#my signature cold weather fragrance

[katebvsh]

Van Cleef and Arpels “Orchid Leather” + Confines Oro Y Muerte (White Ring Remix) are a perfect match imo

[feytouched]

hi ieva!! do you have any tips on how to find a signature scent? :O

hi! i have Many Thoughts on signature fragrances, predictably.

a) i think having one 'signature fragrance' is overrated. searching for it before you have a well-developed nose and a good grip on your preferences will make you overspend and end up with a lot of full bottles of stuff you don't like as much as you initially thought you did.

b) the only way to know what you like is to try a lot of stuff and to do so mindfully. you have to learn how to identify what you're smelling and why you like it or not.

trying a lot of stuff gets expensive fast so i suggest buying sample packs directly from brands or from decant websites.

don't limit yourself to designer/mass-market brands or your perspective on perfumery will be very limited. try niche and indie perfumes and give scent oils a shot. these were what taught me most about scent; there's some really unique stuff going on with indie brands you can't really experience elsewhere.

read books about perfumery to help you understand what you're smelling. mandy aftel's fragrant and essence & alchemy, luca turin's guides, they're a good starting point.

you can also learn a lot from other perfume enthusiasts on fragrantica, on r/Indiemakeupandmore (for indie brand reviews) or on forums like bpal's review forum (and blogs like this one). whenever you try a perfume, look up others' reviews of it.

keep a record of which perfumes you enjoyed and which you didn't, and what notes they have in common. i do this with a spreadsheet, you can used a notebook or whatever you like.

c) don't write off the classic scents. they're classics for a reason. i'd feel safer calling shalimar or chanel no. 5 (gag. if i didn't hate it.) my signature scent than whatever the tiktok perfumistas are gushing about this year. if people haven't gotten bored of it in over a century, there's less of a chance you will too.

d) don't limit yourself to just one signature scent. i think it's foolish to expect a single perfume to be adequate for every occasion.

personally i have two 'signature scents' that are very similar to each other, so they create a cohesive vibe: guerlain's après l'ondée and l'heure bleue. a.l.o. is for daytime/spring/summer, l.h.b. is for eveningwear/fancier occasions/cold weather.

e) once you find the scent that makes you go 'that's it!', don't feel like that's all you're allowed to wear forever.

i wear my 'signatures scents' on special occasions, to create olfactive memories associated with them. on a day to day basis i'm much more likely to be wearing something else from my sample collection.

hope this helps! if you have any more questions about fragrance send them my way. good luck on your quest <3

[museenkuss]

a brief question about seasons and perfumes: how would one wear a coffee scent in the summer? i fear it would be too heavy or out of place for the summer months, but i do reach for it on instinct. thoughts or recommendations? thank you darling!

Hi Love! ☕️🦢

I think in general seasonal perfume choices depend on (1) the summer (2) the perfume (3) you.

Depending on where you're from, temperatures and humidity will vary, so a certain scent might feel too heavy at one place, while being perfectly wearable somewhere else.

Then, the other notes that compose the scent also play an important role in its overal impression. Coffee, to me, is a neutral scent, but I see how it’s often composed in warm-spicy fragrances that feel better suited for cold weather. Lush's Cardamon Coffee for example is said to be purely a winter scent, with its spicy-woody quality. Meanwhile I personally am just starting to wear J'Ose by Eisenberg again, which has mint and lemon in the beginning to add to the lavender/mocha combo later, which to me makes it suitable for the mild weather with its cool wind and warm rain we're experiencing right now (I'm not sure I'd wear it in the height of summer, though. We'll have to wait and see). Then I think something like Black Opium is so well-loved and popular that I don't think it would be that outrageous to wear it in summer? It's the signature scent of quite a lot of people, so I could imagine you might just come across is in summer, too. Popularity sometimes means scents become universal to some degree.

Lastly, it really comes down to what you personally enjoy. In my experience, taste and the desire to smell something change naturally as the seasons change. But what they change into - or whether they change at all - is a purely personal matter. If it's 35C outside and you feel like Cardamon Coffee is the perfect scent for you and it's exactly what you want to wear, do it!

Re: Possible summer alternatives... I’m not an expert on coffee scents — unfortunately I’m still searching for one I absolutely love, so I can’t really recommend any at this point that would be summer specific. What I randomly stumbled upon as I was doing research is Florabellio by Diptyque, which seems to combine coffee with sea breeze notes. I haven't smelled it, but maybe that could be of interest for you? 🌊🌬️☕️ J'Ose and Awake (by Akro) also feature lighter citrus notes in some way, which might lift the scent and make it lighter. And Black Opium has many flankers, maybe one of them feels more warm weather appropriate while keeping that coffee note?

To sum it up: fragrance does depend on the season, but I don’t think you have to worry too much about whether your coffee scent will be appropriate to wear in a few months. When the time (and weather) comes and you find yourself reaching for it still, wear it! Maybe wear it a little lighter, use less sprays if you’re worried about it being out of place or inappropriate. But all in all, I don't think you have to worry :) Enjoy your ️coffee in a bottle! ☕️

[nemo-of-house-hamartia]

Unusual Muse Associations

Thanks so much to @tkwritesdumbassassins for having tagged me in this lovely game! (I absolutely love these games, they truly make one's brain work and set all the cogs in motions! it was truly fun to do).

Because I couldn't choose just one muse among my beloved babies, I decided to go with four of them: Dorothea, Antoine, Mathias and Colette (because I do not talk enough about my Unity Babies. I need to show them more love).

So, without further ado, LET'S GO! (and brace yourself, because this is going to be a long one).

DOROTHEA MARIANNE STARRICK

SEASONING: Star Anise. Warm and sweet with a small kick of spicy that perfectly embodies who she is.

WEATHER: A wintery night, with the snow falling softly around her and the only sound around her is the snow crunching under her shoes or that of a winter serene morning, where the pink and golds of dawn paint those beautiful colours on freshly fallen snow.

COLOR: Burgundy, White and Golden. Those are her signature colours.

SKY: The sky during a wintery night, completely ablaze with the Northern Lights.

MAGICAL POWER: Ice and water manipulation. In a fantasy setting, I can see her being able to manipulate water (and consequently ice) because it’s the element that’s more attuned to her personality: calm and peaceful on the exterior, but dangerous if someone dares to tread where they should not.

HOUSE PLANT: Her vases of Poinsettia, that she keeps in her room.

WEAPON: Bullwhip. That’s her signature weapon.

SUBJECT: Music Class. She is proficient in playing the violin and she is currently being trained to become a opera Singer. If not these, her other subject would most definitely be Literature, with particular emphasis on the Arthurian Legends and Courtly Love in general.

SOCIAL MEDIA: Probably Pinterest or Instagram.

MAKEUP PRODUCT: Lipgloss, because that’s the only product she uses.

CANDY: Godiva Pralines…she just LOVES to indulge in a box of them, when sitting on her couch and reading about Lancelot and Guineviere.

FEAR: Due to her PTSD, she is most triggered around guns and loud noises. She is terrified of guns, which is why, if she is to carry a weapon, she carries a cold weapon.

ICE CUBE SHAPE: She particularly loves the one shaped like a snowflake.

METHOD OF LONG-DISTANCE TRAVEL: Most definitely her family’s carriage. As much as trains are fast, she enjoys the leisurely pace of traveling to her countryside home in her own private carriage. Modern days, she would probably embrace her Swedish side and cycle everywhere!

ART STYLE: Watercolours, and very Art Nouveau. She possesses the same ethereal beauty of the beautiful ladies portrayed by Alfonse Mucha.

MYTHOLOGICAL CREATURE: Not truly a mythological creature, but the closest supernatural creature I can see Dorothea being is a Fallen Angel (like in the wip I did here. I have a whole story for that, where she was a warrior up in the Heavens and basically fought on the wrong side of a war and whatnot. Just so you know that’s not because of the whole “pure candid imagery usually associated with angels).

PIECE OF STATIONERY: A leather bound journal with stars branded into it, heavy weight blank pages and all the time to write down her poems and her wishes.

THREE EMOJIS: 🌟 🌹 🎼

CELESTIAL BODY: Stars. The Stars are her Celestial Body, the one most vividly associated with her due to the moniker her own mentor, Byron Harrison, uses for her: she is The Morning Star.

MATHIAS SÉBASTIAN DE BEAUMONT

SEASONING: Nutmeg: with its distinctive pungent fragrance and a warm slightly sweet taste

WEATHER: The early morning in Summer, when the sky is clear and the air is a cool balm against the skin, before the scorching sun raise from the horizon.

COLOR: Dark Green, Tawny and Cream

SKY: The sky at nightfall, with its darker hues, forbearer of the peace that the evening brings.

MAGICAL POWER: Flight. He would love to be able to fly as free as a bird up in the sky, without any limits, without any fear, touching the clouds and catching the stars that reminds him so much of the woman he loves.

HOUSE PLANT: Orchids. He revels in their beauty and always softly speak to the flowers, so that they would grow beautiful.

WEAPON: His Flintlock. He is a much better long-distance fighter than hand-to-hand, so he prefers the pistols and the rifles, compared to the swords and the hidden blades.

SUBJECT: Literature and History class. The man has the romantic soul of a poet (if they didn’t belong to different realities, he and Gabriel would be besties).

SOCIAL MEDIA: Most likely he would be on Quora, answering questions about Literature and History.

MAKEUP PRODUCT: Doesn’t truly wear any, but he has always happily complied whenever Colette needed a “blank canvas” in order to train her make-up skills.

CANDY: He is not big on candies, but he happens to love Ferrero Rocher. They are SO GOOD.

FEAR: Fire. Due to what happened to him in the past, he is absolutely terrorized by fire. Even in wintertime, he’d rather sleep under a whole pile of heavy blankets than have the fire going in the fireplace.

ICE CUBE SHAPE: A simple cube would suffice for him.

METHOD OF LONG-DISTANCE TRAVEL: Horse. He and his twin sister Antoine have been around their family’s horses ever since they were children, and he very much prefers to gallop away rather than travel by carriage.

ART STYLE: Mathias’ art style would definitely be inspired by the Impressionist movement, with particular reference to Monét’s works, especially his Water Lilies paintings.

MYTHOLOGICAL CREATURE: Gargoyle. He is a guy who has fundamentally a good heart and that strives to protect those who have a good soul.

PIECE OF STATIONERY: Mathias loves to collect correspondence sets, with coordinated envelopes and letters. He also has an impressive collection of sets of sealing wax stamps.

THREE EMOJIS: 💔 🪶 📖

CELESTIAL BODY: Neptune is most definitely the Celestial Body associated with him.

ANTOINE FRANÇOISE DE BEAUMONT

SEASONING: Black Pepper. With its strong woody and spicy aroma, it’s the perfect spice for Antoine: strong and unforgiving, just like her.

WEATHER: A Fiery stormy evening, with pouring rain and thundering clouds, with flashes that illuminates the whole sky and thunders that reverberates through her whole body.

COLOR: Olive green, black, red, and tawny

SKY: She loves it when a mid-afternoon sky is completely covered in dark, heavy clouds, that are carrying their promise of a fiery thunderstorm. She loves to be under the pouring water.

MAGICAL POWER: Manipulation of Magnetic fields. She would be able to create powerful shields to protect the one she loves the most, keeping at bay anything that might cause them harm.

HOUSE PLANT: She had a ficus once, gift of Mathias. It’s now long dried up.

WEAPON: Her small sword. She is an EXCELLENT sword master, and she is lethal with a sword in her hands.

SUBJECT: Military Strategy and tactics. Antoine is one hell of tactician and she has the spirit of a warrior. She has a particular interest in Medieval Warfare tactics. She also enjoys to attend Cooking Classes with Colette, BUT SHE WOULD NEVER ADMIT IT UNDER TORTURE, and if asked, she would say that she is attending them to make her baby sister happy (yeah, Antoine is my emotionally constipated poor meow meow of an oc).

SOCIAL MEDIA: She doesn’t like to be on any social media. If she had to choose one, it would be Quora, just to mess with Mathias and ask him impossible questions to be answered.

MAKEUP PRODUCT: She doesn’t wear any make-up, so she doesn’t have a favorite.

CANDY: 90% Dark Chocolate with chili. Dark and fiery just like her soul.

FEAR: To not be able to protect her brother Mathias and her baby sister Colette. The idea that both of them could, in any way, being hurt by something or someone makes her go in an absolute frenzy. They are the only family she has left, and she is terrified of losing them.

ICE CUBE SHAPE: No ice. She doesn’t like watered down drinks.

METHOD OF LONG-DISTANCE TRAVEL: Horse. That’s the only way for her to travel long distances. A carriage is too slow, and by foot is something she would never consider. So, the only way for her to travel is by her trusted horse.

ART STYLE: The style that best represents Antoine is the Baroque, with its rich, dramatic, exaggerated motions and clear and easily interpretable details because, in a way, they reminded her of Versailles and her childhood home.

MYTHOLOGICAL CREATURE: if she were to be a Mythological creature, she would be a fiery Dragon: imposing, fearsome, absolutely terrifying and extremely protective of what she considers hers, be it an object or a person. She would be an excellent guardian.

PIECE OF STATIONERY: A fancy fountain pen with her initials engraved to it. She usually is not one that goes for fancy objects, but pens are her weakness (especially the one that can become small blades. One can never have too many weapons).

THREE EMOJIS: ⚜️ 🗡 🐺

CELESTIAL BODY: Jupiter, the Planet of Storms and king of the whole Solar System.

COLETTE HÉLÈNE DE BEAUMONT

SEASONING: Cinnamon. Its warmth and slight spiciness truly embodies her.

WEATHER: The breezy, warm early summer evenings spent at the seaside, with the balmy winds caressing the skin.

COLOR: Deep Blue, Crimson Red and Pale Yellow.

SKY: The Beautiful serene sky of midmorning, with the sun shining bright and not a cloud in sight.

MAGICAL POWER: Healing. With her knowledge of the herbs and her natural disposition of taking care of the people around her, Colette would most definitely possess the power of healing any type of injury or malaise with the single touch of her hands.

HOUSE PLANT: Pots upon Pots of Fairy Primroses, because they remind her of her best friend Félicité.

WEAPON: A hidden stilettos she always carries with herself, concealed. It was a gift from her sister Antoine, so that she could always have something to defend herself with.

SUBJECT: Cooking Classes, because she adores cooking and she takes her works at Café Théâtre seriously. Also, Dance and Singing Classes, because she adores dancing, and she has been doing so ever since she was a young child, thanks to Mathias’s teachings. She also has a pleasant smoky voice when singing.

SOCIAL MEDIA: Youtube and Instagram.

MAKEUP PRODUCT: Her signature red lipstick and her eyeliner, that helps bring out her lovely cat-like eyes.

CANDY: Colette’s favourite candies are, in truth, the one called Calissons D’Aix, a type of sweet pastry typical of Provence. They are the one her maternal grandmother prepared for her and her siblings whenever they went in Provence, and they hold a special place in her heart. Plus, they are delicious and she could eat boxes upon boxes of them.

FEAR: Colette doesn’t have many fears, but one is fear of complete darkness. She is absolutely terrified to be alone in complete darkness, without even the faint glint of a candle to illuminate her surrounding. This fear was caused by something that happened to her when she was just a child of 13 years of age.

ICE CUBE SHAPE: She loves those heart-shaped ice cube in her drinks.

METHOD OF LONG-DISTANCE TRAVEL: Walking. Sure, it takes so much longer to arrive to her destination, but she hates the idea of being closed in a carriage with someone she doesn’t know or trust, and she doesn’t like riding horses (the only exception would be if she was on the same horse with her eldest brother or sister.)

ART STYLE: Noe-Classical oil paintings are most definitely her artstyle. She looks just like one of those lovely shepherdess out of those bucolic paintings.

MYTHOLOGICAL CREATURE: A Sphynx. Colette is an enigmatic creature, mysterious despite her solar personality, not easy to understand at first sight unless she is the one allowing you to grasp what she wants. It all adds to her natural charm and cryptic smile.

PIECE OF STATIONERY: She loves the inkpot and the quill that Arno has given her, in order for them to keep in contact and write to each other. She keeps the quill in perfect condition, hardly using it, instead borrowing her sister’s, so to not consume that sweet gift she got from the man she loves.

THREE EMOJIS: 🌻 🍝 💃🏽

CELESTIAL BODY: Colette’s celestial body would most definitely be the planet Venus.

--Nemo

So, here you have it!!

Now, lemme tag all my dear friends in this (I apologize if I forget someone. My brain is made of cheese with so many holes, it's made mostly of air).

@giuliettaluce @susann-noir @thatcrazycrowgirl @siofra3448 @straight-into-the-animus @mazikomo @fortunas-fool @miss--river @xxthefatherofunderstandingxx @benedorian @rumibelle @rumor-imbris @ellztrash @anemoii-a @pxiedustnblades @sassenach-on-the-rocks @hidden-blades-and-tomahawks @scuderia-auditore-ghibli and whoever has an oc/muse/characters they love and want to play this game! everyone is welcome!

[rapunzelita]

favorite perfumes ?

Tysm for the lovely ask ❣ I love perfumes so much! I've always been enamored by the idea of having a signature scent! Hence, my perfume quiz. But, my favorite scents tend to change as often as the weather... still, here are a few that I adore categorized into summer, winter, fall, and spring scents (just coz I thought that would be cute!) <3

Summer

scents that evoke summer, salt air, warm sand, cool waves lapping at your feet....

🌊 Byredo - Sundazed

🌊Versace Pour Femme Dylan Turquoise

🌊Bubble Bath Maison Martin Margiela

Autumn

Scents that evoke coffee-shops, cinnamon and pumpkin spice, crunchy leaves, maple lattes and everything autumn...

🍁 Burberry Her

🍁 Prada Candy

🍁 Vanilla Pumpkin - The Body Shop (technically not a perfume, per say, but I'm in love with this scent & it's now a tradition for me to buy this collection every Autumn - I especially love the shower gel !)

Winter

Scents that evoke Winter, cozy sweaters, a gust of cold wind, and warming yourself by the fireplace with a cup of hot cocoa...

❄️ Delina Parfums de Marly

❄️ Alibi Oscar de la Renta

❄️ Poison Girl Dior

Spring

Due to tumblr's image limit, I have to create a new post for the Spring scents - but that's okay, because tbh, Spring is one of my fave seasons and I think I'll take this is an opportunity to create a special post for it! ^^ So keep an eye out for that babes! 👀🦋🧿

Disclaimer: this is by no means a comprehensive list of my fave fragrances, I have so many and if you are curious like me, as to what sort of fragrance would best suit you, or which fragrance is the signature scent of your soul, then please do take my quiz <3 xo and follow me for more like this ^^

Love,

Shriya

[exosmutfactory]

Double Trouble (21+): MELODIC MISCHIEF

{ Double Trouble: Double STUFFED Snacks Edition }

✯♛❀Mature Drabbles❀♛✯ Come get a mouthful 🔞

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7✓ | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 |

Full story masterlist

networks — @superm-net @/bbh-net @/exowritersnet

pairing — Baek & You

word count — 3.4k

genre — supernatural, soulmate!au, genie! Baek

category — fluff, slow burn, mutual pining, Master! Baek

A request? Yes ^-^

Dedicated to: 🍑 Silver, Peach, 7 anon 🍑

[ This chapter contains: pure smut and romance. Smut details under the cut 🌹 ]

A/N: I feel really rusty, I hope this is okay 🌻 I was sick Tuesday and am getting a vaccine booster Friday (yesterday) so I only had time and energy to do this on Thursday this week ✨

⏰✴ Double Trouble Tag List: ☀⏰

@to-all-the-stories-i-love @jennxx3 @soonvivi @loey0491 @marovekian1 @pearliejoy @insta1010 @bellamendoza @weirdoome @geniusloey @pvtbbh @baekyeonoreo @you-n-me-e-e @bigbobohu @bubutaeyongie @maijinki

A/N: I highly encourage everyone (and who wishes to be) on my tumblr tag list to check out this new google form so I know more specifically what you would like to read from me. Story and smut wise! 💗

The smut contains: body worship, breeding kink, toys, public

✴-☀-✴-☀-✴-☀-✴-☀-✴-☀

It’s been a while since you’ve spent an evening like this; riding the last subway train home with Baek by your side. Your love; your soulmate.

You can’t help but smile while looking out at the world beyond the windows, watching the powerline icicles and snow-covered treetops pass by in a blur. The fogged up glass reminds you of the wintry air outside, making you shiver, rubbing your hands over your goosebumps covered skin.

Something soft lands on your shoulders. You instinctively glance over at the man seated next to you, noticing that his black vest is gone.

“Cold?” Baek raises a brow, lightly biting his lip to fight back a smile. He looks way too endearing in his green graphic t-shirt, black pants, with his delicately pierced ear, and that thin red slash on his cheek with the below freezing weather roaring just beyond the glass panels.

You grip onto the thick fabric resting on your shoulders, warm from his radiating heat and sun-kissed skin. His signature fragrance quirks another smile on your lips, warmer than before. Leaning closer to him, you reach over to fondly swipe your thumb under the small scratch, over the smiling apple of his cheek. “Not anymore.”

Baek’s sparkling brown eyes peer sweetly into yours, prompting you to lean in to press your lips to his, only to flinch, your breath hitching in your throat.

He immediately takes notice when you freeze. He straightens up, looking you over frantically. “Baby? Are you…” he trails off when his eyes shoot down to your shaking thighs. Understanding dawns on his features. His eyes flash green when they meet yours again, matching the mischievous smirk on his face. “You didn’t.”

“Y-your idea,” you grit out, gripping his thigh the longer the vibrations buzz between your legs. You were so busy gazing into his eyes and the winter wonderland around you that you forgot about his little wish. His small request. The very thing that has you in this predicament.

You never imagined that a literal genie would ask you to use a vibrator in public of all things. He had sounded so persuasive over the phone the other night, murmuring his promises and requests for when you’d come back home from your business trip. The plans he has for you… Who are you to deny him?

The thought of someone catching you all day had turned you on beyond belief - not that you’d ever tell him that though. Especially with him looking so cute earlier at the train station, with his slightly messy black hair, his brown eyes shining with love and imploring you wordlessly. His endearing habit of tapping his fingers on your thigh while you both waited for the train nearly had you begging him to take you right then and there for the whole world to see. You would have if it wasn’t for that one simple rule; only three wishes can be given to you.

Baek’s smirk morphs into a full-blown grin. The way his dark brown eyes trail over your body heats up your chilled skin. “Come here,” he murmurs lowly, licking his lips.

Your cheeks warm up under his hungry stare, thankful for the empty train car. The look in his eyes tells of so many ways he plans to rock your world tonight. You move to straddle him with a gulp, gasping against his parted lips when he sets his hands on your hips. He tugs your hips forward, making you grind on him. The friction makes you both moan in unison.

“Have you had it this whole time?” he asks breathily, his slender fingers slipping into your back pocket to pull out the remote you had forgotten all about.

“M-maybe.” Your hips buck against his when he lowers the intensity setting, causing a small, shimmering pressure between your legs. Just enough to keep you on edge. You whine, grinding harder against him, the sensation making your thighs quiver.

Baek cups your cheek before pulling you in for a kiss, lifting his hips with each of your movements. The pressure of the vibrator sandwiched between his half-hard cock and your clit has you twitching uncontrollably above him.

“Good,” he whispers, slipping his hand under the waistband of your jeans. He makes a beeline straight for your panties, brushing past your public bone to grab hold of the small vibrator. He twirls it in a way that makes you throw your head back, your toes curling while he sucks eagerly on the base of your neck. You’re not sure if you’re just seeing stars from the pleasure, or if little neon green particles are floating around him in the air.

“Turn around, baby,” he murmurs against your collarbone, giving your neck one last smooch.

You gulp as he pulls down the zipper of your jeans, carefully standing up to face away from him. Baek tugs your pants down to your ankles before pulling you back onto his lap, your back pressed to his chest.

You struggle to find a comfortable position for a few minutes, and eventually end up with your foot propped up on the seat next to him. You’re pretty sure you’ve lost a winter boot and your pants are a tangled mess around your right ankle, but all other thoughts vanish when his hand brushes over your bare core again.

Baek grips the vibrator, pulling your panties aside with his free hand. “You’re so wet,” he murmurs in a mixture of arousal and amusement, running his fingers through your folds.

“Baek, please,” you pant, lifting your hips in search of his touch.

“Hmm?” The tip of his nose brushes over the back of your neck, his warm minty breath fanning over your nape. You feel like you’ve been set on fire while in his arms like this.

“Master, please,” you breathe, letting his secret name slip from your lips. Beckoning him to give you what you want. By the way he tightens his grip on the vibrator and his cock twitches under you, you know you've hit the jackpot.

“What do you want, baby?” he still dares to ask, slipping the tips of his fingers into your clenching core. He pulls and pushes them inside and out of you at his own leisure, producing the filthiest of sounds in the quiet air.

“Please,” you whimper, wrapping your hand around his wrist, your heart and pussy racing in excitement at the feeling of his muscles contracting with every push and pull out of you. “I want you.”

“Where do you want me, baby?” His voice is low in your ear, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up in the most pleasant of ways. He pulls his fingertips out of you, tracing a slow trail up your thigh, over your hip, stomach, and under your sweater to the curve of your breast. He squeezes it firmly, twisting your nipple between his wet fingers. “Hmm?” he muses over your pleasured cry, pinching your nipple softly. “Where do you want me?”

You bite down on your lip, feeling your cheeks heat up again. He wants you to say it - there’s no way you can say it.

Baek traces the edge of your jaw with the tip of his tongue, sucking on a particularly sensitive spot. His wicked tongue and pursed lips against your skin there remind you too much of how his mouth feels between your legs. Suddenly, you’re ready to say anything just to get him to move.

“Fuck me, Baek,” you breathe between choked gasps, mewling when his fingers twist your neglected nipple as well. “Make me come.”

“You want it right here?” His lips trace tantalizingly over the shell of your ear. “For all the world to see? What if someone boards the train, baby?”

Quivering in his lap, you grip onto his thigh for support, moaning in a high pitch when he turns up the intensity of the vibrator, swirling circles around your clit.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he chuckles in your ear, sliding his middle finger inside of you. “Creaming your Master’s lap?”

“Y-ye-” you barely gasp out, your eyes fluttering shut when he quickly slips his ring finger in too.

“What a filthy little thing you are,” he breathes, heavily affected while you squirm in his lap. “Letting me finger you out in the open like this. What if there are cameras, hmm?”

Your heart and hips stutter at the thought, your grip on his thigh tightening by the minute. Every word that drips from his pink lips has waves of arousal drenching your inner thighs and his fingers. “More,” you pant, lifting your hips in hopes of feeling his digits deeper inside of you. “Master, please.”

“Hmm?” he slows down despite your protests, making you curse him under your breath to no end. He’s going to be the end of you; you’re sure he will.

“More,” you repeat firmly, immensely aroused and tired of his games. “I wish for more. Give me more. Turn up the vibrator, rub my clit, and make me come on your fingers.”

Now you’ve got his attention. Baek slows down to a stop entirely, green dust particles dancing around the tips of his drenched fingertips. He plants a wet, searing kiss onto your shoulder, his voice holding a low, powerful echo. “Your wish is my command.”

The vibrator cranks up to the maximum setting, making you scream. Baek claps his hand over your mouth before you get too loud, driving his fingers in and out of you. It leaves you confused for a moment. If his hand is covering your mouth and his fingers are pounding into your pussy, who is drawing circles over your clit with the vibrator?

You glance down at the device twirling between your legs, covered in green dust particles that sway to and fro with the repetitive motion. You’re captivated by the magical sight until Baek palms your breast in his hand again, tweaking your nipple until it hardens under his ministrations.

“Good girl,” he breathes over your moans, rubbing his fingertips right into your gspot. “Cream my fingers and I’ll let you come on my cock.”

Your head falls back onto his shoulder with a thud at his words. His free hand caresses your hips and waist while a third slender digit slips into your core, stretching you out. Your hips buck under all the sensations, grinding you roughly against his hard cock still tucked away in his pants.

You’re not sure what does it; his low grunt, relentless fingers, or wandering hand, but one moment you’re quivering over that desired edge, and in the next, the vibrator lands on a sensitive spot and sends stars bursting behind your eyelids.

“Good girl,” Baek murmurs while you shake, kissing behind your ear. “That’s it. Drench my fingers then drench my cock.” His fingers continue to pummel your core, making you twitch and arch your back. You sag back against his chest when the mile long high wears off, trying to catch your breath.

“Are you okay, baby?” He pressed more kisses to the back of your ear, interlocking his fingers together over your stomach and holding you close. “Did that feel good?”

You close your eyes in a mix of adoration and bubbling arousal. “You will be the death of me, I swear.”

Baek chuckles, his rumbling chest making you smile. “We can stop now if you want,” he murmurs, as if he isn’t rock hard. “We’re almost home-”

You tsk with a shake of your head, looking over your shoulder at him. “Don’t you have something else for me?” you purse your lips, palming him, tucking the tips of your fingers under his waistband. “Remember our call?” you whisper against his kiss-swollen lips, managing to maneuver yourself around to straddle his lap again, unzipping his pants and tugging on the hem of his boxers. “How you promised to take me for everyone to see?”

“I-” he grunts, closing his eyes and clenching his jaw when your fingers swirl over his leaking tip, stroking his precum over his cock. “T-that was in the heat of the moment, baby. We’re almost-”

“Don’t you want to?” you pause your ministrations, pleading with your eyes at him. Baek opens his eyes, looking at you from your wide eyes, exposed chest, and the waterfall you can only guess he can see when his eyes drift below. You have to hide your little grin when he twitches in your hand.

Before he can reply, an announcement rings out overhead, and the train doors open. You and Baek share a wide-eyed look before you’re jumping into action. You only have time to grab your missing boot, pull your pants up to your thighs, and stash the vibrator in Baek’s pocket before a man steps onto the cabin of the train. You’re thankful that you wore a long sweater today, nervously smoothing the fabric over your thighs while smiling warily at the unsuspecting stranger, still perched on Baek’s lap.

The tall man settles down on the same side of the cabin, taking a seat at the very end of the row. A twitch against your clit makes you jolt, accidentally grinding your ass on Baek. His cock rests between your folds, pressing on your clit and clenching hole.

You risk a glance back at him, meeting his messy black hair and warning glare. It only makes you grin toothily in response. Carefully watching the stranger slumping tiredly in his seat, you brace your hands on Baek's knees, gliding your pussy over his cock. His dick perks up even more under your movements, his leaking precum causing a wet sound to fill the air around you.

“Baby.” His grip tightens on your hip in warning.

“Please, Master,” you moan only for him to hear, rolling your hips fluidly over his lap. “I wish you’d stuff me with your cock. Fill me up right here.”

“Fuck.” Baek groans, green particles floating up in the space around you. He urges you to lift your hips and presses his cock to your entrance, slowly pulling you down on him. Your mouth falls open, lips trembling from the stretch. His thick cock has trouble fitting in your sensitive walls after your orgasm.

“Come on, baby,” he huffs impatiently, pain and arousal clear in his hushed voice. “You need to ease up if you want my cock in you.”

“E-easy for you to say,” you whisper right back, gasping loudly when he smacks his cock against your clit, rubbing it impatiently. It makes you widen your legs as far as your jeans will allow, letting him slip inside your core with ease. You whimper when he’s ball deep inside of you, gripping his knees for dear life. It’s still a tight fit, something Baek seems to appreciate.

He swears under his breath, helping you move over him. You can feel his gaze transfixed on how your pussy swallows his cock over and over again.

Suddenly, a water tower in the distance catches your eye. You curse, slamming yourself down onto him. “You-” you struggle to get out between suppressed moans, “have to come, Baek.” You pant, circling your hips over him when his cock is tucked fully inside of you. “We’re almost there.”

“I - told you earlier,” he breathes heavily between gritted teeth, meeting you halfway with hurried thrusts. The last of his inhibitions are slipping away. Green dust particles are floating all over the place the more you feel him twitch inside of you. “I can’t - come on demand, baby.”

Oh, wanna bet? you smile merrily, leaning forward to brace yourself against the floor-to-ceiling pole in front of you. “Come inside of me, Baek.” You arch your back to meet his shallow thrusts, steadying yourself the more his thighs shake under you. “I wish you would. I want it. Want to drip with you for days.”

“Baby…” Baek whispers, halting his movements. You wordlessly lean back into his arms when his hesitant hands reach out for you.

The first time you had sex with him, he had made it clear what would happen if he ever came inside of you. Condoms don’t work. Birth control doesn’t either. Thankfully he’s an immortal being with the stamina of a champion who can make love to you for hours on end and still manage to pull out every time.

Genies are a rare species, there are less of them in the world than the fairies hiding away in the enchanted forest. They live for eternity, but there is only one way to expand their population. If they come inside of someone, no matter if they are supernatural or human, they will impregnate them and will give them triplets.

That’s the very reason why Baek always makes you come first. You’ve only felt him twitch once or twice within your walls before he pulls out of you. He doesn’t even risk getting it on your skin in fear that it will land on its target anyway.

The memory makes you smile, how sincere his normally mischievous self was in explaining everything to you. How his melodic voice caressed your ears. As much as you appreciate his concern, it only makes you yearn for him even more. And after three years since you found his lamp in the farthest corner of the library’s storage room, like a mother to a flame, you’re pretty sure he knows what’s up. You’ve made yourself clear. You know what you said, and you meant every word of it.

Baek tangles his fingers with yours, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. “It’s going to be a lot…” he pauses, his cheeks tinted pink when you look back at him. “And weird as hell.”

“I wish to spend the rest of my life with you.” You turn to rest your cheek against his, squeezing his hand warmly. “No matter how weird it gets.”

Baek’s eyes flash green, with red sparkles in the mix. His cock seems to grow warmer inside of you before he slowly starts rolling his hips up into yours again. You wrap your arm around his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair. His warm breaths wash over your cheek and his grip tightens on your waist when his hips falter. “Are you sure-”

You clamp your walls around him, making his hips stutter. You find the little yelp that he tries to muffle in your shoulder extremely endearing until you feel a powerful vibration erupt in your core. Like a power drill preparing to drill through a wall. Baek holds you down firmly before you accidentally launch yourself off his lap and onto the floor.

The sensation intensifies with every twitch of his cock, making your walls quiver around him. Baek’s grip loosens after a few moments, his head thudding back against the foggy windows with a low groan. Your shaky fingers latch onto his bicep, needing something to steady yourself as his hot, copious cum meets your cervix. The feeling pulls a cry from your lips, your thighs quaking as you come around him.

Baek wraps his arms around your waist to steady you. He breathes heavily on your back as the feeling fades away, planting a kiss over your spine.

“That…” you start breathlessly, your thighs still trembling, your heart laced with confusion. “That was…” You relax back against him, at a loss for words, trying to wrap your mind around it all. Your wide eyes suddenly snap to his, your heart racing in panic. “Your eyes...” you breathe, cupping his cheeks. “Your eyes were red, Baek, what-”

He kisses the back of your hand, holding it to his cheek. “It’s okay,” he murmurs warmly.

You look into his soft brown eyes, noticing the sprinkles of red among the cluster of green particles in the air. “Baek…” You frown, trying to remember what happened during the past forty-five minutes…

He didn’t. He didn’t just-

“Baek,” you clutch onto the front of his shirt, your heart racing in worry, “you didn’t-”

He slowly nods his head, blinking owlishly. As if he didn’t just break a very important rule!

“You granted me four wishes…” the realization dawns on you in waves - why is he smiling? This is serious!

“It’s okay,” he whispers, resting his forehead on yours. He chuckles at the doubtful expression on your face, tucking your hair behind your ear with a raised brow. “You’re my soulmate, hmm?” he smiles, resting his hand on your tummy. “You’re mine, and I’m forever yours.”

✴-☀-✴-☀-✴-☀-✴-☀-✴-☀

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7✓ | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 |

A/N: Alright this became pure filth and I am living with it 😳🔥 Congratulations, you’re now having triplets. BYE 💨

[forthegothicheroine]

Have you swapped out your summer perfumes for fall ones yet? If so, what did you put away and what did you take out?

I'm wearing some very autumnal scents right now! As always, you can wear any perfume at any time of the year; I certainly wear my favorites all year round. Fall and winter, in my opinion, are good times for gourmands; in fact, half of these are BPAL scents because I love their vanilla so much!

Top 5 Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab Autumn Perfumes:

Snake Oil: If I could only wear a single signature scent, it would be this one; in fact, getting this sample was one of the first perfumes that ever really hooked me! It’s a year-round favorite, but often feels a bit cloying in hot weather, so it’s nice to wear it when it’s getting cool. This is a heavy vanilla and incense scent which I find incredibly sexy, like I’m a swing-dancing succubus. Others have said it smells medicinal on them, so you may want to try a sample first.

Pumpkin Spice Snake Oil: I’m wearing this Halloween variation right now! With pumpkin and cream in the mix, the Snake Oil blend becomes less sexy and more cozy to me. Think of wearing a chunky sweater while drinking tea with lots of cinnamon and half-and-half! Go easy when applying this one as the pumpkin can be heavy, but applied delicately it’s a very comfy scent to have on.

Tombeur: This is BPAL’s “sexy vampire” perfume and hell yes that’s what it smells like! There’s a little bit of Snake Oil here, but much darker than usual; the vanilla is less sweet, the spices are more elegant, and overall it feels a lot more Haute Goth. BPAL has a whole range devoted to different types of vampire, but when one was supposed to be the evil seducer archetype...that was going to have to be mine.

Lucy's Kiss: More vampires! I don’t find this one wanton or deadly; coquettish, perhaps. It smells like buttery roses with sugary spices, flirty but unexpected and quirky. I like to think the kind and bubbly Lucy Westenra had this kind of sweetness to her- and when she was turned into a vampire, that sweetness became a masque with which to lure and kill.

Alice: I wore this one at my October wedding, so I have a sentimental fondness for it! It’s also just really really good. Spicy carnations and soothing milk and honey combine to form a fragrance that smells almost fruity, but much more offbeat and frilly than that implies. It’s appropriate all year round, but as I said, for me it’s always good in October!

Top 5 Non-Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab Autumn Perfumes:

The Bell Witch by Sixteen92: This is actually my favorite autumn fragrance, playing as it does on my love of apple cider! Earth and moss and smoke and pumpkins perform autumn-themed backup, but the cider is what makes this smell really delicious. It’s not quite as sinister as the story of the Bell Witch, but it would be quite appropriate for a more comic witch like the Sanderson Sisters or the Owens Women.

Etrog by Ayala Moriel: I listed this in my summer citrus post, but it’s obviously intended for the autumn holiday of Sukkot, where we use this fruit as part of our harvest rituals. If you’ve never smelled an etrog- in English, a citron- it’s like a lemon but sweeter, making this a nice bright wake-up scent. It’s just as refreshing in chilly or warm weather!

Fille en Aiguilles by Serge Lutens: This is really more of a winter scent, but I’ve been wearing it lately to evoke that dark forest vibe. I heard about this perfume when someone said it smelled like the show Twin Peaks, and it absolutely does! It’s all pine trees and dark spices, mysterious and cold. There’s something in the pines, and they smell amazing.

Madchenland by Poesie: An actually Twin Peaks-themed scent! Named after Madchen Amick who played Shelley Johnson on the show, it evokes her job as a diner waitress by smelling like apple pie, cakes and caramel. Poesie seems to do gourmands best, and this scent comes back in the fall for a reason. I just got a full bottle!

Big Toddy Goth Girl by Hexennacht: Yes, I got this for the name, but it’s good! I’m not normally a huge fan of clove, but the way the booze and cinnamon melds with clove cigarettes is warming and smoky and dark. Very appealing stuff. Wear it for Elvira!

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Victor’s R&S - Paradise on Earth (Eng Translation)

🍒This R&S (“世间桃源”) will not be released in EN or any server as it’s one of the cancelled R&S which came with the Dream Heart Lake gacha event!🍒

This is a full translation, so it’s highly recommended that you follow along with the narrator (i.e. our beloved Mr Mills) :> 

Summary: This is Victor’s paradise on earth. It has delicacies, good wine, and stories. 

Cancelled Victor R&S:

> flashback 

> six out of seventeen 

> so-called disparity

[ Chapter 1 ]

People of my generation believe in fate.

Whether I was led into the restaurant by the fragrance of wine while passing by along the street, or meeting the manager of Souvenir and becoming a part of it - these were likely destined to happen. 

After retiring, I would frequently carry a set of keys with me and head out for a stroll. Sometimes, I’d look at what’s new in the shopping mall, and sometimes I’d do so purely because the weather was good - perhaps I was someone who just couldn’t remain idle. 

It was also because of this reason that I walked into Souvenir that day. At first, I was enticed by the fragrance of wine; afterwards, it was because of my surprise towards the manager’s capriciousness.

Finally, it was because of the culmination of years of experience that I could remain here.

At this age, I never expected to meet a friend with such an interesting personality that gelled with mine despite our age differences. 

I still remember when I walked in back then, following the fragrance of wine. I had even questioned if the restaurant was open to begin with. The entire restaurant was empty, and a man stood in the half-exposed kitchen, buried in work, looking as though he had just got a footing in life. Apart from the sound of wine being poured, the only things that could be heard in the empty area were my own footsteps. There were even echoes resounding because of the space.

Usually, I would turn around and leave if the staff didn’t attend to me, preventing me from embarrassing myself. However, on that day, such a thought didn’t cross my mind: Since I had already followed the scent of wine, I wouldn’t be satisfied until I enquired about it.

Hence, even to this day, I can still remember the first words I said to the manager.

-

[ Chapter 2 ]

Back then, I asked him this:

“Mister, how much is the wine?”

His answer naturally left a deep impression on me:

“An exorbitant price.”

He didn’t even lift his head when he said this, and his act of sealing the bottle didn't cease. If it were somebody else, they could have gotten angry in response to his arrogant attitude - it’s human nature.

However, I found this young man very interesting. If I were to put it in the popular lingo, I’d say that I saw the aura of an “artisan” in him. As such, I smiled and continued with another question: 

“In that case, what is the asking price for this exorbitance?”

Hearing this, the man finally lifted up his head from his work. 

He looked even younger than I imagined. His features were defined and regular. His expressionless face looked majestic and proud.

As compared to a restaurant, he’s more suited for politics or in the business world - Such an impression was evoked the moment one laid eyes on him, especially since he was wearing a well-fitted suit underneath his apron that day.

“That will depend...” after a short pause, the young manager changed his term of address, “it will depend on your worth.”

[Note] This part doesn’t translate well to English, but Victor basically  starts off by addressing Mr Mills as “你” (which is used when talking to peers/someone younger), then changes it to “您” (used when talking to an elder/someone you respected). Both mean “you”, but they are of different formality :>

Even though he used a more respectful term of address, his face still lacked the signature smile frequently seen on service staff. The contrast of the young man piqued my interest, and a certain gut feeling surfaced - getting to know him wouldn’t be a bad thing.

And because of this gut feeling, I made a decision I never, ever regretted. 

-

[ Chapter 3 ]

After working here for half a year, I still couldn’t make sense of the way this business was run. The opening hours depended on the boss’ mood. The “daily menu” depended on the ingredients that day, and the contents on the bill were plucked from the air.

When customers walk in, there was a 50% chance that they would get chased out, a 30% chance that the bill would leave them unpleased, and out of the remaining 20%, only 10% would become returning guests - and this percentage wasn’t guaranteed either.  

I was uncertain if it was a coincidence or an inevitability, but out of the recurring customers, most of them were celebrities from various industries. Some looked familiar, especially that well-received celebrity who appeared frequently on television. Some of them I didn’t recognise.

What differed from my imagination was that the manager didn’t concern himself with celebrities like in other businesses. In contrast, he disliked those who came simply because they were celebrities... hmm, how should I put it? Those kinds of people who came here to take pictures more than to partake in delicacies. Because of this, he specially imposed a “no photography equipment allowed” rule. 

I talked to the boss about this before. 

“The ladies just wanted to record beautiful things in life - it shouldn’t count as breaking the rules, right?”

At that time, this was what the manager said while he was busy in the kitchen:

“They can go elsewhere to record the ‘beautiful things in life’. Souvenir doesn’t need their meagre contributions.”

When he spoke, the manager didn’t have a look of unhappiness or disdain. What I heard was him purely stating a truth, but I knew that in his heart, he didn’t like those customers. If such customers came to the door, he would rather close his restaurant. 

“But, Manager, you also take pictures sometimes.”

Exactly because I had a sufficient understanding of the manager, I knew clearly that he wouldn’t lose his temper. This was why I’d take a risk sometimes - either challenging his authority as the manager, or deliberately putting him on the spot in the capacity of an elder. I just couldn’t help wanting to know what went through the mind of this young man, who was riddled with contradictions.

For someone my age, it was largely me being overly curious.

“...I take photos for the purposes of creating new dishes and adjusting the taste. As customers, all they need to do is eat.” The manager had always been taciturn, but his mind moved incredibly quickly. This is one point of him that I admired a lot. 

Our interactions were mostly intended for exploring different approaches, so there were always circumstances where we would dispute or disagree.

“Honestly speaking, I also think the dishes are presented very well, so I can understand their feelings.” Most of the dishes in Souvenir have a certain optimal period when they are best tasting - that’s what the manager was most upset about. “If they eat immediately after taking photos, it shouldn't affect the tasting experience, right?”

“Real customers... cough.” As though he thought about something funny, the manager released a dry cough to conceal his sudden laughter. “Will feel regret after finishing their food, because they realise that they haven’t taken a picture. I hope Souvenir can leave behind such happy regret.”

Now that I think about it, it’s probably because we always uphold the same standard for delicacies, that the manager employed me.

After all, whether before or after I came, I never saw hiring notices pasted in the restaurant.

-

[ Chapter 4 ]

After working here for two years, I still couldn’t make sense of the way this business was run. However, the good thing was that I had become completely used to it.

Whether it was the way the manager and I interacted, or the circumstances of work - even though I was a service staff, the scope of my work was mostly that of an assistant. After all, the restaurant had very little business.

It was probably because the boss did whatever he wanted. No matter how good his cooking was, the business of the restaurant remained subpar, and it was a good thing he wasn’t concerned about the accounts. Whenever I gave him quarterly reports of the deficit accounts, he always looked well aware of the situation. 

He would occasionally nod his head as a sign of acknowledgement. Sometimes, he would divert the topic to a new dish, and he would sometimes talk about an even more complex issue. For example, the definition of “winning and losing”, and what it meant to have an objective.

Whenever we talk about these matters, he would never put himself on a pedestal as a manager. No, it’s more like, when there are no customers around, he is never like a boss - or a big chef who is passionate about delicacies, or a modest member from the younger generation.

“This is what I think about the matter. I would like to hear your opinion.” When he said this, he furrowed his brows slightly out of habit, his gaze sincere and persistent. 

I understand that one’s opinions tend to be one-sided and flawed, but I was still happy to have a member of the younger generation listen to what I had to say.

If I didn’t happen to hear the manager picking up a work-related call, I would have almost ignored his “other side” completely.

In those two years, I had only witnessed him answering a call in Souvenir once. Before, he would always set his phone on airplane mode at the door of the restaurant. But that time, it was probably a work call he had no choice but to answer.

Although I just happened to hear the contents of his conversation, the spacious and empty room had the tendency to amplify the volume of a person’s voice. Moreover, from his tone, this call probably didn't bring with it good news. 

I turned up the faucet, hoping the sound of running water would drown out the conversation floating from the neighbouring room. 

The voice sounded stern and cold, and in keeping with the first impression he gives others. But...

It wasn’t the young man I was familiar with. 

-

[ Chapter 5 ]

The manager I was used to was someone who would hum while peeling off the shells of prawns, would be in daze as he stared at the dessert in the oven as it gradually took shape, and would open a bottle of fine wine when there’s no business in the restaurant to attend to, and share a meal while chatting with me. 

However...

Just as the manager had never asked about my family, I was not overly curious about his “other side” or even more sides of him, unless he brought it up himself. It was comparable to how took over the task of washing the dishes from me after taking the call. 

“Mr Mills... sorry, I brought my work matters into the restaurant.”

In response to his sudden apology, I couldn’t react at all--

It wasn’t because of the age difference. The manager had never made such a guarantee to me, nor was there any contract or agreement written in black and white that there was such a rule. 

Although he said that he didn’t care about the restaurant’s performance, I could vaguely hazard a guess. But that was the first time I realised: This young man... perhaps he’s giving himself too much stress. 

“Manager, you were suddenly so stern... I even thought I was going to get fired.” I laughed, trying to lighten the mood, reconcile my own emotions, and cushion the following words. 

“If I get fired at this age, when the time comes and I meet my wife, she’d definitely laugh at me.”

That was the first time I brought up my own family. On that day, I saw the rare emotion called “curiosity” in the manager’s eyes. That night after work, the manager gave me a bottle of wine, and it had a packaging that I recognised.

“Does this mean... I have to sign on for another three years?” I cracked a joke, asking the manager how much this bottle of wine was “worth”.

But this young man, thirty years younger than I, had no intention of making a joke. He shook his head and told me seriously:

“Good wine accompanies good dishes. Even when alone, you have to live well.”

He said that this was not remuneration, but a suggestion.

This bottle of wine could be considered a quarterly award.

-

As of today, the three year contract has been fulfilled.

The last time I used that bottle of wine to ask a question, it wasn’t simply a joke.

As long as my body allows for it, I hope to welcome the next three years, and the three years after that...

Just like the name of the restaurant, every moment here is a souvenir worth cherishing.

Paradise on earth is not much.

To me, it’s like that.

-

-

Other cancelled R&S: here

Lucien’s cancelled R&S (by other user): here

[selchielesbian]

oops forgot this in my drafts! winter is basically done here in florida but here are my ‘cold’ weather fragrances! oil perfumery’s impression of jazz club. a carry over from fall, this is just my favorite date night scent! oil perfumery’s impression of tobacco vanille and lost cherry by tom ford.  tobacco vanille is one of my faaavorite tom ford scents (arguably it’s tom ford’s best fragrance). I ran out of the small bottle I had but oil perfumery’s dupe is a great replacement. very simple and straight forward--it’s warm tobacco and vanilla, a little bit of spice underneath. very grown and sexy!!! I don’t think it carries over well to warmer months so I try to wear this as much as possible during winter and I always get a lot of compliments. 

lost cherry is another tom ford scent that I LOVE but can’t justify spending the money for a bottle—especially when this dupe is so good. boozy bitter cherry-almond with an undercurrent of vanilla; not a long lasting fragrance but it becomes a wonderfully intimate skin scent. a lot of people describe this as smelling like cough syrup and. well. it’s not wrong lol but I love it! black phoenix alchemy lab’s rose red. I love rose fragrances (if you knew me in high school and college just straight up rose essential oil was my signature scent--my dad frequently commented that I smelled like a florist shop) and this one is my absolute favorite! it smells just like fresh cut roses--dewey, just a hint of that bitter green of the stem, and sweet. it’s like bringing in a little bit of spring. 

[minaa-munch]

@furrymakerkid asked:  writing request for you sweet mun. Minato was too smart to know no feeling was good. How did he cope with it? He didn't have Jiraiya Kushina or his team in the beginning.

Here’s a short answer: He didn’t.

Warning: Kinda dark and maybe NSFW if you squint. Possible triggers may include blood, gore and morbidity [it’s war, ne? Although I’ve restrained my descriptions...er, tried to. I hope you can read it, @furrymakerkid]

Disclaimer: This is my interpretation. Yours may be different and that’s okay - to each their own.

Image credit: Rurouni Kenshin

The trees whispered in soft, breathy murmurs as a gentle wind meandered past their many, leaf laden branches. All was calm, almost eerily silent sans the constant patter of boots against the bare crumble of rock; hushed whispers that were broken by the faint whistle of weapons and the occasional intake of breath. The usually relentless, rough soil was wet, almost muddy; yet there had been no downpour in weeks.

The land of Tsuchi no Kuni wept, while the heavens above bled. The glowing embryo of the sun surrendered to a cocoon of fluffy cumulus, lofty rays bleeding shades of red and orange across the darkening skies as a massacre quietly unfolded below; a beautiful painting, if only in the nature of its innate, organized chaos.

It would be nightfall soon.

“...”

It didn’t matter who raided which settlement first. What mattered was the fact that both sides had to keep an even body count. The dictum regarding warfare they were taught in the academy hardly covered such tactics; a few measly lectures so that bright eyed academy students wouldn’t take the trade less seriously.

It was all fun and games until someone lost a limb on their first field mission. Minato, in that regards, had been rather lucky. Where most cadets would rely on a team to ensure the success of a raid, all he needed was a handful of kunai.

He had always been ridiculously fast - even by regular standards.

The metal loop settled comfortably against his palm as tan digits curled around the hilt, seamlessly pushing it through with one, smooth movement before wrenching the weapon sideways, slicing the unexpected chest like one would tear open a package. Bloodied entrails followed the blade’s wake; peeking out of the soft folds of uneven, torn skin as the still pumping organ convulsed uselessly against twisting branches.

It was a quick execution; a means he had devised after their last field run. The metal loop of his kunai swung easily around his index finger as the waste was swiped off with a sharp flick of the wrist. Blue hues barely caught the woman’s expression as she dropped to her knees; he was already moving, the chakra signatures from his earlier sensory scan twinkling like quaint little targets.

They would be quick kills, for Minato hardly had the time for mercy. A kunai through the eye for anyone stupid enough to look his way, the splattered remains of a skull of a nin ambitious enough to try and sneak up on him, whereas most of the others barely got a chance to blink before deft digits pierced their forms with relative ease. Pure chakra would bounce off his skin like a controlled gale, as his natural wind affinity reduced muscle to fleshy ribbons.

It wasn’t needlessly cruel, per se; it simply happened to be the most effective in ensuring a kill. Besides, he had stopped feeling the warmth of skewered innards ages ago.

“Kami willing may you choke on your own blood”

The words drifted into the faint breeze that swept past their drenched fields; the scent of copper and compost intermingled into a sickly fragrance which sunk into his skin, down to his very bones.

Kami willing? As if Kami existed for people like them.

And then he heard it; a constant low hum that swelled to a certain crescendo, painting his subconscious in a murmur of static. Minato blinked curiously at his quivering fingers before casting a furtive glance around the field of littered innards and crimson. Hardly a soul in sight and yet...trailing off, blue hues returned to the tremble that had somehow seeped into his wrist. He couldn’t feel the slash decorating his palm, but he could definitely see the discoloration associated with poisoned weapons. Ugly strokes of yellows and blues bloomed all over his hand like pale, deathly flowers and he nearly dropped his weapon.

Fuck.

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

“Er...it wasn’t your first kill, was it?” The question was asked nonchalantly enough, as practiced hands wound a roll of gauze around his discoloured counterpart. Minato shot him a flat, unimpressed look which was met with a barely concealed smirk as he tied both ends with a vicious tug.

“I mean...you never get injured.” He continued, as Minato retracted his hand, giving it an experimental poke. “Lucky for you, you got back in time otherwise you’d lose your good arm.”

He was making fun of him, wasn’t he? “Yeah. Lucky.” the blond replied, tone as dry as the man’s wit before he curled his bandaged digits, “What about the hallucinogenic side effects?”

Would it have even mattered if it had been his first kill? The nin had been alive one moment and then he just…hadn’t. Was he supposed to feel something special about that? Besides, he had attacked Minato first.

Regardless. It had been so long ago, he hardly remembered the face associated with the deed. Since his deployment at Kusa, he had killed so many more with seldom a thought that he couldn’t be bothered to remember what they looked like. His last count had been, what, thirty three consecutive solo kills in thirty minutes? That was more than one life a minute.

Mere statistics. It didn’t matter.  

“Noise huh? It's the first I'm hearing of it.” Cue the methodical tap of wood against an unshaven chin, “Say, ever considered signing up for the psych evaluation thing they proposed back at HQ? I mean...there's nothing physically wrong with you. Maybe it's in your head." He placed his brush down on the makeshift table before letting out a snort, much to Minato’s chagrin.

“If what they’ve been harping about at HQ was true, we’d all be classified as nuts anyways.” The medic laughed, his grey hair reflecting warm honey in the dim lighting of the medical tent. Bemused, he took off his glasses to wipe a tear, before shooing him away with gloved digits. “Get going, Namikaze. We need you on the patrolling grounds. The war will be over soon, ne?”

Coloured hues met dark counterparts, bleeding ink and whispering false nothings.

“Ne?”

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

Hours turned into days, days turned into weeks, and the persistent whine in his head refused to shut up. Many an evening would witness the blond shifting his reading scroll to the side, just to press rough finger pads against his closed, burning lids.

He couldn’t recall the last time he had slept. Granted, Minato wasn’t one to sleep much to begin with; he was young, ridiculously curious and had the collective energy of twelve hyperactive gerbils. Still, he had always managed to clock in a few hours before, but this...

It was so damn loud. Minato couldn’t even concentrate for more than a few minutes before the constant low hum poked at his subconscious like a poisoned senbon. It tore at his mental-scape and sensory peripheral akin to flames consuming dry bark. Gone was his natural, healthy tan that had stayed resolute despite their meagre military rations, only to be replaced by a yellowish pallor, along with dark smudges underneath his weary hues.

A part of him was tempted to write to Jiraiya; the man always had answers to all the questions. They were in contact, of course, despite the state of the war and whatnot. Courier runs were few, but very dependable - but could he really divert the Jōnin’s attention from the frontlines where he was undoubtedly needed?

No, he couldn’t be that childish. Their local medic had dismissed his concerns too, so clearly it wasn’t that big a deal.

Right?

His seniors had different answers. Some blamed the weather, some considered the possibility that an enemy had contaminated their food supply [“I’ve been feeling kinda itchy myself.”] While some had nothing to offer at all. No answers. They figured he was finally losing his mind, after killing so many - in fact, most were still wary of him since even the older Chunin in their unit showed a little hesitance when it came to those child scouts who were no older than academy students.

But Minato? He operated on autopilot. For someone so young and without a hint of malice on his features, he was surprisingly cold hearted. Most of the new Chunin cadets steered well away from him, either in awe or fear whereas his older, more experienced counterparts often regarded him with complacent silence.

Not exactly friends, but comrades. They could probably share a few drinks together. Not converse though. Perish the thought.

The constant, low drone was driving him mad.

Arizuwa Yana; an experienced Chunin from the reserve strike unit apparently had a few theories. Said theories were dry at best, with little speculation as to the nuance of phantom sensations, though with plenty of promises of actual sensations.

Somehow, one thing had led to another and they had ended up intertwined together in one of the darker corners of the many, many tents in their unit. He was a few years younger than her, but apparently that wasn’t a problem.

Age didn't matter, gender didn't matter - nothing did.

The problem was that despite the hands ghosting his clothed sides, he still couldn’t feel anything; it was like his insides were frozen with nothing sans the constant thrum of sound for company. A frown settled between his brows at the thought as slender, yet calloused fingers tangled themselves within his hair, tugging with an odd sort of insistence.

It did nothing to quell the static he alone could still hear, could practically sense crawling under his skin like wild, feverish ants.

Static. It seemed that was the only thing he could feel these days.

And this…this wasn’t helping. Blue hues flickered to dark, older counterparts before tan digits removed themselves from the soft swell of her pretty face. “I’m sorry, senpai.” Is all he managed to say, not really sorry at all before the same fingers found her forehead, jutsu a mere whisper against her flushed skin.

Yana senpai was out cold in the span of a heartbeat. Dull orbs stared at her peaceful features for a few precious seconds before he rolled over, gaze fixed on the sloping ceiling and a forearm resting against his forehead.

Maa...what a waste.

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

Jiraiya sensei,

How are things at the front lines? Yuuhei taicho told us that Amegakure had officially joined the fray and you would be deployed there soon. Gambatte, sensei.

Ano…sensei, I don’t know what’s wrong with me but I’ve stopped feeling things. It started out as a weird sort of numbness, as if I was looking at the world through someone else’s eyes. I don’t even feel the sting of a cut anymore.

I’m scared. Is this a good thing? Oh by the way, you won’t believe what I found about that fuuin combination you told me about that one time. If it’s truly what you say it is, the Nindaime might have been on to something. See, if you swap the earth and wind constructs then the combination gets altered. I tried something with one of my fuuin tags today and the results were kinda wonky but in a good way. Let me know when you get this and I’ll send you all the workings I did.

Minato

He purposefully left out the bit where a part of him wanted to hide behind the elder, shaggy white mane and all, and stay in the comfort of his towering shadow. He had wanted to, though - desperately, too. But his writing brush had paused, a lone drop of ink blotting the parchment and upsetting his neat signature.

That had decided it then, hadn’t it? Gloved digits had rolled the parchment in a neat scroll, bound it with a convenient little fuuin and handed it in for the next courier run.

His paranoia was silly. Kusa was one of their priority outposts; full of experienced comrades and they were armed to the teeth. They were as safe as they would ever be. Besides, he had a near perfect kill streak - no one in their right wits would target him; Konoha’s number one rookie genius.

He felt so horribly alone though.

You’re not a child anymore, Minato.

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

Three weeks. No reply. The constant fighting was taking its toll on all sides; with dwindling numbers and increased recklessness. Their tiny little outpost presently served as the main rendezvous point between the frontlines fighting Iwa and the reserve forces that had set up camp a few miles away. The war would enter its final phase soon and everyone was too bone tired to complain.

Minato wanted to send another message, but if Jiraiya hadn’t had the time to respond to his previous letter…

Sigh. Clothed shoulders sagged a little while the side of his face met loosely curled digits, expression forlorn. Next to him, Inuzuka Saito quirked an eyebrow but said nothing. They were both stuck with watch duty, in case the platoon that had been sent out to assist their frontlines against Iwa a few days ago came stumbling back.

Initially, Minato had been a part of it too, but Yuuhei taicho had ordered otherwise. He and a few others would be used to sneak from behind and attack Iwa’s unguarded backs. His experimental jutsu was perfect for the purpose, and he had a near flawless strike record so far.

And in the off chance he failed? It would be...understandable. The wars saw their fair share of victims and the Memorial was an honour for any loyal, Konoha nin.

The very thought made him taste bile. Tan digits curled into a trembling fist at his knee, as frigid blue hues glared a hole through the encroaching shadows of dusk that surrounded their camp. Kusa was known for its rich forests; gigantic fauna and rivers that made it the perfect terrain to hide and lie in wait. Nightfall usually witnessed the shadows that clung to its natural, beautiful scenery slip from their places and creep inwards, bathing all matter; living and non-living, in its eerie, peaceful silence.

Yet he had not experienced any blissful silence in so long; the static was a constant thrum in his mental-scape, one he had learned to accept. The Namikaze would be damned if he lost what constituted as his sanity to a useless murmur of sound; he had not survived through the countless murders to plead death by insanity, had not endured the constant stench of rot and copper which hung around his frame like the scent of mustard oil that he used to maintain his weapons.

Had not sliced through flesh despite the whimpers begging for mercy--

Cue a shuddering sigh as eyes squeezed shut and he felt the urge to rip out his own hairs. Trembling digits inched upwards, intending to do just that before Saito’s voice broke the spell.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine.”

Namikaze Minato was going insane. Maybe he had always been insane and by Kami, he couldn’t bring himself to care anymore. Blue hues snapped open, staring listlessly at the dark and he swallowed thickly against his now dry throat. His frame tipped forwards; forearms resting against his knees as long, blond bangs hid his terrifyingly monotonous expression.

They would learn to loathe him, to fear him and he would slaughter them like the pointless sacks of meat that they we--

“Mail call!” A second interruption, though this time something actually managed to hit him in the back of his head. Fumbling hands barely caught it before it could hit the ground as the designated courier nin giggled, “Sorry, Namikaze.” Boots crunched against the leaf littered floor before he moved inside the camp, similar calls echoing in his wake. Minato blinked owlishly at the nin’s retreating figure, before shifting his gaze to the messy paper wrapping and miniature scroll that hung listlessly from one of the many corners.

It wasn’t from Jiraiya sensei.

Minato no baka,

Heard you were stuck in Kusa. That sucks ne? You’re surrounded by giant weeds and laughing shrooms. I’ve sent you some of those weird sticky quail egg things you like to cheer you up.

Guess who’ll be deployed soon. Me, that’s who! Maybe we’ll even be at the same outpost. You can show me all the nice napping spots ne? We got news the other day that the war wouldn’t last long. It’s been years already. I hope you’re still…you know, you. I miss you. Why did you stop writing?

Take care of yourself. Better not die or I’ll drag you back from the clutches of the shinigami just to kill you myself.

Kushina

Weird sticky quail egg things? Wait, was she talking about the sticky sweet beans he had accidentally spilled on her once?

“What are you grinning at?”

“Hm? Nothing, nothing.” And yet, there was something. He couldn’t help the silly little smile that tugged at his lips while his current patrol mate shot him a weird look. He was about to open his mouth to ask a second time, but then he saw the half open wrapping resting in the crook of Minato’s arm and made a quick swipe for it.

“Is that natto? Kami it’s been so long! Can I have some?”

“Sure.” Minato wasn’t even paying attention to the greedy fingers that had grabbed the miniature treats as soon as the words left his lips. Blue hues were still trained on the inky scrawl that denoted the kunoichi’s kanji. Kushina had always been an unpredictable little oddball. He didn’t even remember the last time he had written to her, but she clearly did. It made him feel strangely warm.

---And now he wanted to rip his own heart out and squeeze the treacherous, woeful thing until it would beat no more. Trembling digits rolled the scroll before a sweaty palm was pressed harshly against his aching forehead, the fingerless, leather glove providing little comfort to the uncomfortable warmth that stung his tightly closed lids.  

Kami...what was wrong with him?

As if Kami existed for people like them.  

Endnote: This took me far longer than I thought I would. Apologies! Ano, extra trippyness can be accorded to Koko, ne? She mentioned insanity, and since you had already tempted my inner crazy...

[lagycart]

the farm foodcraft, bangsar south, kuala lumpur.

this rather new restaurant in the sphere bangsar south has a really really nice aesthetics with lots of greenery around the space. it’s so nice and comfortable to just walk into the area, and the seats are super comfy too with natural lighting. they also have private space for party upstairs, which is very interesting.

we ordered different food to share among five of us, with some desserts.. happy harvest, fusion roast irish duck, crab risotto and the breakfast club for food, burnt cheesecake, the farm’s signature souffle and deconstructed kuih gulung for desserts. also tried the nitro coffee and jasmine chocolate too.

food arrived pretty fast except for the duck which they told us it takes longer to roast. i love the happy harvest salad very much, it’s great for group sharing, there’s so much ingredients inside, i really enjoy the mixture and the honey passion fruit dressing. crab risotto is really nice as well, with a juicy soft shell crab, breakfast club is pretty normal but good. roast duck was alright, but nothing too special, the flavor is quite nice and i loved the roasted vegetables.

nitro coffee was underwhelming, was expecting a smooth foamy texture but it was just like cold brew. jasmine chocolate was interesting, if you like jasmine, this would be a nice choice.

as for desserts, the deconstructed kuih gulung is very unique, and the fragrance of gula melaka and pandan is really good with coconut ice cream if you are a fan. souffle was okay as well, it was fluffy, a bit too sweet though. burnt cheesecake was pretty normal, definitely tasted better ones. all desserts came with ice cream but it melted really quickly though, could be due to the hot weather.

my friends and i did enjoy ourselves very much, the selling point is definitely the beautiful ambiance, great for photos as well. we would love to return again at night for a different feel, and also to try out other dishes on the menu.

[nightglider124]

Box

A Valentine’s oneshot considering I haven’t made a new one in 2 years. In true me style, it is dickkory. Obvs lmao.

It is also being written for the dickkory edition valentines fic challenge thing that @ships-bynoa came up with. (such an amazing thought bc who doesn’t love just binging dickkory oneshots??)

This is set in *arguably* my favourite universe with my two losers; the DCAU. 

Happy Valentine’s y’all <3 <3 <3

Trudging up the stairs, Dick cursed under his breath at the snow sliding off of his shoes and onto the carpet just outside their apartment. He shivered and sniffled, praying for the icy Winter to take its leave already.

As he approached the front door, he reached into his backpack for his keys, his fingers numb and trembling from the obscenely arctic temperature on the street.

Grasping the set of keys, he felt the warmth of the building begin to tickle his cheeks. As he fumbled for the correct key, he glanced out the windows of the hallway, shaking his head at the raging snow blizzard that showed no sign of slowing down.

He sighed; glad that he was home from work rather than still trying to fight his way through the blinding snowfall.

His long charcoal pea coat had endured well against the weather and his neck hadn’t been completely exposed either on account of the dark blue scarf he had wrapped around him, courtesy of Kory the previous Christmas. 

But, since the snowflakes had started melting, the dampness was beginning to seep through and redeliver the sharp cold bite.

Inserting the key into the lock, he turned it until he heard a click and opened the door to the apartment he shared with his girl.

He shut it closed behind him and turned to the coat rack, unraveling his scarf and hanging it up; shortly accompanied by his coat which he hurriedly shrugged himself out of. 

Dick shuddered and muttered, “God, I hate winter...” 

Lastly, he dropped his work backpack to the ground, beside the wooden shoe bench. He promptly dropped his set of keys in the basket atop of it and slid his frozen feet out of his shoes.

He glanced down at the unusual shaped plastic bag he’d also brought home, peering inside to check on the gift he’d brought home for his love. His hand snaked into his backpack to retrieve the second gift too.

Dick knew he didn’t need to check the third gift, having patted his back pocket almost a thousand times that day to make sure he didn’t lose it.

Rolling his shoulders back, he took a long, deep breath, steeling himself before making his presence known to his lovely girlfriend. Tonight was important and he tried hard to quell the nervous fluttering of his heart. 

He shook his head and turned the handle leading into the main area of their apartment.

The moment the door opened, he was hit by a rush of heat; the familiarity of the it, soothing his ruffled mood caused by the outdoors. Every muscle in his body relaxed as the atmosphere that simply was home washed over every inch of him. 

His fingers, cheeks, toes and nose all started tingling at the sudden change in temperature and he snuffled again as feeling started to return to his nerve endings. 

Dick grinned as his eyes caught sight of his girl, busying herself in the kitchen as she prepared what smelled like dinner. He reached into the plastic bag and slipped the bouquet of roses he’d bought for her out of it, tucking the heart shaped box of chocolates under his elbow.

Suddenly, he caught a whiff of the aroma lingering in the air. It was absolutely heavenly; there was a sweetness with a spiced kick and he could smell the delicious scent of chicken noodles.

He raised a brow as she turned around to face him,

“Babe, are you cooking?” He asked incredulously, being well aware of her lack of culinary skills by now,

Kory beamed at him, her hands clasped together and he felt himself melt a little at the utter beauty that she was. Her long red hair was down and draped over her shoulders. Her skin was glowing a little brighter than usual and she wore a loose, lemon off the shoulder sweater with some of his grey sweatpants; that silver bangle he’d bought her years ago still adorning her wrist like it did every single day. 

She giggled and flipped her hair so it cascaded down her back, “No, don’t worry.” She paused and moved aside to reveal Chinese takeout boxes and containers, “I ordered takeout.”

Dick grinned and wandered over to her, “You know the way to my heart.”

“So it would seem.” She smirked,

He juggled her gifts and leaned in, cupping her cheek and giving her a tender kiss on the lips. Kory hummed against him and pressed her palms against his broad chest before she sharply pulled back,

“X’hal! You are freezing, Dick!” She exclaimed, her concerned eyes checking him over,

“Good thing I have you to warm me up then, huh?” He cheeked,

Kory shook her head at him whilst he chuckled and held the roses and chocolates up to her,

“Happy Valentine’s day, Kory.” He smiled, thrilled with the way her face lit up,

“Oh, Dick...” She crooned, accepting his tokens of affections. She deeply inhaled the fresh fragrance of the roses before placing them on the counter alongside her box of chocolates.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and peppered kisses all over his still cold face, “And Happy Valentine’s day to you as well, my love.” Kory whispered,

“Hope you didn’t miss me too much today. Sorry again that I couldn’t get it off work-”

Kory kissed the tip of his nose and spun away from his grasp, “Do not worry. You are home now and that is all that matters. Besides, you are off tomorrow, yes?”

He gave her one of his signature lopsided grins, “I am.”

Her emerald orbs glimmered with mischief, “Then we shall make up for lost time.” She paused, “But for now, let’s eat before this food goes cold.”

Dick smirked as she started to dish up the rice, noodles, dumplings and other cuisine treasures onto both of their plates. 

“I’m just gonna change real quick, okay?” He mentioned as he ambled toward the hallway leading to their bedroom,

“Hurry or I shall eat your portion.” 

He offered up a fake gasp, “You wouldn’t dare!” 

“Mm we shall see...” She giggled as he jogged through the apartment,

Kory hummed a quiet tune to herself as she carted their plates over to the coffee table, briefly looking out the window at the snow storm continuing to billow through the streets.

She scurried back into the kitchen to grab their drinks as well as balancing the extra boxes of Chinese food for them to pick out of if they wanted to, without having to trek back and forth from the kitchen.

The Princess placed everything down on the coffee table and turned back to spread the fluffy grey blanket of theirs across the entirety of the couch, intent on making their evening a cozy one.

Happy with her work, she sat down on the couch and tucked her feet under her, curling up with her plate as she used a fork to shovel some noodles into her mouth.

Dick sighed as he came back out, wearing a simple black t-shirt and a pair of navy sweatpants, seeing as Kory had stolen his favourite grey ones. 

“That’s so much better.” He exhaled, running a hand through his slightly damp locks of ebony hair,

She flashed him a smiled and eyed her flowers on the counter, “Dick, could you please put my roses in some water?”

He nodded and drifted into the kitchen, reaching for the glass vase by the sink and filled it with fresh water from the faucet. Dick collected up the bouquet of roses and carefully placed them inside, tweaking them slightly so they were spread apart a little more.

Carrying the vase over, he propped it on the corner of the coffee table, happy with the loved up expression on Kory’s face.

He grinned as he sat beside her, pulling the blanket over him before reaching for his plate of food. Whilst he started scooping some chow mein from his dish, Dick picked up the TV remote and began skimming through their movie choices.

“What do you feel in the mood for?” 

“Something romantic.”

“Of course,” Dick smirked, “How about... Pretty Woman?”

Her eyes twinkled with excitement, nodding exuberantly around her mouthful of sweet and sour chicken.

Dick chuckled and pressed play, idly watching as the intro of the movie played through. He noticed Kory shuffle out of the corner of his eye and place her plate on the coffee table for a moment,

“Oh!” 

He turned his head to see her leaning over the side of the sofa, reaching for something,

“I almost forgot your gifts.” She murmured, pushing some of her auburn locks behind her ear.

Dick grinned and sat forward, placing his own plate on the table as well. He twisted to watch as she brought forth a large blue box which he took immediately when she passed it over to him.

Raising a dark brow, Dick opened it up and his mouth dropped in surprise,

“Kory... are these-”

“The lighting fixture upgrades you desired for your bike? Yes.” She told him, sounding quite pleased with her gift to him,

He shook his head, eyes scanning the inside for the pieces he needed to add more to his motorcycle. Dick gave her a bewildered laugh,

“How did you-”

“Victor mentioned that you were talking about them recently so I thought I would get them for you instead.” Kory informed him,

“This is amazing, babe. Thank you.” He mumbled, his tone laced with affection for the alien Princess sat beside him.

She nodded and her expression shifted to a sly one, a smirk springing to her lips. 

“There is... something else as well.” She murmured, presenting a small wrapped rectangle shape.

Dick quirked an eyebrow at her but took the gift nonetheless. Unwrapping it, he felt his eyes go wide and a heat spread to his cheeks that continued to drip down his neck at what he saw.

“Love Coupons?” He asked, chuckling,

She crawled closer to him so that her shoulder brushed against his and her eyes fell upon the small coupon booklet in his hands.

“I saw this mentioned on a television advertisement and proceeded to ask Raven about them. She told me it was a small book that is given to a loved one and contains the vouchers to claim hugs and kisses and breakfasts in bed...” She trailed off and watched as he opened it up, “However... I thought I would... make it more interesting...”

Kory nipped his earlobe and he felt his heart beat faster within his chest and he gulped as a thrill shot through the entirety of his body.

Dick kept flipping through the pages, the grin on his face only getting wider the more coupon options he stumbled across. She laid a hand on his back and rubbed in circles as they peered at Kory’s gift together.

“I hope these are valid from the minute you give me this.” He whispered,

She breathed a small giggle, “Oh? Do you have one in mind?”

He tilted his head from side to side before skipping back a few pages and pointed to the coupon.

“This one, definitely.” 

Kory blushed and grinned, “You always want that.”

“You’re extremely good at it; that’s why.”

“Any others?” She cooed, briefly playing with the locks of black hair at the base of his skull,

“There are a couple already I want to use tonight, actually.” He mumbled, inclining his head to kiss her jawline,

“And if I perhaps say... coupons cannot be used in conjunction with one another?” Kory purred,

“I’m sure you’ll make an exception for me.”

She gently smacked his shoulder and laughed, sliding back over to her edge of the sofa to continue watching their movie and eat their meal. Kory leaned forward, intending to pick up her plate but Dick stopped her with a soft hand to her upper arm.

“Wait, Kory?” 

Her emerald gems focused on him and she smiled, “Hm?”

Dick swallowed the lump in his throat as he stared back at this gorgeous woman who had agreed to be his lady so long ago. It was now or never and he knew it.

“I’ve... got something else for you.”

“Oh?” She giggled, “You just had to outdo me on gifts, didn’t you?”

He briefly chuckled before reaching into the pocket of his sweatpants, clasping it tightly in his hand before pulling it out. Dick held a wine colored box, coated in velvet which he gazed at for a long moment before he offered it to Kory,

She smirked and lifted a thin, manicured eyebrow, “I thought you already did the key thing, Dick?” 

Kory laughed to herself as she popped the lid open to look inside.

She froze as her eyes zeroed in on the object, carefully slotted within the soft cushioning inside. Her heart stopped for a long moment before thudding repeatedly beneath her breast.

There sat a beautiful silver ring with a small crystal lining within the band. In the center, a diamond was lodged, glittering in the dim light of their living room.

Kory swallowed, her throat suddenly having gone dry along with her breathing becoming somewhat shallow and labored.

She had been on earth long enough to know what this meant and what Dick was desiring from her.

Her eyes swiveled from the box to him, now down on one knee beside the couch, a small, shy smile gracing his lips. His deep blue eyes held a strong flicker of hope adjacent to the speck of anxiety that no doubt revolved around the uncertainty of what her answer would be.

“Kory... I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather spend the rest of my life with. I can’t imagine having anyone else next to me when I wake up in the morning and I don’t ever want that to stop...” He sucked in a deep breath, his eyes locking with hers, “Will you marry me?”

Kory felt tears prick her eyes, emotions welling and throbbing deep inside of her. Her lip trembled as she was overcome with love and devotion to this wonderful man kneeling on the floor before her.

“Yes.” She whispered, “Of course I’ll marry you, Dick.”

An elated smile broke forth onto his face and he retrieved the box from her to take the ring out, gently holding her left hand and sliding it onto her slender finger.

Kory matched his expression and slid onto her knees before him, cupping his face with both of her hands and pressed her lips to his igniting that spark between them that was always present beneath the surface. 

Dick’s hands came to rest on her waist and he pulled her closer to him, tilting his head to nip at her lower lip.

She pulled her head back, breaking the kiss and rested her forehead against his, 

“I love you... so much...” She panted, her eyes flitting between gazing at him and his lips,

Dick brushed his nose against hers, “And I love you, Kory.” 

He took a deep breath and smiled nervously, “And I can’t wait for you to be my wife.”

She giggled and stroked her fingers against his cheek, “A truly wonderful Valentine’s day, Dick...”

“I know... how will I top it next year?”

Kory burst out laughing, with him soon joining as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and cuddled him close, reveling in the utter warmth that was her love.

[hydrospanners]

Ask meme for Nirea! 2, 4, 5, and 9!!

Thank you for asking!! You are a goddess! I moved #9 up above #5 because I completely lost control and direction with that one and it turned into some kind of weird pseudo-fic and the only apology you’re going to get from me is the cut I put it under because it got so unnecessarily fucking long. Here is the link to the meme!!! I can’t promise all of my answers won’t be so excessive but ask anyway!!

2. Would they be a class specific character? (ie. Imperial Agent only. Republic character only)Nah, fam. Rea could wiggle her way into every class’ story. Whether you keep her or not would depend on your choices/alignment though.

4. Where would you recruit them from? Alderaan. She hates it there and I love to fuck with her.

9. What would they say if you clicked on them? “Hey, did you see that Cathar earlier? With that ass? Damn.”“Wanna see a trick?”“Bet you can’t do this.”“I don’t know whose idea weather was, but they deserve to be punched. A lot.”“I hear ya.”“We should get another droid.”“I just want one day where no one tries to kill me. Is that so much to ask?”“How far do you think I can bend this before it breaks?”“Hey look at this. Think it’s edible?”“Got time for some pazaak? We can play Nar Shaddaa rules.”“Are we there yet?”“Hey, do you smell that? Smells like--Oh. Shit. I think that’s me.”“See that thing over there? I bet you twenty credits I can lift it.”“Don’t mind me. Just admiring the view.”“Spot me a few creds? I’m good for it, I swear.”“You’d be so bored without me.”“Yeah, yeah. I’m with you.”“We have a saying on Corellia: Fuck off, I’m busy.”“Ugh, I’m bored. This is boring.”“Don’t look at me. This is your show.”“It wasn’t me!”“Alright you get first guess this time, chief. Is it mud or is it blood? Right there on my leg.”“Don’t worry, chief. I can’t resist me either.”

5. What would their recruitment mission be? It’s an ordinary sort of day in your extraordinary level 30 life. You’re just doing your thing, fighting crime, doing crime, rescuing random people and murdering somewhat less random people. You’re headed to Alderaan for your own reasons.

That’s when you get a call from whoever it is that’s always calling you with problems that only you can solve. From whoever usually preaches to you about duty, who gives you orders or threatens your life or just offers you good old-fashioned credits in exchange for your services, like any sensible person would. There’s a problem, they tell you. (There’s always a problem.) It’s a mission gone sideways, a crashed ship with a not entirely inconsequential Jedi on board who may or may not have gone rogue. Information is scarce, danger is guaranteed, and the problem is on Alderaan where the political situation is too unstable for any big, bold moves.

You take the job. It’s already on your way, and besides, you see potential in it. Potential good, potential credits, potential prestige. The potential to quiet your insatiable bloodlust, however temporarily. Whatever it is you’re looking for.

The Republic bosses want answers. What happened to the ship? To the mission? To the Jedi? They want you to bring her back into the fold if you can. They don’t say what to do if you can’t, but you can guess. The Imperial bosses want an edge. They want whatever was on that ship, but mostly they want the Jedi. She’s a thorn in the Imperial side and if they can’t make use of her, if she hasn’t fallen like rumor suggests, they want her out of the way.

Maybe you ask what the ship’s mission was, what the Jedi was even doing there. Maybe you know better than to ask questions. Regardless, the only information you get is a name.

Nirea Velaran.

A human woman, physically formidable for her species and notoriously unpredictable. She’s good with words and better with lightsabers and ‘dangerous’ is the only thing anyone will say about her for sure. That, and she’s Corellian.

It’s not the profile you’re used to for Jedi. Maybe that peaks your curiosity. Maybe it worries you. Maybe a job is a job and you don’t give a fuck about the details.

On Alderaan you follow the columns of smoke to a small lake nestled between snow-capped peaks, an oasis that might have been peaceful before a small frigate blew a crater into the mountain. The ship is split down the middle, its innards scattered across the ice. You don’t see any bodies, but your scanners detect something alive and moving in the wreckage.

You find a scavver in the remains of the ship’s engine room, greasy and poorly-clothed, elbow deep in the ship’s hyperdrive. The only weapon you can see is a shock stick that’s seen better days, leaning against the wall on the other side of the room.

She’s unconcerned by you and your armed companions. Asks if you’re in the market for an Aratech repulsion compensator. They’re hard to find, she promises, because Aratech pulled out of the hyperdrive manufacturing business almost as soon as they got into it. They make good speeders and, in her opinion, they ought to stick with that. She promises to give you a good price on account of her not having to haul it down the mountain if you buy it up here. She also tells you how the Jedi wasn’t interested on account of not having a ship anymore.

Maybe you notice the knowing gleam in her blue eyes, maybe you don’t. Either way, this scavver has information you want. You negotiate. With charm, with reason, with threats. It doesn’t matter how. You get what you want in the end, just like you always do.

The scavver takes you to the ship’s bridge, where she says she met the Jedi earlier. You find a Republic Senator’s corpse on the floor, two distinct lightsaber wounds in their chest, but none of the carbon scoring you’d expect from a fight. You get what you can from the ship’s damaged computers, but it doesn’t amount to much more than navcharts, a manifest, and escape pod launch records. When you turn to ask the scavver where the Jedi was headed, you find that she is gone and the path out of the bridge is sealed behind you.

You make a new path, of course. You always do.

The scavver’s trail predictably takes you back to your ship. The good news is that it’s still there. The bad news is your protocol droid is disassembled with apparent care, lying in a neat pile at the top of the boarding ramp. The word sorry is scrawled across its forehead in very poor handwriting using what you suspect to be lipstick. From the loving way the droid was taken apart, you guess the message isn’t for you.

There is no apology scrawled on the floor where one of your speeders used to be.

You follow your speeder--a simple task with all of your skills and your crew and your resources--to a valley below the crashsite, where the plains of pristine snow are pocked with scorched-black escape pods. Dozens upon dozens upon dozens of them, their hatches all hanging open. A path of brown mud and green grass marks the slow march of their inhabitants out of the valley.

There is another ship at the other end of the path. A freighter, small enough you aren’t sure it can even carry the hundreds of people slowly shuffling aboard. They are aliens, all of them, and clad in identical grey jumpsuits. You catch the gleam of metal around some of their wrists and ankles.

The scavver watches you from the ground beside the boarding ramp. Maybe you already guessed and maybe you didn’t, but you see now that she’s not what she seemed. The shabby cloaks and scarves have been thrown off, leaving her in a Jedi-brown combat suit she wears like a second skin, a lightsaber at each hip, standing tall and sure. The Force swirls around her in a storm of certainty and power and even if you can’t feel that sort of thing, there’s something about the way she holds herself that tells you it’s there all the same.

This is your objective. This is Nirea Velaran.

She tosses you a careless grin as the freighter’s aftermarket guns spin round to face you. You could perhaps kill her before they get you, but you wouldn’t survive to enjoy the rewards of a job well done. She tells you this doesn’t have to be stupid and you don’t have much choice but to talk. To let her explain.

What she tells you is an indictment of the Republic’s system of law, a story of a prison that’s little more than a slave mill for aliens, of Senators that blithely profit from the gaps deliberately written in their own laws. A story of the Jedi Master who knew about it and did nothing, who sent her to prop up something broken, who cared more about law than justice. It’s the story of a Jedi Knight who murdered a Senator in cold blood and will die before apologizing for it.

She’s cavalier about what she’s done, but passionate about her reasons for doing it. Whatever the price of this liberation turns out to be, she’s clearly prepared to pay it. Clearly prepared to ensure its success no matter what it does to her.

The boarding ramp begins to rise as the last of the prisoners scrambles aboard. You don’t know if she planned for the ship to leave without her, but she doesn’t seem to care. The guns remain fixed on your position.

You consider your options as your target considers you. Her attention slices through you like a laser, hot and sharp and precise. Looking for something specific, you think, and you can’t tell from her inscrutable expression whether she found it.

When she’s seen what she needs to, she offers you some flattery and a gratuitous wink. Maybe you appreciate it; maybe you don’t. She asks for a ride off this shit planet. Promises to put your droid back together and put a little life into your drab little ship. Mentions how it’s generally better to have someone with a talent for destruction and mayhem working for you than than against you. And maybe she hints that she’s got talents beyond wanton chaos. Maybe she offers to show you what they are.

Accepting her offer will have consequences. This Jedi is the sort of person who wears trouble like a signature fragrance. You are familiar enough with trouble by now to know you can’t stand that close to its storm without being swept up yourself. But maybe you can make that storm work for you. Maybe it’s your kind of storm.

Or maybe it isn’t. Maybe you have enough trouble of your own. Maybe you aren’t interested in the kind of trouble a willful, bleeding-heart Jedi carries with her.

She watches you with a look that’s shameless and hungry and not entirely trustworthy. There’s a kind of calculation to the fire behind her eyes and a tension in her body that tells you time is short. You ask yourself: is Nirea Velaran a risk worth taking?

[sugarbombxv-blog]

Chocobros + Island Summers

Tags: @antiloquist @atarostarling @averyverymary @lazarustrashpit @stunninglyignis @tehrevving @xalmasyx @redmasquerade13 @sammy4417 @riding-prompto @miss-pixieice @drpepper280 @tales-of-a-fallen-star @jastiss @kerohime715 ; let me know if you want in (or out)! Notes: Part headcanon, part drabble, part playlist. SFW with a tiny hint of more. Just a bit of light writing whilst I work on my other WIPs. I know it’s winter in most places right now but I live in a country where it’s warm all year round so.. I hope the summery elements in this will help warm you up (even a little) from all that cold/frost/snow! Also, I think my muse just made me fall a little in love with Prompto. No, sunshine boy, I belong to Ignis! If you liked my work and would love to buy me a coffee, I’d be eternally grateful!  

Noctis | Island in the Sun - Weezer You feel the sun-warmed sand between your toes as you take a long, leisurely walk along the beach with Noctis beside you, the both of you talking and laughing as you scale the island, sharing stories and experiences. The sounds of the endless waves join in your conversations, and Noctis stops by a makeshift stall to order two coconut waters, served fresh in their actual husks. He passes one to you and you take a sip, commenting on how refreshing the beverage is in the balmy weather. The two of you continue to wander along the stretches of sand, letting the late afternoon sun warm your faces when you come across hammocks tied to a couple of palm trees by the beach. Noctis climbs into one, and lifts you up in his arms so you can climb into it with him. As you settle into the curve of the hammock with his body against yours, a song plays from the beachside cafe nearby. You lay back on Noctis’ chest and he strokes your hair, the both of you enjoying the last minutes of the late sunshine, listening to the waves lapping rhythmically against the shore. He says something and you laugh, turning to look up at him fondly. He then leans down to kiss you, and the two of you share a discreet and delicious moment of bliss, the ocean air caressing you as you caress each other, ensconced in the safe confines of the hammock, away from the public eye. Gladio | Smooth - Santana ft. Rob Thomas You breathe in deeply, inhaling the lush scent of foliage and life around you. Gladio has taken you on a hike in the early hours of the day, and the both of you spend the next few hours exploring the wonders of nature together, taking in the sights, smells, and sounds of the island. You return to civilisation by noon, both sweaty, satisfied, and starving. Sitting yourselves down at an al fresco cafe for lunch, Gladio gets the two of you ice-cold beers to cool down and you spend the rest of the afternoon kicking back with hearty food and drinks, teasing each other mercilessly over platters of grilled meat and fries. An outdoor band begins to play as the sun sets, the afterlight casting a honeyed glow on the shops and bars that line the street, and the both of you opt for slightly harder liquor, your suggestive sparring only intensifying with the boldness which comes with the alcohol. Not one to back down in the face of fierce competition, Gladio decides on another approach, standing up and playfully pulling you along with him, the strength of his hand warm around yours. The two of you half-walk, half-run across the promenade that faced the cobalt sea, slipping into a quiet side street where Gladio proceeds to push you against the wall in the coolness of the night air, wanting to get hot and heavy with you. Prompto | Sunny - Papa Ya The heavy bass of music pulses around you and you take a sip of your chilled cocktail, smiling at the camera - and the man behind it. Click! Grinning, Prompto bounds over to you, proudly showing you the picture he just took. You pretend to mull over the picture for a second, but before he could make a retort of any sort, you grin back at him, making his signature finger guns with your own hands and aiming them at him. He laughs with so much warmth you melt a little inside, and takes a seat by the bar next to you. The both of you are at the island’s newest beach club, a stylish, contemporary space overlooking the expanse of ocean and beyond. Prompto calls for the bartender to bring you some shots and the two of you down them in good-natured competition, trying to outdo each other. He continues to take photographs of you and with you throughout, complimenting you on your dress, your hair, your smile, everything. You spend the rest of the evening drinking and dancing, and as the night progresses, Prompto dances a little closer to you, yet still keeping to the rhythm of the music. He runs his hands down your waist and presses his forehead to yours, smiling at you in elation, his blond hair falling across his face. The both of you then run out of the club towards the beach hand in hand, laughing as a wave crashes into the shore, saltwater spray filling the air around you, coating your faces. Prompto continues to dance with you with sand and froth around your ankles, only stopping so he can start kissing you instead. Ignis | Music of the Sun - Rihanna The faint scent of frangipani, jasmine, and sea salt tickles your senses, and you close your eyes, savouring the fragrance of the fresh flowers combined with the smell of the ocean. You’re seated in a lovely cliffside restaurant nestled on a terraced plot of land on the island, overlooking the rest of the isle and the glistening turquoise waters in the distance. Ignis sits opposite you, a soft smile on his face as the both of you enjoy a delicious afternoon meal. You share insightful conversations over some of the most delectable food you have ever tasted, and Ignis chuckles at your enthusiasm, promising that he will attempt to recreate those very same dishes for you one day. Shortly after your last mouthful of dessert - a strawberry dipped in melted chocolate, a song comes on and Ignis rises from his chair, offering you his hand as he asks you for a dance. You accept it with a blush, and he leads you to a small open space on the floor by the bar. Pulling you close, he starts to move, and you fall in step with him. He is the epitome of grace and elegance as he dances with you, and he leans in to tell you how beautiful you look, his low, dulcet voice barely above a whisper. His seafoam green eyes sparkle with warmth, and he places a tender kiss on your temple, moving closer to your ear to huskily ask if he can share a different sort of dance with you in more private settings after this one.

[theninjasanctuary]

As lucky as I’ve been to only have mild symptoms, 8+ days into said symptoms now, and I am not impressed with how recovery is going. Waking up, I felt weak and vaguely feverish again - not confirmed by the thermometer at the time, but sure enough, by the evening it was back at 37,2° like clockwork. I have had issues in the past with picking up a small cold and then having a fever every evening for a month or even longer. Sense of smell is still not there, as in, if I shove an open perfume bottle right under my nose and breathe in as hard as I can, there seems to be a vague trace of the usual fragrance (citrussy and sour notes at least), but nothing else. Food still has flavour, thankfully, but I’m not feeling up to cooking at all and eating whatever. Stretching for a couple of minutes concludes exercise for the day. Have sent some emails, but am not feeling up to work at all, even though I am desperately bored of everything else. OTL

I really, really wish I had the strength to figure out how to get some fucking help with my issues, because the amount of dead serious writing tasks for the next couple of years that are career-ending if I don’t complete them, is giving me a sense of blind, paralyzing panic, and I can’t even LOOK at any of the unfinished files I have open, never mind completing any meaningful sentences. 

Oh well. The weather has taken a sharp turn towards spring, it’s been around 6° C day and night for the past 48 hours and the snow is melting... the problem is, the walkways were not exactly well cleaned over the past month or so of copious snowfall, and then there was a day of ice rain on Tuesday, coating everything in nearly 2 cm of ice, so the thick layer of well packed snow and ice is taking a while to melt, and in the meantime, walking is a problem. And of course I am not allowed to go anywhere as is, even if I felt up to it, but I have a package in a DHL locker since Monday, and hopefully the boyf will brave the elements and pick it up tomorrow (he’s no longer quarantined, but is not feeling amazing either), or else they’ll send it back to the UK. OTL

I fucking hate phone calls from couriers in the morning, and my inability to make the right decisions. The guy called and asked if taking the package to a pickup locker instead of delivery would be ok. What was I supposed to tell him when I knew I’ve got covid, “no, I insist you deliver it in person?” Should have asked that he leave it outside the apartment door and ring the bell (it’s obvious he didn’t require a signature if a locker was an option), but I’m not thinking straight when rudely woken up at ungodly hours. Then again if I turn the phone off or decline calls, it’ll cause me even more hassle with delayed deliveries, and having someone pilfer my packages and the delivery service not taking a damn ounce of responsibility for it.

[queenofnichefragrances]

Yesterday my SOTD was Stercus from @ortoparisi a relatively new addition to my collection from a brand that has really captured my interest thanks to @questioningscents who encouraged me to explore these, I now want them all and am slowly getting there with only 3 to add. This is something I’d encourage you to sample for yourself as I don’t think it’s blind buy safe, it’s quite the contradiction, it opens quite bold and animalic I’d say there’s probably some Oud in there or at least a very well done Oud accord, definitely some castoreum which makes its presence known from the get go, however there’s also some sweetness coming from citruses possibly mandarin/tangerine? You get deep rich woods, some leather and the signature musks that are to be expected from the brand, on my skin it’s bold for the first few hours with decent sillage, after that it slowly gets closer to the skin but is always present especially if you get warm it seems to revive itself, not as loud as say Terroni but it’s still a fantastic performer and suits the cold weather we are having perfectly, I could still smell this when I got home at the end of my working day, do try it and let me know your thoughts. . . . #fragrancelover #nichefragrance #fragrancecollector #instaperfume #fragrance #scent #scentoftheday #fragrancefanatic #luxuryfragrance #luxurybrands #nicheperfume #nichescent #style #irresistibleparfums #fragranceaddict #smellinggood #fragrant #fragranceoftheday #mrcologne76 #mrcologne76perfumeblog #idontseegenderinfragrances #artofperfumery #fraghead #perfumeoftheday #fabtrends_miya #queenofnichefragrances (at Edinburgh, United Kingdom) https://www.instagram.com/p/CJ_S17SBWQd/?igshid=p1oszjuf2scz