#tangerine spice soap

[y2kbeautyandother2000sstuff]

BBW Tangerine Spice Moisture-Rich Cleansing Bar (the setcomes with a Sweet Pea and whatever the one in the middle is )

mid 1990s-early 2000s

Found on Ebay, user mofate98

[lalathemediterraneanmermaid]

What do ikeprince suitors smell like? Pt.2

Hi my beautiful Belles, it's such an honor to present you with part 2 of "What do ikeprince suitors smell like? I absolutely loved and had so much fun doing the first part. So here is the promised second part, where we will discover the perfumes that the princes from Rhodolite are most likely to wear. This is not entirely accurate - it's only based on their routes information and the vibe each boy gives me.

Jin Grandet

The big bro, seductive womanizer and alcohol lover definitely smells like seduction and playfulness with a mature vibe. I'm sensing some kind of citrusy freshness along with some spices on top of a woody warm bed.

Notes: bergamot, galbanum, tangerine, liqueur, pink pepper, ho leaf, amber, rosewood and oakmoss.

Perfumes he might like:

Sauvage - Dior (Basic, but it still works)

Cuirs - Carner Barcelona

Grand Soir - Maison Francis Kurkdjian (sometimes he takes this one from Nokto's perfume collection).

CH Men Prive - Carolina Herrera - His favourite, probably layered with "Grand Soir" for special occasions.

Stronger With You Intensely - Giorgio Armani

Chevalier Michel

King Highness, my man, your man, nation's man, world's man. It is said in his route that he showers a lot. It is also said by Belle that Chev smells like vetiver and winter. So I'm getting fresh clean boy vibes from our pookie man. He may also be a huge Byredo boy.

Notes: vetiver, green apple, wintergreen, sweet orange, white rose, white lily, jasmine, gardenia, ylang-ylang, sage and soap.

Perfumes he might like:

Sycomore - Chanel

Grey Vetiver - Tom Ford

Philosykos - Diptyque

Aqua Universalis - Maison Francis Kurkdjian - His favourite

Blanche - Byredo - His second favourite

Bal d'Afrique - Byredo

Mister Marvelous - Byredo

Clavis Lelouch

The Hellcat Troublemaker charming gentleman probably smells like sweat, chaos, trouble, chemicals and gunpowder, but let's pretend he doesn't. This mf brings joy and happiness to everyone's lives. He's the life of the party. We've all been charmed by him at any point in the series, don't you dare denying it. Yes, he is traumatized, but so are we. He is dazzling and fresh like a summer breeze, sweet and funny like an ice cream.

Notes: mandarin, lemon, sea salt, jasmine, rose, muguet, heliotrope, musk, vanilla, coconut and aromatic herbs.

Perfumes he might like:

Bleu de Chanel - Chanel (courtesy of Keith)

Aqua Allegoria Bergamote Calabria - Guerlain - His favourite (layered with "Pulp" to add playfulness).

Blu Mediterraneo: Fico di Amalfi - Acqua di Parma

Pulp - Byredo - His other favourite, he loves this one because he stole it from Chevalier's Byredo collection.

Allure Homme Sport - Chanel (this one is the one he uses while pranking people, just because the word "sport" in the perfume's name.)

Leon Dompteur

The gold digger girl dinner love of my life. He is a true gentleman, he treats you right, it's the princess treatment for me girl. He is classy, sweet, thoughtful, a liar friendly, masculine (in the best way possible) and sensitive. Roses seem to bloom whenever he smiles. A provider. Husband material. He gifts you PLUSHIES, how cute is that? Love him.

Notes: lavender, linalool, bergamot, roses, cinnamon, anise, clove, thyme, jasmine and cedarwood.

Perfumes he might like:

Fahrenheit - Dior - His favourite for high events

Y Eau de Parfum - Yves Saint Laurent

Rive Gauche pour Homme - Yves Saint Laurent - His favourite

Black Saffron - Byredo

L'Homme Ideal Sport - Guerlain

Blenheim Bouquet - Penhaligon's

Green Irish Tweed - Creed - His second favourite (layered "Black Saffron").

Yves Kloss

The Barbie Haughty Kitty. He definitely smells like flowers, especially roses, and something really sweet, gourmand with a soft clean base.

Notes: apple, peony, rose, apricot, jasmine, iris, musk, vanilla, praline, sugar, strawberry and peach.

Perfumes he might like:

Peony & Blush Suede - Jo Malone London

White Suede - Tom Ford

Eau Rose - Diptyque

Chanel Chance Eau Tendre

Love in White - Creed

The Favourite - Penhaligon's - His favourite

Bianco Latte - Giardini Di Toscana (layered with "Eau Rose") - His favourite combination (he uses this one to go see you Belle).

Licht Klein

The lone wolf, our cutie pie, Yves's baby. I feel like he smells like fresh rain on top of a sweet and clean base with some spices added.

Notes: orange, wintergreen, rain, mint, green apple, white lily, sweet pea, orchid, vanilla and sandalwood.

Perfumes he might like:

Silver Mountain Water - Creed

Acqua di Giò Profumo - Giorgio Armani

Royal Water - Creed - His favourite

Celeste - Giardini Di Toscana

Millésime Impérial - Creed (Silvio's gift).

Nokto Klein

Our frivolous womanizer, the slay and cunning fox, my baby. Chev's personal clown. He LOVES perfumes - Silvio and he are in some kind of competition about who has more perfumes. He is the layering king, not just because his perfume gets mixed with other girls' scents, but because he knows what he is doing. In literally everyone's routes, it's said that our silly boy who just wants to be loved and understood smells like a red flag "late night trysts", but what exactly that smells like?

Notes: Freesia, white rose, ylang-ylang, orange blossom, cinnamon, musk, sandalwood, heliotrope, queen of the night, vanilla and jasmine.

Perfumes he might like:

L'Homme Ideal - Guerlain

Noir - Tom Ford

Black Orchid - Tom Ford

Do Son - Diptyque

Flowerhead - Byredo

Luna - Penhaligon's

Grand Soir - Maison Francis Kurkdjian

Roses Musk - Montale

Intense Café - Montale

Reflection Man - Amouage (matching with Azel)

Royal Mayfair - Creed

Borabora - Giardini Di Toscana - His favourite

Blu Mare - Giardini Di Toscana (Silvio's gift)

Luke Randolph

Our own big (enormous) Winnie the Pooh. The Honey Lover. The Nap Lover. He is sweet, lovable and caring, the perfect brother you will never have. He will do anything to help you and to make you happy. He doesn't really care that much about his appearance, so the majority of his perfumes are gifted.

Notes: Honey, vanilla, herbs, honeysuckle, violet leaf, white musk and amber.

Perfumes he might like:

Mojave Ghost - Byredo (Clavis's gift, stolen fom Chev's perfume collection)

Oajan - Parfums de Marly (Jin's gift)

Chergui - Serge Lutens (Sariel's gift)

Honey Aoud - Montale - His favourite

And this is the end. Hope you enjoyed this silly little simulation, because I did. I had so much fun, especially with ma' boy Clavis.

This may not be the end of this series, next I'm planning to do the same dynamics (scents and perfumes) with our evil boys from Ikemen Villains. But if you have any suggestions let me know!!!

Kisses my beautiful little bunnies. xoxo.

[yepperoniro]

Class 1-A's HC Scent.

In no specific order

1. Shoto Todoroki: Sandlewood and Blue Cypress. Somehow smells Both fresh and warm. [He uses Bleu de Channel. It compliments the Cypress.]

2. Izuku Midoriya... after showering Italian bergamot, juniper, and fresh musk. The musk get stronger and stronger until he smells like a crowded amusement park line. [He uses soap (almight branded) and water.]

3. Katsuki Bakugo: naturally he smells very Sulfuric and musk. He uses Axe Too Much Axe. Axe Excite specifically.

4. Shota Aizawa: Aromanic Sage and Tonka Bean. [He uses an unscented 3 in 1.]

5. Tsuyu Asui: Patchouli and Agave Nector [uses Lavender scented all natural soaps]

6. Fumikage Tokoyami: Amber, and Spiced Bergamot. [Uses Oldspice Wolfthorn]

7. Tenya Ida: who knows he uses way too much Dior Sauvage and he showers enough and doesn't have such an offensive scent to notice.

8. Momo Yaoyorozu: Sugared Musk and Lavender. [She uses vanilla scented products.]

9. Ochaco Uraraka: Strawberry Vanella Beans [She uses scentless products.]

10. Eijiro Kirishima: White Pepper and Strong Musk. [He uses Oldspice Captian.]

11. Mina Ashido: Peonies, Plum musks, and over all sweet. (Perhaps too sweet.) [She uses Calvin Klein Obsession. It helps tame the scent.]

12. Mezou Shoji: Musk and Ceader wood. [Uses whatever he gets in his multiple hands.]

13. Mashirao Ojiro [my birthday buddy]: Sandlewood and Neroli nectar. (Uses Dawn Dish soap. If it's strong on pots and pans, it's fine for him... Someone help him...)

14. Denki Kaminari: Clementines and Mandarins. (Uses Axe Apollo. And tons of it. He doesn't need to as much as his classmates he just likes to fit it. Someone take the spray away from him!)

15. Kyoka Jiro: Patchouli and Sandelwood. (She uses Rose scented products.)

16. Hanta Sero: Cheesy... slightly Feminine surprisingly... very bad BO. Man showers when he sees his homies showering (after hero class and such.) [He covers himself with Axe Gold Temptation. And he needs it well he needs something... not as bad as Midoriya doe...]

17. Rikidou Satao: Smells woody and Tonka Bean. Naturally. He usually smells like sugar brown sugar, whip topping, or pound cake.

18. Koji Kodo: Musk and Mahogany. [He uses five in one Irish springs]

19. Toru Hagakure: cherry blossoms, Asian pears, and soft musk. [She uses Loves Baby Soft.]

20. Yuga Aoyama: Tangerines, Peaches and Oranges. Overall, fruity (I didn't even mean it like that.) [He uses Versace Eros]

21. Hitoshi Shinso: Leather, Amber Woods and Soft Musk. [He uses smells that compliment his natural scent.]

Wait did you want Mineta as well...

Okayy....

Minoru Mineta: Strong Musk! Not pleasant musk either. He smells like jizz like dried cum. It's always a thing. He tries to cover it with cheep Lavender and Vanilla. He ends up smelling like putrid Jizz, Generic Hand lotion, and chemicals. (Happy now? Cause I'm not. I had to imagine what all that would smell like)

[jere-me--oh-my]

2024 Christmas with the Johnsons!

The Traditional Johnson Christmas Stockings! (Given to all guests spending the holiday with them, containing:

A tangerine (for tradition)

A bag of chocolate coins

A tube of Rowntrees Fruit Pastilles

A handcrafted all-natural nice smelling soap

A pack of 'mild-lighters' for studying with!

A gift-set of hot chocolate spoons perfect for heating up in the dorm microwave

A pack of positive affirmation cards

Plus individualised bonus presents included in the stocking

For Mushu! - A Portable Chilli Hot Sauce keyring so he can always add a bit of spice to canteen meals; Lip balm for the cold; A selection of 'best of British' sweets & chocolate; a 'Swynlake' wooden tree ornament @dragon-not-a-lizard

For Joanna! - A selection of 'best of British' sweets & chocolate; some hand-knitted warm socks; a warm fleece-lined hat; some thick gloves perfect for snowball fights; lip balm for the cold; a 'Swynlake' wooden tree ornament @joanna-vane

[mmkin]

Get you some Hatchan lovin'! (New chapter of Get You Some Arlong Pirates)

The next installment of my Get You Some Arlong Pirates/Sirens of the Sea story is up - Hatchan gets some more loving from his reader. AO3 link here.

Content warning - This is Hatchan - so this chapter has smut and is 18+ but it's all fluff/sweetness for our octopus boi. It's so sweet you might end up needing some insulin.

The chapter can also be found in this post under the cut and the lovely Hatchan statues I found on the web.

V – Octpussy 2

o0o0o0o

Hatchan calls you ‘kitten’ as a pet name. One might think it’s because of your whiskers, but your lover says it’s because you’re cute and cuddly and feisty like a kitten and that your whiskers are just a bonus. He’s the only one who you will tolerate cat jokes from, and you do like being petted by him.

o0o0o0o

Even though you have fewer hands than him, you've proven that you can be quite handsy when you want to. You can grab Hatchan by the waistband of his shorts. You can cup his ass or his crotch, or you can press your hand to his chest or lower back. There are plenty of arms on him for you to run your hands or fingers along lovingly or provocatively – sometimes both. Though he likes praise – and you lavish plenty on him – sometimes you prefer to let your hands do the talking, and Hatchan listens very well either way.

You can feel him soaking up your affection like a sponge, only you never feel drained from it. You find it so easy to give it to him, especially since he reciprocates so well. Few things excite you more than coming home and seeing Hatchan sprawled out, ready for some loving from you, or hearing him whisper into your ear to come to bed in a few minutes. He's learned that you like seeing him running all of his hands over himself, his erection at full mast, and waiting for whatever you might desire to do with it – or him.

o0o0o0o

You surprise him one night on his takoyaki ship. His helpers have left, most of the lights are off, and he’s almost done with the cleaning when you walk onto the ship, letting yourself in past the gate.

Hatchan's surprised to see you but doesn't complain, and asks if you'd like some of the leftover food. You saunter towards him with a definite sway of your hips. "Maybe later," you purr as you close in on him. "Right now, I'm in the mood for some Hatchan. Are you serving it?"

“This is such a nice surprise!” he exclaims softly before nodding eagerly at your question, offering no resistance as you push him against the wall.

“I thought you deserved one,” you reply as you press yourself against him, wiggling aggressively. You pull at his shoulders to make him lean down so you can pepper the side of his face with kisses. His hands slide along your body hungrily as he nuzzles you back.

“My sweet octopus man,” you murmur. “You are so precious to me, never forget that.”

He lets out a happy ‘nyu’ and offers you a firm nuzzle, tightening his embrace, his hands becoming more aggressive in their caresses.

“And so handsome and sexy,” you say, continuing your praise. He deserves every kind word you can offer. “You know I wanted you from the first moment I saw you?” You nibble along his ear as a couple of his hands slide under your clothes. You arch in response. “Yes, Hatchan. I need you. Give it all to me,” You run your other hand through his hair.

“You will have it all,” he replies hotly, his cheeks visibly flushed with arousal. “But little kitty cat, I need your pussy too,” he adds, sprinkling the heated mood with a touch of humor. You respond with a playful growl, and he hoists you up on the counter, pulling you to himself roughly after his hands have divested the two of you of any obstructions.

There is a faint scent of fried dough and cooking grease mixed with tangerine-scented soap, and a pleasing undertone of spices and the sea breeze. You are quick to learn that a counter isn’t the optimal surface for lovemaking after an extended amount of time, but what the hell, you’re having fun with Hatchan and trying something new.

o0o0o0o

Sometimes, when Arlong captures a ship and finds practical items among the booty, he’ll bring it over to the village for the fishmen to claim for themselves. Who would say no to furniture, bedding, or clothes, and for some of the villagers or crew members, possession of these items is an added fuck you to the humans who had these items stolen from them. And for escaped slaves, some of these items are the nicest things they have ever owned.

You've heard stories of how Arlong can be a real asshole, but in your experience, he has shown support and care for making this a place safe for his brothers and sisters. So one day, when you're given the chance to look over some booty, you notice a full-length mirror, the type that stands on its own and could be angled by an elegantly-carved knob on the side. It's almost a wonder it wasn't broken on the voyage here, but you're entranced by the polished metal and fine woodwork.

There's not much practical use for it as you're not vain, but it is a nice decoration and it's the first serious decorating choice you've made in the home since you moved in with Hatchan. However, one day, Hatchan gently guides you over to stand in front of the mirror and stands behind you with his arms wrapped around you. The two of you stare at your reflections, and you see what others see when you're out with Hatchan. A tall, handsome octopus and his cute little catfish partner wrapped up in his loving embrace.

“We make a fine couple,” you finally say with a faint smile. You do find the image pleasing, with your lover wrapped around you, nuzzling the side of your face.

“What would we see if we had sex in front of it?” he asks. Your eyes widen at this as you stare at the reflection, feeling his arms squeeze around you as he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, the corners of his mouth tugging into an amorous grin. You grin back at him, nodding eagerly.

The fact that the mirror can be adjusted offers a nice choice of angles, and you and Hatchan waste no time in exploring some of them, taking turns choosing the position and angle of the glass. You on top of him. Him riding you from behind. Lying side by side. Missionary with your heads pointed towards the mirror, your head hanging over the edge of the mat. You held up in the air with six hands. One of you giving oral to the other or using your hand. There are plenty enough angles and views to appreciate, as well as noting how either of you responds to the other, or the pleasure you're able to see on one another's faces even if you're not facing each other.

You know that Hatchan feels he lucked out with you, but you think you’re the luckier one. You look down, rubbing his shoulder and back as he rests his head on your lap, the two of you cuddling late in the night.

o0o0o0o

One of your favorite things to do is walking on the beach with Hatchan. Sometimes this is accompanied by a swim. The two of you have some time off, so he's made a picnic and you found a secluded spot, the waves making a pleasant backdrop to the meal you share with him, and you sit there on the blanket as he sprawls across one side of it, looking much like a starfish with extra limbs. You trace your finger lightly along the hand that's closest to you. He lightly grabs for it, and you make a game of it, trailing your finger along the blanket and the three hands at that side, letting him grab your hand or fingers before letting go, almost like he's a cat you're playing with.

“It’s so nice being here with you,” you hear him say as he stares up at the sky, a thoughtful expression on his face. “And nice to have you to come home to.” There’s a faint note of sadness in his voice that you didn’t expect to hear.

“Are you all right?” you ask with concern. He blinks and looks at you. “You sounded sad for a minute there.”

He rolls over so that he’s on his side, and uses the arms on his free side to pull you into a tight embrace as he makes a soft ‘nyu’ sound.

“When I'm with you, I don't have to think of being a pirate." He offers no further explanation as he hugs you tight and nuzzles you almost like you're a stuffed animal. You know of Arlong's reputation, and that it did not come out of nowhere. You've never been involved in pirating unless you count the work you've done as part of Kaneshiro's workers on repairing or taking apart ships the Arlong Pirates capture. The same can not be said for Hatchan, you know. He and Arlong have been friends since they were children and have been through a lot together, though Hatchan is much more ready to let go of his grievances than Arlong.

You've never asked Hatchan probing questions about his time in the Arlong Pirates. If you're being honest, it's because you don't want to know. You don't want to imagine your sweet octopus man involved in violence, but you know it's part of his past and has been part of his work. Arlong is a fearsome and powerful man, and Hatchan is quite pliant in his hands. It's a strange bond these longtime friends share. You don't doubt that Arlong is loyal to his nakama, but he certainly won't hesitate to use Hatchan's talents when it suits him.

So it’s natural that he sees his home as a refuge, especially with you there. You offer him a quiet domesticity that many pirates never get. And the kind soul that resides within the large and impressive octopus man craves a safe place. He’s gotten that through Arlong Park, for Arlong provides for his nakama, regardless of the means it took to achieve it.

Now you are here, making things even better. Arlong might provide a safe place, but you are the one that provides the warmth. As you ponder his words, you wonder what you can say. You can’t tell Hatchan to leave the crew. Nor do you want him to, you’re not going to be the kind of partner who manipulates her man. You understand his loyalty to Arlong, and you know the good Arlong has done for fishmen and merfolk.

“We’ve both been through a lot. Done things we weren’t proud of.” You stroke the side of his face as you look at him.

“You? Did something you’re not proud of?” he asks with surprise, his mouth forming a perfect O. You give him a wry smile.

“I stole from one of my former employers. A human. He was a real asshole, but I still feel guilty about it once in a while,” you admit.

“If you steal from a human, I guess that makes you a pirate!" he says lightly. "But if you say he was an asshole, I believe you. I don't think all humans are bad, but I've seen some terrible ones. And you put that money to good use, right?"

You nod, happy to hear that he has a more moderate view than some of the more radical fishmen here, especially the former slaves. “You better believe I did. I used it to buy medicine for my mother.” She died nonetheless, but not for lack of care from you or your father.

“Well, at least here you don’t need to steal. I’ll always take care of you.”

You nestle within his six-armed embrace as the two of you bask in the afternoon sun.

o0o0o0o

When you two have free time, you go swimming to a nearby reef to frolic and play for a while before you come to the surface to relax.

“You’ve been happy with me?’ Hatchan asks, holding your hands gently in a pair of his own, a second pair on your arms.

“You know I have,” you reassure him. “I really could not ask for anyone better.” You squeeze his hands. He is quiet for a couple of moments before he squeezes your hands back.

“I love you,” he finally says. You feel your heart swell, and your breath catches in your throat as you look up at him.

“I love you too, Hatchan,” you say, all too happy to reciprocate this statement and all that it implies. You do love him, but love is not discussed often among fishfolk as it seems to be among humans. You know some fishmen will disdain that word and the sentiments associated with it as a human weakness. But how can what you and Hatchan feel for one another be a weakness?

“Will you be my mate?” he asks. You do not have to think for even a moment before you make your reply.

“Yes. I would be incredibly honored to have you as my mate,” comes your heartfelt response. Six arms wrap around you before you’re swept off the ground.

He refuses to let go for a while, not that you mind. You wrap your arms around his shoulders as he snugly hooks his arms along your body so that you are nestled comfortably against his chest as you kiss and nuzzle his face while whispering praise and love to him. The waves crash at his feet, and the ocean breeze carries with it the scent of salt water and distant fires.

You're part of a community better than the Fish-Man District, or the one your parents raised you in. You have work that you enjoy, and your skills in mechanics and repair have earned you the respect of your superiors, including Arlong. You might not be a pirate, but the Saw respects you as a sister of his tribe. And now you have a mate, the best man in the whole world. Okay, maybe you're biased in your judgment of Hatchan against other men, but can you be blamed?

“You’re such a sweet, cuddly octopus man. How could I not love you?” you whisper as you nibble along his ear. He thrums in pleasure at this, his arms squeezing around you.

o0o0o0o

The last time you were at a reception celebrating the union between two people, you were among the servants, going around and serving appetizers and wine to the guests before cleaning up after the party. Your employer – the father of the bride – let you and the other fishmen servants take the leftovers home because he said he was in a generous mood.

He was the type of person who liked to brag about his generosity while being one of the most miserly humans you’d ever had the displeasure of meeting – let alone working for. He considered the food to be an adequate bonus for the late hours you and your coworkers had to work the party, and by the gods, there was plenty of work to do after the guests left. Just because fishfolk had greater stamina didn’t mean they couldn’t get tired, or feel unappreciated!

This time, there is no work for you to do. All you have to do is sit there with Hatchan and bask in the glow of praise and well-wishes as Arlong and the crew celebrate your union with the octopus fishman. The two of you are dressed in nice robes, making a lovely pair as you beam lovingly at one another, happiness written on your faces.

Between the people who had worked as cooks previously, or who got training from Hatchan, there were plenty of hands to make the delicious foods spread before you so that Hatchan didn't have to lift a finger either. Take and Shioyaki outdid themselves in organizing the festivities. So you have plenty of time to steal glances at one another and sigh happily, or hold hands, or one of you leaning against the other and giving a loving nuzzle.

Even the mighty Arlong the Saw looks less like a pirate captain and more like the longtime friend of Hatchan that he is as he sits there in his chair, laughing and offering a toast to the two of you.

There's music and dancing and laughing and games. It's a night you are certain to remember – and that means all of it. This includes the part where Hatchan picked you up and carried you away, holding you in all six of his arms while Arlong and others cheered and catcalled after the two of you.

Hatchan comes up with the idea to leave your robes on, or mostly on, when the two of you get intimate. The mirror reveals quite the sight, you in the nicest robe you’ve ever had in your life (As tight-fisted as he is, Arlong gave his longtime nakama a generous purse as a nuptial gift) and Hatchan is a handsome sight in a gorgeous robe tailored to his form.

“We almost look like royalty,” you laugh as you tilt your head, seeing the fine pins and comb in your hair glisten under the lamplight.

“You are my queen,” Hatchan insists softly as he nibbles along your ear.

“The queen is pleased," you tease back as you tilt your head to give him easier access. "In her little castle, with her wonderful octopus king," you add. He chuckles in agreement, and throughout the night, he'll lift your robe to give you a hickey, or grope you, or better yet, slide his fingers or cock inside of you.

The robes do come off eventually, but hey, Hatchan looks good to you regardless of what he’s wearing or isn’t.

o0o0o0o

One of the benefits of having a partner with six hands is that they can do your hair. Given your job, it's best to keep your hair out of the way so you are used to putting it in a ponytail or simple braids. Hatchan watches you do your hair one morning and asks if he can braid your hair. You're intrigued and give him your brush and hairbands.

You end up with two neat braids, plaited perfectly. It’s better than anything you’ve ever done, and he did it so damn fast. You look in the mirror with your mouth slightly agape at how fantastic it looks. So now you entrust the octopus man with your hair care (turns out he’s fantastic at washing your hair too!) and let Hatchan play with your hair in different styles, figuring out which ones you like best. Braid crowns, buns, cornrows, braids with four or even six plaits, the results are fascinating, and you can tell that Hatchan has a lot of fun with it.

Not only that, but you love the aspect of touching and care. It feels so good to have his fingers massage your scalp or run through your hair. Much as you enjoy mating with him, there’s something to be said about being groomed by someone who cares for you and the gentle, loving touches you get over a relatively simple ritual.

o0o0o0o

I’ve already introduced Shioyaki in the previous chapter, so y’all know who he is. For those who don’t know, Take is the Commander of Parties and is the pale Asian-looking fishman you see a few times in the anime. Yanno, Commander of Parties sounds like a pretty cool job.

[deepslowpanicfics]

♡ deepslowpanic Namgi Fics ♡

True North [ E | 11/11 | 117k ] long distance relationship | first meetings | road trip | solar eclipse | online relationship | falling in love | emotional hurt/comfort | anxiety and misunderstandings | communication | soft emo boys and music references

You're One in a Melon [ E | 20k ] big gay farm universe | online dating | awkward sexting and flirting | chance meetings | banter | it's nuts but so, so sweet | appreciation for namjoon's chest

All I want for Christmas is Ewe [ E | 14k ] big gay farm universe |christmas fluff | established relationship | horny gremlin yoongi | soft and sweet namjoon | fluff and love | relationship milestones

Some ASSembly Required [ E | 8k] strangers to lovers | 5+1 | ikea worker yoongi | helpless himbo namjoon | building and breaking furniture | awkward flirting | getting together | sexual tension | pining | silly situations | thighs

'Cause You Stop the Noise [ E | 7/7 | 70k] strangers to lovers | meet cute (sort of) | missed connections at an mcr concert | first dates | getting together | soft emo boys | shy namjoon and confident yoongi | music as a love language

Subliminally Yours [ E | 10k] friends to lovers | pining | music nerds | feelings realization | idiots in love | love confessions through song | music as a metaphor for love

Fine Art [ E | 6k ] friends to lovers | art gallery dates | 5+1 | pining and sexual innuendos | sexual tension | yoongi is a tease and namjoon is suffering | public sex

Helping Hand [ E | 7k ] friends to lovers | roommates | recreational drug use | watching porn together | it's not weird to jerk off with your friend | just bro things | pining | docking

You, In the Distance [ E | 3/3 | 32k ] exes to lovers | post break up | lonely namjoon | music producers | slow burn | misunderstandings | communication | sad boy hours x10 | getting back together | love confessions | yoongi is yoongi but also... there's a cat

You've Gotta Be Kitten Me [ E | 14k ] secret camboy yoongi | tattoo artist namjoon |awkward flirting | meet cute | teasing and flirting | namjoon is having a hard time | fluff and a little angst | getting together

Project Mismanagement [ E | 15k ] coworkers | one sided enemies to lovers | office pranks and shenanigans | sexual tension | yoongi is an hr nightmare | accidental nudes

Let Hyung Help [ E | 6k ] strangers to lovers | neighbors | 5+1 | hurt/comfort | yoongi is a good hyung | namjoon has a broken arm | getting to know each other | intimacy

Recipe for Disaster (or Love) [ T | 6.5k ] strangers to lovers | chef yoongi | rapper namjoon | kitchen disasters | minor injuries | soft boys falling in love | cooking lessons | food as a metaphor for love

Tangerine Hues [ E | 3k ] friends to lovers | getting together | sleepy confessions | touching and kissing | soft boys and vibes | sunsets and honey and love

Riptide [ E | 4/4 | 35k ] strangers to lovers | meet cute | aquarium | awkward flirting | confident yoongi is bad at feelings | hurt/comfort | lots of miscommunication | degradation kink and aftercare | they're both messes but they can make it work

Geometry [ E | 8.5k ] established relationship | misunderstandings | sexual experimentation | trying to spice things up | idiots in love | namgi try to 69 and it goes about how you'd expect

In the Soap [ E | 4k ] established relationship | emotional hurt/comfort | caretaking | bathtub sex | very soft and slippery

Meowments in Time [ E | 4k] established relationship | emotional hurt/comfort | thunderstorms | yoongi turns into a cat when he's scared | soft love

Greater Heights [ E | 9k ] friends to lovers | traveling together | sharing a bed | exploring a new city | accidental (?) cuddling | love confessions | getting together | idiots in love

Songs I can't believe I forgot [ E | 8.5k ] friends to lovers | roommates | music festival | soft punk boys | idiots in love | getting together | cold hands

The Feline is Meowtual [ E | 7k ] established relationship | horny monster namjoon | yoongi loses a bet | kitten play | collars and cat ears | breeding kink | rough sex

Hearts are Bound to Beat [ E | 3/3 | 35k ] soulmates | slow burn | overcoming loneliness | fluff and feelings | soft shy boys | falling in love and letting go

Louder Than An Orange Flame [ M | 15k ] hurt/comfort | convenience store | underground boxing | surreal imagery | soft and melancholy | namjoon just wants to help

[nagesh4567]

Armaf Futura La Femme fragrance for women

Product Description:-

In a general way, both women and men are now wearing a scent veritably seriatim, and an increasing demand are wearing one every day because it feels mighty! Wearing scent every day has numerous advantages. scent can make men and women feel seductive. Yes, numerous men enjoy the smell of Fragrance on a woman. It can be a great way to make a woman feel more seductive and confident, and it can be a seductive scent to a man. It can also indicate that the woman takes care of her appearance and is making trouble to smell nice. When it comes to determining whether a It's better than the original scent, it eventually depends on particular preference. Some people may prefer the original scent, while others may find that the Perfume is just as good or indeed better. It's important that spices aren't exact clones of the original scents. They're inspired by them and may have slight variations in scent or life. The quality of the constituents used in the Perfume may differ from those used in the original scent. The stylish way to determine whether a Fragrance is better than the original is to try it for yourself. general spices offer affordable options, so you can try many and see which bone you like stylish because It is only one and utmost flavours of general scent.

Fragrance Flavours & Products:-

It is also generally listed as incense or parfum, is a blend of synthetic constituents or essential canvases used in your skincare product.However, it has been added also to alter the smell of the product and generally represent the synthetic scent, If' scent/ incense' is listed in the constituents. Its canvases , also known as aroma canvases , sweet canvases , and flavour canvases , are amalgamated synthetic aroma composites or natural essential canvases that are adulterated with a carrier like propylene glycol, vegetable oil painting, or mineral oil painting. scent constituents are also generally used in other products, similar as soaps, shower gels, paring creams, and body poultices. Indeed some products labelled “ unscented ” may contain scent constituents.

Why is this fragrance Better than the other Fragrance?

Armaf Futura La Femme fragrance  is better than other scents because in this scent some notes are included, citrus fruity scent opens with opulent notes of Mandarin, Pink pepper and Rose, integrated with juicy heart notes of Apricot and Peach. The dry down fuses musk and vanilla. It's a liquid admixture used to emit an affable odour. It's formed from ambrosial essential canvases deduced from shops and spices or synthetic sweet composites. This scent is applied to a person's body to emit an affable smell including incense, cologne. In our diurnal life, It appears and a sense of smell plays an important part in the physiological goods of mood, stress, and working capacity. It's an unpredictable chemical element with a molecular weight of good Da that humans perceive via the olfactory system.

Conclusion:-

It is combining traditional scents with unique fruity notes to create a truly unforgettable perfume. Wear and enjoy summer’s bright, shimmering flavour all year long. This sparkling composition uplifts the mood with a sweet and crunchy aromatic motif. Enchanting floral rose and pink peony notes open the fragrance with romantic charm. Fresh tangerine drops illuminate powdery flowers. The sweet scent of peach and apricot brings a carefree atmosphere to the middle. A hint of milky vanilla sits on a musky base for a delicate yet sweet finish. Wear this beautiful perfume to inspire joy.

The main difference between these 5 Fragrances types is their fragrance oil concentration.

1)Perfume

2)Eau De Parfum

3)Eau De Toilette

4)Eau De Cologne

5)Eau Fraîche

Now take a look at each perfume type to fully understand their characteristics click on the link below.

[downtowncannibal]

What I think the Black Christmas cast all smells like/what kinda body wash they use:

This came to me when I was smelling my lotion lmao, bit odd but whatever, I love all the women of Black Christmas (plus Chris and Billy) Excuse smelling mistakes, I pulled this out of my ass last minute

CLARE HARRISON

Tangerine. That's all I have to say. At least when she was alive, Clare always preferred more fruity, pleasant smells that were easy on the nose. She's the type to light "Summer" candles during Halloween. She owns this rather expensive body wash package that came with lotion and a orange loofa, it's probably called something like "Blossom Tangerine Spring" Clare's willing to change it up unlike a lot of other people on this list, any sort of soft fruit smelling perfume or lotion will do. Clare smells fruity.

BARBARA COARD

Probably something that smells more woodish, or simple but alluring. I've mentioned this before, but I think Cinnamon is a particular scent she'd enjoy. She wouldn't get as proper as Clare with the matching lotion and such, but she's got a good $3 dollar store Cinnamon scented body wash she's pretty happy with and uses the hell out of. Since it's so cheap, the scent definitely fades a bit quicker, and in that case she begins to smell more of nicotine than the pleasant cinnamon, but thats okay, she showers pretty frequently. I also feel like she smells lightly of cologne, men's cologne, she chooses to wear it- but only a little spurt. Barb doesn't change up and isn't willing to try other scents, she likes cinnamon and she sticks with it- and if not cinnamon, just natural bar soap.

JESS BRADFORD

Jess isn't really particular with what she uses, it could be simple bar soap or the finest soap in all of Canada, she doesn't really care. If she were to choose, however, she would probably choose more Lavender scents, but like Clare, nothing too strong. All in all, Jess smells like dove soap, and it makes her skin so fucking soft.

PHYLLIS CARLSON

Billy says she smells like hippie, personally, I think she'd smell like tea with a mix of blueberries, a more- mystical, yet nature smelling perfume. Uses really nice smooth lotion, but cheap body wash. Doesn't really care what she smells like, just as long as it isn't bad.

CHRIS HAYDEN

Chris takes decent care of himself but prefers simple bar body wash and then applying a heavy amount of cologne. He's got no sort of body oder to cover, he uses that extra manly deodorant and shit like that, he just overestimates how much cologne he needs. The cologne isn't cheap, but it isn't too expensive either, probably about 30 bucks and isn't a name brand- but he doesn't really care, he's just looking to smell nice. When the cologne begins to fade is when it actually smells decent, it smells like exactly whatever comes to mind when you think of men's cologne. Old spice user. Also smells like a Christmas tree, oak smeller.

PETER SMYTHE

Trying to be serious for Peter and not just say "like shit." Because I fucking hate Peter. Anyways, Peter is like Jess- but the difference is he actually cannot afford to use more expensive soaps. Considering he lives in the conservatory and is a starving artist, I doubt he has money to waste on soap. Doesn't really use any lotions, just uses the cheapest body wash he can buy and he's done. It doesn't really bother him, he's more of a cologne kinda guy than a body wash sorta guy. If he uses cologne it's probably something Jess bought for him as a gift.

BILLY

Old, old cologne, dirt, and dust. Billy of course, being a attic dweller and likely home hopper, can't really afford to buy any sort of hygiene products. My personalization of Billy fucking hates being filthy, and tries to get showers whenever he can (he's not really a germophobe, but rather the concept of being filthy inside and out is something that disturbs him, and seeing dirt on his filthy skin can make him breakdown.) So that's why I say he doesn't smell like piss, but rather..oh? Cinnamon? Yup, he's stealing Barbs body wash, both out of spite and just because he likes the smell, he tells himself it's out of only spite though because "cinnamon is a unmanly scent"

LIEUTENANT FULLER

Another bar soap user, smells like- cop. Little bit of dust, little bit of gunpowder here and there, he doesn't really have any sort of signature scent, but does sometimes use vanilla hand lotion that's pretty strong, but definitely not bad smelling!

NASH

Old man (fr, old man, what your grandpas house smells like, you know the smell.)

[mawrrbid]

What I think One Piece characters smell like because I like sniffing fictional characters.

Straw Hats edition.

-

-

Luffy : Either grilled meat or ocean

Zoro : Sweat and blood/iron

Nami : Tangerine sented soap

Usopp : Gunpowder

Sanji : Cigarette and cologne (which is terrible for a cook), spices mix after he spent hours in the kitchen

Chopper : A mix of different plants, must be pretty strong and biter

Robin : Floral perfume but very light, probably black coffee too and book or freshly printed paper

Franky : Metal, he's a robot, also very strong sweet smell from where he stores his cola

Brook : Dust

Jinbei : Ocean, very salty

[vangoghmusings]

𝖆𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖆- 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍. 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛-𝚘𝚏-𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚕 𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚗, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚖 𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚜. 𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚊 𝚜𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗, 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖. 

♘ 𝖍𝖔𝖌𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖘 𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖘𝖊𝖘 ♘

𝔤𝔯𝔶𝔣𝔣𝔦𝔫𝔡𝔬𝔯- 𝚟𝚊𝚕𝚞𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚛𝚊��𝚎𝚛𝚢, 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚢

daichi sawamura ⤷ cinnamon, old leather, wet grass

yu nishinoya ⤷ oranges, hair gel, fruit snacks 

ryunosuke tanaka ⤷ old spice, warm blankets, new sneakers 

issei matsuwaka ⤷ wood shavings, cologne, ginger 

kentaro kyotani ⤷ tennis balls, burst rubber, lilcac 

kotaro bokuto ⤷ daisies, musk, vanilla cake 

atsumu miya ⤷ hair dye, axe spray, bed sheets 

yuji terushima ⤷ fall spices, wool, new car smell 

𝔯𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔴- 𝚟𝚊𝚕𝚞𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎, 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚕𝚎𝚍𝚐𝚎, 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚢, 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝

tetsuro kuroo ⤷ old paper, plants, organic deodorant 

hajime iwaizume ⤷ vanilla, flannel, lavender  

takanobu aone ⤷ mint, jasmine, rice 

keji akaashi ⤷ spring breeze, papaya, patchouli 

shinsuke kita ⤷ cotton, aloe, pine 

kiyoomi sakusa ⤷ disinfectant spray, lemon, strawberries 

𝔰𝔩𝔶𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔫- 𝚟𝚊𝚕𝚞𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚖𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙, 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏-𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚌𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚌𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜

tobio kageyama ⤷ spandex, blueberries, milk 

kei tsukishima ⤷ wheat, glue, sea salt 

toru oikawa ⤷ peppermint, cantaloupe, fleece

eita semi ⤷ oak, almonds, peach 

satori tendou ⤷ cactus, clove, bamboo 

𝔥𝔲𝔣𝔣𝔩𝔢𝔭𝔲𝔣𝔣- 𝚟𝚊𝚕𝚞𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔, 𝚍𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎, 𝚕𝚘𝚢𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚢, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢

koshi sugawara ⤷ marshmallow, cherry blossom, dryer sheets 

shoyo hinata ⤷ tangerines, clean laundry, lemongrass 

asahi azumane ⤷ green tea, fuzzy socks, hair mousse 

tadashi yamaguchi ⤷ banana, cedar wood, paint 

kenma kozume ⤷ plastic, hibiscus, hand soap 

lev haiba ⤷ champagne, expensive handbags, snow 

wakatoshi ushijima ⤷ honeysuckle, black coffee, amber 

tsutomu goshiki ⤷ cucumber, pink salt, anise 

osamo miya ⤷ onigiri, blood orange, gold metal 

a/n: hello!! i made this because i was inspired by my tik tok fyp being solely harry potter content thus, i have spiraled back into my harry potter phase HARD. soo, i sorted the boys into houses and i wrote out what i think their amortentia would smell like. i did this based off my opinions and my own harry potter knowledge, so if you disagree...idc man im a slytherin. n e ways, here ya go <3

tagging the homies: @mixfi @melanimed @lunabby010 @iiminibattlehero @bnhainthewoo @strawberry-ice @johariameil @ecao @denkisdurag @v-vyai @mintmatcha​ @sadkaashistan​ @nishiikun​ @mypimpademia​ @katsuswifeyy​ @myhoodacademia​ @yamagucciii​ @inferrrno000​ @mythiccheroacademia​ 

[shy-violet-soul]

The Things We Don’t Ask For

Summary: I’ve lived my life standing on my own two feet. It doesn’t occur to me to ask for anything. But, just because I carry it well doesn’t mean my burdens aren’t heavy.

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Warnings: a wee bit of angst, a whole lot of fluff

Word count: 2,000 ish

A/N: this is pure selfish daydreaming. Introvert that I am, I miss hugs and casual affectionate touches during this time of keeping my dear ones safe. This one goes out to all of us who fight the good fight every day, all on our own.

A/N 2: A very huge and very appreciative thank you hugs to the amazing @thesassywallflower for beta-ing this for me. Your feedback is so valued! Also, I’m experimenting with a different writing style inspired by the incredible @nacho-bucky . Thank you for giving this a read, and for sharing your art with us.

This is a work of fiction. Please do not copy my work without my written consent.

Original pic credit to owner. Very bad editing by me due to boredom.

I’m tired.

My body sinks like a broken anchor. My joints sit heavy, fatigue tiding into my limbs in mild aches. I feel the waves only distantly, the strain a susurrus I’m used to. When my brain is busy, navigating the gyres and currents of my day, I don’t notice it. But now, with idleness sudden and loud in my head, I feel every creak as I settle into the depths of a ridiculously comfortable sofa.

[[More]]

Comforting sounds of putzing from the kitchen snap me back from tempting, drowsy depths. The friendly click click click of claws on the floor tug a smile free as a happy black snout plops on my leg.

“Hey, there, Bobby!” The pup’s silky black ears are magic, siphoning stress right out of my fingertips as I happily scritch and stroke. My smile swells wider as the goodest good boy groans before he leaps up next to me. Canine kisses catch me chin to cheek, loosing giggles from me as I turn only enough to keep the black Cocker Spaniel from licking my mouth or eyeball.

“Oh, my Lord! Bobby, leave that poor girl alone!” Warmth waves into my chest in the wake of that deep voice, and Bobby laps half in my nose because I’m following my smile up, up into his blue eyes. The freedom I give myself now to dive deep into his gaze still nearly takes my breath.

Settled comfortably in a leather chair, a cup of chai steamed cheer in spice-scented whisps at my elbow as I organized my work. Pattern and pink highlighter on the table, I let the in-progress baby blanket cascade in velvet folds under my hands. Dangling earbud cords hung an invisible ‘do not disturb’ sign. The magpie chatter of my Monday through Friday left me wrung out and empty of words by week’s end, and the only conversation I often felt up to was my chai order and a passing smile. I craved the silent slide of needles and yarn, letting them disconnect my brain so I could refill my words.

Sunshine lighting the work in my lap, I snuggled happily into the cracked leather and let the clatter and whistle fade behind the soothing cello notes of my Piano Guys station. Stitches whiled away a half hour before movement caught the corner of my eye. Without looking up, I spied dark navy jeans and men’s black boots. Just above, long fingered hands cradled a leather-bound notebook, a paperback, and a steaming mug. With a quick glance, I watched him look about the seating area. I recognized the downcast eyes and tucked-in chin of a fellow chit chat dodger. Unwilling to invite conversation but empathetic to his plight, I shifted my cup-and-saucered treat to the side and slid my pattern beside me. Silent permission to sit in peace. Leather toes pointed my way, paused, then tucked themselves beneath the table. Another steaming cup joined mine, and I heard the squeak of leather over the piano in my ears as he accepted the comfort of my corner.

Studiously avoiding his gaze and clinging to my quiet, I kept on. An hour and three more carefully knitted rows later, I rolled my head around and back, cracking the tiny joints before I held the work up in front of me. Fuschia, tangerine, and blush wove together into a lacy blanket, perfect for my neighbor’s baby girl due in a few months. Plenty of time to finish the half-done work. My pride still crinkling my eyes, I scooted the work safely away from the needle ends and paused in mid-reach for my long-cold chai.

My corner mate sat transfixed, chin resting on his hand as his book and notebook sat ignored in his lap. When he caught my glance, he straightened up and smiled. The brilliance of his blue eyes set me blinking, like I’d looked up at the bright summer sky after too many dim hours indoors. He gestured towards the blanket and I obligingly pulled my earbuds free, a fleeting lance of recognition prodding at me as he sat forward.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but this is quite stunning. Did you do all that yourself?”

“Thank you. I did.”

As if he couldn’t stop himself, he gingerly fingered the end of the blanket. “My word, that is soft. I had no idea they made yarn like this. Is this to be a blanket?”

“Yes, a baby blanket. It’s velvet yarn. I didn’t know they made it, either, I found it by accident.”

“A baby blanket? Am I to offer you congratulations?”

“No, it’s for my neighbor. She and her husband and daughter are expecting a baby girl.”

He introduced himself a few moments later, and I let him think I didn’t know who he was. Before I knew it, an hour went by, then two. Never once did I scrooge over my lost quiet, because it never felt lost. Instead, I found myself seen like I’d never been before. Something butterflied in my belly at a man’s undivided attention. New, alien, I ignored it as I treated him with friendliness, courtesy.

I figured Master Thomas Hiddleston got precious little of the last.

A chance chat turned into a hoped-for encounter as Tom adorably lurked about the coffee shop, fingers crossed for my return the next Saturday. Lunch, a few dinners, and a host of text messages later, and I bemusedly refused the idea that this man was dating me.

And yet, weeks later, I’m sitting on his couch. As he breezes a kiss to me, my lips tingle and the same butterflies swirl up in my belly. He places a tray on the coffee table, urging Bobby to settle as he hunts the remote. My gaze lands on the tray, and my buoyed spirit bobbles.

Cheerfully stacked planks of vanilla, strawberry, and chocolate wafer cookies, and I can already taste the sugared crumbs of my favorite treat on my fingers. Rose and cardamom brume curling above a cup unveil my favorite tea, from a shop over 2 hours away. Fragments of conversation that I had innocently tossed, casual detritus on a course I didn’t know he charted.

“Alright now, darling, I found that film you mentioned. The one with Emma Samms and Denis Lawson. I’d no idea he was in this film. I remember watching ‘Bleak House’ on BBC, I thought his performance…” As he lifts a DVD case aloft, his words become a distant, burbled fog. I sharply swallow down the sudden wind wave of tears at the repeated realization I still cannot grasp.

He sees me.

I’ve built my life without a lighthouse. Journeyed contentedly under the steam of an unheard sonar, the pings of a heartbeat happy on its own. My compass crafted carefully, each tear-salt rusted edge a hard-won victory over a map blanked by friendly coupled flocks. I waved them off, bittersweet when unanswered amid their own journeys. Never seen. Never bothered. Never asking.

But he sees me.

The truth of it all at once overwhelms and undercuts me. Swelling, then sinking, I feel as if my broken-anchor body cracks, sloughing off coats of salty red as oxygen leaves me. Faintly, Tom’s voice distinguishes back into words as I secretly flounder before him.

“...found it on some obscure website aptly called ‘eCrater’. I’ll have to return to it and see what other titles they may have in...love, are you alright?”

Two sets of puppy dog eyes regard me now, and the warmth of his hand on mine cuts loose a sob. Horror chases after it, and I dive to hide in my lap. So used to being unseen, the suddenness of the tender focus spotlighting me has me cold and quaking.

Even as I sink, though, a mooring. His bulk steadies before me as he kneels. His warmth settles about me as he wraps me up in strength, unfamiliar in the lending. A hundred hushed comforts croon into my ears, and every attempt I make to seize onto some control slips away with each endearment.

“Oh, darling! Love, what’s wrong? Has something happened? It’s alright, it’s okay, I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

Exhausted, enraptured, I let myself drift. The scent of his soap zephyrs through me, the drag of his long fingers against my scalp a drug I drag in deep and greedily. So blissfully, brokenly free am I in that moment, I don’t resist when his warm hands urge my salt-fogged gaze up to his.

“What is it? What can I do?” he implores.

The words cast off before I can stop them.

“You’re so nice.”

Confusion crinkles a line between his brows as he strokes my hair behind my ear.

“This a problem? My being nice?”

A watery chuckle croaks from me. How to make him understand? Fear of looking pathetic closes my throat with anxiety, but when he presses a kiss to my forehead, the warmth of it shuts my eyes. His clear affection for me - me - tides through and through, and the hungerings I’ve hidden for a lifetime are helpless but to rise and meet him. Fear and freedom tremble in my fingers as I raise them to trace his brow, his cheek, settling hesitant against his jaw.

“No, not a problem. I’m just...not used to being remembered.”

His concerned gaze softens now, the heaviness of worry lightening.

“My darling girl. You’d best become accustomed to me remembering you.” Caring strokes right through me from his fingertips along my face, and dizzying heat pours in from his kiss on mine. Fresh tears sting salty beneath my eyes as I feel his heart beat beneath my hands. The giddying swirls in my belly from the slight drag of his lips against me, the clutch of his arms in my esurient hands. This receiving, this giving, this freedom is a siren call I’ve never dreamed of.

“Now - we are going - to enjoy this film,” Tom starts, kisses dashing his words and dotting my face. “We are going - to drink - our tea, you are going to devour the biscuits, and I,” and his voice drowns me in its sudden depth, “may just devour you.”

The dizzy butterflies unleash a delirious giggle from my middle. The rasp of his calloused thumbs sweeping away my tears brings on a fresh wave. But they sparkle in the trying sunshine of my smile.

Tom growls playfully under my chin before moving to get the movie started, then groans when he turns back to see Bobby has taken his spot beside me. Puppy whimpers and gentle scolds filter in with the opening sequence of a 90s British whodunit story, tugging my smile wider. As Tom settles in beside me, shyness struggles amid the butterflies.

“Can we snuggle?” I whisper the request, my newfound surety soft as sand, but still solid enough to hold me. Tom answers me with outstretched arms and a smile bright enough to turn the tide. I dive in, nestle down, clasp him close.

Unseen, I feel his smile against my forehead. Unbothered, the movements of him shifting us to lay down hardly register. Unasking, we luxuriate in the quiet affection of soft touches and contented sighs.

And my broken-anchor body drifts away.

[webcricket]

Thursday’s Child

Pairing: CastielXReader Word Count: 2759 (Pt. 1) Summary: Part 1 of 5 - You met Castiel during his stint at being human and knew him as Steve, a sweet, albeit mysterious, man working at the local Gas-N-Sip with sad blue eyes that seemed to light up in your presence. That was eight years ago; now the daughter he fathered during your brief time together - the girl he doesn’t know about because he stole from your bed without a word and slipped out of your life before you knew you were pregnant - is asking for him. You realize, for her sake, it’s time to face the painful truth in order to find him. A/N - Part 1 is an angsty intro to the reader, the next part brings us up to speed on where Cas is at ...

Pt. 1

You walked into the Gas-N-Sip onto a scene a match stick strike short of complete chaos. Beyond the sea of customers waiting at the counter, the grumbled volume of their impatience rising like a storm’s tide breaking on a rocky shore, you saw not the blue-eyed sales associate you sought for, but the ragged figure of the manager, Nora, as she slammed her fist against the side of the cash register to compel its cooperation.

The machine spat its contents out in a metallic ding barely audible above the thunder of discontent. Nora flung a handful of crumpled bills at the gaping man stood before her and waved him toward the door with his uncapped cup of cold coffee without a word regarding well wishes for the goodness of the day.

The frazzled blonde jabbed a finger at her temple, peered blankly over the counter, and muttered, “Can I help whose next?” in a manner that made whomsoever was next dither in presenting themselves for customer service slaughter, and two people leave without getting the gasoline they came for - one of whom had trudged there on foot through the snow uphill in a pair of threadbare tangerine Converse after their car ran out of juice three miles down the road.

As the sea swelled in murmured confusion over who was next, you dove into the crush of shoulders and shoved a path through to the front.

Pressed into the counter, you jostled a carousel display of novelty keychains, the inconvenient disturbance of which, more than your voice, caught Nora’s strained attention. “Nora!” you panted. Caging the scattering of metal rings within your elbows to prevent their clattering to the floor, you ignored the nicotine-husked scolding of a wrinkled weather-worn woman sounding in your ear about cutting the line.

“Y/N?” A flicker of hope lightened Nora’s craggy sleep-deprived aspect at the sight of you. “Have you seen Steve?” Clutching at your wrist, she asked the desperate-toned question before you could, unknowingly answering yours in its sameness. “He hasn’t been in for two days. No call out. Nothing. That’s not like him.”

Cheeks paling, you agreed – conscientious to a fault, it wasn’t like him at all to just disappear.

The sickly sense of suspicion festering in your stomach during the last forty-eight hours that began upon waking to empty sheets and fattened itself not on food, because you’d barely eaten under the barrage of worried emotions, but rather fed on a gluttony of unreturned calls and texts, shuddered and flipped with enough weight to unsteady your feet; wrist yanked from her grip, you flattened your palm to the front of your jeans as an awareness of imminent ill shot sour bile up your gullet.

You shook your head; taking a second, you choked back the throat-searing fluid and fortified your dizzied balance against the confirmation he had indeed gone without a trace. “N-no, I haven’t-” you sputtered- “I-I was hoping-”

Cutting you off, unable to hear anything beyond the unhelpful news of your weakly uttered ‘No,’ frustration rutted her sweat-beaded forehead. “Well when you do see him, tell him he’s fired. He left me in the middle of a mess of inventory and I haven’t had anyone to open. For fuck’s sake, it’s the holidays! I’m in a real lurch here.” Wheezing to reach for the final bit of breath required to bellow out her contained fury, she gestured at the crowd and flashed the one or two nearest folks shocked by her expletive outburst a conciliatory service industry contrived smile.

“If-if you see him-” you attempted to request the returned favor through the burst levy of her rage as the woman spewing insults about your impudence wedged between you and the counter to demand immediate attention. Funneled in defeat to the center of the store, you broke for the bathroom before the wet brim of heartache flooded your lashes and a renewed heave of nausea hollowed your belly of its fill of woe.

<<<>>> 

“Mama?” The girl outfitted in pastel blue and magenta feather-bedecked fleece footie pajamas curled on the bed beside you stirred sleepily in the crook of your arm; the friction of her minute movements and dry forced heat air of winter combined sparked a static shock where the soft warmth of her bare fingers brushed your own calloused cooler ones.

“Yeah, honeybee?” Swiveling your concentration from the pages of the storybook held above the both of you, you closed the pages and sniffed your reply ticklishly into the freshly washed soap-smell of your daughter’s scalp – the scent of her a welcome haven from the heady aromas clinging to you of yeasted bread, warmed spice, and browned sugar that otherwise denoted a hectic day spent toiling in the bakery and sweet shop you operated below the small apartment.

She squirmed and giggled beneath your unrelenting Eskimo kisses until, fidgeting sideways to evade and escape, she squealed mid-laugh a query so completely unrelated to the book you’d been reading aloud minutes before it took you aback. “Where’s daddy?”

Her innocent and wholly natural curiosity stilled your showering of affection, seized at the center of your chest to steal your breath, and skipped your heart a few agonizing beats, but only a few; you’d grown emotionally numb over many years to the hurt of not knowing what happened with her father, of trying to reconcile your questions with a lack of answers in order to figure out what you did wrong, if anything, to warrant Steve’s disappearance from your life – and his own - without a goodbye, a warning, or so much as an inkling of a reason.

Although you tried and mostly succeeded in tidily boxing up the train wreck aftermath of emotion in your brain, he remained nonetheless an enigma forever in front of you because she was his; she wore his smile, albeit a bit easier and more often than he did; she saw the world through that same shade of inwardly illuminated blue, giving everyone she gazed upon the benefit of the doubt; she treated everything she touched, too, with a kindness, carefulness, and consideration so like him.

He endured even in his absence as an end without an end - the only proofs of the brief love-swept spell of him having been in your life a blunted memory stonewashed by time to dull the jagged edge of loss in believing he was the best thing to ever happen to you, and the life he sparked in your womb, a little girl who turned out to be what he wasn’t – the love of your life.

Yet despite the distance of years and the layers of a life well-lived laid on top of past pain, and like the first time you met him, every once in a while, when you least expected it, in moments when you were most relaxed, his recollection had a way of taking you by surprise such that you forgot how to breathe.

Her inquisitiveness, however, did not; she asked after him on occasion, especially now that she was in school and of an age to notice and wonder at the differences between her family and those of her classmates.

“Max has two daddies.”

Her observation, spoken in an airy awe punctuated by a yawn, penetrated your reverie into the past.

“That so?” Shifting up onto an elbow to better study the seriousness scrunching up her nose, you smoothed her disheveled hair into a chestnut halo of bouncy ringlets encircling her head on the polka dot patterned pillowcase; your fingertips fondly followed a wild whorl rebelling above her ear.

“Mm-hmm,” she drowsily drew out the noise, blinking heavily-lashed eyes that danced over the neon glow of star stickers arranged in constellations on the ceiling. With a mumbled, “and a dog, too” -she tossed the blanket, burrowed face-first into the pillow, and fell soundly asleep.

Staying absolutely motionless, you praised in grateful silence the sudden seizure of slumber children are wont to succumb to for temporarily relieving you from an explanation; whatever she dreamed of would be better than the reality of not knowing you had to offer.

You slipped from the bed and into the hallway, flicking lights off as you walked the worn oriental carpet runner to your bedroom, and found yourself standing in front of the closet digging for a shoebox stuffed in the topmost corner behind a stack of spare sheets.

Extricating the box with a grunt, you sunk to the floor, pushed off the lid, and dumped the contents, those few physical scraps you possessed of Steve - notes, snapshots, and the crumbling petals of a pressed red rose he left behind besides the scars on your heart and her - into your lap.

Last season, perched on Santa’s lap at the mall, your daughter told the falsely bearded jolly supplier of holiday spirit and maker of childhood magic she wanted him to bring her daddy home for Christmas. The pitying frowns donned by Saint Nick and his helper elf upon hearing her request haunted you for weeks afterward. The bright pink bike you bought to place under the tree as her big gift that year seemed a paltry substitute for what she really longed for.

It also prompted you to hire a private investigator to track Steve down. You hadn’t looked for him before then – you’d gotten on just fine without him; but it was becoming clear she needed to know him, if not as the father figure she idealized, at least as a means for both of you to get some kind of closure.

Part of you supposed regardless of why he left he should know he had a daughter and it was unfair - however unfairly he’d treated you - to keep her to yourself when you’d created her together. Whether he wanted to be a part of her life once he knew he’d not only deserted you, but left you knocked up, heartbroken, jobless, and in deep debt holding a newly minted mortgage for a building in need of major renovations before you could bake up that first batch of blueberry scones and realize a long-imagined dream – a dream he inspired you to pursue - would be entirely up to him.

Maybe you’d hesitated to look for so long because you felt he would want to be in your lives out of a sense of obligation rather than any emotive attachment of fatherly feeling; whatever had happened, the Steve you loved was a good man – dutiful of responsibilities to a fault. But Steve chose to leave and you wondered if he’d feel more trapped than anything if he knew there was a child; that he would be there like a hare snagged in a hunter’s snare awaiting fate, but that he wouldn’t want to be there.

In terms of fairness, that consequence wouldn’t be fair to any of you.

You eyed the sealed legal-sized manila envelope folded in half and jammed in the bottom of the emptied box. The part of you that preferred not knowing and defaulted to pigeonholing pain instead of dealing with it stuck it in there a month ago when the backlogged and grandfatherly private investigator working for literal beans of the brewed coffee variety and a weekly doughnut delivery as a personal favor to you got around to handing his findings over along with the kindly-intended counsel that he’d uncovered enough of the big picture to deem the case concluded, and it was up to you to decide whether it was worth hunting the guy down for a face-to-face to fill in the remainder of the damnable details.

Tucking the document into your outstretched hand – the fingers suffering from a nervy tremble no amount of suppressive will would quiet - he strongly cautioned against the latter pursuit of an in person meet up on the basis of having had decades of not so positive experience with quote unquote, “This same sort of dead beat dodging child support.”

Bolstering your resolve to learn the truth with a lungful of air, you slid a finger into the glue affixed gap of the envelope; the flap sliced your flesh as you tore into the paper. Soothing the slash against the warmth of your tongue, you slipped free the sheets within and rotated the cover page to scan the paragraph typed thereon – it comprised a summary of the steps the investigator took, contained a list of contacts in South Dakota and Kansas – potential current states of residence based on credit card activity - should you want to trail him further, and provided a social security number along with a name in bold uppercase print: JIMMY NOVAK.

A noose of nerves cinched tightly at your throat. The last thing you expected was an outright lie.

Steve … no, Jimmy, he carried a sadness in the slouch of his shoulders, a something secretive that distanced his gaze sometimes; he told you he lost everything - his family, his home - that he started over with nothing save the two feet he landed on to build a foundation. You believed him, respected his fortitude to move forward, and loved him enough not to push him to talk about a past obviously painful to him until he was ready.

You never dreamed what he meant to say was everything you knew of him, everything he shared, was a fabrication built not to move on from the truth, but to hide it from you.

The whoosh of your pulse pounded in your ears; vision tunneled, the panicked pump of racing blood blackened the periphery of the white sheet when you turned to the next page.

Written there was the fact Jimmy had another family; had a daughter – Claire. He left them, too. He hadn’t lost his family and home, he ran out on them just like he ran out on you.

“Mama?” Dainty fingers tapped at the damp shine of your cheek; she crept in so quietly you hadn’t heard the tip-toe tread of her bare feet on the carpet. “Mama?” she said it again, a broken whisper verging on a sob, and tangled her limbs around your neck.

You shoved the papers off your crossed legs and pulled the ball of her body into your embrace. “What’s wrong, baby bee?” Blinking to staunch the sting of your tears, your piqued emotion surrendered to a roused motherly alarm as you folded the mess of her sweat-matted hair to your bosom where she could hear the reassuring thump-thump housed within.

“I had a bad dream,” she murmured and fisted the fabric of your robe.

Me, too, you thought, and snuggled her in tighter.

Glancing at the discarded report amid the box’s other trinkets, your bleary gaze landed on a glossy polaroid photo of you and Steve snapped at a holiday party you goaded him into attending with you when your original plus one ditched you at the last minute so you wouldn’t have to face alone a roomful of tipsy marketing execs you loathed.

That night, that moment, his fingers flirting hesitatingly at your waist, touches giving in to the pull of gravity as the night wore on to graze then hug your hips as if they belonged there - had always been there - a confidant and comfort tenderly testing the territory of more - you naïvely yielding like pliant putty to his touch - that was the point of no return; through the retrospective filter of the truth it became clear he seemed too good to be true, because nothing about him was true.

Part of you wished you could reseal the envelope and the truth with it and return to the comparative bliss of not knowing. Mostly you seethed, an unprocessed anger relegated to the back-burner ignited, inflaming mind and muscle until your entire frame radiated a heat of rage.

The girl quaking in your grasp, bend of her spine shivering as you skimmed it in soothing caresses, reminded you some nightmares do evolve to have happy endings; no matter what happened, or what would happen, you had her and he couldn’t take that away from you.

Wiping her fear and tear flushed features into your pajamas, she gasped a desire that plunged daggers through your heart. “I want my daddy.”

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” you spoke in a whisper to shush her whimpers and calm the heated tempest of your nerves.

She went limp wrapped in the safety of your words and arms; you’d do anything for her, including suffer pain and swallow your pride to dredge up a monster from the past. You only prayed he wouldn’t hurt her, too.

Castiel tag list:  (Closed, if you’d like to be removed please let me know!)    @jeepangel​  @sammiesamness​  @willowing-love​  @blueicevalkyrie​   @im-the-nerdiest-of-them-a11​  @thesugargalaxy​   @bluetina-blog  @dont-trust-humanity @honeybeetrash​  @bucky-thorin-winchester​  @superwholockz​   @tistai  @wordstothewisereaders​  @gill-ons​  @mrswhozeewhatsis​  @marisayouass​  @stone-met​   @castiel-savvy18​  @samualmortgrim  @trexrambling  @magnificent-mantle  @xdifsx  @mandilion76  @rockfairy  @peaceloveancolor​  @unicorntrooper  @anisolatedship  @itsilvermorny  @aditimukul  @kudosia  @goofynerd-67babylove​  @uninspirationalsonglyrics​  @gray-avidan​  @mishascupcake​   @mishapanicmeow​   @praisecastielamen​  @roseyhxnt  @jessikared97  @let-the-imaginationflow  @warriorqueen1991   @sebastianstanslefteyebrow   @hisnameisboobear  @kristendanwayne  @fuschiarulerinthebluebox  @coolpencilpie  @jenabean75​ @luciathewinchestergirl​  @morganas-pendragons​  @heyitscam99  @fangirl-and-stuff  @selahbela  @realgreglestrade  @splendidcas  @pointlesscasey  @i-larb-spooderman​  @thewhiterabbit42​  @thelostverse​  @castieliswatchingoverme​  @beccollie18  @dragonett8  @dixie-chick  @jtownraindancer​   @carowinsthings​  @passionghost  @ladyofletters67​ @futureparent​  @gabbie7-11​  @myfandomlife-blog  @dreamerkim  @samael-has-arrived  @shamelesslydean  @earthtokace​  @neaeri  @justanormalangel​  @lone-loba​  @supernaturalymarvel​  @lilrubixx​  @wings-and-halo​  @lilulo-12​  @x-cassiopeia​ @thehoneybeecastielfollows​  @musiclovinchic93​  @81mysteriouslyme​  @the-bottom-of-the-abyss​  @jaylarkson​  @missjenniferb​  @ayamenimthiriel  @supervengerslock  @jessiekay2010​

[feralfawns]

who am i??? what am i??? what are traits that are wholly mine that didn’t get passed onto me from somebody else??

i am optimistic. i always take something good from every situation, even if it is just a lesson or a feeling in my gut that i will grow and learn from it. i am flexible. i change and adapt easily without being upset by it. i care about people. i care about strangers, i care about people i don’t relate to, i have empathy for and want the best for everyone around me, whether they “deserve” it or not. i am spiritual. i am an infinite creature experiencing a human life for a reason. this life is to teach me something, and so i will let myself be taught.

i love the forest. the darkness of it and the scents that come from it feel like home. i love art, especially contemporary art. i believe that magick exists and that we are all inherently magickal. ocean air makes me sleepy. my favorite scents are myrrh, frankincense, fresh balsam, and anything fall related. i love dandelions. i am scared of many things. deer and skunk are my favorite animals. my favorite colors are tangerine orange, dark green, and shades of brown. i don’t like fizzy drinks. my favorite tea is irish breakfast with milk, sugar, and exactly 6 shakes of pumpkin pie spice. i will never wear shorts or sandals. my favorite season is spring. my touch is light and gentle. i have been told i smell like goat soap and fresh, clean cheesecloth. i don’t think i am really an empath, not anymore. i want to major in textiles / fiber arts. i am a cat person. i love necklaces, i wear many of them. my hair is my pride and joy. i am unsure if i like myself anymore. i am learning.

[jumukus]

A3! Event: Harugaoka Quartet Chapter 5 Translation

Everyone is Spring Troupe is getting more curious about Citron’s problem with Tangerine, but they don’t dare to ask the person himself.

Masumi: So you pour the dish soap onto the sponge and wash it like this.

Tangerine: I see.

Chikage: What are you doing?

Sakuya: Masumi is teaching Prince Tangerine how to wash the dishes!

Chikage: Heh, that’s rare. Anyway, I didn’t know that Masumi could help with the house chores.

Itaru: He usually skips it, so we also had no idea no idea.

Tsuzuru: Do the house chores if you can do them.

Izumi: Well well, I think this is a great progress to have him teach Prince Tangerine like this!

Itaru: Exactly. If this were the old Masumi, he wouldn’t have taught him.

Sakuya: For some reason, watching them makes me happy.

Chikage: It’s a parental love.

Masumi: ...You all are being so fussy that it makes me sick.

Izumi: (Prince Tangerine looks like he’s enjoying himself. I’m glad I count on Masumi-kun to look after him.)

Izumi: All right, then. I shall tidy up here next.

Citron: I can help——.

Tangerine: I’ll help wash the dishes!

Izumi: You will, Prince Tangerine?

Tangerine: I can wash the dishes now!

Citron: ….

Izumi: You were practicing with Masumi-kun just now, huh. Okay, I’ll ask you to do it.

Tangerine: Leave it to me!

Izumi: (Prince Tangerine is in high spirits, huh. Maybe he wants to show Citron-kun the result of his practice.)

Tangerine: Whoaah——.

Izumi: Watch out——!

Tangerine: ——uh.

Izumi: Are you okay?

Tangerine: I’m sotty for breaking the plates.

Izumi: It’s fine. Are you hurt?

Citron: ….

Tangerine: «Ah, onii-sama...»

…..

Izumi: (Uh, uh, his determination bares no effect…)

Tangerine: ….I really am useless, huh.

Izumi: Cheer up, Prince Tangerine. Everything will be fine if you do it calmly.

(But still, Citron-kun is indeed acting a little bit strange.)

(If it were the usual Citron-kun, he would cheer him up. But he just left without saying anything…)

Masumi: “I’m the first violin, Youta Mukai. I’m in first year.”

Citron: “The first year is the first violin?”

Tsuzuru: “He came on top among the first years during enrollment, in addition to having promising future.”

Sakuya: “Uhh, I’m in charge of the cello, Yuu Yoneda. I’m in the same year as Youta.”

“Uh, I love Saionji-san’s performance! I went to listen to your performance at the final selection for the competition——.”

Citron: “I’ll be the first violin.”

Sakuya: “Huh?”

Citron: “That’s obvious, right? It’s only appropriate for me to be taking the role, and I don’t have any motivation in taking charge of other things beside the first violin.”

Izumi: (Citron-kun’s Japanese has gotten really good. It doesn’t sound strange anymore.)

(When the language barrier disappears, his acting has improved steadily. He can even express this character’s aloof and arrogant personality really well.)

(While the practice is going more than well, my only concern is Citron-kun’s current state with Prince Tangerine…)

——All right, that’s all for today.

Citron: Great work.

Chikage: Good job.

Izumi: (Everyone must have been curious about the things with Prince Tangerine too, but…)

(Citron-kun is acting like usual outside of that issue, so we can’t bring ourselves to ask it.)

(We can only see how it goes for a little bit more.)

All right then, we shall use the remaining time to practice playing your own instruments.

Tsuzuru: Okay.

Masumi: Got it.

Itaru: Good luck~.

Masumi: ….

Citron: Clap clap.

You’ve gotten good, Masumi.

If you put less power on the hand that’s holding the boy, it’ll be more——.

Masumi: I didn’t ask for your help, Citron.

Citron: Oh, do you believe that one shall not send miso to their enemies*?

Masumi: It’s “salt.”

You’re my rival in violin. Besides, I already have Tangerine teach me, so there’s no need.

Citron: ….

Masumi: You——.

It’s nothing.

Citron: …..Masumi, are you not going to ask anything?

Masumi: Annoying. I’ll ask if you really want me to.

Citron: Oh, you’re as coorl as usual, Masumi.

Masumi: It’s “cool.”

Citron: That’s it. Well then, I shall titan** so that I won’t catch a cold.

Masumi: It’s “retreat.”

….

Chikage: Hm, it smells good.

Izumi: It’s the smell of spice, huh.

Mika:  «I’m thinking of cooking you a Zahra’s dish as a thank you for looking after us.»

Chikage: «Heh, I’m looking forward to tasting it.»

He says he’s cooking Zahra food.

Izumi: Whoah, I’m looking forward to that!

Chikage:  «I’ll help out, too. I’m a bit interested on what kind of spice you use.»

Mika: «Thank you. Now that we’re at it, let’s try using various kinds of spices that have been sent here.»

Izumi: I’m interested in the smell of the spice, but I can’t join their conversation….

Sakuya: Chikage-san, you’ve become more fluent in speaking Zahran.

Itaru: He’s too powerful.

Chikage:  «So you use this spice for this kind of cooking.»

Mika:  «Because it has a rather quirky flavor, you have to be careful when combining it with other ingredients.»

Chikage:  «Heh, I’ll take note.»

Mika: ….

Chikage:  «By the way, is there something happening in Zahra?»

Mika: ——.

«….Tangerine-sama has always been raised in a carefree environment unrelated to the battle for the throne since he was a child.»

«But as soon as he became crowned prince, all of the art of kingscraft has been hammered into his head without any exception.»

«In order to become a king, he has to learn every bit of knowledge and behavior in a rapid manner.»

«It’s not strange to know that he’s crushed by the heavy responsibility he had——.»

«Prince Tangerine really worked hard in order to live up to his beloved Citronia-sama’s expectation.»

Chikage: ….

Mika: «However, the people who know how perfect Citronia-sama was in the past are comparing Tangerine-sama to Citronia-sama.»

«Even during the preparation for the conferment ceremony, he’s always conscious about the fact that Citronia-sama was able to perform his first duty splendidly.»

«For Tangerine-sama who knows the most about Citronia-sama’s perfection, he’s getting anxious because he can’t catch up.»

«And I think he has reached his limit. I wonder if he came this far on impulse because he wanted to be pampered by his beloved Citronia-sama.»

Chikage: «...So why is Citron being so cold to Prince Tangerine?»

Mika:  «Perhaps Tangerine-sama’s spoiled act is something that will not be forgiven by Citronia-sama, who had learned the art of kingscraft since he was young.»

Chikage:  «...I wonder about that.»

Mika:  «Huh?»

Chikage:  «Even though I haven’t been spending time with him that much, I know Citron is a caring person.»

«Citron is the kind of person who will forgive people’s weakness and mistakes.»

«I don’t think he will push away his “family” without any reason like that.»

Mika: ——.

t/n: *The original phrase is, “敵に塩を送る” (teki ni shio ha okuru) which means one should act with humanity even to their rivals. **Citron is saying, “タイタン” (Titan) instead of “退散“ (Taisan, breaking away)

< Chapter 4 | Masterlist | Chapter 6 >

[xmoonlightjasminex]

Take Center Stage

Chapter 1

: Testing.....Testing....1-2-3Chapter Text

It was a beautiful day in the city of Paris, The City of Lights and Love and Fashion. People were bustling around, each with their own business in mind. Teachers were teaching, bakers were baking, and in a darkened room stood a costumed man. He wore a dark purple suit and a mask that hid his face. In his hands was a cane and a very interesting brooch in the shape of a butterfly.

Yes, even Hawkmoth the city's resident villain was having a nice day so far. He was just about to scour the air for a new victim to be akumatized. To offer them powers beyond their wildest imagination, for the price of them acquiring the miraculouses of the two town heroes Ladybug and Chat Noir.

Now, if this was a normal day a potential akuma could be found at any time, but try and search as he might Hawkmoth just couldn`t find one. After a full hour of searching he growled before spitting out the words. “Fluther off!” Which was lucky that no one was around to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness as the adult man spat those words as if they had personally offended him.

A tiny lavender creature emerged from the brooch gem, looking at the man in front of him in wariness.

“C..can I help you master?” the Butterfly creature, named Nooroo was still wary of the stone faced man standing in front, no matter how many times he had spoken to him he was still shy.

“Nooroo...Why is no one akumatized yet?” The silhouette of the man spoke, in the dark room illuminated only by the window.

“W..well Master, it seems that no one is angry today?” Nooroo`s statement ended more as a question.

“....I see. And tell me Nooroo. Does one have to be angry to become an akuma?” The man questioned.

“N..not really.” The tiny creature mumbled, looking at his tiny nubs for hands.

“T..they just have to feel a strong enough emotion.” He was going to continue explaining, but was cut off.

“A strong enough emotion? One that does not have to be negative?” The man asked as a completely new idea formed into his mind. “W..well yes but…” poor Nooroo was cut off from speaking as he was sucked into the brooch by his wielders next words. “Fluther on!” The newly masked Hawkmoth began to search with renewed vigor for an akuma. And not five minutes later he found his next champion.

A girl in a state of ennui, wanting and wishing to be special. And he could make her special, give her a gift to differentiate her from all the others. And all she had to do was, obey him. Just as he summoned a butterfly to rest on his hand and to corrupt before sending it to his new victim, there was a knock from the other side of the door.

“Mister Agreste? I am sorry to bother you, but there is an urgent matter concerning the newest production line….” A female voice spoke from the other side.

As he had turned to the door, Hawkmoth didn't notice a the small butterfly with a tiny black dot on its pristine white wings fluther away. No, but the tiny god currently residing in the brooch did, and it didn't plan on saying anything. “I will be out in a moment Natalie.” The man spoke, before hastily de-transforming, showing renown Fashion mogul Gabriel Agreste to be hiding behind the Butterfly mask.

Completely forgetting about the planned akumatization, the man took off said brooch and left it and the tiny creature in the room. Soon he would be so swamped with paperwork and business associated stress, that he will completely forget the new discovery he learned from Nooroo.

Unlike him, once he was left alone, Nooroo flew towards the window and if he squinted he could see the tiny butterfly flying away to its new champion. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Edelweiss Amarante was bored. The German-French brunette blue-green-eyed girl had just arrived to Paris with her mother and father a month ago, and already the young teenager was bored. And she had been so excited to finally get to do something unusual. She loved the moving, and she loved the townhouse her parents had gotten from a very distant relative who wanted to move to the Alps, for whatever reason. She loved her room, which was at the top floor of the huge house, an entire floor to herself. Granted it had been the attic before, but it had such a rustic charm to it.

Heck ,she even loved the tenants her parents had taken under their wings when they arrived. She loved family dinners where she met a bunch of people from all different kinds. The only downside to that was that none of the tenants had any kids, either they were too young in college or still trying their luck in finding work, or too old with their children and grandchildren all grown up. Or not married.

She was the only child at the entire house. Of course by default that meant she was babied and had a bunch of big sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles and elderly who looked after her and greeted her. And she loved that, she loved greeting Madame Beauchamp as she left for school and the older woman was watering her beautiful gardenia bush in the enclosed garden. She loved visiting Natasha, Katya and Mila the three Russian students that studied at the Royal Academy of Dance. They would fuss over her, teaching her tips and tricks and words in Russian.

She liked talking about books with Lucas, a British gentleman who lived to read. And his complete opposite of a partner Mark who was a boisterous and loud. And their poor roommate who had to be a witness to their couple moments the jokester Enric who would crack a joke anytime to make the two blush.

She liked to greet the resident mystic Madame Dorina, as she liked to be called. She had transformed her living room into a fortune tellers parlor, and had regular visitors. She would often usher Edelweiss in and make her a cup of tea to tell her fortune, her beloved white Persian Cat Leila mingling under the table begging for a scratch or a treat. Her other cat Hades, a pitch black Shorthair stood a ways away, always watching like a silent protector. He had the arrogance his name gave him, Madame Dorina had once told her, that she never let anyone in whom he didn't like.

Monsieur and Madame Hawa were an Arabic couple that had emigrated to France in the 80`s, they were a delight in the dinner table. Madame always knew a brand new recipe and a way to change a dish flavor by using a tiny amount of spice, and Monsieur Hawa could spin the best of stories, like a magician speaking magic.

For Edelweiss it was beautiful, there was never a dull moment. But compared to all those people who were there, even her own parents she was completely ordinary. Even her schoolmates weren`t excluded. She heard there were many talented and even a famous model at her school. She had yet to meet them or learn their names, but compared to them what did Edelweiss had?

A tiny passion for singing? What a joke.

The brunette girl sighed as she had looked out the window to the sky. It was a lovely day, that she had spent helping Madame Beauchamp with her prized flowers, and a small bouquet of fragrant blossoms sat on her desk.

So deep in thought was Edel, that she didn't notice when a beautiful white butterfly fluttered into her room, and after a moment of flitting around the space before finally resting on her chest and disappearing in a glow of white.

The moment that happened Edelweiss felt a drowsy slumber overtake her, so closing her eyes she dreamed a dream filled with wonder and beauty. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next day rose bright and early, and Edel was already bustling through her room. She was up and couldn't make herself go down stairs yet. Her parents Eric and Christine, yes she knew how ironic those names were, she had watched Phantom of the Opera. It didn't help that her folks had quite the pipes on them, or were avid music lovers.

She had the idea to try and sing a song, maybe it would make her feel better.

I want to be extraordinary Not just extra-ordinary She began singing, before shrugging her shoulder, sitting down on her bed.

It seems like everywhere I see People far more interesting than me I know the changes kinda scary But maybe I should try to vary She remembered the tenants and all their talents and hobbies, all so very different and new and interesting.

Some minor details A small degree A slightly different version of me Looking out her window, she began to imagine the possibilities.

Well I could learn to cook vegetarian Or take fashion workshop Meditate, calculate Learn to knit a tank top She did notice that her imagined scenes were far more realistic looking than usual, like she was actually trying these thing, albeit for a brief few seconds. The cooking, the fashion, meditating, calculating and knitting. All of them, but she still continued to sing.

Yoga, hula Clogging, jogging Walking on a tightrope Take a correspondence course And learn to make my own soap Even more activities she cycled through.What was going on??

Jumping on a pogo stick Standing in a wheat field Going on a snipe hunt Gonna keeps my eyes peeled Take a little time to really decorate my door And change my hair to black and then I'll dye it even orange She could feel the texture of her hair changing, she wansn`t imagining these places she was making them appear. How was she doing this?!

Underwater taxidermy Shopping for a suitcase Peeling tangerines while placing second in a sack race

Lion taming, online gaming Try'n to win a prize fight Appear in a talk show Dress-up like a water sprite She really started to go into the song, liking her scenery changing after her voice.

Yeah! I'm gonna be extraordinary I'm gonna stand out from the crowd And shout out loud You'll see That it's a brand new me!! Finally she finished her song,going through several other hobbies before she was back in her room, breathing slightly hard. Looking around she couldn`t understand what happened, how did she do that? The burst of confidence that song and that experience gave her was so good!

‘I`m glad you like it.’ A voice whispered and she shrieked in surprise looking around for the source.

‘Wh-what the!! Who, who said that?!” She asked aloud, but no one was up there.

Here it is if you wanna read it: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13883553/chapters/31944003

[frenchraisins]

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