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c-o-t-o · 3 months

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Veiled Whispers - Xavier (Part 1)

(Part 2 here)

Author: c-o-t-o

Character: Xavier x fem reader

CW: 18+ only, sexual content/smut, explicit language, drunkenness, dubcon, teasing, light bdsm (some CWs apply to other parts)

Misc: ~1k words, Part 1. This fic is supposed to take off where the 5 star memory ends with Xavier

About: After Xavier tends to your injury and sees you're still drunk, you start feeling him up. Realizing what it is you want, Xavier decides to indulge in you, finally showing you how he feels.

*Do not remove info or credit from posts when reblogging or sharing!*

“We can't delay the sunrise, but… we can make the night a little darker.” Xavier's lips whisper into the skin of your bare shoulder.

You had been up so late to begin with, that going back to his place, the sun was already starting to rise. Xavier closes the blinds, plummeting the room back into near darkness, save for a few very dim lights. Xavier made sure he could make his room very dark for when he was exhausted and needed to sleep in the daytime. It really did feel like it was still the middle of the night.

By now you've sobered up just enough to make sense of everything going on. You were still tipsy though, how could you not be? After all of those drinks you shared with Xavier outside while watching the Valentine's Day lights, it's only natural for you to still be pretty drunk. But at least you're not blacking out anymore. You're… in a good place.

Still sitting on the edge of Xavier's bed, your eyes follow him from the windows as he walks around to the other side of his bed. He pulls the untied tie off his neck and lets it fall to the floor. Slowly crawling onto his bed on his hands and knees, he pulls you back to lay down. The sudden movement makes you a little dizzy, but it quickly subsides. When your eyes refocus, Xavier is kneeling above you, hands pressed into the bed on both sides of your head. His shirt is still completely open.

“Xavier… what-” is all you manage to say before he puts a finger to your mouth to shush you. With his face just above yours, you see his eyes so clearly, even in the dimness. His gaze, normally soft and sleepy, is now filled with determination and hazy lust. And although it almost hurts to be looked at so deeply by him, you can't bring yourself to look away. With your limited view you notice, however, blush spreading beneath his eyes and across the bridge of his nose. Seeing him blush makes your heart start racing in your chest because you begin to wonder, ‘why is he blushing?’

Your hand grazes his cheek, thumb rubbing the blush on his skin.

“You're drunk too, aren't you, Xavier? Your face is so red…” your voice trails off when you take notice of how soft, yet hot, his face has become.

“I'm not drunk…” he softly whispers, eyes averting your gaze. He slowly looks back at you, sighing, and cupping his hand over yours on his face. "Hmm. I might be, a little bit.”

Xavier closes his eyes and turns his face to kiss the inside of your hand. He pulls your arm up and begins leaving a trail of kisses from your hand, down your wrist, to your arm. You can hear his short, breathy exhales between each kiss.

Before you know it, Xavier has turned you over onto your stomach, face buried into his pillow. He kneels above you, hands gently resting on your back to keep you from turning back around.

“What are you doing?" You turn your face out of the pillow to ask. At the same time you notice just how soft and plush his pillow is. You can smell his hair and gentle cologne on it, and it gives you goosebumps.

“I've asked you many times if you were worried about me getting back at you one day.” he whispers calmly, seductively. “You're always the one touching me, so why…” his voice trails off almost sadly while he drags the back of his fingers down your cheek. “Why is it that only you get to touch me? To tease me…” his blush reddens after mentioning that. "Aren't you worried I'll get you back? When you're not looking… when your back is turned… just like you've always done to me.”

You feel Xavier gently move your hair away from your shoulder, then suddenly, his warm lips on the back of your neck. He exhales on your skin, raising goosebumps in its path. His kisses are soft and plush against your skin, slowly going from the back of your neck down towards your shoulder. Taking his time with each and every kiss as if he's trying to memorize the feeling every time. The sensation makes your head cringe with pleasure, and you can't help but to moan out loud into his pillow. The sound is muffled, but loud enough to let him know that it feels good to you.

“All I want is to be able to touch you," he murmurs quietly into your ear. “To kiss you," he says as he kisses behind your ear. “To make you feel good." Xavier lets out a low moan in your ear as he exhales on it.

All the while, unbeknownst to you since your head was spinning with pleasure, Xavier slipped the straps of your dress off your shoulders, exposing your back. He already unhooked your bra, and was tracing shapes lightly with his fingertips on your skin. You feel your skin raise at the feeling. Noticing that, Xavier presses his warm hands into your back, almost massaging your shoulders.

As gently as he can, he helps you sit up on your knees. Xavier is still behind you, kneeling, chin resting in the crook of your neck.

“You're so beautiful." He exhales as his hands glide around to your front. The top of your dress has already fallen down to your waist, breasts exposed. Xavier’s big, warm hands move around to the front of you and cups them. You glance down and see his strong hands ever so gently fondling your breasts. Every time his hands glide up to the top of them, you see the veins in his hands from his muscles tensing underneath. He handled you so delicately as if you were something to be cherished. Xavier waited so long to be able to express his love for you, and by god, he was going to do it tonight.

“I hope you're ready for what's next, my love.” Xavier nuzzles your cheek with his face while still holding your chest. “I'll make you feel so good that you'll see stars."

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace x reader #xavier #LADS xavier #love and deepspace smut #xavier smut #LADS xavier smut #xavier x you #xavier x fem reader #xavier x reader #fanfic #c-o-t-o

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twistedapple · 6 months

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On cherry and musk

EDIT 28/10/2023: Part two of the Perfume Rant is bout, about Astarion this time! + added a correction regarding the sulfur part.

EDIT 3/11/2023: Part three of the Perfume Rant is up, this time I talk about my OC, Nuria.

EDIT 28/11/2023: I kept forgetting to make that edit but I added a comment regarding the cherry and how its sickly sweet tone is usually used in perfumes to express death.

Hello hello.

Because Raphael's perfume, according to Yurgir, is exactly the type of scent that makes me lose my mind while being quite uncommon for men perfumes IRL, I've decided to go on a bit of perfume rant because I really like perfume in general (which is funny considering my autistic ass easily goes in sensory overload, especially atm with my state of autistic burnout).

To introduce the topic, I'd like to present some generalities about perfumes, so you know what I mean once I start losing my mind about why Raphael's scent would drive me crazy IRL (someone at Larian knows their shit about perfumes).

Perfumes are, most commonly, made with an alcoholic base (the Middle East also has an oil base), because the ingredients used to create the scents are more soluble in alcohol than water. There are distinctions in the types of perfumes once can find, based on the concentration of scented molecules:

Perfumed mists: less than 3% of scented molecules, low duration over time;

Colognes: the weakest concentration in perfumes as we usually know and use them. It has a long history as well, and was first worn by men;

Eau de toilette (here, understand that it's a perfume associated with cleanliness): count between 5% and 15% of scented molecules;

Eau de parfum (lit. "perfume water"): count between 10% and 20% of scented molecules. These perfumes are more expensive because they're more concentrated, however nowadays they're still commonly found in stores;

Extrait de parfum (perfume extract - pure perfume): count between 15% and 40% of scented molecules, the high concentration means it has to be used with care.

Now, why do we wear perfume? Everything around us as a scent: the soap used to wash our clothes, the food we cook, the deodorant we use... Our own skin has a natural scent. Wearing perfume is a way to control our scent and define our olfactive identity as part of our self-expression and sense of fashion. With hormones at play, not every perfume works with anybody - for example, Hesperide-type perfumes don't suit me, but work wonderfully well on my mother -, so the way a perfume sits and ages on one's skin is just as important as one's personal preferences in term of scents. Interestingly, for some decades now the most common perfumes tend to have a "clean" scent, which matches with Western standards of cleanliness. However, the goal of perfumes being self-expression, they also tend to tell a story based on the way the notes develop and work together.

We have various categories for perfumes, which involve the styles based on the families of notes, the time of the day and the seasons.

The main families of perfume are Floral (self-explanatory), Chypre (woody scents), Oriental (spiced scents), Hesperide (citrus scents) and Aquatic (water-like scents). These families can be mixed in the scale of notes to obtain a more complex scent. For example, Floral scents tend to work well with Oriental and Hesperide tones, Hesperide tones work well with Aquatic ones, Oriental and Chypre scents can be associated to create heady perfumes...

The times of the day are either Daytime or Nighttime. Daytime perfumes tend to be lighter, while Nighttime perfumes, often worn during events or at clubs, will be stronger since they compete with other stronger scents.

Seasons also influence perfumes, some molecules won't last as well in Summer as they do in Winter for example. On the other hand, some molecules will have a harder time expressing themselves in the cold of Winter, so heavier scents may be needed.

A perfume is organised in three layers to unfold its story:

Top notes: the very first notes, which usually don't last much but open the impression of the perfume;

Heart notes: the core scents of the perfume, around which the story is built;

Base notes: the lasting notes of the perfume, which close the story.

There is also two ways a perfume works:

Sillage: the trail left by a perfume;

Projection: the perimeter in whih a perfume can be felt.

Feminine and Masculine perfumes tend to be quite different as well. Feminine perfumes tend to lean on floral and fruity scents, while masculine perfumes will be more in the Aquatic and Oriental family with leather and musk tones. This is where I start my rant on Raphael's likely amazing perfume.

Fruits are rarely used for masculine perfume, to the point I'd say it's a grossly ignored scent family for men. Some years ago, I crossed path with a man in the metro who had the most amazing perfume, with raspberry in distinctive top note, unfolding into a warm woody scent. This is what got me into perfumes, because I had to find out what perfume it was - the most likely candidate is One Million by Paco Rabane, but even then I am not sure. This is a very specific and striking scent, precisely because it's so uncommon for a man to wear. With that in mind, let's remember what Yurgir said Raphael's scent is: cherries, musk and sulfur. I suspect we can take these notes in the proper top-heart-base notes, because they'd make sense that way both in term of perfume composition and as a mean to tell Raphael's personal story.

Cherries make for a sweet, enticing top note, perfect to express Raphael's ability to charm his victims clients. Cherries' sweetness is also often associated with the sickly sweet smell of death, and is used for that purpose in perfumes following that theme. Considering what signing a devil's contract entails, it's quite fitting.

Musk is a common note both for masculine and feminine perfumes, but it tends to be used as a base note. This time, however, it'd make sense to have it in heart note for at least two fantastic reasons: to draw people further in with a warm and sensual note, and because the base note serves to close the story better than musk.

Sulfur as base note would be extremely smart. One might ask me "but Crow, doesn't sulfur smell like rotten egg?" And that would be a pertinent question. It wouldn't be the first time a strange ingredient is used to complete a perfume by providing unexpected results. Here, we're not just talking sulfur, we're talking brimstone. Mixed with the other notes, however, it creates a smoky scent that serves to hint at Raphael's nature as a devil (gotta smell like Avernus!), and also provides a strong support for the sensual musk by adding depth to it.

We also have Raphael's boudoir invitation described as having his perfume: palmarosa and pepper. These scents tend to be heart notes, to compose a refreshing spicy floral: palmarosa is a floral scent with a citrus tone, pepper is what it says on the tin and is considered an aphrodisiac scent. Fitting the boudoir invite, considering the presence of a certain incubus... This addition in the heart notes would counter-balance the musk nicely and contribute to a layer of complexity with a surprisingly feminine tone: floral oriental notes are rarely used in masculine perfumes. However, here I think it serves to express refinement through complexity - something people often associate with Raphael, who presents as a noble (and is, by the Nine Hells' standards, a noble in his quality as Mephistopheles' son), as well as frames himself as an agreeable host who can offer many pleasures to his guests and clients (as long as they have something to provide in exchange - cue the sulfur as base note to remind of Raphael's diabolical nature).

Yurgir describes Tav as bearing Raphael's scent. Raphael was near Tav, which makes me think his perfume has projection rather than sillage. It'd make sense for Raphael to have a perfume more oriented towards projection than sillage: he'd want to let people know he's here, and it's a subtle way to dominate the scene as well in a magnetic manner - and we know Raphael has an imperious tendency, even in his handwriting, so having it expressed in his perfume as well would make sense.

To conclude, Raphael has fantastic taste in perfume in my totally biased opinion (this sort of perfume is a shortcut to make me swoon IRL), and what has been confirmed as being his scent/perfume serves to subtly support his characterisation and tell a story both to us players and the people he deals with in the story.

#not twisted wonderland #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 raphael #raphael's perfume would make me OBSESSED #keep this post under the arm if you want to understand what I'm doing with my OC's perfume as well #I REALLY LIKE PERFUME I'm serious when I talk about storytelling in perfumes

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doobea · 5 months

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DAYTIME SHOOTING STAR - REO MIKAGE

synopsis: Being a college student sucks. Having a crush on your best friend also sucks. Your best friend having a crush on your other best friend is . . . kinda the worst. In which, Reo is hopelessly in love with you but you’re hard crushing on Nagi.

-> MASTERLIST. -> PLAYLIST.

contents: second lead syndrome feat. fem!reader & reo, heavy narration in the beginning as per usual whoops, also in an au where bluelock never happened LOL, grandparental meeting, reo x stardew valley vibes, of course y/n and reo get together duh, nagi's been shipping them together since high school word count: 3.9K a/n: FINAL PART OUT YAY :3 thank you for joining me on this journey hehe this was also my first time attempt of writing reo so hopefully his characterization went ok ;-;

VEGA -> prev.

You get the feeling that Nagi is up to something, after a while.

Well, Nagi is always up to something — gaming and dozing off, to be exact. This time, though, all of his attention seems to be fixated on you.

“That’s not your sweater,” he says, pointedly, one day, when you waltz into their apartment with a handful of pastries. You decided to make a detour trip to a local bakery earlier in the morning, carefully curating the palettes of the two males because —well— after that happened you felt like a small offering would be needed in a way.

Like how many others delegate, the kiss was rather… confusing to all. Nagi doesn’t bring it up when you three all return back to festival grounds, nor does he bring it up to Reo when you finally go home. Reo’s been texting you like all things are normal, and you guess it’s because he doesn’t really know what to do either. Though, he’s been more endearing than usual over text, which you take as a sign that something is progressing.

Let’s just say that it’ll be weird for you to wake up without a ‘good morning, did you eat yet?’ text from a certain billionaire’s son.

Backstory aside, Nagi’s not lounging around for once. He’s leaning against the kitchen counter with a freshly brewed cup of coffee in his hands from a brand you’re not familiar with. Judging by its fine print font and pastel color scheme, you assumed that Nana stopped by not too long ago. And his gaze isn’t leaving your sweater. Whatever, you’re probably not wearing it correctly anyway. Stupid rich people problems.

“It’s Reo’s,” you say, lightly, and scoot by him to place down the baked goods. “He accidentally gave me his sweater when he returned my things, that’s all.”

It wasn’t an accident. Reo had made sure to spray that sweater with all the cologne he had. The sweater is warm, comfortable, and smells just like him. It’s nice.

Nagi gives you a look. It’s not a strong look, but it’s obvious enough to make your cheeks heat up. “Uh huh,” he deadpans before giving you a full up-down. “You’re wearing it, though.”

“Yeah, I am,” you shrug it off, trying to pretend that you don’t understand what the big deal was.

Okay, yeah, your best friend suddenly kisses you and now you’re rethinking about your life choices since high school because you were so sure that you liked his other friend. And the fact that you kissed back? Was that supposed to happen? And you didn’t wear this sweater today in hopes of Reo seeing you, nope that’s not it. Reo doesn’t make you feel warm and fuzzy because this sweater does all of that. It’s a comfort thing and Reo doesn’t bring you comfort… right?

You apparently have some cheesy expression written all over your face, though, and that causes Nagi to pinch your cheek to snap you back to reality. “Suits you,” Nagi decides to end the topic before shifting to the main subject. “Reo’s out this morning.”

“I wasn’t trying to see him,” you grumble out, eyes narrowing as you fix yourself a latte and adding way too many shots of espresso to fight off your internal turmoil. You add a large serving of caramel syrup to balance out the bitterness and then top it off with a heavy serving of whipped cream, sighing happily as you get a mouthful of the sugary concoction within the first sip.

Nagi simply shakes his head and drains the rest of his drink in one go. “Well, he’s been talking about you nonstop, if that makes—” Nagi stops in his tracks when he watches your ears perk up. “—you happy…”

At this point, Nagi probably thinks everyone is in on a poorly executed inside joke, except for him. He doesn’t like it, but what can he do? His two best friends are now awkwardly pinning each other and neither of them are sparing him any details. Then again, he’s not sure if he wants all the details. So, instead of poking a dead fish around, he exits to the living room and throws on a weekly series that he’s been meaning to catch up on. These past two months have been quite tiring.

You eventually join him on the couch, body now running on full blast of caffeine and loads of caramel. “Sei, tell me everything that he’s said, please?” and you throw out your best attempt at puppy eyes because you know that Nagi has always been horrible at saying no to these kinds of things.

But maybe getting a girlfriend has changed him, somewhat.

“You’ll hear it from him, eventually,” Nagi simply answers, smiling.

Of course, regardless of how many times you repeat yourself, Nagi would spit back the same response. Since when did he start caring for Reo’s secrecy all of a sudden? Pretty lame. You zone out when an action sequence comes on the screen and begin texting Reo.

‘where are you’ You text over a character monologue in the background.

‘At some stores, picking up last minute gifts for later.’ Reo replies back with a series of emojis.

By ‘stores’, you would only guess it’s nothing but high-end designer stuff. ‘Gifts’ implying that he’s buying multiple for your family and relatives. ‘Later’ is when the two of you will depart on visiting your hometown for the weekend because it turns out Reo was actually serious about taking up your off-handed comment.

‘i told you not to get anything!!’ You send an angry emoji right after.

Nagi is absolutely reading over your shoulder, too, and if looks could kill, you’re pretty sure you’d be in a million pieces, burning to bits on the floor. “Got a hot date with Reo, huh?”

“Well, you didn’t want to come and we’re not dating…” you huff before pushing him away. “And stop reading my texts!”

“Don’t text while I’m watching my show, it’s distracting.” Nagi shoots back, and you don’t really have an argument for that.

Though, you just glare at him until he eventually backs off and you go back to texting Reo, a bit more subtly, talking about various expensive gifts that he can get instead of showing up to your family doorsteps with diamonds and silk robes. You haven’t had anyone from the city come visit your hometown, so you’re a little nervous to say the least. Especially since someone accompanying you is several tax brackets ahead…though Reo wouldn’t judge you differently. Because he likes you, in more ways than one. Fuck.

You’re ignoring a lot of things happening right now, and bringing him over to meet your family is making you feel weird. Ugh, whatever.

In the end, Reo ends up returning half of his purchases because apparently designer bags and jewelry won't serve your grandparents that well in their everyday lives. So he opts to buy them expensive fruits instead. Fruits are already expensive in the country, so when Reo showed up with boxed grapes that costed more than your current outfit, you could've sworn your eyes were about to pop out of your sockets.

Reo should’ve known better than to wear anything remotely formal when he agreed to come visit your hometown. Tailored suits are expensive and difficult to replace and, from what he’s experienced within the past hour, the mud that’s been splattered all over his dress shoes and pants haven’t gone away no matter how much cleaning reagent he’s used so far. But complaints are off the table, no matter how much he absolutely wants to point out the sweltering heat and the lack of air conditioning in your home.

The plane ride over wasn’t any better. You blatantly refused to use his credit card for first-class seating upgrades regardless how many times he’d begged you.

“It’ll only be a two hour flight, Reo. Plus, economy isn’t that bad.” You reasoned.

Oh, but it was.

He’s a gentleman and gentlemen should always let others pick which seat they want first. Window seat was a non negotiable for you, and he didn’t really mind. What he did mind was the random stranger seated to his right.

Screen brightness — max.

Volume settings — max.

Chewing noises — sadly, also max.

It’s a miracle that he didn’t flag down an attendant and leave you for first class. Well, flight aside, landing happens and, inevitably, comes the next part.

“Are you enjoying your stay so far?”

Your grandmother comes into view, coming to Reo’s rescue with a sunhat and a bottle of water, and the basket next to her was already filled to the brim with all types of vegetable assortments from the garden. Reo graciously takes the hat and sips of the water before glancing down at his own basket, which is very much barren. He thought offering to help with harvesting will win him some brownie points, but he should’ve known how dirty it would get.

“It’s definitely different from what I’m used to, but it’s nice here.” He’s honest about the last part.

The city doesn’t offer much in terms of parks and recreational activities and, despite the fact he’s pretty sure his button up is practically attached to his skin and that there’s probably a centipede (or two) crawling in his shoes, the whole nature thing is pretty serene. Your parents’ old home is a cozy cottage right off the side of the country road, surrounded by rice paddy fields with a wide range of mountains in the backdrop. Occasionally, Reo would see truck drivers making pit stops out in the front to either pick up a small shipment or make small talk with your grandfather — it’s completely foreign to him given that he’s so used to the stuffy business world. Seeing all of this makes Reo understand why some would enjoy a life of simple living and solitude.

Your grandmother laughs. “We were afraid that you wouldn’t like it here.”

To this, Reo digs his hands back into the soil and pulls out a set of carrots in hands. “Sorry, did I give off that impression?” Says the boy who’s currently dressed head to toe in formal wear. Idiot.

“Our granddaughter has been…” she trails off for a moment, finger pursed to her lips and head tilted, before finishing. “She’s been blowing up the family group chat about this trip for a while now. Safe to say she’s been worried.”

Oh. That’s news.

Reo wipes off the puddle of sweat from his face and straightens his back. “It’s beautiful and peaceful here, you wouldn’t be able to get this back in the city. Everyone’s been really nice and the food,” he points down to the field. “You wouldn’t be able to get these without them costing an arm and a leg for the sake of being ‘organic’.”

“Sounds like you want to move here.”

And for the sake of earning those brownie points, “Yeah, I can see myself doing that one day.”

“Imagine that. Can’t stay away from our granddaughter, right?” she teases, and it causes him to do a double take.

“W-What?”

She ignores Reo’s stammering and hands him a pair of gloves and a metal bucket. “Once you finish picking the rest, come meet me by the farmhouse, the cows need some attention.”

Reo might have to rethink his career path after this trip.

“Can you tell your cousins to knock it off, please?” Your best friend is grumbling and hiding behind you for all things safety related.

One thing you forgot to mention, outside of the laborious work, is that your little cousins are an absolute menace to outsiders. The youngest one has been non stop terrorizing Reo around the house with a live grasshopper while the older one keeps throwing him glares and middle fingers. This has been going on right after dinner and Reo’s getting really sick of them and their chattering about how they hate seeing you with someone that needs ‘pampering’.

You huff and roll your eyes playfully. “You think I haven’t tried shutting them up?”

“Good point,” Reo groans from behind. He’s gripping your shoulders as if he’s on life support, shaking every time the youngest one raises the grasshopper closer. “Can’t you just give them an iPad or anything?”

“And what? So they can turn into those kids who stare at a screen all day? No thank you.” You tease, but you give your cousins a final stern look before getting to their eye level.

Reo watches, silent but amused, as you pluck the insect out of the boy’s grasp and pinch his cheek with a light tug, not enough to shed tears but enough to cause him to yelp. You motion the older one over, who just grumbles under his breath but obeys anyway.

“Big sis, we swear we’re just playing together—” the older one starts, and you simply respond with a hard head shake.

“That’s not how we treat guests in our home. Last time I checked, you guys didn’t like it when I made you clean out the pig pen for fun,” you retort with a casual grin. “Time to head back to auntie’s place anyway, it’s way past your bedtimes.”

Both of them sigh in defeat, but that doesn’t stop them from throwing up a pair of middle fingers at Reo. Hey, down with the rich — they’re on the right track in life. And you know deep down they’re just looking out for you ever since your experience in high school, even if the hatred towards city folks is on the extreme side.

You’re stifling a laugh as the pair leave the house. Reo loosens his grip on your shoulders when they are out of ear shot and nudges your sides because you still have that damn grasshopper in your hands.

“Puke or cry in my house and I’m making you sleep with the cows tonight.” The threat is spoken casually, with a bit of affection to it, but Reo knows damn well it’s a valid threat.

“I’m not going to puke or cry,” he replies, haughtily. “And, for the record, I helped the cows earlier today so I’m practically their mother.”

“Oh yeah, thanks for that, you didn’t have to.” You gently toss the grasshopper out the kitchen window, making sure it landed on a patch of soft grass. “Grandma was constantly raving about you after you finished. Saying something about planning the next weekend trip together.”

“Yeah, might as well help around, you know?” Reo weakly chuckles and briefly looks down at his hands. What he doesn’t add is that his hands are going to be sore for the next few days and that maybe your grandparents think he’s going to move in with them in the future. Something of that sort.

“It’s not the worst idea,” You grin. The sun is down, and the stars in the sky are starting to poke through. You catch Reo trying to get a good look before an idea pops up. “My room has a pretty good view of everything, if you want to head up?” You would offer to lay outside but, considering that the ecosystem here offers much bigger bugs, you decided against it.

Unsurprisingly, Reo takes up on the suggestion.

Your old bedroom is sparsely furnished, and that’s intentional. Most of your personal belongings are currently at your college apartment. All that’s left is a full sized bed, an old boxy television with an equally old boxy stand, a couple of bookshelves stuffed full of children's books, and one of those large colorful beanbags by the window sill.

It’s a nice bedroom, for all things considered. A lot more vibrant and has more character than Reo’s old bedroom growing up. From what he’s shown you before, his bedroom was almost a black and white minimalist’s wet dream.

“It’s a bit dusty, hope you don’t mind.”

Your bedroom window has a nice view of the mountain side, and Reo’s quickly distracted by the swarm of fireflies and night stars as he quickly shoves his suitcase into the corner and settles on your bed without a second thought.

“I like it,” He replies, in a careful, casual voice. And maybe it’s just your imagination, but you swear, your best friend sounds both anxious and excited, and maybe there’s a hint of nerves in there, too. Whatever it is, your stomach is back to doing those weird flips.

You try to think. You’re aware of several things right now. First, your best friend is making himself very comfortable in your bed. Second, he’s giving you a look, one that just screams some sort of smug superiority. Third, despite it being humid and warm in your room, you really just want to bury your face into his shoulder. Maybe you should climb in with him, look at the stars together, curled up and snuggling, maybe even run your fingers through his hair, and—

“So,” Reo interrupts and snaps you out of your strange reverie. “You’re sleeping on the floor, right?”

“Huh?” your voice is bleary, and your thoughts are kinda far off. Reo shuffles his way under your sheets and suddenly you put two and two together. “I saved you from those little demons and this is the thanks I get?”

“I deserve it since I worked,” Reo sighs, dramatically, when you finally find the courage to sit down on the ends of the mattress. “Or did you want to share it together?” Tease oozes into his tone.

That last bit makes your heart skip a couple of beats. Alcohol wasn’t in the dinner mix and, even if it was, Reo would never be this bold in front of you. Perhaps there’s something floating in the summer air.

“Stop pretending that you live here,” but you eventually settle yourself underneath the blankets too, just on the other side to put some good inches in between.

Reo’s smiling, and that’s all that matters. It doesn’t bother you when he manages to hog all the blankets and the limited amount of pillows. He’s a gentleman, but also has his needy side that he’s not afraid of showing. Not to mention that he looks good in the dim lighting, even though he’s only been wearing one of your grandpa’s old t-shirts after working in the field. It finally makes the strange fluttering in your stomach calm into a steady, present warmth, and that’s maybe more problematic, but you don’t give it any real thought.

Reo speaks up after a few passing heartbeats. “Can I… say something?”

You swallow thickly. “Go for it.”

It can’t be just your imagination, the way Reo’s mouth parts, just a little, the way his tongue is dating out to wet his lips. You’re leaning forward, hand reaching down between. You can’t stop looking at him.

“I want…” Reo tries to say, but his throat is a giant lump.

“Reo,” You breathe out in response, head tipping, “If you keep looking at me like that, then…”

It comes in swift moments, with Reo pressed close, with both of your hips bumping together, with arms slung over the other’s shoulder. There’s been those moments of laughter, where it feels as if the whole world has faded away in a blur beyond the gaze of your best friend. It’s cliche and dumb, but you feel, in a way, that you’ve been looking at Reo for your life. And you have, really, because he’s always been there for you.

There’s a lot of things that Reo could say. They’re burning on his tongue, building in his throat, getting stuck there. He should just push them out, just say it. Or, maybe, he should say nothing at all, because that wonder and those answers are all reflected in your gaze.

Both of you are so close that he can make out every strand of your lashes. He can see the subtle shift of color in your eyes, the dark band increasing around your pupils, that slight nervous glimmer there. It’s got Reo’s heart pounding in his chest, hammering to be freed. He’s got one hand pressed into the small of your back, stroking there, slow and affectionate. His other hand is trembling, just a little, and he steadies himself bracing it against your cheek.

It’s got you shivering, and Reo realizes that you’re both a bit terrified.

“I want to be yours,” Reo might be nervous as hell, but he steels his voice, and brushes your lips together, he’s so close, when he talks. “I can’t think about anything else when I’m with you. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, but—”

“Reo,” you take the initiative here, shifting closer, and settling your lips close to his neck. “It’s okay. I want you too.”

You take another inch forward and Reo allows it. Maybe you’re both getting more comfortable with each other. Maybe getting brave and feeling more grown up. Likely, it’s a combination of everything, and a good dose of ‘fuck it’s, from being young, and dumb, despite it all.

You’re not sure who leans in first but, before it even fully registers, his lips glide over yours. There’s some awkward teeth clacking involved, probably from the fact both of you are way too full of nerves over this, but Reo fixes it and begins to trace his tongue over the small opening of your lips. You move your hands straight to his locks, still damp from the earlier shower he took and the scent of lemongrass and citrus invades your nostrils.

Reo's kissing you as if he wants to swallow you whole. It's hungry, desperate, and intimate in a way that made your heart swell triple in size. The sounds of your beating chest floods your ears as he's pouring his emotions into the kiss, making sure that he's leaving behind evidence that his soul is yours to claim. The heat radiating off his body pulls you in, like an invitation, and you sink further into his touch.

After a moment, you pull back, hands still entangled in his hair.

“Your parents, aren’t you worried about—”

“I don’t pay mind to that type of stuff,” he presses a firm kiss on your forehead. “And you shouldn't have to either. That’s a future thing to worry about.”

That sounds good, you agree, but you’re growing too sleepy to voice it. Instead, you shut your eyes, reaching over blindly to find the edges of the blankets, tugging it up over you two. There’s really no way to move, without cramming at the edge of the mattress. You don’t care, and Reo doesn’t seem to, either.

“Hey, Reo?” You mumble as you both slip into silence.

“Yeah?” He’s tried, but awake enough to shake past the exhaustion, enough to form vague words. “What is it?”

You sit up, just a little, and it’s enough to inspire Reo to force his eyes open. You’re watching him, eyes intent, shining bright with emotion. It’s almost — just almost — enough to have Reo saying those three special little words. They’re right there, on the tip of his tongue, and only then he realizes that he’s terribly in love with you. He’s hopelessly in love. It’s way too early to say it, but he is.

You laugh, burying your face in Reo’s neck again, pressing a kiss there. “I’m glad that you’re here with me.”

Reo has hesitated a lot, during the past months. It’s taken him a while to get here. For once, though, awake or dreaming, it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t hesitate.

“I’m glad too,” he mumbles, and then, he’s dreaming, of endless what if’s and possibilities with you now in his life.

additional note: idk why it took me over a month to pump this out LMAO but i hope you guys like the ending bc i was mulling over this chapter so many times before deciding to end it as such... anyways, I WILL BE BACK INTO MY BLLK FIC GROOVE HEHE gotta focus on my milestone fics + that ice skating rin series next :3 i love you guys and thanks again for being patient with me ;3

TAGLIST -CLOSED

@celestair @kitorin @popponn @yoisami @anurst @katsukiiishoe @yuzurins @vitaniangel-blog @kunikame @miwafei @astruoise @faeroow @wooasecret @limerence-lu @jaynawayna @iloveblogging2 @futuristicxie @rinlvr @au-ghosttype @wavetokio @yuusami @phtogravi @funnibunneh @idontevenknow129 @startaee @darthvada @livelaughloveisagiyoichi

#blue lock #bllk #blue lock imagines #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #doobea writing #reo mikage x reader #reo mikage #DAYTIME SHOOTING STAR - REO MIKAGE #bllk reo #reo x reader #mikage reo x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock x female reader #BYE THIS IS THE FINALE WHOO #why did this take me forever idk #what started out as a mini thing turned into long words uh oh #time to refocus on that rin ice skating thing...

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cuteskunkz · 28 days

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╭──────────.★..─╮

One Night With You

╰─..★.──────────╯

(Mike Schmidt x Reader)

Summary~ Mike is a very touch starved man. He spends all his nights at work and the daytime caring for Abby if not sleeping. He hadn't been with a girl since his junior year, making him feel like a total loser. The amount of times where Mike went back and forth with his inner thoughts, convincing himself that he was the problem was getting pretty intense and it was clear that he just needed a night out to clear his mind and prove those thoughts wrong.

You've been a "dancer" for the past few months at the downtown strip club, just trying to make ends meet. There was a tough competition working against you. You were new to this line of work whereas the other girls had been in the game for a while now, but you kept pushing on desperately. How else were you going to make rent or keep the lights on? The nights were slow and building a consistent flow of clientele proved itself to be a challenge, that is until one night when you meet a new guy outside of the nightclub.

Tags~ Stripper reader, Mike is a SIMP!!!, lowkey enemies to lovers but not really, no smut (YET...)

Note~ This took me much longer than I thought since I've been super burnt out of writing lately, but I hope you guys enjoy! As always if there's anything in particular you would like to see in chapter 2, please lemme know

⊱✿⊰

Mike felt confused with the lack of responsibilities and errands to run on this warm summer night. Abby was off at a sleepover and Steve finally hired a second night shift worker, leaving him all alone with his reoccurring self doubt introspections. Dude gets one night for himself and simply cannot think of a single thing to do to pass the time. He laid there in his bed tossing and turning unable to fall asleep. He jolts up feeling frustrated with himself, "Ughh... just fall asleep already bro..." He shifts around in his bed and grunts, "I can't do this-". He sits up and sulks his way into the living room, plopping down on the couch. Mike pulls out his phone and begins to scroll.

He isn't really the social media type but had made an anonymous instagram account a while ago for mindlessly scrolling. After what seemed like hours, Mike stumbles across a video of you. You were practicing a routine for the club, twirling and moving seductively. Mike felt himself grow larger in his pants and put the phone down in shock. He stares up at the ceiling in disbelief, damn you really got him feeling this type of way this quickly? He looks down at his lap and feels helpless. He wrestles with his feelings for a while and ultimately picks his phone back up to look more into you.

He clicks on your account and "researches" a bit. There's multiple videos of you practicing, photos of your skimpy outfits, and the most captivating selfies he's ever seen. One of your posts has a location tagged in the top corner, "Deja Vu Showgirls". He looks further into the club, finding that it's not too far from the pizzeria. "Fuck it. Why not..." he whispers to himself. Mike ensures he's well groomed for the occasion. if you're there he wants make a good impression. He showers, dresses in the best outfit he can come up with, and slaps some product in his hair. He finally felt content with his appearance and hopped in the car.

You weren't surprised to see another night play out typically. Maybe 2 or 3 cheap lap dances and a couple short sets up on the stage for less than 50 bucks. This clearly isn't working for you, at this point you've spent more on outfits and shoes than you've made while working here. An older gentleman walks up to you reeking of alcohol and cheap cologne, you couldn't help but gulp at the thought of providing your services for him. Yeah you were a stripper but you still had standards that made doing your job successfully hard at times.

"Well aren't you something?" he slurs while damn near tipping over from intoxication. You sigh and snap into your persona. "I'd hope so, this outfit ain't cheap y'know!" you reply in a flirtatious tone. You grab him by the hand and lead him to a booth, preparing for the worst. He starts groping on your sides which makes you shudder. Maybe this place isn't for you after all. "H-hands off baby.... Use your eyes and focus on me" you redirect with confidence. Times like these made you wish someone could just scoop you off your feet and save you.

He drives to the location with his heart pounding out of his chest. He'd never been to strip club before so Mike felt nervous even making his way closer to where you have the slightest chance of being at. He pulled into the parking lot and shut his car off abruptly, taking deep breaths to calm his nerves. "What if she isn't here? I don't even know the girl why am I acting so fuckin' weird about this.... I really need to get out of the house more" he thinks to himself while gripping onto the steering wheel. After a few mental pep talks to himself, he finally musters up the courage to get out and make his way in.

Just as he goes to push the door to the club open, you storm out with eyes welling with tears. Mike stumbles back a bit not wanting to startle you. You're holding your pricey Pleaser heels in hand, walking barefoot and trying your best to keep it together. All you want is to curl up into a ball and quit at life. You thought that creepy dude would cheap out on a dance, not grope and hurl insulting names at you for rejecting his advances! You look up from the ground and lock eyes with a man you've never seen before. He's cute... too cute to be wasting his time at some dingy place like this.

"Can I help you?" you snap at him with a shaky voice. It was hard not to notice the concerned look on his face. "No I'm-" he stutters before you promptly cut him off. "Leave me the fuck alone then." His face goes pale hearing you say this, he didn't even get a chance to meet you yet and he feels as if he already blew it. You pace towards your car and pop the trunk, filling it with the all the contents of your locker. You pick a T-shirt out of your duffle bag and drape it over your revealing outfit. His presence is burning a hole into your back so you swiftly turn around to meet his gaze.

He walks over slow and bashfully. There's a pink tint to his cheeks and he can't keep his hands still out of anxiousness. "Dude are you good?" you ask. He looks as if he's going to break a sweat, "Yeah... I'm good. Are you though? You looked pretty shaken up back there." You assumed he was just another guy looking to get lucky with a dancer after a shift change. "Look, if you want to get some action, walk your ass into the club. I'm not who you're looking for" you reply. His stomach drops hearing your voice. It was one thing to see you for the first time, but to hear your voice even if it be out of anger made Mikes head spin. He didn't want to sound like a complete creep stalking you out to your job for a closer look but you were exactly who he wanted.

"That's not why I'm here. Fuck- look... To be totally honest, I'm not a strip club type of dude. I just- I saw a video of you on instagram and I was- y'know... impressed by your talent and beauty." Typical response coming from a man trying to bring a stripper home for the night you think to yourself. "I'm not shocked by your reaction. You realize that's what I hear like- 10 times a night, right?" you say with a sarcastic tone. He seemed a bit more genuine with his words than the others but men will do and say anything when they're in need of a quick fuck. "Not that type of girl sir. Try one of those cheap hookers down the road" you point down the street and close the trunk.

"Please... I know how this sounds, believe me I know how dudes are but-" He sighs and continues, "But I don't have a lot of experience with girls so- I thought coming here... to meet someone new would help" he says looking very serious, almost to the point of desperation. If he weren't so damn handsome you'd turn him down in a heartbeat but something in you is screaming to give him a chance. He seems to be telling the truth and damn is he starting to fluster you with the whole innocent act. "Fine. I'll give you my number but don't you dare think about blowing my phone up." You scribble your phone number into his palm with a pen from your bag and blow him a kiss while getting in your car to drive away.

Mike smirks and waves at you, watching you drive off into the distance. "That was easier than I expected...huh..." he whispers. He gets back into his car and texts you, already so eager to see you again. The message reads:

Hey it's Mike, the guy from earlier. You doing anything tonight? I could take us out to a bar or something? :)

His cheeks start to blush again from imagining you two hanging out. He desperately craves a deeper connection with you but doesn't want to come off as too interested off the bat, it could scare you off for all he knows! His phone dings and he reads it:

Shitttt I'm free as long as you're gonna be on your very best behavior!!

⊱✿⊰

It might take me a bit to get part two posted, but I'll try to give you guys as many updates as possible!!! Keep in mind I am a new writer. This is my third fic put out so far :))

#josh hutcherson #mike schmidt #mike schimdt fanfic #mike schmidt x you #fnaf movie #josh futturman #josh hutcherson smut #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt x reader #peeta mellark #jhutch #fanfic #burn 2019 #billy burn #Spotify

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zhongrin · 2 years

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i store the memories of you in a locked box

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, xiao, kazuha, al haitham

◇ tags ◇ word vomit, very abstract

◇ a/n ◇ literally me keeping a note and just jotting down what reminded me of them.

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

reading books with rain pitter-pattering outside. hand kisses before you leave the house. petrichor and licorice. stopping by to listen to an erhu performance on a bustling subway station. the soft tinkling of gemstones against each other. clean pressed laundry. glittering topaz. a beautiful bird’s feather. a crowded cafe and yet nobody exists but you two as you give each other your undivided attention. freshly brewed osmathus tea. “dearest, i ran you a bath.”. waking up at dawn. low humming of an old nostalgic song. the sound of liquid trickling into a teacup. gold and amber. golden rings. reading glasses. the slow taps of fingertip against a desk. comfy leather armchairs. long strolls along the night beach. relaxed walk within the city in daytime. a lover’s embrace. walking arm-in-arm. gentle hand tucking stray hair to its rightful place. low chuckles. controlled, amused laughter hidden behind gloved hand. ‘disappointed but not surprised’ stare. polished shoes and immaculately pressed suits. hidden tattoos. sincere and straightforward declaration of love. “thank you for coming into my life.”

forehead kisses. the howling wind in a thunderstorm. the chilling breeze after the rain. bright moon in the starless night sky. the smell of hair dye. the sound of flute in the distance. the tick-tocks of an analog watch. cracked and imperfect jades. two sides of the same coin. “how are you this cute?”. exasperated sighs. amused chuckles. the embarrassment that hits after a particularly unexpected snort. dark undereye circles. sleeping until noon. taking catnaps throughout the day. forgetting to eat for 8 hours. watching over each other. silent footsteps around the house. piggyback carries. fuzzy blankets. pretending to not notice the other is crying and lending a shoulder to cry. the slowly rising steam of a hot drink. restless nights. lazy mornings. lazy afternoons. when it’s sunny out but cool inside as the sunlight filters in through the glass onto the spot you’re cuddling on. secretly exchanged looks. jade bracelets. field of flowers. “you are my sun.”

morning breeze coming in through the open window. the orange hue of sunset. whistling a tune. raspy good mornings. a stretch of a grassy field. jasmine flowers. soft laughs. falling asleep against each other on airport lounges. subtly exchanged knowing glances and smiles. the sound of paper turning. kissing each other’s scars. temple kisses. a relaxing bubble bath. making your own bath bombs. aimless strolls. hiking the small hill behind your house. camping. forest. stargazing. fingers intertwined around each other. well-used and tattered sneakers. “will you grant this humble servant the honor of escorting you, my liege?”. surprise kisses. soft lips on the back of your palms. packing a suitcase. spontaneous adventures. the smell of a new city. the art of reading analog maps. drunken confessions. finding new selfies of each other on your phones. beachside walks. “in you, i found my home.”

smell of parchment. yellowed pages of a book. dewdrops. “i’m glad we ran into each other.” quill pen against paper. morning sun touching the blades of swaying grass. warmth of fire against the cool night air. the various textures of leaves. black coffee. coffee stains. aromatic spices. crisp colognes. ocean breeze. the glint of a blade. sound of water rippling. hidden ravines and waterfalls. muffled music through headphones. reading books while holding hands. reading the same book while cuddling. wordlessly flipping to the next page because you know he’s finished reading. relaxed sighs. exasperated sighs. tree branches crunching under your feet. piggyback rides. forehead flicks. a steadily growing collection of plants. silently watching cityscape at night. sound of campfire. “you’re a book i never want to finish reading.”

ps. if you want to be removed/added from the taglist, just send an ask!

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #rin writes #zhongli #zhongli x reader #xiao #xiao x reader #kazuha #kaedehara kazuha #kazuha x reader #al haitham #al haitham x reader

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unbizzarre · 5 months

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Byerly Vorrutyer Character Designs

BYERLY VORRUTYER of Lois McMaster Bujold’s Vorkosigan Saga

Tried to go for a rapidly-aging prettyboy with the gothic heavy lidded eyes (idk how to describe the eyes I’m talking about) and a face that reads as male while having something slightly feminine about it. A face that smiles often but is composed, cool. Slightly wavy black hair that is either shortish, chin length, or slightly shorter than shoulder length (I haven’t decided yet 😅)

Designing faces is not my strong suit so I am working backwards from a few references I like. Will probably simplify artstyle, slightly lengthen hair and mix with a dash of Professor Venom from OK KO (for that little bit of haggard twink energy) to creat the final design.

References:

Wardrobe:

Materials: silk, velvet, ruffles lace, detailed embroidery, military piping, sheer cloth, fur — echoes of beautiful luxurious handmade traditional artisan clothing- but all a little to gaudy and cheaply produced - the barrayaran aristocrat version of fast fashion. Androgynous and galactic styles occasionally thrown in to add to mystique

-SHIRTS: silk shirts // shirts with poofy or frilly sleeves // patterned shirts // sheer shirts // velvet shirts // shirts that are tucked in the pants but so unbuttoned the entire chest exposed

- SUITS: velvet suits that absolutely reek of cologne // sleezy yet sharp barreyaran style black suits you might smoke a cigar or play pool in // pastel suit for daytime garden parties

WARDROBE ACCENTS

- bigass fur coat - maybe even almost a midieval king robe

- several offensively knock off fast fashionmilitary style jackets

- luxuriously patterned bathrobe

- see through shawl / wrap / night robe thing

- some gaudy galactic style outfits

- a few sexy or frilly dresses to piss off the family

- a few a casual / slightly more subdued blend of komarran, barrayaran and practical galactic clothing he only really wears at home (stuff he wears when he’s not preforming for an audience). maybe some sentimental pieces. What’s hidden beneath the camouflage.

- some bling: rings and earrings. A few broaches and cuff links probably not that many necklaces

EDIT: here are some reference collages I put together! Note that these references aren’t the exact items that he would have in his closet but rather there are aspects to each piece that I would want to incorporate into his design. Maybe it’s the cut of a sleeve, the silhouette of a coat, the way a robe drapes, the embroidery pattern on some fabric, or the general partied-too-hard vibes of a particular photo of a model.

Bastardized military jackets:

Neglige options / heavier nightfrobe options:

Bigass fur coat:

Shirts (please ignore the long blue scarf in the central image like wtf is that- the rest of the suit is nice tho):

Party vibes:

A lot of these aspects would then be mixed with my own head cannon for the rules/cuts of barreyaran mens clothing (I went to a library and spent a stupid insane amount of time looking through books with midieval, 1800s and 1900s men’s fashions and France, Russia, and Greece- + additional books of traditional folk clothings and textile patterns + several other books of historic military uniforms…. The process and choices were so long that I had to give up and just stop thinking about any sort of vorkosigan related character design for a couple months cuz my head hurt. - I will probably make another post at some point with more annotated collages and possibly some of my own drawings synthesizing the concepts, but uh not right now because I need a nap just thinking about trying to organize it all.)

If you’d like to see a little more of vorkosigan universe costume imaginings here’s my Pinterest board on it (kinda) https://pin.it/2rOoHsq it’s a extremely disorganized and from early hyperfixation days so none of my fashion history research stuff is there (cuz that was all physical book stuff) but uh, you can look at it if you want.

P.S.

If you have any feedback or critiques on the design so far, or ideas for how you think By should look, let me know! I love hearing other people’s interpretations 😊.

Photos of faces you think look like By, pictures of outfits that feel Byerly-ish, or direct quotes from the books about his demeanor or appearance are also welcome!

@starfishlikestoread it’s been approximately a thousand years but I’m finally getting around to that Byerly fanart! Hope you enjoy 😅

#vorkosigan saga #lois mcmaster bujold #scifiart #fanart #character design #wardrobe #costume design #Byerly Vorrutyer #art #long #long post

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honeypipin · 5 months

Text

Atlas

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(Disclaimer, this is my first time writing , so I hope you enjoy! FYI: AFAB reader bc I do not know how to write for AMAB, and wouldn't want to mess it up by writing something inaccurate + little bit of König perving, and it'll probably get worse in later chapters, so you've been warned 👍👍)

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Adjusting

You were next in line for demonstration. You watched Vicki skip and leap and jump with little effort and already knew you would not get the same cheers. That is, until she landed a bit too heavy on her foot. Her bones snapped back at her, the crunching sound made us all flinch- Vicki herself included, then she screamed, and sobbed with fat tears running down her reddening face. Beatrice- her mother- ran to her immediately, trying to soothe her, yourself included.

No one really knows how it got in, but you swear you heard a window crack whilst trying to help Vicki back on her feet. A rush of black smog smothered your vision, shrieks and shouts deafened your ears, the only thing you could make out was something coming towards you, you put your back to the thing and held Vicki tight. If someone should survive this, it should probably be her, you thought.

Everything went black, then it wasn’t, then it was brown, the same wood of the floor you were about to do your routine on. You clumsily stood up, still dizzy and looked around... It was bright? The gymnasium filtered in the same cloudy grey light from earlier, you might almost think you had just woken up from some dream.

Except the carcasses surrounding you felt like something from your nightmares.

Everything bloody, a rotten stench hung in the air, your citron cologne did little to cover it- almost threw up then and there. The only thing stopping you was the sound of a baby’s crying. Not even two steps away from you was a certain blond baby that looked quite familiar. With a certain pair of blue eyes that brought you back your early childhood spent outside in a field. The lack of another carcass that could look similar to her meant only one thing. This baby had to be Vicki, and you couldn’t even give her back to her mother since her half-destroyed corpse was five steps to the left of you. When you finally looked Beatrice in her dulled eye, you threw up, and fell to your knees.

That was your first encounter with a "cryptid". After a while, the world somewhat adjusted to them, thicker windows, never go out at night, never let out a strong negative emotion in a place that something could get in - which was basically everywhere, so that was impossible. If you let the light on in a house and didn’t close your brand-spanking-new mandatory shutters, you would be dead. But otherwise, you adjusted. In the daytime it was ok, if anything there were some positives, like now the only crime that’s really popular is stealing, since too many people died to even keep count of them all. At least you have something new to keep you entertained.

Your neighbour. Your very mysterious, so so sweet, incredibly strong and tall and probably handsome neighbour. Fredrick has only been kind to you, even if as a mercenary he has to deal with cryptids almost every night, he is nothing but a saint. Taking your bins out on the days that you forgot, taking care of your deliveries when you’re taking Vicki to her nursery, and the only thing he has ever asked you for, was to borrow some coffee from you - nothing else.

He was so tired the other day, and when you had come over for my package that you had missed again, you could make out the bags underneath his eyes, and the growling of his stomach made it pretty clear that he was running on empty.

“Ach, sorry, my fridge broke last night, so I could not get myself any breakfast yet.” You take the package from his hands, and looked up to his eyes. Gorgeous eyes.

"You've had no breakfast yet?"

“Em.. ja…”

“I made a bit too much omelette earlier… would you like to come over and have some?”

“I couldn’t bother you like that-“

“It’s no bother! It’s the least I could do for saving my deliveries all the time.”

“If you insist.”

“I do”

He sighed, then you think he smiled at you, it’s hard to make out his expression with that weird t-shirt mask thing he always wears. “Then I will”

“Great!” You felt yourself beaming at him, waited for him to lock the door to his house, and walked over to your own, you look way too happy to be leading some 6’10 guy to your house.

He ducks under the door frame, and after your direction, walks over to the dining table and takes a seat. His stomach growls again.

“Pardon.” He looks a bit embarrassed again, and god save me if that isn’t a great look on his eyes then everything else would be too.

“Don’t worry, It’ll be gone soon.” You hand him his plate of omelette and toast, he told you before that he wasn’t allergic to anything, so you really hope that you haven’t picked something he doesn’t like.

He stared at the plate, then you, then plate, you, you, you. Oh. Right. His mask.

“Would you like me to turn around?”

“No it’s ok… may I have a fork please?”

Shit. Embarrassing. Of course he wouldn’t need you to turn around he’s a grown man he needs a fork, idiot, get him a fork.

“Um, here. Hope you like it”

“Thanks”

And he is eating that- wow, he is eating that very fast, even for one hand he’s eating fast. Holding his mask away from his face with one hand - still covering his face though, and practically inhaling the food on the fork in the other, swapping between fork and buttered toast every few bites. I think he likes it.

I think he really likes it, because he is done in minutes, happily gulping down the orange juice you gave him, and gives you a very satisfied look.

“Thank you, that was delicious.”

Really? Wasn’t sure if you scarfing it down meant you hate it or not, I think you almost jumped for joy watching someone enjoy your food that much

“I’m glad you liked it.”

You flashed him a small smile and took his plate to put in the dishwasher.

“Of course I did, haven’t eaten an omelette that good since my Oma used to cook for me.”

“Aw, thank you!”

“You are welcome.”

“Would you like to come over later for lunch too?”

The next few thoughts in your head went something like this: what the hell, why am I acting so forward, this guy definitely thinks I’m being a weirdo, why am I so dumb??

“Ach, es tut mir leid, aber I am due to work in an hour, so I must pass”

“Oh… too bad, if you’re ever hungry later on, don’t hesitate to come over, I know Vicki would be happy to have a new person to chat with.”

He chuckles and God.

That was a heavenly noise.

“I will keep that in mind.”

He pauses

“What time is it now?”

“Um, 11:46, why?”

“46?! I will be late to work!”

“Oh! Oh no! That’s you off then, right?”

“Ja, it is, thank you again for the food.”

“No worries, see you tomorrow!”

He sped off down the hallway and out of the house, the familiar sound of his car got quieter and quieter as he drove further away.

And that was that.

The rest of the day was normal. Pick up Vicki from nursery, make your dinners, listen to Vicki’s day, help her with her reading, put her to bed, give her a goodnight’s kiss on the forehead and then go to sleep. Actually double check every lock and window, then go to sleep. Having your old best-friend as your daughter may sound really weird and difficult - and while it may be really weird, and you’ll never be like her mother or her father and you’ll always cling to the old pictures and memories you have of the old her - it’s not that difficult, it’s certainly nice to see little her again too, and she was always a sweet child, it would never be difficult.

Fredrick - or as he is better known in his company - König was now reading through some paperwork, or atleast, that’s what some recruit would think he was doing. In reality they weren’t even getting read.

In reality, he was thinking about you. Laugh, smile, hair, eyes, anything, you name it, he was thinking about it, how could he not? His lovely neighbour who always smiled so kindly at him whenever they saw him. Lovely neighbour who was kind enough to invite him to dinner but work wouldn’t let him. Lovely neighbour that looked gorgeous bringing their child to school, leaving König staring dumbfounded, and wondering how on earth there was not a father around for that happy child.

It was insanity how often he would think about you.

He felt shameful in the mornings that he could only think of you, your smiles, what you would sound like under him, on top of him, what you would look like holding onto his hand whilst he was thrusting into you, the gasps he knew you would make when he would put his tongue into your mouth, he was a terrible, terrible pervert. He knew he was, but he couldn’t help thinking about you! You were just too perfect how could it be his fault? Even if he knew you were never to blame, that it would only ever be his fault, he couldn’t help it. Even after he had came, he would think about how warm and gentle your embrace would be, how good you would smell after being so well-deservingly loved by him, you would definitely chuckle or giggle at the kisses after, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He could already feel his trousers straining again until someone interrupted his train of thought.

“Sir.”

“…Horangi, what is it?”

“Large concentration of cryptids down town, you are being called, sir.”

“Understood. At ease. You may leave, I will join you in 5 minutes.”

“Yes, sir.”

With a curt nod, Horangi had left. After half the military got wiped out thanks to those cryptids, mercenary groups had now joined with the army, along with that, König had gotten a peculiar promotion, Colonel. Despite him and Horangi being equals previously, now they were colonel and subordinate, a status he would never get used to, though if you liked the extra money he got, he wouldn’t mind.

He stood up, readjusted his pants, prayed no one would notice and this would just go away and headed down to transport, ready to start his night as a glorified, bloody janitor.

#König #könig modern warfare #könig cod #könig call of duty #könig x reader #könig mw2 #lovethatsexyman #cryptid!könig

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prettyboypistol · 6 months

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Across Enemy Lines || TF2 Sniper/Spy 18+

[BDSM] [D/S relationship] [Powerbottom Spy/Needy Top Sniper] [Cigarette Play] [Pain Play] [brief knife play]

Sniper’s hands shook as he reached towards the door handle. He knew it was unlocked. Spy said it would be, as long as he was quiet in the late hours of the night. Mick swallowed a building of nerves as he finally opened the door.

“I assume you were interested then?” Spy murmured from his chair, whiskey in one hand and a fancy cigarette worth more than Sniper’s camper in the other. Sniper felt his teeth grit inside his mouth as he tried to step inside the smoking room and not trip over himself when he heard Spy’s voice.

Sniper nodded as he felt the sweat bead at his brow.

“If I may ask, why? Of course, as the only other homosexual-adjacent man in this damn warzone, I assume there is a level of desperation.” Spy questioned, his expression seemed far more out of smug curiosity- as if he already knew the answer. “I know you’re allowed out of the base fairly often for jobs, so why risk something so close?”

“I need you.”

The quick answer caught Spy off guard, but the poise was quickly recovered. “Oh? Why me? Mundy, I have stabbed you multiple times. Are you some sort of sick masochist?” Spy knew the sly usage of Sniper’s last name was a mild threat against the man, but he had to gauge the reaction of his potential hatefuck of the night. Sniper bit the inside of his cheek and refused to answer, which told Spy more than what he needed to know.

When Sniper cleared his throat and shifted his weight, Spy stood up and approached his daytime enemy. He thanked whatever god above that Sniper had the decency to shower before he came over and he did not have to turn away such an opportunity due to grime and grit. It even smelled as if he put on some sort of cologne, even if the price was evident in the scent.

“At least you put in effort.” Spy shrugged as he looked Sniper up and down. Still in his uniform, there were points docked for that. Although, Spy had to admit that, if he had the chance to dress the scraggly man up, he would heavily consider a shade similar to that red. “Did you prepare yourself?”

“Uh- yeah. Yeah . I did.” Sniper managed to say as a blush creeped up his neck and blossomed over his cheeks. “Did everything you asked me to.”

Spy paused for a moment, then rolled his eyes and handed his cigarette to Sniper. “Jesus, this is a hookup, not an interrogation.” He assured as he walked back to his plush seat, with a vague gestured hand to the other chair to the opposite of the intable, Spy spoke up again. “Sit down! Relax a bit. I’m not going to stab you tonight.”

The shuffle to the other seat was downright pathetic, but not pathetic enough for Spy to shove Sniper out the door where he came from. Spy had to admit, it was rather cute to see such a stoic and quiet guy as nervous as that! An unheard mumble caught Spy’s attention.

“Oui? Qu'est-ce que tu as dit?” //Yes? What did you say?//

A moment of silence passed, then Sniper spoke, his voice low and hushed.

“J-J'ai dit que je le souhaitais… S'il te plaît?” //I said I wanted it… please?//

The response in mis-pronounced but textbook correct French was a surprise to Spy, but a welcome one.

“Now, where did you learn that from, hmm?” The tone Spy held was painfully amused and a tad too smug for Sniper’s liking.

Sniper coughed and looked the other way as he took a drag of the cigarette.

“Uh, picked it up here and there for odd jobs. ‘M not fluent or anything… I’d call myself academically passable, but I dunno a word you usually say.”

“So you don’t know colloquial French?”

“Nope.”

Spy stood up and took his cigarette from Sniper to take a hit, he noted how Sniper’s eyes followed his every move as he breathed, the cigarette delicately between his lips.

“Tragically for you, I’m not interested in knifeplay tonight, you ruffian. Even if it’s on you.”

“That’s fine, yeah.”

“Any other kinks I should know about, bushman?”

Sniper fell silent. In the quiet, he bit his lower lip and stared at the pristine carpeted floor.

“If you’re not going to talk then-”

“I like bein’ submissive.”

“That’s more like it.” Spy smiled, a foxly mischief in his expression. “Now mon beau, I’m sure you like more than just that. If you don’t tell me, I can just order you to.”

Sniper felt this chest flutter, much like a violin string. Tight and taut, Spy’s voice was the bow that made his core vibrate in the most jittering of ways. He was excited. He was flighty. He needed more.

“You’re a spy, why don’t’cha read me like a book?” Sniper sassed, his usual personality back in full force. The denial was enough to irk Spy into knocking the hat off Sniper’s head and to grab Sniper by the hair.

“You listen here you son of a bitch, you will give me respect in this room. I invite you out of the goodwill of my heart and you will not take that for granted, is that clear?”

The speed at which Sniper’s pupils blew wide churned deep in Spy’s chest. The Aussie tried to nod, but whimpered at the pain of Spy’s tight grip in the roots of his hair.

“Yea- Yes sir.” Sniper quickly corrected himself as his eyes frantically tried to drink in all of Spy. The indignant look of disgust, the perfect fabric that hugged Spy in a way that only good money could buy, the way Spy breathed that cigarette that cost more than Sniper’s life as if it were second nature. The huffs of his breath were ragged, low, and gently vibrating in Sniper’s throat.

“Now, I believe I asked you a question, boy.”

“I like bein’ tied up sir.”

“What else?”

“Bein’ talked down to. Pushed around. A bit of bullying, sir.”

“And a masochist too? Really, no wonder you came to me. At least you learn quickly.” Spy halfheartedly praised as he seemed unimpressed.

Spy released Sniper and laid down calmly on the bed. “If you can manage to keep yourself from wetting your pants from excitement, strip.”

The way Sniper stumbled and frantically tried to pop off his shoes and undo all the buttons of his shirt. His breath fluttered like a tight vibrato; light, quick, and dizzying. The scars piqued Spy’s interest briefly but his eyes quickly swam away to watch the smoke patterns as he exhaled. Although, the calm stillness of Spy and the sloshing rapid of Sniper was quite the duality.

“I didn’t say to keep the undergarments.”

“Sorry- uh, sir.”

Spy seemed pleased with how Sniper obeyed so quick. Yes, a bit of brat taming was fun, but not tonight. The swirling of arousal mixed itself in Spy’s body as Sniper stood in front of Spy, already well over half-mast.

“Sir, can I?” Sniper asked, his tone a beg as he looked at Spy like a starving man. “Please?”

“Come along now, bring the condom too.”

Sniper approached the bed as if he was a sinner on holy ground. Reverently, he moved to sit upon the side of the bed and awaited further instruction.

“Take off my shoes and undo my pants, if you can resist the temptation.” Spy ordered flippantly as he took another breath from his cigarette.The dripping of building lust was far from intoxicating to Spy, but as he watched his favorite daytime enemy delicately undo the laced shoes with more grace than he had ever seen Sniper portray, Spy couldn’t help but allow himself to feel whirls of pride and egotism.

“What do you want, mon beau?”

“Whatever you want to give me.”

“Tell me.”

“Hurt me. Please.”

A slap rang out when Spy struck Sniper’s cheek, leather hit soft skin. The gasping shudder that Sniper breathed out as the pain bubbled up from the initial hit rippled through his body as Spy repeated the gesture on the opposite cheek.

Spy leaned closer to Sniper and bit into his shoulder, once, twice-! Sniper let out a small whimper of pain as Spy sucked a hickey into him.

“Say ‘June’ if I go too far.” Spy mumbled into Sniper’s ear, clearly and honestly.

“Right, gotcha.” Sniper responded, his needy air dissipated momentarily to assure to Spy that he was in a right state of mind.

As Spy pulled back, he adjusted the aviators on Sniper’s face, an unamused expression fell to him. “Ah, did you forget these?”

“Sorry sir, lemme-”

“No no, keep them.”

The seconds of slow movements felt like hours to the flutteringly impatient Sniper. His heart raced a million miles an hour, his breath was desperate to give his body enough oxygen to function. The thrumming need of ecstasy of merely being treated in such a way played Sniper, and with Spy behind the bow, Sniper knew Spy would play him like a violin too.

“What?” Spy hummed after he barely caught what Sniper said. “Really now, we need to work on that mumbling problem of yours.” He said before he struck Sniper’s face again. “Speak properly.”

“Please hurt me more, sir.”

Spy rolled his eyes. “Isn’t this enough, you masochist? Getting your face beaten, naked in front of your enemy?”

Sniper shivered in pleasure.

“God, you like being talked down to, I forgot. I could ignore you right now and you could get off, couldn’t you?” Spy cooed, no trace of affection in his eyes. Sniper bit his lower lip, with every word Sniper’s erection seemed more and more interested. “Fucking pathetic.”

“Sir please-”

“You are in no position to be asking anything of me, needy whore.”

Spy grabbed his butterfly knife from the nightstand and pressed the blade against Sniper’s neck, the pressure agonizingly not enough. “Would you get off to this too, bushman? Who am I kidding, you would stain my suit if I pressed any harder.”

“Yes sir, I’m sorry sir.” Sniper whimpered. Spy retracted the knife with his usual flair before the knife was placed back on the nightstand.

“Put the condom on, I already did the preparation. I don’t know where your hands have been.” Spy ordered, to which Sniper hurriedly obeyed.

Sniper opened up the condom swiftly, eager to please. God, that smug smile on Spy’s face made Sniper’s blood boil usually. Tonight though, the smile was a promise, a whispering of sadistic pleasure that Sniper could find nowhere else. Sniper’s cock ached, begging in its own right to have any sort of friction. Upon Spy’s denial, Sniper frowned as he was forced to wait slowly.

“Oh, another thing. If you get soft or cum, I’ll kick you out immediately.” Spy threatened as he sucked the smoke into his lungs from his cigarette. A moment passed, where Sniper’s eyes met Spy’s.

Then Spy exhaled. Right in Sniper’s face.

Sniper bit his lip and whimpered. The smoke even smelled fancy, goddamnit. Sniper breathed the smoke in, his pupils were blown in maddening lust.

“Oh god, how’d you know?”

“You seemed the type. Now go on, try your best.”

Sniper took no haste to push into Spy in one held breath, he breathed out a low, long “fuuuuck.” as he felt the warm tightness around him. It took everything within Spy not to react. Sniper wanted to be humiliated, so he had to play the part, cock shoved in him be damned.

“You know, you can put more than the tip in. You might be a patient man, but I’m not.” Spy spat as he feigned more interest in his smoke than Sniper.

“It’s… It’s all the way in.” Sniper whispered.

“Really? I couldn’t tell.”

Spy could absolutely tell. Sniper was a decent size and certainly abused the fact that he prepared himself liberally with how tight Spy was stretched. With a twitch that nearly made him gasp as he berated Sniper, Spy rolled his eyes as he tried his hardest to ignore the swirling pleasure that sang like a siren to indulge in like an irresistible wine.

A shaky breath passed before Sniper started to move. God, Spy was tight. Little movements of Sniper, his hips flush against Spy’s thighs nearly broke the already delicate facade Spy held. Nevertheless, the mask stayed on, cold and disinterested as Sniper started to move, biting his lip to muffle the noises of embarrassment. The thrusts soon turned erratic, chasing the high of lust as Sniper groaned and growled as his dick was more than lavished in spoiled pleasure.

“Spy- I-”

A harsh slap to Sniper’s cheek reminded him of Spy’s position over the desperate man.

“Sir, please- I-”

“What could you possibly want, whore?”

Sniper bit his lower lip and screwed his eyes shut, nodding in agreement. A silent beg.

“Cheap, pathetic slut.” Spy purred as he puffed on his cigarette, the ash flaking onto the mattress in specks as Sniper’s thrusts jostled Spy. “How much of a whore do you have to be to come crawling to the enemy team, hmm? Did nobody want to fuck the piss-stained bushman over in RED?”

“Oh god. ”

“What other disgusting kinks do you hide behind that bullshit professionalism? Go on.” Spy demanded, his voice quivering slightly as Sniper brushed against his prostate just right. “Just know that if you say piss I will stab you.”

“No- don’t gotta piss kink-” Sniper stumbled out. “I’ve got a thing for- for suits, sir. I like smellin’ things too.”

Sniper was unceremoniously shoved into Spy’s shoulder, the order was clear enough as Sniper breathed the smell of too-expensive cologne and whiskey. The cigarette smell was a given, but the hints of quality mixed in with the tobacco made Sniper whimper as he used the new position to thrust deeper into Spy.

“Needy whore, I should put you on display, show everyone just how unfit you are to be a mercenary. You already are messy and dirty, imagine how fast you’ll be exposed for fraternizing with the enemy, begging him to demean you no less. Filthy fucking pervert.”

“Sir- I’m not gonna-” Sniper begged as he let his hips shake in uncontrollable desire. “Can I? I wanna ask something.”

“Oh? And what do you want?”

“C-can you put your cig out on the base? God, I’m not gonna last long- please? Please sir, I know it’s fucked up but I wanna be burned by you.”

Spy hummed, thinking tentatively as Sniper haphazardly pumped his cock in and out of Spy, only to pull out, presenting himself to Spy with a breathy wheeze as he jacked himself off, one hand on the headboard above Spy’s head, the other working himself to the teetering edge.

“Please sir, please put your cig out on me.” Sniper whispered.

Who was Spy to not oblige?

The white hot feeling of pubic hair burning, skin screaming in pain, and nerves firing danger signals sent Sniper over the edge with a low growl. The cum that spilled over Spy’s suit stood out horribly well, the off-white glistening against the deep blue. Shaky breaths echoed around Spy’s room for moments that lasted far too long for the rogue’s liking.

“You got your pleasure, now get out of my room. I’m sure you don’t want security to find a RED in such a secure location.” Spy ordered as he hurriedly dabbed the semen stains with his handkerchief.

Sniper nodded with a quick and casual thanks, legs shaking more than they ever should for a grown man as he gathered his clothes to quickly dress and depart.

As soon as the door shut, Spy bit the inner side of his cheek and used the same cloth to jack himself off- god, he deserved an acting award for keeping himself together during that fuck! Sniper was brutal and needy- Spy had never felt more desired! Rocking his hips to the same erratic beats, Spy gasped as his semen mixed with Sniper’s.

Spy was definitely paying Sniper a visit later that week. He wanted to make that stupidly cramped van shake.

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #fanfiction #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #bloody suit #sniper x spy #snipespy #tf2 smut #prettyboy pistol

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gladstones-corner · 2 months

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How about 1, 4, 5, and 7 :D

Hey there! I'll be sending one your way soon too :) hope you're well!

1) if your practice was a cologne/perfume what would it smell like?

This is a tough one--I think it would have to be leather and parchment paper, with a hint of frankincense and myrrh. If you asked me four years ago, I'd have said spearmint with patchouli. Weird combo, but it was a weird time.

4) what’s march look like in your corner of the world?

Another friend asked this one too, it's been unseasonably warm. I really hope things have been relatively normal in your neck of the woods, because we barely had a winter. It was maybe a few weeks in December. But in March the few trees that lost leaves have gotten them back by now, and we're routinely hitting 70 degrees Fahrenheit in the daytime.

5) what’s your craft look like this month? Interpret this how you choose

This month, my craft is about getting in touch with a new current of magic. I've covered my basics this past year, starting from scratch and I feel like I still have to much left to learn. But thankfully, my friends have been supportive and looked to me as their resident magician to help them out through some things. So I suppose my craft this month is about putting my knowledge to good use?

7) what colors are your practice? Interpret this however you like lol

This is another one that another friend asked me. After some thought, I think my answer still stands. Mainly a silvery-purple, fluid in its composition...like mercury or even neon. It's very cool to perceive.

Thank you for the ask! :) hope things are going well for you

#glad answers

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theshoegirldiaries · 2 months

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Night-time scents worn last week, L to R; Anna Sui Fantasia EDT, Christian Dior Lucky EDP (La Collection Privee), Jo Malone Ginger Biscuit Cologne, Moschino Toy 2 EDP, Paul & Joe Refreshing Mist 02 Caramelized Apple and Christian Dior Hypnotic Poison EDT Roller Pearl. One night without as my daytime scent was still strong.

#christian dior #dior #anna sui #paul & joe #paul and joe #moschino #jo malone #perfume #fragrance #pink haired princess #beauty #bbloggers

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mintys-musings · 10 months

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random thought about hiyori, rinne, and kanata as roomies. hiyori maybe has rinne and kanata try diff perfumes and colognes from like PR packages or just as whatever he bought that day. and maybe they all have their scent because of it.

i kinda touched on this in that one soft rinne x reader fic i wrote but he has like this one cologne he gravitates towards. i specifically envisioned toy boy by moschino, but lets be real he's not using that brand specifically unless like hiyori got it for him- it clings to his clothes anyway so whatevs. he uses it like every other day but not a lot. in general, the type of cologne i imagine him using is like... spicy and woody but not overpowering. like warm peppery/nutmeggy? with some very light bergamot in there. it's def the kind of scent that makes you want to bury your face into his chest/neck when he hugs you. comforting and kinda homey

hiyori has all kinds of expensive perfumes and colognes on his vanity ngl. he's the kind of person to coordinate it to seasons/depending on the occassion. his usual daytime scent would be anything more light and like dewy bluebells. if he's going to a lunch meeting, it's green tea scents. maybe something more citrusy. night time, woody cedar/spices/light musk/overall more juicey and full bodied scent. calvin klein has lots of those types of scents. sometimes he'll layer it with cherry scents if he'll be out for a while. in general i imagine him going for brands like la labo, jo malone, tom ford, and juliette has a gun purely because of price point.

kanata doesn't go out of his way to use colognes or perfumes or even body mists. he's constantly dunking himself in water anyway so whats the point. but bc of hiyori encouraging both him and rinne to try diff scents, he'll maybe use cologne during more formal events. i cant imagine he likes anything overpowering, so he'll stick to anything light. there are colognes that are said to smell like the sea but its not the same to him. probably wears summery scents in any season. crisp apple, bamboo, and cedar scents are what he usually goes for the most.

#Minty's Musings #sfw musings #ik the reality of rinne is that he probably smells like a pachinko hall but pLEASE #HEAR ME OUT #his upbringing probs made hin aware of how he carries himself and his own hygiene #please let me indulge myself #i can dREAM...

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squided · 5 months

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If someone ever asked me what makes a perfume/cologne daytime or evening I probably wouldn't be able to come up with anything coherent but if I smell something I'd be able to instantly tell you if it's a daytime or evening scent but I have no idea why

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rexaleph · 6 months

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Fruit pt 1 lmao

Back when I was first getting into perfume my assumptions around what was gonna work for me were in the vein of traditional men's fragrances from like when I was a kid and vague ideas around freshness and perhaps coniferous woods. However I'd come across a discussion of Byredo's Pulp and the way people spoke of it as this super strange, polarising, borderline unwearable art piece got me interested, so I tossed a sample of that into my cart, intrigued but expecting not to get it. Ofc I fell in love instantly. It was in fact the only fragrance I ended up liking out of everything I picked going by vibes and word associations, probably bc all of the others smelled of air freshener for the car. So i was like ok, it's fruit for me now, I am a fruit perfume person, and have looked p widely into that fragrance family since. Fig was always a note i was interested in bc it is allegedly central to Pulp, and its plant-like, soft-green juiciness is attractive to me in concept. However! As i started looking towards shifting my lifestyle away from a million samples and decants into a small number of truly beloved bottles, I came to the realization that the only even fruit adjacent thing I was immediately interested in having in a large volume is the fucking grapefruit cologne from Zara. And they don't even usually count citruses as a fruit! So fruit ended up not being my thing in practice, but the thought of it still haunts me. I feel like there should be a fruit for me out there. So i want to spend some time thinking abt the fruity scents that I've tried and maybe figure out where to go from here. I am about to get deeply weird once again.

So to start at the beginning - Pulp by Byredo.

Byredo is a brand with a deeply unappealing aesthetic. When I picture their bottles it is on a glass and gold tray in an influencer's white interior and that is not something I want to associate myself with. But given that the first perfume I fell in love with was one of theirs, I still pay attention to their line.

So Pulp is a very intense, tart, barely sweet fruit. The haters have often said that the fruit smell is fermented and rotten, but I perceive it to be on the other end of the sour fruit spectrum - green and underripe. It suggests maybe an inedibly hard pear. Another major feature - I keep saying "fruit" without specifying, because I struggle to discern anything particular. People will say apple, blackcurrant, citrus, fig. I do perceive the intense opening blackcurrant and maybe apple. Besides the that I get cedarwood, and i guess that woody-green-sweet effect could be a fig note. Pulp does not feel like it evolves much as it wears, but what it does is first fill the space around itself and then settle within minutes, which I think is a quality created by like carrier molecules. (I know of iso e super, which allegedly improves longevity but that would be the opposite effect i think, though i feel like it's in here as well. What i experience w Pulp feels like theres sth that increases volatility, momentarily dragging scent molecules into the air w it. Or theres just a lot of the cassis top note ingredient and much of it evaporates off quickly.)

This room-filling effect is what brings me to the haters' 2nd point that sticks in my mind: Pulp is less like a perfume for a person to wear and more of a large scale air freshener, not even for your home, but for hotel lobbies and shopping malls. And I think this is how I ended up feeling about Pulp - beautiful scent, but I don't want to wear it. There are other perfumes in this post I consider unperfumelike and don't want to wear for their industrial chemical quality, but those actually smell bad to me. I'm not generally concerned w wearability (outside of like not wearing strong or irritating things where people will be forced close to me), I don't think of perfume in terms of daytime vs evening or seasonality, but there is something about Pulp, however much I like it in theory, that makes it unwearable to me. Like whatever I'm looking to wear, be it sweet, fresh, complex, natural-produce-like, loud - Pulp is never the answer. I think what drew me in at first was it's brightnness and intensity, and how different it was from any perfume i had experienced before. I'm wearing it now and it is still impressive, mostly a powerful, mouthwatering blackcurrant; leaves, berries and wood sap. There's another strong natutalistic plant perfume I love - Vetiver Extraordinaire by Frederic Malle. I tried to articulate the vibe i get from it as "you can't fuck me, I'm a tree". Which, I love that for a cold deciduous tree trunk you can't get your arms around. To me right now Pulp also has a strong you can't fuck me aura, though I used to think of it as insanely attractive (the mouth-watering aspect, confusing different kinds of intense sensuality). But i guess being high-pitched, juicy and ultimately friendly and food-like, this is not the unfathomable remote unfuckability of nature; "you can't fuck me i'm covered in berries" is not sth i want to embody. I used to really love the idea of scent-as-art in a vacuum, but now I probably am more concerned with what a perfume can do to create me as i present myself to the world. That mostly excludes unpolishedly naturalistic plants at this point. (Btw a 20 y o coworker who is just starting to get into perfume told me that someone introduced him to Pulp and he loved it so much! It is a good entry point to unisex niche perfume - beautiful, approachable but characterful, different from most designer scents, especially as marketed to men. I'd probably still it like very much on someone else.)

Having spent 4 notes app pages on Pulp I'll be brief on the fruit shampoo types: Kirke by Tiziana Terenzi, Antigua by Phaedon, Eau de Rhubarbe by Hermes, Sirio by Mendittorosa, I wanna say Cedrat Boise by Mancera. The widely recommended fruity one by Mancera anyway. So turns out banana flavored candy isn't weird bc it's based on an extinct breed, it just uses a single flavor compound out of the bouquet found in real bananas, so the flavor comes off distorted. This is I think what people mean when they use "synthetic" as a criticism in perfume. I assume that for shampoo they mix individually made molecules, which is what causes unnatural-seeming compositions, even if the ingredients themselves aren't in any way worse by being synthetic. All the above fragrances have that screechy, fruit-scented toiletries/household chemicals vibe to me, plus Kirke and Antigua at least have some kinda sickly musk note that I don't get along with. I've also encountered it in a number of of woody-fresh cologne type scents. So these fragrances are all widely beloved (except maybe the Mendittorosa on account of being less well known), I think because of what I outlined with Pulp - they're bright and friendly but still fairly unusual. Common notes i believe are lychee or rhubarb - tart, juicy and sweet, which I guess is what most people look for in this type of fragrance. I'm just particularly sensitive to their type of dissonance. Eau de Rhubarbe i think is the most successful one of these - only inelegant, but for the most part I find them fully unpleasant.

Speaking of unpleasant, let me briefly return to Byredo. Mixed Emotions vs Amouage Jubilation XXV

So after my first unsuccessful run at Amouage with the florals I held off on trying their big iconic scent for years. The way people spoke of Jubilation it's this amazing layered masterpiece of resins, woods and fruit, meant for like distinguished gentlemen. Obviously I never felt like I could pull it off, but earlier this year I decided to have another go at Amouage as well as figure out fruit, so I finally tried it out. And yeah it's alright. I think what I'm realizing is that these niche fragrances massively popular among men are always gonna be on the safe side, but spoken of as hugely transgressive bc they smell a little bit outside of menthol shaving foam. Jubilation is soft, deep, smooth and resinous, with like an overtone of sweet-spicy toothpaste freshness I'd put down to blackberry, orange zest and tarragon. Very attractive, would not feel incongruous on any age or gender, for sure not a mature man kinda scent. I went on two week-long trips within a month in August/September and wore it throughout for like professional and leasure occasions and it never felt out of place, I never wanted for anything else. Dudes online are big mad abt alleged weak reformulations, idk abt that, however I will say it is kinda subtle and I wouldnt pay Amouage money for it.

So given that 15 years ago Amouage came out with this hugely popular cult hit, why would Byredo in 2021 make basically the same thing but worse? Black currant for blackberry and birch smoke and mate for all the woods and resins, Mixed Emotions to me is just a loud, unbalanced version of Jubilation, though idk that i've seen anyone else make the comparison. It's very northern forest, tree sap and berries, which is kind of an obvious combination and doesn't make it feel less heavy-handed. Junk by Lush feels adjacent, which is not a compliment. A recurring review phrase is cough syrup. The fruit is scratchy and cloying, overconcentrated. I kept trying to get myself to like Mixed Emotions, but given that it feels like basically a worse version of something that's just pretty nice but not worth the money, it's probably time to give up on her.

So do I hate a scratchy, cloying preserve-like fruit? Not necessarily.

Mendittorosa Rituale

I am a mark for Mendittorosa. I feel like i can still tell when they really don't work for me, but I probably exaggerate how special the ones i do like are. Anyway.

The vibe is nectar: flowers, blackcurrant, pomegranate, raspberry, honey, beeswax. Its heavy and sweet while having a rough scratchy quality (down to beeswax, patchouli and hyrax I'd guess) that can give gourmands a real kitchen-y feel. Mugler AMen has that imo, as well as El Born by Carner Barcelona, both of which suggest rustic dessert to me. Rituale is not really like them them with its big heady floral and fruit elements but that effect is the same. It's like when you have a very sweet pastry with black coffe. Rituale puts me in mind of traditional desserts that use preserves, honey and rose water in a way that doesnt get along with my modern milk chocolate sour gummy palette, so it is a little bit challenging. Going off the notes alone, I was very excited but also apprehensive about this one, I expected it to be either breathtakingly beautiful or just fully disgusting. Especially lavender can really fuck things up for me when it goes nauseating soapy-sweet potpourri. And some of that is there: i notice the lavender and the whole composition teeters on the edge of sickly, but never quite goes there. The actual flowers throughout its middle stage (rose, jasmine, narcissus, what do daffodils even smell like?) give me this high-summer orchard honey bee fantasy. Raspberry is i think the most prominent opening impression, maybe pomegranate, quickly overtaken by floral honey. That's probably the way to discuss the florals in here - not flowers but the way e.g. linden honey can smell of flowers & pollen. Beeswax is also discernible from the very beginning. As it sits and the fruit recedes it goes from nectar fantasy to complex rosewater dessert while always maintaining that little bit of low-pitched roughness you usually get with honey fragrances, just enough to keep things interesting. It's all a whole lot. The very end is a rounder mellower sweetness, feels like vanilla to my nose, but might be some combination of the woods, resins and beeswax. I wish I perceived more of the hyrax, some people complain about it being crazy animalic and i just don’t get that at all unfortunately. I love dirty animal shit :( On the other hand it already has borderline too much going on.

If Mendittorosa made small beautiful bottles Rituale would be a no-brainer to get. It is a very special combination of rich and opulent while also consisting of what to me reads as basically all food-like botanical notes. Real nectar and ambrosia vibes. Very different from those fresh effervescent unisex fruits, a very cool take on the genre imo. And like, yeah, if I'm so bored of fruits, maybe my one fruit perfume to have should be the one that's unlike any of the others. But even with this one, I'm not sure that I want to smell like this! There is again an air of botanical unfuckability about this one that makes it a little emotionally confusing. Not sure what mood I'd want it for, especially if we're talking about getting a bit expensive bottle. I think I wore it for my 29th or 30th birthday, she's festive and attention-grabbing but doesn't necessarily make me feel attractive. One idea I'm holding out for is that if I tried it from an atomizer instead of the shitty dabbing wand sample and got a more accurate idea of how it wears from the bottle, there would be more hyrax and that'd swing it into something more obviously my style. As is it may or may not be my one fruit but for sure points to some directions to continue thinking in.

Putting here so I don't forget my other fruits to discuss: Un Jardin sur le Nil, Pomegranate Noir, Wilde, Bitter Peach, Peau de Peche. And then the figs.

#perfume #long post #loooooong post lmao #cut it in half so it won't be too annoying to scroll past #and turns out i didn't have notes on any of the others anyway

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