scent of women

To The Haters

Handsome And Lovely Woman Tell Me That I Dont Stink. Stop Telling Me That I Stink And Telling Lies Becaure If You Are Telling Lies About If I Am Stinky Thats Just You Being Haters Becaude You Know Im Cool.

Elmer: “How’se My Scent…”

Handsome And Lovely Women: “Smells Like Not Stinky, Handsome Sweet Smelling Ape Peach Boy.”

Elmer: *Squamches Delightedly*

Her scent… I’d recognize it everywhere. It there was a hundred women in the room and I had to find Her, while being bonded and blindfolded with a thick black robe, I’d still recognize Her. I could tell when She was approaching, even if I couldn’t see Her yet. She smelled like the fresh air on a rainy night entwined with anti-allergic soap, moist earth and cigarette mist.

“I wrote a song for you today.” He had muttered, smiling cheesily while the scent of women’s perfume lingered off of him.

“I can’t wait to hear it” I lie, giving him a small kiss on the lips.

Who is it really written for?


“Sometimes, I really regret marrying you.”

The words slip out of his mouth in a raspy rhythm, the only thing following them being the slam of a wooden door. It seems like the entirety of the house shakes. His voice was quiet, there wasn’t any trace of irrational anger or hate accompanying it. I knew he meant it, and I can’t help but think of myself as troubled for not feeling any sadness after the words are uttered.

For a few moments I stand in the same spot, staring hollowly at the large door and the small glass table that sits next to it. I look around the living room with puffy eyes, staring at the wrinkled white shirt stained with expensive red makeup. The house is large, far too large for me to stay. I was so small compared to the aspirations and the standards someone like him would hold.

“Tell me the truth!” I shout angrily, my hands shakily clutching onto the white fabric as I continue to accuse him. My eyes are beginning to puff up as they are affecting my vision.

“I don’t know why you feel the need to say - no - accuse me of cheating on you! I mean I get that you’re insecure but you’re accusing me of cheating because im pursuing my fucking career y/n!” He bites back. My gaze slowly shifts to the marble flooring as I stare up at him through my dark lashes.


“No, i’m not finished. I’m married to YOU! Do you really think I would be if I wanted someone else? Stop being a delusional fucking child and grow up! Jesus christ!”

My shoulders shake and my chest burns so badly it feels as if I might combust. He’s watching me, staring at me break as he desperately tries to defend his lies.

I wondered whether or not I deserved to be treated this way. I had been warned, continuously told by others that I would never be able to keep up with the lifestyle he lived. I never chose to believe the tabloids, I always chose to stick to the words he would tell me. I now realize that it seemed to be a bad habit.

I walk to the kitchen, brushing my fingertips over the expensive bottles of name brand liquor before grabbing one with a translucent look. I reach for a crystal glass in the tall cabinet, remembering how he would grab it for me when my minimal height wasn’t enough to grab the glass. I slowly fill the glass with the alcohol, wishing to drown out all of the problems in the one-sided relationship.

Was he with her? Probably.

I situate myself on the dining table and the memory of him sitting and enjoying a meal on it seems almost impossible. The only noise that accompanies me is the heavy sound of my labored breathing and the loud T.V in the background blaring from his room upstairs.

Halfway through a glass of crystal liquor is when I begin to hear the soft vibration of my phone lying on the kitchen countertop. I ignore the buzzing and continue to take small sips from the glass in front of me. The glass marble table is made so I can see my own reflection, and it is only then that I feel remorse for myself.

I’ve stopped drinking by now, and the glass seems to fill with the dark pigment of my mascara mixing with my tears and dropping into the cup. I almost feel like laughing as I’m crying, staring at the insane reflection of myself in the table.

This isn’t love

There are posters of him on the wall. From his first world tour, to his 4th. I reminisce on the moment between his 3rd and 4th album, when he had pulled a series of all nighters stressing about the quality of his song. I countlessly remembered his worst moments and the amount of times I had sacrificed all that I loved to be with him. I despised myself for knowing that I would do the same for him now.

I felt like screaming, telling the entirety of Canada about the transition of this marriage. About how their favorite celebrity was nothing more than a lie, about the empty promises his songs held and the number of women blowing up his second phone.  

I stand up, walking up the overabundant amount of stairs and down the hall to his individual bedroom. We didn’t sleep in the same room anymore, as he said that it tampered with his sleep schedule as well as the “creative process” of his music. Looking around, I catch sight of the empty instant noodle cups and half filled sheets of music scattered messily on the high desk. There’s a phone ringing in the center of his bed and I assume it is his second phone as I remember his first being in the pocket of his coat. Does he even care if I know anymore?

I make the decision to grab it, hesitating before I turn it on. I know that it will not matter- that after today he won’t have to speak to me in a legitimate way ever again. I look at the various usernames that have sent him messages, almost surprised at how many girls there were.

Nina, 22, London

Hannah, 25, Vancouver

Kendall, 20, Toronto

I leave his phone faced down as it was, walking over to the mahogany door that is slightly cracked open. I grab a large travel bag from it and haul it down the hallway to my own room.

I begin by opening my closet and hauling in the large amount of clothing that I had in the shelves and drawers. I grab a small duffel bag for all of my appliances, being sure not to leave a single one behind.

I want to make sure he knows I left

As i’m packing my bras into a small compartment, I hear the sound of the door distantly opening and closing. I freeze, slowly walking towards my door and gently opening it. From, the railing of the second floor I can see him sleeping on the couch, distantly hearing the small snores escaping his mouth.

I hurry, grabbing the last of my bras and shoving them all into the suitcase. I rush to zip it up and carry the heavy and overfilled sack of belongings in one hand, the duffel bag in the other. I inch past his silhouette on the couch, only to walk over to his sleeping figure. Just because he didn’t know it was a goodbye, didn’t mean I couldn’t give him one.

He reeks of alcohol and cologne but it seems to be the least of my worries at the moment.

“I love you. I’m so sorry that you had to do this to me.” I kiss his forehead briefly as he shifts a bit and slips his left hand under the pillow. The ring still seems to be present.

I slip the black velvet box with the large diamond ring onto the table in front of the couch.

I love you.

And with salty cheeks and puffy eyes, I leave him behind

Women may love flowers, but only one woman loves the scent of gardenias in late summer that remind hey of her grandmother’s porch. Only one woman loves apple blossoms in a blue cupboard only one woman loves wild geraniums.
—  Six of Crows, Leigh Bardugo
Here, even smells take up space. We once made a meal that called for caramelizing three pounds of onions. For hours the onions melted in their pan. Technically they were taking up less and less space, but somehow they intruded more. In a tiny house, the smell of slowly sweated onions is an inescapable, cloyingly rich aroma; a scent to drive men — and women — mad.

The eau de onion spread to everything. It clung especially to the moist bathroom towels, and to the laundry drying in the bedroom. We were never clean again. Fresh from the shower, we immediately smelled of onions — of tiny house. For weeks, smelling like old onions became one of our micro lives’ certainties.
—  Gene Tempest, “What No One Ever Tells You About Tiny Homes”. The New York Times (2 June 2017).


Story Summary: The McCall pack finds a women unconscious in the middle of the woods and breaks her back to Scott’s house, upon waking up the pack finds out she isn’t human and so isn’t Stiles!

Chapter summary: McCall pack finds a strange women in the woods and breaks her to Scott’s house and she wakes up reveling to not be human but also revels that their friend stiles who they thought were a human might not be so human after all.

Warning: twilight crossover, mentions of different species of werewolves, alpha/beta/omega mention

Paring: Stiles x Mother figure! Reader,
McCall Pack x Reader


She ran through the woods, away from the cold ones, away from her dead family, away from Forks. She didn’t know how long she had been running but by the time she reached the next state over she was beyond tired.

Her tired body slumped against an old tree, it’s leafs surrounding the tree, she slid down against the old wood of the tree and sat down onto the ground.

Memories that will haunt her all her life replayed over and over in her head, the way the cold one ripped apart her family while they were at their annual campfire meeting. They were ambushed which meant that the cold ones could of been watching them from afar or for a while then.

But why couldn’t she smell them?

Why couldn’t any of them smell their scents?

Was it hidden or did these cold ones just hadn’t have any scent?

The young women felt her mind and body starting to slowly shut down, she was falling asleep. But what if the cold ones followed her here to beacon hills.

She couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer, and slowly she fell unconscious into a deep sleep. Her body repairing the damage it had gone through.


“I know it’s out here, I can smell it.” Scott said.

His pack of friends followed close behind him looking around the woods. They all could smell the hunt of blood in the air, expect for Stiles and Lydia, it was strong and sweet and had a bit of an sour smell too.

“Could it be a dead animal Scott?” Lydia asked walking beside her Stilles.

“I’m not sure Lydia but whatever it is, it’s close.” Scott said now covering his noise.

Suddenly Scott stopped walking the pack soon following right after, in front of them lied a female. Maybe in her early 20s, she wore a white dress which had ruffles at the top and on the bottom of it along with an red cloak that covered her figure.

Her feet were bare and dirty and she was covered in blood. Some looked as if it was splashed across her face and clothing.

Her feet had dry blood underneath it which was mixed with the dirty.

“What the hell.” Scott whispered.

“She’s still breathing.” Malia said pressed her hand against the female’s

“What happened to her?” Lydia asked her eyes filled with pity while she hugged her arms staring down at the women.

Scott looked around the woods for a few seconds before bending down and picking up the women pulling her body close towards his, “I don’t know Lydia but whatever happened it couldn’t have been good.”

Unknowingly to the pack Stiles eyes flashed a bright blue while they walked back to Scott’s house.


The girls had changed and washed the women up, changing her into a t-shirt which belonged to Scott and a pair of sweatpants Stiles had over there at the mccall household.

The women’s (h/c) was spreading around her on the pillow her face express was peaceful almost ad if she hadn’t experienced something horrible or like she was laying on her death bed. The girls made their way down stairs and into the living room where the boys sat or either stood.

“She looked like she had been running, from the dry blood and dirty that was on her feet” Stiles said, “But why was she covered in blood?” He asked.

No one answered Stiles, “They’re all dead.” Everyone head snapped toward the stair case where the women stood at the end her hand leaning against the banister for support. “They’re all dead and I could save them.” The last part came out in a whisper.

“Couldn’t save who?” Kira asked the women slowly walking closer to her.

The women eyes held sadness and uneasiness, before to replied to kira. “My pack… family were all murdered by the cold ones and I ran away all because of my alpha telling me so.”


“Yes alpha, I’m a beta.” She paused and looked toward Stiles staring into his brown eyes. “Just like he’s one too.”

All The Little Things: Sense

A little extra snippet from 6.05 to get us through another week of dumb old Slade. Pair with alt-j’s Every Other Freckle on repeat. 😉

He heard her key in the door; sensed her even before, coming down the hall, if he was honest. After a couple of weeks off from constantly using all of his senses to keep himself alive they sometimes overreacted.

Right now, for instance, he could already pick out the scent of her shampoo as she leaned on the doorframe to his room. He hadn’t missed hearing her conversational tone with William about math either, but he didn’t let on that he’d heard when she questioned him about quadratic equations. The power of her presence made his answer a little vague and distracted.

She crossed the room to him and he was suddenly engulfed by everything that made this woman FELICITY in block letters in his brain. The top half of her was all shampoo and hairspray and fabric softener, but the bottom half…

Oliver swallowed thickly. Those tanned, incredibly toned legs. Felicity always made it a point to barely mist those legs with body spray each morning, up high, under her skirt. She didn’t have a signature scent, like most women seemed to. He knew from experience that most days she stood in front of her collection of scents and mumbled “MOOD” under her breath before choosing.

It didn’t always depend on how she was feeling, however; it could vary by season as well: Apple or Pumpkin Cupcake in the fall, some combination of peppermint and vanilla to warm him in the winter. Spring was a cacophony of florals, citrus in the summer.

She used such a small amount that most days he couldn’t tell which scent she’d put on until he was down there, which was torture if they had a long day (or night) ahead of them before he’d have a chance to find out. In those times, when he couldn’t take it anymore, he’d feign an untied shoe in order to take a knee near her chair. A suspicious number of pens got dropped by him around her on those nights.

Their 18 months apart—18 months of being so close to knowing, but so many thousands of miles away—had nearly killed him.

Oliver blinked once, long and slow, to shake himself out of those thoughts so he could focus on the question at hand: Should he fulfill his promise and go with Slade to look for his son and risk breaking a promise to his own, or stay? Stay with this incredible woman in front of him, who could set him on fire before she’d even touched him.

“I want you to tell me not to go,” he said huskily, with a hint of a smile, because he really didn’t want to go. Promises be damned, he wanted HER. Now, later, tomorrow, all the time that he’d potentially be wasting running around with Slade.

He kept his hands in his pockets, because if he reached for her it would all be over, and that would be bad: Echoey, concrete walls and a kid in the next room were turning out to be two very incompatible things. He was going to fire his real estate agent.

Felicity’s words, while wise and strangely pro-Slade, were not turning out to be the answer he was hoping for, but she was making a lot of sense. Scents, his stupid brain corrected against his will. And then, to make it worse, her fingertips skated over his skin as she reached out to adjust his collar and he felt the impact like an electric shock.

He knew he had that goofy heart-eyes look on his face; everybody had been ribbing him about it, even Raisa, whose knowing smile always made him blush.

Going back into the field distracted like this would never do.

So this was it: He was going to pack his bag, cook dinner for his family, and then get on a plane with his frenemy. As soon as…

Oliver took hold of Felicity’s waist and pivoted her until the backs of her legs brushed against the end of the bed.

“Oliver, wha—“

He guided her down and back, and then dropped to his knees.

“I’ll go. But first things first.”

@geneshaven @almondblossomme @hope-for-olicity @nalla-madness @coal000 @befitandchase @mortallock

Paradise Rose (Mafia AU Hong Jonghyun) Pt1

Type: Fluff

Request: Can you do a mafia au of hong jonghyun fluff please, if you are still taking requests.

~if you don’t look the person I described sorry I thought it would work well with the scenario I have laid out~

“I’m just curious on why you would want to meet here?” Jonghyun asked a man who he was attempting to do business with, well the man he was with was trying to do business with him but didn’t seem to want to do business in the area that Jonghyun wanted to. He looked at the large sign above the building ‘The Paradise Rose’ was a rather popular business place for the rich business men or women whoever wanted to spend time with the girls who worked there. He wanted to meet where he normally did. A restaurant in his district of business. But Mr. Yoo was a man who enjoyed women and had a great deal of resources within Seoul that Jonghyun could use. 

“The business is my favorite” he was told “these girls give you something to look at but it doesn’t mean that they want anything more than a stack of cash” he says “you know this isn’t a strip joint right? They’re more of escorts that don’t really leave the place” he was told.  He didn’t even know this place was membership exclusive but it was. A golden card with ‘PR’ shining on it was the key into the building really. Flashing it to the bouncer who quickly let them in when he saw the name on it. 


He didn’t smell sweat and desperation like he thought he would. It actually had a rather elegant scent within the building. Women and men were anywhere and everywhere in his opinion. “Ah Kyenam” the manager spoke “hello Sangyeob” Kyenam responded as he looked around “Somin is with someone at the moment” Sangyeob spoke as Kyenam sent him a look “I’m sorry” Sangyeob spoke. 

“I’ve never seen you around” a voice spoke as Jonghyun turned to see a gorgeous woman. Long legged that seemed more lovely thanks to the high heels on her feet, waved hair that cascaded down her shoulders, and of course the tight short dress. A smile gracing her dark violet lips “these kinds of places aren’t for me” he spoke at he looked over the figure in front of him.

 “Y/N why don’t you take them to one of the private rooms and serve them drinks” Sangyeob spoke as you perked up “are you sure?” you asked him as he nodded “yes sir” he said as you decided to do as he asked. He stopped the first “sorry ahead of time, she’s rather new in the industry so if she messes up anything” he spoke. “Also sir, what is your name?” Sangyeob spoke “Hong Jonghyun” he told Sangyeob who’s eyes widened as he nodded “welcome sir, I hope you like my establishment” he was told as Sangyeob bowed to him and let you guide the men. 

Hong Jonghyun was a big deal to say the least and Yoo Kyenam had zero to little respect for him or it seemed the women here in general. The man was a piece of work and true newbie to the world he’s been trying to get into by doing business with Jonghyun. They were about the same age but seemed to be on two different wave lengths of maturity. Jonghyun was dressed in a suit while Kyenam walked around in his street wear, he was underdressed for an establishment such as this. 


 “She seems lovely” Jonghyun spoke as he saw the artwork that graced your shoulder, roses detailed the skin “real lovely” Kyenam spoke as his eyes were on your rear. You unlocked the door to one of the private rooms allowing them to walk in. A bar in the corner and couches in the corner. “Why don’t you be a doll and go see if my favorite girl is ready for me” Kyenam spoke. “Oh Somin correct?” you asked him as he nodded “she’s with someone rather important at the moment” you say quietly “honey I didn’t really mean to ask you, I was telling you” he said “alright I’m sorry Mr. Yoo” you tell him as he smiled and you headed off. “Did you see any you liked?” Kyenam asked as he took a seat onto the leather couch and smiled. 

“She was rather nice” Jonghyun spoke as he looked at the door. “She’s brand new to this stuff didn’t you hear Sangyeob? She probably doesn’t even know how to charm more than with her smile” Kyenam said “her smile is charming and she seemed to have an elegance to her” Jonghyun responded as the door opened. “I mentioned your name and he gave her up right away but she wanted to freshen up for you sir” you tell Kyenam as he smirked. “Good. Why don’t you go get us a bottle of Cantena” he told you as you offered another fake smile and walked out of the room once more. “She’s taking good care of us” Kyenam spoke as Jonghyun gave a fake smile. 


Why want a job like this? Getting paid to be charming seemed to be a wonderful idea. But the last 4 months you had been working here the boss didn’t let you do more than serve drinks and take people to the private rooms. You weren’t even supposed to really talk to them unless you were asked something. 

You sighed before your arm was grabbed lightly as Somin was looking at you “do you think he will be too touchy? He brought a guest right?” she asked you as she fixed her heel “I tried to talk him into having another girl really. I even had to lie and say that you left your last client to see him” you joked as she sighed but smiled “I really don’t want to see him” she whined as you patted her shoulder “I have to go grab a bottle of Cantena for Prince Charming” you say sarcastically as you pointed to the room they were in and she put on her normal acting charm came out and she headed into the room. 


“Pour Somin some” Kyenam spoke “she’s not allowed to drink” you tell him as he rolled his eyes “she can drink if she likes” he told you “no she can’t” you tell sternly. “You’re crap at this job” he sighed smiling at Somin who gave him a fake smile. “You guys aren’t allowed to drink while working?” Jonghyun asked as you poured him more to drink. “Correct” you inform as a knock on the door interrupted you guys. You put the bottle down and headed to the door and opened it a bit “give this to Mr. Hong” you were told by Sangyeob who held the golden card through the opening and you took it from him. 

You headed back over to them as Kyenam stuck his foot out and you tripped and Jonghyun caught you. “Sir I am so sorry” you spoke as he looked at you wide eyed. He stood you back up as Kyenam began laughing at the scene. You passed Hong Jonghyun the card you were given as he lightly took it. “I will leave you guys to speak” you say as you quickly took off out of the room. “You tripped her?” Jonghyun spoke a bit of anger. “She didn’t get hurt so what” Kyenam said “you know what. We’re done here” he told Kyenam “what?” “you’re nothing more than a disrespectful and immature man that I want nothing to do with” Jonghyun fixed his tie as he stood up and headed towards the door of the room. 

He wasn’t going to do any business with the man. But now knowing what The Paradise Rose had to offer he was going to come back someday. 

2:31 AM

Ship: Nalu

Story Type: Oneshot, angsty and fluffy!

Characters: Natsu Dragneel, Lucy Heartfilia, Levy McGarden

Summary: “Well, what else am I supposed to think!” I yell. “You barely talk to me anymore, you have secret phone calls, you sneak out at night, and you come back smelling like perfume!”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I was wondering if you or your followers know of any women's body spray or perfume that isn't too frilly smelling? Scents marketed to men are way too strong and musky for me. They always give me a headache so I can't use those, but women's scents are usually too sweet or floral. I'd just like to have a nice nuetral scent.


I don’t know any (or wear any at the moment, for that matter) but I’d keep an eye out for anything that’s marketed as a “clean,” “fresh,” “light,” or “balanced” scent and see if that’s any closer to your target. Also, gender-neutral scents tend to be more middle-ground. I feel like jasmine, cotton, sea salt, citrus, and earthy herbal scents might be worth looking into. I’m personally a fan of black tea/bergamot notes, but I lean towards musky scents, so.


-mod p