We aren’t matching usernames anymore Rip doc 😨😒🥹☹️ anyways

You probably smell like Byredo Blanche. Soft. Sterile in a comforting way. Like warm scrubs fresh from the dryer and sunlight in a quiet hospital corridor. There’s a cleanness to you. Something careful and calm. Like you take your time folding towels and know how to make silence feel safe. But you don’t stop there.

You smell like someone who carries a little world in his pocket. Like Etat Libre d’Orange Like This. Warm ginger and golden syrupy light. There’s something peculiar about you. A quiet oddness that feels like home. You’re not trying to be different. You just are. And it lingers on your skin like stories that don’t need to be told out loud.

Sometimes you probably wear Hermès Un Jardin Sur Le Nil. Green mango. Lotus. River air. Something bright. Watery. A little surreal. You smell like curiosity. Like someone who wanders. Someone who’s seen strange places in dreams and wanted to bring the colors back with him. You’re soft. But your edges are vivid. Not loud. Just quietly blooming.

Or maybe it’s Zoologist Dragonfly. Powdery. Damp. A little vintage. You smell like someone who keeps notebooks filled with half-thoughts and petals. Someone who doesn’t always speak but always sees. There’s something nostalgic about you. Like a memory floating just out of reach.

And sometimes. Just sometimes. You smell like Nasomatto Fantomas. A little chaotic. A little plasticky. Like a firecracker in a museum. You’re not all calm and linen. You’re sparks under glass. You’re the scent that makes people turn their heads and wonder what they just missed.

You smell like softness with teeth. Clean hands and colorful pockets. Like a doctor who buys candy he’s never tried and always finishes books. You smell like white coats and something red flickering underneath. Like someone who heals. But still dreams in color.