Citrus

Blueberry is deceptively subtle—nothing like biting into the fruit itself. Imagine the wispy sweetness of berry jam at the moment it's being made, before it darkens and concentrates. There's a faint powdery quality, almost like dusting your fingers with icing sugar mixed with crushed violet leaves. The scent whispers rather than shouts: slightly tart, gently fruity, with an underlying earthy undertone reminiscent of wet soil after rain. It's more perfume-sketch than photorealistic berry—ethereal and impressionistic.

Gourmand

Vanilla smells like warmth wrapped in sweetness—imagine the comforting aroma of freshly baked vanilla sponge cake, or a warm bowl of vanilla custard on a winter's evening. It's creamy and soft, almost edible, with subtle woody undertones and a hint of spice that recalls cloves or nutmeg. Pure vanilla is surprisingly complex: it's not aggressively sweet, but rather enveloping, like condensed caramel with a touch of earthy depth. It smells like indulgence and safety simultaneously.