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therealvikingstrash · 2 years

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- most images used are from Pinterest two (the ones with Dianne and Gaia together) are from @castvikings site -

In celebration of @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 's birthday- Happy Birthday again! -, these Moodboards I couldn't really decide which one to take and a cute little Christmas fic (under 1k!) are my entry to your Winter Birthday Challenge. 💕 I hope you can tolerate it, even though it is no Hvitty content😅

Apple Traditions

As the door fell shut behind her with an almost inaudible click, Þorunn felt like all the stress and pain was leaving her body in a single breath. Finally home, she took off her scarf and heavy coat, followed by the snow stained boots to reveal her fuzzy socks.

Ever since she broke up with Bjorn, she shared an apartment with another lost soul she met at work- Yidu. Her roommate was very strict when it came to keeping their living quarters nice and tidy, something Þorunn was not known for but despite their differences, they got along fine.

The smell of baked goods and music drew Þorunn nearer to the living room whose door was slightly ajar and she slowly opened it fully to reveal colorful Christmas lights and decorations everywhere- a little Christmas tree had been put in the corner by Yidu and she found the culprit on the couch as she took in the scene before her.

With her family being long gone and Yidu's own far away in a different country- they might as well not exist- Þorunn thought she wouldn't celebrate Christmas at all. The last time had been at the Lothbrok's and Bjorn tried to manipulate her into doing what he wanted, while his mother just watched on.

Yidu's face lit up in excitement, "You're home!" she said joyous, "I made cookies and decorated our home." With a wide gesture she pointed at the room at large. Our home, those innocent words caused Þorunn's eyes to water with upwelling emotions. If only Yidu knew that Þorunn had developed feelings for her. Never before she'd been in love with a woman, but her roommate's sunny personality and beautiful laugh- including the cute snort she did- had caused her to fall hard.

"It looks really pretty…" Þorunn said, pushing her sad feelings down to let her smile take over. "Did you do all this on your day off?" she asked and got a proud nod in answer.

"I wanted to surprise you! So...surprise!" There was a little spring to her step when Yidu crossed the short distance to Þorunn, picking up a little red box that had stood on the coffee table as she went. "This is for you."

They had let the twenty fourth of December go by without acknowledging it since they both had to work crazy shifts at the hospital. Þorunn had not thought of buying presents in the least and here she was, being given a warm home with the sweetest soul in front of her. "But I don't…"

Yidu silenced her with a wave of her hand. "Just open it," her roommate said, suddenly looking a little nervous. "If I didn't read it wrong, this won't end up horribly embarrassing for me."

Curious as to what Yidu might've bought her, she rounded their couch and sat down to carefully open the box. "An apple?" she asked with a furrowed brow, an amused smile creasing the corner of her lips.

Her roommate and friend laughed a little, "Yes, it's a Chinese tradition called Ping'an Ye to gift an apple to your friends and l-loved ones." Yidu stuttered, taking the seat next to Þorunn. "You have to take it out to see the whole present." She instructed and Þorunn followed her words suit.

I love you, was whittled into the red skin of the apple. The carvings looked a little botchy, but it told Þorunn her friend had done this herself which caused her heart to stumble even more in affection. "Are you...in love?" she wanted to make sure as she tried to make eye contact with Yidu who shyly nodded her head, but didn't meet her searching gaze.

"I'm sorry it doesn't look as good, I had to cut it myself," her friend said with a nervous chuckle, "You Norwegians have no service here like in China. It usually looks artful and pretty. I can show you a picture-"

This time it was Þorunn shushing Yidu, her fingertips briefly touching her friends lips and then making way over Yidu's soft skin until Þorunn was gently holding her face in her palm, "It's the most beautiful apple I've ever seen." Her thumb caressed her friend's cheek before she slowly leaned in to kiss Yidu's lips, giving her enough time to back away if it was too forward. A soft brush of their lips later, Þorunn moved back again, "I feel the same way." she stated, in case her action hadn't made it clear already.

It wasn't long before Yidu attacked her with more kisses in answer, gone was her insecurity and fear of rejection, causing them to end up in a tangle of limbs on the couch, giggling and kissing to their heart's content.

"I got one question," Þorunn said, as she held Yidu, caressing her arm tenderly. "What am I supposed to do with that apple? Should I eat it or...I don't know...keep it? Letting it rot seems like such a waste." she mused, feeling Yidu's lips place a tentative kiss to her jaw.

"You can eat it, moron, but first let me take a picture with you holding it," her newly acquired girlfriend told her, "I want to send it to my brothers to gloat."

Þorunn sighed in defeat, this wasn't new, Yidu always had some sort of competition going on with her siblings, "Of course you do."

This year was the best Christmas so far and Þorunn had an inkling that in every following year it would be just as sweet as long as Yidu was by her side. She swore to herself to practice carving apples for next year in order to surprise this beautiful soul in her arms.

Hope you liked it at least a little! And yeah, I might write more for this pairing, because I kinda dig it. If it's not to your liking I can probably whip up something else 😅

#cherry's winter bday #deans ch ch cherrypie #writing challenge #Þorunn x Yidu #Yidu #Þorunn #fluff #christmas theme #vikings au #modern au

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dravencore · 7 years

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me: *wants to get a little more into makeup for the artistry of it*

also me: *is 100% aware of the toxicity of makeup culture and doest want to contribute to that, hasn't worn makeup ever and has years of catchup, doesn't like how I look with makeup, and doesn't have the time/money to spend on it*

#I don't want to use makeup as a way of covering up the flaws I know I have #I just like eyeshadow pallets #I'm 18 and the most I've ever done is bb cream to cover up botchy skin/acne #a dilemma ™#doodlesays

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izcana · 3 years

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Tommy and the Newt Pt. 6

Be Our Guest - Animated: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=afzmwAKUppU&ab_channel=disneysongsnet Film: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KedA_rkor0s&ab_channel=MichelleHernandez

***

Thomas, after who knows how long later, peered up from the pillow his face was smushed in beforehand.

"I'm sorry," Teresa said as soon as she saw his teary face. She seemed genuinely distressed about him being upset, his puffy eyes and sniffles. "I truly atone for him. Newt is...rather complex...He gets into these great big mood swings, you see..."

Thomas snorted under his breath. "You shouldn't apologise for him. He should be apologising to you. Mood swings aren't excuses for his behaviour." Who did this beast think he was? Locking people in his dungeons, forcing them to dine with him, while they suffer through the longing for home. Or maybe that was just him. Thomas figured it was time to divert to a different topic. It didn't do him good to speak ill of his new host (some host he was). "What happened here? Why can you all –––"

"Talk?" Teresa completed for him. Thomas jumped back when the doors of the wardrobe opened. "I –––"

She was just about to stammer out something when there was timid a knock on the door. Thomas gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. "I SAID NO!" He shrieked. He hoped whoever that was on the other side of the door was startled.

Startled they were, indeed. "Uh...sweetheart?" An older woman, one with a melodious, deep voice called. "It's not Newt, can you open the door, please?"

Teresa's head perked up at the voice. "It's Chancellor Paige, you should open the door."

Thomas listened to her, and before he could register anything, a tray with a teapot and cup neatly balanced on it was trailing in. "I'm sorry about just now," the older woman – no, "Chancellor Paige", who Thomas identified to be the teacup, said. Surprisingly, he was no longer shocked at the utilities and furniture that could talk. As regarding her apology, Thomas said nothing, but he hoped he could communicate with his eyes he was sorry, too. He never meant to cause them trouble with who seemed to be their master.

"Hey there!" the small teacup cried, wiggling from side to side. Thomas noticed the small flaw on the otherwise perfect floral-etched cup – a small chip near the handle. He could also see eyes and a small mouth, and what seemed to be a rosy tint to the kid's cheeks. From the sound of his voice, he couldn't have been more than 12. "You're pretty!"

"Chuck," Chancellor Paige reprimanded. "Settle down." She tipped her nozzle to the boy (Chuck, she called him) and he giggled when the hot stream of water hit the insides of the porcelain. A transparent drop splayed out of the chip and landed on Thomas. "Mind your manners, please. Introduce yourself."

From first glance, Chancellor Paige (he still didn't know her first name...or was 'Paige' her first name?) was not someone to be crossed. She was obviously a stern woman, and if her melodious, toned, and slightly raspy voice was anything to go by, she was probably in her 40s-50s. "I'm Chuck Paige!" Chuck grinned, his rosy cheeks tinting even brighter. If Thomas had to guess, he'd say Chuck was shy.

"Take a drink, Hon," Chancellor Paige (who's signature Thomas knew was not Paige) said, raising her nozzle slightly towards Chuck's direction.

Thomas picked up Chuck carefully, worried he'd hurt the kid. Porcelain was fragile, after all. Chuck giggled. "It tickles!"

"I'm Ava Paige," the woman continued. "Chuck here is my son."

"I'm Minho and this shuck-face here is Gally." Thomas jumped back; he hadn't noticed the candle holder and clock that were standing close to his feet.

"Who are you calling a shuck-face, shuck-face?" The one called Gally taunted. "You're the shuck-face!"

"What's a 'shuck-face'?" Thomas asked quickly, directing the attention of the fighting mantlepieces to him. It was rather comical: a gold ornament clock and a bronze, rusted torch holder fighting, waving their appendages around madly. He was very worried that one of the still-burning candlesticks on Minho's (supposed) "arm" was going to catch on fire.

"A shuck-face is what Minho is!" The one who called himself Gally yelled furiously, his cheeks border lining on a botchy red.

"Ah...ignore him," Minho smirked cheekily, and Thomas smiled back shyly in response. "We made up the term stuck as furniture and common items. A shuck-face is an insulting term to someone, but we usually use it as a joke. A joke, Gally."

Gally's dangerously purple shade gradually faded to metallic gold along with the rest of his body. "Shut up, Minho!"

"Now, now, boys?" Ava purred dangerously. "Let's be polite to each other, shall we?" She gave Thomas a warm smile. "They're always like that, bickering back and forth." She smiled fondly. Thomas knew she was referring to the two boys, who both had the telltale deep voice from after puberty, but still acted like kids. It made him wonder: how old were these people, these poor souls that were stuck as items because of the selfish beast?

"Anyway..." Minho whistled, not paying Gally the slightest. "Aren't you hungry? You said you weren't, but..."

"I am terribly hungry," Thomas admitted. Even his own voice sounded tiny to himself. "But...I didn't want to dine with him."

Gally snorted, and Thomas thought he could see a smudge of a kind person beneath his tough exterior. "Understandable. The rest of use told him to be polite but he didn't listen. I seem to remember him promising to make you blush and then threatening to smash your door down. Did you blush?" The feather duster in the corner, whom Thomas had just noticed, snickered loudly. The rest followed, and although Ava reproached them, her heart didn't seem in it.

"I didn't," Thomas played along. "Teresa can prove it."

"He was flushed," Teresa pitched in. "But I suspect that was from anger and sadness, not embarrassment or love."

"Oooh, I love being threatened!" Thomas rolled his eyes, and everyone laughed along heartily. His heart ached. Was this how the beast – Newt, used to be like?

"I'm Sonya," the colourful feather duster said, blinking at the tears that had gathered at the corners of her eyes. "I was wondering if you want to go eat something since you're hungry? We have tonnes of food..."

"I-I'm not s-sure," Thomas stammered. This had to be a trick...wasn't it? "Didn't Newt say I couldn't eat?"

Minho and Gally both scoffed in sync. Even the upright Ava snickered, and Chuck scrunched up his nose. Did he miss something? "Don't worry about Newt," Sonya said, letting out a snicker. "He's all bark and no bite. He wouldn't actually starve you to death. Besides, you're our guest, not our prisoner!"

"Well, I am a prisoner," Thomas barked, but he followed her out the open doorway without complaint.

"Wait!" Teresa called after him. "You have to be appropriately dressed!"

Thomas shrugged. No one would be watching him except for these people, and they had already seen him debauched. What does it matter? "Why? Who cares?"

"I do!" Teresa cried, and Thomas had a distinct recognition of a three-year-old him staring up at his mum defiantly. "You have to look pretty to go to dinner!"

"Not that he's not already pretty," Minho said. "I'm just telling the truth, man. I'm not really interested but anyone with eyes would say the same; you are somebody blessed with an aesthetically pleasing face, okay?" He clarified after Thomas shot him an incredulous look.

Whether or not Thomas agreed was not a matter, as everyone else seemed to be in agreement, and before he knew it, he was being pushed by Minho and Gally to Teresa's direction. "Come in!" Teresa yelled directly into his ear, making him wince. "I'll give you a makeover!"

He stepped into the wardrobe body obediently, not that there was anything else he could do. "Hmmm...we were expecting a girl so I have mostly dresses here, but I could tailor some into suits if you –––" Thomas thought about it. Could he wear a dress? It's been so long...the only thing he wore similar to a dress after his mum passed was a nightgown.

"Oh, actually..." He trailed off. "I'd like a dress, please, but no ball gowns."

"Huh," Teresa mused. "Your body frame is about the same as a girl's and I think you could pull off a dress very neatly..." Everything in the wardrobe started to fly around quickly, making Thomas head spin as his eyes tried to keep up with the rapidly shifting items inside the closet.

"Try this one?" Teresa implored, and a violet dress landed in front of him. It was a deep violet, and the belt twinkled with a ring of star-like diamonds, or so it seemed. the veil around Thomas' waist reached to his knee and the skirt portion of the dress flared out dramatically around the leg area. Thomas stripped of his cotton wear and slipped on the dress. It had a silky feel around his skin, and the feeling of the fabric around his hips was perfect.

"You look beautiful!" Teresa gushed.

Thomas looked at his shoulders and groaned. "You put me in a strapless top?"

Teresa opted to ignore him.

––––––––––––––––––––––

"I'm telling you, shank," Minho reassured the boy again. "You look brilliant."

"Are you sure?" He stuttered. "I haven't worn a dress s-since I...I was 10." Minho didn't push on the subject; Thomas would part with it when he deemed it safe to.

"Yes!" Gally huffed and panted as he sprinted (as fast as he could as a clock, that was) down the stone stairs. Evidently, he was also tired of Thomas' whining.

"Okay, fine!" Thomas agreed, putting his hands up. "No need to yell!"

******

"Because you are our guest..." Minho began, his candles raised high.

"The castle's staff presents you with...YOUR DINNER!"

******

"That...was...AWESOME!" Thomas declared, flopping back onto his chair lazily. "Y'all are amazing cooks!"

"It was all Sonya and Chancellor Paige," Gally said honestly. "We just danced around and annoyed them."

"Please, do pay my thanks to Ava and Sonya," Thomas smiled. The violet fabric of his gown was starting to slip off his shoulders, revealing more than one mole. If Newt was here, Minho reckoned he'd be swooning. Or as capable of swooning as Newt is, anyway.

––––––––––––––––––––––

Thomas was climbing up the stairs. Specifically, the stairs to the West Wing. Yes, "the West Wing" as in the one Newt told him not to visit. Ava had told him to go to bed and the others retired to their respective room, trusting Thomas to see himself back to his room without a hitch. They may have undermined his underlying curiosity, though. He was going to get behind the secrets and magic of this eerie castle.

He reached the telltale arch of a wing and he peeked inside cautiously, treading his steps softly as to not arouse anyone who may be around, specifically the Beast. Thomas walked around, marvelling at the paintings and the beautiful, intricate carvings on the wall deciphering a maiden doing her washing. Thomas ran his fingers through the dark stone lit up by moonlight, and traced over the face of the woman.

She looked happy.

He followed the design until it ended, and it led him to a king-size bed with unmade covers. Thomas assumed that was where Newt slept. Beside the bed, there stood a glowing rose in a glass case. The rose had all but 5 petals fallen, the rest shrivelled up at the bottom of the casing. He leaned forward, as if entranced, to touch the casing that surrounded the blood-red rose which glowed like the sun, the moon, and all the stars together.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" A furious shout from behind him caused him to almost knock over the container. "DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU COULD HAVE DONE?"

"No," Thomas cried, having the urge to curl up into a small ball and hide from the beast's scratchy roar. "I-I'm s-sorry."

"GET OUT!" He demanded furiously, and Thomas, with the energy pent up in his legs, ran.

He sprinted down the nearest pathway and didn't look back.

***

#Newt x Thomas #newtmas #newtmas beauty and the beast AU #thomas as beauty #newt as beast #teresa #sonya #gally #minho #ava paige #chuck #tmr #Beauty and the Beast AU #the maze runner #crossover #tommy and the newt #izcana #part 6

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rec-hovery · 4 years

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I think the fact that a lot of fitness youtubers, especially women, decide to go 'all-in' after a while is really telling of what those diets and exercising routines do to your body. most of them will list a number of reasons why they decided to do that diet and 80% of those are ed symptoms like, cold all the time? check. no energy? check. feeling hungry all the time no matter how much you eat? check. skin and nails looking botchy, hair falling, missing your period for a while? check, check and check. What it amounts to is basically the same as re-feeding and it genuinely sucks that most of them won't address it as such, but just as a trendy new diet

#ed recovery #ed treatment #ana recovery #recovery #eating disorder #anorexia #bulimia #my post

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strawberryrosemothman · 4 years

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:0 is it okay to ask about your bracelet? No pressure if you don't want to tell the internet about it!

You sure can!!

It’s only about 2 years old (December 2018 I think) but I haven’t fully taken it off unless for showers (I used to take it off my wrist in some stuff I did like Archery - but then it just went to tie my hair).

I made it myself from Paracord and a rose bead (used to be silver but the paint wore off so I painted it red and now that paint is wearing down too).

And I kinda just use it to remind myself that I’m alive? And that I’m here? It’s wild I don’t really know what I’m doing tbh

Here it is (ignore my botchy looking skin I legit just woke up and the light here sucks):

#asks #anon #its the best thing ive ever made

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thesilverwitch · 6 years

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HOW CRYSTAL MAGIC WORKS

No one can yet say categorically how crystals work, although there have been many suggestions based on vibrational resonance and the water and crystalline content of the human body.

Michael Gienger postulates that the power of a crystal to generate light interacts with the cells of the physical body. What is clear is that crystals have an energy field that interacts with any other energy field near it. The interaction of the energy field of a crystal and a human being can, for example, be photographed with a Kirlian camera.

At the simplest level, many crystals contain traces of therapeutic minerals that pass across the skin barrier to bring about physiological changes. Kunzite, as already mentioned, contains lithium, which is used by doctors to medicate depression and bipolar disorders. Crystal users hold Kunzite or place it on their heart and feel uplifted.

Similarly the copper content in Malachite alleviates arthritic discomfort – although too much is toxic. It’s a matter of maintaining the balance. However, as Michael Gienger puts it, crystals are actually an information system that radiates energy. Find the right information, and the correct crystal carrier, and the body will be brought back into balance.

As we have seen, crystals have an orderliness of structure at the molecular level, with each molecule vibrating at the same rate as all the others. Synchronization takes place so that all the units within the crystal – and every other crystal of the same type – vibrate in unison (a harmonic convergence). Each crystal type has its own fundamental frequency or harmonic note. This creates a coherent, resonant system with a stable frequency template.

Coherent systems are difficult to disrupt. Even if there is disharmony or discord nearby, their energy remains stable – and can restore equilibrium to the disrupted energy.

Crystal energy is shaped, amplified and discharged from a crystal’s termination and goes out rather like ripples in a pond, creating a rhythmic pattern that pulses in harmony. The basic template can be modified or directed by other energy, such as magnetism, color waves, intention or the power of thought, passing through it.

Scalar waves may well be the mechanism through which all energetic healing is effected. We’ll get to that in a moment.

EVERYTHING IS ENERGY

At the most basic level, everything is energy. How it manifests is simply a matter of vibrational frequency and the crystalline structure (organic or inorganic) that enfolds it. The human body is no exception. It is a conductive energy system with crystalline structures in and around the blood, lymph and cells and it is repaired and maintained by a complex electrochemical system.

In other words, it runs on vibrations.

This is not only with regard to physiological processes. Emotions and thoughts also have their own vibration (see the work of Bruce Lipton and Valerie Hunt), which go out of kilter during stress and can distort an internal crystal lattice in the body.

Through resonance and entrainment, crystals can restore equilibrium to us. But there is more to it than this. Crystal healing works at a distance. A subtle electromagnetic current passes between a crystal and a person whether or not they are in physical contact. What links and activates them is, I believe, consciousness and intention.

UNIFIED FIELD THEORY

Einstein coined the term ‘uniform field theory’ when trying to find an overall system that would link all the known forces in the universe with fundamental particle physics. But thousands of years before that the Hindu text the Mundaka Upanishad declared:

‘The sparks, though of one nature with the fire, leap from it, uncounted beings leap from the Everlasting, but these, my son merge into It again. The Everlasting is shapeless, birthless, breathless, mindless, above everything, outside everything, inside everything.’

This description sounds exactly like the universe from the perspective of a quantum physicist or a modern mystic such as the systems theorist Ervin Laszlo, who says: ‘The primary “stuff” of the universe is energy and not matter, and space is neither empty nor passive – it’s filled with virtual energies and information.’ This also describes crystal energy.

CONSCIOUSNESS: RIDING THE CREST OF A WAVE

Quantum physics suggests energy is not continuous but rather exists as packets of energy – energy that behaves like particles and yet acts like a wave.

Theoretical quantum physicist Dr. Fred Alan Wolf suggested that consciousness was a huge oceanic wave:

‘Consciousness is a huge oceanic wave that washes through everything, and it has ripples and vibrations in it. When there are acts of consciousness, the wave turns into bubbles at that moment, it turns to froth.’

He pointed out that everything, human beings included, was composed of quantum ‘froth’ and that under an electron microscope we would see:

‘A rather bizarre-looking light show, of things popping on and off, vanishing and reappearing, matter created out of nothing and then vanishing. And in that vanishing and creation, an electromagnetic signal is piped from one point to another point.’

This perfectly describes how I perceive crystal energy moving from a crystal to a body, or going out into the future to bring back information (in quantum physics, particles of energy move forward and backward, see below), or entraining two energy fields.

ENTRAINMENT

Entrainment is an energetic interaction. It is defined as ‘the synchronization of two or more rhythmic cycles’. In conventional entrainment, a smaller energetic field takes on the characteristics of a larger field, but this works both ways, and the larger field can take on the characteristics of the smaller, especially when directed by intention.

So, the crystalline structures in the body, especially its flowing tides of blood, lymph, intercellular and synovial fluid, can be entrained into a more perfect energy pattern.

Time and distance have no relevance here. Research has shown that the brainwaves of a healer and the recipient synchronize, or entrain, no matter what the distance. The same may well be true of crystals.

A crystal’s pulsing energy field has perfect equilibrium and its sympathetic resonance stabilizes a larger field through the energetic synchronization of two crystalline structures.

QUANTUM CRYSTALS

Quantum physics has demonstrated that simultaneous transfer of energy is possible. A particle can be in one place and in another at the same time and thought has an instantaneous effect over vast distances. So it seems feasible that crystal energy can travel from a crystal to the recipient.

It is my belief that what unifies and pervades the quantum and the crystal field is consciousness, which is present in and around everything in the universe. Although consciousness studies are increasing, research has not yet turned its attention to crystal consciousness.

BIOSCALAR WAVES

Research has, however, been conducted into bioscalar waves. A bioscalar wave is a standing energy field created when two fields interact from different angles and counteract each other so that the field reverts to a ‘static state of potentiality’.

Research scientist and Professor Emeritus of Physiological Science at UCLA Dr. Valerie V. Hunt says that bioscalar waves are ‘alive with checked and balanced energies that cancel each other out so that they cannot be measured or evaluated by the instruments in current use’. It is, she says, a ‘strong, huge, and yet passive [force]... Only its effects tell us that it exists in space and has power.’

Laser therapy specialist Kalon Prensky describes a scalar wave as ‘a non-linear, non-Hertzian, standing wave capable of supporting significant effects including carrying information and inducing higher levels of cellular energy, which greatly enhances the performance and effectiveness of the body and immune system.

Additionally, it helps to clear cellular memory by shifting polarity, similar to erasing the memory of a cassette tape with a magnet.’ He states that ‘Scalar Waves travel faster than the speed of light and do not decay over time or distance.’ This sounds very much like crystal energy, and depictions of scalar waves look incredibly similar to the crystal energy perceived by a Kirlian camera or the intuitive eye.

Many of the newer crystals such as Anandalite, Que Sera, Quantum Quattro and Rainbow Mayanite contain concentrated bioscalar energy. All healing crystals probably have this energy within their matrix and generate it through their crystalline structure.

If, as subtle energy researcher Lilli Botchis asserts, ‘When the human body enters a scalar wave field, the electromagnetic field of the individual becomes excited [and] this catalyzes the mind/body complex to return to a more optimal state that is representative of its original, natural, electrical matrix form,’ we can see how a crystal with its optimal energy pattern might operate on the human – and planetary – energy body.

THE EFFECT OF BIOSCALAR WAVES

Research suggests that bioscalar waves assist cell membranes in switching on the most beneficial genetic functions and switching off detrimental patterns encoded within DNA. It has been demonstrated that they directly influence tissue at the microscopic level, bringing about a healing balance.

They have been shown to enhance the immune and endocrine systems, stabilize chemical processes, improve the coherence of the biomagnetic field and accelerate healing at all levels. They also release stored emotions and ingrained thoughts from the cellular structures of the body, removing a root cause of psychosomatic dis-ease. Exactly what is claimed for crystal energy and crystal healing.

INTEGRATED HOLISTIC HEALING

Points to consider:

Only one thousand millionth part of our body is matter. The rest is energy.

Water is a crystalline structure.

The human body is around 57 percent water, and that water is found in every part of the body, therefore the human body is crystalline.

Crystals generate, store and radiate energy.

Quantum physics describes energy as controlling

matter.

Fundamental particles such as electrons influence each other at a considerable distance.

Each individual crystal carries the energetic resonance of the crystal type, no matter where in the world it may be.

Everything is interconnected in such a way that the smallest piece contains the properties of the whole (the holographic universe).

So it would appear that crystal healing works by bringing back into equilibrium all the separate elements of the body, utilizing universal energetic forces that are encoded into the crystals.

The information field of a crystal interacts with that of a human being or a particular environment, with each part influencing the other. This can work at a distance, powered by intention and consciousness.

In other words, as Professor John Wheeler puts it, ‘In some strange sense the quantum principle tells us that we are dealing with a participatory universe.’

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royal-writer · 5 years

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sleeping at last

There’s an old piece that correlates with this one in one part, I’m sure it’ll be easy to decipher which.

There she was. Elegant in her goodness, graceful in her form. Her hands and body moved in theatrics to the spellbinding tale spoken not from a novel, but from a creative heart. In some stories such as this, Amon could hear the grains of history. Little breadcrumbs of the past; experiences he lived alongside her were buried in the corners of her art as she painted a picture before the doe-eyed look of their child.

The heroes she described were often outclassed. Stronger together than they were alone; fighting for hope and justice in a world where darkness sprang up out of nowhere. The blows in battle his darling wife were softer than reality; and friendship was made more often than a monster’s defeat. Passion ignited in her every word. The troop learned the value of friendship and family with every adventure. They sounded like a lively bunch of noble allies, rather than a clumsy group of mismatched weirdos. They did, however, share a common background in doing their very best, for the good of the world.

Hepsiba held to her mother’s every word breathlessly. She was mesmerized by these fables. Her face looked much the same when he let her pick a book to read in the evening, and he would make up voices for all the characters. Sometimes she would advise him to the voices she believed most prominent to the characters in her head, or offer to read passages herself to the best of her ability. A charming, botchy voice squeaking, growling, or rasping words to define a character; trying to curl words on tongue she couldn’t yet pronounce.

He could feel the tingles of joy in his chest. His eyes moved from his daughter; trying to blink her eyes into staying awake, to his darling Essätha once more. Even without seeing her, he could feel his little Isabelle in the other room, comfortably sleeping. A traced tether to his heart. One of the maids was left to keep an eye on her should she wake to hail them at once. She’d fallen asleep so soundly in his arms. She knew he was safe; she knew he was her father, that he loved her, that he wouldn’t let anything happen to her as he rocked her to asleep to the land of dreams as wide and endless as the realms of her reality.

It was too much beauty and joy for one man. Three stunning, perfect, enchanting little lady’s to call his own. Three girls who loved him, trusted him, cherished him, gifted him with light and happiness and so much beauty that his heart felt ready to split at the seams and combust. It was too much. It was more than he once felt he was granted or deserved, and now, well now he had little doubt at all.

Lord Amon Thomas Illiad was no longer the same lonely, broken man of Briarton and protector of the Emerald Expanse. There was no magic cure for his aches; which still did ache, but they were not so overwhelming. Every day was new and filled with the promise of possibilities yet to be lived. Every day, he got to look into the soft, soft eyes of his darling, beautiful wife as the dawn sun rose and by Pelor he knew everything would be okay.

Better than okay. He had her, but now they had a family of their own. Life was perfect. The sound of small feet pitter-pattering through the house. Those eyes of Hepsiba’s; warm like her mother, touched with hazel around the iris. Isabelle’s deep blues that he swore looked like a mirror reflection of his own even just a few months old.

He liked to think that there was another, not in this realm, but still staring down from the Heavens upon him all the same. Just another one of his angels. True that he could no longer hold his Marie; that he longed to wrap her in his arms, but that day would come again. Not anytime soon; not nearly anytime soon, but it would come.

Now however, he enjoyed the living. The breath of life he forgot for years how to fully encompass. Marie had softened his edges; brought light through the darkness, but his secrets he did keep close, even from her.

There were still yet light and beauty in the world. Experiences to treasure. Children to love. His wife to hold and adore. One angel above, and three still surrounding him.

He recognized the pitch and tone of the melody softly sung, as Essätha grasped the sheets to tuck their sleeping daughter in. He’d heard her sing it to her stomach, when she was pregnant. He heard her sing it now, when she lay the children to sleep. He heard it far before either of those. In a distant memory; one that was not quite clear of the night, but he did remember her voice between his restless attempts to sleep. Sobbing in his bed, cradled in her arms, with Caesar spread out in front of him, fingers clenched to his furry shoulder for support.

Amon had held her hand against her heart that night, not knowing that one day it would be hers.

Back then, only clips of the words stitched to the fabric of his mind in a near-sleep haze as he came in and out of his sorrowful comatose. The tune stuck longer. And now he knew both, as he spied from the doorway this lethally gorgeous woman of divinity, snuggling the blanket beneath Hepsiba’s chin.

Quietly, he strolled across the room towards them.

“You’ll wake in my arms, but sweet dreams for now,” Essie hummed, smoothing out the comforter with a steady hand. “I have you always-”

“This I vow,” they chimed in unison.

Offering a stunned short-of-breath gasp, Essätha shivered as he wrapped an arm around her waist. His heart jumped at the lovely sound, sneaking himself close to her side to feel the way her gentle curves rested against him. His lips skimmed her cheek and to the corner of her mouth, which was turned up in a smile as her lingering gaze sparkled up at him with amusement.

By Pelor’s Light, he was a wealthy man. The richest in the world, getting to witness such a virtuous smile filled with tenderness and unconditional love. It was all for him. Given to him freely. He needn’t ask. He didn’t even need to see. If he lost all his senses, he would still feel it. The weight her gaze held that gave his heart a jolt; that exhilarated his breath with excitement, that burned a fire in his soul. Though he enjoyed and was grateful for all he had, and his senses that allowed him to memorize every thrilling kiss of her fragrant skin; the shape and color of her vibrant summer’s end eyes, the sound of her siren’s voice, he could live without them all. His money, his home, his name, his honor; he could live without all of it, as long as he had her, and their perfect children.

“You are incredibly beautiful, my darling Essätha,” Amon whispered, pressing his lips against her temple gently.

She offered a light, airy laugh as she turned her head towards him. Warm breath spilled against his throat as she nuzzled her face against him, resting herself just beneath his chin.

“I know,” she replied almost slyly, “you’ve told me many times today, my love. But I do like hearing you say it. I never tire of hearing you say it.”

Of course she knew. She did not say it was arrogance; it was merely a pleasant, knowing fact. He loved her confidence. There were days it wavered, but he would never let her forget long how beautiful she was, inside and out. Too long she was uncertain in life of this truth. But now she was even wiser than those years ago, and although she didn’t require the reminder, he was happy to give it and compliment her as frequently as he could.

He squeezed her closer to her side before unwinding his arm from around her. Quick hands snagged the front of his shirt, wrinkling the fabric as warm lips pressed against his in a gesture innocent and endearing.

“My belovedly handsome Lord Amon,” Essie cooed softly; not daring to speak too loudly and rouse the sleeping child.

An instantaneous grin was on his face. He was all hers. Hers, and their remarkable daughters. Proudly wrapped around their fingers, without a care in the world. Unshakably devoted and adoring.

In his hands, he took hold of hers. Folding his fingers against hers, Amon leaned in to nuzzle his cheek against hers. Her quiet giggles wafted against his skin as his beard tickled her. Ghosting his lips against her face, he planted another kiss upon the bowed shape of her smiling lips.

“My wife,” he proudly whispered with fondness.

A thrill of delight shot through him like the world’s best drug as she affectionately rubbed her nose against his, sighing with a deep appreciation: “My husband.”

Every cell in his body hummed with joy. He couldn’t wait to climb into bed, and fold himself all around his magnificent woman and snuggle her into his chest. His to have and to hold. Vows he committed to before, during, and after their wedding that he followed with eagerness each and every evening.

He pulled those delicate hands down from his shirt and released them. Turning towards the child nestled safely in her blankets, Amon leaned down to brush a kiss to her forehead. Barely there, as he moved some of her springy curls out from her face.

“Sleep well, my precious Hespiba.”

Turning back, he caught the glimpse of Essie’s eyes wearing nothing but respect, and admiration. He took hold of her hand, and found the places between her fingers where his fit so snuggly as he raised her hand to his chest. He held it there, watching the color first rise to her face as her mouth parted, and eyes widened, before bringing it to his lips to kiss upon her knuckles.

“Shall we retire to bed, my Lady?”

Her nod was vigorous as she slipped against his side; melting into place against him. Her head to his shoulder, peering up at him beneath dark lashes.

“Will you promise to kiss me goodnight, too, m’lord?” she flirted, squeezing his hand.

Amon scoffed, leading her quietly from Hepsiba’s bedroom out the door. A twinkle in his eyes as he grasped the doorhandle, and closed it softly behind them.

“A million times if you’d like, Essie,” he promised. “It would be my greatest honor.”

“Mmm, how about a billion?” she tested playfully, exerting a small laugh as he pulled her closer to his body, spinning them around slowly through the master bedroom’s sitting room in a lazy, intimate dance.

“I would love to,” he replied in earnest, sliding his other arm around her lower back as an anchor as he dipped her slowly, and reeled her back into another twirl towards the bedroom door.

“Ooh, my dear heart,” Essätha breathed. She leaned against him. Trusting his strength to her yielding as he pulled her ever closer, so their feet had to shuffle through their poor waltz.

With a deep but quiet hum echoing in his throat, the nobleman placed a kiss on top of his spectacular's wife hair, and swayed them gently from side to side. His hand rubbing her back, and the other interweaved against hers. Ah, but the best part of all: the gift of her heart resting against his chest. Her heartbeat a lull of love beating inside of him. A gift that had sparked so many others in his life. A gift that changed his world, and ultimately, made him a better man.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Amon wasn’t sure what woke him, but he groaned groggily nevertheless. His eyes remained closed. If Essie wanted him to get up and check on Isabelle in the crib nearby, she’d shake him. The sluggish part of his brain was telling him that Belle must have woke up whimpering for a feeding, though he couldn’t hear any crying now.

Shifting his weight, he tried to maneuver himself a bit and heard the sleepy sigh of another still in bed. His arms reflexively tightened against the slightness of the figure, breathing in her floral scents deep in his lungs as he buried his face in her shoulder. Hair tickled his face, but he was much too drowsy to be properly irritated enough to move the thick mass of waves and curls.

Sniffles. There were short, pained sniffles. A hiccup followed and he cracked an eye gradually to the noise.

“D-Daddy? Mommy?”

“Mmm?” Amon groaned, dragging his arms from around his sleeping wife. She mumbled something herself as he placed a hand to the mattress as an anchor, craning himself up into a sitting position.

Rounded, glittering eyes stared at him from the end of the bed. Hepsiba nervously clutched her dolly to her thin chest as their gazes met, tracks of tears running down her cheeks and dripping from her chin.

“Hepsiba? Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” he murmured, kicking and shoving the blankets aside as he climbed out of bed.

“I’m s-sorry I woke you daddy,” the child hiccuped fearfully, tightening her grasp upon her toy. She turned her eyes to the floor as he rolled out of bed.

“’Sibby?” Essätha yawned, lifting her head from her pillow. “Wha’s going on? Oh, baby-”

“Shhh, shhh, there there sweetheart it’s alright,” Amon hushed, kneeling down before the child. “I’m not upset with you for waking me. What’s wrong honey, why are you crying?”

He extended his arms to his daughter in an inviting gesture, and she stepped tentatively forward. Her eyes flirted away, darted back up to his, and she threw herself into him with a weepy sob.

As he caged his arms protectively around her, Essätha scrambled out from beneath the duvet over the end of the bed to join him. She slid off the bed’s end, and wrapped her arms around the shivering child from behind with a soothing murmur, and kiss to the child’s head.

“I had a bad dream,” Hepsiba sobbed pitifully, tucking her face against Amon’s chest.

A look of concern worried on Essie’s face immediately. Their eyes met, and a guilty flicker drew her mouth further down.

“Honey, mommy’s so sorry if the story gave you nightmares.”

She shook her face slowly. Tears pressed against Amon’s chest as he moved his hands encouragingly back and forth over her back as she whimpered and choked. The sound of her cries like knives against his heart.

“I was l-lost and couldn’t find h-home. I couldn’t find y-you. I couldn’t find my m-mommy or my daddy and someone was c-chasing me-”

“No one’s chasing you, sweetheart,” Amon assured her softly. He pulled himself back a little from her tight embrace, and reached down to wipe her damp eyes. A quiver still wobbled her lower lip as she looked up at him beneath the liquidity blur of her regard.

“We’re right here, ‘Sibby. We’re never going to let you go, okay?” He offered gently.

“Okay,” she whispered, her voice hitching and cracking hoarsely.

“We love you very much, sweetheart. We would never leave you in a situation you couldn’t handle on your own, okay? You’ll always have us. You’ll always have our support and our protection, and our love. We’re always going to be your proud mother and father. We’re always going to be with you.”

Gradually, their little girl gave a meek nod of understanding. Her tears stopped tracking down her face, but her chest still heaved like it hurt to breathe.

“No one’s going to hurt you, ‘Sibby,” Essie affirmed quietly. “It was just a really bad dream. We would never let anyone do anything like that to you. And if you’re ever lost or feeling scared or alone, you can always come to us. We won’t ever turn you away, baby. We just want to keep you happy and safe, and love on you as much as we can.”

Hepsiba nodded once more, swallowing as she rasped, “Okay.”

Smiling encouragingly to the blotchy cheeks, those red-rimmed eyes and pouty lip, Amon tilted his head to the bed slightly as he inquired gently, “Would you feel better, sleeping with us tonight?”

She jerked her head in a rapid and instant nod.

“P-Please?”

“Of course sweetheart. I offered, because I meant it. You’re more than welcome to join us.”

Reaching around the trembling figure, Amon hoisted Hepsiba up and in his arms. She gripped at him nervously, her eyes still bugged-out with terror. Essätha leaned in to gather her hair back out of her face, and press a kiss against her brow tenderly.

He carried her to his side of the bed, and let her down gently against the mattress. With a great show of timidness, Hepsiba climbed over the canyon’s width of the massive bed to sit in the middle. Her gaze moved back and forth, to him and then to her mother as they crawled their way back in, and threw up the covers so they draped over them and fell over the huddled figure.

‘Sibby made a nervous squeak as Essätha got to her first. Wrapping her arms around their little girl, she pulled her against her chest comfortingly, resting to the child’s back.

Scooting closer, Amon wrapped himself around both of his little girls. The bush of his beard seemed to tease Hepsiba’s face, and she giggled quietly before squirming lower into a position that wasn’t going to pester her from rest with his facial hair.

Above the head of their daughter, Amon leaned in to press a supportive kiss against his wife’s anxious face. It gave a more peaceful, serene look to her tired face.

Huddling up into a sandwich, with Hepsiba in the middle, they curled their limbs over, against, beneath, and between each other’s in a mess. Rest and tiredness draining them between their quiet whispers of support to their brave little girl, who seemed to grow more relaxed the longer they lay there. Until, eventually, sleep claimed them. A trio of faintly smiling faces, and one baby girl a few feet away in her own crib. All peacefully held in the same embrace of family and unity, under one roof.

#eci artz #Essie rw #amon illiad #essamon ship

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bondilashlab · 3 years

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How to Take Care of your Eyebrows at Home

This pandemic has taken away almost everything from us - the time we used to spend on travelling, bonding with family and friends, taking a break from work, running some errands and pampering or “me time” - as we were required to stay at home in order to be safe from the virus. In just a blink of an eye, things around us changed a lot and we cannot do everything the way we used to. But life must go on, and we have no choice but to adapt to the changes brought about by this pandemic especially that we still cannot see the end of this yet.

A lot of businesses around the globe have been greatly affected by the lockdown that was implemented in order to keep things under control - they needed to close down temporarily, while unfortunately some had to close down permanently. Most businesses affected were those that have daily face to face transactions with customers such as stores, shops, spas, clinics and salons. If your favorite salon or spa is one of those many businesses that had to close down during the lockdown, then you must be worried about your beauty maintenance.

It actually doesn’t matter if your hair or your nails grow long as you can maintain them easily. But what most people struggle to maintain is the eyebrows. Let’s admit it, sometimes, eyebrows are best maintained by our trusted salon person. But since we are not allowed to go out and get to the salon anytime we want to, we should learn how to do it ourselves.

If you have been doing this or maybe you are used to grooming your eyebrows all on your own then lucky you, that’s a great advantage. But if you are one of those who struggle maintaining their eyebrows, then let us share with you some ways on how to take care of your eyebrows while at home.

Eyebrow Care 101

Make sure to keep it moisturized

Keeping your eyebrows moisturized is very important as this can reduce the chances of premature aging and sagging skin which can affect your eyebrow’s shape.

Condition your brows

This may sound strange if you really haven't done it before, but conditioning your eyebrows is a must. If you are experiencing eyebrow hair loss, then that is a sign that your eyebrows are weak and might be in need of conditioning. If you are thinking of the conditioning you are doing after shampooing your hair, yes it is exactly what it is, but you must use Brow Conditioner to avoid rashes or irritation. You can use coconut oil or castor oil , just add vitamin E for an extra boost.

Trim your eyebrows.

Eyebrows grow very long and fast. In just a matter of weeks you will notice that it grows thicker and spreads out of shape. That’s what we hate to happen.

Just like trimming your hair, or your bangs, doing it on your eyebrows can be a disaster too. Which is why most of us are leaving it to the experts. But being in a lockdown for not only a month or two, you will not be happy with how your brows will turn out so it is still better to trim it but just make sure to use brow scissors and follow some steps to make it successful. If you don’t own a pair of brow scissors, just leave it alone. Using ordinary scissors will just leave it botchy and we don’t want that.

Use brow soap to keep it in shape.

Brow soaps have been very popular during this lockdown as it is a great tool to groom the brows. It gives it a great shape, and strong hold that makes thin eyebrows look fuller.

At Bondi Lash Lab, we understand if you are still hesitant to do anything with your eyebrows. That is completely fine. If you really cannot have the guts to do the maintenance process by yourself, just leave your eyebrows alone until you can have the chance to revisit your eyebrows specialist and get them fixed the way they used to. But know that we are here to help you on your eyebrow maintenance journey to give some tips and tricks and products that will be best for you.

Remember, just like any other part of your body, give your eyebrows TLC too!

#eyebrow care #eyebrow care tips

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werewolfbeans · 6 years

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Werewolf Boyfriend 2/2

If you’ve seen the first part then run right over here! \(^◇^；)

Disclaimer: There is near death experiences and death in general mentioned in this ficlet, please don’t read if you’re sensitive to this material ;;

Sewing was not a form of artistry that you followed.

You can vaguely remember a visiting family member giving you a botchy quilt, the mixture of cloth being a variety of garish colors. Neon greens did not mix well with midnight blues and cherry reds, too chaotic on the eyes. If you stared too long your head would begin to ache from the overflow of pure excitement on a blanket.

Regardless, your younger self had cherished it, no matter how red you made your skin from the constant itching.

A reminder to not pick sandpaper as your base for a creation.

However, your partner was rather good at this talent of weaving. Whether it came to molding hair, manipulating string, or carefully guiding a pointed edge, he had surprisingly gentle hands when it came to the creation of comfort. It was shocking to observe what sees a sewing needle through it’s life in soft cotton cloth can tear apart a fully grown elk to leave on your doorstep. Isn’t that how predators have always been though? For most the sound of gnashing teeth is all that comes to thought with the sight of him. For very little is the lip tightly curled over silver crochet hooks, your skin in range of the risk with the thread you were made with.

So thin.

With where the both of you live, so far out from civilization, he worries when you wander the woods alone.

Autumn is coming to a slow end. You need to get the last of your browns before the snow drowns it. Red and green paint was never your strongest suit.

But he insists.

Finely crafted sweaters over your shoulders, an adroit made crown with the ingredients of dying leaves upon your head. It is soon replaced with a fuzzy hat, puff ball extra fluffed on the end. His anxieties lead him to only make more, one of the only activities that sooth his soul. And though you can tell that your warmth when you leave helps him calm, he only begins to fear something else.

It’s a natural response, really. Wolves never usually travelled without their loved ones, especially when their skin is fine silk.

You really shouldn’t have turned around when you headed for the door, supply bag thrown over your shoulder.

His whine, a malicious thing, unfortunately lead you to look back.

Tail wagging behavior wasn’t a common thing for your wolf, despite body language being a big part of your conversations. But you wouldn’t need to look at more than his eyes to tell what he wanted.

He’s got pins and needles over the flap of his muzzle. Big creatures like this shouldn’t cower when they tower over a being so weak.

And yet he heels.

Fidgeting with his claws, his large brown eyes just stare at you.

He looks too sad for you to leave him there.

Maybe you’ll even let him come more often. A wolf the size of a bear while crouching over, bending his ear to listen to your latest story. Sometimes he laughs, a loud, intimidating thing. Like a playful growl compared to his vicious one, burly and low toned. Your’s beside it makes the two of you sound like a chorus of bells.

Eventually you grow too cold when the sun’s heartbeat begins to slow, and the moon chaperones the sky for a short while until it can find the strength to reach up again. Your sweater can only do so much, and your eyes weren’t made for seeing at night. He doesn’t hesitate to take the chance of his fur getting all over you. The positive side of it is that your partner is a walking oven, and you don’t even realize that you’d fallen asleep in his arms until he’s laying you down underneath the covers of a cold bed.

Yes, perhaps you’ll take him with you more often.

The shedding stops being annoying when he curls up at your side, snuffling against your hair and rubbing his scent all over your shoulders. A wolf thing, you were told long ago.

Another morning to be spent scrubbing his musk off of you.

The arrival of snow has him rolling around like a dog outside, his brown coat looking like icing poured over rich chocolate cake.

He blatantly ignores your insistence that he not come in with wet paws. The cold water sinks into your fuzzy socks, reminding you that you should probably buy more. They tended to disappear slowly for one excuse or another. Add it to the list of groceries and things that need to be fixed.

You can’t really be angry at him, though. Not when the only reason he ran inside was because of the ‘overwhelming urge to give you kisses’, he signs. You snort in laughter through all the cowlicks and dog saliva, watching as his tongue sticks out in his confusion, pink sliver just showing underneath his nose.

Horrible.

You have a feeling Winter will be fun.

Your trees have gone completely nude, and the usual route you take to find reference for paintings is now more boring than ever. Another path will have to be made by your shoes over time, just as this one was. The weather suggested no big occurences happening including snow, so wandering aimlessly should be safe without getting too lost.

The wolf doesn’t worry as terribly as before, since the bears have decided to lay to rest for the season. Unfortunately, he still crochets another sweater for you to wear while he goes on his hunts. The colors are neutral and calm, but you know the ugly christmas one is coming. You can see yourself loving it already.

You paint a dark brown wolf that day, glazed over with flakes of snow like a donut.

He is flustered that you thought of him in your free time, and your kisses to his forehead only make his tail wag more.

And you thought wolf’s ears weren’t supposed to be floppy.

For anyone else, they aren't.

Decorations are much easier than any other year you'd put them up.

He's a big help when he isn't tracking mud into the carpet. You need to add pet wash to your grocery list.

The tree was real this year, something you never saw yourself getting into the hassle of doing. You're lucky to have partnered with someone who can wield their claws as an axe. It was a tight fit, but the house’s ceiling is thankfully tall, and can handle the pine’s branches reaching for it. It's definitely worth all the work, since the house smells so lovely afterwards. Nothing like those scented candles you always depended on for all these years.

Hanging the lights is a different story.

You'll need to take notes for the next Christmas. The only paper you have nearby is the calendar, but it'll do.

A situation:

A tall, burly wolf, teeth completely clamped around the wire to a set of lights. His body is tangled in Rudolph red noses, the bulbs winking in holiday spirit. They're laughing at him.

You aren't cruel, so of course you set the whining predator free.

After a few photos.

Despite the fact that only the two of you are there to appreciate the house, a more cozy feeling settles into your stomach. A first holiday season with your loved one. A new romance. The slate of the garden is clean, and full of new options of what to plant when trickles of Spring come by. Crocus was always his favorite. Perhaps your love will bloom along with the flower when you plant it.

The morning is cold and the air sweet when you head out with your supplies. The weather is expected to be mild in your area, so being bold isn’t as much a risky idea than usual.

The bigger question, is how long will it take to find something to paint? You hardly find much interest in the plain white backgrounds and scattered naked trees. Wild life is appreciated, but the fuzzy brown deer that you see occasionally aren’t too interested in holding still for your reference. Perhaps you’ll need to need to buy a book full of pictures of them. You haven’t been to the nearby town’s library for a while now.

There’s the peek of the sun behind stitched in clouds for a moment, but it quickly hides again when reminded of the season. Maybe it’s off schedule this year.

When your supplies are set up, it is in front of a very simple piece. The remnants of Fall, like a single survivor from your favorite time of year. Packing your browns and reds was certainly a smart idea.

A barely crumpled red and yellow leaf, at least the size of your palm, resting half frozen in the snow. The background is a cold white mixed with light shades of blue, only the middle of your painting refreshing the eyes with such a warm mixture of colors.

You can only guess that you’re a few miles from your usual trail when the wind picks up.

The weather is to be laid back. You had watched the weather channel like you do every morning today.

But when did nature ever listen to the cries of man?

The fur around your hood is following the air upstream, and you know when the frost begins to grow over your canvas that leaving home was a grave mistake.

You should never waste your watercolor. But this was a very big exception.

The bags of supplies where you were left behind, your small body was not dressed up enough for a snow storm. Your running in the basic direction of the trail was a foolish idea, and through the splattered white acrylic paints you could soon see nothing to remind you of how far out you truly were.

The wind screamed with you for a living being to aid.

And it was the only voice you heard back.

Your stumbling through cold, too cold, lead to your fall.

It reminded you of your short lived love of climbing. How some mountains were so large and plagued by snow that many died with their journeys. How they had that realization of death when they finally fell.

How many of them had accepted it.

You could feel the weight of nature’s storm halfway up your back before your eyes closed.

The first holiday season.

Was the wolf sitting beside the fire after playing in the paint?

You hope he dried them off before he came in.

He knows you hate it when your socks get wet right as you walk inside.

…

….

It’s warm.

The fire is cackling next to you, and rested upon your shoulders is that horrible uneven cut blanket. He made it right when you purchased his first book on crochet, looked so excited when he gave it to you.

Terrible.

You love it.

Everything is very fuzzy for a moment. You can remember what happened, but not how you arrived back in your house. Your living room. Warm colors for cool eyes.

It’s when you call his name that it begins to make sense.

Something crashes in the kitchen, something you’ll need to sweep up later, and he slams too hard into the wall leading to the family room you rest in. You faintly wonder if he was trying to cook again, and how much damage he did to the counters if so.

There’s barely the register of the thought of a hole in your wall before the big wolf hugs you.

He’s very good at sewing things up. You’re sure he can take care of this too.

Just add it to the grocery list and things that need to be fixed.

And through all the crying, the tail wagging, the tongue giving you puppy kisses on your cheeks, you can only laugh at the sudden affection.

Such a large creature with needles behind his lip, one with a head twice as large as your own, broad shoulders like arms curled around you already. There’s still a few flecks of snow on his fur.

Donut dog.

His shaking goes down a bit when you hug him back, speak to him.

“I’m okay, puppy.”

He adores you.

#;v;)#hope u did one whole enjoyment #monster boyfriend #werewolf boyfriend #a boofy boy im love

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alexcmay · 5 years

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shannaraisles · 7 years

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Her Beacon And Her Shield - Chapter 31

The Arbor Wilds was proving to be unforgiving terrain to travel through.

Quite apart from the bands of red templars spread through the bright greenery of the place, it was filled with elven ruins - great, crumbling edifices of stone choked with crawling vines and gnarled roots, humming with the ancient magic that had once gone into the building and maintaining of what must have been a jewel of a city. The Wilds had reclaimed it all, gathering its suffocating limbs over every arch and stone until all that remained were glimpses into a world long since lost to time. The air was thick and hot with the growth of so much wildness, cloying and sticky, with no breeze to alleviate the never-ending sense of oppression.

After three days, Amelia and her party were obliged to relinquish their mounts to continue on foot, making their way from one friendly camp to the next as they struck deep into the Wilds on Corypheus' trail. The fifth night found them within a mile or so of the main bulk of Corypheus' army, entering a Grey Warden camp to get some rest before continuing on. As Thom and Varric made straight for the food, Amelia's first port of call was the freshwater pool, splashing cool moisture onto her hot face to try and relieve some of the nausea the encompassing heat was inflicting upon her.

"Amelia."

She looked up, unable to keep from smiling at the worried expression on Cassandra's face. The Seeker passed her a freshly-filled water-skin, watching closely as she washed out her mouth before drinking.

"Are you well?" Cassandra asked in concern. "You are flushed, and pale. And I have not seen you eat since dawn."

"It's just the heat, Cassandra," she promised her friend. "There's so little air here ... it's making me a bit queasy, that's all."

"It is close," Cassandra agreed, washing her own face with a cloth. "And, of course, you wear cloth armor. That will feel hotter as it takes on the moisture from the air. You have not been bitten?"

Amelia snorted with laughter. "Not like Varric and Thom, no," she assured the Seeker in amusement. "I suppose I just don't have enough body hair to tempt the biting insects away from them."

By contrast, Varric's hairy chest and Thom's luxuriant beard were infested with tiny purple lice that no amount of combing or repellent could remove. They were both miserable, complaining constantly ... and judging by Cassandra's smirk, she found it just as funny as Amelia did. To add insult to injury, Dorian was so fastidious with his cleanliness that he had nothing at all infesting his glorious mustache. They'd camped together last night, before their main party had broken off, and the teasing around the fire had been too much for Sera to handle. The poor victims were going to have to shave if they wanted to avoid getting any kind of infection - Thom was already planning to do just that, sick of the random bites that hurt hours after being inflicted and kept him from sleeping easily. Varric was holding out for some kind of magical intervention, which he didn't yet believe might actually entail burning his chest hair off at the roots.

"Inquisitor!"

Amelia turned to find a familiar elf at her back - one of Leliana's most trusted agents. "Charter, isn't it?"

"Yes, your worship." Charter handed her a small sheaf of messages. "Dispatches for you."

Swallowing another mouthful of water, Amelia handed the skin back to Cassandra, taking the papers as she did so. "How are we doing, Charter?"

"Several large encampments of red templars have already been cleared, with minimal casualties on our part," the elven agent reported, watching as she glanced through the dispatches that were marked with Cullen's familiar scrawl. "The bulk of Corypheus' army seems to be headed northward; scouts are engaged in delaying tactics. Corrupted Wardens have been sighted among the enemy, but there appears to be a third party in the field."

"Someone else has joined the fighting?" Amelia asked in a sharp tone, wondering why she hadn't been made aware of this sooner. Had Josephine convinced another ally to join in, too? "On whose side?"

"Neither, your worship," Charter told her. "It appears to be an unknown elven force, and they attack indiscriminately. So far, any attempt to make contact with them has been met with violence."

Amelia sighed. "And I thought this would be simple," she said wearily. "Thank you, Charter. Any news on Lady Morrigan's progress?"

Charter bit down a smirk. "She reached the main camp at midday," she said in amusement. "She caught Madame de Fer trying to convince the Empress not to trust her."

"Oh, I bet that went down well," Amelia responded, attempting not to laugh. Morrigan and Vivienne had been at each other's throats for weeks now, and despite the severity of their enmity, it was very funny to watch.

"Commander Cullen had them forcibly separated after an hour," Charter informed her almost gleefully. "And only because the madame threw a fireball too close to the trebuchets."

Amelia laughed, shaking her head. "I'm sorry I missed that," she mourned impishly. "Thank you. Don't forget to get some rest yourself. It looks like everything is coming to a head tomorrow."

"Yes, your worship."

As Charter moved away, Amelia headed for the nearest campfire, where her party had settled themselves among the Grey Wardens. She flicked through the dispatches, half an ear on the conversations around her. Both King Alistair and Grand Duke Gaspard had shown up unexpectedly, but Cullen reported that they had taken their forces west and south without argument. It seemed as though both men just wanted to be able to say they had been here. Morrigan's report confirmed that Corypheus was searching the elven ruins - her assumption that he was looking for the eluvian seemed to be accurate. They had to prevent him from reaching it, at all costs.

A scraping sound from nearby had her smiling as she looked up. Thom had taken a sharp blade to his full beard, in the process of removing the infested hair before the constant bites drove him insane. It appeared that a fair number of the Wardens had already done so themselves; there were several newly-clean chins on display.

A young Warden offered her a bowl of steaming stew. "You should eat, your worship," he recommended. "No telling when your next chance'll come."

Despite feeling her stomach roil at the smell of the stew, she took the bowl gratefully. "You're right," she agreed. Maybe eating would calm her nausea. She hated being so hot and uncomfortable. "Dare I ask what's in this, Warden ...?"

"Gower, your worship," the boy told her, his expression lit up with pleasure that the Inquisitor had asked for his name. "I killed it myself."

A robust laugh sounded from the other side of the fire, where a female Warden was stowing her gear for the night. "The lads brought down a brace of those bright birds," she explained cheerfully. "Took forever to pluck 'em, but they taste all right. I'm Hanneth."

"Give me ram any day," Varric complained mildly. He'd never been at home eating anything that could fly. Bull's enthusiastic enjoyment of dragon-meat had actually turned the dwarf pale.

"Meat is meat," Thom pointed out, wiping his now smooth face dry. His skin was botchy with bites, but they'd heal. "Won't be turning my nose up at it."

"Looking good, Hero," Varric complimented him, absently scratching at his itchy chest. "Gonna keep it that way?"

Thom rubbed a hand thoughtfully over his bald chin, wincing as his fingers rubbed a few sensitive spots. "I may," he conceded. "The beard's easier to maintain, though. Warmer in winter, too."

"I think the beard suits you," Cassandra offered, glancing down awkwardly as they all looked her way. "Not that my opinion should matter."

"The opinion of a beautiful woman is always welcome, my lady," Thom assured her, grinning as the Seeker blushed and turned her focused attention back to eating.

"Does that work on all women?" Gower asked curiously. "That ... flattery thing."

"Isn't flattery if it's true, lad," Thom told him warmly. "The Seeker's a beautiful woman. Like the Inquisitor is. They should be told so, especially in places like these."

"Why especially here?" the lad asked, his curiosity piqued by the straight answer.

"It's fairly simple, kid," Varric interjected. "Nasty forest, hot and uncomfortable, long days walking through mud ... no one looks their best. Reminding them they're beautiful is a courtesy."

"It's good manners, lad," Thom clarified for Gower.

The young Warden nodded slowly, turning to Amelia with obvious intent. "You are very beautiful, Inquisitor."

To her credit, she managed not to laugh at his earnest compliment. "That's very kind of you to say, Warden Gower."

As Gower turned to bestow the same compliment on Hanneth, however, the older Warden stopped him in his tracks. "Don't even think about it," she informed him with a grin. "I'm a weathered old fart, and I know it."

The round of laughter that went up at this was comfortable and warm - the Wardens knew each other well, easy in each other's company. Gower blushed even as he grinned, accepting that he'd been less than smooth in his wish to spread a little friendly warmth around the campfire. Chuckling at the boy's embarrassment, Varric turned his attention back to Amelia.

"Anything interesting in those, Duchess?" he asked, nodding to the dispatches on her knee.

She swallowed her mouthful, glad her theory about eating to quell her nausea was correct. "It seems as though there are elves here who don't want us or Corypheus in the Wilds," she told them with a shrug.

"Great, now the Dalish want us dead, too," the dwarf grumbled with sarcastic good humor. "Any good news?"

"We're close enough that tomorrow is the final push?" she offered, not sure if that qualified as good news. "They think they know where Corypheus is headed, but he hasn't been sighted yet."

"Inquisitor?"

Amelia raised her eyes to meet the worried gaze of young Warden Gower.

"Is it true that Corypheus still has Wardens under his control?" he asked, and suddenly she was aware of many ears around her straining to hear her answer.

"It is," she told him, refusing to lie. They deserved to know the truth of the matter. "Despite the Nightmare's defeat, somehow Corypheus retains control over a tiny fraction of Warden mages. I won't ask you, any of you, to fight your brothers and sisters, but we need your help against the demons they will summon."

"I would rather die at the hand of a brother, than live the mindless slave of a darkspawn magister," the young man declared. "I know they would, too."

"Aye," Hanneth agreed solemnly. "If their only freedom is in death, then we should be the ones to give it to them."

"Better a brother than a stranger," another Warden said, and Amelia felt a faint chill ripple down her spine as she recognized the voice. Her head turned, seeking out its owner ... and there was Lorent, armored and armed, sat just outside the circle of light. His eyes were fixed balefully on her as a muscle ticked in his jaw. She knew what he meant by his words, even if others did not.

"Grey Warden or not, Trevelyan, if you threaten the Inquisitor again, I will kill you myself," Cassandra said sharply. She hadn't missed the implied threat either, it seemed.

"Why turn the noble sentiment of your fellow Wardens into a threat against the only reason you still live?" Thom demanded after her, tense at Amelia's side.

Her entire party was tense, subtly shifting to place themselves between Amelia and her brother. No one wanted a fight here and now, with those who were their allies, but if Lorent persisted in threatening her, Cassandra would not hesitate to cut him down. It was a very uncomfortable few moments. The Warden-lieutenant, however, seemed to have realized the problem, rising to haul Lorent onto his feet and march him away, into the gathering dusk.

"He'll not be allowed within a hundred yards of you, or your commander, your worship," Hanneth promised quietly as hackles smoothed and tension eased. "Takes time to put your old life behind you. Didn't think he'd be that obvious, but we thought it best to test him when we heard you'd be stopping with us tonight."

So it had been a test, and Lorent had failed it. If he'd raised a hand against her, the Wardens likely wouldn't even have turned their heads when he was killed for it. Amelia felt Thom relax, herself breathing a little easier with that knowledge. "We have enough to worry about without looking over a shoulder for a friendly blade in the back," she pointed out uncomfortably. "I wasn't aware he would be in the Wilds at all."

"We're all here," Gower said calmly. "Will we fight, Inquisitor?"

Amelia considered him for a long moment. He was young, far younger than any other Warden she had met; newly Joined, she guessed. His eyes didn't yet bear the weary acceptance of death other Wardens wore. "If you truly feel you can bear arms against the mages who should be standing beside you," she said carefully, "then who am I to stop you? My friends and I will be leaving long before dawn. Those who are certain they want to be in this fight may join us. Those who remain will not be thought any the less of for their choice."

Judging by the expressions on the faces all around her, she had said the right thing. Not all the Wardens felt the same way, as she could well imagine. She had given them an honorable out, assured them that they were not any the lesser for choosing not to engage in battle directly against mages they might once have called friend. Amelia doubted more than ten would be joining her when she moved on in a few hours, but those who did would do it by their own choice, not under orders.

"Where did that lieutenant take Trevelyan?" she asked suddenly.

"He'll be at the guard fire, about fifty paces that way," Hanneth told her, jerking her head in the appropriate direction. "Why'd you ask?"

Amelia sighed, rising to her feet. "Because he's my brother," she said regretfully. "And I can't leave it like this."

"Duchess ..."

"I'll be fine, Varric," she promised her friend. "No, Cassandra, stay here. He wouldn't risk harming me, not here. I owe myself ... one last try."

"You'll be safe with the Wardens, my lady," Thom said, more for their friends' benefit than for hers. "You've no shortage of protection here tonight."

She smiled faintly. "I know," she agreed. "I doubt this will take long."

She could feel their wary disapproval at her back as she left the campfire to walk the crushed path though the gloom to where Lorent and two others sat at the guard fire. Her brother scowled as she sat down beside him, unable to lift a finger against her even if he'd had the courage to do it himself. His fellow Wardens had fitted him with finger-cuffs and elbow braces, just in case, and sat with their blades bared. Neither one made any move to rise as Amelia sat. Despite a vain wish for privacy, everyone here knew that Lorent Trevelyan could not yet be trusted around the Inquisitor. They all seemed to have forgotten that she was a mage, but never mind. It felt ... good ... to be so safe.

"What do you want?" Lorent muttered eventually, when her silence proved too much for his patience to bear.

"I want my brother back," she answered simply. "The one who wasn't so consumed by personal ambition and petty paranoia. He was always an arse, but he never tried to kill me."

"Don't pretend innocence, Amelia," he scoffed derisively. "You've won. You'll inherit everything when Father dies."

"No. I won't. And I never want to." She turned her head to look at him, studying his profile. He was still handsome, still sullen. The Joining had not changed that, at least. "You were always Father's first. Kurt and Wolf and Max ... it never occurred to them to contest your claim because it was yours. Evelyn couldn't have cared less about the title. And me? I'm a mage, in case you forgot. I couldn't inherit even if I wanted to. I don't want to. But all of us ... we would have stood at your side against any challenger, if you hadn't pushed us all away. And now Father has no one but cousin Albrecht to pass the title to. Why did you do it?"

He remained silent for a long time at this, staring into the flames before them. Was he even capable of understanding what he had thrown away in their childhood, she found herself wondering. All her life, he had viewed her and their siblings as a threat, working always to discredit them in their father's eyes, never accepting that they were more interested in their own lives than his rightful inheritance. And even after that imagined threat had been eliminated so violently at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, he had continued to work against her, each decision more terrible than the last, until finally he found himself here.

"She wasn't my mother," he said finally, his words shocking Amelia into stillness. "You didn't know, any of you. My mother was a serving wench. The only reason Father acknowledged me at all was because she died birthing me. He felt guilty ... and his wife wouldn't allow him to abandon me. All my life, I had to prove that I deserved my place as his heir. Any one of you had a stronger claim than I, and he never let me forget it."

Amelia stared at him, startled by words she had never expected to hear. "But Mother, she -"

"She never treated me any differently," he said, finishing her sentence before it began. "I know. She took me for her own, and never once did she hold my parentage against me. Why do you think I never moved openly against any of you until after her death? I loved her more dearly than I would have loved my own mother, because she chose me. I'm glad she didn't live to see us come to this."

"She was a good woman," Amelia agreed softly. "I miss her everyday."

"As do I." Lorent sighed heavily, shaking his head. "Her death changed Father. He grew colder, more unforgiving. You were lucky to be out from under his eye. Everything that reminded him of her was destroyed. Even Kurt was sent away. But not me. He kept me close, forced me to watch as a good man became a hard, cold monster, and I learned to hate her for dying. I hated her for leaving me alone to deal with him. I hated all of you for being her children. And I despise you for being so much like her."

What should have been a compliment was offered up as an example of the worst crime she would possibly commit, yet in that moment Amelia understood her elder brother better than she ever had before. Her mother had been one of the kindest souls she had ever known. Their father had adored her, built his life around her, and when that centerpiece was suddenly snatched away, he had fallen apart. And he had made sure that only Lorent suffered with him.

"I'm not so much like her," she told him in a quiet tone. "I don't have her boundless forgiveness. You despise me? I don't care. I've hated you since I was four years old, and I don't see that changing just because our lives are so very different now. If you die tomorrow, I doubt I'll mourn you."

"If you die tomorrow, I'll probably curse your dying breath," he answered in kind, both of them regretfully matter-of-fact about their feelings toward each other. They had never been so honest, and likely never would again. "It will mean Corypheus won, and that would be something else to hate you for. So don't die, Amelia. Kill him first, at least."

"That's my intention," she assured him, oddly comforted by this strange conversation that felt like a parting of the ways. "Try not to let the Grey Wardens be wiped out, would you? There are still at least two more Blights to come."

He nodded to her, accepting this last suggestion calmly. "Go back to your friends, Amelia," he said in a low tone. "There's nothing left to say."

He was right. She rose slowly, letting her hand brush his stiff shoulder for a brief moment before falling away. "Goodbye, Lorent."

Stepping away, Amelia lingered in the darkness between the campfires. It hadn't been the reconciliation she had told herself she wanted, nor the brawl she had feared she might initiate. But it was a goodbye, the last they would ever share. The only way either of them could let their shared past go was by never crossing paths again. Perhaps Lorent would finally feel worthy and secure among the Wardens. Perhaps she could finally stop looking over her shoulder for fear of him. Somewhere, before her birth, their story had been rewritten without either one of them knowing how. If this was the way it ended, then so be it.

Fate had set her on a different course, and tomorrow might well find her face to face with the worst evil in the world. When set against Corypheus ... Lorent just didn't compare. And that, perhaps, was the final blow he could not tolerate. After all his years of scheming and hatred, he just didn't matter anymore. She had a higher purpose, and no petty feud could stand in its path. She just had to hope she didn't let anyone else down as she went.

#her beacon and her shield #multi-chapter fic #dragon age inquisition #dragon age fanfiction #dai #fanfiction #writing #cullen rutherford/female trevelyan #amelia rutherford #cassandra pentaghast #blackwall/rainier #varric tethras #charter #lorent travelyan #grey wardens #arbor wilds

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genandherramblings · 5 years

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Rosacea + Acne (what works for me)

Backstory: I’ve had rosacea in my family for a while, it’s sometimes hereditary and in my case, I also had to take hardcore medication for my Crohn’s (chemotherapy) and it flared up my initial tiny-2-3-dots of rosacea to a REAL problem and burned my skin.

What I’ll write here is my own skincare routine, which was slightly adjusted by my own dermatologist (FINALLY got to see one, jesus).

Take this with a grain of salt y’all.

I did go to my newly-acquired (adopted) Dermatologist, and she’s super nice and yeah, so here we go.

SHOWER

Here’s my skincare routine. Helped A LOT with acne and a big plus with chemo-induced-Rosacea. Feel free to adjust to your OWN skin, that’s what matters most!

1) Use no scrubs or loofas! Only your hands/fingers/soft clean materials. They irritate the skin and accentuate the redness in it. Plus, I feel it doesn’t help with sensitive skin, since scrubbing with rough materials, even lightly, cause micro-tears in your skin resulting in more scars.

2) NO scalding hot showers! Go for warm instead. It dries out your skin and no bueno, you don’t want that.

3) I personally start with foam soaps - my go to is this bad boi, Aveno Clear Complexion FOAM Cleanser. The “clear-thing” helped my angry red-skin tbh and the foam is sooooo nice + my dermatologist recommended me foam-stuff (if you can’t afford medical cleasers / appointments to dermato, go foamy). It’s softer on your skin! TRY FOAM, AVENO OR NOT, I SWEAR

(Fuck me, that picture is BIG. I don’t know what I’m doing, might remove later, idk.)

#4) Wash your face g e n t l y with this and rinse off. Like, remove your makeup with it and go on with your shower, as usual.

#5) When washing your hair, try to do it before you wash your skin. Since you often have oils and others in your shampoo/conditioner, ya don’t want your pores all opened up and getting the oil at the end of your shower. Instead, do the following:

Wash your face quick and nice first time to remove makeup.

Wash your hair and add the conditioner.

While letting the conditioner sit, wash your body, shave, etc.

Last thing last, re-wash your face more thoroughly with the foam, again.

Now, step 4 is where my dermatologist would whoop my ass; she suggested to wash my face at the end, and in the beginning of my shower, simply rinse makeup off with water + soft soap. Washing your face too much is no good, BUT THAT’S HOW I ROLL MMMMKAY. I feel dirty otherwise ):

Last but not least, when out of that hot shower, if you’re too cheap like me to buy a “night” toner or something, rinse your face with cold water. I usually get out of the shower, wrap myself and rinse my face 2-3 times with a splash of cold water to close my pores, but don’t over-do it! You still want open pores to put your night-cream!

AFTER SHOWERING (Acne stuff)

That’s when, depending on break-out or not, I’ll do the following:

Acne Breakout ™ : Apply your anti-acne gels and lotions. Let it sit while brushing your teeth or something. Once it’s all in, apply your night-cream or just a simple hydrating cream.

I-have-the-face-of-God™-and-don’t-have-acne: I hate you, but also, simply add a bit of hydrating cream / lotion. Let it get in your skin as well.

SLEEP WITH CLEAN PILLOWCASE!!! Your skin is still warm for the shower, even if you rinsed it with cold water + added your night creams, the dead skin and other bacteria from your day + nights end up there. CHANGE IT, I never did before and my dermatologist was like “Bruh.” Yeah, do it.

DURING THE DAY

Here’s what I do in the morning :D

Wash face with Dove scent-free soap bar and cold-warm water.

Pat (NEVER RUB YOU POTATO!) to dry - rubbing is like scrubbing and can cause tears in the skin!

Apply tout-de-suite your hydrating cream. I like Cetaphil and if you feel fancy, Neutrogena Hydro-Boost. Again, please take whatever your skin likes! No need to be these two!

Brush ya teeth while it sets in. I hate having something on my skin but yeah, I have to do this now!

Dermatologist tip for summer : Also add a layer of sun lotion made for your face.

Start with your eye / lips / brow makeup and do your hair. The more time you let your products settle in, the better it is!

Apply your usual skin makeup. Ideally, in the perfect world, we wouldn’t feel pressure to hide our flaws BUT I do and maybe you too, so add it last!

WHAT DO YOU USE? (Found in Walmart + Pharmacy)

Until very recently, I had no help from dermatologists whatsoever (took me a year to get one) and here’s what I use (also approved by my Brand-New Dermatologist™ :

To clean : Aveno Clear Complexion Foam Cleanser but also, my mother uses this one for her rosacea (also from Aveno) and Dove’s basic, unscented soap bar. Think simple and gentle! Does not need to be those brands, but they are my go-to.

To scrub : Once in a while, it doesn’t hurt to scrub - go green or homemade. Scrubs with plastic beads in it are BAD for the environment and your skin! >:(

To hydrate : As mentioned above, I like scent-free stuff like Cetaphil and although Neutrogena Hydro-Boost has a slight smell to it, it’s not “perfume-ish” and is faint. I like it personally.

Makeup : THIS BITCH. If you have ACNE, I 200% recommend it. I’ve been using it for a while now and if you have botchy skin that’s bumpy with pimples and scars or just heavy red skin, that’s my absolute FAVE. For me at least, it’d fill the “cracks” of my skin and even it out. It is a bit thicker, but it’s also light and fluffy. It is:

Sweat-resistant

Noice finish

I just love it tbh

If you can tho, try liquid foundations that have FPS protection or some form of sunscreen in it. Liquid foundations tend to have hydrating stuff in them and are easier. HOWEVER, with acne, I find versus mousse, they do get into your thirsty skin, that mistakes it for water and drinks it up = drinking makeup = more breakouts.

Ultimately, it’s what your skin feels best in!

Hope this helped someone out there lmao, thanks for coming to my TED talk.

PS: ALWAYS FOLLOW YOUR HEART SKIN - This is what I use, and am no professional but felt like sharing it.

I’ll also post another freakin’ digital TED Talk on skin products that my dermatologist prescribed me, see how they work and maybe you can ask your doctor for them too! Prolly a review of some sort! :)

- Gen

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