#Aldi roses

[artbyisabelh]

Propogation in a Jar - Update

I’ve been eagerly anticipating sharing this update, but I had to undergo cervical spine surgery which set me back a bit. Upon returning home from the surgery, I noticed some roots peeking through the soil. I had my daughter relocate the jar with the growing plants into my study so I could observe them closely. Despite the challenges, here’s the outcome: out of the 10 plants I placed in glass…

[rapid-oxidization]

anyway SUCH a shot in the dark but I was rifling through some old stuff and found a Blue Rose quickstart module that I picked up a couple years back while visiting a nerd store in my city...... im very much wanting to learn more abt the world/lore and so wanted to ask is there ANY presence here. im willing to read through the sourcebooks but if there is a community here that will make it soooooooooooo much easier and less painful

[thekylemeredith]

This week on the Kyle Meredith With... podcast, I'll welcome Natalie Morales (Parks and Rec), Mary Timony (Ex Hex), Aldis Hodge (Leverage), & Daryl J Johnson (Drunk History)

And on @WFPK (6p ET), I'll be hanging with Duff McKagan (Guns 'n' Roses), McKenna Grace (Ghostbusters), Peter Capaldi (Dr. Who), Jack Antonoff (Bleachers), & Stephin Merritt (Magnetic Fields)!

Pictured: My favorite visits in NYC include every bakery that I pass.

#NatalieMorales #exhex #AldisHodge #drunkhistory #gunsnroses #mckennagrace #petercapaldi #drwho #JackAntonoff #bleachers #magneticfield #themagneticfields

[auberginecrochet]

Happy valentine's day everyone! Here's my first try at baking those simple jam-filled cookies ❤️🍪

[diejager]

could I please request some dad Makarov content? there's like none out there and I think he'd actually be a good dad

I just wanna see him with his own cute little babies

Cw: fluff, ballerina, proud dad!Makarov, protective behaviour, tell me if I missed any. Note: every dialogue written in italic is spoken in Russian.

Your father was the loveliest person you knew. Vladimir Makarov may be an initimidating person with all his smarts and slyness, but he was soft and tender, a loving father and a caring provider to your life. He was all you’d known, you didn’t know your mother, your grandparents, your uncles and aunts, or any cousins, but all you needed was him, your father. He gave you all you needed and didn’t need, any wish or after though conjured up with his endless amount of money, pampering you with luxuries and comfort few knew.

You didn’t have friends, but you knew your father’s allies - he insisted that you called them allies because he’d never considered them friends. He told you that they were below him and you, dogs on a tight leash that would follow him as long as he gave them what he promised - they were prominent figures in your life, passing or stopping by Makarov’s well-fortified mansion to speak to him in his office, the one you once compared to a war room when you were young, your nose buried in fantasy books to fulfill your need to explore the world when all that was within your reach was inside your golden cage. 

The world on the other side of the wall was a stranger —a danger, your father mumbled to you at night, promising that he’d protect you as long as he still breathed. You were homeschooled, the bests academics invited to tutor you since you were young, from mathematics and literature to language and politics, you were taught by the best, in the little office Makarov kept renovating as you aged. He changed the desk, then the chair, and when the paint started yellowing, he had the whole room repainted in a soft sage to compliment your bright mind. You father was such a perfect parent that you hated disappointing him, you did all you could to reach his expectations and listened to his orders. 

“Мой изящный Лебедь,” he clapped his hands, his eyes gleaming proudly as he watched you twirl and dance in the polished floor of your home studio, “That was beautiful.” [My graceful Swan.]

Your black tutu rose as threw your leg up, twirling on the hard pad of your toes, giving your father a practice show for Cinderella. You always danced for him, letting him probe and give you advice and critiques of your form. Finishing the dance off with a low bow, your legs crossed and feet spread horizontally, you smiled joyfully at him when his claps grew louder. Rising up, your met him halfway, jumping into his arms when he spread them open, peppering your face with sweet and loving kisses, his scruffy beard itching you. 

“It was perfect, you make me so proud,” he held onto you, his warm hands running smoothly over your biceps, herding you out of the studio he had built to let you practice, “You deserve a gift, my little Swan. Is there anything you want?”

“Nothing you can buy me, papa, ” you shook your head, burying your face in his chest when he sat you down on the regal, red couch.

“Then?”

“I want to go see the flowers again, papa, when they’re in full bloom. Can we?”

A soft chuckle rumbled out of his chest, he breathed in your comforting scent, nose nuzzling your hairline with a smile, small and adoring for his sole child. 

“Yes, of course.”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami

[impandgnomes]

Been working with Tegridy these past couple of weeks!!!!! This took forever to finish - so many ends to weave in lmao. I'm so glad it's done though.

I kind of posted about the Tegridy Farms blanket here like last night, but figured since it's actually done now you all deserved some pictures, alongside a repost of my notes on making it. I really love the overall vibe of the colours and composition and I like to hope that I captured some of that here.

Notes regarding yarn, sizing etc. from previous post for completion's sake under the cut:

My color choices aren't a 1:1 match with the ones in the show. I would still argue them as "realistic" versions allowing for the saturation of coloring on the BG in the show, but YMMV and gatekeeping my technically incorrect choice would be beyond silly. I just really like making stuff I see in cartoons.

I basically tried to make this thing roughly to scale with the one in the show though, as others I saw worked single strands of DK yarn, resulting in a really small blanket.

I did some math by measuring the heights of a square of the blanket and the couch on the screencap given above and cross-referencing it with the average height of a couch (regarding my formal diagnosis and to quote tiktok, "I have this thing, it's ＡＵＴＩＳＭ"). The result was each square measuring approximately 13-15cm iirc.

I just used a basic granny square layout with this method on regular DK yarn with a 7mm crochet hook to work the squares into the ideal size. They sat at just over 15cm and I somehow only just had enough of the gray yarn. I imagine from what we see that the blanket is 7x7 squares with the others hanging off the back out of sight, so I made 42 squares in total.

Most of the yarn (except the white which was just some salvaged stuff) was Aldi UK's seasonally stocked "So Crafty" acrylic Double Knit yarn, so I was certainly sweating bullets re: if I even had enough (not sure how easy substitutes would have been). Color names are Wheat, Grass, Rose Garden, and Gun Metal.

Technically the cushions are also achievable in crochet - they would use c2c (corner to corner) and I think that's 100% the intent in their design due to the blocky/pixelated appearance of the images. There's plenty of charts for images like those, but making your own would work too. I would definitely like to hear from whoever on the design team chose to put these in the BG and if they were inspired by something or someone, since with the cushions especially it feels weirdly specific to me to use crochet in like 2017 for the "homely and rustic weed farmhouse" vibe I imagine Randy trying to force here. Based on eyeballing it and my square sizes, I'd aim for a 30cm² cushion maybe.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

the rose: hot aldi cashier had a t4t tat on her inner elbow

the thorn: some old bat followed me down the length of the store demanding to know why i was wearing a mask

[thana-topsy]

Twenty-Two

Hadvar and Ralof have to work together to escape Helgen. [Read it on AO3]

[Part 1] [Part 2]

------------

He read the name from the list:

“Ralof of Riverwood.”

The words felt unreal leaving his mouth, as if spoken by someone else. The moment he had seen Ralof on the cart, the blood had drained from his face and the bottom had dropped out of his stomach. No, gods. Not like this. He had been prepared to meet Ralof in battle, perhaps even to die by his sword. But not like this… 

Hadvar looked up to meet Ralof’s eyes, wondering what he might see—fury, anger, regret? He wasn’t prepared to see righteous determination. A man proudly and willingly facing his own death. And for what? Hadvar wanted to lunge forward and grab him by the shoulders, shake him. ‘Why!?’ he wanted to scream at the man he once called his best friend. ‘Why would you throw your life away for a traitor!?’ 

But he stood still, frozen in place, quill in hand poised to check the name off his list. Ralof lifted his chin and looked away, turning to walk towards the headsman. One hundred words rose and died behind Hadvar’s teeth. He cleared his throat and called the next name. 

—

The shriek of the dragon’s shout faded as Hadvar shoved his shoulder against the door of the fort, barring it with shaking hands. He fell back against the wood, breathing heavily, sweat stinging his eyes. He could smell his own singed hair, his right arm pulsing hot with burns. How had things gone from bad to worse to catastrophic, all within twenty minutes. 

This was a nightmare. The work of Vaermina. 

Hadvar wanted to wake up.

He took a moment to gather his wits, the world spinning dizzily around him. A dragon had attacked Helgen. A dragon. A creature so powerful that it could warp reality with a single word. How was he supposed to live in a world where dragons roamed the skies? The civil war suddenly seemed so small and pointless.

The fort shuddered around him, loose rocks falling from the walls and ceiling. 

He smacked his own face then beat a fist against his chest with a growl. “Think, Hadvar, think!” Scour the fort for resources; create an exit plan. 

The fort had three exits, but they all led back out into the chaos. He could sit in the fort and wait for the dragon to leave on its own, but the idea made him feel like a coward. That, and as the fort shook with another rumble, the survival rate of that plan seemed slim to none. He glanced around the room—the barracks—and walked over to the first chest he saw, kicking it open. Spare uniforms. A bit of loose gold. He wasn’t even sure what he was looking for. He had his sword and his own two feet. He needed to move. 

He jogged from the barracks and into the adjoining chamber, running headfirst into two Stormcloak soldiers. 

There was an awkward pause in which the three of them simply stared at each other, then Hadvar took a stumbling step backwards, throwing his hands up in placation. “Wait, wait, don’t attack! Let’s just—”  

One of the soldiers let out a bellowing warcry, drawing his sword and sprinting towards Hadvar. 

His reaction was automatic, drilled into him from hours of training in the Solitude courtyards. He spun to avoid the attack while unsheathing his sword, then used the momentum to bring the sword down on the back of the man’s neck. It wasn’t a clean strike, but Hadvar felt the reverberation of the soldier’s spine cracking, blood arcing across his sword and knuckles. 

The soldier’s companion was already on him before he had time to recover, and he barely caught the downswing of her sword against his own. He threw her off balance with the force of his block and seized the opportunity to drive his sword into her chest, aiming for her heart. A quick death is a merciful death, came Captain Aldis’ voice in the back of his mind. 

The soldier looked into his eyes, her expression fearful, disbelieving. I’m sorry, he thought, but his jaw was clenched tight around the words. She coughed once, blood bubbling from her lips, then slid from his blade to the floor. 

It was over in a blink. Hadvar’s breathing was ragged, his heart pounding in his ears. He could hear the roar of the dragon outside as the fort shook around him. He had to get out, had to—

Another Stormcloak came jogging into the room. He looked down at the bodies on the floor, then to Hadvar as he readied his weapon.

It was Ralof.

All of the fight left Hadvar’s body like a candle extinguished in the wind, and he dropped his sword, dropping to his knees immediately after. “Ruh—” He couldn’t even say his name. 

Ralof was staring at him with unbridled rage in his eyes. Hadvar half-hoped he’d kill him.

“I tried—” Hadvar began, throat dry. “I tried to reason���” 

Ralof stared at him a moment longer, sword still at the ready, his lip drawn into a snarl. Finally, he spat on the ground, but sheathed his sword. “Aye,” he growled. “I heard as much.” He walked over and extended an arm, and Hadvar let himself be pulled to his feet. “Where was that mercy when you were sending me to the block, eh?”

“Those weren’t my orders,” Hadvar argued breathlessly, but it felt like a sorry excuse even to his own ears. 

“No, ‘course not,” Ralof grumbled. “Just doing whatever those Imperial dogs tell you to do, right?”

“Please, let’s not. We need to get out of here before the fort comes down around us. War be damned, that was a dragon, Ralof. A gods-damned dragon.”  

Ralof was looking into the middle distance, eyes unfocused. “Aye,” he said. “Never in my wildest dreams…” 

Hadvar took a moment to study his face. They hadn’t seen each other in over three years, and their last encounter had ended in an explosive argument that came to blows. Hadvar had walked away with a swollen and blackened eye, though he’d managed to break Ralof’s nose. He could see even now where it hadn’t quite healed right. 

“This fort will be swarming with Imperial soldiers,” Hadvar said. “We need to get you something different to wear. I found spare armor in the barracks—”

Ralof snarled at him. “I’ll be damned to Oblivion before I don Imperial armor!” 

“Think, Ralof! Forget your stubborn loyalties and think!” Hadvar took him by the shoulders. “Let’s get out of Helgen alive, first, yeah?”

The fort shook again, as if to remind them. Ralof’s scowl remained, but he nodded with a single jerk of his head. He glanced down at the bodies of his fallen comrades. “It pains me to leave them here. They deserve proper burials.” 

“If there’s anything left of the fort after this, I’ll see to it,” Hadvar promised. It was an empty promise, really, but a part of him genuinely wanted to keep it. 

They returned briefly to the barracks to exchange Ralof’s armor for that of an Imperial set, then made their way deeper into the fort. They encountered only a handful of other soldiers making their way through the fort, and, to Hadvar’s relief, none of them even spared Ralof a second glance. 

“Up ahead!” one shouted from the group down the hall. “There should be an exit that’ll put us out near the main gates.” 

Hadvar and Ralof jogged to catch up, but a massive CRACK shook the fort. Ralof lunged in front, throwing his arm in front of Hadvar to stop him right as the ceiling began to collapse. He turned and threw himself against Hadvar, toppling both of them to the ground and out of the way of the falling rubble. They coughed as the dust settled, and Hadvar felt his stomach twist at the sight of the blocked tunnel. 

“Guess we’ll have to find another way out,” he said. 

Ralof sighed, dusting off his skinned knees as he got to his feet. “Why in the name of Talos do you Imperials fight without breeches!?”

Hadvar let out a startled laugh, once more allowing Ralof to pull him to his feet. “That much we can agree upon, old friend.” 

“Easy, Hadvar,” Ralof warned, stepping away. “We are not friends. Not anymore.”

Hadvar’s heart squeezed painfully in his chest, and he clenched and unclenched his fists. “This way,” he said, beckoning Ralof to follow. “Hopefully there’s an exit further down.” 

They did not find an exit, but instead found a torture chamber. 

“Troll’s blood…” Ralof cursed under his breath. He turned slowly to look at Hadvar, rage clouding his features. “Hadvar… what in Oblivion is this?”

Hadvar was just as speechless, his eyes scanning the room. He knew these rooms existed, dappled across Skyrim in various forts. But beneath Helgen? “I—”

“Ah, did you boys come to watch or to help?” came a soft, wry voice. A man stepped out from behind a pillar, his dark eyes nearly black beneath his low hood. “Afraid we’re a little light on prisoners at the moment.” 

“There’s a dragon attacking Helgen!” Hadvar blurted. “We have to get out of here!” 

“Dragon?” the man repeated, sounding bored and dismissive. “Don’t be ridiculous.” 

“I’m telling the truth! We have to leave before it brings the fort down on our heads.” His gaze jerked to a body slumped in one of the cages. “Gods…”

“Oh him?” said the torturer, turning to look. “Don’t bother. Lost the key ages ago. He screamed for almost a full week before finally going silent.”

Ralof let out a bellow of rage, drawing his sword and charging the man. The torturer barely had time to look surprised before Ralof had buried his sword in his chest. He pulled back and shoved the man off his blade with a kick of his boot, spitting on the body before whirling on Hadvar. 

“These your men, Hadvar!?” he yelled. “Is this who you’re fighting alongside!?”

“I don’t associate with that man,” Hadvar said numbly. 

Ralof gestured to the crumpled figure with his sword, sending an arc of blood across the stone floor. “You wear the same uniform!” 

“This is war, Ralof!” he yelled back, his face and hands flooding with heat. “We’ve all heard about what Stormcloaks do with their prisoners! Are those your men? Eh?” He strode through the chamber with determination, wanting nothing more than to leave it behind him. “None of us have clean hands. Now let’s get out of here, if we can.”

He didn’t check to see if Ralof followed him, and a part of him didn’t care if he did, but he soon heard footsteps trailing behind him.   

The fort was massive, beyond what Hadvar could have imagined. To think this labyrinth had been beneath their very feet for all these years. They reached a final chamber that appeared to be a deadend until Hadvar heard the whistle of wind. 

“Hear that?” he said, holding up a hand to signal pause.

Ralof went silent, cocking his head to the side to listen. The rumble of the dragon fire had grown distant. The silence of the empty fort pressed in around them, interrupted by the strange whistle. “Sounds like a breach in the walls somewhere,” Ralof said. 

They scoured the perimeter, finding a drawbridge, and beyond that, a massive opening in the fort’s stone wall that led to a natural cave with a mountain fed river.

“If we follow the water, we may be able to find a way out of here,” said Ralof.   

Hadvar nodded. “Smart.”

Ralof gave him a scathing look. 

“I’m being genuine!” 

Grunting, Ralof ducked through the opening in the wall without sparing him another glance, and Hadvar followed with a sigh. 

After a harrowing trudge through the caverns, nearly being killed by giant spiders, sneaking past sleeping bears, and crawling their way up and out through a crack in the side of the earth, Hadvar and Ralof emerged into the daylight, blinking into the blinding sun like newborns. With barely any time to reorient themselves, the sound of the dragon roared overhead, and Ralof grabbed Hadvar by the shoulders and yanked him down to hide behind a large boulder. They watched the massive black beast fly off, roaring once more before fading into the distance. 

Hadvar gasped, pushing to his feet as realization dawned. “By the gods… It’s headed right for Riverwood! We have to go warn them!” 

“Out-run a dragon!?” Ralof argued. “Are you mad? We barely made it out of Helgen with our lives!”

“We have to do something! I’ll go to Whiterun. Alert Jarl Balgruuf. He can send guards to Riverwood. At least they’ll have a fighting chance—!”

“Hadvar, steady…” Ralof said. He’d gotten to his feet, shoulders slumped with exhaustion. “Steady,” he repeated, reaching out to take him by the shoulders. “By Talos, you haven’t changed a bit, have you?”

Hadvar blinked back at him, startled by the observation. He suddenly felt like a teenager all over again, long-buried emotions clawing their way to the surface of his mind. Ralof’s expression was almost wistful; sorrowful. Hadvar reached out to grasp Ralof’s shoulders in return, his hands shaking. “You haven’t either, you know.” 

To his surprise, Ralof smiled and let out a bitter laugh. He closed his eyes and leaned forward, sliding his hand to cup the back of Hadvar’s head, and brought their foreheads together.

Hadvar gripped the edge of Ralof’s cuirass, squeezing his eyes shut as he let out a shuddering exhale. He’d almost witnessed his friend’s execution. Almost took part in it. Now, in light of everything that had followed, he wasn’t sure if he’d have been able to live with himself had it been seen through.

I’m so glad you’re alive, he thought, but the words wouldn’t come.

Ralof pulled away and Hadvar reluctantly let his hands slide from his shoulders.

“We should probably split up,” Ralof suggested.

“You’re probably right…”

Neither of them moved. Hadvar swallowed, then opened his mouth to speak.

“Maybe—” Ralof spoke first. “We should go together to Riverwood. Split up from there.” He looked down at his Imperial armor. “Besides, I can’t go waltzing up to the nearest camp dressed like this.” He froze, eyes darting to Hadvar once more. “That is, unless you plan to take me as your prisoner.” 

Hadvar let out a breathy, nervous laugh. “My friend, a dragon just attacked Helgen. I’m not worried about taking prisoners right this moment.” His stomach dropped, realizing he’d once again referred to Ralof as his ��friend’. 

But Ralof didn’t comment on the slip-up. He simply turned his eyes back to the sky. “Aye,” he agreed. “Strange times ahead, no doubt.” 

Hadvar swallowed. 

“No doubt,” he agreed.

[boxingcleverrr]

So with the mind-boggling hilarity of people feeling the need to defend taking care of their skin, I wanted to do an update of my original skincare post. That I of course can't find, presently, as the search function on this site is still useless!

First of all, come to terms with the fact that you are walking around with a giant organ on the outside of your body (ahurhurhur).

Yes, preventing skin cancer is priority one when it comes to your dermis. Sunscreen isn't the only defense, having skin with a healthy moisture barrier is part of that prevention as well. ALSO, one thing a lot of those posts desperately yelping "It'S nOt BeAuTy StAnDaRdS!" leave out is, uh, the scary shit that can happen to your skin when you're elderly. Your skin WILL get thinner, that's just aging. Taking care of it now (keeping it stretchy and moisturized) gives it a better chance of not being paper-thin, to the point that the person taking care of you has to be mindful not to freaking tear it off of you just helping you get dressed.

If you have a strong stomach, go ahead and read some stories from hospice and other types of elder care workers. There's a whole contraption for lowering people down slowly if they're about to fall, all to prevent skin splitting or sloughing off.

Age spots are beautiful. Care-worn wrinkles and laugh lines are beautiful. Your arm skin sloughing off like a glove is not.

Fucking moisturize.

Is a side effect of that care often fewer of those lines? Sure, MAYBE, sometimes. It also doesn't at ALL require 18 expensive steps. Even before I left my job I was mainly using the best I could find for the least amount of money. Almost everything listed I've been using for over a year at least! Aldi-brand skincare is amazingly quality, as you'll see.

Washing:

Lacura Foaming Gel Cleanser: Super gentle and nice for a daily face wash. When I want to use it as a makeup-remover, I'll pump it into a super-soft sea sponge so I can scrub a bit more, albeit gently.

I don't get big breakouts much at this point (regular cleansing and moisturizing will usually chill your skin out eventually re: feeling the need to over-produce oil). But I do keep some Neutrogena Face Wash around for when I get breakouts anywhere, maybe a handful of times a month.

I don't know how much benefit I REALLY see from toner, as far as my pores. They seem fine! Mostly I just loooove the feeling of swiping it on fresh from the fridge, and the coolness does calm down the skin and sooth any puffiness. I still make my own Rosewater Toner with wilting discount grocery store roses and a few drops of lavender oil.

Goops:

Lacura Day And/Or Night Creams: These are SO AFFORDABLE (I'm using Amazon links for ease of reference, they are WAY cheaper directly from Aldi) and make your skin feel like butter. After washing and toning one or the other is what I glop on next, and a little goes a long way. Night cream is important because the skin under your eyes especially is so super thin, it needs that protection as we get older. But eye creams tend to be STUPID EXPENSIVE. Lacura is around $4 at Aldi and I legit see very little difference between it and the unsustainably expensive ones I've tried in the past.

Ponds Dry Skin Cream: The old reliable. I have used it since I was 19 and Oprah said it was good, lol. If you use nothing else on your face, use this (but also sunscreeen, dear gods). After Day or Night cream, this comes next.

A good rule of thumb for all moisturizers is that you don't want it to disappear into your skin immediately OR stay too greasy. As I've gotten older, this one sits on my skin longer, so I tend to only use it at night in the summer. Once it gets cold and dry out, though, morning and night baby.

Vaseline Cocoa Radiant: For the all-over-rest-of-me, you really can't beat it. After every shower or bath, all over everything, damnit. LUBE YOUR DERM.

Oil:

Olive Oil Squalane: My last step of the night is topping my face with a good Squalane before bed. My old job discontinued the one I swear by, pictured above, which, I have no idea why? It feels soooo nice and I saw such good results in the winter especially. I bought up a bunch of bottles from work before it disappeared, haha but there are soooo many options out there for a lot of different prices. Basically you want the main ingredients to be Olive Oil & Herbs, usually Rosemary.

Treat Yourself Tier:

Innersense Harmonic Treatment Oil: I was given a gift card to them for my birthday last year, and yeah they're reeeeeally wom-wom and a little insufferable in their marketing, and they're expensive. HOWEVER, this stuff is infuriatingly great? Nothing was helping my dry scalp until this. I use it instead of the Squalane maybe once a week on my face as well, and it definitely clears up any redness or irritation right away. How dare it be good and also $25 an ounce. But if you can treat yourself, why not!

Dead Sea Mud Masks: Masks are FUN, damnit. If you can ignore all the annoying "detoxing" claims and blah blah, it is a fact that mud masks can really flush out those pores. And they feel nice!

General Habits:

Wash Your Pillowcases: They're full of your face goo, skin cells, and slobber. Not only good for your skin, but just nice. Wash your sheets/bedding more regularly in general, if you're like me then I know you're not doing it enough. Make the change to fragrance-free detergent now if you haven't already, that shit could start bothering your skin at ANY time. My mother never had a problem with good ol' Tide, until she turned 60 and suddenly ANY fragranced soaps made her skin explode.

Wash Your Makeup Tools: Same as above, I regularly gross myself out watching all the GUNK that's stored in the pretty pink makeup brushes.

Wash Hats, Headbands, Etc: Hopefully the pattern is sinking in. If it touches your skin regularly? It should be washed regularly. It's easy to remember that your clothes do, of course, but there's so many other things as well that are fulla your skin cells, various products, pollution, and sebum. Scientists could probably clone you with access to the inner band of your favorite hat alone.

SUN SCREEN: EVERY TIME YOU GO OUT IN VIEW OF THE FIRE ORB. Sensitive face/skin? Baby sunscreen. I know texture is a big thing for people, but there are lots of different brands out there that have lots of different textures, ingredients, scents, etc. Don't give up on it just because Coppertone makes you break out, you owe it to yourself to find the thing that works for you. Skin cancer is a bitch that spares no one, not even Hugh Nicest Man Ever Jackman.

Drink Water: You know it, I know it, same as above, find the way to get regular hydration in that works for you. I personally like making my own fruity flavored syrups to dash in things. Hydrated skin begins from within, blah blah blah.

Vitamins: Take a multi-vitamin, get your vitamin D. The sun is not BEAMING VITAMINS INTO YOUR PORES, it synthesis it. A quick google will tell you that 8-10 minutes in the sun A DAY is all you need. So don't let anyone tell you BUT YOUR VITAMIN D!!!!!!! when you're layering on your sun screen. Take your vitamins, get a teaspoon of sun regularly, and then GOOP UP.

I'm no expert, just someone with a mother & grandmother who greatly regret/regretted their lack of skin care as younger women. My mom is 75 and she has lines and spots, and she's beautiful! But her skin can tear after a clumsy trip into a door frame. She's listening to her dermatologist now to the letter, and I too would like to avoid that as much as possible! We all deserve to like how our spongy flesh prisons feel.

[rottencore]

They had these at aldi. So cute. They're really tasty as well. Merc got them for rose :P

[the-retailverse]

Party (2-11-24)

@its-target-official @fr-winn-dixie

Winn-Dixie frowned slightly as he surveyed the party, heading towards the couch, cup of punch in hand.

"Why did I let Nokia talk me into this...?" He muttered to himself, sitting on the far end. When the party ended, he would be giving her a piece of his mind.

"...And then I got my car towed!" Target finished, grinning at the laughter its story received. As the small group dispersed, it headed to the punchbowl, where Publix was filling up a cup.

"I've gotta say Pubs," Target grinned. "You always throw an awesome party." Publix smiled at the compliment.

"Thanks! Anything to get everybody all together!" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "...Speaking of everybody, there's a new guy here..." Its brows rose, and Publix gestured to follow her.

The pair headed to the kitchen, out of earshot of the other party-goers.

"The new guy's name is Winn-Dixie, and he just moved here." She spoke quietly. Target blinked, leaning against the doorway.

"You think I should shoot my shot?" Publix nodded.

"Of course! You should get to know him, before Jersey does..." It stared at her, dumbfounded.

"Jersey Mike's is here?!" Publix shushed it.

"Yes!" She discretely gestured to the couch, where Jersey Mike's and Winn-Dixie were quietly chatting. "I'll cause a distraction so you can get in there and do your thing." Target glanced at her.

"You will?" Publix nodded.

"Yeah! You're my friend." She opened one of the cabinets, pulling out two bottles of wine, and giving it a wink. "You've got this, Target! Channel that inner heartthrob!" Publix returned back to the party.

Target nodded, inhaling and exhaling before leaving the kitchen and heading to the couch. Jersey Mike's was at the punchbowl, pouring themselves a glass of wine.

Winn-Dixie was sitting on the couch, looking bored.

"...Is this seat taken...?" Winn-Dixie looked up as Target spoke, craning his neck to look it in the face. He shook his head.

"No, no, not at all." He blinked at Target, staring at it with sharp red eyes as Target sat down. "Jersey Mike's was here, but they went to get some wine and chat..." Winn-Dixie extended a hand.

"I'm Winn-Dixie." Target shook his hand.

"Target." Now that it was closer to Winn-Dixie, it could see why Publix had pointed him out.

He was totally its type.

"So..." Target racked its brain for something to make small talk about. "How are you enjoying the party so far?" A small smile graced Winn-Dixie's features, and Target was smitten.

"It's a wonderful party." He replied. "And though I've just moved here, everyone here's been very kind..." Target nodded.

"It's nice to see a new face." It spoke, giving him a wink. "Especially one as nice as yours." Winn-Dixie blushed faintly.

"Target." He murmured. "After this party's over, I'll be heading home to finish unpacking. Would you...?" Target nodded, giving him a smile.

"Like to help?" It spoke. "Of course. Matter of fact, we could go now." Winn-Dixie blinked at him.

"Now? I don't want you to miss out on the party..." Target shrugged.

"I don't mind." It replied, glancing up and seeing Publix. She gave Target a thumbs-up. "Besides, we can have our own party unpacking, just the two of us.." Winn-Dixie hummed thoughtfully.

"I do have wine..." He mused, and nodded. "Alright, let's go. Just let me say goodbye to Jersey Mike's first." Target watched as Winn-Dixie hopped off the couch, making a beeline to where Jersey Mike's stood, chatting with Aldi and GameStop. They exchanged a few words, before the three hugged Winn-Dixie, and he moved back to where Target was.

"Ready to go?" It asked, smiling and he nodded.

"Yes." Winn-Dixie glanced up at Target and blushed faintly.

[artbyisabelh]

Ooops, I did it again!

Yes, you already know my obsession with these roses that you can buy for a fraction of the price at Walmart, Tractor Supply store, and Aldi’s. Okay, let me go back to the store listings. I had previously posted about bare-root bagged roses that I purchased from Walmart. Today, I will be posting about two more roses from Walmart, two roses from Tractor Supply Store, and two roses that I bought…

[swanmay-that-got-away]

Blue Rose fucks so much, I just started reading Sovereigns of the Blue Rose and NATURALLY the first Queen of Aldis was a trans woman AND her transness was an influence on her worldview and her vision for the kingdom AND the handling of a trans character was flawless. No deadname, never misgenders her, A+ no notes. It figures though, the writer's nonbinary!

Even if you aren't in the market for a new RPG system, even if you aren't in the market for Romantic Fastasy roleplay, please please please please do not sleep on the Blue Rose fiction. I have now read Shadowtide, Pit of Vipers, Sovereigns, and a few misc works and GODS they're so good. Feel better after reading them, every damn time. Wish more romantic fantasy had immaculate vibes!

[diejager]

I’m finally working on it @cobwebs-in-autumn

Your Number’s Up Cw: stalking, Ghostface!reader, panic, tell me if I missed any.

The phone rang a third time now, Johnny ignored the first two calls, listening to it ring four five times before it cut to his voicemail, waiting for the caller to leave a message, but they never did. It started getting on his nerves, the fierceness in Johnny only fuelling the irritation boiling under his skin. Before the last beat rang, he picked up the phone, listening to the silence on the other side of the call.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Johnny.”

He jumped, eyes widening at the raspy tone of the caller —unknown and strange. The caller knew his name, something he might’ve shared with many, but the tone they used was similar to one he knew intimately, a teasing and rumbling edge. Perhaps it was a prank, someone he knew wanted to play a prank on him. Maybe Gaz was finally able to rope his LT into pulling his leg, but that didn’t explain the cold sweat that broke on his skin, the rapid raise of his hair and the chill he felt when he heard the voice answer him.

“Funny, LT, ” he forced a laugh out of him, his throat tightening so much that he felt like he was choking, “Did Gaz put yer up tae this?”

the line went quiet for a second, he couldn’t hear the caller’s breathing or any sight of life other than the creepy, raspy voice taunting him.

“Wrong.”

A single word had never sent his heart pummelling down his stomach like this one had, a sense of panic rose in his chest, replacing the tentative mischievous he was preparing to return once he assure who was on the other end of the line. Johnny hadn’t expected someone else to call him with such a menacing air, it played with every trained and beaten instinct into him.

“What’s wrong, Johnny?” The voice on the other side cackled, a cruel and sinister sound, vibrating through his body like an earthquake shattering the earth, “Aren’t you happy to finally meet your stalker?”

His eyes bugled out of its sockets, his nerves were set on fire, mind spiralling out in a frantic search of his memory. He couldn’t remember feeling watched or any indication of him being stalked —Simon hadn’t said a word and that worried him. He hung up without a second thought, his body acting on primal need, to survive and to feel safe, he hung up the phone and quickly sent Simon a message. Johnny needed Simon to call him and to reassure him that this was a mean prank and that he didn’t have a stalker.

When his phone rang, he tapped on the green button without looking for a name, thumb moving instinctively, fully believing he got a call from Simon.

“Why’d you hang up on me, Johnny?”

Johnny felt like his world was crumbling in on itself.

Next

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @kaelysian @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake

[paperdemon-arpg]

🌹Draw your original characters embarking on a journey of romance, valor, and magic in the world of Blue Rose by @‌greenroninpub

Prompt No. 125

After hearing of a number of unusual people appearing around Aldea, your character is called upon by Queen Jaellin, and quickly ushered into the court of the Sovereign of Aldis. Draw or write your character meeting the Queen in person.

Rewards: 🍵random item drop ✨60 XP 🎯5 Ability Points 🌹5 Roses

Deadline: Jul 14, 2024

HOW TO PARTICIPATE ▶ https://bit.ly/summer-rose-art-rpg

This event is part of our Champions of the Summer Rose series.

Challenge details ▶ https://www.paperdemon.com/app/g/pdarpg/events/view/879/weekly-prompt-125-queen-jaellin/1

Participate in Art Fight using our prompts and redeem in-game rewards.

Redeem rewards for Art Fight ▶ https://www.paperdemon.com/app/g/pdarpg/events/view/855/art-fight-2024/1

[official-lauchzwiebel]

You know I've had a not so great day but I went out for a walk (to my local Aldi that I've only ever gone to by car) and momentarily broke out of my cloud of self-pity to marvel at the flowers on the way. The roses especially - I stopped and gently cupped the blooming head, leaning down and breathing in deeply. Most of them had no strong scent, but there was a certain hint there that reminded me of summers past. When I drew back, I took a petal between thumb and index finger, rubbing slightly. I love the texture, silky and smooth and soft. Then I let go and looked my fill. Bright pink to yellow to white to yellow and dusty rose. "We have much to hope from the flowers", I thought and smiled. The birds were singing. I took a step back and walked on.

"It is only goodness which gives extras, and so I say again that we have much to hope from the flowers. " - Arthur Conan Doyle, The Naval Treaty