#comparing bottled water brands

[luckystorein22]

How many types of mineral water are there?

Welcome to Lucky Store's Summer Sales! We're excited to offer great deals on a variety of products, including mineral water. Mineral water is a popular beverage choice, known for its refreshing taste and potential health benefits. But did you know that there are different types of mineral water? Here are some of the most common types:

1. Spring Water: This is water that comes from a natural spring or underground source. It can be still or sparkling and is known for its clean taste.

2. Purified Water: This is water that has been filtered or distilled to remove impurities. It is often used for drinking, cooking, and other household purposes.

3. Mineral Water: This is water that contains minerals like calcium, magnesium, and potassium. It can be still or sparkling and is often marketed for its health benefits.

4. Alkaline Water: This is water that has a pH level above 7, which is considered neutral. It is believed by some to have health benefits such as reducing acid reflux and improving hydration.

5. Electrolyte Water: This is water that has added electrolytes like sodium and potassium, which can help to rehydrate the body after exercise or other physical activity.

At Lucky Store, we offer a variety of mineral water options to suit your needs and preferences. Whether you prefer still or sparkling, natural or flavored, we have something for everyone. And with our summer sales, you can stock up on your favorite brands at a great price. So why not try something new and refreshing this summer with Lucky Store's selection of mineral water?

[leovanni-nolastname]

I literally am so excited to see how republicans (nazis), single issue voters, and bots handle Biden stepping down and nominating Kamala. Like there is no true winning solution for any of these groups and it's about to get really bizarre because of it.

[munson-blurbs]

Hehe for since you asked for fluffy smut, what if reader has had a long day at work and Eddie maybe fixes a bubble bath and they take one together, but then it gets a lil frisky

Is this more smut than fluff? Yes. Am I apologizing for it? Nope.

Collab with @corroded-hellfire who is once again the only reason there's any fluff at all.

CW: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), roommate!Eddie, accidental boners, grinding, lots and lots of touching, mention of oral (f) WC: 1.9k

Home might have been a tiny, two-bedroom apartment that perched above the heart of Hawkins, but at the end of a long shift, it’s Heaven. 

You kick off your shoes; apparently they’re one of the most supportive brands, according to the other waitresses, but your feet still ache. 

The throbbing in your feet is nothing compared to the roaring pain that inflames your lower back. Just pressing the heel of your palms into it makes you wince and groan. 

“You okay?” Eddie calls from his room. You hear him fumbling to put away his guitar before you can even reply. 

The door swings open and he stands there, posture sagging when he sees how beaten down you look. Whatever makeup you had applied that afternoon had long faded, and the stains on your apron certainly added the finishing touch. 

Eddie, meanwhile, is refreshed—infuriatingly so. Today was his day off, and though he put in a lot of work the other six days of the week, you still yearned for the well-restedness that had him bounding over to you. 

“Bubble bath?” When you two had first moved in together, he used to try and talk to you about your day. He took it personally when you retreated to your room without glancing in his direction. But now he knew that you talk when you regain your energy. And there’s no shortage of gossip after eight hours at Benny’s. 

You nod, offering him as much of a grateful smile as you can muster. “That would be great.” You weren’t sure how you managed to find a great friend like Eddie, but you weren’t about to question it, either. 

None of the guys you’d actually dated had ever been so understanding. But Eddie…he managed to always know what you needed. 

He offers you one of his signature grins that always brighten your day and heads down the hall to the bathroom. You take off your name tag when the loud gush of the tub faucet reaches your ears and you barely have time to yank your socks off before Eddie’s back in your doorway. 

“Your spa awaits,” he says. “I would’ve prepared you some music but I don’t think any of my metal cassettes have the ambiance you’re looking for right now.”

You shake your head as you pass by him and step towards the bathroom door. 

“Not really,”  you agree. “I’ll let you know if I need it for some inspiration working out or welding or something.”

Eddie huffs a laugh and slips his hands into the back pockets of his black jeans.

“Wasn’t that Flashdance?”

“Yeah, but that music wasn’t my thing,” you admit with a shrug before you step into the bathroom. The door clicks behind you as it closes and you’re immediately shedding the stained, greasy uniform you’ve been dying to ditch all day. 

A trail of clothing is left in your wake as you step up to the tub, the bubbles fizzing and giving off a calming jasmine scent. Not wanting to scald your skin as the cherry on top of this already grueling day, you slip your hand into the water to test the temperature. It’s perfect. You don’t know how Eddie does it; he must have the magic touch. 

The water, the bubbles, the scent, it’s all too inviting. You lift one leg over the side of the tub and climb in, quickly bringing the other in as well. In your haste to start your relaxation, you slip a bit as you begin to sit down. Instinct has you catching yourself on the sides of the tub almost instantly, but it causes the collection of soap, shampoo, and conditioner bottles to tumble onto the floor in a large heap. You stare at the pile for a moment.

“Ah, I’ll deal with you later,” you decide under your breath and sink further down into the warmth waiting to heal you from your long day. 

The bubbles tickle your skin as they gradually make their way higher. They stop around your breasts and the warm water wraps itself around every achy muscle in your body. 

Suddenly, the bathroom door busts open, a frazzled Eddie charging in with wide, concerned eyes. He’s only in a Corroded Coffin t-shirt and boxers now, so maybe the loud bang woke him from a nap. 

“I-Is everything okay?” he asks as he eyes the pile of bottles on the floor.

“Oh yeah, I just knocked those over when I got in,” you explain. 

Eddie breathes a sigh of relief but the moment his eyes land on you, his body tenses up even worse than before. He’s clearly trying not to stare at you—especially your chest—but he’s failing miserably. You look down to find that your roommate has a pretty good view of the tops of your boobs. 

When you look back to Eddie, you get a pretty nice view yourself. Since he’s only wearing boxers on his lower half, his boner is quite evident. 

A smug sense of satisfaction settles over you, even seeing how uncomfortable Eddie seems to be at getting caught. But you’re not going to tease him or make him feel bad about anything. On the contrary, you’ve thought of yet another way he can help you relax. 

“Do you wanna join?” you purr. 

When Eddie looks your way you give him the most innocent, wide eyed look you can manage and flutter your lashes a few times. 

Worry blooms within you when he doesn’t immediately respond. 

Did I overstep? Is he completely freaked out? Oh my god, what if his boner was completely unrelated to me and I just assumed—

His voice, smaller than you’ve ever heard it, interrupts your thoughts. “Mhm, yeah. I mean, if that’s cool with you.”

You nod, watching as he peels off his shirt and tosses it aside, exposing the soft tendrils of hair across his chest. There’s a tattoo on one pec; you want him, need him closer so you can run your tongue over it. 

He sheds his boxers next. Though you knew he was big just from seeing the bulge behind the fabric, nothing prepared you to see him fully on display. The reddish-pink tip leaks pre-cum as the shaft bobs in desperate search for the warmth of a body. 

“Where should I…” He’s gained a bit of confidence from the way you stare unabashedly at his naked body, but he’s still hesitant to push his luck too far. 

Scooting forward, you gesture to the now empty space behind you. Nerves buzz throughout your naked body —now wet in more ways than one. 

Eddie swings a leg over the edge of the tub, getting his balance before bringing the other to join. The way he places his hands on your shoulders results in an electricity that you can only hope he feels as well. 

His lower body disappears beneath the bubbles and he lets out a relaxed groan. You lean back until your head rests on his chest, his considerable length pressing against your lower back. 

“Sweetheart,” he whispers. Whether he means to speak that softly or he can’t manage anything louder, you can’t be sure. “Be careful.”

“Careful?”

He nods, lips grazing the shell of your ear. He’s so close to you, and yet he’s still too far away. “You’re so fucking tempting like this.”

You shift slightly, enough to see the blush in his cheeks that you know isn’t from the steamy bath. “Maybe I want you to be tempted.”

One tattooed arm snakes around your waist, fingers trailing upwards and stopped just shy of your breasts. 

“Don’t tease me,” he begs. “Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”

“I mean it.”

You take his hand and place it on your left breast. He whimpers, and you swear you could climax from the sound alone. 

Water sloshes around the tub as he hooks his legs around yours, gathering the stability he needs. 

“Fuck…” His hips move as he ruts up against you, desperate for relief. The way he pinches your nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, starkly contrasts the gentle kisses he leaves on your shoulder blades. 

You want him. You need him. 

His other hand lays in the water and you guide it between your legs, now spread in anticipation of his touch. 

“There?” He asks as he finds your clit, rubbing it when you nod in the affirmative. 

Eddie increases his pace, fingers working in tandem to bring you pleasure. You arch your back, exposing your neck for him to bite and suck. 

“When we’re done,” he murmurs, “I want you splayed out on the bed for me. I need to see if your pussy is as pretty as I’ve imagined.”

His words awaken something within you. “Y-You imagine me…?” You start, unable to finish your sentence. 

Eddie nods. “Every time I jerk off, Sweetheart, I imagine being inside you. How you’d feel around my cock—mmph, fuck.”

“I picture you, too,” you confess. “Your fingers, or your cock, or—”

He raises a brow. “Or?”

“Or your mouth.” The admission spills from your lips. 

“Yeah? You want me to eat that pretty little pussy of yours?” Your own desire for him amps up his confidence. He’s impossibly and impressively hard, and you would do anything for him to stretch you out. 

You nod. “Please.”

“Okay, Sweetheart. Soon as we’re done here, yeah?” His breath hitches, his rutting becoming sloppier and needier as he nears orgasm. 

Bubbly waves crest over the side of the tub, drenching the bathmat and flooding the tile floor, but neither of you care. 

“Eds, little more, I’m gonna…” 

He follows your every order, your pussy clenching around nothing as he takes care of your clit. 

“Wanna make you feel good.” Eddie kisses your shoulder again. “Please let me make you feel good.”

You can only offer a moan as you come, chanting his name over and over. It’s a name you only ever dreamed about chanting so loudly; it was usually relegated to quiet whispers alone in your room. 

A new warmth, different from the bathwater, coats your lower back and drips down to your ass when Eddie finishes, the hand on your breast squeezing tight, pain and pleasure intermingling harmoniously. 

“Oh my god,” he pants. “That was…”

“Amazing.”

Eddie nods. “So fuckin’ amazing.” 

He lifts a bubble-covered hand to your chin, tilting it slightly so he can kiss you. His lips are soft but move with determination, his tongue sliding between yours. You let him in, your fingers playing with the wet tips of his hair. 

“Meant what I said about eating you out,” he mumbles into your mouth before stealing another kiss. 

Splayed out on the bed. His to ravish. The thought has you lunging for the towel hanging behind the door in an attempt to dry off. 

But when you stand, Eddie reaches out his hand and pulls you towards him, now eye-level with your pussy. “Knew she was perfect,” he says with a smirk. “Bet she tastes even better.”

The kiss he presses to your folds nearly buckled your knees. 

“You wanna find out?” He nods eagerly, and you giggle. “It might be a little lavender-y from the bath soap, though.”

Eddie shrugs. “Don’t care. Need you.”

And who are you to deny a man his needs?

--

[kangaracha]

QUEENMAKER | CHAPTER 19

---

pairing chan x reader

genre ninth member au, angst, fluff, coming of age, social media, cancel culture, anxiety, depression, forbidden love,

summary To JYPE, the solution is simple; take the sole trainee that will not debut with your brand new girl group, and use her to replace the missing vocalist in your male group that insisted on starting as nine.

Unfortunately, to the fans and the members themselves, it isn't that simple.

status ongoing

taglist OPEN

a/n isn't life a mess right now? absolute chaos out there, i swear to god. stay safe everyone.

previous | masterlist | next

---

You're choosing to ignore the noise that you know clouds the air online as you file into the underside of the stage on the tail of the boys, early enough in the morning that they are still yawning and blinking bleary eyes open, coffee clutched in their hands.

Stay offline, they'll all tell you, and make sure you sleep too, but you're no good at either; sleep is hard to find in the face of what hovers over you in three days time, and it's almost worse to not know what's going on where you can't see it than to keep a finger pressed very casually to the pulse. Just to know what they think. Just to know what to expect when you inevitably come face-to-face with them.

Not that you'll see them too closely. Four songs on one day, that's all you were here for. No fan meetings, no signings. Not that you had a problem with that, when those four songs alone came with a mountain of nerves to climb and conquer and sure, you'd been taught how to feign confidence until your voice didn't waver and your feet kept dancing, but that stage...

You come out onto it from underneath, following eight sets of feet up a narrow set of hidden stairs, and stare upwards at the seats that line the hall. It's lucky you're at the end of the line, your feet rooted to the ground on the final step by the sudden, unnerving terror of being faced with that ring of empty space; the stage that stretches out before you seems so small compared to the towering walls of the hall, so far into the ground when you look up at the final row of seats and see them hovering far above you as if to look down from the heavens.

Chan glances back from the middle of the pack as they spread out across the stage, checking that everyone is present, and beckons for you to join them, the smile on his face a message you can't decipher. Maybe he takes pleasure in seeing you speechless, or maybe he's just excited to share this with you - or relieved that you finally made it here after he staked everything on believing it would happen. Even with his invitation, you still can't find it in yourself to move though; not until a manager's gentle hand pushes you up that final step and onto the stage, the surface thumping quietly under the fall of your feet.

There are so many things you don't know, wandering across those boards while the others spread from corner to corner, jumping around or stretching or arranging bottles of water at its edge. They look so comfortable here, following a routine their bodies intrinsically understand, while you are...lost, your hands wringing nervously as you gravitate towards Chan in the centre of the stage.

He's still smiling though, his hand reaching out to stop yours from pulling themselves apart. "Still okay?" he asks, repeating the first question he'd put to you upon seeing the looming height of the convention centre this morning. 

"Mmm," you reply with a mouth that has forgotten how to shape words. "Not really."

"Do you want to go back downstairs for a moment?"

You focus on him instead of the seats for a moment, the warm feeling of his hand where it brushes your arm, the slow fade of his smile into something more focused on the problem, and how he can fix it. "No," you say, before he can get any further ahead of himself than he already has, and force a breath down into your lungs. "I'll get used to it. I just need something to do."

"We'll warm up in a minute," he assures you, and twists to look at the four boys that are gathering on the edge of the stage behind him, squawking at something they've seen down below. "Unless Han falls off the stage. Then I might just give up and go home."

Your eyes stray over his shoulder to the boys teetering on the edge of the platform, the toes of their shoes hanging over a fall that is far from fatal but still not ideal. As if he'd heard your conversation, Han crouches in the centre of them all, wobbling back and forth - it's the hand that Changbin wraps around his arm at the last minute that saves him, tugging him back on his heels just before he can tip too far forward to save himself. 

"Are you going to stop them?" you ask Chan, and very deliberately put your hands in the pocket of your hoodie as if you are completely relaxed, willing him not to turn around. 

"I'm trying really hard not to look, actually," he answers, and then he turns thoughtful. "Maybe I should make it your job to try and stop them, if you need something to do."

"I don't think I have that kind of authority here," you say, huffing a laugh. "You've killed any respect they had for their elders."

"I know. Lee Know is working on it," Chan sighs, rubbing at the back of his neck.

"He has no respect either."

Chan's eyes flick to you, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth; and he doesn't count the joke out loud, but you know that in his head he is adding it to his tally. You're not sure how he remembers what number he is up to, or why he even bothers when you throw them out so sporadically, numerous one day when you're feeling bold and then nothing on other days when the urge to cower at the sight of the group chat or all of them loudly laughing together is too strong. And recently you've started to throw them out in person too, rather than just in the safety of your messages with him. 

Maybe he just makes the numbers up as he goes along. You haven't been keeping track of the total he says each time any more than you suspect he counts the jokes. 

"I'm glad this is an English concert, actually," he says suddenly, snapping your attention back to the present moment.

You frown in confusion. "What?" you ask, wondering if you'd spaced out for a moment and missed something he'd said.

"I was just thinking," he answers. "I'm glad we'll be speaking English this week."

You still don't follow. "Why?"

"Because if we're speaking English, you'll talk to me like this on stage."

You can only stare at him for a moment. Processing what he'd said, and the way he'd said it; genuine, with that smile still hiding in the corner of his mouth. "I don't know if I'll be able to say anything on stage," you say when the words have sunk in, scrambling for a response. "I'm going to be busy trying not to mess it up."

"Oh, come on," he scoffs. "You don't need to do that. Nothing is going to go wrong."

Somehow, his brazen confidence eases some of the tension in your chest. Maybe because he plays at being so entirely convinced that it's kind of funny; maybe because he'd already thrown you off beat a moment before and you're still reeling. "You cannot tell me that you believe that," you say; a joke, but a weak one, testing the waters rather than diving right in with any of the other responses that spring to mind.

"I am a hundred percent sure everything will go perfectly," he throws back without hesitation.

"Are you?" you tease, egged on by the grin that bites at his face. "I feel like you've basically cursed us now that you've said that."

His smile very deliberately falters, his mouth flattening into a put-upon line. "Go and warm up," he sighs dramatically, waving a hand. "No more talking about curses. Go on."

Your own smile doesn't budge as you turn away, sticking to your face until you gather with the others in the centre of the stage, stretching and loosening stiff and cold muscles, a warning to your body that it is nearly time to dance. It goes by in a flash with the distraction of Changbin's loud voice in the background and the complaints of the younger boys around him every time he yells, the laughter that the group shares. Chan was right, too; the distraction is just what you need, the laughter easing the anxiety that squeezes at your chest so that by the time you sort yourselves into the opening formation of God's Menu, you can almost imagine that it's just another day in the practice rooms at home.

"Ready?" Changbin asks as he rounds out the back of the formation, a hand held out flat between you.

You slap it with your own, loud enough that the sound echoes across the stage and he rescinds, shaking his palm out like it stings. "Ready," you confirm, adding strength to your voice so that he will believe you, and then you turn you backs on each other, crouching down back-to-back.

You spare Hyunjin a small smile, now in front of you where he crouches as well, and then drop your head as the music starts, counting the beats to the moment where you will jump to your feet.

It comes quick, barely four bars past the moment that that loud, discordant beat kicks in; quick enough that every time, it feels like it takes your breath away as Hyunjin turns to the side and you rise to your feet, only a moment before Felix and I.N shift outward too and reveal you to the empty crowd. It occurs to you again, in the fleeting of moments that passes between beats, just how terrifying that could be on the day that it matters - how it could be so easy to freeze in the spotlight and forget what you're supposed to do and where to go after-

"Ne sonnim!" you shout to an invisible audience, your throat remembering by itself the power that Changbin has beaten into you in the days since you'd taken the part and your hand rising into the air. Someone whoops into the microphone as you take your swift step to the left, out of Changbin's way - you almost laugh, but your concentration turns too quickly to the choreography and your place in the crowd, careful to stay out of Chan's way as he moves forward and you move back.

It gets easier from there, until the second verse comes around - hide at the back and keep up with the rest, part of a unit rather than leading the way into the light. Your parts follow on naturally, short and sharp movements paired with similar vocals in the verse, and then the relatively easy task of standing still and filling your chest with your voice while they continue the dance around you in the pre-chorus. 

And then, the bow at the end, the struggle not to stop and gasp for a breath of air in the five seconds of silence that follow.

Hyunjin is the first to fall on the third runthrough, sitting with a dramatic flourish and signalling the start of a break for everyone. Minho rolls a bottle of water across the stage to him, and then holds one out to you - you take it gratefully, your throat already dry just after one song. Nerves, you think as you sate your thirst and then pass the bottle off to I.N. 

"Happy?" you ask Hyunjin, still on the floor close enough to your feet that you're mindful of not stepping on him as you shuffle around, keeping your feet moving. 

He groans, his head rolling backwards to look at the ceiling. "We still have to run through Hellevator," he says, which is not an answer to the question, but not a complaint either. No news is good news, you assume, and nudge his bottle back towards him again as it wanders away down an imagined slant in the stage surface. 

"You have a whole day off tomorrow," I.N points out.

"No I don't," Hyunjin replies, unscrewing the cap of his water bottle. "I have schedules to go to."

"So do I," Seungmin puts in from behind you, a shadow at your back as he circles around to join the group.

"No, you don't," I.N says, his eyes tracking him as he walks. "The only thing we're doing is going out for lunch."

He flips the empty bottle in his hand up and down idly between two fingers as he speaks, his attention elsewhere. You can see the glint of playfulness in Seungmin's eyes as they mull over what he's said, and then look down, tracking the movement of the bottle - you don't see his hand before he whacks it out of I.N's hand and watches it bounce away down the stage, laughing at the look of disgust on the younger boy's face.

"Do you want to come out for lunch tomorrow, noona?" Seungmin asks while I.N is distracted by the bottle.

"I want to come out for lunch," Hyunjin says from the floor, carefully placing his own water out of Seungmin's reach.

"You're not invited," Seungmin throws back before he can be convinced. "Unless you're paying."

Hyunjin screws up his nose and turns away, climbing to his feet instead of answering. Minho calls your names from the other side of the stage only a moment later, the backing track of the new song they'd added just for you queuing and then stuttering to a stop over the sound system. "I'll come out for lunch," you answer Seungmin as you walk, I.N falling into your shadows. You specifically don't say anything about paying.

"Good," Seungmin says, "because we're making a vocalracha vlog."

If he notices the way your stomach drops at the mention of the vlog, he doesn't say anything, and you don't either - stupid, really, to feel nervous about the prospect of a camera pointed at you when you've spent all these years chasing that exact dream. Not to mention the amount of cameras that have caught you in their vision in the past - from instructors, and evaluations, and TV networks, and online content.

But to do it with them, for their fans who, so far as you've read, don't seem very interested in seeing you with them...the thought kind of turns your stomach upside down. Makes the sweat running down the back of your neck turn ice cold all of a sudden, your skin shivering at its sudden touch. 

"What are you worrying about?" I.N asks you suddenly, appearing at your shoulder.

"What?" Seungmin says on your other side.

Before you can answer, I.N cranes his neck to see the other boy and says, "She's worrying about something again. Look at her face."

"What?" you echo, and if your face wasn't screwed up in consternation before, it is now. "My face isn't doing anything. How would you know? You were behind me the whole time."

"You can pull expressions with the back of your head?" Seungmin asks. "That's weird. You're weird."

You arrive in the circle of the rest of the group like that, I.N looking at Seungmin like he has something equally witty that he wants to say. Chan leans behind Seungmin with a funny twist to his mouth that says from one look, he knows exactly what you're going through, and wordlessly offers you a microphone. You pull down your headset as you take it and tune out whatever Seungmin says next, calling up the lyrics to the next song as the music starts. 

You note, as you sing the first line, that the tension in your chest has eased away as quickly as it had tightened. You have a feeling that was I.N's perogative the entire time. Either way, you're grateful. 

—

"Annyeong," Seungmin says to the camera that sits heavy in his hand, hoisted up to keep its lense from catching the sun as you walk down the street. "This is our vocalracha exclusive outing. No one else is allowed."

"Stay is allowed," I.N says beside him, poking his head into frame just to give Seungmin a look that the camera will catch, and they start off on an argument that plays out so naturally you can almost forget that the camera is there at all.

Except that you can't, because every time you stare into the face of it from where you're hiding on one side, your stomach drops and your limbs stiffen like they don't know what to do with themselves, anticipating the moment that it turns onto you.

Not that you haven't seen a camera before, or even had to produce this kind of content. The survival show you'd once done had loved this type of content just as much as any other, and there was always someone recording something in practice rooms, whether it ended up online or not...but this felt different somehow. More revealing, or more public, maybe, because of the audience that would surely be waiting to watch it. Because of the way that audience felt about you, lain out so clearly in a hundred comment sections online for you to see.

"You know who is invited," Seungmin says, cutting over whatever I.N has just told him with little regard for the other boy's opinions. "Our noona is here to buy us lunch."

You blink, and the eye of that camera turns to look at you in the moment that you aren't paying attention, cornering you within its gaze. Ignore it, you tell yourself firmly around the lump that begins to form in your throat, and turn your head to look at Seungmin instead, trying to remind yourself of the conversation topic. "Is that the only reason you invited me?" you ask, and resist the urge to wince when it comes out flatter rather than playful, the joke choking on itself before it can even reach your tongue.

Seungmin doesn't miss a beat, his lips pursed like he's thinking about it. "Youngest always pays," he says. 

Behind him, you can see I.N's gaze turn sharp, already preparing to be the next one under fire. "I'm older than you," you point out mildly, not wanting to swing the conversation one particular direction or another.

"Grandma always pays," he fires back.

"You can't just change the rules to whatever you like," I.N says.

"Says who?"

"Everyone," you tell him.

"Do you even know where you're going?" I.N asks.

Seungmin scoffs. "No. That wasn't my job."

"Why are you leading then?"

"I'm following Stay." 

Their attention snaps so naturally back to the camera that it feels like whiplash, like you're lagging one step behind and you can't quite catch up. You tail off again as Seungmin starts explaining your day and what you're doing after this to an invisible audience, sliding back out of view and into your comfort zone to the side of the camera, forcing a breath right down into the bottom of your lungs. 

You're going to have to get used to this, and the idea that everyone is going to see everything you do. It's silly to try to dance around it when there is no way out, but still, you let yourself slip away when you can no longer muster the strength to hold yourself within view of that camera, promising that another day you will try harder. Another day, it will come easier, and you will stand there and chatter on to that lense without thinking twice, just like the boys do.

Today isn't that day though. Neither will tomorrow be, and the day after-

The day after, you are on stage, for all the world to scrutinise in full view rather than in a box on a computer screen.

---

"You can go out when you're ready," the stylist tells you with a final adjustment of the hem of your shirt, gently tugging the creases into just the right position. "Have a good dress rehearsal. Let me know if there's anything we can fix."

She moves out of the way of the mirror so that you can see the entire piece. It's a simple concept, really, dark and grungy to fit the group's ongoing concept and yet pulled off in pieces of soft cotton and the glimmering gold of the plain rings on your fingers. You could almost imagine yourself sitting at home doing nothing, except for the makeup that sharpens the lines of your face and deepens its shadows, the embellishments that dangle from the loose cargo pants that cover your legs and the way that the hoodie's sleeves billow artfully at your sides. A safe outfit for a first performance, except for the strip of skin that shows at your midriff whenever you move, the shirt's hem cut at just the right length to expose it.

There'd been a lot of back-and-forth over outfits in the past few weeks. You'd only been privy to the part of it where they'd asked how much are you comfortable with and you'd answered I don't mind what I wear, and then the fittings afterwards in which there was a new outfit every time, but you knew there'd been...discussions. Arguments. Mistakes, nearly, and since then it seemed like the entire group's styling had been toned down to accomodate the lack of agreement over yours, which was-

Music starts playing upstairs somewhere, blaring from the speakers and then cutting off again. "Thankyou," you say to the stylist, who is already busy with something else, and cut across the room to where the boys are gathering around a manager who is handing out equipment. 

"Ah, noona!" Changbin says as you approach, his voice deliberately pushed high and light to match the broad smile that crosses his face. "I haven't introduced our noona yet!" A camera follows him, latching onto you before you have time to duck away - you swallow the nerves that suddenly pile onto your chest and focus on the smile you're giving Changbin in greeting and the table behind him that you're trying to reach. 

"Hello Stay," you say to no one, waving at the camera for the two seconds you're comfortable enough to look at it. You busy yourself with the search for your equipment on the table as an excuse to turn away and collect yourself, preparing for the onslaught of questions that you know Changbin has been told to ask.

"That's right, Stay," he says to the camera in your peripheral vision, filling the empty space that would otherwise be left. "Just for you, we brought our new member to LA to show you just how cool she is. Right, Y/N?"

There, over in the corner. "Yes," you say over your shoulder and then grab the bundle of cords and monitors, careful not to tangle anything. "I've come after a long time to join everyone here."

"You hear that, Stay? We trained her for a long time just for you."

The way that Changbin fills the air all on his own is like a weight lifted off your chest, giving you a chance to breathe while he natters on about the schedule and how he expects the performance to go and whatever else happens to come to his mind. Hyunjin's arrival provides further relief; you busy yourself with the equipment in your hands while you hang in the background of their show, appropriately on camera and yet out of the way of the spotlight while you pretend to be too busy to talk.

The in-ears pack unravels itself in your hands, a long string of cord and a monitor that nearly slips from your hand as you separate it, conveniently providing a real distraction rather than the one you were pretending to focus on. You clip it at your hip before it can hit the floor, your other hand reaching up to feed the cord down your back.

"Ah, wait, wait, wait," a voice says behind you as you try to tug the cord down through your shirt, and then warm fingers brush the back of your neck, brushing your hair away from a knot you hadn't realised had formed at your collar. Your head turns so that you can see Chan out of the corner of your eye, picking at the cord until it falls freely down your spine. You catch the other end of it with your hand, turning to face him as you plug it into the monitor.

"I don't know how I did that," you admit with half a smile, quiet enough that the camera behind you won't pick it up. 

"Five minutes in and you're breaking things already," he returns, his fingers gently shifting a lock of hair out of the way of the cord. It slips from his fingers as you turn to face him, adjusting the way that the earpieces fall over your shoulders and dangle around your neck.

"I like the outfit they gave you," he says as you take in what they've dressed him in - artfully designed cargo pants, just like yours, and a sleeveless shirt that's half-tucked at the waist, detailed in silver. "The SKZ style suits you."

"You think so?" you ask, looking down at yourself again. Too self conscious, you know, but you're mindful of what it might look like from the outside, what the fans might think of you when the boys move aside and they see you for the first time on that stage- "It's not too..."

"No, it's perfect," Chan insists. "You look good."

You struggle to keep your face from turning red as you say, "Thanks." By the way his lips pinch together, trying to swallow a smile, you're pretty sure you fail.

"Are you going up now?" he asks, a hand pointing to the stairs that lead to the stage.

"In a minute," you answer. "I just need-" You spy the object you're looking for as you speak; your headset, neatly wrapped on the other side of the table. It only takes a moment to unwind, looping it over your head and reaching back to feed the cord through again.

"Have you tried using a microphone?" Chan asks, circling around you again to free the cord from your collar before you can displace everything. 

"I thought it would be better if my hands were free," you answer. "Maybe next time I will."

"Use whatever you want," he says, watching as you hook up the headset and shuffle its components into a space where they are comfortable. 

When you're done, he offers you a hand, his body twisted towards the stairs. "Ready?" he asks.

You glance behind you before you take the hand that's offered, looking for Changbin's camera. You find it in the corner of your eye, pointed safely at Felix as he endeavours to take uninterrupted selfies up against the back wall. When you turn back, Chan is still waiting, his hand steady and his patience unending, as if he'd stand there an eon if it meant you would walk up those stairs with him.

"Ready," you say, the word dragging all your breath out with it, and you take his hand, the warmth of his palm sinking into your cold fingers and the strength of his grip dragging you up into the world above.

---

A squeal of delight that echoes in the large, empty space is all the warning you get before a body barrels into you, uncaring of the phone held in your hands or even if you're looking up when she meets you.

Minseo, her hands cold and her body familiar as she hugs you tight enough to squeeze all the breath out of your lungs and then pulls away to look at your face with a smile that you feel like you haven't seen in decades. Her cheeks are pink from the cold air outside, her gaze alight as a giggle rises to the surface of her breath at the luck or the absurdity of you meeting in this place, at this time, after so long apart. 

"I can't believe you're here," she says, as if you haven't known for weeks that you would be in the same hotel at the same time, scheduled to perform the same day. "I can't believe I'm here. God, we have so much to catch up on."

"I can't believe I'm here either," you answer. "After everything that's happened this year-"

"Don't you dare tell me you might not have been here," Minseo threatens, one finger prodding at the air between you. 

"Maybe I was going to say we might not have been here," you lie.

She sees through you immediately, arms crossing over her chest. "No, you weren't."

No, I wasn't. "Are we hanging out in your room or mine?" you ask instead to distract her.

Her eyes stray to the desk behind her, where her managers and the rest of her group wait patiently. "Well I don't even have my room yet, so..." her voice trails off suggestively, her back turning on her team with the conviction that tells you she would abandon them here without a second thought if you let her.

"Get your key first," you say, reaching out and pushing her back towards the desk. "I'll come up with you."

"But I can't wait that long to hear what you've been doing here for three days," she whines.

"Nothing special," you insist.

TAGLIST

@kokinu09 @rainfallingfromthesky @lixie-phoria @mysweethannie @chlodavids

@hanniemylovelyquokka @tfshouldidohere @lauraliisa @puppysmileseungmin @kalopsian-thoughts

@puppy-minnie @readerofallthingss @dvbkie099 @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @acker-night

@d-chagi @lynlyndoll @borahae-reads @ihrtlix @yienmarkk

@minhwa @i2innie @jinnie-ret @conwunder @amesification

@starssongs98 @weirdhumanbeinglol @morinuu @the-weird-mold-in-the-sink @bokkiesplace

@amyyscorner @jiisungllvr @skzstaykatsy @blackhairandbangs @jungkookies1002

@hyuuukais @imsiriuslyreal @thatonedemigodfromseoul @gini143 @mercurywritesstuff

@splat00z @filmbypsh @palindrome969 @crabrangoongirl25 @enzos-shit

@jabmastersupriseee @kayleefriedchicken @hynjinswrld @duhgurl @cheshireshiya

@keepswingin

[blueepink07]

Compared to others, this scene shows in a more subtle way the fact that she made love with her client.

Not only just the skirt is a good indicator, but also the water bottle, which is on her stomach!

(It is a Coca Cola water brand )

And Iroha refers to the fundamentals!

Also... The water is safe for babies to drink.

The Iroha poem itself is also an interesting subject that I intend to expand more!

[heygerald]

Falling Without A Harness - Chapter 1

AU where Tom Ryder is still an asshole, just not a psychotic one. This is the story of how he's first introduced to Colt's sister, Parker. Let's just say that neither party was all that impressed.

read the story here: next

Tom Ryder was hot.

The ads plastered on bus terminals and billboards, with all of their post-photoshoot/pre-production editing and touch-ups, weren't shit compared to the real thing.

The real thing, standing fifty feet across from her having just finished talking through his upcoming scene with the production team was tall and hunky and had gel wet tufts of blonde hair perfectly strung across his forehead. He walked—swaggered—with a sureness that was hard to find nowadays; made all the more impressive when he was swarmed by makeup artists touching up the foundation on his cheeks without stumbling once.

The outfit didn't help either. She hadn't seen Colt yet, but she was confident that her brother wouldn't be caught dead wearing tight, white pants that clung to his every curve, indent, and muscle like Ryder was. He wore them slung low on his hips, perfectly hard abs trailing down towards the sliver of white skin peeking out from beneath an underwear brand she would never be able to afford. Some sort of aloofness—or, perhaps, a love for his own toned body—had his shirt strung over his shoulder as if it were a mere accessory and not something to cover his chest.

Even his eyes were bright, star-inducing, and captivating in the way romance novels often described Fabio.

And... god damn.

Parker had to remind herself to swallow, breathe, and close her mouth before the proverbial flies started swan diving inside.

She liked to think of herself as both professional and not a total creep. She didn't have a problem keeping her eyes to herself at the gym, at the park, at the pool. Blonde men weren't even her type. Actors much less so.

A movie star? The movie star? Please.

Parker would relentlessly tease her brother when he would get all flustered staring at the poster of Cindy Crawford on the wall of his childhood bedroom. She was just a woman, after all.

But now...

Christ, how was it so hot at six am?

She brushed some hair off of her forehead while fiddling with the flimsy label on her water bottle; trying, and failing to pretend that she hadn't just been ogling the lead actor like a starving dog staring at a hambone. People milled around her as she breathed, Venti offering a wave as she hurried off to her next location.

But then there was a wayward bee she had to swat away, pulling her gaze right back up to where it had been, and this time she found that he was the one staring at her.

Static hummed in the back of her mind; no thoughts.

Just Tom Ryder.

Tom Ryder looking delectable in his lack of clothing.

Tom Ryder gazing at her with eyes so blue she suspected he had to be wearing some sort of fake contacts.

Tom Ryder who now was opening his mouth, showing off the teeniest glimpse of dimples, a row of pearly white teeth (where those real?), clearing his throat to say—

"I've been waiting on my coffee for ten minutes now. What the hell is the hold-up?"

Static.

"Huh?" she asked dumbly.

He rolled his eyes, squaring his shoulders at her as he slumped inelegantly into what had previously been her seat.

"My usual. Flat white, nonfat milk, three shots of espresso, with no foam. Extra hot, of course," he recited in a deadpan. It wasn't a polite sort of thing, though, and as she continued to stare at him Parker watched as he swatted away the same bee that had been bothering her with a huff.

As if—how dare a bee bother someone like me!

"Um," she started. Then, when she realized that she wasn't speaking real words, Parker quickly tuned her brain back to a channel that wasn't just static. This channel concentrated around the disbelief at his attitude. "Excuse me?"

He was on his phone now—she wasn't sure where he had conjured it from considering how desperately tight his pants where—and without even looking up he scoffed. "I have a scene in twenty, and I need to have time between drinking my coffee and acting so I'm not all jittery. Honestly, it's not that hard."

Parker blinked at him, then in the general area around them. For a moment she expected a bunch of cameras to be shoved in her face—ha ha! you've been punk'd!—but no one popped out of any bushes. In fact, it seemed that the moment Ryder approached her the surrounding vicinity had emptied.

A pair of assistants across the way caught her eye, immediately went pale in the face, and quickly ducked in the opposite direction as if they had forgotten some important task.

She didn't know what to say, or how to say it, and so Parker just settled with an emphatic scoff. "No."

To that, Tom paused in his texting, and glanced up at her. This time, he was the one that looked bewildered. "What?"

"I said, no," she repeated a bit firmer this time. It felt a bit like sailing, though, and now that she had some wind beneath her sails she found her thoughts functioning once more. "Find someone else to get your cappuccino. Or, better yet, do it yourself."

His eyebrows furrowed crossly. "It was a flat white."

"Fucking great," she snarked, throwing her arms up at him because she didn't quite know what else to do. "There's a Starbucks right over there."

Tom's entire face scrunched up. Ironically, it wasn't an attractive look on him, and suddenly Parker was wondering if all the photo editing was necessary if that's what he normally looked like.

Arrogance was not a good look on anyone. No matter how tight the pants.

"It's your job."

"It's absolutely not," she snapped. He responded by straightening in his (her) seat, phone cast aside, but she cut him off before he could say anything else as equally ridiculous. "And, for the record, if someone ever talked to me like that at my real job, I would quit on the spot."

His features slackened in response.

Parker half wondered if he was hearing static now.

There was the sound of a bullhorn on the far side of the parking lot, and a whole train of people slowly started swarming the area as whatever scene they were filming ended. A pair of stuntmen ambled by, followed by some camera crew, and on the far edge of everything she saw a familiar head of hair step out of a truck.

Familiar as it was identical to the man sitting in front of her.

Not having anything else to say and not trusting herself not to get escorted off the premises for verbally berating the star actor, Parker just snatched her jacket out from behind him with a pointed glare before heading towards where she had last spotted Colt.

It took a bit of effort to dodge all of the people, equipment, and vehicles.

"Uh, hey!" he called after her. Just the sound of his voice seemed to scare some nearby crew into pretending they were busy, and Parker bit the inside of her cheek when she heard his sneakers scrambling after her. "Who do you think you are?"

"Who do you think you are?" she scoffed.

He appeared at her elbow, ducking at the last minute to avoid walking directly into a wooden panel that was being hefted by two burly men. "I'm Tom Ryder."

Bleh.

Parker almost gagged. "Jesus Christ. You can't be serious?"

"Are you—? Of course I'm serious. I am Tom Ryder!"

"That was a rhetorical question," she deadpanned. Something red and embarrassed colored his cheeks. Parker may have taken sympathy on him if he didn't immediately power through the feeling to glare at her. "Just because you're Tom Ryder doesn't mean you get to be an ass to people. Employees or not."

They paused in their argument as a full length mirror was carted in front of them, and with the tug of an elbow she didn't have a choice but to face him.

"I'm not an asshole," he stressed. Though, his tone and glare counteracted the statement no matter how much emphasis he put into it.

Parker rolled her eyes, pleased when the mirror moved past, and elected not to respond at all as she continued on her way. He followed with another, sharper scoff.

"I'm not!"

"No, you're just waiting on your cappuccino, right?" she retorted before squeezing between two tightly parked trailers.

"It was a flat white!" he called after her.

Parker waved a hand flippantly over her shoulder, happy that she had finally managed to shake him, before she was popping out on the opposite side. It was much less crowded here. Just a few assistants, some guys with sound equipment, and her brother chatting a little bit too closely with a pretty blonde woman.

When they didn't notice her approach she had to clear her throat.

The pair jumped apart. The woman, with a red blush on her cheeks, smoothed out her hair with a nervous smile. Colt, on the other hand, greeted Parker with his stereotypical 'no-thoughts-behind-those-eyes' grin.

"Hey, there you are. I was worried you got lost or something."

"Once or twice, but Venti was nice enough to keep me company while we waited for you to come back. Here's your phone," she handed over the device with a half-hearted tut. "Next time don't leave it at home when you have to be on set at a quarter to dawn."

Colt faked a wince. "Sorry. Thanks for bringing it."

Parker waved him off. It wasn't the first time that her brother had forgotten something important, and it certainly wouldn't be the last time. The woman he had been canoodling with was far more interesting a subject this early in the day.

"Hi," she said, sticking her hand out. "I'm Parker."

The blonde responded with a warm smile and a firm hand shake.

Pretty, she thought. Then with a glance at her brother the snarky voice added, too pretty for this idiot.

"Jody. You're Colt's sister?"

"Ah, that's what Mom and Dad told her," Colt joked, leaning towards Jody to add in a stage whisper. "Truthfully, they found her in a parking lot. Just crying in a cardboard box, covered in shit. Tragic, you know. But what can you do? The orphanage wasn't accepting anymore walk-ins so they just had to keep her."

Parker smacked him on the back of the head while Jody laughed.

"Hey, take it easy, Park. I think I still have a concussion from this morning's barrel roll," he whined while subtly rubbing a sore spot on his neck. He was covered in sand and fake glass, and Jody took a moment to brush it out of his hair. He was utterly pleased to have her touching him. Suddenly, the wounded look didn't feel so genuine. "My insurance doesn't cover domestic violence, you know."

"Does it cover domestic kissing?" she asked with a devious waggle of the eyebrows.

Jody immediately turned pink.

"You can leave now, Park," Colt deadpanned. He waved his phone at her pointedly. "Thanks for the delivery and everything, uh, see you at Christmas, have fun with whatever it is you spend your days doing—"

Parker swatted his hands away as he tried to usher her in the direction she had come. He whined at that as well—blowing air on his bruised and bloodied knuckles—while she slipped under his elbow to shoulder right up next to Jody.

"Want to get drinks?" she asked.

Jody blinked. First at Parker, then to Colt. "Er... right now?"

"After your shift. I have an over abundance of limes and mint at the moment thanks to my roommate. I could make us some mojitos. Share some childhood stories about Colt, maybe show you some high school yearbook pictures. He had a bowl cut until his twenties, you know."

"No, no, no," Colt intervened with a nervous chuckle. His bruised knuckles didn't seem to mind manhandling her by the neck as he tugged her away from Jody. "That's not—bowl cuts were cool here in America, but, uh... You don't need to talk to her, okay. Just ignore her, Jody. There's no need to take pity on her just because she was abandoned in a Walmart parking lot."

"Oh, it's Walmart now, is it?" she chirped while struggling in his hold. Jody bit her lip to hold in her laugh. "Last time it was Target. The time before that it was a Ralph Lauren."

"It's going to be a retirement home if you don't—"

"I love mojitos," Jody chimed in much to Parker's delight.

She grinned while Colt pinched the bridge of his nose in defeat.

"You really don't have to," he tried.

"I want to."

"Are you sure? Like sure sure. Because she was arrested once for stalking, you know. And lying. She's a big ole liar, this one."

"Oh," Jody giggled with a sparkle in her eye, "I'm very sure."

"Because—"

Colt and Jody's joking was cut off when Tom Ryder—gone, but not forgotten—appeared with a huff. He still didn't have his coffee, and it looked like the lack of caffeine wasn't helping his mood in the slightest. At the very least he was now wearing his shirt. "Is she bothering you, too? Do I need to call security?"

The three froze.

Colt swung his head between Ryder and his sister (who he now had in a head lock) while his eyes grew to cartoonish proportions.

"She bothered you?" he asked in a high-pitched voice. Parker pinched the sensitive spot on his hip when he squeezed her with his elbow, and Tom's eyebrows drifted all the way up his forehead when Colt let out an embarrassingly girlish squeal. Her brother did his best to save face by clearing his throat. "I, uh, I thought I told you not to talk to anyone, Park? Or bother anyone? Or do anything other than sit and wait for me!"

"I was waiting for you."

"What did you do?"

"Nothing!"

"Oh, nothing. That's rich," he hissed down at her before planting a big smile on his face. As if he wasn't currently talking around the woman he had in a chokehold. "Sorry, Tom. She was just dropping something off for me. I told her to mind her own business, but she's never been all that good at doing what she was told. I'm pretty sure she should be in a med ward right now. Insomnia, pill addiction, the works. Nothing she says should be taken for granted. You know, one time she broke into a—"

"Okay, that's it," she sighed.

Then promptly elbowed her brother in the balls. Colt didn't have any air in his lungs to squeal, but they all watched him pitch forward with a noise that sounded suspiciously close to a gag.

She shot him a purely unimpressed look before straightening up, fixing her hair, and announcing, "I wasn't bothering him. I was minding my own business. He was bothering me."

Tom's jaw slackened in disbelief. "You called me an asshole!"

"You were being an asshole!"

"I'm Tom Ryder. I'm allowed to be an asshole if I want!"

Parker smirked. "Oh, so you admit it then. You were being an asshole."

He stuttered, unsure of how to respond to that, while Colt propped a finger in the air between them. He was still bent over in pain, breathing through his nose, as he added in a breathy voice, "you can be an asshole if you want."

The placation did nothing, and Tom's eyes bugged wide in disbelief as he shouted, "I wasn't being an asshole!"

The crewmen milling about all paused to glance at Tom; an assistant started yelling into her headset in the interim. Embarrassed, Tom took a few deep breaths while running a hand through his hair. Parker hated how easily his locks fell into perfect curls on his forehead. Effortless.

Hot.

Ugh! She really hated men.

There was a noise halfway between a giggle and a cough, and Parker peeked over her shoulder to find Jody smothering her amusement at the situation behind her hand. Her eyes still sparkled, though, and Parker was sure right then and there that she would get along just fine with Colt's new lady friend.

When Tom glanced at her, however, she pretended to swat away a bug with an innocent wide-eyed look.

"Sorry," she cleared her throat as professionally as she could manage. "There was a... fly."

Colt found his voice—and breath by then—and as he straightened to his full height he put on his best serious looking face. "Listen, man, I'm sorry about my sister. She's not even supposed to be here. I just forgot something at home and—"

"She's your sister?"

Colt hemmed and hawed. "Well, you know, not technically. There was this whole box-at-a-Walmart type situation but—we don't have to get into it," he waved a hand flippantly when he caught the bewildered furrow of Tom's eyebrows. "She was just about to leave. You'll never have to see her again. Who knows? Maybe she'll die of loneliness or something. Crazier things have happened."

Parker rolled her eyes at her brother's blatant ass kissing. It was pathetic, and a little bit embarrassing.

"I didn't know you had a sister," Tom said as he stared at her. There was a new light in his eyes; enlightened, maybe. Suspicious, definitely. Parker crossed her arms with a petulant huff through her nose. "I thought you were, like, an orphan."

"Why would you...?" Colt started, before shaking away the thought. "Nope. I got parents. And a sister. Obviously. A sister that was just about to leave. Right, Parker?"

She definitely could have hung around a little longer if she felt like being a right pain in the ass, but it wasn't even seven am, she had yet to eat breakfast, and she was getting a headache from being around someone that was so incredibly hot yet so incredibly awful. It was like her brain didn't know how to compute every time she looked at him.

Parker conceded with a sigh. "Yeah, I was just leaving."

"See?" he smiled. "She was just leaving."

She ignored her brother's pestering to smile at Jody. "It was nice meeting you. You can get my number from Colt, and I'll text you my address."

Despite the attention of Tom and Colt, Jody managed a genuine smile. "Brills. I'll see you later then. Assuming you don't die of loneliness between now and then."

Parker snorted. Jody giggled. Colt was still breathing steadily through his nose and trying not to puke.

"You can come too, dipwad," she reminded him tartly. Beside him Tom crossed one arm over the other with a sour look. She doubted he liked being talked over and not to, as well as having been called an asshole three times in a single conversation. To him she gave a pretty flap of the eyes. "You're not invited."

He ground his jaw at her, but she could see the flicker of annoyance to not be included in this little get together. "I'd rather eat dirt."

"You might have to if your coffee takes any longer," she chirped in response. Parker stuck around long enough for him to realize she was goading him before turning to leave. She waggled her fingers at him on her way past. "Break a leg!"

She was feeling pretty good about herself as she headed off in the direction that she had come from. There were even more people milling about now that the new scene was about to start. And just as she ducked past a truck of equipment, there was a shrill call of, "I have a flat white for Mr. Ryder!'

Parker peeked back just in time to watch him burn his tongue on the coffee.

Extra hot, indeed.

...............

The Fall Guy was one of the best movies I've seen in a while! As an OG Aaron Taylor-Johnson fangirl, I had to write this blurb just to get the itch out of my brain. No idea if I will transition this into something more or not. For now, please enjoy my brain itchiness and ATJ.

[oraclefreak]

Dead Poets Society boys headcanons I thought of while showering: showering edition (sounds ironic)

Charlie: bro uses an IRRATIONAL amount of shampoo. Most probably has finished one entire bottle in a matter of 4 days before (shampoo prices must not be an issue for him, I guess). His hair somehow isn't damaged, and not even god knows why. Takes an hour for him to finish showering. He talks in the shower, and if it's in Hellton showers he will talk to someone else while showering (Knox and him get idiotically philosophical; call it shower thoughts that are actually spoken)

Cameron: this mf measures the amount of shampoo he uses. I never knew someone who did this, but I can DEFINITELY GUESS that Cameron has a measuring cup just for shampoo. His showers are short compared to the others, probably because he doesn't think about other things rather than to finish showering. Uses more hair products outside the shower (the youngsters would call it 'styling').

Meeks: he's a little more normal. But DEFINITELY has realizations while showering, it's just that he doesn't say them out loud. Suddenly his mind speaks to him about how to set up the DIY radio to work or something like that and he won't talk to anyone after the shower until he has it sorted out (will go RUNNING like he's running out of time to tell Pitts). Probably 25 minutes long showers because he also uses a product to keep his curls okay.

Knox: who told this dumbass that putting on perfume while the water is running and he's still showering is okay? Multiple people had told him that IT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE, but he's like "no, guys, I swear it works... because the other day-", and he's mentioning an event that has nothing to do with putting on perfume in the shower. I can imagine one of his talks where he goes OVERLY philosophical and Charlie just tells him that he's 'talking stupid'. He takes (slightly) less than one hour just to not be called the one who takes the most time in the shower (a.k.a Charlie Dalton)

Neil: WHO put theater kid music in here? Social anxiety fears this dude. Not only he sings his favorite musicals, he also mumbles the dialogue for his next play. I'm certain that more than 7 people in Hellton have memorized at least one line from his dialogue just by listening to him (even if it's mumbling people can still hear him). Takes like 40 minutes for him to finish showering, and most of it is him trying to remember his parts in the play (sometimes Todd, who has them memorized after reading the script multiple times, tells him the next word and Neil yells it with excitement in an 'eureka' type of way). I think he would do a little skincare while showering, maybe just one product to clean his face and then wash it off.

Todd: always takes him 19 minutes straight to finish showering, some of the poets wonder if he has a watch to know when to come out (it has been proved scientifically that he does not take less or more than 19 minutes). Has a panic attack every time the soap slips. For some reason also uses conditioner... Who told him that he has to use it? I don't know (your hair isn't even that long, dude). Has the typical writer struggle of having an awesome idea but not having anything to write at the moment (has suffered the pain of forgetting what the idea was). Unlike the other poets, he does not do much after showering rather than brushing his hair and then dissociating (partially canon, I guess)

Pitts: he tried to get the shampoo out violently once, and it ended all over the place except his hand. He's more conscious about it now and it didn't happen ever again since then. He's a thinker, but not a philosophical one (like Charlie or Knox) or a genius one (like Meeks). His thoughts range from "did I turn off my desk lamp", to "TRIG HOMEWORK IS DUE TOMORROW AND I DIDN'T FINISH IT YET". Awfully specific but probably uses two brands of shampoo (I don't know where the idea came from but I can see it). Takes him a little bit more than 25 minutes to finish showering but does not usually reach 30 minutes long showers.

I don't know where all of these came out of.

[sgiandubh]

Whisky, gin and beer

It was always going to be about beer, too - not only whisky and gin. And it was probably designed to be a simultaneous project, that might have been postponed for various reasons: funny how all those intelligent people across the street forget everything about COVID, when it does not fit their agendas. And by COVID, I do not mean only the prolonged lockdowns, but first and foremost the worldwide logistics crisis, with compromised supply chains and overall a huge blow on the transports' sector.

In fact, looking at those trademark websites, it becomes evident that first (now abandoned) trademark application for beer was filed in at the same time as the one for whisky, on December 28, 2018:

Separate categories, as per US regulations, need separate filings, of course. And beer is a brilliant, simple idea, with high quality local ingredients (it's really barley, water, hops and yeast) relatively easy to source. Well, spare perhaps for the hops, but that is not really a problem, anymore:

(Source: the James Hutton Institute's booklet Hops in Scotland, 2018 - well, then. The institute is based in Dundee, by the way, so I think they know exactly what they are talking about, especially after a four year long feasibility study with encouraging results: https://www.hutton.ac.uk/news/scottish-hops-viable-commercial-crop-hutton-research-finds)

As I always make a point of reminding anyone, this page does not deal in fantasy and empty, meaningless scouring of social media accounts. And cackle to your heart's content, Mordor, but S seems to have a genuine, informed interest in the industry, as shown above.

This is a different business plan and a different marketing model, based on affordable production costs and yield/volume (as compared to successive, 'limited batches' of tequila or whisky, where the accent is placed on the excellence of the product and know-how, as reflected in the final price tag). You can bottle that beer or you can sell it on tap, partnering with local bars and pubs first, then progressively extending that network. And I bet the farm it is going to be a premium, artisanal beer first, with options open for a more democratic product, once brand awareness is properly built: beer is versatile, like that.

Whisky and gin were expensive, carefully curated pet projects. Beer is a fun, easy and lucrative one, with a wider clientele and fast growing potential. And this is how that unknown, struggling Scottish actor who once was the face of Tennent's has a fair opportunity to strike it big. To be followed, which I might do. And this is also how his products could cover the entire price range, from luxury to affordable.

It is also always disheartening to see how all those bitter women congregating on certain Tumblr pages feel the need to dismiss anything he does. As I always said and I always will, many of them have no idea about the very basics of business and trade, no exposure to that world and, to be honest, no particular intellectual acuity. Plus I bet the farm many of them lie about their own circumstances: it's easy to pretend, on the Internet and always sexier (and lame, of course) to introduce yourself as a corporate whatever than a secretary. But I wonder how would they feel, in the unlikely situation they would be running their own lemonade stand, if passers by started cackling and bitching about their trade, out of the blue.

So, all in all, we seem to be dealing with some careful preparation, portfolio diversification and yes, taking much needed strides away from McGrandma. To be continued, of course...

PS: FMN Gin, still crickets? Ahhh...

[justherbert10]

Chance Meetings

This is my first story! enjoy!

word count: ~3400

The air in the bustling press room of the SoFi Stadium is charged with electricity as the LA Chargers celebrate their latest victory. Justin, the star quarterback, stands tall, his blue eyes scanning the sea of faces, looking for a moment of reprieve from the storm of flashing cameras and eager reporters. His gaze locks onto a figure that seems to glow amidst the chaos—a young woman with y/e/c and y/h/c hair, her smile as radiant as the setting sun. Y/n, a rising star in the world of entertainment and a surprise guest due to her friendship with Formula 1 legend Lewis Hamilton, feels the same magnetic pull. As they are introduced, their hands meet in a firm but gentle handshake, a silent promise of friendship, and perhaps more, in a world that often feels scripted.

"Justin, you make dodging defensive lines look like a cakewalk compared to dodging these paparazzi!" She playfully nudges his arm, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Ah, you've got to learn the art of the juke, Y/n," he says with a wink. "But I'd say you're pretty adept at navigating through crowds with that charm of yours." He nods towards the group of star-struck fans that had gathered around her earlier.  The corner of Y/n's mouth twitches upwards in a knowing smile as she leans closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "You think I'm good? You should see me when I'm dodging the plot twists in my next movie script."

Justin chuckles, the sound resonating deep in his chest. "Now that's a game I wouldn't mind watching you play," he says, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He glances around the room, noticing the way people's eyes keep darting in their direction. The whispers and glances from the other attendees don't go unnoticed. "You know, it's crazy how quickly the spotlight finds us," he muses, a hint of wistfulness in his voice. "I miss the days when I could just grab a burger without someone asking for a selfie." He sighs, looking down at his hand wrapped around a bottle of water. "But I guess that's the price we pay for chasing our dreams, right?"

"It definitely has its perks," Y/n agrees, her smile wistful. "But sometimes I just want to be Y/n from Y/h/t again, you know?" She takes a sip of her drink, her eyes scanning the room before returning to Justin's. "So, tell me, how does a small-town boy from Oregon become the heartthrob of LA?"

"Well," Justin says, leaning back slightly, "It's a long story, but it all started with a love for the game and a father who believed in me more than anyone else." He pauses, his gaze drifting momentarily before refocusing on Y/n. "But let's not talk about me. What brings you to the world of football, Y/n?"

"Ah, the world of football," she echoes, her eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. "It's all thanks to Lewis. He's like a father figure to me, and he's been introducing me to his own brand of speed and competition." She smiles warmly at the mention of her mentor. "But honestly, I've always had a soft spot for sports. It's like watching a live-action movie with the most unpredictable plot twists."

Justin nods, understanding the allure of the unpredictable. "Sounds like you've got a taste for the thrill," he says, leaning in slightly, his voice a mix of curiosity and admiration. "You ever get the chance to throw a ball around, or are you strictly an audience kind of girl?" His words are teasing, but there's a genuine interest in his eyes. He's used to people seeing him as the poster boy for the sport, not a regular guy who enjoys a good toss.

"Oh, you'd be surprised," Y/n says, her smile widening as she recounts tales of her impromptu football sessions with Lewis. "He's been trying to teach me the basics, and I've got to say, I'm not half bad." She mimics throwing a perfect spiral, her hand twisting gracefully through the air. "But let's not tell anyone, I wouldn't want to ruin your reputation."

Justin laughs, the sound rich and genuine. "Your secret's safe with me, Y/n. Besides, I've seen enough Hollywood magic to know that anything's possible with the right coach." He leans in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "And if you ever need some tips from the real deal, you know where to find me."

The connection between them is palpable, a silent understanding that they share a common ground of chasing dreams and navigating fame. Y/n's eyes dance with excitement at the prospect of learning from a pro.

 "You know, I might just take you up on that," she says, her voice filled with the excitement of a child offered a secret treat. "But for now, let's enjoy the rest of the night. Maybe we can find a quiet spot where we don't have to whisper over the din of the party?" She glances around the room, her gaze lingering on the crowded space.

"I know just the place," Justin says, his eyes lighting up with a mischievous glint. He motions for her to follow him with a subtle nod of his head. They weave through the throng of people, his hand occasionally brushing against the small of her back, guiding her gently through the sea of bodies.

They arrive at a secluded patio area, the cool evening breeze carrying the faint scent of jasmine from the nearby garden. The noise of the party fades into the background, leaving only the distant murmur of the ocean and the occasional cheer from the die-hard fans watching the post-game analysis on the outdoor screens. Justin pulls out a chair for her, his movements as smooth as the passing plays he's known for. As they sit, their legs brush against each other, sending a shiver of anticipation up Y/n's spine. "This is more my speed," he says with a genuine smile, looking around the quiet space.

Y/n's eyes widen in delight as she takes in the serene surroundings. The twinkling lights strung above cast a soft glow over the patio, creating a cozy haven amidst the cacophony of the event. "It's like stepping into a different world," she whispers, her voice filled with wonder. She runs her fingers along the cool metal of the chair, feeling the gentle vibrations of the distant cheers. As she sits, she crosses her legs, the fabric of her dress whispering against her skin. The sensation of his hand briefly on her back lingers, sending a warmth that spreads through her body. She returns his smile, her heart fluttering at the kindness behind the gesture. "Thank you for this," she says, her eyes meeting his, the blue depths of his irises reminding her of the Pacific she'd seen in photos from his hometown.

Justin pulls out a chair for Y/n with a chivalrous grace that seems almost out of place amidst the flashy glamour of the event. He can't help but feel a swell of pride at her approval, the corners of his mouth curling up into a genuine smile. As they sit, the energy between them shifts, becoming more intimate, more real. He leans back in his chair, the leather creaking softly under his weight, and takes a deep breath, savoring the scent of jasmine that fills the air. "It's the least I could do," he says, his voice low and earnest. "I know how overwhelming these things can get. Sometimes you just need a break from the madness." His gaze holds hers for a moment longer than necessary, the silence stretching out like a tightrope between them. Then, with a shrug of his broad shoulders, he cracks open a beer, the cap flying off with a satisfying hiss. "So, what's your favorite thing about LA?"

"The people," Y/n says without hesitation, her eyes lingering on the horizon where the stadium lights bleed into the night sky. "Everyone's got a story, a dream they're chasing. It's like the whole city's alive with possibility." She takes a sip of her drink, the cool liquid a welcome contrast to the warmth of the evening. "But I miss the quiet nights back home, where you can hear the crickets and the rustle of leaves." She looks at him, curiosity piqued. "What about you, Justin? What do you miss most about Oregon?"

"The rain," Justin says with a nostalgic smile, his eyes reflecting the distant twinkle of the stars. "There's something about the way it sounds on the roof, the smell of wet earth, and the quiet that follows. It's like the world's hushing itself so you can hear your own thoughts." He takes a swig of his beer, the foam clinging to his upper lip for a moment before he wipes it away with the back of his hand. "But LA has its moments. The ocean, the palm trees...it's got its own kind of magic."

The conversation flows easily between them, their shared experiences of leaving small towns for the big city creating a bond that feels both familiar and exciting. The sound of their laughter intertwines with the distant murmur of the party, creating a symphony of shared secrets and new beginnings.

The moment is shattered by the sudden appearance of Joey, his towering frame silhouetted by the light spilling from the party inside. His boisterous laughter fills the night air as he claps Justin on the shoulder, a knowing smirk playing across his face. "Well, well, well," he says, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Looks like someone's finally decided to take my advice and snag themselves a date." Justin rolls his eyes, but the warmth in his cheeks betrays his embarrassment. Y/n laughs, the sound like the tinkling of glass bells, and shakes her head. "You two really are like brothers," she says, playfully swatting at Joey's hand. "Could you at least pretend to be subtle?" Joey just chuckles, his eyes flicking between the two of them before he settles into the chair next to Justin, his grin unabashed. "So, what's the story here?" he asks, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. "Or is it too early for me to start planning the wedding?"

Justin's cheeks redden slightly as he tries to brush off Joey's teasing. "It's not a date," he mumbles, his voice gruff. But the smile that tugs at his lips gives him away. Y/n giggles, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves," she says, playfully nudging Joey's arm. "We're just two friends enjoying a quiet night amidst the madness." Joey winks at her, his blond hair catching the light. "Friends, huh?" He leans back in his chair, a smug look on his face. "Well, if you say so. But if you ever need a best man, I'm your guy." The air between Justin and Y/n crackles with unspoken tension as they share a look that speaks volumes about the depth of their connection.

The playful banter between Justin and Joey brings a blush to Y/n's cheeks, but she quickly recovers, her laughter as bright as the stars above. She playfully swats at Joey's arm. "You're terrible," she says, though the smile on her face tells a different story. "But I'm surprised you noticed. Usually, you're too busy breaking defensive lines to care about my social life."

Joey's grin stretches from ear to ear as he takes a seat next to Justin, his eyes gleaming with mischief. He nudges Justin with his elbow, his voice a playful rumble. "Finally," he says, waggling his eyebrows. "I've been waiting for you to find someone who can keep up with your fast pace, both on and off the field." He winks at Y/n, his blue eyes twinkling with a hint of teasing. "And let me tell you, Justin here is the king of slow plays. But I see the way you two look at each other, and it's like watching a highlight reel of a perfect game." He laughs, slapping his knee. "I'd say it's about time you scored a touchdown in the love department, buddy."

Justin's eyes dart to Y/n, his cheeks reddening further. He playfully shoves Joey's shoulder, trying to deflect the attention. "You're one to talk, Joey," he counters, his voice tight with a mix of embarrassment and amusement. "Remember that time you tried to woo the mayor's daughter with your 'world-famous' pancake recipe?" The memory brings a round of laughter to the trio, breaking the tension.

"Oh no," Y/n gasps dramatically, her eyes widening. "What happened?" She leans in, eager for the juicy details, her curiosity piqued by the sudden shift in the conversation.

Justin's eyes widen in mock horror as Joey crashes into the conversation, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red. He playfully swats at his friend's massive arm, trying to shoo him away like a pesky fly. "It's not a date," he protests, his voice a little too loud. His heart races in his chest as he feels the weight of Joey's words, the truth behind the teasing. But he can't deny the thrill that runs through him at the thought of it being true. He glances at Y/n, her laughter lighting up her face, and feels a warmth spread through him that has nothing to do with the beer. "You're just jealous because you can't handle a night without making headlines," he says, his voice tinged with affectionate sarcasm. Joey just laughs, not bothered in the slightest by the jab.

Y/n's laughter is like a summer breeze, light and airy, filling the quiet corner of the patio with a gentle warmth. She watches the playful banter between the two friends with an amused smile, her Y/e/c eyes sparkling. She's used to being the center of attention, but there's something refreshing about being part of this unscripted moment. When Joey finally takes a seat, his presence is like a warm embrace, reminding her of the camaraderie that comes with shared experiences. "So, you're the one who's been trying to play matchmaker," she says, tilting her head to the side as she assesses him with a playful glint in her eye. "What's your secret? Spill it, I want in on the action." She leans in conspiratorially, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass, her eyes darting between Joey and Justin, enjoying the blend of embarrassment and camaraderie between them.

Joey's laugh booms across the patio, the sound resonating with the easy comfort of an old friend who knows all the best stories. He leans back in his chair, his arms folded behind his head, a smug smile playing on his lips. "Secret?" He says, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "It's simple, really. I just know what a catch my boy here is." He nudges Justin with his elbow, the motion causing the chair to rock slightly. "And when I saw you two," he says, gesturing between them, "I knew it was game over."

The air thickens with the weight of Joey's words, and Justin's heart skips a beat. He clears his throat, trying to regain his composure, his eyes flickering to Y/n. Her smile is gentle, a knowing look in her eyes that suggests she sees right through their playful banter.

"Well, it's been quite the evening," Y/n says, glancing at her phone with a sigh. "But I've got an early call time tomorrow, and I can't let Hollywood's toughest director catch me yawning on set." She stands up, smoothing out her dress with a grace that belies the sudden sadness in her eyes. "Thank you for the escape, guys. It's been... refreshing." She looks at Justin, the unspoken understanding between them as palpable as the night air. "I'll see you around, Justin," she says, her voice a soft caress. "And Joey," she adds, her smile widening, "you keep him out of trouble, okay?"

"Oh, you bet I will," Joey says, his grin never faltering. He stands up as well, towering over both of them. "But you know me, I'm the king of stirring the pot." He winks at Y/n before slapping Justin on the back. "Take care, sweetheart," he says, his tone teasing but affectionate. "And don't let this guy sweet talk you into any crazy bets. He's got a silver tongue when he wants to."

Justin stands up with her, his hand instinctively reaching out to help her chair. "It's been a pleasure, Y/n," he says, his voice sincere, his eyes holding hers for a beat longer than necessary. "I hope our paths cross again soon." The gravity of his words hangs in the air, hinting at the connection that's grown between them in such a short time.

As Y/n says her goodbyes, Justin can't help but feel a pang of regret at their impromptu meeting coming to an end. He watches her slip away into the night, her laughter fading into the buzz of the party. His heart feels lighter than it has in a long time, and he knows that this isn't the last he'll see of her. With a nod to Joey, he gathers his things and heads home, his mind racing with thoughts of her smile, her wit, and the way her eyes lit up when she talked about her love for racing. The quiet of the night seems to amplify his longing as he navigates the city streets, the neon lights reflecting off his windshield like a kaleidoscope of their shared moments.

The party goes on without them, a cacophony of voices and music that now seems a bit hollow. As Y/n's silhouette retreats into the night, Justin can't shake the feeling that he's lost something precious. He says his goodnights to Joey with a forced smile and heads home, his thoughts swirling like a tornado around the charming girl. Her laughter echoes in his mind, her words of kindness and understanding resonating in his soul. The drive back to his beachfront apartment is a blur, the city lights a mere backdrop to the replay of their conversation. He parks his car in the garage, the engine's purr the only sound to break the silence. The cool ocean breeze whispers through the open windows, carrying the faint scent of jasmine from the patio. He can't stop thinking about her, his heart racing with excitement and a hint of fear that he might never find someone who truly gets him like she seems to.

The memory of Y/n's dress clinging to her curves plays on a loop in Justin's mind as he walks into his apartment, the quiet hum of the fridge the only company to his racing thoughts. He tries to shake off the image, but it lingers like the scent of her perfume on his shirt. He heads to the bathroom, the thought of her contagious energy making his pulse quicken. 

As the steam fills the bathroom, Justin's thoughts drift back to the press of Y/n's body against his, the way her dress clung to her curves like a second skin. The memory sends a jolt of desire through him, and he can't help but let his hand wander, his fingertips grazing his abs as he imagines the softness of her touch. His hand moves lower, his thoughts spinning a web of passionate encounters, each more vivid than the last. The water pummels his back, a rhythmic beat that matches the tempo of his thoughts. He pictures her laugh, her eyes sparkling with mischief, and feels a sudden surge of arousal. He lets out a low groan, his hand moving faster as he gives in to the fantasy, the warm water a silent witness to his longing. The climax hits him like a wave, crashing over him and leaving him breathless, his heart pounding against his ribs. He leans heavily against the wall, the water now cold against his skin, as he comes back to reality with a gasp. It's not just physical desire; it's the connection they share that fuels his need for her. He turns off the shower, the silence ringing in his ears, feeling both satisfied and empty, knowing that the real thing would be nothing short of earth-shattering.

[dullgecko]

Don’t know if you’re okay with alcohol (if not ignore this) but I rewatched Rock the Boat and I have Ideas about the bad kids being drunk. We see the bad kids drunk the first few times it happens, but after a while I think they settle into their drunk personas.

Riz distrusts alcohol generally. Anything that negatively affects his perception is a bad idea to him. However, the few times he has gotten drunk, he’s emotional. Think the Sophmore Shrimp Party x10. His emotions are locked right up to the moment he gets drunk. His size doesn’t help, since it means he gets drunk pretty easy compared to his friends.

Fig and Kristin are pretty similar, in that every idea sounds like a good idea. As long as their friends are still happy and no one’s died, they’re all in on everything. Fig has pretty high tolerance from parties on tour, and Kristin microdosed on alcohol all the time because she was convinced that a restricted childhood meant she’d be too much of a lightweight, but she holds her alcohol much better than most. Unfortunately, Kristine brand of chaos means she does not need to be that drunk in order to do many stupid things.

Adaine can not hold her alcohol. She gets tipsy on beer. Depending on who’s around, she either falls asleep immediately or become the most extroverted person imaginable. In the junior year parties, with lots of people she doesn’t know well, she’s loud and friendly and doing magic in every direction. If it’s just her friends on a hangout night, she’ll be asleep by 9. Either way, she wakes up late with an awful hangover.

Fabian doesn’t like drinking because of his mother, so he doesn’t drink often. When he does, Fabian is himself up to eleven. Dramatic, loud, friendly. Fabian once went to a nightclub and came out with twelve new friends and a broken nose. He’s got a decent tolerance, but it’s dropped since high school because he no longer parties every weekend. Miraculously, has pretty easy hangovers, but Fabian sleeps until 10am anyway, so it’s not like it’s useful to him.

Gorgug has high tolerance for a number of reasons. Orc’s have good alcohol tolerance anyway, and his body weight and height are useful. He doesn’t drink as much on tours as Fig, but still has fun. His parents made it clear that alcohol isn’t bad, just be careful. If he’s still sober enough, he keeps Fig and Kristin from falling out the window, and Fabian from getting punched. When he’s actually drunk, he’s just as likely to propose a stupid idea, but will also try to talk everyone out of it. Keeps pain meds in his room because he once woke up hungover and couldn’t get to the bathroom medicine cabinet and almost broke the wall down.

Riz went to the overthinker competition and they disqualified him because he made the other competitors cry when they realised they could never reach his level. Alcohol just... switches off the part of his brain keeping that train going and he turns into a mess. Mostly because his default method of dealing with his own issues is shoving them down as far as possible and burrying them under other thoughts so he doesnt have to deal with it.

Kristen and Fig are those people at a party that you have to supervise heavily even if there ISNT alcohol involved. Look away for a second and all your patio furniture is in the pool, your TV is suspended from the ceiling and someone dyed the cat a weird colour (and this is them SOBER). Alcohol takes their already poor impulse control out back and shoots it in the head.

Drunk Adaine is fun. She drops her inhibitions at the door and can 100% become the life of the party. She can only hold that energy for so long before needing to go take a nap though. Her friends have learned to make her take some painkillers and chug a couple bottles of water before letting her sleep properly just to help prevent the inevitable hangovers.

Fabian grew up with pirates, there's literally no way he could have avoided drinking completely with his father around so he started building a tolerence early. He does know when he has to stop though and usually never goes past 'pleasently tipsy'. He often acts more drunk than he actually is on purpose so he doesnt get called out on it. If he does get wasted he's one of those super friendly cuddly drunks.

Gorgug tries not to get drunk, even though his tolerence is so high. He's more liable to loose control of his emotions and worries he'll either do something stupid or get into a fight and hurt someone. He'll try to stay at the level where things are fun but he's never let himself become blackout drunk because he feels responsible for looking after other people. After the painkiller incident he makes sure to join Adaine in chugging water before going to bed.

[bedrockfactory]

What's the tovoxran(?) society like, is it comparable to how it is or was anywhere on earth?

Thanks for asking! Sorry for extremely late response too, I needed some time to think about it.

I think Tovoxran society can be comparable to that of humans to a certain extend. Here are some facts about it, the first ones can be about their overall civilization tho:

- First of all, the term "Tovoxrans " is pretty much how humans and a few other species call them. The original name of their species (and how they call themselves) is "Tharr". This is totally not a trial to change their name

- Mainly before they invented technology for space travel and colonization of other planets, they lived in large, densely populated cities built around volcanoes. Later, their technology allowed them to build gigantic heat generators instead of having to settle around volcanoes.

- Due to their economy (and kind of their whole civilization too) being heavily industry-based, their cities and pretty much their whole planet is extremely polluted. Their planet's nature has always been the last thing they cared about, hence their civilization' expanding has forced various animal species to retreat from their natural habitats.

- They were forced to enter the space stage for various reasons, the main ones being massive overpopulation and a shortage of resources on their home planet.

- They have a council-based government, which was supposed to rule the whole Empire, but in practice, their management is limited to their home planet and a few closest colonies. The vast majority of the Empire's territory is ruled by corporations and industrialists.

Bonus illustration of a Tharr factory

  Now some facts more regarding their society:

- Underage Tharr (I'm now going to be calling them like this I hope it's not a big problem) is raised by one parent, usually of the same gender as them (son is raised by his father and a daughter is raised by her mother). There can be exceptions, for example when the parent of the same gender as the kid has died or can't take care of a child from another reason.

- They are a gregarious species and tend to stick together. A Tharr leading a completely solitary life is a rare sight.

- Their society and way of thinking is extremely ultilitarian, hence they tend to avoid to produce or use things that aren't that much necessary for their lives. It also means that for example, there aren't multiple brands producing bottled water or things like this. Water is water after all.

- Majority of their population inhabits mining colonies on various planets belonging to the Empire.

- Tharr society is still very stratified and divided to 3 main classes. 1st class are the most educated and important individuals, including industrialists, exceptionally important scientists and diplomats. 2nd class are mostly Tharr with more common jobs and service proffesions. Main occupation for the 3rd class with only basic education is usually a soldier or a "workforce" like an industrial worker, like a miner, factory or refinery worker (don't forget that Tharr supply many other Empires with raw and refined materials so it's kinda necessary). Also the class doesn't necessarily define the respect an individual receives, it's more like a division in terms of living conditions. In most cases 2nd class and 3rd class are very similar.

- Individuals getting the least respect from others are definitely the ones unemployed from choice. They are considered lazy and unnecessary by others.

[szasfuckingwife]

Rockstar girlfriend x rockstar sanzu

DARLING

ROCKSTAR!SANZU x ROCKSTAR GIRLFRIEND! READER

WARNINGS: smoking, smut, insecure Sanzu, unhealthy drinking, miniature toxicity

a/n: THANK YOU for this request, I had fun making it. this is also heavily inspired by Nana (Nana and Ren’s relationship) i fucking love that anime. also, don’t bully me for the corny band name🤭

Rockstar!Sanzu who after a show crashes into the couch in his tour bus, lighting a small cigarette from his favourite brand, the one you put him on. With the overwhelming life whilst on tour, all he wants is to get back home to you. He loves his band, B0N10, and his fans, but nothing compares to you.

Rockstar!Sanzu that laughs when you become pissy about all the bras and panties thrown on stage. You swear you don’t care but him cackling at you makes you break out.

“Don’t laugh! It’s not funny.” You throw a pillow at him, scowling when he catches it with ease. Sanzu would plead and beg for you to forgive him but your cute face getting all furious humours him. He stands and walks over to you, holding your hands.

“Haru-” “Baby, I’m sorry I’m just so irresistible that they throw their underwear at me. Y’know what I think it is? The tongue piercing.” Before you walk away, Sanzu pulls you back, smirking at you. “If anything, they’re complimenting your good taste in men.”

“I would be flattered if they didn’t send letters to our apartment with their phone numbers, in hope that you’d call them.”

Rockstar!Sanzu that makes sure you’re safe when you guys are swarmed with paparazzi. He makes sure your hand is always intertwined with his and always leads you to the car.

“Sanzu, Is it true Y/N is pregnant?!”

“Y/N, does it make you feel worried that Sanzu’s bandmates often go clubbing with women?”

“Y/N, there are pictures of Sanzu meeting up with a girl outside a hotel, any comments about-”

Now, both of you know that those pictures were a hoax and probably made by a stupid journalist company. How? He’s was literally with you the night when those pictures went viral. And why would Sanzu cheat on you? He adores you.

But, he had enough and punched the reporter across the face. The rest of them gasped and cameras flashed rapidly, catching the sight of a shocked Y/N, a reporter on the ground and Sanzu with bloody knuckles.

After you finally make it in your car, Sanzu grumbles a quiet four letter word and begins to drive. “Zu, you didn’t have to do that…”

He shakes his head, “Can’t let these pricks embarrass you like that. And, I’m tired of these stupid fucking lies! I’d never.”

You stroke the back of his hand, sighing deeply, “I know, baby, I know.”

“Management’s gonna be up my ass about this shit.”

Rockstar!Sanzu who has you whimpering on your back after one of his sold out shows. You remember seeing him pour a bottle of water all over himself on stage, causing everyone to see the perfect outline of his abs. Right then, you wished he fucked you right on that stage.

Although not a stage, the hotel room sufficed. Your legs are wrapped around his waist as he bucks his hips into yours, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. With every stroke, your moans grow louder as you get closer and closer to your climax. Sanzu is hungry on your neck, kissing and biting every inch of it, leaving no untouched space.

“You’re fucking tight, Y/N…” He grunts beside your ear. “Ya gonna let me cum inside you, hm?”

You’re too fucked out to form coherent words so you nod as he quickens his pace. Sanzu smirks at the black of your mascara running down your face, wiping your tears as he moans out a, “I’m fucking close, baby!”

You both cum together, but Sanzu doesn’t stop the rocking of his hips just yet. He continues until he feels like he’s done, and by done I mean on the verge of passing out. He collapses next to your body, pink hair sticking on to his sweaty forehead.

“You’re so pretty, Y/N..” He whispers as your eyes flutter close. You hear him moving around, preparing to clean you up. But, just then, you feel him lean close to your ear and whisper, “The prettiest..”

Rockstar!Sanzu who uses your moans in one of his songs on the album. It’s funny seeing his agency looking confused on where Sanzu obtained that recording. His bandmates look at you, chuckling as they remember the sleepless nights they had on tour due to you and Sanzu being in the next room. “I dunno, boss. I got it from a porn site.” He says, smirking at you.

Rockstar!Sanzu who even with your constant reminders, is still insecure. This isn’t an ideal life for anyone, especially when you’re dating a superstar. He wonders if there’s someone else, an escape from his life and a taste of normality. In response, he’d drink hours on end, trying to ignore those thoughts but they’d only remind him more. With the constant failure of trying to start a relationship with his family, you’re the one thing that has always been there. And hell if he loses you to some idiot who doesn’t know you like he does.

“Open the door, Haru.” You sit down, outside the door of the bathroom. In concern, his bandmates called you, explaining what had been going on and with no hesitation, you took the first flight down. “It’s me.”

He cradles his head in his hands as he reminds himself to confront his bandmates about this later. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“I’ve seen you drunk, high, happy, sad - you think I care?” You chuckled. He takes one deep breath before opening the door, facing you.

You smile up at him and he frowns at you with his tear stricken face. “Hey, gorgeous.” You bring your hand to stroke at his cheek and he leans into it. “I missed you.”

“I’ve missed you more than anything.”

You give him a second to take some deep breaths before speaking again, “Let’s talk, babe.”

Rockstar!Sanzu who dedicates songs to you when he knows you’re in the crowd. He doesn’t know exactly what seat your in, but he knows you’re there. And knowing that his favourite girl is in that crowd makes him happy.

“I don’t like getting sentimental. Especially in front of a sold out crowd!” Sanzu laughs into the mic as the sea of fans erupted. “But a very special person is here tonight and she deserves everyone to know that I love her.”

A swarm of ‘awws’ emits from the crowd as Sanzu’s cheeks get just as pink as his hair. “I won’t embarrass myself any longer but I love you, baby. I love you.”

And maybe you’ll get a bunch of crazy fangirls and boys tweeting everything under the sun to you or maybe you’ll be harassed by paparazzi whilst eating a gourmet meal, but as long as you’re doing it with your rockstar boyfriend, you don’t really mind.

[fandomsandfeminism]

So you're worried about losing power in the winter- to buy list for when you can't buy a whole generator.

1. A propane tent heater. Mr. Buddy brand is considered very safe.

https://www.amazon.com/Mr-Heater-F232000-Indoor-Safe-Portable/dp/B002G51BZU/

Have extra propane cannisters on hand if possible. This is an expensive buy compared to the rest of the list, but...so worth it. These have a low oxygen fail safe, so carbon monoxide is a low risk, but I wouldn't sleep *right* up next to it, and would put it near a door, just as an extra precaution.

2. A jet boil or other small water boiler/camp stove and fuel. Loss of power for a whole city will almost always trigger a water boil notice.

Fancy one: https://a.co/d/jiElZbj

Cheaper one: https://a.co/d/j8YM6fx

Make sure you have fuel and have lighters to turn them on. Use these in a well ventilated area and only for short periods. Do not use them for a heat source for a long period of time. They can pose a carbon monoxide risk.

3 hot hands chemical hand warmers. https://a.co/d/2u4DSHG

4. No-prep shelf stable food (protein bars are good. Granola bars. Pop tarts. Tuna packs and crackers. Peanut m and ms. Calories that you can consume without power and without water.)

5. Bottled water.

6. Dry shampoo, baby wipes, mouth wash. If this goes on for days, you'll appreciate being able to feel a little clean.

If you lose power for an extended period in the cold: move all people, animals, and supplies into 1 room (ideally adjoining a bathroom.) Cover any windows with towels and extra blankets. If you have one, a small tent that you can sleep in, set up in that room will further reduce the air your body is trying to warm. The goal is to reduce the volume of space/air you have to keep warm. Layer your clothes, but be careful of sweat. Sweating will make you colder in the long run.

DO NOT try to use a gas stove to stay warm- these are a carbon monoxide risks. We lost a lot of people in the Texas freeze last time to carbon monoxide. Please be careful.

[yaeggravate]

Theory: Kaeya's Mom is a Scion of Nabu Malikata

you know it's funny how we've gotten zero information about the other half of kaeya's family… unless??

warning: slight crack

Kaeya: According to the merchant I bought it from, mysterious spirits called Jinn often live in lamps like this, and this lamp in particular once housed a very powerful Jinni.

in kaeya's hangout, we are gifted a mysterious lamp. kaeya says the merchant who sold it to him claims it once housed a powerful jinni. this lamp is called Mysterious Lamp of Fate Ordained. (remember this.) kaeya then explains what the jinn are as if he just discovered brand new information which is odd because kaeya has told klee a story about a jinni trapped in a lamp before.

aforementioned story is a reference to the story of The Fisherman and the Jinni from One Thousand and One Nights and also to the in-game book The Shepard and the Magic Bottle, a four star quest item that permanently stays in your inventory.

both stories concern a jinni being freed from a magic bottle upon which they grant three wishes. curiously, kaeya uses the last wish of the in-real-life story instead of the game's. in his version, the jinni gets trapped, in the book of the game, the jinni stays freed.

Kaeya: He said to the Jinni, "Wait, how could your massive body fit inside such a small bottle? I won't ever believe it unless I see with my own eyes!" The Jinni became angry, and said, "Mwahaha. Foolish boy, you dare question my powers!?" The Jinni then returned inside the bottle and the boy swiftly sealed it shut.

The Shepard and the Jinni The young man hesitated for a moment, and asked the last question. "What's it like to live in a bottle?" Seemingly having never heard of such a question before, the spirit was slightly surprised before she answered slowly.

strangely enough, it's not the first time kaeya has been connected to lamps. in the furniture description for Trusty Portable Lamp he went around telling children that the souls of fireflies are trapped inside lamps.

No thanks to the Cavalry Captain's jests, a rather morbid children's tale exists in Mondstadt concerning these lamps. The nuns have had to explain to the kids that no, these lanterns do not contain the imprisoned souls of fireflies.

furthermore, his ascension material is The Spirit Locket of Boreas. probably just another coincidence but nothing can ever be taken for granted when it involves this guy. perhaps all of these strange associations with imprisoned spirits is foreshadowing something bigger, who knows.

still, in the context of his hangout, kaeya's gift being a lamp is actually pretty random compared to gifts of other companions.

so i started thinking, the play and the intaglio showed us his ties to the alberich clan while the other routes showed his ties to mondstadt so it stands to reason that we should have hints towards the unknown maternal side of his family right? could this be the lamp?

before we dive into crack territory let me explain what the jinn are first. they're spirits born from night-blue water lilies that were nourished by nabu malikata's blood. jinn can take the appearance of blobs like dori's spirit or that of humans, and they can even reproduce with them as seen with everyone's most behated lamp, liloupar.

we have no idea how kaeya seemingly dodged the curse but what if he was blessed by a jinni? maybe someone made a contract with a jinni and this is how he's able to age normally. it could even be connected to his lucky coin that can land on any side he wishes. if guoba can be a stove god, it's not too far-fetched to think the coin could house some kind of spirit.

Kaeya: Of course, this whole arrangement hinges on a preexisting amount of trust between the two of us. I can't just get any strange coins to listen to me.

also, liloupar said something interesting about jinn being able to take someone's pain away from them:

Jeht: Can Jinn feel pain too? Liloupar: The Jinn have little need for a vessel, and even less need for senses. But should we begin to connect with others… Then we will take from them their pain… Even should we not comprehend the source of it.

who knows, perhaps this could even extend to a curse.

moving on to the good stuff:

these tcg cards show an unknown woman wearing the Vourukasha's Glow artifact set that is associated with nabu malikata. her outfit resembles nilou's outfit, which is modeled after nabu malikata's, but is noticeably lacking the horns nabu malikata was said to have.

the description for this card is Scions of Khvarena, which means that this lady is most likely just a follower or heir of nabu malikata.

(however, columbina, who is very likely to be a seelie survivor like nabu malikata, has bits of dark pink hair and is also lacking the horns, meaning we can't exactly determine that this woman isn't nabu malikata.)

in any case, the loading screen for khvarena is also called Scions of the Khvarena and it tells us something interesting: that khvarena can dwell inside humans.

Scions of the Khvarena Thanks to the nourishment of the Amrita, the Khvarena split apart to manifest countless forms. Some can find themselves dwelling within individual humans, while others might develop an awareness of their own…

khvarena are spirits that can purify abyssal corruption. they were created by nabu malikata. another interesting bit of trivia is that khvarena used to be localized as Soul Light.

taking a gander here but what if this lady and other human heirs of the khvarena are people who have the khvarena inside of them? i have actually speculated about this before that kaeya's mother might have had khvarena inside of her which ended up neutralizing or suppressing kaeya's curse.

you see, khvarena can reverse the effects of the abyss. and it was said that the oasis could cure all ills. though i should add, it probably isn't very effective on khaenri'ahns who are already cursed, as we've seen with dainsleif who was actually there recovering at the amrita pool but is still zombified.

(khvarena is green energy, and what i found curious is that the lamp kaeya gives you actually emits green smoke when you touch it. kaeya's favorite drink is death after noon, which is green due to the absinthe within. in literature, absinthe is known as The Green Fairy...)

to me, the most intriguing part is that khvarena is based on khvarenah, the divine royal glory.

Khvarenah is an Avestan word for a Zoroastrian concept literally denoting "glory" or "splendour" but understood as a divine mystical force or power projected upon and aiding the appointed. The neuter noun thus also connotes "(divine) royal glory", reflecting the perceived divine empowerment of kings. The term also carries a secondary meaning of "(good) fortune"; those who possess it are able to complete their mission or function.

when you read this, does it not remind you of kaeya's character? we all know by now that kaeya is associated with nobility/royalty, and good fortune (with his lucky coin and some of his dialogue).

Mona: Kaeya Alberich? He's a Pavo Ocellus. Destined for greatness and grandeur… and to hide ugly realities behind a layer of charm and elegance. He believes he has made a clean break with his past, but one day fate will catch up with him. When it does, he will have a major decision to make.

we don't know what kaeya's name is derived from, but it could be from the legendary Kayanians, who were also said to possess khvarenah!

anyway, back to the scions, i think it's possible that the following tribes are the scions of khvarena.

The matriarchs of the Tanit, Uzza, Shimti, and other tribes besides all refer to themselves as "Daughters of the Flower Goddess."

the Flower Goddess is nabu malikata who also calls the khvarena daughter of flowers, meaning these tribes are very likely to be the scions.

"My Khvarena, daughter of flowers…"

and like the lady on the card, matriarch babel of the tanit tribe has light pink hair.

(though, as a reminder, unbeknownst to her, babel was not actually born into the tanit tribe so we can't use her as a reference as she most likely did not have the blessing of khvarena, which is what i suspect is the reason she had to use poor JEHT.)

unfortunately, there's zero information about the other two tribes but shimti caught my eye here.

Ashima was a West Semitic goddess of fate related to the Akkadian goddess Shimti ("fate"), who was a goddess in her own right but also a title of other goddesses such as Damkina and Ishtar. 

shimti means fate!!!

FATE!!

mysterious lamp of fate ordained!!!!

peacock accessories, gold accents and dead mom sidebraid!!!!

Traveler: I never knew you could inherit eye patches. Kaeya: My! (Traveler), how could you not know such common knowledge! This is no different from children inheriting their hairstyle from their parents!

kaeya last name shimti REAL you heard it here first-

ok you can laugh now but wouldn't it be nice if kaeya's mom turned out to be a pretty pink haired lady who is a descendent of nabu malikata? i think it would be nice 😌.

[newtonsheffield]

LOVED the update! Is Anthony going to be able to accept that Kate really loves him and wants to be with him? Is Kate going to be able to accept the same from him come to think of it??

Yeah I think that’s more a struggle for Anthony than it is for Kate but she feels it as well.

Anthony worries if he doesn’t fix himself in time Kate’s going to get tired of standing in the supermarket with him, even with the frappes that she insists they both get to walk around the store, comparing brands until he eventually chooses one. He worries that it’ll bother her more than she lets on when he starts sweating because they don’t have the laundry detergent they usually buy, or the fact that the don’t have the brand of cheese he usually gets. But Kate always leans against the trolley, sipping her drink, her arm around his waist and smiles.

“Okay, let’s go through our options.”

“You can… go and… you can… you can look at something else you don’t have to stand with me.” Anthony says quickly, putting the fifth bottle of body wash back on the shelf.

“But we agreed, we’re changing body wash today because we’re practicing making no stress decisions.”

“I’m practicing.” Anthony mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Because of stupid therapy.”

Kate kissed his cheek, “Well, I want to help. And you picked a new drink today.”

“And I don’t like it. I might fuck up the body wash as well.”

“But you’re drinking it anyway.” Kate reached forward, “Ooo Plum and Blue Tansy. This one’s nice.”

Anthony smelled it hesitantly, “I don’t know.”

Kate sighed covering his eyes, leaning forward to whisper in his ear “Okay, let’s imagine we’re in the shower tonight, the hot water’s beating down on us and and you can feel me pressed against you. And I let out a little gasp of your name when your hands slide down my body. Anthony. I reach for the soap, so I can lather it on your chest and my fingernails scratch your chest and it smells like this.”

He breathed it in, the scent of the body wash and the anxiety washed away as his breath caught in his chest.

“Do you like it?”

Anthony took a shuddering breath as her hand slipped from his eyes and he snatched the bottle off her, throwing it in the cart. “Decision made! Let’s go!”

Kate laughed, skipping after him, “I told you; you might like trying new things.”

“All due respect babe but you seducing me in the shower isn’t new.”

[sarafinaparvez]

The Ultimate ˎˊ-

In this post I share every single step you'll need in order to create a proper skincare routine for both the day and nighttime; as well as extra tips for a variety of skin needs, while also bringing attention to certain steps that may just be optional and those that are necessary for everyone.

Starting with your daytime routine :

Step 1 “Cleanser” :

Cleansing the skin in the morning with a cleanser is *actually* not always necessary (though a good idea in some cases such as if you use hair oils/hair products at night and have acne prone skin) OR in the case of having a lot of residual skincare from the night before, that is sitting on the surface of the skin in the morning. Otherwise it's fine to just rinse the skin with water and pat dry.

Step 4 “SPF” :

The only “mandatory” skincare for the AM is adequate application of Sunscreen. No cleanser or moisturizer necessary (as mentioned above). When applying sunscreen however you want the spf to be able to absorb and penetrate the skin directly as chemical sunscreen filters need to touch the skin to be most effective (it absorbs UV and converts it into heat). This is also why if you do choose to use a moisturizer before sunscreen in the AM (Step 3) it’s best to use one that also contains spf or, pick a moisturizer that is highly absorbent (such as a water based moisturizer) compared to one that is highly occlusive; so that it’s not interfering with the sunscreen penetrating the skin. Reapply as often as needed especially if out doors or in contact with sun exposure (like indoor windows). Every 2 hours is suggested from day to evening.

As for Step 2: “Vitamin C“ :

Is also optional, and most dermatologists I have researched or spoke with generally say to “decide’ for yourself whether or not you want to add it in your routine. This is due to the fact that it’s quite difficult to “prove” the efficacy of the L ascorbic acid with aiding in sun protection and even skin tone complexation etc. (This is ingredient your looking for to get the benefits of what Vitamin C products claim to do on the skin). This questionability is due to various factors that contribute to the Vitamin C product being “stable” and effective. I myself am not currently using a Vitamin C product in my routine (but have in the past) and will update this page on my previous/new experiences when I do reintroduce it. I will recommend that you only purchase a Vitamin C that firstly has “L ascorbic acid as its main form of vehicle. (This is the most reliable stable form of Vit C) and, that you also purchase it from a ”Derm Brand” which may make it an expensive purchase. (More info below in my personal products and recommendations section of this page soon).

Other Tips and notes for skincare in the AM:

Avoid SPF sticks and sprays as they do not nearly have enough coverage to protect you from the sun and remember that makeup containing SPF (though better than makeup that doesn't) does not contain nearly the amount of “Sun Protection Factor” to protect your skin as a regular sunscreen lotion would typically. Although I love makeup I try not to wear it very regularly in the summer if not an event; just so that I can apply SPF instead. Also keeping hand sanitizer with you is a good way to disinfect your hands if you do not have access to a wash station/soap/water etc.

If your short on time in the morning just apply spf after rinsing the skin with water and/or take your spf bottle with you! Remember to keep your sunscreen out of hot cars, humid bathrooms or freezing environments to keep the product effective.

For the Nighttime :

If wearing eye makeup treat this as Step 1, and remove with micellar water first (or product of choice) and cotton pads. Hold cotton pad to eye for about 15 seconds minimum and swipe across gently back and forth to remove makeup. This avoids harsh tugging of the skin which may effect skin elasticity or cause irritation. I like to take an extra cotton pad after, fold it in half and drench the “outer fold” to remove makeup from the upper and lower lash line diligently. Ignoring this area can encourage old makeup to enter your eyes. The reason why I prefer having this step in routine, as opposed to just using the same cleanser or balm as I would my face to remove eye makeup is because it’s more thorough in removal, requires less effort and is less messy which makes me more inclined to do my skincare routine on time when I need to. (That’s important!) But if you don’t tend to wear a lot of heavy eye makeup that requires some effort to remove it’s definitely fine skipping this step.

1. Cleanse rest of the face from sunscreen/make up/lotion/daily dirt and grime as need be with any making removing oil or balm cleanser. Make sure to double/triple cleanse as needed. I will often use cotton pads and micellar water to remove my first layer of makeup just as I did with my eyes and then follow through will the oil/balm cleanser as the second step. If i’m not wearing makeup, I don’t use micellar water on my face and just my cleanser of choice once or twice.

2. Apply serum/hydrating product all over face, neck and eyes. I consider this “the supplementary skin step”, similar to taking a supplement, you can choose to add extra serums, toners, essences etc. to aid in extra hydration, or even introduce products that may address certain skin textural issues etc. There’s a boat load of products you can choose for this step but you will never go wrong with a hydrating serum or essence to give your skin a boost that will make a visible difference than just using your moisturizer alone. Some choose to layer multiple products in this step and if you do the thinnest is generally what you would use first. Overcomplicating this step is common; especially for skin care lovers which may lead to various issues such as irritation from too many products. I left more details on my skincare page in the section below where I touch of various products causing irritation if you want more direction or tips on how to choose the right type of serum/essence/toner for you based on the intended outcome you are trying to achieve.

3. Apply a small amount of eye retinol to the under eye area only.

4. Apply moisturizer all over face neck and eyes (lightly dab over the eye area too, where you placed the retinol (optional). Dabbing is important so you do not move around the eye retinol. Alternatively, you can use eye moisturizer first and eye retinol on top. I prefer the way around, as eye-retinols are quite gentle on my under eye area so I benefit from that direct retinol-to-skin contact.

5. Apply Tretinoin/other related product everywhere *except* the eye area (both the under eyes and lids). Be careful not to bring the tretinoin to close the eye area where you may have spread the eye retinol product out so that you are not layering multiple retinoids on top of one another. Use cautiously around sides of nose, chin and mouth as these area tend to be too sensitizing of a location for many people to tolerate the use of this product. Any area that has repetitive dryness or flakiness (long-term) past the initial “purging adjustment” stage is too sensitive to tolerate the product. Using tret/other in these areas may be causing inflammation of the skin or barrier damage.

*** Optional Step apply an extra layer of any simple occlusive face/body lotion over the entire face if you’d like to seal in the hydration (optional)- when implementing this step after retinol its considered the “sandwich method” (moisturizer, retinol, moisturizer) which some claim helps the skin better tolerate retinoids but I use just to help to keep the skin’s hydration sealed overnight; particularly in the winter season when my room is blasting hot air throughout the night. I also found it helped when I was previously on 0.05 tret (a concentration that I felt was a bit too sensitizing for me at the start).

6. Always remember chap stick & Vaseline for the lips. Any petroleum jelly product ontop of chap stick of choice can be applied for extra protection. Petroleum jelly is optional but the chap stick is recommended.

Other tips and notes for skincare in the PM :

If you find a night in which you are tired before bed just cleanse and moisturize. This is the only mandatory step of your nighttime routine as the skin regenerates and “builds” itself during sleep and simply needs to be kept clean and protected. Just as failure to not address adequate sun protection in the morning with lead to premature aging and other potential complications- so will not sleeping with a clean face at night; so both steps need to be done committedly. Even if you chose not to wear sunscreen in the daytime (though I doubt someone taking that option is reading this page) washing your face at night is a basic hygiene practice if anything just as taking a shower is. So don’t be disgusting. 😂

In essence, products that will makeup your routine include :

* Moisturizer

* Cleanser that can remove makeup & be gentle on your skin

* Eye makeup remover (if you need it)

* “Hydrator” (essence/ampule/serum etc.)

* Night Active for FACE (Retinol/Retinoid/Tretinoin/Vitamin A derivative of choice etc.)

* Night Active for EYES (Retinol/Retinoid/Tretinoin/Vitamin A derivative of choice etc.)

* Lip Balm

* Lip SPF (non drying)

As mentioned above, for the entire detailed and thorough guide where I touch on :

My Favourite Products/Recommendations

Acne Prone Skin

Starting Retinol

Korean vs French vs Japanese products

Seasonal Skincare Tips + More!

Follow this link below to be Guided to my Skincare Site :

Please reblog, like, and share this post if you found it helpful at all 💖

Love, Sarafina