#how to prevent breakouts

[healthmonastery]

Defeating Bacne: Say Goodbye to Back Acne and Achieve Clear Skin!

Hey there, lovely readers! Are you tired of your skin throwing a wild bacne party on your back? Well, fret not, because we’re about to dive into the world of bacne and bring you the ultimate guide to kicking those pesky pimples to the curb! Say goodbye to the struggle and hello to radiant, clear skin – it’s time to unmask the culprit and explore some game-changing treatment options. Bacne…

[retroellie]

The Other Woman

Summary: After seeing Lila kiss spencer in the pool, all reason leaves your body and creates a jealous mess inside your head. You can thing of only one way to dull the ache of jealousy.

A/N: This lowkey sucks but it's whatever :) I'm so unmotivated and my writers block is terrible omfg. I hope y'all enjoy though <3

Warnings: NSFW, cheating(ish), L*la, Mommy kink, face sitting, unprotected sex, unexperienced spencer, normal Criminal Minds stuff

Word count: 7.6K

Of course, you knew you were acting like a teenage girl, the petty silent treatment was straight of a high school romance. Reid was just trying to do his job, he was told to do something, and he did it. So, you shouldn't be angry. He was trying to prevent another victim; he was trying to protect Lila. Fucking Lila. If it were anyone else, then maybe you would just be able to forget it, but it wasn't someone else. It was her. It was hot blonde, breakout movie star Lila. Her and her perfect body, pretty face, long legs, her beautiful smile, and her money. She was everything a man could want, so what stopped Reid from wanting it too?

It made you uncomfortable in the first place, him being the one to stay with her. You asked Gideon if maybe Elle could do it or even Hotch, but he said since Lila and Spencer were somewhat friends, it would make her more comfortable. But what about you? What about your comfort? You decided to leave your pettiness out of your work, keep your jealousy to yourself, and catch the stalker so you could get out of here, go back to your stupid life with Reid.

You were already feeling sick enough about the entire thing, she could steal Reid from you in a heartbeat and all you could do was let her... But seeing him in the pool with her, her only in a bathing suit and him soaking wet. It played with your heartstrings, wondering everything that could've happened. Spencer couldn't look you in the eye, even after you asked him if he was okay. He just let out a small hum, looking down at his gun while he tried to dry it off. You knew something had happened; did you even want to know? You asked yourself.

You had no choice since Morgan shoved the camera in your face. The pictures of Lila and Spencer, her lips on his. 'Of course, she looked pretty when she hungrily made out with someone' you thought, rolling your eyes mentally. Spencer just watched your face, as it contorted into an unknown expression to him. He was a profiler, yet he could never read you...you were completely foreign to him. It intrigued him when he first met you, it frustrated him. Spencer Reid was a genius, he knew everything. So, him not knowing your brain frustrated him. That's exactly why he fell in love with you, he had to work to understand you and he ended up falling in love with you trying to figure you out.

Spencer opened his mouth to explain himself, but you dismissed it by explaining how you didn't think that the man who took the photos was the unsub. You explain how "he was too cocky and too visible; the unsub would have been more careful than the trespassing paparazzi." You did have a new lead however and you didn't hesitate before you ran off to go follow it. You just wanted to get away from Spencer, you needed to be away from him. You should have heard him out, you would've heard him out but as said before... It was Lila. Girls like her always got what they wanted; they didn't even have to fight for it either. So, you knew how this went, Spencer would leave you for her and you would have to work with him for the rest of your life knowing... you allowed him to be stolen.

You eventually caught the unsub, well Spencer did. It was one of Lila's friends, Maggie. She was desperately in love with Lila but Lila wasn't in love with her back, she killed her victims to show her love for Lila. You somehow understood how she felt as fucked up as it sounds. You understand why people kill for the people they love, how they would do anything just for the person they love. You could see yourself doing that for Spencer, it scared you of what you were willing to do for him. After Maggie had been caught, Hotch told the team to meet back at the local police departments to make their reports. However, you headed back to the hotel, stating that you had fallen sick to Hotch. Obviously hotch knew, he wasn't stupid and he didn't need to be a profiler to know what you were feeling. You were hurt.

So here you are now, in your hotel room... alone. You were writing your reports for other cases, completely neglecting the Lila case. In the state you were in, you couldn't even think of a blonde woman without the heartbreak sensation creeping up again. You hoped to do other cases, the most gruesome cases... The cases with blood and guts would help make that feeling go away or at least dissolve the lump in your throat. You felt like you were 16 again, watching as your prom date went into the bathroom with the popular girl. Your stomach sank as you saw him holding onto her hand, leading him into the biggest stall... all you could do was watch. You suddenly felt every stitch of your dress, all your organs working together, every light molecule on your skin. It was hell.

You were pulled out of your thoughts by a knock at your door, your heart dropping as it did. You would think of years of profiling psychopaths, you would be able to handle a knock at the door. For some reason that knock was the scariest thing to you. You sighed softly, putting the paperwork that was sprawled out on the hotel bed to the side and throwing yourself over the side of the bed. You walked to the door, the cold air of the hotel room making you shiver. Your hand touched the cold doorknob, pulling the door open and seeing a figure. Your eyes adjusted and soon you were met with his brown ones.

"Hi..." He said, giving you a soft smile.

"Hi." You said coldly.

It was an awkward encounter for sure, something that happens often but it's more comfortable than this. As of now, all you could think about was Spencer's face smashed up against hers. You were now hyper-aware of everything around you, feeling as though you could hear the colors making up the room. Spencer just stood there, hands in his pockets and giving you that strange grin.

"You weren't at the police station... Hotch told me you were feeling sick." He started, trying to pick up a conversation but for the first time since you met Spencer Reid... he was at a loss for words.

You nodded, confirming Hotch's statement. You could tell what he wanted to ask, so desperately. You were a profiler, you could tell by his fidgeting hand, his eye twitch, the way he couldn't make eye contact with you for more than 4 seconds... He was holding himself back. Spencer knew he did wrong, very wrong. Not only with you but professionally. You're not supposed to kiss a civilian you are told to keep watch on as a federal agent. It's inappropriate and wrong... but Reid could care less about that fact, the kiss meant nothing to him. He was more worried about you. You hadn't talked to him since you saw him in the pool with Lila, you didn't tell him you were going back to the hotel, you didn't even kiss him goodbye before you left Lilas. You bit your lip softly, playing with the flesh as you looked down at your feet.

"Uh yeah..." You started, looking back up at him. "Must have eaten something bad or something..."

Spencer didn't believe you, not for a second. He was never good with social cues but at this moment, he could read the situation better than anyone. However, Spencer has never been in a relationship before... you were his first everything. He'd never been exposed to the petty drama that comes with having a girlfriend, so he wasn't too sure how to go with this conversation. He knew he did wrong, but how does he go about communicating that with you? He doesn't want to make it seem like you're overreacting or you are stupid for being mad... damn, maybe he's overthinking it now. If Spencer Reid is good at anything though, it's statistics.

"You know..." He starts, about to go on one of his Reid rants. "Statistically, 58% of the time people don't actually have anything wrong with their stomach. Mostly it's more psychological than it is physical. Mostly caused by anxiety, guilt or anger."

You were used to these Reid rants at this point. Being with Spencer Reid for 2 years and knowing him for even longer, you have a lot of useless information in your brain that he has nonconsensually given you. You let that information sink into the part of your brain that you will most likely not return to, not even going to attempt to comprehend what number he had just given you. Your face automatically contorted itself into a look that said "Please shut up, leave me alone, and never perceive me again.".

"You think I'm lying?" You ask, not sure whether you're actually offended or it's because you can't get the picture of her kissing him out of your head.

It wasn't Spencer's intention to make you upset, no... that's not why he came here. He just knew that it was deeper than a stomach ache, he knew that your mind was going wild with possibilities and him knowing you, he knew you wouldn't say anything about it. Spencer knew why you did the work you did, he knew you couldn't solve your own problems so you decided to solve others. That's why Spencer didn't wait for you to come to him because he knew you never would. Spencer shook his head eagerly.

"No! no... of course not." He blurted out, looking everywhere but your eyes. "I'm just saying that i think the stomach ache your feeling isn't really a stomach ache... maybe it has something to do with the thing that happened with me and Lila."

The sound of her name sliding off his tongue sounded so frictionless... so effortless. It made you wonder if your name sounded the same, suddenly you forgot what your name sounded like coming out of his mouth. You shook that feeling off real quick, hoping if you pushed it down far enough it would simply go away. You weren't stupid though, you knew what pushing things down would do. It would turn you into something not human, or maybe something that is between a human and something else... it would turn you into Maggie or maybe even the hundreds of people you catch a year. It's funny how you can figure out another person's shit so fast, yet you are still wondering what your shit even is.

You sigh softly, rolling your eyes as you step away from the door and making your way to the small hotel "kitchen". The only thing the kitchen was good for was making coffee or tea, something that you have been living on for the past couple of years. You've found yourself purposely making it bad, the BAU will ruin you like that. You poured yourself some coffee, hearing Spencer walk in and shut the door behind him.

"Or maybe I just have a stomach ache." You say softly, putting the coffee pot back and then pouring pounds of sugar into your coffee. "Besides, it doesn't really matter anymore. The unsub was caught, Lilas safe... we did our job."

Spencer bites his lip nervously, watching you bring your coffee up to your lips and take a swig. As said before, Spencer isn't good with relationships or girls... or really anything that isn't statistics and books, so he isn't sure how to tell you that he is worried about you. He likes you, he'd probably go as far as to say he loves you and he doesn't want this to end. He knows that this will not end well, that your bottled-up emotions will be the end of your relationship. Spencer notices all the case reports scattered over your bed, seeing how you haven't even started on the most recent one... lilas.

"I read in one of my books about human relationships that most relationships end due to no com..." He starts, being interrupted by your tired, jealous self.

"Please, Spencer! enough with the statistics..." You spit, almost yelling... something you've never done to read. You turn to face him, coffee cup still in your hand, burning your skin. "Just spit out what you're trying to say to me."

Spencer gulps slightly, seeing how angry you've already become and you've only bottled this much hatred for less than a day. He knows you don't mean to yell, he knows it. He knows this job does this to a person, makes them angry... messes with their head until they are only a shell of themselves. Spencer adjusts himself, not sure what he is going to say but his plan is just to speak... hoping that the words will form as he does so. He licks his lips, taking in a breath and facing you finally.

"What happened between me and Lila..." He paused, gathering all the courage and breath he had left in this moment. "It meant nothing. I mean yeah we kissed, I mean she kissed me. I told her I had a girlfriend, multiple times. She still did it and I was shocked that I let it happen... but I felt nothing. I swear. And I know you don't want to talk about it, it's uncomfortable and it hurts you too, but I want to talk about it because it hurts me when I think it hurts you. This job can take whatever it wants from me... but I can't live with myself if I let it take you from me." He rambles out.

His breath gets heavy, all the oxygen from his lungs being taken from that single rant. He could've gone on, he wanted to go on but the look on your face made him stop. You looked even more hurt... or did you look relieved... Spencer couldn't tell, you were too hard to read for him. You couldn't explain the feeling either, it was a mix of everything. It was a mix of guilt and content... but most importantly, lust. The ramble had your face heating up and your underwear dampening. You shouldn't be feeling this way at this moment, no... not when your poor boyfriend just poured his heart out to you. but the way his voice was whiny... the way he begged for you, the way his face was now flush... How could you not?

You set your coffee cup down, making your way over to his tall figure. His breathing stopped almost as he could feel your presence getting closer to him, he'd never felt this uneasy in your presence but in this moment, he was afraid of what your next move would be. You were now face to face with Spencer, looking up at him with doe eyes as you watched him nervously fidget with his bottom lip. This feeling you felt was not new, it was something you felt for Spencer when he did pretty much anything. The deep fire that sparked within your stomach was always there when around him, something you were able to control and others... Well, you had to strip him down right then. However, you had never felt this feeling be so potent, so overwhelmingly rich.

"You really mean it?" You said simply, wanting nothing more than to hear him say he wanted you more than you wanted him. Spencer cleared his throat, shifting on his feet as he nervously stood in front of you.

"Yes...I really mean it Y/N." He admitted, his voice laced with desperation. He just wanted his girlfriend, that's all he's ever wanted.

You grin softly, eyes slightly watering as you hear his confession. You knew that Spencer would do anything for you, anything. But hearing it... hearing it gave you a sudden power rush. It made your hands shake, complete dominance running through your body. Your grin caused Spencer to relax, knowing that maybe there was a chance you could forgive him. Your hand snaked its way up to his tie, playing with it. Spencer watched this action, and the sudden realization of how you were feeling crept up on his mind. You weren't the one for punishments, you believed sex should be something that is for praising the other... not punishing. However, the mere thought of you punishing Spencer made both of you weak in the knees.

"i want to believe you, Spence..." You spoke your voice slightly over a whisper. Your hands are still rubbing the soft fabric of his tie between your fingers, flicking your eyes back up to his. "But I can't when you're using that mouth to make excuses...."

You smile up at him innocently, as if you weren't teasing him. Spencer gulped down a whimper, your voice almost having him bust in his pants all ready. You yanked him down to your level by his tie, tugging on it roughly as you forced him to make eye contact with you. You took your free hand to push his hair back from his face, watching his tie rub roughly against his neck. You took your hand, leaving light touches all over his face... tracing every bump, every mole, every scar across his face. You thought he was the most beautiful man you'd ever seen, but so did Lila.

"What can I do..." He started, pausing his sentence as he basked in your soft touches. "to uh... to make you believe me?"

You let out a chuckle, your finger pulling down his lip and then letting it bounce back up. You bit your lip, trying to keep your dominant persona up, but something about the way he was so desperate to please you... the fire burned hotter deep within you.

"I can't tell you... guess you just have to know." You stated. You wanted to keep him on edge, make him more desperate than he already was.

Spencer moaned softly as your grip on his tie tightened, his air getting restricted now but he felt... oddly good. You two were new to having sex at this point, Spencer had just given his virginity to you not even 2 months ago. Yet you both have had sex so often that you both knew each other's bodies inside and out already. He didn't know what he liked or what he wanted, all he knew was he wanted you and only you for the rest of his existence. Spencer couldn't help himself anymore, he smashed his lips into yours. The kiss was full of desperation, his hands making their way into your hair, sometimes pulling but mostly he used it to keep you in place.

It was messy and very sloppy, it was like a normal makeout session for you. Spencer couldn't help himself but to be messy with you, he wanted so much of you that it made him claw at your skin. You didn't mind it, you let him explore your mouth with only his tongue because you fed on his desperation. Your hands made it up to his cheeks, pressing his mouth even closer to you. Your teeth clashed with his, tongues fighting with each other, squirming against each other. You both could have stayed like this for hours, probably coming undone just by kissing but you wanted more.

"Spencer..." You moaned out, pulling him away from you slightly. You looked up at him, the desperation in his eyes to keep going. His lips were kiss-bitten, his cheeks red and his eyes wet. He whimpered at the loss of your lips, breathing heavily as you examined his face. "Take off your clothes and get on the bed."

Your voice was demanding, causing Spencer to jump to what you wanted him to do. You watched him eagerly take off his shirt, his tie getting stuck and frustrating him. Then he worked his way down to his pants, taking off his shoes while he was at it. He left his boxers on, knowing that you would soon take them off anyway. He sat on the bed, waiting patiently for you, feeling your eyes bore into his skin. Spencer had a strange build, skinny and lanky but his muscles were defined. You would basically drool every time you saw it, the first time you ever saw him naked you swear you came just by the view.

"Good boy..." You said, walking over to him as he sat on the edge of the bed. You set yourself on his lap, straddling him as you watched his face turn redder than it already had been. "I have been so good to you haven't I Spencer?"

You sat down on his lap, feeling his cock rock hard against the inside of your thigh. You moved his hair from his face, his hair still reeked of chlorine which created another wave of deep jealousy. Spencer nodded rapidly, his words getting stuck into his throat as you watched his face for an answer. You grinned softly, nodding with him as he let out a little hum.

"Yeah..." You started, feeling his body shake with anticipation. You leaned down, leaving soft kisses along his cheeks as you ground down softly on him. "I let you cum when you want to, let you cum inside me, I suck your dick whenever and wherever I put up with your begging and call you a good boy..."

Spencer moans softly at your words, his hands making their way to your hips as he tries to grind you down harder on his cock. His senses are already being clouded with complete lust, his need to cum is at a peak already. You chuckle down at him, his pathetic moans already filling the room and you have not even started. You trail your kisses to his mouth, forcing the kiss to be softer this time but his lips want more.

"I mean even when I should have slammed the door in your face..." You snap your hips down harshly, watching him moan out loudly. "Here I am, still calling you a good boy."

Although Spencer's moans create a softness inside of you, wanting nothing more than to let him come undone as you praise him, the deep jealousy that has been lingering in the room is creating something inhumane inside of you. You wanted to make him cry, wanted to crave insults into his skin, wanted to push him to the brink, and then take it all away from him. It's how he made you feel, seeing him in that pool with someone like Lila. even if he didn't even mean to. You knew Spencer didn't want Lila to kiss him, part of you knew that and you wanted to slap her for even putting Spencer into that position. However, you could use this anger and jealousy in a good way, a punishment that would leave Spencer feeling like he went to heaven and back.

"y/n... god..." Spencer moaned out, grinding his hips up to meet yours. You grinned softly, moving your hand from his cheek down to his neck.

His neck was already slightly red from his tie, the soft bruise already peeking through. It looked down pretty on his skin, he looked so pretty broken down. You wrapped your hand softly around his neck, setting one last kiss to his lips before you slammed him down on the bed. He gasped softly, breathing heavily as your actions scared him. He was flat on his back now, looking up at you as you straddled his hips. You could feel him throb against your thigh, his cock wanting to free him.

You took the hand wrapped around his neck, trailing it down his chest, down his belly, down his happy trail, pulling his underwear down so only his cock could spring free. You tsked softly, looking down at him as he squirmed. His cock was flush red, dripping precum as it screamed to be touched. It never failed to amaze you just how flustered and hard you could make Dr. Spencer Reid, the genius, the boy wonder.... pretty boy. You weren't exactly what you would assume his type would be, not that you weren't attractive but completely different from Spencer Reid.

You two were like night and day, favoring different things yet being made for each other. Sometimes you would get insecure about it, especially when you two were very public about your relationship. How could someone who knew exactly what they were doing be with someone like you? You thought, sometimes it kept you up at night. How someone like Spencer could be with you, how he could look at you and see only beauty. It freaked you out to say the least and maybe that's why the two of you were in the position in the first place, your insecurities getting the best of you.

"So needy already... I've barely touched you." You tease, biting your lip at the sight of him.

You set your hand on his cock, leaving feather-light touches to it as he squirmed more. You gripped it lazily, moving your hand up and down his cock. Your free hand began unbuttoning your dress pants, zipping them down, and yanking them off your body. You teased Spencer about being the eager one, but you couldn't handle much more of him not being inside you. Spencer threw his head back as you continued to stroke his cock at a slow pace, his eyes shut tight as he was already on the verge of cumming.

"That feel good honey?" You asked him, sure that he wasn't going to be able to answer you. "feels so warm... so wet..." You teased, drawing out your words to push his buttons even more.

You leaned down, hand still pumping his cock as you started leaving soft kissing along his neck, something you knew he loved dearly. Your hand movements were sloppy now, encouraging him to grind his hips into your hand. His thrusts were sporadic, no real rhythm as he was so clouded with the thought of cumming in your hand.

"Feel so... feel so good..." He moaned out, his mind not allowing him to think of a coherent sentence.

That was all you needed to know that he was close, that in the next seconds, he was going to make a mess out of your hand. You pumped him a few more times, watching as his body shook slightly. But then as his orgasm almost washed over him... you pulled your hand away. He whimpered softly, eyes filling with tears as his overstimulated and teased cock throbbed. Spencer had never felt this pathetic, just like you said, you let Spencer cum whenever he wanted to. So you helping him to the edge just to take it away in mere seconds, made this boy into a whiny mess. He would even go as far as to say you spoiled him, always allowing him to make his messes anywhere and everywhere.

"What... why.." He stuttered, not sure what to say but he felt he had been robbed of a mindblowing orgasm. His pouting made you smile, seeing how worked up and ashamed he had become.

"Awe, I'm so sorry baby..." You teased, kissing his neck softly as he desperately tried to feel for your lips with his. "But only good boys get to cum..."

Spencer bucked his hips up into nothing, his stolen orgasm making his stomach ache. Spencer would do anything, anything... just for you to let him cum. He would beg and plead for it, he would murder for it. The mere thought of Spencer willing to do anything just for your hand, sent your body into overdrive, the power rush taking over your own senses until it felt you could only be satisfied by seeing Spencer cry. Spencer huffed and puffed roughly as you continued to lay your kisses on his neck, knowing how weak it made him. His breathing was irregular and it felt as though with every struggling breath, his air was being stolen from him.

"Fuck... please..." He whimpered out, his hands reaching up to your hips once more trying to grind your body against the aching cock. "I'm sorry okay... fuck... I'm so sorry, I'll do anything... I'll be such a good boy for you, just please... fuck please Mommy!"

The word stumped you and took you completely off guard. Spencer was very new to sex and you were new to sex with him, but Mommy?!? You would've never guessed Spencer Reid would have a mommy kink, you should've known simply because it was clear. Spencer Reid has mommy issues, so seeing you as dominant during sex was basically a given, you're a profiler for god sake. You stopped your soft kisses on his neck, bringing your head up to see his horrified reaction to his words.

He was taken aback as well, those words feeling so wrong coming out of his mouth but yet so arousing to him. He always felt the need to hold back the word when you guys had sex, out of fear and him being ashamed. He knew he was safe with you, but something about a grown man calling his lover mommy felt inappropriate to him. It might be his denial or him being sexually insecure, but it just felt weird to him so the only word on his tongue at that moment was "sorry". little did he know though, the word slipping from his mouth did wonders on you. Your face heated up, your cunt wetter than ever, and your urge to cum at a peak.

"I'm so sorry... that was really weird, I'm so..." He started but was rudely interrupted by a very annoyed you.

"Spencer... it's fine, you worry too much." You giggled, trying to reassure him that you were more than okay with his surprising kink. You leaned down once more, pecking his lips with yours to hopefully put him at ease. He eagerly kissed you back, once again pulling you into a sloppy kiss. "How about you show Mommy what you can do with that mouth huh?" You said in between kisses.

Spencer let out a shaky breath, the possibility of how this night would end filling his brain. The shame he felt now was turning into something else, something enjoyable as you teased him about it. He nodded his head, agreeing to whatever you wanted him to do. You smirked, pulling your panties to the side and climbing up his body. Spencer wasn't sure what you were doing, never having been in this position before but his confusion was taken over by pure hunger when being face to face with your cunt.

"If it gets too much or you want to stop, tell me, okay honey?" You stated, looking down at him, his face already slick with your juices. He nodded, looking up at you with eyes that begged you to sit on his face.

You nodded back, getting yourself comfortable before lowering yourself down onto Spencer's face. He knew what to do almost immediately, licking your clit and nuzzling his nose straight into your cunt. Like everything Spencer when it came to sex, it was sloppy and eager. There was no real pace, just Spencer going crazy on your cunt. You couldn't help but rock your hips back and forth slightly, completely forgetting how good Spencer's tongue felt.

Spencer eating you out was no new thing, it happened quite often. He preferred when you two would use your tongues and fingers to pleasure each other. It felt more intimate to him and if he was being completely honest, he felt he was better with them than he was with his dick. He felt he had more control over you when he used his tongue, not to mention when you would touch him he would quite literally forget everything especially how to move his body. So eating you out made him feel more in control and in a career where he was always fighting for control, it was a nice change. Although this position you were in now, sitting on his face, was foreign to him, but he liked it.

You were starting to feel that coil inside you tighten, the sign that you were about to cum all over his face. You gripped the sheets, now moving your hips roughly to the movements of his tongue. Spencer had started sucking softly on your clit before teasing your opening with his tongue, he couldn't pick which he wanted to do so he tried to do both. For a minute there Spencer forgot he even had hands, his mind only on lapping at your cunt and tasting your juices flowing down his tongue.

"Spencer... fuck..." You moaned out, throwing your head back as you tried your best to stay upright. "remember your hands..." You directed him.

Spencer mentally scolded himself for that, knowing that in the past you scolded him for not using his hands. Spencer couldn't help it though, he wanted to taste all of you and his hands were the last thing he was worried about. Spencer brought one of his hands up to meet your cunt, digging his fingers into you. The feeling of his fingers exploring inside you had you grabbing at his hair, holding his face in place as you bucked your hips onto his fingers. Your movements only egged Spencer on, his fingers curling up to feel for your g-stop and his mouth latching onto your clit.

You were now the one who was a whimpering mess, curses fell from your lips and your hips forced themselves down onto Spencer. You were close, feeling that the coil became more tight as your back arched. Your thighs began to shake, your vision blurry as Spencer finally found your g-spot. It only took him only 3 curls of his fingers before that coil snapped.

"FUCK!" You screamed out, not surprised if the hotel heard you.

Spencer licked and pumped you through your orgasm, something you taught him how to do. You can remember the first time he had ever eaten you out, as soon as your cunt oozed out your juices... Spencer got scared that he had done something wrong, completely stopping his movements and cutting your orgasm short. You taught him that it was a good sign and what he should do while it was happening. You were proud to say that you taught Spencer right, you were the one who taught him how to please a woman... Can Lila say the same?

You hunched over on top of Spencer, shaking slightly as you recovered from your orgasm. Spencer slid his fingers out of you, placing them in his mouth as he licked them clean. You watched as he did, the sight alone creating a new wave of horniness over your body. He wanted every little speck of you, wanting to taste everything you had and he would gladly enjoy it. You shifted yourself down Spencer's body, once again straddling his hips.

"Was I a good mommy?" He asked innocently, his voice almost a whimper. He looked innocent as ever, even with his face soaked with your cum, he just looked so heavenly. You placed your hand on his cheek, wiping off the mess you had created.

"So good my love..." You whispered, watching his face turn a bright red once more. The words "my love" echoing in his ears, making his cock throb more. "How about mommy take care of you now huh?"

Your words rushed straight to Spencer's cock, forcing himself not to cum just from your words. Spencer nodded, breathing heavily as you pecked his lips with yours. You could taste your own cum on his lips along with spencers cherry chapstick that he always seems to be wearing. You let Spencer explore your mouth once more, taking what he needed from you as you once again wrapped your hand around his cock and lined it up with yourself. Spencer bucked up to meet your hips, being the greedy little bastard he was and wanting to thrust himself into you. You chuckled at his neediness but gave into his wishes, slowly setting yourself down onto him.

"Fuc..." Spencer whined out, throwing his head back in bliss.

You didn't know what happened at first, thinking that maybe Spencer was just that excited to be inside you once again. Then you felt it, his hot cum coating your walls already. You hadn't even put him all inside you and he had already come. Spencer's face contorted into pure pleasure, nails digging into your hips as he drenched your insides with cum. He was too in the clouds to realize what he had just done, it hit him too suddenly and way too hard for him to think. but eventually, he came down and sudden embarrassment ran cold through his body.

"Shit... I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to. It's just h..." He started, rapidly trying to apologize for cumming so early even if it wasn't under his control. His apologies got cut off by you fully sitting down on his cock, his cock now nestled deep inside of you.

Spencer once again through his head back, his words fading into whimpers and whining. You smiled at his reaction, your cunt feeling his dick get hard once more. Spencer never knew that he would be in this position tonight or really ever. He never knew in a hundred years he would be deep inside his coworker, a babbling mess underneath her, and basically prematurely ejaculate inside of her. but somehow this is where Spencer feels he wants to be, maybe not the cumming so soon part but being underneath you.

"No need to apologize Spence..." You moan out, shifting your hips slightly. You bring your hands up to your shirt and slowly work your way down the buttons. "You deserved to cum in mommy, you did so good with your mouth."

You yank your shirt off, revealing your black lacy bra Spencer had bought you days before. Spencer's breath hitched, his memory of buying that in the first place coming back. He was at the store, buying whatever he needed for that night when he accidentally stumbled into the women's undergarments section. He attempted to cover his eyes, but for some reason, they kept landing on the black lacy bra you had right now. It was embarrassing for him to be buying it, going to the checkout, and praying the cashier didn't even think twice about it, it didn't help that the image of you in it had him rock hard.

You bucked your hips softly, feeling every single inch of Spencer nuzzling inside of you. You watched his eyes, seeing how they planted on your boobs. You chuckled softly, reaching your hands to him that were sitting on your hips and bringing them up. You placed his hands on your breast, knowing that Spencer would be too shy to do it himself. You held his hands there, feeling his hands squeeze them gently as you did.

"I wanna..." You start, being interrupted by a soft moan that escapes your mouth as Spencer starts to thrust his hips up to meet yours. "I wanna make you do it again... i want you to cum in me again..."

That is all Spencer needed to hear, his stomach already creating a tight coil that could break at any moment. Your thrust was starting to pick up, his cock being pulled almost completely out of you before you slammed your hips back down to push him all the way into you. With Spencer's cock deep inside you and his hands squeezing your tits roughly, you felt you had died and went straight to heaven, or was this hell? Because you doubted you could find sex like this in heaven, this was dirty and sinful. The curses dripping from each of your mouths and spencers moans that sounded like something straight of a porno filled the room and most likely the entire floor of the hotel.

You couldn't hold yourself up anymore, hunching over Spencer as your hips continued to thrust roughly. Spencer moved his hands back to your hips for the hundredth time tonight, helping you thrust his cock inside of you. You were both overstimulated, your clit sending shocks of electricity through your body every time it made contact with Spencer's lower stomach. The coil inside you threatened to burst, frustration filled you as you tried desperately to bust it open and make more of a mess than it already had been. You reached down in between your legs, rubbing the small bud and sending lightning through your body.

"Fuck... gonna cum...gonna cum on your cock..." You moaned out, stuttering every time Spencer's cock filled you up.

Spencer took that as a sign to thrust harder back into you, moving his hips up and forcing your hips down. You were on the edge, every single inch of your body on fire as you fucked yourself onto Spencer. and with one single hard, deep thrust from Spencer... the coil in you snapped once again. You shoved your face into the sheet next to Spencer's head, screaming into them as you came all over Spencer's cock. You felt this feeling couldn't get any better until you felt Spencer's hot cum flow through you once again.

You were too in your own world to even hear Spencer's loud scream/moan he did as he came deep inside you, you both being thrown out of your own bodies as you came. Your juices flow together to make one big mess out of the sheets, something that will be embarrassing for the housekeepers to clean in the morning. You both laid there for a minute, basking in each other's warmth and feeling spencers cum seep out of your cunt.

It was strange to you, how you would much rather Spencer's cum dripping out of you than... well anything in life. You weren't exactly the most sex-driven person, but at this moment you knew why some people were. Spencer somehow got into your head, planting himself into it and keeping it hostage. With that being said, you couldn't stay mad at Spencer, you honestly completely forgot why you had been pushing him in the first place. The name Lila is so far away from your thoughts, that you don't actually care anymore.

You slid Spencer out of you with a wince, flopping down next to him as he came down from his high. You shifted to your side so you could watch his pretty face, his eyes fluttering open, his mouth trying to steal whatever air he could get... He looked blissful. You felt oddly proud about it, knowing that you were the one to do that. However, through the pride, you felt a deep guilt. Spencer was the kindest boy you have ever met, he chose you to give his heart to. Yet you were upset with him because he kissed another girl? No, he didn't kiss her... she kissed him. You felt petty now, the regret of ever questioning Spencer's loyalty mended into your brain.

"I'm not mad at you, you know?" You're tired, worn-out voice making it sound like a whisper. Spencer sighed softly, clear that he had forgotten as well and now he's remembered it all again. "It's just...seeing her with you, it just brought me back to high school you know? It made me feel how I did when fucking Rachel Clark tongue fucked my prom date..." You let out a soft sigh, playing with Spencer's hair as you talked.

"You know it's normal to feel that way, especially when you had a similar experience," Spencer explains, going on another one of his Reid rants. "And well, anyone would feel like that whether you had a similar experience with it or not. I know I would." Spencer's eyes wandered to the ceiling, closing his eyes due to utter exhaustion.

You couldn't imagine Spencer Reid ever getting jealous, he was always so calm about everything. You wondered what it would look like. Would he pin you to the bed and fuck the shit out of you like you did him or would he just not know how to deal with those emotions. You honestly wouldn't want to put him into a situation where he would feel that, you couldn't do that to little Spencer. He was innocent, as if the world had not touched him yet even if he does look at the dark underbelly of humans every single day.

"Yeah... well you won't ever have to worry about that my love." You said softly, cuddling yourself further into his side as you closed your eyes as well. "You're stuck with me..."

Spencer chuckled softly, at complete peace that he was stuck with you. If you were the person he was stuck with for the rest of his life, he would die a happy man. You two didn't even bother wrapping up in the blankets, you just needed each other's warmth as you lulled each other to sleep. The presence of jealousy and anger nowhere to be seen, maybe y'all didn't talk it out tonight but you sure did fuck and made up. You wouldn't have it any other way. 

[elonomhblog]

how to properly wash your face

this post is a bit of a spinoff from my last post, 'how you can reduce acne'. read it here.

now, properly washing your face has many benefits, such as:

removing buildup washing your face clears away dirt, oil and other unwanted debris, preventing clogged pores and acne breakouts.

boosting hydration regular cleansing can help to maintain proper hydration levels, which keeps the skin smooth.

maintaining clear skin it helps to manage the production of sebum and supports proper pore size, contributing to clearer skin.

enhancing the effectiveness of products clean skin allows for better absorption of skincare products like moisturizers and treatments.

promoting healthy skin by removing impurities and maintaining hydration, face washing contributes to overall skin health.

here's some steps, how to properly wash your face:

start by removing any makeup with a gentle makeup remover or micellar water. it's important to remove makeup because clean skin absorbs skincare products better, making them more effective. never, and i repeat NEVER wear makeup to bed. this will lead to breakouts and acne. your skin needs time to breathe.

2. wet your face with warm water. using hot water can strip your skin of natural oils and cold water isn't as effective at cleaning.

3. use a gentle, non-abrasive cleanser suitable for your skin type and apply it to your face in a circular motion. make sure to be gentle. avoid scrubbing your skin harshly as this can cause irritation.

4. rinse off the cleanser completely with warm water.

5. pat your face dry with a clean towel. i use a face washer (which is like a tiny, thin towel) and change it every 2-3 uses. do not rub when you are drying your face, as this can irritate the skin.

6. apply a moisturizer suitable for your skin type to keep your skin hydrated. personally, i only use moisturizer in the mornings, mixing it with my sunscreen. at nighttime, i prefer to just wash my face and if i have pimples, i will apply a spot treatment.

(images are from pinterest)

[words-4u]

right person (2/3)

pairing: luca x reader

wc: 3.3k

a/n: part two is hereee! i took the conversation that marcus and luca had while chopping/folding dough and revamped it for this fic <3 hope yall like it

warnings: 18+ SMUT, swearing

part 1 / part 3

as it turns out making shiso gelee wasn't as complicated as it sounds but it also helped massively that chef luca is always near to correct any mistakes.

the kitchen is silent besides the sounds of pots and smacking of dough from marcus' station.

luca is drying some tupperware at the table behind you while you whisk some liquid gelatin.

"that's a little bit too thick," he says peering over. "so just add some more pineapple juice."

you caught a whiff of his aftershave which made you want to lose your mind. "yes, chef."

doing as he instructed, you add more juice. "just to know for the future, can i ask why?"

he glances at you before going back to his task at hand. "uh, the thicker it is, the stronger it is. so too thick and it overpowers the other components."

"good to know... and what do you serve this with exactly?"

"uh, we do that with a thin slice of marzipan and a caramel cracker," luca answers.

"damn, that sounds good," you say.

"yeah, it's a nice dish," he comes over to your side and puts away some freshly dried containers.

"uh you're good to go on your break, by the way. we can pick this up in 15,"

"are you sure?"

"yes. the gel needs to set anyways."

"thank you, chef," you smile and make your way to an area behind the restaurant for a smoke break. lucky for you, that area had a nice wooden bench. you take a seat and place a cigarette between your lips, lighting it.

taking your first drag, you shut your eyes and lean your head against the exposed brick of the building.

"i, uh, i don't suppose i could use your lighter, chef," a voice asks. the accent is instantly recognizable.

"oh, sure," you go over to where he's standing and close the distance between you as you light his bud.

you stuff your lighter back into your pocket but don't return to the bench.

"y/n," you say after a few moments.

"sorry?"

"it's just, uh, when we aren't in the kitchen, you can call me y/n,"

he nods.

"so tell me y/n," he says. "how do you like you copenhagen so far?"

"well, considering i've been in the city less than 48 hours, i have no complaints. the scenery is beautiful. food is pretty good and the people..." you look up at him. "i'm still getting to know the people."

he holds your gaze before letting out a cloud of smoke. "hmm."

if you didn't think there was a weird tension between you earlier, you definitely feel it now.

“if you, uh, ever want a proper tour, let me know,” luca says.

it takes everything you have to not breakout into a massive smile. “thanks, chef.”

“outside the kitchen, luca,”

this time you nod. “luca.”

he clears throat and steps on his cigarette. “well, we’d better get back inside and check on the gelee,”

“of course, how could we forget about the gelee,” you say following him back in and you swear you hear him chuckle.

when you got back to your station, you began blanching some large green leaves first by boiling it in hot water and then immediately dumping it in a metal bowl filled with ice water so it doesn't lose its colour.

luca took the metal bowl and brought it to the table behind you where the blender was. he takes a clump of the leaves and then adds water.

"start off low," luca says as he turns on the blender.

the loud noise jolts you a bit.

"you can see the colour change," he says as you move closer. "you see it starting to get brighter?"

"gorgeous colour," you say.

"yeah, it is."

luca pours the green liquid into a sifter and hands you the purified liquid.

he watches as you pour the liquid into a new bowl and asks you to to bloom the gelatin with the cold green liquid to prevent potential clumps.

the second half of your shift flew by because before you knew it, it was time to clock out of the day.

in the change room, you removed your apron and since you were alone you removed your shirt as well quickly sliding on the grey sweatshirt you came with.

just as you brought your sweatshirt down, luca walked in and stood at his locker across from you.

turning your head slightly to peek at him, you caught him pulling off his shirt and since his back was turned towards you, he couldn't see you drinking in the sight of him.

you turned back around and pressed your lips.

"uh, luca," you say.

"yeah?" he says.

"about that, uh, personal tour? is now a good time?" you slowly turn his way.

he cracked the faintest smile. "sure. anywhere particular in mind?"

you shake your head. "wherever you wanna show me,"

"in that case, might i suggest some sustenance first? does coffee sound good?"

"coffee sounds fucking great," you sigh and follow him out the door and on to the sidewalk.

"there's this cafe that i love just up the road," he says.

walking alongside him, you take in your height difference. he's probably 6'2" to your 5'7" so it was perfect.

when you arrive at a hole-in-the-wall cafe, that had blue painted bricks and picture frames of happy looking folks. probably customers or family members.

"hi," luca says going up to the old woman behind the counter. "can i get a medium black coffee and...." he looks to you to say your coffee of choice.

"just a caramel latte please,"

"a caramel latte," he repeats "and two snegls please,"

you grab a table for the two of you near the window so you can people watch while luca gets your order. it's midday now and you watch as people in their own little lives pass by the window.

luca makes his way to you holding two coffee cups and clutching two bags of pastries.

"okay now can i ask what the hell a snegl is?" you say once he's seated.

"sure. it's cinnamon roll style pastry but shaped like a snails shell if that makes sense," he explains.

"so a cinnamon bun?"

he was going to refute your statement but upon seeing the look on your face, he concedes. "yeah, it's a cinnamon bun,"

you guys shard a small laugh.

"so long have you been a cook?" he asks taking a sip of his hot drink.

"about six years now. i went to university for psychology but didn't really feel like it was my thing," you answer.

"so you dropped out?"

"no. after all the hard work my parents did to raise me, dropping out, no matter how disengaged i was, was not an option. so i got that degree but i did tell them the truth. that my heart wasn't in it for that right reasons."

"so how did you fall into cooking?" luca sat up ready to hear your story.

"my dad taught me everything i know," you say a lump started to form in your throat. "i swear his favourite place besides his bed was the kitchen."

luca stayed silent and let you collect yourself. "he passed recently... but he was the best mentor i could have asked for."

"i'm sure he's proud," luca said with sincerity.

you give him a small smile.

"what about you?" you say ready to move on before you start crying in front of your hot co-worker. "how long have you been doing this?"

"uh, fourteen years now..."

"oh, so you started when you were three?" you ask deadpanned.

he chuckles. "close enough, yeah."

"and with that accent i'm guessing you're from london."

"you'd be correct. and you're from chicago?"

"born n raised," you confirm. "so did you go to culinary school?"

"i didn't. no. i didn't do too well in school. got in quite a bit of trouble. ditched the check. they caught me. made me wash dishes, and, uh, i loved it."

"wow, you might be the only person i know that loves washing dishes,"

he shrugs. "it gives me time to reflect."

"fair enough," you hold your hands up. "i can't argue with that."

"so, uh, you said your dad passed recently, but how recent? if you don't mind me asking?"

"no, not at all. i love talking about him," you say. "he died a little over a year ago and not gonna lie... i didn't handle it too well. it was sudden. in his sleep. so i had no chance to say goodbye and i think that's what still hurts more than anything."

you let a tear fall but quickly wiped it away. "i'm sorry."

"you never have to apologize to me. ever. and especially for crying," he hands you a tissue that came with the pastries.

"you're an only child?" he asks taking out a snegl and placing one in front of you.

"i have two brothers. and you?"

"uh, yeah. i have a younger sister somewhere... yeah,"

"somewhere?" you echo taking slow bites of your snegl.

he clears his throat. "half-sister, i have to clarify. my parents separated when i young and my mum quickly found someone new. then my sister came along and then one day... my mum just left. no goodbye or anything just a note saying she wanted to focus on herself... my step-dad got custody of my sister and well i was 18 by that time so i moved out and moved on."

you stay silent for a few seconds. you couldn't believe a mother could abandoned her kids like that, especially someone as great as luca.

"she's missing out... your mom."

"yeah," he sighs.

you were starting to see luca in a different light. after telling him your story and you his, all you wanted to do was hold him and hope to ease his pain and loss. but you couldn't do that so you opted for something safer. kind of...

"hey, want to come back to mine and i can cook us a meal or something?"

"you still wanna cook after today?"

"you can take the cook out of the kitchen, but you can’t take the kitchen out of the cook."

he laughs at that. "okay, let's go."

you and luca talk some more on the way to your place. he makes you laugh telling stories of his younger rugrat days in london and when you're talking, he hangs on to your every word.

"you... live on a boat?" he says when you arrive.

you look back opening the door. "cool, huh?"

"very."

you turn to luca as you place your bag on a hook at the front door. "can i get you anything?"

"water is fine," he says taking a seat the dining table. you get his water and tell him to make himself comfortable as you went up stairs to change into a t-shirt and loose jeans.

it's only when you make your way back down and see luca sitting at the table, that you've realized how small your space and intimate your living space was.

"what's on the menu for tonight, chef?" luca asks as he spots you coming down the steps.

"home made pizza, if your elegant taste buds can handle that?" you reply.

"i can never turn down a pizza,"

you got started on the dough and soon enough luca is by your side helping. what was supposed to be you cooking for him, turned to him taking over and doing all the work which you let him happily.

"how did you get good at this?" you ask as you finished with your slice.

he exhales. "honestly, i made a lot of mistakes."

"so that's the secret then? just fuck up?"

he smiles. "it might be, you know, fuck up."

"i think 'cause i started early, i got my skill set up really quick and then started to feel like i was really the best, you know, like at all these really good places. i really was the best cook. and then i started at this really great place as a commis. and this other chef started the same day as me, and..." he sighs.

"i thought we were competition, um, but really we weren't. he was better than me. much, much better than me. he worked harder and faster than i ever could. and it was the first time i realized that i wasn't the best," he confides.

"and i was never gonna be the best. so i started looking at it like it was a good thing. like, at least i knew who the best was now, and i could take that pressure off myself. and the only logical thing to do was to try and keep up with him. so i never left this guy's side."

"and you got better," you say.

"oh, i got better than i ever thought i possibly could be just from trying to keep up with him."

"that's incredible, honestly," you say putting the dirty dishes in the sink and hopping on the counter.

"thanks but i think at a certain stage it becomes less about skill and it's more about being open."

"open?" you echo.

"yeah. to-to the world, to yourself, to other people. you know, most of the incredible things that i've eaten haven't been because the skill level is exceptionally high or there's loads of mad fancy techniques. it's because it's been really inspired, you know." he says.

"i like that," you say softly.

"you can spend all the time in the world in the kitchen, but if you don't spend enough time out there..." he trails off but you understood what he meant.

"right," you nod.

luca lifts his gaze to you. "it helps to have good people around you, too."

"is what i am? good people?" you smile coyly.

he gets up and walks over to you, placing his hands on either side of the counter in front of you. "honestly? i really think so."

a few moments go by where luca just studies your face and you can feel your heart beating a million miles per hour.

"you are so fucking beautiful," he finally says. his voice barely above a whisper.

those words set your body aflame. you parted your lips and he leaned. "may i?"

"please," was all you managed to get out before luca held your chin and guided your lips to his. he was taking things slow, trying to sus your level of comfortability and giving you the chance to pull away if you wanted but you didn't want that. ever.

you brought your arms around his neck pushing him closer to you. the kiss got heavier and you moaned as he bit your lip. "i have been wanting to do this since i first saw you,"

"good because i've wanted this too," you say as luca starts to kiss your neck and moves his hands under your top.

he slides his hand up and down your back and then around to your boobs to start playing with your nipples. you lean your head back and revel in his affection.

you were desperate to get his hands on him as well so you lifted the black hoodie he adorned wanting to see his chest that you caught just a glimpse of earlier.

"wow," you say as you running both hands across his pecs and abs. you trail your fingers down south before you cup him through his jeans. "is this okay?" you whisper.

"more than okay," he lets out as you message him through his jeans.

he moves to take off your top next and you help, revealing your bare chest to him. luca looks at you in awe and immediately attaches his lips to your nipple while still playing with other.

you unbutton your jeans and luca helps you shimmy out of them.

"fuck," he whispered at the sight of you sitting completely naked and ready for him. he slides two fingers up and down your slit. "you're so wet, is this all for me?"

you whimper at his touch, spreading your legs wider. "all for you, luca."

he brings his fingers to his lips to taste you. "just like i imagined, you taste so sweet" he says as he gets on his knees and slides you to the edge of the counter.

the first lick was heaven. you couldn't help but throw your head back and moan. luca doesn't waste anytime, eating you like your his last meal.

"l-luca," you whine as he sucks on your clit. you grab his golden locks as he laps at your cunt.

"you're the best thing i've ever tasted," luca says in between licks. coming from a chef, that was the highest praise a girl could get.

he detaches himself from your cunt, his nose, lips and chin covered in your juices. he stands and holds your face in his hands and kisses you. you taste yourself on his tongue as he slipped it down your mouth.

"i need to fuck you or else i'm gonna lose my mind," he says in breathy whispers.

"upstairs," is all you said before he carries you in that direction and up the stairs to your bed.

luca drops you on the bed and you lay on your forearms and watch as him takes off his jeans and then his boxers. as he pulls that down, he watches you watch him.

your eyes go wide at the sight of his hard, and rather large, dick. you reach to wipe the pre-cum leaking from his tip, pressing it to your lips. he groans and climbs on top of you. "condom?"

"i'm on the pill," you say caressing his hair back and bringing his lips back to yours.

luca takes his aching dick and rubs it against your slit. "are you ready?"

"mmhm," you say as he wraps your legs around his waist as he sinks into you.

muffled moans are exchanged between the two of you as your mouths clashed hungrily.

"you're so big, luca" you say, squeezing down on his eliciting a hiss from him.

"y-yes squeeze me like that again... fuck," he thrusts his hip into you at a steady pace as you scratched your nails across his muscled back.

"this feels so good," he murmurs.

you gasp as he pulls out almost all the way only to push back int you again. you pull your knees up so he can reach deeper inside you. you could feel him stretching you and filling you up, his beautiful face inches away from yours as he peppers your neck with sloppy kisses.

the sounds falling from your lips are incoherent, his pace moving at a high speed as he wants to get you off. it didn't take long for you to gain the warm sensation in the pit of your stomach. "i'm so c-close,"

"yeah? cum for me, darling," he moans keeping that speed that he's at, his dick throbbing inside you as well signalling he was gonna cum soon.

luca let out a throaty groan before he snaps his hips into you, feeling his first load release into your cunt. you follow close behind as you cover his dick with your wetness but he stills fucks you through your high.

as you catch your breaths, he leans his forehead against your collarbone before he pulls out.

"wait there," he says and goes downstairs and comes back up just as quickly carrying paper towels. he smiles to himself seeing you in your current position all fucked out, liking the effect he had on you.

the bed dips as luca makes his way to you and cleans you up.

you slide under the covers, and when he discards the paper towels, he joins you.

"that was good," you say as he brings you into his chest.

his fingers trail up and down your arm softly while he lays his head on top of yours.

"it was," he says planting a kiss on your head.

"can we stay like this for a bit?" you ask not wanting this moment to end.

"yeah, i'm not going anywhere," he says.

between the day that you had and luca caressing you, you let tiredness wash over you.

tags: @leopard-skin-pillbox-hat-ok, @eddiemunsonreader, @sodapop182, @haydensith, @inpraizeof, @thecraziestcrayon, @zeeader, @tiana76, @jackierose902109

hope you guys enjoyed part two and thank you for all the support on the first part! part three is coming soon <3

[itsgodepi]

If I lose my mind | Ch. 2

Series summary: When life has given you more than enough lemons and you cannot figure out how to make a lemonade, the only way to make it work is to get rid of the whole basket. But was it neccesary to send you to a whole different dimension for that? A juicer would have done the job, really. Or, one day you go to sleep as a normal person and the next you wake up as a Formula One driver. You've never been a fan but isn't it like, one of the most exclusive sports? Pairing: CL16, LH44, CS55, DR3 x fem!reader Chapter: Previous | Next Word Count: 2.3k Also on AO3

“Oh, you’re up? C’mon get dressed, we have a meeting with the engineers in like ten minutes” the stranger singsongs, throwing the door open and carelessly stepping inside.

The man does not spare you a second glance, instead making a beeline for the tall window that cover the entire wall at your right to throw the curtains open. Your hand flies up to cover your eyes, the new source of light not only blinding you but also revealing too much information for you to process. What is this room? Not your bedroom, that’s clear, you sure as hell do not have a kitchen in front of the bed for starters. And what is that huge balcony? Where are you? 

However, you are missing a key question: you are late for what?

“I…I don’t-” you try to get his attention, arms coming around yourself for protection since your voice is not cooperating. 

He interrupts you almost instantly, ignoring your complaints as he takes a look down to his phone “Be ready in five, I have to make a call”, and with that said, he is out the door. 

The silence he leaves behind is chilling, your mind working at lightspeed while your body remains there, standing alone in the middle of an unknown place, petrified. You can only hear him outside, his steps and words filtering though the paper-thin walls —and only then does your brain register he is and has been talking in English all this time.  

You look around, completely overwhelmed by the situation. What are you supposed to do now, jump out the window? Because there is no way you are going to do what he is saying, right? You do not even know who he is or where you are, this is crazy!  

A look around the room further confirms your suspicions, this is a hotel room. Those bland colors, decoration to fit everyone’s taste and a neon pink suitcase pushed into a corner that you run to dig through with such fervor that you almost tear the zipper out. But there is nothing that could help you anywhere. Maybe you could throw one of the heels at him and pray that it causes a concussion or something, but that could potentially get you into a lot more trouble.  

A couple of knocks halt your investigation, the same mechanical noises sounding again as the door slowly opens. You make a split-second decision to hide in the bathroom, door closing way too loudly for him not to notice.  

“We really have to hurry, the car is waiting for us” the man sighs in frustration. You hear some ruffling around the room and before you can figure out what he is doing, he is walking towards the bathroom’s door “Hey, open up, you left your clothes outside” 

Considering your chances of escaping any other way are non-existent —you have locked yourself in the worst possible room for an impromptu breakout plan—, you decide to lower your head and listen to him. What else could happen? The situation is bad enough already, you should at least change out of this pyjama. 

Taking the knob in your hand and placing a foot close to the door to prevent it from completely opening, you comply with his request. Through the small gap appears a stack of neatly prepared clothes that you quickly snatch before closing it again. The outfit is nothing special, a pair of jeans and a shirt that looks exactly like the one that man is wearing. The fabric is white and of a strange but flowy material, logos of different brands plastered all over it. The biggest one painted right on its center, letters drawn in a dark red color: HAAS.  

Advertising clothes? Weird.  

You make quick work of getting yourself dressed, stepping out of the room before the man can call for you again. He guides you out the room and through the corridors in silence, glancing every now and then at his phone, until you arrive to the car he had talked about. The driver does not even look back when you get seated, only speeds off as soon as both doors are closed.  

On the ride, the atmosphere is tense. Nobody says a word, the only sound filling the space being that of the car’s radio, and even that is worrying you. They are speaking so fast and in such a strange language that it is impossible to understand any of it. Is that why the driver had not talked? Is he a foreigner, like the guy seated by your side? What have you gotten yourself into?  

“Sorry, I’ve been so stressed all morning... didn't even ask if you are feeling alright after yesterday” the man breaks the silence, letting go of his phone for the first time all morning.  

So, all of that did happen, you did faint in the arms of some stranger dressed in a weird orange jumpsuit. It is nice to have some confirmation, but what the hell... 

He rummages through the backpack in the middle seat while waiting for an answer that is so painfully obvious. No, you are not feeling alright, you have been literally kidnapped, is he that delusional or just plain stupid? But you decide it's better to remain silent.

In the meantime, he manages to take out two plastic cards with neck straps attached to them, and holds one of them on your direction as he puts his on. Something instantly catches your attention: not only is your face printed on it, but your name and surnames are written just beneath it. What is this? Why do they have this picture of you? You cannot remember ever taking this photo. 

But you do not dare ask it out loud, voice now stuck on your throat as you dwell on what this means to your situation. They must have been following you, they know exactly who you are.  

“The doctor said everything was fine, that it must have been the rush of emotions and the exhaustion, so you don’t have to worry” he explains once the silence stretches for a beat too long, waiting a second for it to sink in and gather some courage to continue his monologue “Look, I know you don’t like discussing these things on Sundays, but...” 

And although you would have loved to snap at him and tell him that he would not know what you want or do not want to talk about —who the fuck does he think he is?—, it is not you who interrupts him. The arrival to your supposed destination had gone unnoticed by both of you until a woman starts knocking on the car’s window, the scoldings about your lateness filtering even through the thick glass.  

Oh, his name is Nick? 

The pair seem to be associated —a conclusion that you draw solely because they are wearing that ugly advertising shirt you are now sporting too— or they at least know each other enough for the man to shoot straight out from the car as soon as he hears her. You do so as well, for some reason, but they come over to guide you around before you can question your decision any further. 

The place they have taken you to is rather strange, an enclosed area with colorful buildings that look more like tall campers than actual constructions. The people crowding the street are bubbling with energy, running from one place to another, talking and eating. Some of them are carrying cameras and microphones, big ones, like those you see in TV and... they are pointing them at you? In fact, when you look around to confirm your suspicions, you note that you have attracted more than the attention of the cameras, there is so much people looking at you. 

Even though you try to avoid everybody’s gazes, too worried about who they might be and what they could do, a man standing further down the street manages to catch your eyes. He waves at you, his lips being drawn into a smile as he notices you have seen him. He is dressed in a red shirt with a bunch of logos —these people sure are big on advertising clothes— and a matching cap, a similar outfit to the man he had been talking to. Oh, and now he is... walking towards you? What? Who is he? But most importantly, should you like, say something? It is not like your kidnappers, or whoever they are, are any more trustworthy than a random man on the street, but maybe- 

Yet, before you can decide on anything, he has already arrived.

“Hey, did you eat? You didn’t, right?” the man in red asks —in English again, mind you, although he seems to have a different accent—, and answers his own question in the same breath. 

You shake your head in response anyway, it is true, the last thing you ate was yesterday’s lunch, had been too sad to even make yourself a sandwich that night. But it does not feel like your stomach would accept anything either. 

His smile widens at the confirmation, dimples peeking out as he reveals what he had been hiding behind his back. On his palm rests a package of cookies wrapped in transparent plastic and a pretty bow. “They made these again! You liked them so much last time, so I brought you some” the man’s voice has turned light with happiness, the look on his green eyes signaling just how proud he is to have gotten them for you, but what does he mean by last time? 

Frowning, you peel your eyes off the treat, looking up to the pair by your side for permission. This all seems so strange. “Of course, go ahead” Nick quickly responds, looking rather confused “You can eat whatever you want, I thought you’d be too nervous for food”. And you are, but this man is looking sweetly that it feels impossible to refuse his gift.  

You swiftly pick up the bag, holding it close to your chest as a “Thanks” slides out of your lips.  

“Uhm, sorry, the meeting is about to start, we have to go” the woman beside you reminds, as Nicks checks his phone for the nth time this morning “Good luck today, Charles! Be safe” 

Oh, Charles? That may explain the accent, it sure isn’t an English name. 

“Yeah, I’m running late as well” Charles murmurs, taking a look back to where he came from. You follow his gaze to see a man dressed in a similar red shirt, arms crossed over his chest as he waits by the door of another building. Charles seems to nod at him after the man in red makes some signals and points at his watch. “Thank you, and good luck to you too! I know you’ll do great so” he looks back at you this time, shrugging his shoulders as a grin plays on his lips, like it is a done deal.  

But what exactly are you supposed to do great at? What is all this good luck for? The man’s arm quickly comes to rest on top of your shoulders before you can dwell on Charles’ words too long, steering you towards one of the buildings while your mind is boiling with questions.  

A glass door gives way to a long corridor full of doors, voices and mechanical noises echoing off the walls. The inside is fully painted in white with various red details lining the walls, which awfully remind you of the place you had woken up in yesterday. The only difference is that now you can recognize that red logo drawn all over the walls: HAAS. The same one resting atop your abdomen. You look down at your shirt to confirm it, eyebrows furrowing as you try to decipher what this is supposed to mean.  

The source of all that noise seems to be a bigger room that opens at the end of the hallway, one that you do not get the opportunity to take a peek at because the man smoothly ushers you into one of the firsts rooms before you can snoop around much. The door opens to reveal a group of men seated around a table, the group casually greeting you and resuming their conversation a second later. The conversation seems to be all about cars? Something about their engines, the degradation, strategies and stuff you cannot understand, the discussion continuing as one of them points at statistics on a screen. Is that an F1 car?  

“We are starting really far ahead today, congratulations on P10! I didn’t get to talk to you yesterday so… I hope you are feeling better and just” one of them says, his eyes lifting from the papers on the table to look straight at you with a big smile “Don’t be greedy, ok? Keep the position, we need the points” The rest of the men seem to agree with that piece of advice, erupting in laughs as they dedicate each other knowing glances.  

On the other hand, you remain silent, trying to figure out what he could possibly be talking about. P what? What is P? 

The meeting does not last much, a thousand of technical words are thrown around without care and a pile of numbers is presented to you all, but you do not manage to grasp what anything of it means. However, the final phrase stays on your mind, a wish that they all share: “Let’s have a great race”. And that word is what starts turning the gears in your head.  

That and the fucking Formula One car that you come face to face with when Nick leads you further down the corridor. A “What the hell?” rolling out of your tongue almost unconsciously, eyes glued to the machine before you are pushed into yet another room.  

Next chapter

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Author's note: Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thank you so much for the nice comments and interactions.

Taglist: @purplephantomwolf @raye2000 @yuiiimd@drezzerk33

[maxwell-grant]

Thoughts on the master of fear, Scarecrow? Also, fave design, he has so many good ones (second BTAS, his trading card one, mistress of fear, Gaslight,, fear for sale, the Arkham Games etc)?

Hey so, do any of you remember Batman Live? It was this really fun, extravagant stage show that touched on a lot of Batman hallmarks and was generally a really fun time as far as I recall. I went to the São Paulo premiere with my family, and I was a little too young to really recall most of it now, but some things I definitely remember like the huge Joker hot air balloon made of performers in bodypaint, or the comedy sequences in the Iceberg Lounge. The one thing that stuck with me the most was when the Scarecrow showed up. Batman goes to Arkham Asylum and the entire comedy camp tone drops dead, as he walks in and finds all these bodies in straightjackets hanging from chains, and the doors open as The Scarecrow walks towards him in stilts, summoning loud smoke eruptions that are poisoning and weakening Batman as he leers over him. That part actually did scare me as a kid, and it was probably the first time I had any kind of feelings on Scarecrow imprinted in me.

I was introduced to The Scarecrow as this uniquely horrifying villain who could terrify through presentation alone. I didn't particularly understand what the fear gas was, I was too taken with that ungainly thing up there with the stilts and all those people turned into cadaverous decorations, lurking from the endless halls of the asylum, who towered over everyone and placed Batman into a writhing breakdown with a few gestures, and never appeared again until the cast roll, completely absent from the rogues gatherings after. Granted, of course that's because the stilts prevented him from joining the fight scenes, but that helped to reinforce his mystery. He wasn't someone Batman was going to punch back, no no, the Scarecrow simply vanished as soon as he was done with disarming Batman, and you'd just have to pray for that unfathomable creep to never show up again.

And I'd say this might be part of why I've never been too big on the fear gas, in part because I was first enraptured by a version of The Scarecrow who clearly didn't need it that much, or at least, could do much more besides it. The Scarecrow is, I'd say actually one of my top 10 DC characters, half of that on the basis of his designs, but he's a character who tends to really, really struggle under a lack of cohesion and being subordinate to his gimmick, much more so than the other rogues. The fear gas is a good gimmick, but it is just that, a gimmick, and one that's usually reliant on how far can the story push the horror and the visuals to at least make it effectively scary for us, otherwise it gets incredibly boring very fast, and it's not even a gimmick exclusive to him since so many other characters have similar mind control/illusion abilities/gadgetry at hand (and to say nothing of Hugo Strange, who first used fear gas and who quite frankly kicks the Scarecrow's ass in terms of quality storylines, although Hugo does that to most of the other Batman villains too)

The Scarecrow has become the go-to character for hallucination sequences / revisiting character traumas, which frequently makes him less of a character and more so a convenient plot device, a problem heightened by the larger issue here that is his inconsistent motivation, or lack thereof. He lacks the kind of "breakout" stories that his fellow major Batman villains have had that usually cement an ongoing characterization, and his most famous/celebrated appearences in mass media don't really do much to combat the assertion that he is shallow and weak and whose only asset is the gas (namely, his boss fights in Arkham Asylum, which are all about the fear gas hallucination scares, and his role in Nolan's Batman, which is very fun, but also purposefully plays him up for ridicule and lack of depth next to the other villains)

These days, the Scarecrow is a tedious pip-squeak. His schemes lack verve, his cruelties stir little in the way of frissons. Haunted by cliché to an even greater extent than the other rogues, he’s often brought low with a single sock to the jaw delivered by Batman, or by finding himself on the receiving end of his own fear-inducing concoctions. He often acts as a pawn in the hands of bigger, badder third parties. He’s ostensibly a stand-in for the figure of the reductive, smug and hypocritical psychologist, nicely bundled up for the audience to humiliate in effigy - TheMindlessOnes's rogue review for Scarecrow

In "Nothing to Fear" it is explained that Jonathan Crane has always had this "thing" for scaring people. (Just as Snidely Whiplash had his "thing" for tying women to railroad tracks, I suppose.) But this is a wan kind of motive. One senses sadly that the real motive for the Scarecrow's behavior lies in the writer's need for someone to do something reprehensible. At the root of the matter may be a difficulty in sorting out the Scarecrow's ends from his means, with a consequent confusion between the goals the Scarecrow intends to reach and the tactics he employs in reaching them.

As a psychologist specializing in phobic disorders, Crane knows how to induce fear and trembling in his victims. But this tells us nothing about what the Scarecrow wants to accomplish. And without a sense or statement of what those goals are, the writer will be tempted to substitute means for end and make the Scarecrow's goal simply the scaring of people. Usually his actions are woefully underexplained - Dreams in Darkness' review by Toonzone

You might think that I'd be advocating for the Scarecrow, then, to disregard a need for a motivation and become as unknowable and horrific as possible, to recapture the awe I felt at his Batman Live self, but no, not at all. For one, I don't think the best version of anything is necessarily the one that made the most impact on me as a kid. Two, there have been some attempts over the years to remove Scarecrow from the toxin or seriously amp him up as a threat, and frankly, most of those have only made the character dramatically worse and more boring (I don't remember the name, but there was a Batman story a while ago where he goes on a big scary killing spree with no toxin just to prove he can and it was fucking terrible). Three, and the big one here, is that this pretty much forces you to get rid of Dr. Jonathan Crane, and I think that does a disservice to the character's potential. I think that's giving up on trying to make him work as a character and I don't think you have to do that.

My preferred characterization for Crane is one that emphasizes his nature as a scholar turned supervillain. The cold and misanthropic and neurotic nerd professor who spent most of his salary on books and took to terrorizing the city as a costumed criminal in part because he wanted money to buy more books. Who takes off the costume mid-crime spree to school his henchmen on specifics of brain chemistry, who gets revenge on those that wrong his students or even employs them as henchmen, still the same guy who thinks there's nothing wrong with firing a loaded gun in a packed classroom as a demonstration. Far less interested in human connections than he is in human reactions, things that can surprise him or that he can catalogue or research or write about. Someone who's not a sadist for sadism's sake, but who doesn't really see you as a person so much as he sees a test subject. I like Crane as a snarky humorous heel who thinks of himself as amoral and mature while doing horribly immoral and childish things, the Herbert West or Rusty Venture of Batman villains (James Urbaniak is definitely the voice I'd pick for him).

My preferred kind of motivation for him is something along the lines of how he's portrayed in most of Kings of Fear, where he puts Batman through the wringer in part as an attempt to get to him and cure him once and for all, or issues #4-5 of The Batman Adventures where he induces city-wide illiteracy in part as a protest against the city's failing education. In Gothtopia he makes all of Gotham hallucinate their perfect ideal lives, eliminating the crime rate but causing the suicide rate to spike up in return, and yes it does turn out to be the set-up for a really generic "fear gas everyone with blimps and make everyone twice as scared" pay off when his involvement is revealed, but I always thought Scarecrow being able and willing to do that, to create these huge and even benevolent-seeming social experiments, as an idea with legs. Fear State was frustratingly halfway there, with the initial set-up of Scarecrow pursuing a theory for fear-based social upheaval, but on top of not being very good, it also wound up that he was just doing the same old thing again and had Batman call him out as someone who just wanted to gas the city and make everyone scared again and never changes and does anything different, which seemed like Tynion defeating his own purpose of trying to make a defining Scarecrow story and address his lack of one, completely failing to address the why the character has that kind of problem and upending itself for meta commentary before doing anything interesting.

Even Kings of Fear, easily the best Scarecrow story of the past decades if not outright ever, kinda ends in a bit of a cop-out where The Scarecrow has to be wrong ("Even when he's telling the truth, he's lying, and even when he's right, he's wrong", Gordon tells Batman to reassure him, to nullify the past 5 issues criticizing and tearing into Batman from every angle imaginable), and he has to be a sadist who just wanted to fuck with Batman and uncover his worst fears because it's what he does. Why does Scarecrow want to unravel people and wrench their worst fears into the surface? Because he's a sadist who gets off on it? I guess that's the canon answer most of the time, but it's such a boring, weak one. Because he wants revenge on the world / bullies? Still weak, done better by other villains even. Because of an unspeakably traumatic childhood that taught him the world was ruled by fear and therefore driving him to become it's master? Okay, but it still doesn't actually answer what he wants to get out of doing what he does.

We know that Jonathan Crane was a fragile youth routinely terrorized and abused by others and plainly traumatized by his experiences. We know that he is learned and brilliant and given to introspection and fantasy.

From this base it is not hard to imagine Crane turning into a man fiercely devoted to solitude and study and capable of a murderous rage when his privacy is violated. It is possible, in other words, to imagine him as a reactive force, in the mold of Freeze, systematically terrorizing and destroying anyone who crosses him but rarely wanting to start trouble himself.

Or we can imagine him as a mercenary, a specialist hired by others for nefarious purposes, but who is not himself strongly motivated by particular rages or desires.

But if the Scarecrow is going to remain a sadist and a sadist only—if he is going to be moved only by the psychotic desire to harm others—we ought to be made to feel the seductive power that sadism has over its practitioners; we should be made to feel and appreciate the hot and sour joy that comes from the purposeful humiliation of another - Dreams in Darkness review by Toonzone

It's kind of a frustrating pattern in a lot of his stories where he gives a reason for doing something, and it turns out to be a cover for yet another sadistic fear gas attack, but his cover reason was a more interesting motivation for him than what he actually was going for. A villain who mainly just gets a kick out of hurting people and concocts bullshit excuses and reasons to justify said hurting? The Joker does that already, but the Joker always clearly states what he wants and has all those ways to make cruelty for cruelty's sake entertaining. If that's all The Scarecrow is also, no wonder he's going to be so incredibly lacking most of the time (nevermind the fact that he's never going to be the guy most infamous for gassing Gotham City).

Yes, he may be sadistic and cruel, he may enjoy what he does too much, and maybe there really isn't any kind of realistic explanation as to why a man would dress up as a scarecrow to commit terrorism and spray innocent people with chemicals to make them terrified, but refer to the guy he's fighting. "Realistic" is the wrong term. The issue here is less "why" the Scarecrow does what he does, and more what is he hoping to get out of it. Granted, this is less of a concern if you're playing The Scarecrow as a figure of horror, someone who's not even really human underneath that outfit. But I think that locks away much of his versatility. The Scarecrow needs Jonathan Crane, and I think there's good stuff to like about that awful man.

I like Jonathan Crane the sardonic pragmatic scientist who still embraces his hopelessly ridiculous life, a guy who's not nearly as above it all as he'd like to be and has wants and needs moreso than he really likes to admit. I like him as a book lover, as a fan of horror, I like him as the kind of guy who'd send fan mail to Elvira and break out of Arkham just to catch a Halloween parade and guest star in a Scooby-Doo movie for a change. I like him as someone who'd have a decent working relationship with the other rogues and pal with the Legion of Doom and get into a physical spat with Riddler over a chess game. Someone who custom-makes his own outfits and equipment, who makes scythes out of animal bones to fight Batman with, who picked the scarecrow motif in part because it was a term of derision his colleagues used on him.

Who pours himself over his research as he records his theories in a tape recorder, the kind of guy who grouses at having to clean another cell because he's getting annoyed at his test subjects killing themselves, seriously guys the cleaning supplies for this batch were as fresh as they could be, and the iguana amygdalas I used should be stopping your neocortexes from overreacting this strongly. Subject #3 over there got over his fear of centipedes yesterday and he hasn't screamed all morning, I'm gonna need the rest of you to stop being such babies, okay?

It must be terribly liberating for Crane, to transcend mere ugliness and become inhuman. Of all the rogues, he’s easily the one who takes Batman’s “I need a disguise; I shall become a beast of the night” schtick and runs with it the farthest - TheMindlessOnes's rogue review for Scarecrow

And that's for Jonathan Crane, man of science. The Scarecrow, however, is not science, he is unreason incarnate, and to me what most makes The Scarecrow work as a Batman villain has nothing to do with "they both use fear as a weapon", I always thought that was a bit shallow of an angle to pursue (most, if not all, the villains rely on fear, it comes with the whole "crime" thing). The two have a stronger connection via the costume, the theatricality, the becoming a creature of the night angle. None of the other major Batman villains are going into their costumes the way The Scarecrow is. They have their personas and varying degrees of division between them and their "real selves", but few of them are wearing outright identity-separating Halloween Monster Costumes with separate names and personalities they can dip in and out of at their convenience.

And I'm gonna interrupt myself to answer your second question. I couldn't pick just one design, so counting the Batman Live one above, I picked 10. These are not in order and they're not necessarily how I'd design him, I'd say my actual favorite Scarecrow designs are fan-made, but if I was going to pick out of "official" material these are the ones I'd go for. It's time for:

(Left-to-right: George Pratt's Scarecrow pin-up, Phil Jimenez's Scarecrow design, Ed Natividad's concept art for Suicide Squad)

(Left-to-right: His TNBA design by Bruce Timm as drawn by Luciano Vecchio, Alex Ross's design for Justice, and Tim Sale's Scarecrow)

(Left-to-right: Kelley Jones' design for Kings of Fear, Jeremy Raapack's design for Legends of the Dark Knight #25, Scarecrow's design in Happy Halloween, Scooby-Doo!)

*cough*, anyway: Most of the other rogues with their signature suits or masks or body distortions don't tend to have closets full of different variant Batsuits and scarecrow costumes to choose and devote to their cause and ideal, that they sit at night tailoring on how to make scarier or more loaded with weapons, that they might even have conversations with, things that sit in their closets waiting because both of these brilliant men, men who have (or at least had) different civilian lives, men who could stop doing this at any time, who both decided that becoming a Halloween monster prowling the streets to inflict terror is a necessary, even productive use of their time.

And I think that's the key word I want to end here, productive. I think The Scarecrow needs to be more productive. Because even if he's not aware of it, he is achieving progress via his research, and there is one way he's proved his ideas: Batman walks out of every fight they have stronger. Every encounter they have is a test that Batman resists and walks out of more able to cope with his own traumas, or at least, better able to resist them being weaponized against him. I always wanted to explore the idea that Crane is genuinely convinced he's doing people a favor or at least achieving something via all these horrible Scarecrow campaigns, and one thing he has achieved is that Batman is never not prepared for chemical attacks or assaults on his mind, Batman resists ungodly trials of willpower and determination and courage, in part because he has to deal with the Scarecrow pumping terror juice in his brain semi-regularly.

The fact that Crane loses and gets beaten up and has to retry schemes again and again and kill people and join the costume parade just to lure Batman is fairly inconsequential to him, so long as it gets results. He's not interested in dissecting Batman's brain or being more like Batman, that's Hugo Strange's thing. Hugo Strange needs Batman to be fearless, allmighty and perfect, where as Jonathan Crane wants nothing more than to unearth and study the fears and kinks in the armor, the dead last thing he wants is a perfect man. Hugo Strange wants to crawl naked into the mask of the great and terrible fascist and never come out, where as The Scarecrow wants to crack open all the masks in the world and feast luridly on whatever seeps out.

Batman isn't just the ultimate trial against his fear-ruled worldview (or even affirmation), and he isn't just a breakthrough waiting to happen: he might be his greatest success as of yet. A case study on the success of exposure therapy, proof of potential medicinal applications for his formula, the greatest guinea pig of all time because he won't die no matter what you pump into him, you name it. So what if all those other people couldn't stomach the procedure, so what if those precious innocents are too weak and stupid and useless to not get in the way of research, it's clearly worked wonders for those who could take it.

And if the future belongs to men like Batman, if all of these superheroes and supervillains are the way things are going to be like forever, if the future is Bat-shaped and as vast and uncertain and horrible as the forces shaping it, the future needs to be prepared. The future needs to grapple with it's past and face it's greatest horrors and become stronger for it. There is no such thing as overcoming fear, there is only living with it, embracing it, bowing to the primordial instinct that knows the answer before you do. Mankind grew and developed it's intelligence and tools out of fear, fear of the bigger predators out there, fear of the other cavemen, fear of starvation and death and everything they couldn't understand and master until they learned to fear it. What better knowledge to pass along than fear? And who is better qualified to teach about fear?

Maybe Crane isn't just another monster with a grudge, maybe he isn't another costumed revenge killer, maybe he isn't just a power-tripping sadist bully out to torment others because he can, and maybe he isn't a hopeless traumatized madman who destroyed his professional and personal life in a monstrous quest to satisfy an obsession ruling his soul.

Maybe he is a sane response to an insane situation. Ever heard that one before?

[digitaldiarystuff]

Bad Liar Pt.3

note: thank you for all your comments about the direction of the story and this is a long story, let’s see what happens next

————

summary: you are in a long time situationship with pedri and you’re falling more and more everyday hoping he feels the same until you discover a secret changing everything

pairing: Pedri Gonzalez x Y/N

genre: pure angst

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It had been two months since your last talk with Pedri and your life seemed to change drastically. You didn’t speak at all, even when he called one night out of the blue at 3 a.m. you didn’t answer. You were afraid of what he was going to say because even after everything you would’ve ran to him if he said he’s feeling horrible. That’s why you went no contact, just watching his games and pre and post interviews just to hear his voice, your friends strongly disagreed about you watching them but you told them you needed it.

His relationship seemed to end, since there was no updated stories or outings caught by the paparazzi but you can never be sure, what if he used the same tactics on her, telling her they should hide just so they don’t hurt her.

You went through every stage of grief.

Denial, you often found yourself thinking this wasn’t real, that in some fucked up way he was lying to you to protect you or that he loved you and that’s why he tried getting rid of you so you can be better off.

Anger, then came the time when you wrecked your room when you saw one of his hoodies sitting on your closet, you threw a tantrum and shattered the one framed picture you had together. Pedri was not into selfies, or so he has said but he liked this one so much that he got it framed for you. You threw all your belongings around in that state and felt pure anger in your veins. How could he?

Bargaining, you tried making deals with yourself, if you could go 2 days without thinking about him you could watch his game but it was no use. You couldn’t stop thinking about him as you couldn’t not watch his games.

Depression, this was the hardest stage yet. You felt empty and couldn’t even move for days at a time. You couldn’t eat which made you lose weight and since you’re not fed, you had even less energy to wake up. It lasted for a long period when you couldn’t even focus on your tests so not only you’ve lost him you also slipped up on your academic life. Everything started spiraling.

Then came the acceptance, where you slowly wrap your mind around what happened and there’s nothing you could do to prevent it. It wasn’t your fault but the only person hurting was also you. You didn’t need this, you had to start over and let go of him for yourself. You started attending classes again and taking care of yourself, went on long walks around the neighborhood started drinking water a lot more and did skin treatments for the breakouts you had over the last couple of months. Yes you were sad but life goes on, if people can start over at any point then so can you.

You reconnected with your friends after a long time without any. You thought they’d be mad but they were incredibly supportive of your decision to be better and tried everything they could. They even helped you to get rid of everything that reminded you of him. His clothes, perfume bottle, shaving cream and the groceries you had just for his visits. You felt like throwing a party of yourself with those trash bags but you didn’t mind. You even got rid of the christmas tree, christmas already came and go but knowing he helped you decorate it, you couldn’t look at it without breaking down. But now, your apartment looked so fresh with some new plants and different aesthetic, it was dark and gloomy before.

You decided to post a story of your new living space after being mia for months. You were proud of your progress.

ynyln

You checked your phone after a minute to see who viewed it and saw his name at the top of the list. He didn’t react or dm’ed you just saw it in 20 seconds which made you wonder if he had your post notifications on but you quickly shrugged the idea and blocked him on everything. You hadn’t thought of it until now because he never tried reaching you.

The next day you met Rosa, a close friend of yours for an afternoon coffee after your classes and caught up with what’s going on in her life. She was doing good and so were you.

“Btw, Mateo’s been asking about you nonstop.” giggled Rosa.

“Why?” you curiously asked.

“Why? How can you be so blind, he’s obsessed with you.” she said. Mateo was a classmate of yours and he did have a flirty personality but you never paid much attention to it because your mind was always elsewhere.

“I didn’t realize.” you confessed.

“Well, you should. Just a heads up he’s coming over here and I have to handle some family business so have fun on your date. Trust me you’ll thank me later.” she said as she stood up to greet him.

He hugged her and then looked at you.

“I like the new hair, you look great.” he smiled politely and you rose from your chair to hug him as well. You were still shocked at Rosa’s devilish plan and she was smirking to you as she said she had to leave.

“Do you want a refill?” Mateo asked when Rosa left. You didn’t even realize your cup was empty.

“That would be great.” you handed him the cup and he went to the counter.

This was the first time you had your eyes open for a while and you took in his appearance, he was tall and muscular, you knew he liked going to the gym but never cared to actually realize how good he looked. He was also a brunette but his hair was much lighter than… Pedri. You quickly shook your head and tried getting rid of Pedri’s image. You were giving yourself a chance to move on and he wasn’t going to stop you.

It was 3 months after your first date with Mateo and you were seeing each other ever since. It was going pretty good, even though you weren’t in love with him but you really liked him. And you realized love can only hurt you and you were better off without it. Mateo was safe, he was willing to go with your pace never pushing you for anything. You told him pretty early in your relationship that you don’t feel comfortable being intimate with him now, he knew of your past but didn’t know who it was but assured you it was okay and you should take your time. Tonight was his birthday, he wanted to celebrate with only you but his friends wanted to throw him a party at a club in the heart of the city. You knew this club, Pedri sometimes visited it but of course he never wanted to take you. When you first heard the name of the place, you felt like fainting but after checking the fixture you realized it was a match day. You haven’t watched any games since your 4th date with Mateo, you figured it’d be disrespectful and you were trying to get on with your life. Since it was a match day, you knew it was unlikely Pedri would be there. He was a homebody and didn’t really liked going out after matches. You texted Mateo a paragraph celebrating his birthday and telling how excited you were to be with him tonight. He thanked you and said he can’t wait. Tonight also had another big meaning, you felt like you were ready to finally be with him, fully. Everything was going great and he was a genuine person, you found it hard to believe at first but he seemed like a person you can trust.

You met everyone at the club around 10. You were wearing a strapless white short dress and did your hair in a slicked back ponytail while Mateo was wearing a white button up shirt, you properly looked like a couple without even trying. As you danced around the crowd with champagne glasses in your hands, your friend took a picture of you that you loved, everything looked so good. Mateo asked if he could post it as a story and you knew he was just trying to ask you to do the same. You never posted or tagged each other before, you knew he wanted to but you couldn’t. Even though Pedri wasn’t in your list anymore, showing everyone you were with someone didn’t sit right with you. Maybe he fucked your mind so much that you didn’t know what’s the norm anymore. Still, you were slightly uncomfortable but it was Mateo’s birthday and you didn’t want to upset him and agreed. You both posted the picture on your stories and put your phones back to your pockets enjoying the rest of the night.

ynyln tagged @mateoln

You stumbled out the club a few hours later, Mateo was beyond drunk and he was holding onto his best friend like a koala. He drank so much and you started to feel a little out of place, you were never a heavy drinker and preferred your boyfriend do the same. But it was his big night and you didn’t want to scold him for not holding back, maybe he needed this.

But seeing him utterly intoxicated waiting for a cab made you sober up even more, he didn’t even know where he was or who he was with. You knew he went out to party once a week with his friends but never questioned, was he like this every time?

“Are you coming to his house?” his best friend asked you after putting him in the backseat. They were going to crash there tonight.

“Um, no no I have an early class tomorrow I should get some rest. Text me when you arrive though.” you said and waved at them as the cab slowly turned around going in his way.

You requested an uber and got out in front of your building. You walked in and out of the elevator with some thoughts in your head, you thought tonight you’d give yourself to him but he was so off that he wouldn’t even remember if you did. Also, why weren’t you sad and more relieved that you hadn’t shared any moments like that? You slowly opened the door and went in, seeing a figure on the couch sitting with their elbows on their knees. You started to scream and search for the light switch. As you pressed it, the figure came close to you and shushed you. That’s when you realized who it was and stopped squirming and trying to escape although maybe you should have.

“Pedri?” you asked confused and terrified. “What are you doing here? How- How did you”

“I used the spare key under the rug.” he said and you could smell the alcohol from a mile away. He was slurring a little and his eyes hardly focused as they went from your face to your dress to the apartment behind you.

“What’s going on?” you asked as you hung your coat and purse.

“Where’s he?” he asked head low.

“Who?” you asked trying to understand why he was here after months and months drunk out of his mind and broke into your apartment without you knowing. He went to try to sit down as you washed your hands quickly and poured him some water.

“Mateo.” he hissed like saying the name made him feel disgusted and you realized he must’ve seen your story.

“But how did you- Gavi.” you cut yourself off, even though you blocked Pedri, you liked his younger best friend and didn’t see a reason to cut him off too. Gavi probably sent your photo to him. You saw him struggling trying to sit down on the couch and held his arm for some support.

“How much did you drink?” you asked annoyed. One drunk man was bad enough and now you had to deal with two.

“Tell me, are you with him?” he finally sat straight and looked at you with puppy eyes. His under eye bags were looking even more deep and his eyes were bloodshot. You couldn’t help but feel awful at his state, your heart started beating so much more since the moment you laid eyes on him than in the previous months of being with Mateo but you couldn’t break right now.

“Pedri, I don’t think you being here is a good idea. We’re both in relationships and this is not right.” you said and even if this was true, your intention was to find out if he’s still with her.

He said nothing and just threw his phone slowly at your side of the couch. You yelped but didn’t touch it, not sure why he did that.

“Go through my phone.” he said.

“Why?”

“Go through it and see everything for yourself. I’m not in a relationship, I’m not even talking to anyone else than my family.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Was he telling the truth and even if he was, was this really the way he wanted to tell you

“Why are you telling me this? Is this supposed to make a difference?”

He shuffled closer to you to hold your arms making you look up at him.

“I’m a mess, I fucked up, I hurt you and deserve every bad thing in the world. I know it’s not fair for me to get mad at you for moving on but” he sighed and searched your eyes “But I can’t” you closed your eyes trying hard to not cry. But soon your tears started rolling down your face and Pedri quickly wiped them and hid your face in his chest trying to calm you. He stroke your hair and whispered it’s okay over and over. You hated him but it worked, it always did. His words, his voice and eyes made you feel like everything was going to be okay and you were afraid of just falling under his spell again.

“Pedri you can’t do this to me.” you said in a small voice.

“I know I’m sorry but I can’t go on like this, I’m selfish and I don’t deserve you but if you let me I can show you how much I’ve changed. How much I want you.” he said as his eyes slowly turned to your lips, his voice got huskier and you self consciously licked your lips and he kissed you. As his lips landed on yours, it felt like you were at home, it felt so warm and familiar. After many months, you finally felt safe and comfortable and his movements were so much softer than you remembered. Before, most of your kisses were filled with lust and happened in a rush but this one felt like he was genuinely showing you his love.

Not good enough.

You pulled back and looked at him. His eyes were softer and much more hopeful but this wasn’t going to make you cave. If he really wanted this, he needed to tell you, showing wasn’t enough.

“Give me a reason.” you slowly said.

“Because you want to.”

“It’s not good enough.”

“Because I want you to.”

“Not good enough. Give me the true reason. Three words, eight letters. Say it and I’m yours.” you said with pleading eyes. You needed him to say it.

“I” he started. “I-“

“Thank you, that’s all I needed to hear.” you said and freed yourself from his touch. You didn’t even look at him.

“You can get out, stay here I don’t care. Just be gone in the morning.” you stated and went into your bedroom shutting the door harshly. You can’t let him destroy you again.

As you sat on the bed sobbing you heard the front door shut and realized he was a coward and a liar all over again.

You hated him.

————

note: ok listen to me i’m sorry i used blair and chuck’s scene but while i was writing it was the only thing that felt right and i’m so in my feelings rn hope you like it and part 4 will be up 2 days later so stay tuned 💔

please please tell me how this is going comments really help me🥹

[xoxomireya]

```𓄲﹑📓﹐how to fix your skin barrierㆍ✶ㆍ﹗

WHAT’S A SKIN BARRIER?

A skin barrier is the outermost layer of your skin, which defends your skin from harmful environmental toxins and pathogens. It also prevents the water in your body from evaporating and leaving you dehydrated. It consists of tough skin cells called corneocytes that are bound together by mortar-like lipids. Inside the skin cells, you’ll find keratin and natural moisturizers. The lipid layer contains cholesterol, fatty acids and ceramides.

WHAT ARE THE SIGNS OF A DAMAGED SKIN BARRIER?

Inflammation.

Dark spots and hyperpigmentation.

Rough and uneven texture.

Tightness and flaking/peeling.

Dull and dehydrated skin.

Breakouts and rashes.

HOW TO ACTUALLY FIX MY SKIN BARRIER?

Simplify your skincare routine and cut down on exfoliating acids and actives. Over exfoliating can cause breakouts, inflammation and loss of hydration. Instead, look for moisturizers that have skin barrier ingredients like the ones listed below in this post.

Just like over exfoliating, over cleansing can also ravage your skin barrier. To prevent this, start using gentle cleansers (unless you have a very oily skin) which is free from AHAs and BHAs. Remember to cleanse your face with lukewarm water and don’t apply harsh active ingredients that will dry the skin out.

REMEMBER TO APPLY SUNSCREEN !!!

DO NOT scrub or pick at dry, irritated skin. I know it can be tempting to pick at your acne and pop pimples but squeezing can push bacteria back and deeper into the skin, which in the long run will cause more swelling and redness.

Eat food rich in water like cucumbers or watermelon and drink enough water every day (around 2L) since a damaged skin barrier is mostly caused by dehydrated skin.

SKIN BARRIER REPAIRING INGREDIENTS:

Niacimide: Hydrates and works as an antioxidant. Stimulates ceramide production.

CBD: Powerful anti-inflammatory ingredient.

Green Tea: Aids in anti-aging, soothes the skin and has antioxidant properties.

Panthanol: Soothes irritation, reduces redness and improves overall skin tone.

Glycerin: Aids in hydration, soothes the skin and accelerates healing wounds.

Ceramides: Decreases trans epidermal water loss and aids in anti-aging.

[femmefatalevibe]

Femme Fatale Nighttime Routine

Prime your space for rest and sensual relaxation. Lean into your seductive, dark feminine energy. Set the tone to pursue self-care and pleasure after hours. 

Wash Off The Day: Get out of your mind and into your body. Transition into the evening with a luscious shower (or bath) to help you feel your best. Use your favorite shampoo, conditioner, exfoliating scrub, and body wash that suit your hair and skin type. Savor the various scents, steam, and the blissful feeling of clean, smooth skin. Follow up your shower with a body lotion and a hair leave-in conditioner. Make sure they’re hydrating. Enjoy the lingering scent. Change into a silk robe or matching loungewear set in a luxurious fabric – satin, lace, or cashmere – that glides over your freshly pampered skin. Prioritizing yourself is sexy. 

Listen To A Seductive Playlist: Create a rich, indulgent and serene environment. Depending on the mood (or how early you start your nighttime routine), tune into a playlist of sensual, slowed-down songs, a French playlist to unleash your inner je ne sais quoi, a slowed-down playlist, or an extended mediation music video to tap into your feminine energy. A few recommendations are below: 

French Evening Playlists:  Playlist 1, Playlist 2, Playlist 3

Slowed & Seductive Playlists: Playlist 1, Playlist 2, Playlist 3, Playlist 4

Divine/Dark Feminine Energy Meditations: Meditation 1, Meditation 2,  Meditation 3

Do Your Skincare Routine: Build an evening skincare routine that feels like a relaxing ritual (and also offers lasting results). Find a cleanser, toner, and moisturizer that works for your skin type. Consider using skin-nourishing products like hyaluronic acid or vitamin C serum, retinol, and eye cream. Exfoliate your face 2-3 times a week. Use a rich, hydrating face mask once a week. Add a jade or quartz roller to your routine to massage your skin, release any tension, and debloat your face from the day. Do your skincare routine in the following order: Cleanser, Toner, Serum(s), Eye Cream, Spot Treatment, Moisturizer, and Face Oil. Try using disposable face cloths to prevent bacteria from causing breakouts. My favorite ones are linked HERE (they have an exfoliating side, too). 

Make Some Tea: Indulge all your senses. Steep some bedtime or ‘sleepy time’ tea. Options with notes like vanilla, cinnamon, almond, cocoa, and chai offer a luscious and spicy aroma to help you embrace your sensuality (and satisfy any cravings before bed). 

Indulge In A Creative Outlet: Add to your vision board on Pinterest, spend a few minutes browsing on Tumblr, draw, or write some artful prose – tap into your late-night creativity and imagination. Clear this brain space for a more enjoyable evening and better sleep. 

Journal For 20 Minutes: Write out your feelings on a blank page or use a guided journal prompt. Practice some shadow work if you’re up to it. My favorite shadow work journal is linked HERE. 

Stretch & Meditate: Take 5 minutes – on your couch or bed – to do some light, full-body stretches and a 5-10 minute meditation to relax your body and mind. 

Read A Book: Choose a captivating philosophy, psychology, self-help, or a spicy novel. Try to read at least 10 pages daily to seduce your mind one last time before bed.

Make Bedtime Alluring: Have comfortable, loose pajamas, soft and clean sheets – both in smooth, luxurious fabrics – grazing your skin. Keep the room cool. Use a cashmere-scented, lavender, or chamomile pillow spray if you choose. Indulge in self-pleasure to help relax your muscles. Recount joyous memories to soothe your mind, help you unwind, and ease into a restful slumber. 

[makethatelevenrings]

Stress Relief // B. Wayne x gn!reader

Requested? Yes!

Warnings: smut, 18+ ONLY. don’t sleep with your boss, folks. unless you’re married. but even then...you’re playing with fire.

Summary: Bruce is stressed as hell. You offer to help.

“Good morning, Mr. Wayne.”

His handsome face greeted you, his blue eyes tinged with amusement despite the boredom that painted his features. His full lips twisted up into a smirk as you approached the desk. Frustration ran through his shoulders, his muscles tense and his jaw clenched. He had a long night thanks to an Arkham breakout, but they had contained all of the Rogues. Bruce was, of course, frustrated by the fact that his added security measures on the asylum hadn’t prevented more havoc and destruction on the city.

And Bruce was forced to be a CEO today.

He was tired, stressed, and grumpy beyond belief. Which meant your job wasn’t just being his secretary for the day. You needed to get him to relax just a little bit before he broke another pen and you spent your afternoon mopping up ink.

“Good morning,” he said tightly. “What’s on the agenda for the day?”

“Your next meeting isn’t for another three hours so that gives you plenty of time to review budget reports for this quarter. Mr. Fox wanted me to remind you that he needs your signature on these by the end of the day.”

Bruce grunted in response and glared at the stack of papers you laid on his desk. Sighing, you stepped back from his desk and crossed your arms over your chest.

“Alright, you big oaf. It’s time to stop moping.”

One of his eyebrows raised and he tilted his head to the side, eyes narrowed and lips pursed. Your lips twitched up into a smirk and you shook your head.

“You’re angry and that’s distracting you. You need to relax, Bruce. I know that’s close to impossible for you, but at least make an effort.”

“How can I relax right now?” he snapped. You shrugged and turned your back to him. You strode over to the door to his office and glanced over your shoulder at him as you reached out and snapped the lock shut, keeping out anyone who might want to enter. Slowly, you turned on the balls of your feet and leaned back against the door.

“I have an idea, sir,” you hummed. Bruce leaned back in his chair, his eyes darkening as he figured out your plan. You slowly approached him and he turned in his chair as you came around to his side of the desk.

Your knees hit the cool tile floor of his office and you came face to face with the tent in his woolen slacks. Tentatively, you slid your fingers around the zipper and pulled it down. Bruce reached out, his fingers brushing along your jaw in delicate strokes as you glanced up at him from under your lashes. His breath hitched at the sight of your innocent gaze contrasting with the way you unbuttoned his pants and tugged down his briefs, letting his dick spring free.

“Let me help you relax, sir,” you murmured. His hand slid to the back of your neck and he tugged you closer, your lips ghosting over his shaft. You licked a solid stripe on the underside of his cock and he hissed in pleasure, his eyes falling shut.

Pressing a kiss to the tip, your next move was to take the head of his cock between your lips. You hooked one hand around his ankle for leverage and rested your other hand on his thigh, feeling the strong muscle flex and tighten under the thick fabric of his pants.

Bobbing your head up and down, you quickly gained a rhythm and an inch each time you went down. Your throat relaxed as you took him into your mouth and you only gagged slightly once his thick cock hit the back of your throat. The tightening of your hot mouth around him caused Bruce to thrust up into your mouth and you welcomed it with a moan.

Spit and drool pooled in your cheeks and dripped down your lips. You hollowed your cheeks and sucked him tighter. A surge of pride filled your chest at his low, choked out moan. Bruce Wayne was always a man in control, except when it came to you.

His balls tightened up and you readied yourself just in time for his cum to coat your throat. The salty taste of him would be ingrained on your tongue and in your mind for the rest of the day. You pulled yourself off his cock with a wet pop and swollen lips. Bruce grabbed your jaw and pulled you in for a bruising kiss.

“Feel better, sir?” you panted when he pulled away.

“You certainly motivated me to get through this work quickly, sweetheart,” he growled. Bruce tucked himself back into his briefs and did up his pants as you stood up on shaky legs. He caught you by your waist as you stumbled slightly and pulled you into his lap, your chest flush against his.

“Thank you,” Bruce murmured.

“It’s my job.”

“I’m pretty sure HR would disagree,” he muttered. You snickered and patted his chest where a thin silver band dangled from a chain necklace he wore, resting perfectly over his heart.

“Good thing they’ll never know. Now, c’mon. Get to it, Mr. Wayne.” You stood up and straightened out your clothes. “Because I have it on good authority that the house will be completely empty when we get home tonight.”

He groaned and buried his head in his hands. “You’re evil.”

“Oh, you knew what you were getting into when you married me, Wayne. Too late to back out now.”

He watched as you unlocked his door and headed out to man your desk in front of his office. Warmth flooded through his chest as he thought about the small, dainty ring that rested on your left hand. He had a few secrets from the world and you were by far the most precious.

Tag list: @someoneimsure​ @perpetual-fangirl900​ @visagebrise​ @alexxavicry​

[healthmonastery]

Battling Bacne: Getting Rid of Back Acne and Getting Clear Skin!!

Hey there, lovely readers! Are you tired of your skin throwing a wild bacne party on your back? Well, fret not, because we’re about to dive into the world of bacne and bring you the ultimate guide to kicking those pesky pimples to the curb! Say goodbye to the struggle and hello to radiant, clear skin – it’s time to unmask the culprit and explore some game-changing treatment options. Bacne…

[exquisiteserotonin]

Precious Possessions

Next Chapter

The day is here! The one I hope some of you have been waiting for, the first chapter of my first Dave York fic. I hope you love it as much as I love writing it!

Series Summary: Defense intelligence conferences are always the same informative but also always boring. You didn't expect anything different for this one, but an unexpected meeting with a man named Dave York, changes the trajectory of your conference experience and maybe even more.

Rating/Warnings: This chapter is MA, no smut yet, build up and tension are the name of the game

Word Count: 3.5K

A/N: Also used this song for a little bit of inspiration -

Chapter 1: When He Sees Me

“If you have any more questions or comments, I’ve got my official contact information here,” you spoke clearly as you pointed to the screen behind you, “thank you for your time.”

You shouldn’t have been surprised with the number of attendees at your breakout session. The use of AI in defense intelligence continued to be the hot topic in the intelligence community especially for this year’s conference. You hadn’t spent years of nearly sleepless nights and exhausting mornings with development and research to not be considered one of the foremost experts on the subject.

Professionalism and a line of people eager to speak with you prevented you from leaving when you wanted. You scanned the room full of individuals in stuffy business suits and some in even stuffier medal-decorated uniforms. If you didn’t hold your breath, you’d pass out from the stench of testosterone-fueled arrogance.

“So when I think about AI, the pattern analysis and the information clusters---I kind of get how it makes our jobs easier, in theory,” you heard a voice laden with contemplation but also with condescension say.

You were crouched on the ground packing up your laptop, power cord, and briefcase eager to leave. You stretched your fingers and then closed them into tight fists before opening them again. Tension filled your shoulders, chest, and back as you zipped your briefcase. You took a deep, cooling breath through your nose, holding it in and letting it expand in your lungs until swirling notes of calm slowly began to circulate within you.

“But?” You looked up, slowly releasing the calming air from your lips. When you stood up, you were taken aback by the sight of a roguishly handsome man.

He stood before you, both hands on his hips in a posture that aimed to imbue you with intimidation at his authority. You held his brown-eyed stare with your own, always looking for an excuse to use your well-honed observation skills. He wore a well-fitting, but simultaneously well-used navy blue suit, worn just enough that you assumed he reserved it especially for conferences. You concluded that he be must upper-level management with a defense contractor, but more likely a high-level manager at an intelligence agency.

“I think AI’s shortcoming is its innate lack of understanding of human behavior,” he stated with a shrug. “A lack of human perception means you can’t analyze and decipher intent and it can’t interpret how we make decisions based on feeling, based on interpersonal communication.”

“You assume that this is a problem that’s not being taken into consideration,” the urge to defend your work was palpating in your veins. “More funding and support is needed for human analysts; how else do you think innovation would move forward?”

He took his right hand and rubbed the side of his face, while smoothing the side of his brown hair. His expression was full of collected calm paired with a confidence that you somehow suspected was well-earned. That pissed you off the most. He clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth and lips curled up into a smirk, revealing a dimple on his right cheek on his clean-shaven face.

“Hmm,” he murmured, keeping his eyes on you like it was a challenge he had to win, “your misplaced hostility speaks volumes.”

A tightness grew in your shoulders and rose to your neck from the nerve of his words. You clenched your jaw, your tongue pressing tightly at the roof of your mouth behind your teeth.

“But not quite as loud as your misogyny,” the words left your mouth before you could stop yourself. “Enjoy the rest of the conference.”

You glided away, disallowing him the chance to introduce or explain himself. You shook hands with attendees while giving away dazzling smiles as you made your escape. It was easy to weave through the crowd, as most people found ways to linger and speak to good friends and long-lost acquaintances. That was just how international conferences worked.

Fortune was in your favor as you found solace in an elevator. You backed yourself into one of the corners, continuing to people watch as more conference-attendees entered. You noted a man in his mid-to-late 50s, his graying blonde hair cut close to his head and his blue uniform filled with rows of medals and insignias. He was followed by a couple, who appeared to be trying their hardest to hide their intimacy with each other through closed-off, professional postures. But you knew better. The way they looked at each other screamed at you that they used this annual conference to conduct their long-standing affair.

A groan nearly escaped you, when you saw the same man who approached you after your presentation. His eyes were alight with intense determination and his brows knitted towards each other, creasing the space just above his nose. A tight intensity settled over your chest and neck as you backed yourself further into your corner of the elevator. The unremitting concentration that inhabited his eyes gave you the distinct feeling of being hunted. You tried as fast as you could to avert your eyes away from him. The dimple that revealed itself in the errant grin he gave you when his eyes met yours told you that you failed. 

You made every attempt to affect disinterest, placing hyper focus on your phone, examining the cuticles of every single one of your nails, even staring at the floor. You barely paid attention as the people you shared the elevator with exit at their floor. Not even the surreptitious couple, who you assumed left the elevator at the same time. Inevitably, the handsome and arrogant stranger was the only one who remained.

“I think we may have gotten off on the wrong foot,” you heard him say.

“Hm?” You could feel your brow beginning to furrow as your attitude fought against your level-headedness to gain control. “I’m sorry?”

“You called me a misogynist,” Dave reminded you with a smirk, speaking of it as a badge he wore with honor.

“Oh yes, that’s right,” you sighed the sarcasm dripping from every word, “and I’m hostile.”

“No,” the voice he spoke with was calculating and unmoving, “I said you had hostility, and you took it upon yourself to assume that I was a misogynist.”

“Semantics,” you said your voice was quick like it was jumping from a trap.

“I’m not the kind of man stupid enough to belittle someone’s life’s work,” he raised his hands up as if he was conceding to you, “especially when she’s clearly brilliant.”

You narrowed your eyes at him as he spoke those words, trying to decipher if there was some kind of hidden meaning or intent behind them. There was an air about him that commanded your attention. Perhaps it was the dichotomy that he seemed to present the further you observed him. He was competent yet personable, casual yet professional, and guarded but disarming. You worked through these thoughts in your mind as the whirring of the elevator took over as it continued upward.

“Well, at least you’re smart enough to know when you’ve made a mistake,” you said with a nod of your head.

“Are you going to the networking social?”

You weren’t certain if he was simply curious or was inviting you.

“Oh god no,” you were quick to answer with a loud groan, almost too loud, “that’s just not my thing.”

The handsome stranger shrugged, “They’re usually filled with self-righteous assholes, anyway.”

The accuracy and the irony of his statement bubbled up laughter from your belly. A feeling made of confusion, guilt, and absurdity came over you as you felt yourself beginning to let your guard down. He wasn’t supposed to apologize. He wasn’t supposed to be interesting or intriguing. He should have just been a one-dimensional, arrogant asshole.

“Well,” you spoke, an unexpected grin forming on your lips, “looks like we might actually be on the same page this time.”

He held his hand out and offered you a smile full of purpose. “I’m Dave, Dave York, D.I.A.”

The immediacy with which you gave him your name surprised you. As he shook your hand you noted a slight awkwardness to his grip, though you could tell he was making every effort to give you a strong handshake. The skin on the inside of his palm and his fingertips were slightly weathered with scar tissue. You noticed the cold feeling of metal on his left-hand ring finger and took note of the wedding ring, trying not to frown. A corner of your brain wondered about the stories that could be found in the lines of those weathered hands.

“Hmm, D.I.A.,” you murmur to yourself. “Was following me to the elevator just your creepy way of getting me to talk shop with you?”

“You think I’d be that obvious?” His voice lowered an octave when he turned to face you and a chill tingled all over you.

“Well I don’t know you,” you replied with a shrug, “but I’d say if you were, you’d be pretty shitty at your job.”

“You’ve got a mouth on you don’t you, firefly,” he said, his brow lowering as he took one step toward you.

His hands tightened on his hips as he stepped toward you and he squared his shoulders behind him. Your brain took stock of each movement, at each attempt to make himself seem bigger and you seem smaller. A wicked little laugh brewed inside your abdomen as you accepted his challenge, moving one inch forward. You were close enough to breathe in his scent and your gaze moved from his neck, up to his lips and then to his eyes. 

“When you’re a woman in the IC, you’ve got to find ways to adapt; it’s nothing personal.”

An unremorseful apology. 

The elevator bell rang out with a loud ding.

“This is my stop,” holding your gaze to him, neither of you moved

“Maybe we’ll run into each other again sometime this week.”  

“Maybe,” you agreed with the tilt of your head, that felt almost too flirty to you. “Enjoy the rest of your conference.

“You too,” he affirmed as he pulled his phone from his pocket, quickly becoming engrossed by a text message that you suspected was from his spouse.

Slight disappointment set in that you could not continue the conversation, but your exhaustion was quickly winning out. Your eyelids and muscles felt heavy as they screamed louder for rest. You ambled to your room and as you opened the door you immediately kicked off your high heels and shook your arms out of your blazer, tossing it on the bed. You walked back to the bathroom and reached into the shower, turning the dial towards hot. Mindlessly, you began unbuttoning your light coral blouse when you heard a knock at your room door. An audible sigh of frustration left you as you quickly turned the water off.

Who could possibly have any reason to bother me right now, you thought to yourself, using the peephole to look outside.

“Hey, it’s me,” you saw and heard your coworker from the other side of the door, “Brad.”

You took a deep breath, making your annoyance before opening the door.

“Hi, Brad,” you greeted tentatively, “everything OK?” 

“Oh yeah, everything is fine,” he replied with a grin that was too perfectly and polished. “Heard you did a good job on your presentation.”

“Heard?” You said with a raised brow.

“That’s the word from all the guys I’ve run into who attended,” he explained leaning against your doorway. “They were really impressed with you.”

A wave of exhaustion immediately took over your shoulders and you stepped back. You felt inconvenienced and nearly disgusted as you observed Brad’s eyes meet yours but travel down the length of your body. Every word that left him wrapped you in disgust.  The perfection that he displayed reeked of privilege. He was the typical aging former college frat boy and it did nothing for you. The entitlement he wore on his shoulders might as well have been a flashing, neon sign shouting out that he could get away with anything. 

“That’s cool,” you say quickly, inching closer and closer to shutting the door. “Well, I’m going to finish up some reports and turn in; I am beat.”

“What?” he stared back at you in confusion. “It’s not even 6 yet, and happy hour’s just started.”

“And you are much better at rubbing shoulders with the bigwigs, B,” you compliment hoping it would make him leave faster. “Work that magic of yours. Happy-hour it and let me know how it goes?”

You shut the door quickly hoping that you left him dumbfounded.

With him gone you were able to return to all the things you planned to bring you relaxation. You returned to the shower, the water warming quickly. The warmth of the water encompassed you, easing the tension of your neck, shoulders, and back muscles. You stepped out, wrapping yourself in a towel. The next hours were perfectly mundane. You wrapped yourself in a hotel robe, had a light dinner, read for fun, and basked in your nightly skincare routine. Before you knew it you had fallen asleep in your bathrobe with the tv on.

You woke up with a start, your brain hazy with confusion. Rolling over, you were greeted with the bright light of the alarm clock sitting on the nightstand. 12:12 AM. You weren’t even sure what time you had fallen asleep. You nestled yourself back into the bed, trying to will the white noise of the air conditioner and soft fullness of the down comforter to lull you back to sleep. Instead, you found yourself tossing and turning and very much awake.

With frustration, you pull on a pair of high-waisted sweatpants and a yellow tank top, layering your navy-blue blazer over it to appear at least halfway decent. You took one last look at yourself in the mirror, brushing fingers through your hair before securing it into a messy French twist with one of your hair clips. A puff of air left from your lips as you chuckled at yourself.

Don’t be ridiculous, you thought to yourself. You’re not trying to impress anybody.

The silence of the empty halls amplified the echo of your light footsteps towards the elevator. You waited patiently, with arms crossed until you found yourself on the ground level of the hotel. Relief washed over you when you noticed that the hotel bar was less busy than you expected. The bartender attended to you quickly filling your order of a whiskey, allowing you to find a quiet corner booth to enjoy your drink.  The bar was open to the lobby and allowed you to people watch as you took slow sips of your drink. You glanced at your watch.

12:57 am. No one interesting is going to walk through those doors at this hour.

You took another sip of your drink, letting the smokiness coat your lips, tongue, and the back of your throat with sweet burn before you looked up again, noticing a familiar, handsome face walk through the lobby doors. Dave. He was rubbing his hands from the cold December air and his brown hair was covered in a dark gray beanie. You kept your eyes on him, thinking he wouldn’t notice until he locked eyes with you and raised his right arm with a wave. He stopped, shuffling his feet beneath him with indecision until he began to walk towards the bar, towards you.

“We meet again,” you greeted, gesturing for him to take a seat across from you. “Back late, I see.”

“Ah, yeah,” he acknowledged his arrival as though it were an afterthought, “sometimes you get caught up with colleagues and you just don’t have a choice.”

“True,” you agreed, “I get it.”

“What about you?” He inquired, pointing towards your drink. “You’re up late.”

“Oh, yeah, I couldn’t sleep,” you admitted, taking another sip of it, “that’s why I look like this.”

You waved your hands towards yourself, trying to emphasize how completely unimpressive your appearance was. A chill overcame you as his expression changed, his brow furrowing almost scornfully.

“I don’t know about that,” his eyes reading every inch of you from your head all the way down to your toes, “you look…good.”

Goosebumps tiptoed up and down your arms, like little finger tips tapping and teasing you. You unconsciously crossed and uncrossed your legs, feeling the fabric of your underwear rub against you, your entrance welling with your own sweet dew. Your eyes took a split-second glimpse of his wedding ring. Against your better judgment, you allowed yourself to smile at his compliment. You traced the rim of your whiskey-filled lowball glass, thinking how to respond.

“Congratulations, you have eyes,” you quipped, coaxing a low, growling laugh from him before you continued. “So, I couldn’t sleep, and I came down here to people watch.”

He leaned forward at your comment, his brown eyes round and wide as he raised his eyebrows with interest. His shoulders loosened and his newly relaxed demeanor invited more conversation.

“You like that?” He asked, his brows raised with curiosity. “People watching, I mean.”

The double entendre that left his pouted lips electrified you, feeling his electricity unexpectedly flick at your nipples and then at your core. The dim lighting of the hotel bar, the light jazz music playing over the speakers, and your hushed voices amplified the mysterious ambience around you. All of it together seemed so perfect that you couldn’t help following his lead, so you leaned in closer. Even in a beanie and wearing a thick jacket, you found him nearly irresistible.

“It’s a favorite pastime of mine,” you answered, keeping your eyes on him, “I like to think about people’s stories, people’s personal stories.”

“Is that why you were looking at me, observing me?” His tone dipped in a thin layer of accusation coupled with intense interest. “Trying to figure out my story?”

You stare back at him with a deep breath, wondering why you kept engaging when you knew you should stop.

“I’m not surprised you noticed,” you stated nonchalantly, “as unsurprised as you probably are about me wondering about your wedding ring.”

He strained his left hand open and closed, looking at his own ring as though it was a triviality. To your surprise, he leaned toward you even more, like a challenge.

“You know there’s a lot more to people’s stories than what you can piece together from a fleeting observation,” as he spoke, it felt like his charisma was vibrating off him and floating towards you. “Life, relationships are messy, complicated.”

 You read the unspoken words that uttered from the moves of his body. One hand resting open in the empty space between you in the booth. The fingers of his other hand rubbing at his chin and lips, which curled into an enticing smile. These movements and these words lingered in your brain, until you understood that they were filled with intrigue and desire. You breathed them in and mirrored them.

“So what about your story Dave,” you inquired, leaning in but making sure you kept your eyes to his, “your life, your relationship?”

You found yourself involuntarily licking your lips. The whiskey along with the heat of embarrassment flushed your cheeks and neck. It had you finally admitting to yourself that this man was really fucking attractive. He tilted his head towards you, smiled, and damn near melted you as he traced the bottom of his pouty lips with his thumb. Your eyes tracing every move of his immense, sinewy hands, as he checked the time on his gold watch.

1:47 AM.

“It’s too late right now to tell you that,” he teased, drawing a slight huff of frustration from you, “Ask me tomorrow night, here at the bar. 7:30.”

“How presumptuous of you to assume I’d be available,” you said, tipping your whiskey towards him, impressed by his ability to avoid answering a hard question.  

 “Oh firefly, you’re not the only one who’s good at reading people,” the words left his lips luring you and trapping you like a vice. “Nothing about this tells me you’ll say no.”

Dave gestured at the narrow space between you, his hand almost cutting through the warm air like a sharp blade. The innuendo of his words threatened to set you ablaze. You took another sip of whiskey, allowing it to warm and loosen your muscles, allowing it to calm you.

“Well then,” you willed yourself to hold your tongue lightly against your lips before breathing out the last word, “tomorrow.”

With a nod of confirmation, he stood up and swaggered towards the elevators. An audible gasp that had been saving itself in your lungs escaped you when you knew for sure that he was gone. You chased it with a final gulp of your whiskey, feeling its exquisite burn as it moved through you. Leaving a tip on the table, you stood up and made your way towards the elevator.

Tomorrow night. Your brain spoke to you again.

At that moment the elevator doors opened, and you entered. You returned to your room, discarding your blazer and sweat pants, before plopping into bed. You grabbed the fluffy comforter up to your chin, inviting in and surrendering to sleep.

[beautyandlifestyleblog86]

Say Goodbye To Acne Scars And Unlock Clear Skin

Acne scars can be a frustrating reminder of past breakouts, but fear not! With the proper skincare routine and the power of niacinamide, retinol, azelaic acid, and AHA/BHA, you can fade those scars and achieve the clear skin you've always desired. In this article, we'll explore how these incredible ingredients work their magic and provide you with an easy-to-follow routine for achieving optimal results.

Niacinamide: The Skin's Best Friend

Niacinamide, also known as vitamin B3, is a superstar ingredient when it comes to fading acne scars. This potent antioxidant helps reduce inflammation, regulate sebum production, and improve skin texture. Incorporate a niacinamide serum into your routine to reap its benefits. Apply a few drops after cleansing and before moisturizing for maximum effectiveness.

Retinol: The Holy Grail Of Skincare

Retinol, derived from vitamin A, is a game-changer for acne scars and overall skin health. This ingredient boosts collagen production, speeds up cell turnover, and reduces hyperpigmentation. Start with a low-concentration retinol product and gradually increase usage to avoid irritation. Apply it at night, after cleansing, and before moisturizing, and always wear sunscreen during the day, as retinol can increase sun sensitivity.

Azelaic Acid: The Brightening Warrior

Azelaic acid is a multitasking ingredient that not only fades acne scars but also helps with redness, hyperpigmentation, and acne itself. This gentle exfoliant unclogs pores, reduces inflammation, and brightens the skin. Look for a 10-20% concentration product and apply it after cleansing, followed by moisturizer. Remember to patch test first to ensure compatibility with your skin.

AHA/BHA: The Dynamic Duo

Alpha hydroxy acids (AHAs) and beta hydroxy acids (BHAs) are exfoliating powerhouses that work wonders on acne scars. AHAs, such as glycolic acid, help fade scars by gently removing dead skin cells and promoting cell turnover. BHAs, like salicylic acid, penetrate deeper into the pores, reducing inflammation and preventing future breakouts. Incorporate these acids into your routine 2-3 times a week, starting with a lower concentration and gradually increasing as your skin adjusts.

In Conclusion

Achieving clear skin and fading acne scars is within your reach with the help of niacinamide, retinol, azelaic acid, and AHA/BHA. Remember to introduce these ingredients gradually into your routine and always patch-test new products. Consistency is vital, so be patient and give your skin time to adjust. Embrace this powerful skincare routine, and soon enough, you'll be saying goodbye to acne scars and hello to a radiant, flawless complexion!

Note: For personalized skincare advice, consult with us for a tailored skincare routine

[lookingforcactus]

Verin and the Jailbreak: Breaking down Verin's brilliant not-lies

Verin, to Leane: The Amyrlin requires your strength to protect Cairhien.

Actually, nothing in this says that the Amyrlin told her anything! Cairhien is under a huge, fiery attack by unknown forces, coincidentally just as they've captured the Dragon. I think it would be easy enough to argue that the Amyrlin requires the strength of all of the Aes Sedai there in order to protect Cairhien, especially depending on how thoroughly Verin is mentally defining "protect." Like, for example, if they wanted to prevent any more fires from being set or anyone else from dying, they presumably WOULD need every Aes Sedai they could get, even if they don't know it's Lanfear, bc more people are dying each minute. And after all, there's a lot of explosions and those explosions are clearly heading toward the Aes Sedai!

Verin, to Leane, con't.: I've been told to watch the boy.

And as for "I've been told to watch the boy," she doesn't say who told her. She could've asked her Warder or the other Brown Sister "Hey, do me a favor and tell me to watch the boy." It gets repeated back, and boom, statement true. Possibly, with that phrasing, Verin could've even gotten away with saying it to herself in the mirror or something.

Verin, to Leane, con't.: This is an order, Leane Sedai

Verin doesn't say who's giving the order. Really, anyone can give an order - it's just that only some people can give orders and actually be listened to. Who's to say Verin isn't just doing the ordering herself, here? Alternately, "Watch the boy" was the order that VERIN'S been told. "Order" could easily refer to the statement given to Verin, not the (completely implied) "Go help the Amyrlin," though that's clearly what Leane hears. And in addition to my speculation about "I've been told to watch the boy," it's entirely plausible that Siuan told or ordered all of the Aes Sedai to watch (generic) and make sure Rand doesn't get out, or that she specifically ordered that to Verin (and possibly any others) as an Aes Sedai who WASN'T going up to the wall for the battle

Verin, to Leane, con't: I'll take his shield.

This one's much clearer. Verin says that she'll TAKE his shield, not that she'll keep the shield up! And she does indeed take over the shield on Rand before releasing him!

Right after that, Leane passes the shield to Verin and says, "Don't let her [Moiraine] get close to you." Leane leaves right after saying that, and Verin doesn't respond. Door closes.

Moiraine: You are very clever with your words, sister.

This is a very Aes Sedai compliment lol. And anyway, there's nothing actually clever about just lying, for an Aes Sedai. After all, if you can just say something that's wrong, you don't need to do any of the very careful and cunning word/general manipulation that all of the other Aes Sedai have to do in order to mislead people

And then...breakout time! Cue lots of fires, lots of running, and Siuan looking Very, Very, Very Dismayed

[immortal-lov3r]

sophies glow up guide.. (simple)

this has been a work in progress for over 2 weeks! ive been procrastinating to get this done, so im excited to share this with you! DISCLAIMER i am not professionalised in this! i am only giving out advice on whats worked for me.

want to glow up? but dont know where to start? well here is your simple glow up guide, we will go over-

health

hygiene

skincare

attitude and mindset

this will be your basic glow up guide, simple and easy to read and follow with.

health and nutrition:

your health is one of the most important things in your life! It affects your physical, mental, and emotional well-being. that's why it's so important to be productive about your health and try to prevent illness and disease etc.

fitness:

im not going to deep within this as your fitness levels are based on personal experience and i recommend to consult a doctor before doing an extreme amount of exercise.

rather than aiming 10k steps as people ask you too, start aiming for 5k, its obtainable for a busy person or someone who doesn't walk as much, overall walking is very beneficial.

if you have ability join a sport, dance and or gym! they keep you healthy and fit and can be super fun!

try a simple workout, pilates, dance, yoga biking, running etc, there are lots of youtube videos and even apps for workouts.

if you can walk places, as i said its very beneficial for your health and keeps your in shape.

nutrition:

I'm not going to go super deep into this, as no diet fits everyone and please consult with your doctor before taking dieting or anything like that seriously.

slowing start eating healthy, you can still eat your cravings and have yummy meals just try to balance out your diet with healthy foods, good fats, carbohydrates, protein, sugar and bad fats.

eat less sugar. sugar has many reasons why its bad for you to have over your daily intake so try to eat less sugars while still eating your fav treats!

dont skip breakfast! i know people saying doing omad (one meals a day) is good for you and skipping breakfast can befit weight lose, but no, breakfast is one of the most important meals so use it for high protein and fibre meals .

eat more friut and veg, simple as that.

hygiene:

hygiene is so important because it is what keeps you clean and healthy. hygiene should be one of your top priorities for your day. hygiene effects how people think of you, what you think for yourself etc.

brush your teeth well! brushing your teeth well keeps your breathe smelling good, clean teeth.

wash your body- washing your body with soap and or body wash and sometimes even a nice body butter can keep you clean and smelling good.

look after your skin- find out your skin type and get a cleanser for your skin type. find out if silicon based or water based is better for you skin.

skincare:

skincare is such a hard thing to ace! here is a simple routine and tips for you to ace your skincare. skincare is meant to help cleanse your skin and leave your skin feeling amazing.

routines:

cleanse - take a few minutes to cleanse your skin, even a simple micellar water will get rid of will get rid of makeup and dirt.

toner - toning is a great thing to use to help refresh skin especially if it includes ingredients like witch hazel which helps tightens pores.

serum- a plain hydration serum or some hyloronic acid etc will be enough to keep your skin looking going through your day

moisturiser- this is what keeps your skin moisturised for the day or can give you breakouts so be careful you pick the right one for your skin type look out for ingredients like Vitamin E, glycerin, Pro-Vitamin B5, and borage Seed Oil, which are all great moisturisers for your skin. 

attitude and mindset:

mindset:

believing that you can grow, change, and improve is the best mindset to have, if you settle once you've done something and never try to accomplish greater you will have little success in life.

goal-setting mindset.

knowing what you want and willing yourself to reach it are two different things. when you know your goals, they motivate you. set high goals and don't stop until you reach them.

focused mindset.

one of the worst setbacks that can happen is losing focus and allowing procrastination to happen. discipline is the bridge between goals and accomplishment.

positive mindset.

choosing to be positive and having a good attitude will determine a lot about your life. be positive, not passive. instead of giving yourself reasons why you can't or shouldn't, give yourself reasons why you can and should go for it.

attitude:

positive attitude

a positive attitude is more than just smiling often and acting cheerful when others are around. it’s a way of looking at the world with optimism and hopefulness, where others would only see obstacles and dead ends. 

be kind to yourself

work on self improvement

step back and focus on goals

spend time with nature

talk to other people / meet new people

act with a purpose

be around positive people

thank you for reading this far! <3 i hope you enjoyed.!

i am always open to suggestions for my posts, my dms are open <3

[boxingcleverrr]

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

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

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

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

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

Fucking moisturize.

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

Washing:

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

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

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

Goops:

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

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

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

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

Oil:

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

Treat Yourself Tier:

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

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

General Habits:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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