#theoasis

[theoasistribe]

Late TMIT: Have your character(s) describe themselves in one sentence or less. Then repeat the process OOC as their creator!

Gryff smiles "I am a wonderful ray of annoying sunshine, here to bring joy and good times." He can be very insecure and needs reassurance a lot that he is better than he views himself. Wen'dehgo snorts "A horrid sin against nature..." He needs hugs and love and has had one heck of a rough past. Thanks for the question!

[clubstyleeurope]

#cse • @connorfxdb Stay Gold 🐴 📷 @kr.digitalmedia . #metzeler #memphisshades #lyndallbrakes #tti #twistedtindustries #tbrvtwin #gpsuspension #pro1performance #dragspecialties #austin #atx #canon #canonphotography #streetphotography #lifestylephotography #eosr #theoasis #texas #travel #destination #summer #scorpionexo #saddlemen #sscycle #feulingparts https://www.instagram.com/p/CevSBGdoVGa/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[happyrealities]

Titled: Strength About it. Little “i”.

I think he likes you…

Don’t laugh at that.

I didn’t.

This is serious.

Laaaddiiiesss!

Oh I hit him.

“Waaaahhh waaaahhh wah”

That was a grown man.

Disappeared.

I didn’t. Heart.

[coldwellbankerswap]

New Launch! ✨

Palmiera at The Oasis  by Emaar

Why Palmiera? 

✅A unique residential development that offers a tranquil haven nestled amidst Dubai’s vibrant landscape. 

✅Residential units masterfully designed for seamless integration with the natural environment, emphasizing comfort and a deep connection to stunning surroundings. 

✅World-class amenities, enhancing residential luxury and convenience, and ensuring residents have access to the finest comforts and services. 

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🏘️4-Bedroom Villas 

🏘️5-Bedroom Villas 

Amenities : 

✅Community parks ✅Pocket parks ✅Playgrounds ✅Sports and fitness facilities Wellness and spa facilities 

✅Outdoor tracks for jogging & cycling Pools ✅Beaches ✅Mosques 

✅Schools 

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📞 Call us at 800 CBSWAP / 058 900 9747 to know more details!

📱 WhatsApp : https://wa.me/971589009747

🔗 Link in bio

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#coldwellbankerswap #coldwellbankeruae #coldwellbanker #emaar #theoasis #palmiera #comingsoon #Dubai #mydubai #dubailife #realestate #property #dubaiproperties  #propertyinvestment #forsale #propertyforsale #investment #investmentmanagement #realestate #offplandubai #dubai

[raredankart]

If ur in Miami and u got an xtra ticket to see charli xcx tonight for wynwood pride, lmk please because I can’t afford $80 but I still wanna party… . Like this little video I made and Doja said “I could be fucking something” . . . #charlixcx #wynwood #miamilife #oasis #dojacat #singing #pridemonth #pride #kissmemore #gayboy #gay #gaymen #latine #tropicalvibes #goodvibes #goodvibesonly #nightlife #miaminights #theoasis #gaymiami #inviteme #takemeout #showmeagoodtime #goodtimes #loveislove #sweaty #gayotter #gaytwink #beardedmen #grindr (at Wynwood Walls & Art District, Miami) https://www.instagram.com/p/CQRkCTIB1ty/?utm_medium=tumblr

[aslsuzyq]

A beautiful getaway in #Texas at #LakeTravis #TheOasis is do #beautiful ....#asl #americansignlanguage #deafandproud #signlanguage #deaf #hoh #hearingaids #deaftalent #deafcreator #youtubecreator #tiktokcreator #ASLSuzyQ #chronicillness #rsd #cholesteatoma #chiari #eds #painwarrior #deafcommunity #deafculture #deafawareness #deafpride #rarediseases #pacemaker #crps https://www.instagram.com/p/CPZ7iuahtUA/?utm_medium=tumblr

[slightlyxawkwardxcactus]

I finally got some dinosaur eggs in Stardew Valley.🙂

[fierypen37]

The Oasis

Here you have a plot fragment I’ve been kicking around. Held Captive takes precedence, but this is fun to play with.

‘The Oasis’ was a rather pretentious name for a glorified hole-in-the wall, she thought. Then again, as one of the most recognizable faces in the known world, such places could be counted upon for their discretion. Crammed between a seedy tavern and an even seedier lawyer’s office, The Oasis sat in a neglected shopping district on Visenya’s Hill. A perfect place to escape her life. The pressures of running her own law practice in addition to her family’s billion-crown conglomerate, her fiancé Daario, her miserable brother Viserys . . . Pain throbbed between her shoulder blades and at the base of her skull, urging her beyond her prevaricating. Missy would help. Missy always helped.

Daenerys shoved open the heavy wooden door, embraced by the cool, humming quiet of the foyer. The cool of central air was a breath of relief after the sticky heat of the day. A water feature bubbled in the corner, soft strains of harp music floated in the air. The counter was empty, despite the tinkle of the door’s bell giving away her entry. Daenerys frowned, her body strung taut as piano wire.

Her lone ally on the Board of Trustees, Tyrion Lannister, flicked a card on her desk three weeks ago with conspiratorial wink. It was a memorable occasion, she remembered. Her face was splashed across newspapers and magazines, photographers of dubious reputation swearing she had sacked Daario for cheating . . . again. The wedding had taken on a demented life of its own, her brother snidely offering the hall of their old family estate on Dragonstone to hold the boatloads of the King’s Landing elite planning to attend. In Meereen, the Harpy Triumvirate shirked her injunction on human trafficking. Company stock had taken a dip in light of the scandal revolving around her COO Cersei Lannister and her brother Jamie. That, plus three nights without a wink of sleep had led Daenerys to find some very creative words for the Meereenese chief officer seated across the arbitrating table from her.

At first, Daenerys had taken umbrage at Tyrion’s casual implication. Nothing raised her hackles more than some idiot implying it was ‘her time of the month’ when her temper soured. Over morning tea, brewed strong and sweetened with sugar, Tyrion reassured her that this place had maintained his sanity during his time in government work. Daenerys took his advice with some reluctance.

Missy’s soft hands and patient touch worked years of tension from her body. Daenerys had made it a weekly ritual. Sometimes twice weekly, if her schedule allowed. It became a craving, to replace the sweet Lysene cigarettes she quit for the last time three days ago. Shae, The Oasis’ proprietor, was an ex-girlfriend of Tryion’s, with a certain low humor and disarming demeanor that Daenerys admired.  

Shae emerged from the dim recesses of an inner office.

“Miss Targaryen, we did not have you scheduled today,” she said, a soft accent smoothing the syllables. Daenerys managed a weak smile.

“I need an hour. Please,” she said. Tension sent bolts of pain up into her skull, the edges of her vision pulsed red. Shae’s finely shaped eyebrows puckered.

“Missy isn’t here. She and Grey had an appointment with the fertility doctor today,” Shae said. Daenerys’ fists curled, and, absurdly, tears gathered in her eyes. The hope of relief snatched away was almost unbearable. Daenerys gave a nod, blinking away moisture.

“May I sit a moment?”

“Of course. May I fetch you some water? Tea?” Shae asked.

“Yes. Tea, thank you,” she said.

Daenerys sank into one of the overstuffed chairs, kneading the back of her neck beneath the coil of her braid. She rolled her neck, listening to the vertebrae crunch like tires on gravel. The soft trickle of the water feature reminded her of Dragonstone, where no matter how high you climbed, the ocean was never far away. Once, she and Vis splashed in the shallows in summer . . . it felt as if it belonged in another lifetime.

A glance at the magazines on the table featured a picture of Margaery Tyrell, the lovely and glamorous actress, and her beau Robb Stark on a yacht on the Sunset Sea. Another bore the image of her own face, looking harried and irritated as she barked into her cell. The headline read: Dragon CEO Fallen Off Cloud Nine?    

“Tea, my dear,” Shae said. Daenerys accepted the foam cup of hot tea with murmured thanks. She savored the rich, spicy mix as it slid down her throat. It was Braavosi if she remembered right.

“Rough day?” Shae asked. Daenerys smirked, gesturing to the array of magazines.

“I’m sure you’ve read of a more interesting sequence of events,” she said dryly. Shae gave a graceful shrug, the fitted gold-hued sweater clinging to her sleek curves.

“That magazine is a rag, but at least it’s entertaining. You know retreats to the Summer Isles are all the rage this summer, yeah?” Daenerys gave a reluctant snort of laughter, polishing off the last of the tea.

“I do have another masseur if you would prefer. He trained with Missy,” Shae said. Daenerys frowned.

“He?”

“Yes, he’s excellent. Knowledgeable, perfectly professional.”

Her first instinct was to refuse. Male attention had never been in short supply, not since she was thirteen. Public attention had hovered around her like an obnoxious glittery cloud since she was born. A wealthy heiress from an old and influential family like her mother marrying the mercurial and charming politician Aerys Targaryen had turned heads, and tongues wagged at the very public and sordid fallout of their divorce—made more torrid given her father’s tenure in public office.

Daenerys bowed her head and a knife of white-hot pain shot up the back of her neck. She blinked away tears, studying the ragged, bloody edges of her cuticles. A nervous habit, her mother had tried for years to break her of it. Daenerys exhaled a long, slow breath, caught between pain and embarrassment.

“I’ll book an hour,” she said. Shae patted her knee.

“You won’t regret it. Come on, you’ve earned some pampering.”

Shae led her to one of their rooms, and Daenerys felt her knees weaken at the thought of impending relief.

“I’ll get Jon. You get comfortable,” Shae said, squeezing her hand in passing.

“Thank you for working me in, Shae.”

“Think nothing of it, dear.”

The door shut behind her with a soft thump and Daenerys breathed a sigh. The soothing melody played through overhead speakers, the lighting dimmed to a golden ambiance. Daenerys stepped behind the changing screen and disrobed, shedding the flowing trousers in charcoal grey and black leather ankle boots, the sharp-shouldered suit jacket and ruffled crimson blouse. She paused to adjust the dragon pin on her velvet lapel, three dragons joined in a circle. Hastily she unwound her braids and tied her crimped hair into a sloppy bun.

Naked, she slipped under the sheet and blanket on the massage table. Gentle heat radiated from the table padded surface, a curved pillow supporting the backs of her knees. Daenerys screwed her eyes tight shut and tried the meditation techniques her counselor taught her, breathing in and out to a lengthening count of numbers. By the time her exhale reached eight, she heard a quiet knock.

“Come in,” she said, hating the way her voice warbled.

The sound of his step was muted by thick carpet, but soon there was a gentle tap on the table near her shoulder. Daenerys cracked open her eyes and was instantly grateful the dim light hid her expression. Jon was nothing like the sketchy image she imagined. Admittedly, she had little idea what a masseur should look like, but the muscled, rugged person that met her eye certainly didn’t fit her suppositions. Shaggy black hair tied back, a short beard framing full lips, and those eyes—gods, those sooty lashes and rich dark eyes could tempt any woman, magnified by the lenses of his glasses. Simple, wire-rimmed frames, the noseband a bit crooked. Her heartbeat quickened, suddenly feeling vulnerable beneath the fragile protection of the sheet.

“Miss Dany, my name is Jon. I’ll be your masseur for today. Are there any areas you’d like to work on?” She blinked at the name, dimly remembering that is an alias—albeit a thin one—she’d given Shae. His voice too, was full of surprises. A rich, deep voice holding the burr of the North.

“My . . . my neck and shoulders,” she said in a small voice. Jon nodded, his expression composed, polite. One curly strand of hair fell loose from its tie to hang in his face.

“And light to medium pressure?”

“Yes.”

“Warm towels ok?”

“Yes.”

“Would you like scalp massage, as well?”

“Um, ok.”

Jon nodded, scratching notes on a notepad. Something about his manner was disarming, Daenerys felt some of her trepidation evaporate.

“Ok. I’ll get started. Just let me know if you need anything,” he said. The lights dimmed even lower, to a murky half-dark. Daenerys felt the tension ratchet up between her shoulders, in anxiety or anticipation, she wasn’t sure. Jon settled on a stool above her head.

“Scoot a bit farther up. We’ll start with your scalp.” Clutching the sheet to her chest, Daenerys squirmed toward the upper edge of the table.

“Good. Right there. Just relax,” Jon said, cupping her head.

Thick fingers parted her hair, smoothing along her scalp with gentle pressure. Nerves tingled at the touch, a low fission of pleasure. His thumbs glided along the muscles around the base of her skull, then down to press firmly where her neck and head joined. Missy usually paid attention to her neck and back, murmuring poetry in Valyrian. Daenerys had learned the old language at her mother’s knee, and the lilt of its syllables was soothing. The talk was distraction enough to allow Daenerys to relax. But she found that Jon’s silence was comfortable rather than grating.

After several minutes of his unhurried work, Daenerys forgot her trepidation. His hands rubbed behind her ears, then his thumb moved up to press at the crest of her forehead. Pleasure melted through her like butter on a hot skillet. Daenerys bit back a cry. Gods, that felt good.

“The pressure ok?” Jon asked. Even, his voice was caress, low in tone, roughened by that subtle northern burr. Daenerys blinked her eyes open only to be swallowed by those wide, dark eyes. His gaze felt warm, intensely focused.

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s ok,” she said. Daenerys closed her eyes, determined not to open them again during their allotted hour. She was here to relax, not ogle her masseur. The table’s heater kicked on, a fine vibration beneath her.

Jon brushed her hair out of the way, and she heard a faint click. A wet glug and Jon’s warm, lotion-slicked hand smoothed down the back of her neck. Yes, the smooth glide, the soft perfume of lavender, the perfect pressure on those angry, painful knots in her muscles. Jon’s hands were very warm, and the texture just the slightest bit rough. So massage wasn’t his only job. Missy’s hands were soft as silk given all the lotion she used with her clients.

Little by little, Jon kneaded and pressed and smoothed and pinched until she lay pliant under his touch. He moved from her neck to her shoulders to her upper chest along her collarbones in smooth, even sweeps. There it was, that warm, floating place, beyond worry, beyond pain. Daenerys simply existed, soothed and tended by a man with magic hands and the face of a young god . . . Oh no. Gods, she didn’t need this now. She did not need to be attracted to her masseur.

“Dany, I’ll have you roll over now. Lay your head in the cushion,” Jon said.

Daenerys hurriedly obeyed, thankful to hide her burning face. She was perving on her masseur. This was the height of embarrassment. She should just end the session early and leave . . . a broken moan left her as Jon smoothed his hands down either side of her spine, pressing hard enough to shift muscles and undo hidden knots of tension. How hadn’t she noticed him peeling back the sheet to her waist? Daenerys’ fists clenched on the table, wishing she could melt into a puddle and drip away down a drain. She waited for the chuff of laughter, or an awkward fumbling away from the table. Neither happened. The silence was unbearable.

“Relax, Dany,” Jon’s voice said, quiet and unobtrusive. Tears of gratitude gathered at the corners of her eyes, hidden in the curve of the pillow. Even if his expression mocked her, she was grateful for his easy professionalism.

Jon’s hands performed delicate work, then followed by the broad even pressure of his forearms, smoothed by sweet-smelling lotion. Even the chafe of the hair on his arms was pleasant. A sparkling wave of feeling danced behind her eyes after each stroke, every nerve shivered in delight. A fine dew of sweat rose on her skin. She craved more, the heat sank in her blood like fever, on her skin, her back where he touched, her breasts, between her thighs . . .

Jon’s hands lifted from her skin and she nearly cried out at the loss. After a couple clicks and rustles in the corner of the room, Daenerys understood. Get a grip! she told herself sternly. Now not only was she perving on her masseur, she was now aroused. Very aroused, she noticed, clenching her thighs around a sweet, wet ache. She thanked the gods for small mercies. Lying on her stomach, at least he couldn’t see her hardened nipples.

“Warm towel,” Jon said in warning.

The searing damp heat was a shock, but far from an unpleasant one. Daenerys hummed, deeming that sound to be acceptable. Jon pressed the towel down, smoothing away excess lotion before peeling it away before it became too cool to be comfortable. The brief loss of contact was needed to restore a proper frame of mind. Jon was a fantastic masseur, but that was his job. He was in no way responsible for her body’s reaction, or any of the needy, desperate thoughts that came to mind.

The sheet and blanket were straightened back over her back. It was delicate balance, made with care, the need to access her body while preserving her relaxation and modesty. Daenerys marveled at the implicit trust in massage. A person naked before a stranger, alone in a dark room. Jon moved down her arms, kneading the thin skin on her wrists and palms. Daenerys concentrated on keeping her breaths smooth and even. Gently, Jon tucked her arms back under the sheet, moving down to work on her legs and feet. As she shifted, a faint wafting of her arousal rose up.  

“Tender spot?” Jon asked, his thumb lightening the pressure on her calf. He sensed her sudden tension. Her face on fire, Daenerys forced herself to relax.

“Yeah, a little,” she lied, “running stairs on Aegon’s Hill makes them tight.”

“I hear you. That last bit up to Targaryen Palace makes me want to die. My dog doesn’t seem to mind, though,” Jon murmured, before returning to his patient work.

It rested on her tongue to offer to join him on a run, anything to prolong their interaction. She dismissed it out of hand. How pathetic would he think she was? Some deeper part of her mind was storing up details of pour over later in the privacy of her queen-sized bed, the exact texture of his hands, the warmth of him, the magic channeled through his touch.

Jon worked his way to her feet, kneading the arch with his thumbs. Daenerys bit her lip around any more embarrassing sounds, despite how good it felt.  A soft chirp announced the end of their session as Jon wrapped hot towels around both feet. Despite the alarm, Jon seemed in no hurry to end their session. Instead, he smoothed more lotion up her calf, cupping the muscle with gentle pressure. Hidden knots of tension shivered and relaxed. He did the same at the small of her back, then again at the base of her neck. Through his subtle shifting, she caught a whiff of his scent. Soap and woodsy aftershave, with the faint tang of sweat. The room was very warm, after all.

“That ends our session today, Dany. I’ll leave you to dress. Remember to drink plenty of fluids,” Jon said, with a farewell squeeze on her shoulder. The words steadied her. Professional, polite, considerate. He was exactly what she needed today, in Missy’s absence. The problem was, Daenerys was left with only the taste of disappointment. She wanted more.      

                                                        ~

 Jon closed the door behind him with a soft click, as he had a thousand times before with a thousand different clients. Massages were a sensual experience, one made awkward when done with a stranger. People made noise when touched just right, it was a sign he was doing his job. Professionalism came easy to him. It made him a good masseur. Ever since mastering the art, he liked to impart healing, comfort and relaxation to his clients. He slipped into almost a trance, focusing on the muscle and bone beneath the skin, sweeping away the curled knots of tension and pain. With that focus, he could tune out other sensory input. He’d given massages to every shape and size of woman—men too. Beautiful or plain, overweight or thin, it made little difference to him.

This time was different. This time, he was hard as steel.

Jon made his way down the narrow hallway and into the laundry closet. The door was solid against his back, the room humid and warm as dryers hummed and washers rumbled. Jon exhaled a shaky breath, wiping the last of the massage lotion from his hands. Gods, what great fucking timing for his libido to rear its ugly head! It had been years since his high school girlfriend Ygritte dumped him, and female companionship had been superficial and mostly physical since. He got regularly laid, but now his throbbing dick was determined to puncture a hole in his trousers.

“Fuck,” he said, trying to breathe it down.

He closed his eyes and saw again the silky knot of her hair, a determined curl draped against her nape. The graceful slope of her back, the twin dimples at the base, just above the luscious curves of her buttocks. Had he dreamed up the scent of her cunt, so rich and female? That sound . . . Jon thumped the back of his head hard on the door, fisting his cock through his trousers. He hadn’t imagined that. Leaned over the table as he kneaded her back with the heels of his hands, she had moaned. An entirely unobjectionable sound by the current context, but with her—it woke some lustful demon inside him. It didn’t help that his cock was inches away from her mouth at the time.

Jon exhaled a sharp breath through his teeth. His cock pulsed through layers of cotton and denim. He was at work, for gods’ sake! He couldn’t jack off to the thought of a client. A perfectly innocent (gorgeous) client. He also couldn’t walk down the hall to his next client in his current state. Mrs. Pepperidge, a matron in her eighties with gouty arthritis in every joint, would object.

“Damn it,” he said. It was a credit to the mysterious Dany that even with the mental image of Mrs. Pepperidge’s crepe-y skin and dowager’s hump didn’t kill his erection. Nope, that just turned his thoughts back to the milky pale perfection of her skin, warm and smooth beneath his hands. There was a mole high on her left shoulder, her littlest toe had crooked nail. He might know her as well as a lover, he mused. The most private secrets allured him. Those high, bouncy breasts, her nipples pert against the sheet, that mouthwatering whiff of her cunt . . . fuck, fuck, fuck!

Jon yanked off his glasses and marched to the sink. The wrenched on the tap, and doused his face with cold water. Over and over, that cold sharp jolt, little trickles creeping down his neck and wetting the collar of his polo. There. Mercifully, his arousal abated. A rap at the door. Taptaptap.

“Jon, are you in there?” Shae’s accented voice floated through the door.

“Yeah, I’ll be right out. Just washing some linens,” Jon said.

“Ok. Your next client is in Room Four.”

“On my way,” he said, scrubbing his face and neck dry on a clean towel. He crammed all those thoughts of Dany into a box in his head. She was Missy’s client; it was chance that she’d been paired with him. It would never happen again. He needed to get used to that.        

[pinkysmiles]

Running around town with my loves….. #austin #roundrock #laketravis #theoasis #pflugerville #texas #bbloggers #fashion #style #renttherunway #visitingaustintx (at Austin, Texas) https://www.instagram.com/p/CdlizSUFDpj/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[theoasistribe]

For Gryff, and anyone else who might feel like sharing: What is a pet peeve of yours?

Gryff makes a frustrated noise "Oooh... people tryin ta change me or treat me like a fragile lil flower. Yeah, I chose a very small and cute visage, but I will break ya nose and laugh for it. I LOVE brawlin, I love runnin' with trolls, I love gettin down and dirty. Im an' independent strong dracthyr, thank you~ I aint changin' for no one and nothing! Except maybe addin' a troll visage t' my options? That would be nice~"

[tending-the-hearth]

Everything amazing about Ready Player One- SPOILERS ALSO EVERYONE NEEDS TO GO SEE IT

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1. Art3mis/Samantha is such a strong young woman, and she’s gone through so much, but she has to keep up appearances as both Art3mis and Samantha, leader of the resistance. 

2. WADE ISN’T SUPER BUFF HE ACTUALLY LOOKS LIKE A REAL HUMAN BEING

3. Aech is such a teddy bear and I adore him.

4. Helen is so cute and tough and strong and I adore her.

5. THE FREAKIN’ IRON GIANT YES AECH

6. Daito and Sho are brothers fight me

7. Akihide is so cute and he knows he’s the most badass 11-year old

8. EVERYTHING WITH HALLIDAY OMG I ALMOST STARTED CRYING

9. The entire race scene in the beginning where he’s racing backwards

10. They blended CGI and real-life actors seamlessly.

11. Art3mis’ CGI, and how during the final battle she had her birthmark. She was actually beautiful.

12. The entire final battle both in the Oasis and in the real world, because it was hilarious watching real-life people fight. 

13. Wade’s badass kick when Nolan tried to kill him.

14. “Sorry I shot you” 

15. “I’m not making the same mistake Halliday did”

16. WADE AND SAMANTHA’S ENTIRE RELATIONSHIP BOTH REAL-LIFE AND AS PARZIVAL AND ART3MIS THEY’RE SO CUTE

17. The last scene with the two of them in the chair just being teenagers. 

18. ALL THE 80S REFERENCES

[lovecathcatherine]

新一年用全新醫學護膚品牌Acaderma 1+1 = 2 抗炎抗氧組合

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以抗炎的The Oasis Barrier Booster綠洲潤護精華露作為基礎，增強肌膚屏障，修護炎症損傷。產品富含高濃度沙漠植物小花風車子Seh-Haw EX® 減少兩大促炎症因子IL-6和IL-8的分泌，提升細胞活力。減少因過度清潔或化妝所引起嘅炎症。

再配合Invisible Shield Defense Serum盈透倍護精華液，減少自由基並加倍保護膠原蛋白，榮獲美國New Beauty最佳防藍光大獎，多達13種先進活性成分複合，令肌膚得到加倍呵護。

團拜活動前後都要用佢哋急救肌膚，讓肌膚以最佳狀態見人。

醫學品牌 Acaderma已正式於Harvey Nichols 發售 Product(s) sponsored by Acaderma

謝謝大家來看LoveCath夏沫的文章啊~^^~Catherine (LoveCath夏沫),

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Google Level 8 ~ https://goo.gl/maps/higRogsGxzd5RjWp8 大眾點評 Level 5 ~ https://m.dianping.com/userprofile/1980175958 Trip Advisor ~ https://www.tripadvisor.com.tw/Profile/Lovecathcath

Trip.com ~ https://hk.trip.com/travel-guide/personal-home/1A75AFE32F7DFFA96788D4B0FF623774

小紅書 ~ https://www.xiaohongshu.com/user/profile/5bd8a555443cb3000193ea07?xhsshare=CopyLink&appuid=5bd8a555443cb3000193ea07&apptime=1658077066

LoveCath 夏沫

[rensourcing]

Tommy Hilfiger - The Oasis 🏜 -Please see comment section for English- TR: Tommy Hilfiger, Ramazan ayına özel altıncı koleksiyonu olan “The Oasis” isimli kapsül koleksiyonu satışa sundu. Genç kızlar ve kadınlar için tasarlanan bu özel ve sınırlı sayıdaki koleksiyon, ikonik markanın DNA'sını eğlenceli ayrıntılar ve çarpıcı silüetler içeren pastel bir paletle örüyor. Koleksiyon, Tommy Hilfiger'ın mirasını keyifli, modern tasarımlarla birleştirerek sofistike bir ton oluşturuyor. Kadınlar için zarif bir kaftan ve uzun bir elbisenin yanı sıra bağlamalı poplin elbise ve tulum gibi mütevazı silüetler içeren koleksiyon, Ramazan ayı için konfor ve modanın mükemmel birlikteliğini tüketicilere sunuyor. Genç kızlar için olan ve gençlik ruhunu kucaklayan “Mini-Me” serisinde ise, eğlenceli bir pembe elbise, chintz poplin kumaşından bir elbise ve altın çizgili bir elbise olmak üzere üç adet elbise bulunuyor. Orta Doğu'dan modellerin ve çekim ekibinin yer aldığı koleksiyon kampanyası, Birleşik Arap Emirlikleri'deki Al Qudra Gölü'nde çekildi. Koleksiyon, mart 2022'den itibaren Avrupa ve Birleşik Arap Emirlikleri, Suudi Arabistan, Kuveyt, Katar ve Bahreyn gibi Arap ülkelerinde satışa sunuldu. 📝📸hypebae.com #rensourcing #tommyhilfiger #tommyhilfigerramadan #ramadancollection #modestfashion #modestclothing #ramazankoleksiyonu #muhafazakargiyim #theoasis #theoasiscollection #minime (Ren Sourcing - Sibel Ege) https://www.instagram.com/p/CcS2uXZouTR/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[virtual-reality-dimensions]

Flipping The Script

I don’t know how many of you will read this, I honestly don’t know how many of you aren’t bots. Either way I feel obligated to let everyone know that this blog is going to be changing direction and purpose, at least for the time being. This has always been my outlet to share the magic, the hype, and most importantly the awe that new technologies can bring to the world. I would very much like to continue to do this... this glorified news aggregation, keeping everyone informed and up to date on innovations and new creative endeavors, but the problem is that I’ve been caught up in one of these innovated creative endeavors, TheWaveVR.

I’ve been a huge fan of TheWaveVR for a long time and it has as of late evolved into the most impressive creative/social platform I have ever seen. Allowing musicians to craft custom audio-reactive worlds and throw epic virtual parties with breathtaking interactive effects.

The above screenshot is an amalgamation of built in effects, custom models created by me, and remixed art based on stuff created by fellow ‘Wavers’. I have control over much of the visuals and lasers and can make them dance to the music with us. 

Having just been signed as a resident DJ at TheWaveVR (a dream come true!), I’ll be spending even more time crafting custom visuals and creating epic musical journeys to take everyone on each week!

That said, this blog isn’t going away. You may actually see more posts from me, but they will be for the most part related to TheWaveVR. This VR DJ gig is an unpaid passion project and until I can quit my day job or afford to cut back on hours, I just won’t have time to discover and share as much general Tech & VR news.

I will, however, do my best to keep you all updated on my journey in TheWaveVR. I hope to dance with some of you in VR soon! Details: www.TheWaveVR.com

[psychiclinda]

The last two days have been gorgeous weather and we have been enjoying it! #summer #theoasis 😍🤗🐶