arnica gel

anonymous asked:

If Harold and the missus were having shower sex and he was holding her up against the shower wall and he accidentally dropped her cuz he slipped how do u think he'd react (asking this because this actually happened to me 😩)

Oh my goodness. He’d feel HORRIBLE. He’d be tripping over himself trying to help her up, but not fully slip and fall over too. “Oh my, god! Baby!” She’s crumbled to the floor of the shower, with a pained yelp. He has to catch himself on the shower’s ledge to keep from falling, and he has water caught on his eyelids, blurring his vision as he squats down to find her hands. “Here, no, baby, let me help you up. Are you okay? Did you hit your head?” 

She shakes her head. “No. I’m okay. I’ve done worse.” She chuckles shortly, trying to catch her breath. She can feel the bruises forming and her tailbone aching.  

He tenderly would help her up onto the shower’s ledge, wincing as he helps her gingerly stand, at the splotchy bruises already blooming to the surface of one of her bum cheeks and the back of a hip and thigh. 

“Ooh, baby. I’m so sorry, Snuggs.” 

“Is it bad?” she asks, face scrunching up as she tries to straighten up and her tailbone has other thoughts. 

Harry peeks behind her once more. “It’s…uh…”

“Like a peach?” 

“A cute peach,” he decides. He kisses her forehead. “I’m really sorry, baby.” 

And he would be fussing over her. Finding a heating pad for her sore tailbone and arnica gel for the bruises. Tenderly spreading it over the angry patches of skin. And, since the mood has definitely evaporated, the just have a good cuddle. 

“M’an awful boyfriend. Almost broke yeh.” 

“Almost,” she teases. “Can’t just throw me around like that, Styles. That’s not very gentlemanly.” She’d poke his bare chest and snicker to herself, stopping when she sees the guilt smeared all over his features. She nudges a bare foot to his calf. “Hey, you. I’m okay, I promise. I’m not really broken.” 

“Jus’ feel bad,” he mumbles into her now damp hair. “I can’t believe I dropped you.”  

“Yeah, maybe we should cool it with the shower.” 

He sputters out a breath as he flops onto his back against the bed. “That is, if I can ever get it up again. That was terrifying.” xx.

ncc17-oh-fuck  asked:

I think I'm hypermobile, but my doctor just sort of said, "oh, your joint pain is because your joints are hyperflexible", and didn't really give me any information about it. Is there anything I can do to relieve the pain? I want to be an active person but every time I exercise, one of my joints (usually hips or knees) will start hurting a lot. The only thing I can really do is swimming, but I don't have a pool. Also, if you just have any helpful tips about it, I would appreciate it. Thank you!

i will answer this in separate chunks of text so it’s easier to read

pain relief- i use ibuprofen, lidocaine cream (it’s the aspercreme brand and you don’t need a prescription), flurbiprofen (this is real it sounds fake but it’s not) patches, heating pads and ice packs, arnica gel, and gabapentin (which is a prescription pain reliever that i take before bed to help with sleep)    i also find epsom salt baths to be very soothing and helpful for muscle soreness

activities- i know that biking and walking are recommended because they’re easier on your knees, but those are pretty much the only things i know of (not that there aren’t safe activities to do i just am not very active myself so i don’t know a lot) also, if you become injured while exercising KT tape helps and is easy to apply yourself

i hope this is helpful and that you find some things that work for you :)

kimstyl  asked:

Laura, can you do this as a three word prompt: I unbroke Beckett

#315 (continuation of #15 He broke her)


She woke sometime in the middle of the night, sore, pulse throbbing in her head. And between her legs.

A good sore. And a bad sore. All at once.

Kate licked her lips and shifted a knee in his bed, felt the ripple of pain across her back, her ribs. Hurt to breathe too deeply, though she hadn’t noticed it when she’d come to him in the midst of this thunder storm.

The lightning still flared woefully from time to time. Illuminated his bedroom, his body. His arm out as if he had wanted to pin her to the mattress, keep her there.

She had to go to the bathroom. She ached in ways she couldn’t yet distinguish, too exhausted, too grateful, too content.

Kate eased her foot to the floor and slid out from under the sheet. Her knee dipped when her weight came on it, and she had to clutch at the side table to keep her balance.

Breath rattled in her lungs. Her heart was thumping like a caught thing in a trap. She felt - faintly - sick, and she had to move away from the bed towards the bathroom, so carefully.

She closed the door after her and turned on the vanity light, winced at the harsh exposure and turned it off again. In the blessed cool relief of darkness, she used the bathroom, eyes closed, swaying for a moment on the seat.

She finished, cleaned up, shifted towards the bathroom sink.

That’s when she saw him, backlit by lightning in the doorway.

Fear spiked through her, but then she saw it was him, shambling towards her in the storm-licked darkness.

“Your back is covered in bruises,” he husked. His voice made her insides turn out, her spine shiver. “Kate, it looks bad.”

She turned before the mirror, her hands still soapy, the water running, both of them naked in the bathroom. She saw in the mirror what he must have seen in the flare of lightning, the mottled black blossoms along her ribs and spine.

His hands touched her first, before his body was there, warmth and heat and electricity. She forgot to breathe, and then her lungs pinched, and the water washed away the soap from her hands.

He leaned past her and turned off the faucet, one hand catching her by the wrists. He had a towel, he was drying her hands and then caressing her spine very lightly with fingertips, with the towel’s softness, with his lips.

She swayed again, lids slamming shut. His kisses touched a random pattern across her back, must be one for every bruise, and she whimpered as her breath seized and her heart kicked.

“Come back to bed. I can help.”

She turned into him, her lips instinctively searching for skin, for his neck or that salted place at his collarbone where her teeth had already made their mark. “You already have.”

“Pretty as that sentiment is-” His voice was a burr that nudged her feet into movement, following him as he tugged. 

She crawled back into his bed and laid on her stomach in the cool, soft sheets. She heard him in the bathroom, rifling in drawers, bottles knocking into each other. He hadn’t followed? 

She opened her eyes just as he came back to her, she watched him squat down beside the bed. His hand was so large. It dwarfed her face, made her feel cherished. Or dominated. Depending on how he used it, how he used her.

She kissed the meat of his thumb and then nipped it, and his mouth curved into a terribly erotic smile.

His eyebrows danced. “I bet I can make arnica gel and Icy Hot sexy.”

She laughed, and it hurt, but it made her lift her hand and touch his jaw, the soft skin under his chin. “It’s a bet,” she smiled.

He crawled right into bed over her with a happy little noise.

She closed her eyes and shivered as he got to work.


What women around the world take to the hospital when they give birth

Agnes Noti, 22, lives in Iramba District, Tanzania

What’s in the bag? Clothes for the baby, a cape (blanket) for the baby, socks, a basin, a flask, tea.

“I come from Tutu. The water for drinking, we buy from the shop. (Last time the other water came from) the river. There was white water. It was my grandmother who went to the river. The water from the river is not safe for drinking. So in the river many people fetch water that suffer. So using that one you can’t trust that water.”

Joanne Laurie, 34, London

What’s in the bag? Nappies, little white clothes for the baby, some knitted trousers, lots of snacks, my clothes, my own towel, toiletries, a tens machine, maternity pads, iPad, water bottle, medical notes, a blanket.

“I have packed a water bottle, my sister suggested to bring something to make it (water) easier to drink (during labour). I will bring it empty and I assuming the hospital will have somewhere I can fill it. They must have a water fountain. I am taking that for granted, unlike people in Africa. The most important thing in the bag is the blanket my mum gave me to bring the baby home in, the same one my mother brought me home in.”

Deanna Neiers, lives in New York City, U.S.A.

What’s in the bag? Music player, coconut oil for massage, lavender oil, arnica gel, snacks, nursing bra and pads, nursing pillow, comfortable clothes to wear at the hospital and to travel back home, soft swaddle blanket for baby, a long-sleeve onesie, a knitted hat.

“Being pregnant certainly heightens your awareness of how fortunate we are to have access to great birthing facilities and clean water. You want the best for your baby and it’s devastating to think about dangers such as contaminated water and unhygienic facilities. I imagine a world where all women have a safe, clean place to birth their babies.”

Ellen, 23, lives in Malawi

What’s in the bag? Razor blade to cut the umbilical cord, torch as there is no electricity supply, black plastic sheet, to put on the delivery bed as, with no clean water, it’s hard to keep the delivery room and beds clean, string to tie the umbilical cord, 200 Malawian Kwacha note for food, three large sarongs for the mother to wear for their stay (which could be as long as four weeks) and to wrap the baby in.

Hazel Shandumba, 27, lives in Hamakando Village, Monze District, Zambia

What’s in the bag? Baby blanket, cotton wool, sarong (Chitenge), a baby suit, napkins, a dish for water to wash with, a polythene roll to put on the delivery bed to maintain personal hygiene as there is not enough water and time to clean the delivery bed.

“We have a borehole at the clinic but there is no running water in the maternity ward.”

Katy Shaw, 31, lives in Melbourne, Australia

What’s in the bag? Toiletries, snacks, nappies, hat, socks, mittens, clothes and swaddles for the baby, clothes for me, night dresses, maternity underwear, maternity pads and nursing pads, massage oils

“I feel it is unbelievable that women are in that position (heavily pregnant women collecting dirty water themselves in the countries where WaterAid works), dealing with the everyday stresses of pregnancy and the prospect of childbirth, as well as the additional burden of collecting water.

“Even carrying the maternity bag is too heavy for me, I couldn’t imagine how I would cope if I had to carry 25litres of water over a distance. Physically I don’t know if I would be able to do it even before I was pregnant.”

Claudine Razafindrabary lives in Betafo district, Vakinankaratra region, Madagascar

What’s in the bag? New clothes, cotton wool, alcohol for cleaning, nappies, thermos, bucket, sanitary pads

“My family told me about the taboos around pregnancy and I’ve tried to follow them. For me, the main one is not putting a scarf around my neck during my pregnancy because if I do my baby could be born with the umbilical cord wrapped around their neck. So I don’t wear a scarf. I don’t even have one at home because I want my baby to be born naturally without anything around his neck.”

Weekend update: Arnica Gel given to me by a friend after I came off my horse in a sudden and catastrophic manner. It worked, but the expiration date is September 2004. Too bad, because there is so much left. I guess that could be a good thing - I did not need to use it again. No photo for Saturday’s shed: two rubber teapot stamps sent over to the UK.

Kiss Had Me Like Wow (Calum Hood Cute Imagine)

The cold December air, floated through your thick winter coat, chilling you to the bone. You shivered at the ice-like feeling prickling over your arms and legs. As your feet carried you down the street, you coughed slightly and rubbed your nose, aware of how red it most likely was.

But you had to get out, you had to get away. It wasn’t safe anymore. Well, it never was, but you were too love struck to see what was glaring you in the face. That twisted smirk he always wore, the way his eyes glinted with evil mischief, the shaky feeling you got whenever you were alone, the way he grabbed your arm to “bring you closer.”

He was vile, but you loved him, and he said he loved you. But now you see he didn’t love anyone, not even himself. He was merely looking for something or someone to control, since he couldn’t control his own miserable life. You had been that someone, he had you locked in chains for two years, you didn’t even realize it until he grew violent. But you took his sudden outbursts as stress and you being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Even though all your friends said to leave him, you couldn’t.

Until now. Now it had gone much too far. Your brain finally clicked together, realizing this wouldn’t change and it was causing you to become depressed and mean. You didn’t want that, you wanted to be the same bubbly, happy, kindhearted, compassionate, funny (Y/N). The one you were before him, the real you.

You call your best friend immediately, she knew of the trouble he had caused and what was going on. She always said, “When you leave, call me and I will help you.” Well you had finally left, for good and were in dire need of help, if you didn’t find a place to get warm soon, hypothermia would be your next boyfriend.


“(Y/B/F/N), it’s (Y/N).” You say sniffling.

“Oh my God! Are you okay? You sound awful!” Your best friend says hurriedly.

“Y-Yeah, I’ll-I’ll be fine.” You stutter, “I-I-I was wondering if-f you-u could pick me up-p?”

“I-I wish I could. Where are you?” Your best friend asks, hopeful.

“The corner of Mali Road and Duke Street?”

“Oh! Perfect! You remember my half brother, right? You know, Calum?”

“Uh y-yeah, why?”

“He lives on Mali! Just go over to his house! 758 East Mali Road, I’ll pick you up when my shift ends?”

“W-wh-when will t-th-that b-be?”

“Midnight… I’m so sorry, I told my boss I’d take the late shift since I wasn’t doing anything and I need the money.”

“It’s oh-okay, d-don’t worry-y about-t it.”

“Just tell Calum I sent you. He’ll understand, he did always li- I mean you and him always got along.”

“Yeah, that-that was five years ago, he’s probably changed and s-s-so have I!”

“Oh I know, you’ve gotten a LOT prettier! Remember when you had the braces and glasses?”

“Yes! I remem-m-m-ber, God!”

“Sorry, sorry, listen just get warm and have Calum make you some food, he’ll be nice, I promise!”

“T-th-thanks. I’m almost th-there…”

“Call me if Calum starts being a dick!”

“I will, b-b-bye.”

“Bye darling.”

You hung up the phone just as you stepped up the pathway to Calum’s house. Calum Hood, God, you had the biggest crush on him, but that was five years ago, you were both children. Just turned into teens, hormones going wild. It was nothing. At least that’s what you told yourself.

You walk up to the door and ring the doorbell, hopeful that anyone would answer. You definitely weren’t expecting Calum to answer the door in just his underwear, his hair all messed up from being in bed most likely, you silently hope he doesn’t have a girl over. That would be awkward.

“H-hi C-Cal-Calum.”

“(Y/N)? Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry come inside you must be freezing!” Calum exclaims opening the door wider, you hurry inside desperate for warmth.

“As must you…” You say, teeth chattering.

“Wh- Oh.” Calum says looking down at his boxer-briefs, his cheeks tinge pink and he runs to his room, when he returns, some sweatpants and a t-shirt hug his figure, and in his hand were some sweats and a sweatshirt.

“I-I thought maybe you would want to take a hot shower and change?” He asks shrugging. You smile and take the clothes, “Bathroom is on your left.” Calum calls, you walk into the bathroom and lock the door, turning on the shower to the hottest setting.

As you disrobe you cringe at the green and purple marks on your body, the red splotches, the cuts, how your lip is actually busted and you have a black eye, thank God you were wearing sunglasses when you got here.

The hot water soothes your aching muscles and you hum a little tune, hopeful to get your mind off what had happened. As you step out you wrap a fluffy towel around yourself, drying off your body and ringing out your hair. You put your undergarments back on and then the sweats and sweatpants, they’re huge but really comfy. As you walk out of the bathroom, you bump into Calum.

“I’m so sorry, I just wanted to tell you that I-I, uh got a fire going.” He tells you, “Here, I’ll take your clothes so they can be washed and dried.”

“Thanks, Calum.”

“No,” Calum looks at your face and his pales as he sees your busted lip and black eye.

“Oh my God, (Y/N). Are-Are you okay?” Calum asks concerned.

“Y-yeah. Yeah, I’m okay, promise.” You smile at him in hopes to calm his mind.

“Go sit on the couch, love. Im gonna throw these in the wash. And then we are going to patch you up.” Calum says pushing a stray hair out of your face.

He walks away and you follow your orders and sit on the couch in front of the fire.

Calum walks back in, a first aid kit in his hand.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks you softly.


“Okay, can I patch you up?”

You nod in reply and watch as he opens the first aid kit and grabs some disinfecting wipes and begins with your lip, wiping it softly, and yet still you flinch because of the sting.

“Sorry, love, it’s going to sting, but that just means the antiseptic is working. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, it wasn’t you.” You shrug and suck in air through your teeth.

“I have some arnica gel? It’s supposed to help with bruising, swelling and aches. Do you want me to?”

“You’ll have to take off the sweatshirt…” Calum says awkwardly.

“Are you-Are you okay with that?”

“Yeah. I’ll be okay, can you help me?”


“Are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah.” You get the sweatshirt by the hem and start pulling it up. Calum helps as he notices you taking sharp breaths. As soon as the sweatshirt comes off, you feel cold and start to shiver.

“Here, Uh sit by the fire!” Calum takes you to the fire and you sit down, “I’m gonna put some gel on the bruises on your back, okay? How about you tell me something that you love? Something that makes you happy? So you’re not in as much pain.”

“Y-Ye-Yeah, Uh I-I-I love coffee a-and-d my parents, a-and your half-sister. I love animals and my job and my bo-no I don’t love my ex-boyfriend.” You say strongly, Calum’s warm fingers retreat from your back.

“Is that who did this to you?”

You nod solemnly and hear Calum curse under his breath.

“I knew when (Y/B/F/N) told me about him hurting you, I should of gotten you out of there, I should have-I should have told you-”


“Lay down so I can put this cream on the bruises on your stomach.” Calum says clearly avoiding the subject. Yet you do as asked and lay down, something about him just makes you want to do everything, and anything, for him.

His fingers massage the gel against your aching muscles, causing you some relief. As his hands reach higher your breathing quickens, “You have some bruises on your breasts so uh, here you can do that…” He says awkwardly as you nod and smile.

“Calum, you can, I mean if you want to, Uh you can do it…”

“I don’t want to overstep any boundaries.”

“I said it’s okay.”

“Wow this is not how I thought I would get to touch you so sensually…”

“You mean, you-you’ve thought about it?”

“What?! No! No! I mean-I mean…”

“It’s okay Calum, can you just put the stuff on?”

“Yeah, my bad.” Calum puts some gel on his fingers and traces the curvature of your breasts, causing you to let out an involuntary shiver.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry, it’s just cold.”


“Yeah.” Calum rubs the gel over your cleavage slowly, “I actually think that stuff is working, I feel a lot less achy.”

“I’m glad, you know (Y/N), he didn’t deserve you, he never did.”

“That’s what everyone says but I don’t think I deserved him.”

“You’re right.” Your head shoots up at Calum staring at his features, “You didn’t deserve the way he treated you, the way he batted you around like some doll! You didn’t deserve any of it.” Your shocked expression turns into a bashful grin, and you feel your cheeks slowly heat up.

“You deserve to be treated like the princess you are. You should be loved and happy; you should have people begging to just sit in your presence or just see you smile, one time;” Calum trails his hand down the side of your face and then clutches your chin softly, “They should want to see you laugh and hear the melodious laughter that emits from your ruby lips. People should be treating you as a Queen, but instead you chose someone who treated you like a rodent. That can never happen again, okay?” Calum asks, looking into your eyes, you nod slowly and see Calum’s eyes trail down to your lips. You bite your lip and Calum groans softly, still staring intently at your busted lip.

“I want to kiss you so badly right now.” He whispers against your face.

“Then kiss me.” You whisper back breathily.

“Your lip?”

“Shut up and kiss me.” You say smirking. Calum finally leans in and as his full lips touch yours you feel a rocket shoot through your body. Your small hands clutch his hair as he kisses you again, as each kiss progresses, they get more passionate. Your lips move in perfect synchronization, and when Calum’s tongue swipes against the entrance to your mouth, you don’t even think twice before opening and letting your tongues tango together.

It was easily the best kiss you have ever gotten to be apart of and as you both withdrew from each other one word rolled from your tongues, “Wow.”


duaedenateist replied: You know how we always write about Felicity getting an arrow tattoo, yeah I want Oliver to have a Felicity themed tattoo.

Some decisions should be made drunk. Others should be made sober. Tattoos… They’re in a category of their own. Just make sure you don’t end up with a heart on your ass. That’s all I’m saying.

Tommy’s words from days past suddenly popped into his head as he lay there, his shirt shoved up under his chin as the man with the tattoo gun etched another black line into his skin.

That conversation had happened nearly nine years ago, on his twenty-first birthday just before his best friend had thrown him the party to end all parties. They both knew they’d be getting completely wasted that night and made a pact not to get some stupid tattoo just because someone suggested it. Luckily, it hadn’t happened, but the words stuck with him.

Now, as the tattoo artist filled in the new character on his abdomen with black ink, Oliver realized he’d made the right decision. After all, no one but him knew what those characters meant, and he had no intention of telling anyone, but if someone did ask, he’d only tell them about the last one, the one that meant the most to him.

When it was finished, he paid the man and left.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Hey Fran I was wondering if you had anything natural that deals with arthritis. My Grands is in pain and though I know it won't cure it, id like to give something that'll at least make it a little easier

Hey! :)

I would suggest looking into Arnica. It’s a flower used to heal muscle soreness, arthritis and a few other painful ailments of the body. I’ve seen people suggest the flower as a tea (just added to hot water) but i’ve found that method to take longer as a form of pain relief. I would suggest you go to a health store and look for Arnica lotions and gels, for immediate topical application. It will work so much faster and give your grandma a clean, healthy form of pain relief (no pill popping) without side effects. I hope that helps!