#(for algae cleaning purposes)

[nyctibiius]

more of the betta swamp!!

[gladiatorcunt]

- UNDEAD UNEARTHED !!

you’re too sweet for me

cw: 18+ mdni, goth reader, reader is lowkey mean but not really on purpose, mentions of reader wearing makeup & a skirt, dubcon due to alcohol use and taking advantage of a vulnerable person, ambiguous intentions/ending, reader has a pussy, friends!pope & reader, one line of vomit kink & puppy reader talk, unprotected sex on the beach, feet kink, mentions of animal hunting & implied bone collecting, arguable intox (?) kink, unedited, title inspired by hozier but not directly from the unreal unearth album (subtitle is), experimental style, one usage of the word ‘daddy’, piss kink

wc: 1.5k

1k event. / consider commissioning me!

You’re out at night hunting a gator that some jackass threw into your family’s lake on a whim. It’s not a body of water that beckons the upper class to visit, large parts of it swamped with algae and fervidly humid as any circle of hell. But it’s yours, and you’d hate to get your foot bitten clean off because you procrastinated taking things into your own hands. An annoying job anyway, guess the bones rumored to be buried in the marsh will have to wait.

You’re just minding your business when a boat pulls up. Standing tall behind like the wheel like a captain is your one night stand from a few days ago, John….. C? Or maybe B, whatever. To his right is your longtime acquaintance Pope, someone who you probably would be a lot closer to if you didn’t resign yourself to being the world’s youngest hermit. You bonded over math and reading and you were glad to feel normal for once, to have a normal near-friend and do normal things.

He was the one that made an off handed comment about a party going down at the beach. Nothing special on this sinkhole in the shape of an island, but in theory you can appreciate a casual offer to hang out. You made the decision to only be there for half an hour since the drive back to your trailer was long and winded. You must have looked lonely, because John B (though you didn’t know his name at the time) had sought you out 15 minutes after your arrival and pats your back while you throw up the cheap liquor. Fuck you for trying out the nauseating neon colored liquids in those cheap red solo cups.

You can’t be mad at Pope, you squirreled your way to the pebbled trail leading to the beach soon after exchanging small talk.

“You’ll feel better when you get it all out, okay?” The brunette guy holding your back softly smiles, chomping at the bit to take care of something other than everything else he has to deal with. “Just lean on me and try to relax your throat.”

You’re admittedly embarrassed but you felt something warm stir within you, if you were sober you’d have batted his hands away and all but hissed and bared your teeth. You could almost purr like this, a heavy hand settled on your head and another petting your flank to soothe your trembling. The crosses on the black jacket you’re wearing shook in the breeze, a soft chorus of jingling sounds ringing through the air. Eventually you empty your stomach, he squeezes your shoulder and tucks you into his side as you calmed down.

Your heavy eye makeup and dark lipstick are smudged, your mascara left little trails down your face due to your tears. Having a gag reflex really was the worst, you decide.

“So, do I have a name to call you?” He asked “Can’t think of you as the pretty stranger I saw puking their guts out forever, y’know?”

Your cheeks heat up and you really wish a random tsunami would sweep you out to sea, but you give him your name and hoard the sound of him repeating it in your skull. A part of you between your legs hopes that he does the same when you wrap your lips around the simple syllables of his name, first and last. John B. Routledge is more attractive than he has any right to be, but you know he doesn’t need you to tell him that.

He tilts his head and the moonlight shifts to frame his face. It makes him look like the kind of guy you‘d go to a Lovers Lane with and makeout in his car past any reasonable hour. Someone normal, and you’re a recluse but that doesn’t mean you don’t get lonely. You stumble away from the partygoers, led by his firm grip to a private-ish area of the beach.

He smiles at you again as he pulls his t-shirt off and lays it down on the ground.

He takes a seat and pats the spot beside him, “You need some peace and quiet, some fresh air too. Come sit with me, I don’t think it’d be a good idea to leave you alone right now.”

You bite the inside of your cheek but sit down anyway, and you let him rest your head against his shoulder. You sit in that position for a while, watching the full moon shine on the ocean below. It feels nice, and you weirdly don’t want to leave, so you sink into the embrace and allow the distant cheers and yelling to fade into the background.

The world is fuzzy when he kisses you for the first time, there’s an airbrush filter over everything in your field of vision. You throw caution to the wind and clumsily kiss back, enjoying the glide of your lips together and the reoccurring pecks that bookmark every brush of skin.

You slur that you really never do this, have sex with somebody the night you meet them. John B chuckles, assuring you that he never thought you were the type to do that anyway. You keep to yourself too much, it’s a wonder you’re even allowing him to peel off your studded skirt and lace panties. He kisses down your leg and when he gets to your strappy sandal, he directs your foot to his bulge and grinds against it while he undoes the straps.

Your right shoe is promptly tossed over your head. Your top joins it, but the sickening clang your jacket makes is close to taking you out of the moment.

Then he groans, and you boldly move your toes up and down the shaft, giving what seems like a sizable cock a sloppy footjob. Your foot keeps slipping, but it makes him harder watching you struggle to regain your footing and keep up your pace. You press your heel into his balls, judging the heft of them and how they swell. You only stop when you skirt your big toe around the head of his dick, and John B clamps a hand around your ankle, chiding you for being so greedy already.

He repeats the process with the other shoe and suddenly your legs are spread and he’s kneeling in front of your exposed pussy with the strangest look on his face. Like it’s what he’s been waiting his entire life for but never knew he needed until he saw it in the flesh. He teases your clit with a few uncoordinated touches, messy circles with the tip of his thumb that leave you wanting.

Your limbs wade through water on the way to wrap around his neck, your anchor in the dizzying sea of lowered inhibitions. You grow wet disturbingly quickly, and the sticky sounds of his fingers playing with your folds, delving deeper up your slit and into your cunt sound louder than gunshots.

You’re so out of it you don’t notice the golden droplets falling on the pads of his digits. He wears them like luxury rings.

He coos and grins, “That’s it, you’re a messy puppy, huh? ‘S okay, I think it’s sweet.”

Your throat spasms and gargles around a watery reply, something about agreeing and thanking him and begging. You think you call him Daddy when the pleasure starts to rewire your brain.

He’s… caring, adjusting his shirt under you so you don't get too much sand sticking to your skin and stroking his thumbs down your thighs whenever you tense up. A tad too sweet for your liking, without the bitterness you’d expect from someone else. It feels right, and you guess that’s what causes you to whine and paw at the waistband of his shorts. John B pants into your slack jawed mouth and nods, licking your teeth and freeing his dick.

You don’t pick up on the lack of alcohol that should be permeating his breath, all you can focus on is how softly he taps the fat tip of his cock on your hole. Like it’s shy but going to do whatever it wants regardless, mold your guts around his length and leave anyone else without being able to fit into the lock he’s custom made.

In the present, your grip around your shotgun loosens considerably and that’s the sign he needs.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and I forgot to get your number, so I…I just couldn’t wait anymore.” He says as if that explains everything, as if it seems perfectly fine that he dragged his friend out onto his boat to find out where you lived.

You don’t remember the specifics of the night, but you recall bits and pieces. How his cock stretched your walls and left you clenching around nothing, his necklace smacking the inside of your chin as he thrust inside of you with expert precision, his tongue cleaning the dried vomit off the corner of your mouth and forcing you to taste it. You don’t really remember the individual actions, but you can’t forget the sensations, so you watch the barely there ripples in the water as the boat moves farther into the distance. Your number on a torn piece of paper clutched in John B’s fist.

The gator better not have been scared off.

[bestanimal]

Round 1 - Phylum Porifera

(Sources - 1, 2, 3, 4)

The Phylum Porifera includes the sponges, also called sea sponges.

These animals are filter feeders that are bound to the sea bed in their adult forms, though some have free-swimming larva. Many species are important for building reefs. Their bodies consist of a mass of collagen jelly (called mesohyl) sandwiched between two main layers of cells. But they are not soft! Most sponges’ bodies are full of sharpened structural elements called spicules, which are made of either silica or calcium carbonate, so any predator biting into a sponge would get the same sensation as biting into shards of glass. Some sponges also have exoskeletons. Most sponges filter food particles via water flowing through their barrels and pores, but some sponges are carnivorous, using either sticky threads or barbed spicules to catch prey. Sponges may have been the first animals, and fossils of them date back to the Cambrian.

Propaganda under the cut:

Sponges could teach us how life began on earth.

As filter-feeding omnivores that feed on detritus, plankton, bacteria, and in some cases crustaceans and other small animals, sponges are an important part of the nutrient cycle in the ocean. Some are also symbiotic to other organisms, like algae, and provide homes for many reef animals.

Glass sponges, with skeletons of six-pointed siliceous spicules, are one of the longest lived animals on earth, with a possible maximum age of around 15,000 years!

While the spicules of most sponges render them too rough for human use, species in the genera Hippospongia and Spongia have soft, fibrous skeletons. Early Europeans used these dried out skeletons for many purposes, including cleaning, padding helmets, filtering water, painting, and even as contraceptives. The sponge industry almost brought these species to extinction, so nowadays most kitchen sponges are made of synthetic or plant-based material.

As revealed in the stage musical, the beloved cartoon character Spongebob Squarepants is an Aplysina fistularis (common name: yellow tube sponge), seen in the first image of this post.

spunch

[bloodfin]

Chapter 1: Your Infernal Majesty

Summary: In the Depths of the Pit, Rain receives a sacred summons that will tear him from his home and thrust him into an uncertain fate above. He grapples with the weight of tradition and loss, while Dewdrop prepares for his own transformation: a long awaited shift from water to fire. While memories of summonings past resurface, a shadowy figure stirs in the Ministry Archives and it becomes clear: something ancient is watching, and none will remain unchanged. Multi-chapter fic (not complete)

Tags: slow burn, additional tags to be added, hurt/comfort, elemental magic, elemental transition, angst

a/n: it was literally easier for me to have emergency surgery and bring a child into this world than it was for me to start posting this fic. but it's a story i want to tell, so here we are... hope you enjoy this first chapter, i've had this hiding in my drafts for well over a year at this point

Read below, or on Ao3

Bubbles stream from a young ghoul’s mouth as he speeds through the shadowy depths of the healing halls, eyes wide with urgency. He clutches a scroll in a trembling hand, sealed with gold and heavy with the weight of something far beyond him. Something sacred. Something terrifying. 

The Hall of the Depths is quiet, filled with an overwhelming scent of medicine. Clean algae, crushed coral, resin and ink. Reeds rise tall around each nest, swaying gently with the currents. Light is scarce here, swallowed by brackish water. The only glow is his own bioluminescence, reflecting off the shimmer of sleeping ghouls’ breaths. He inhales deeply and steadies himself. Searching. 

There. 

He catches a swift movement ahead, a flash of elegant deep blue, violet-dipped fins pulsating with a calming green light. He surges forward. 

“My lady,” he calls, louder than intended, voice echoing through the still. 

She turns, her graceful form curling back. “Jasper? Are you alright?” 

He can feel his whole body betraying him, skin lit with every nervous hue, flickering in time with his racing heart.

“Urgent,” he says, handing over the scroll with a bow of his head. “From the Prince Himself.” 

She examines it carefully, gills flaring for heartbeat when she examines the golden seal. Despite settling back into calm neutrality, Jasper feels the tension bloom in her silence like blood in water. She turns it again, small flickers of yellow present in the webbing between her fingers. 

“For me?” she finally asks quietly. 

“No,” he murmurs, avoiding her gaze. “It’s for Rain.” 

She hums, and turns towards the two younger ghoulettes that had been working beside her. 

“Tend the patients,” she says quietly, “and don't hesitate to let me know if you need anything.” 

She stills for a moment, recentering herself as she clutches the warm scroll. 

“Let us make haste. He should be in the upper hall.” 

Jasper nods, unable to keep his glowing skin from betraying the swirl of emotions he carries; duty, confusion, and dread. He follows close beside her, their tails slicing silently through the water as they leave the Hall of the Depths behind. That place, sacred and heavy with sorrow, is where the weakest were nurtured back from the brink. He always admired the ghouls that worked there.

As they swim upward through the ascending tunnels, Jasper can’t help but glance at her. She moves with purpose, but her silence speaks louder than words. He can see it in the subtle twitch of her fin, the ever-so-slight tremble of her gill slits. The seal had rattled her, and that scares him more than anything. .

      ⋆⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺⋆

Rain always possessed a deep calm, similar to his mother. But rather than working towards long term, more palliative care, he performed exceptionally in the emergency hall. Quick-witted and sure of his own skill, he has seen a plethora of ill and injured ghouls in the hundreds of years he has practiced alongside the members of his clan. 

He nearly barrels into his mother and her page, having darted out at the first opportunity when he felt the brief wave of her distress. 

“Mama? Are you well?” Rain’s voice is soft and calm, but Jasper can see the way his shoulders tighten, how his fingers twitch at his sides, bracing for bad news. 

She smiles faintly and reaches out to brush her thumb across his cheek. Jasper observes the color shift below his skin, the telltale flicker of yellow - nervousness - tightly coiled and barely hidden. But if fades with her touch, grounding, as it always has been. 

“There is to be a summoning,” she states plainly. 

“I see,” Rain hums. He tilts his head slightly, processing. Always assessing, always calm. 

“For someone in the clan?” He studies her face and searches her eyes and she hates the flash of fear she sees in his. Her silence speaks volumes. 

“For you, then?” 

She shakes her head and presses the elegant scroll into his palm with quiet reverence.  

“For you,” she whispers. 

Rain stares at the scroll in his hands, heavy despite the fine parchment. His name isn’t marked on the outside but it feels like it had been written for him long before now. He turns it over once, then once again. The seal shimmers with Infernal gold, the Prince’s signature mark pulsating gently. 

“Is it Infernal magic, or are my hands just that cold,” Rain says softly, more to himself than anyone else. It feels warm against his skin, a magic that is old and sure. Final, in a way. 

She doesn’t answer, doesn’t need to. Rain feels the current shift in the water around her. She watches him, heart breaking quietly behind her calm exterior. He finds a moss-covered rock and perches there, like he had so many times as a child. It grounds him, makes him feel small in a comforting way. 

“Perhaps there's a mistake?” 

“He doesn't make mistakes, my child.” 

He knows she’s right, she always is. With an exhale that was probably more forceful than necessary he slowly, reverently peels back the seal. 

He unfurls the parchment and begins to read aloud. 

Corentin Tempestas of the Great Salt River Clan, 

Rain blinks. No one ever uses his full name. The formality is chilling, and he finds himself swallowing hard before continuing.

Your presence is required on the surface, for the grand Ghost project. One trunk will be sent after your arrival, through a separate portal. Consider one set of ceremonial clothing. 

Summoning will take place after moonrise tomorrow. 

A drop of blood pressed with your thumbprint will bind you to this contract. 

Your Infernal Majesty, 

L 

Rain shakes his head a few times, reading and reading again, processing. The words are heavier than reef stones, immoveable, undeniable. 

He’s caught somewhere between defiance and disbelief. “Isn't summoning supposed to be a request?” 

“Typically,” his mother agrees, scanning over the document. “But this is different. He’s not asking, Rain. He’s calling.” 

Rain’s jaw tightens and he shakes his head, trying to cast the weight of the words off of it. 

“But I am needed here. This is where I belong. I save people, I don’t -” His voice cracks, which startles him. He recenters with a deep breath. “What do they even want from me up there? To play in a band?” 

His mother sighs and places a hand on his shoulder, and it's then that he realizes his gills are flaring. He's sure his face is bright yellow. 

“If He is calling you directly, there is a purpose. One only you can serve.”

“Signed it ‘L' too,” Rain grumbles, stopping mid eyeroll after catching his mother's quirked brow. “Sorry, mama, I just don’t understand.” 

“You don’t have to. Not yet.” Her hand still rests on his shoulder and she squeezes at him in a way that has always been reassuring. “The path will reveal itself to those that walk it.” 

Rain thinks of the other summoned ghouls, the haunted looks they return with. There is fire in their eyes. Pride. A clear cost that weighs on their shoulders upon their return. He’s not met anyone that has come back from this ‘Ghost project,’ and that only serves to heighten his anxiety. 

But perhaps that is his purpose, to aid the suffering on the other side. Summoning is not easy, and neither is returning. 

Rain lets out a breath, long and low. Then, without ceremony, he brings his thumb to his lips, draws blood with a sharp fang, and presses it to the parchment. 

It hisses and the seal flares once - the summons is complete. 

“This is a great honor, sweet sprat. I know you will make your clan proud.” 

Rain smiles as best he can and squeezes at his mother's hand. He knows she'll sit with him as he packs, probably slip a few extra trinkets into his trunk after he leaves. 

Leaves.

He's hardly even been on the dry land of the Pits, let alone ever considered going beyond. He thought he'd follow the path of his clan, remaining in the Halls of Healing until he was needed elsewhere. 

And he supposes he has done exactly that. 

He just never imagined that the call would come so soon. 

⋆⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺⋆

Mountain leans on the doorframe of Dewdrop's room, watching him flit about to pack away his various belongings. He's only going across the hall, but the boxes will surely make the change easier. Fewer trips and all. His arms are crossed but there is no judgment in his stance, only quiet observation tinged with sadness. 

Dew is everywhere all at once, fluttering from a trunk to a shelf to a pile of clothes and back again. A ribbon of nervous energy trails behind him despite his grin. His tail flicks in nervous bursts, betraying the thrum of adrenaline in his bloodstream. 

“Sure about this, then?” Mountain’s voice is low, rough around the edges with worry. 

Dew pauses his frantic movements, an old hoodie in his hands, and looks up. His sky-blue eyes meet Mountain’s dark green, and for a moment the room seems to still. 

“‘Course Mounty, never been so sure.” His voice is quiet, more deliberate. He sits on the edge of his nest, rubbing the old worn fabric like it will give him the words he needs.His voice always makes Mountain smile, he doesn't have the two-toned metallic thrum that the other water ghouls do. Just one scratchy tenor that makes his heart thump a bit harder. “I just don’t know how to explain it.” 

“You don't have to,” he rumbles, stepping further inside and filling the whole door frame. “Not to me.” 

Dew looks down at the short webs between his fingers. “Does the Earth talk to you?” 

Mountain nods, of course it does. The Earth is his lifeblood, his lullaby. It whispers through roots and rock, through ancient rivers carved in stone. He sings back to it, day in, day out, ancient magic flowing deep in his veins. He doesn’t have to listen for it. It’s simply part of him. 

“The water doesn't talk to me,” Dew confesses, his voice steady but with a raw edge. “Not really. Not the way it talks to the others. I get echoes, now and then, when the moon’s full. But that’s it. She’s never felt like home.”

Mountain makes a low sound in his throat, understanding if not quite empathy. He can never claim to know the ache of that silence, but can honor it. 

“And fire does?” 

Dew’s face brightens with something deep and his tail swishes behind him with excitement rather than nerves. 

“Yes,” Dew smiles, big and broad. “I can't wait to feel it in my fingertips. I watched Ifrit and Alpha for hours, practicing, channeling all that passion. Not just into the guitar, but into the Ministry. Keeping hearths warm, leading. It speaks to me in a way the water never did. There is purpose in fire, it makes me feel… seen.” 

Mountain tilts his head slightly and his voice, though gruff, holds a softness that only Dewdrop can ever draw out of him. 

“As long as you're sure, waterlily.” He pauses, then smiles gently. “Or maybe firelily, now.”

Dew’s tail wags at that, his laugh bubbling out of him like a burst of air during a deep dive. 

“I've never been more sure of anything. This is it. This is who I'm meant to be.” 

Mountain hesitates, scratches at the back of his neck. “Wha'd'ya think is gonna happen to… her?” 

Dew raises his eyebrow. 

“You seriously asking about my tentacle at a time like this?” 

Mountain flushes an earthy green, the mossy color spreading quickly across his cheeks and nose. He opens his mouth to stumble through an apology but stops when Dew’s warm laughter fills the room again. 

“I'm just fuckin' with ya big guy,” he grind. “I honestly don't know. We can all shift, so I've been hoping since I started with her, I get to keep her. I'm really gonna miss her if I don't.” 

Mountain nods, still feeling sheepish. “We could ask Delta, if you want.” 

Dew stands then, crosses his room to wrap his arms around Mountain's waist, pulling himself close until he can rest his cheek against his chest. 

“Rather not. They've got real Haunting of Hill House vibes, you know?” 

Mountain laughs, a deep echoing thing, and holds Dew tighter. He knows exactly what he means. 

Everyone knew Delta was strange, still water deep and dark. He moves through the Ministry like a shadow, always where he wasn’t expected and somehow never where he should be. His voice was quiet, but carried, and no one could remember exactly what his face looked like after they looked away.

“Once,” Mountain rumbled, “I saw them whisper to a stone wall that leads to the catacombs. It started bleeding.”

Dew blinked, then shuddered. “Exactly. I’m not asking them about my tentacle.”

“Besides,” he continues, nuzzling in close, “what could possibly go wrong?” 

The memory of exactly that possibility drifts between them like a slow-moving current, unspoken but vivid. 

The Air summoning. 

It was supposed to be routing; ceremonial, calculated, precise. The Circle has been drawn in silver dust and bone ink, ancient sigils and lines humming with purpose: to summon one air ghoul. One. 

But the veil between realms had a sense of humor. 

The portal shimmered like a mirror cracking underwater, refracting reality. Wind howled through the stillness of the summoning chamber, bringing with it the scent of ozone and something far older, storm slick stone, high peaks, and lightning that had never touched the ground. 

Two ghouls stepped through. 

Not one. 

Two. 

The first was intended: a willowy ghoulette with eyes like pale grey clouds and short hair that drifted upwards like she had never even heard of gravity. She blinked, startled, but still poised. Confused, but composed. 

Her hand was wrapped around that of another ghoulette, this one with eyes like a storm and fluffy, curly hair that seemed to float like a cloud. She was shorter, stockier, and looked more afraid than the ghoulette that came through first. 

It caused a bit of a fuss, really, this second figure coming through. There was an urgent need for more: another blanket, a mask, more hands outstretched in comfort, endless voices offering explanations while others searched for answers. 

So much chaos, in fact, that no one noticed when a third came through. No one saw the smoke. To be fair, at first, it was just a tendril. Then a slow, spiraling column that spun in silence at the edge of the open gate. It twisted like it was looking, learning, remembering. Before anyone knew what was happening it compressed, sharply, folding in on itself like a breath being held. 

And from that breath, he formed. 

A figure, tall and lean, wrapped in a glamour so fine it might as well have been his skin. Dark hair bundled at the top of his head, windblown ever so slightly. His eyes were like the eye of a storm, calm only because of the chaos they held in the center. 

He stepped forward casually, his glamour finishing its subtle shimmer as his bare feet touched the edge of the circle. No one had seen him until he spoke. 

“A mated pair huh?” 

Every head turned. 

A beat of silence, and then absolute chaos. 

There were shouts, gasps. Someone dropped the mask they had found for the extra ghoulette and it dented when it hit the ground. One Sister screamed. And the Cardinal, who had been so steady throughout the initial mess, met the ground with a quiet thud when he passed out in a mostly dignified way. 

The ghoul at the center of it all ginned, showing off his perfect row of sharp, gleaming teeth. Nothing hostile, just knowing. Like he understood something no one else in the room had realized. 

“Good luck with that,” he muttered, and then turned like he was already bored. 

That had been about two weeks ago, and Dew couldn’t remember now without laughing. 

Dew chuffs at the memory and affectionately headbutts Mountain's chest. 

“You just like his shiny teeth.” 

“Yeah,” Mountain says fondly, and Dew can practically hear the hearts in his eyes. 

“Freak.” 

Mountain laughs and leans back in Dew's arms, taking in his water features for the last time. The clarity of his horns, his wide sky-blue eyes, the pretty green freckles and stripes that decorate his blue-grey skin. Dew comes from the shallows, with shorter webbing between his fingers and toes. More land-like adaptations, due to the proximity. 

He's certain Dew will look just as striking once fire takes hold, if not more so with all the confidence he is sure to find in his new element.

“C'mon firelily, Aether should be about ready with the movie.”

Dew purrs and lets himself be pulled out of his room and down the hall, anxiety kept at bay by rising anticipation. 

Tomorrow will be the start of the rest of his life. 

So, what could possibly go wrong?

⋆⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺⋆

As the soft sounds of laughter echo down the hallway, a long shadow slinks back into a darker wing of the Ministry. Delta watches them go, unreadable eyes gleaming faintly in the gloom.

They don't sigh, or smile, or even blink, just turn, the beads and chains woven into their robes whispering with their movement. With quiet steps, they slip down a hidden corridor few even know exists anymore.

The Ministry Archives are not closed, exactly, but few bother to visit the deepest stacks where the oldest scrolls are kept in locked drawers, sealed with wax and cursed glyphs. Delta moves with familiarity, not needing light, their fingers brushing across labels written in a dozen dead languages. They find the drawer they want without hesitation.

Inside is a single folder, its contents humming faintly with trapped magic.

He removes a page. Faded, water-stained, but the name still shines faintly under enchantment:

Corentin Tempestas.

Delta’s scarred gills flutter once. Not with surprise, but anticipation.

They fold the paper with reverent care, then open a narrow cabinet hidden in the stone. Inside sit dozens of files. Some are marked with a red sigil. Others are burned around the edges. He files Rain’s under a new section: ACTIVE.

A whisper echoes through the corridor. The same word, over and over:

"convergence."

Delta smiles, just barely. The glamour flickers on his form for a second, revealing something far less aquatic, far more skeletal beneath.

Then it’s gone.

They close the cabinet, seal it with a murmur only the stones understand, and walk back into the halls above.

[oncewhenalongtimeago]

(SbITILYP request) I wonder what hiccup thinks about his dad burning holes into the back of the girl he has a crush on's head. Maybe Hiccup would try to apologize for it afterwards. + the almost-kissing-her thing

Sorry, but I Think I Lost Your Plot pt 21

Pairing: Onesided!Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Modern!Fem!Reader

Words: 2,700

Hiccup gets better at this romance thing.

Tags: Time Travel, Reader into Movieverse, Dragons: Defenders of Berk, Fright of Passage, post episode, Hiccup’s POV

<Previous - Next>

The incident with the Flightmare took up a lot of time and energy and after how quickly you’d fled once Thornado had landed back on Berk, he hadn’t seen you much at all, much less had time to talk to you.

He shifted on the short wooden bench, the unsanded grit of its surface and the uneven length of its legs causing it to feel odd and off balance as he shifted over it.

Hiccup glanced past the metal framing holding up an empty, crusted pot over the fire, whose heat was licking at his calves beneath his trousers and flickering against the majority of his torso.

He clutched a small, oblong glass shape as he glared forwards, cool against his skin through the fabric of his tunic, hidden away by his vest, securely stored in a secret pocket he’d sewed in for specifically this purpose.

The bioluminescent algae seemed to have been lost, for the most part.

The others had been a bit shifty around him, in a way that was more shifty than malicious. He had the sinking suspicion that they might’ve caught on to his little crush.

The heavy beating of boot and peg against old wooden floors. It was really ironic that the Chiefs; hut was the only one that hadn’t been burned on the regular. His Dad was very attentive towards his house.

His Dad’s face was set and shoulders hunched, a remnant from earlier when he had been awkwardly tending to his own meal.

Hiccup’s own face was slightly sour. He was still mad at his Dad for… everything.

Both Hiccup and Stoick ignored the sound of clattering dishes in the background.

Stoick grumbled as Hiccup’s expression turned just a bit scowlier, sitting in his large wooden chair which sometimes seemed yet as if it couldn’t hold every bit of him, across the fire pit from Hiccup, who had a bowl in his lap and was sitting in quite the hunched manner, “You like the… Delivery girl.”

“You know her?” Hiccup asked nervously, pulling at his tunic collar.

Stoick shifted, his brown fur cloak spilling over the arms of his chair.

“He has the lass come up here and clean around sometimes!” Gobber said, rifling around in one of the chests lining the wall, the horns of his helmet clattering against mounted shields and other sharp weapons and he turned carelessly, arms wide,

“What?!” Hiccup asked, voice pitch nearly at a screech.

He was scared immediately that you’d seen smoke things you shouldn't've. What had you seen?

Hiccup took a moment to pause and bring his voice down, maybe a bit deeper than it needed to be, even as his heart rate picked up.

“If you want ‘er, Ye need tae sweep her off her feet!” Gobber clapped Hiccup hard on the place shoulder met back, causing Hiccup to stumble forward as the big man swept his other arm outwards.

He grimaced.

He’d already been doing a good amount of sweeping. He doubted anyone would take well to being accosted in the way Gobber described. What did Gobber know about women, anyways?

He should put on his red tunic, though.

Hiccup was very attracted to that idea.

Oh, Gods, he really hoped you hadn’t seen too much.

“...Hey,” Hiccup said, looking at you, as always, basket in hand. A woven one this time, made of long grasses that brushed and scraped along the sides of your skirt.

He was sort of impressed with himself, and the fact that he hadn’t fumbled over anything at all yet.

You weren’t looking him in the eye at all, which meant he had definitely totally completely messed up.

“Hi,” You responded, voice pitched so he could tell you were nearly squeaking.

It only took a few days. That might have been to the effect of all the stuff he’d dumped in it, too.

The Flightmare left tracks, and from what little he could salvage- the spare scale, which was nearly translucent upon detachment, and some slime he picked up from some of the more plant-like dragons, he ended up being able to speed up the growth 

He’d… Nabbed some of Fishlegs’ notes for that. He wouldn’t mind. Hopefully.

Hiccup had lent him Toothless for the day, after all, albeit with more grump than was probably appropriate. 

The dragon seemed alright with it, too, ready to show off his tail, a sparking nadder blue, his replacement after the red one had been ripped back on Fireworm island.

Hiccup palmed the vial in his pocket, “I, ah…”

As an apology, he’d found someone willing to bring in some rose bushes. It took a lot, but it was worth it. For you, that was. He got some others in on it, though of course he never told them why. They didn’t have the bushes yet, but soon.

For the person you were, to him, even if you didn’t get it yet.

And he’d done something else, too.

He was going to try surprising you with it. Or not. 

He was worried he might scare you off.

“Sorry,” He started, “About my Dad. He’s just-Well, he’s…”

You shrugged balefully, “I get it? I’m not-...”

“Right,” Hiccup nodded, “Yeah, okay.”

It was silent for a few long moments.

You were both standing by the bridge out into the forest, the clear ends around it lined by trees, freshly planted.

At this point, the two of you had to have been experts in deciphering stutters and half-spoken words.

He could kill a large dragon and win over Astrid, but he couldn’t talk to you at all. He didn’t have the courage. Or, maybe it wasn’t about courage.

Hiccup wasn’t afraid. He wasn’t shy. 

He did stupid things all the time.

There was just something about you, or maybe something about him, that kept most things from coming out right. That made him just a little bit nervous. 

“I-well, I wanted to say sorry. Would you be fine following me for a bit?”

You paused for a second

“Just… Come on,” He said, somewhat hesitantly. He was sure by then his face was blotchy with flush, “It’s in the woods. Is that…?”

You nodded.

Hiccup held in a sigh of relief, “Alright. Well, then…”

Back in the village, it looked like a few vikings had taken to terraforming Berk, though you had no idea why. 

You weren’t sure where Toothless was. Probably… Off, 

Maybe they were inspired, you had no clue. Something about bushes or brushes or something and house paint.

You nearly tripped over a particularly large, gnarled root as you moved past Hiccup, holding aside a branch with leaves, half expecting to get murdered, or something. That’s what he brought you out into the woods for, right?

This was a particularly dark part of the forest, packed with leaves and moss in a way no spot on Berk had been before the Red Death had been defeated, with all the dragons burning most of everything down. 

It had already been darkening by the time Hiccup had asked you to follow, and though Hiccup had long since ceased to weird you out at all, the thoughts came unbidden.

You took a few steps forwards, shuffling slightly, looking around at the world, washed over with a blue filter, and at the vines crawling up the trees, before you paused, taking notice of a light, bright and gentle and nearly not there glowing against mottled bark.

You looked down, and then your eyes widened slightly.

You weren’t sure how you missed it, but below, there was a pool.

You stared down at it, glowing and dark under the canopy of the leaves above.

“So, what do you think?”

You heard Hiccup asked from behind you, his own boot and prosthetic shuffling against packed, fallen leaves and damp mulch.

Your face felt hot in a tingling, bright way as you stared down into the slowly moving water.

Was this all from the Flightmare?

It was something you might’ve seen in the news in the foreseen future, the same type of glow you’d see lurking inside a glow stick.

“Oh,” You said. You’d heard about it and you were sure all of the glowing algae had been washed out to sea. 

“I was hoping you’d like it,” Hiccup said hesitantly, “Do you?”

Your heart felt like it was on fire too, in the way that it only could when butterflies and bugs and other flighty, flippant nerve things were preening around in your organs.

Maybe Hiccup did like you, after all.

“Wow,” You stumbled forwards a few more feet until you were overlooking a small dirt ledge which had to be at least a yard tall, held together by roots and sticks and other dead plants. 

It overlooked the rest of the pond by a little bit, overseeing edges kept aloft in quite a similar fashion, like one of those deep, neverending kinds of pools made of a beautiful blue with no bottom, toeing the line between dangerous and beautiful that most people would only ever lay eyes on in photos. 

In this moment, perhaps heightened by the mood and atmosphere, everything felt a bit softer. You were sure the light of the pool was glittering back through your eyes, chest light and full of wonder and awe.

You said nothing yet, awkwardly turning so that your back hit the sturdy trunk of a large tree, sliding down slowly and displacing moss until you were sitting down against the uneven, steep packed, large roots of a tree, moss tickling your back through your shirt.

You felt like you might slide down into it if you loosened your legs just a bit from where they kept you steady, braced against moss and dirt. 

Small flecks of dirt tumbled down into the pool under them, hitting ferns and the occasional fungus, mushrooms that looked as if they’d just bud, hinting at a similar glow to the bright light of the pool as toes of your boots played a risky game with the dirt ledge over the pond.

“So... A good apology, all things considered?” He prompted. 

You nearly forgot about Hiccup, still standing by the streeline, which was, admittedly, also very close by the water. 

You brought your knees up to your chin, which you rested on top of your elbows, your cheeks feeling warm as you smiled into them, not in the hot way they had been just a moment before, but with a soft feeling that came from deep in your chest, feeling a lot like a crackling fire in the heart or the smell of a warm cup of cocoa, fluffy white marshmallows floating along the top.

You didn’t look over, but the hairs of your neck, which were standing, and a tickling in the corner of your still focused eye told you Hiccup was watching you. 

You wondered what his expression looked like. Was it fond, or goofy, or blank?

Did he feel anything at all at the sight? 

Had he really done this all for you?

The water rippled and the algae grew brighter as it did. There was a light dusting of blue foam across the surface and if you looked ever so slightly you could spot the occasional speck of something swimming around in the water, though you were sure it was too small to be a fish.

A sea monkey? A bug? A glowing speck?

You were certain it was not safe to swim in, but it was unbelievably gorgeous, framed by dipping and swaying ferns in the near complete darkness.

“Yeah,” You said mumbling into your elbow, noticing in your periphery as Hiccup moved forwards to stand by your side, “Yeah, I think so.”

You felt the hesitant dusting of a few fingers against your shoulder before they disappeared, twitching away and displacing the air by your ears, the feel of them there and gone causing all the hairs along your arm and neck to stand on end.

You found yourself tilting your head away from the touch, hiding the bashful flush of your face as Hiccup spoke again, “I also… I got you something else, too.”

You delicately took what was offered by a careful hand and held up the vial, smooth, clean and cool between your fingertips, a liquid inside glowing in a similar fashion to the pool in front of you and the mystical blue-washed world around.

Hiccup definitely wasn’t the type of guy to be able to keep something so clean- everything he had -books, blankets, papers, the occasional crafter compass for trade- they were all smudged by soot or the oil of skin and at the very least slightly folded in corners.

Against all odds, though, there it was. He must’ve taken great care with it.

You looked up at him.

You were sure you’d imagined it, because things like that didn’t happen in reality, and definitely not on the faces turned cartoon and whimsy to real and solid and in full, real life, completely discernable human graphic definition, but that glowing, sparkly feeling you were certain he clouds see plain as day- you felt fresh, believing for just a moment you could see it in his eyes too.

Hiccup’s head was in the clouds, his cheeks buzzing in a pleasant way, traveling up to his ears in a way that almost made him want to rub them, warm and heady and tingling in a way that was slightly ticklish.

His shoulder brushed against yours, your pinky fingers brushing together, slightly hooked, mimicking earlier when his fingers teased your palm in the imitation of a hold as the two of you walked back from the woods.

“Is it fine if we…” Your fingers came together again, the two of you turning to each other once the sound of boots and peg against wood turned into the softer, more muffled sound of weights padding against dirt.

Hiccup didn’t know he had it in him, but it was less an action made by choice and more led by an automatic zone, a feeling for what came next brought on by feeling and comfortability influenced by the ambiance, though that wasn’t to say he himself felt casual about it at all. 

Your hands were slightly shaky.

His heart was rocketing the whole time, blood pumping and beating in his eardrums.

“Separate?” Hiccup finished as you glanced off towards the darkened village, resisting the urge to shiver as a cool breeze blew by, fit to match the now dark sky, coming in from the side of him that faced the woods. 

On the other, closer to his back he noticed a very faint yellow light, warm and emanating from where he suspected the stairs to the hall lay, within which the larger half of Berk was most likely pulling together their nightly meal.

“You’ll be… fine?” He asked, breath nearly stuttering as the two of you tilted his head forwards, your foreheads so close they were nearly touching, “You can still- You can have my coat, still.”

“It’s okay,” You said, the focus of your eyes flickering from down by your hands to his face, before your hands separated.

“Thanks,” You said simply, before turning and walking forwards a few feet, a cool breeze causing your skirt to wave.

You glanced back as you left, unsure as if you were subconsciously asking if it was okay for you to leave.

Hiccup thought his legs might give out.

The night breeze was extra cold on Hiccup’s hands and back as he watched you go, though the warm, glowing feeling in his chest remained, moving down into the village, disappearing into the dark maze of alleys and open halls.

He was a night owl, as most of Berk tended to be after years of nightly raids. 

He wouldn’t be sleeping. 

He could work on blueprints for the sewage system. That was a whole project in and of itself. But with the tunnels below the village and all the dragon power they had in Berk, it might’ve just been doable. 

But as he stared out into the still quiet of the empty village, he realized he’d probably just be thinking about you instead.

[xbaba-yaga]

~ The ￦itch's Familiar ~

Familiar : A familiar is a spirit, often taking an animal form, that serves as a close companion and magical assistant to an individual. The relationship between a familiar and its Witch is often depicted as symbiotic, with the familiar assisting in magical practices, protection, healing, and divination. Familiars are frequently believed to be spirits that have shared lifetimes with their Witch companion or are specifically assigned to them for this purpose.

Origin : Paredros /Parhedros/ A term found in the Greek Magical Papyri (PGM), referring to a type of supernatural or divine assistant used by magical practitioners. The word itself is an adjective meaning "sitting beside or near," and in the PGM it describes a spirit or deity who serves the ritualist's will and aids in magical operations. These texts date from the 2nd century BCE to the 5th century CE and are written primarily in Greek, with occasional passages in Demotic Egyptian, Coptic, and other languages. alexander-the-great.org/artifacts

Spirit Guide : A spirit guide is a broader term for any nonhuman or human entities that reside in the spiritual realm and make their wisdom available to the living, providing guidance and support to a living person or Witch on their spiritual journey. Spirit guides belong to many religions such as Buddhism and Monotheism for example. Spirit guides act as mentors, offering wisdom, encouragement, often said to be assigned to an individual or drawn to them due to a shared spiritual path or connection.

Origin : The concept of spirit guides, entities that offer guidance and support, has roots in various spiritual and cultural traditions throughout history. While the specific terminology and interpretations vary, the core idea of non-physical beings assisting humans is a recurring theme. Indigenous cultures, ancient civilizations, and modern spiritual movements all contribute to the diverse origins of this belief. encyclopedia.com/religion/legal-and-political-magazines/spirit-guides

Can a Spirit Guide be a Familiar? Yes! In modern Paganism and witchcraft, spirit guides can indeed be considered familiars. While the term "familiar" traditionally referred to a physical animal companion, it has evolved to encompass spirit allies who assist with magic, protection, and spiritual guidance. These spirit familiars can be animal spirits, ancestors, or other entities that offer support and partnership in one's spiritual practice. Keira O'Connell

You may not be able to collect any physical samples for spell casting, like fur or old nail clippings. Or can you? Spell work that requires heavy visualization... Ah, who are we kidding? All spells require heavy visualization and deep concentration. You can visually collect samples from your spirit guides and work it into your intent or ritual. This is also beneficial for types of 'Water Witches' or Witches like me, who are deeply rooted in their element, water. Use a spirit guide or get yourself an aquarium with fresh or sea water animals. Keep them close by and visualize working with them (as you should not pet or take anything off of them, depending on the animal) instead, next time the tank is dirty collect a small sample of algae or the water itself before cleaning the tank. Or on the next moon phase dig a pebble or stone out of the tank. For these things have collected some of the life essence from your familiar.

~ The Black Cat ~

The black cat's association with witches as familiars has roots in historical superstitions and beliefs, particularly during the Middle Ages and early modern period. Some trace the connection back to Ancient Egypt and Norse mythology. Ancient Egyptians revered cats of all colors, including black cats, and considered them sacred. They were closely associated with the Goddess Bastet, who was often depicted with a cat's head and was a protector of homes and fertility. While the Norse Goddess Freyja, associated with witchcraft, was said to ride a chariot pulled by cats... Once Monotheistic religions took foothold of the divine the legions of followers strong armed nations into their churches. The symbolism of the Black Cat took a dark turn for many generations after. It was believed that witches could transform into cats, or that cats served as their helpers, participating in dark magic and even causing harm. Cats, especially black cats, were often associated with the night and the supernatural, leading to suspicions about their role in witchcraft. During the witch trials in Europe and later in the American colonies, black cats were frequently found in the company of accused witches and were often seen as evidence of their connection to the occult. The belief that black cats could bring bad luck, illness, or even death further fueled the fear and negative perception of these beautiful animals. While black cats are no longer widely seen as inherently evil, the negative superstitions surrounding them persist in some areas, particularly in Western cultures. Thankfully, despite this, black cats are also seen as symbols of good luck and prosperity in other cultures. As they should be... · msj.edu/news/2024/02/the-power-of-black-cats.html · history.com/articles/black-cats-superstitions · feralwoodwitch.com/cats-and-magic/

[raintailed]

Thinkin about those pipe-cleaning slugs that Moon talks about...

The pipe-cleaner slugs were essentially a "first draft" for piperats and are, in a way, their predecessors.

They were created very early on in the history of bio-engineering. At the time there wasn't advanced simulation technology like what iterators have, so the only real way to test a draft for a purposed organism was to create the organisms and study them.

The pipe-cleaner slugs worked well for clearing biofilm from the insides of pipes, but the problem is that pipe-cleaning requires more than just scraping off layers of microorganisms. The slugs were unsuitable for addressing things like roots growing into pipes, objects lodged inside pipes, etc. They also weren't too good at navigating and reproduced quickly, resulting in the slugs colonizing pipes and needing to be cleaned out themselves!

And so, the pipe-cleaner slug plans were redesigned into a completely new creature, which was more versatile and far more intelligent: piperats.

The original draft for pipe-cleaner slugs weren't completely scrapped, however. The blueprints were later refined into a new species: snails. The snails are designed to not only eat algae/biofilms/lichen, but also barnacle-like organisms and rock/metal debris. Snails' shells repurpose the calcium and metals from their diet. Also, snails have remained largely unchanged since they were created, although there are some new species that have evolved since then.

Tldr: the pipe-cleaner slugs were a first draft for piperats. The original blueprints were later reworked into snails.

[darkness-and-lavender]

Cycle 4- A Loser Doesn’t Need An Encore

Knelt upon a well-worn, grey wool mat on the cold stone floor and welding a few metal pieces to her friend’s moped was Veronika. Her tired faint green eyes behind her amber goggles were locked in focus, oblivious to her cluttered basement room of the castle and all goings on beyond its aged grey brick walls.  

 The majority of the room’s light came from Veronika’s goggles and the sparks that shot every which way from her torch. The four semi-circle windows atop the walls had cracked plastic blinds before them that let in minute daylight. Like everything else in the room, the sun bleached, blue blinds had collected many layers of dust and hadn’t seen a cleaning since before the war.

 Many mechanical projects Veronika had worked on and other projects she planned to surely continue surrounded her workspace, each covered in a dusty green tarp. Tools serving various purposes were scattered across her room’s barely visible floor and unmade bed. Dishes with unfinished meals caked upon them coated her floor as well. If not for Veronika’s slithering companion; a tree cobra named Chania, then the room would have surely fallen victim to a rodent infestation.

 Veronika pulled a dirty rag from the side pocket of her forest green leather pants with her free hand and used it to wipe the sweat beads that accumulated atop her pale forehead. Rogue strands of her unkempt, sunrise orange hair had come free from her frizzled mess of a ponytail and stuck to the sides of her freckled face.

 The distraction of her hair caused her to take her eyes off her work for the first time in hours. She gazed upon the wooden shelves on her walls, fully stocked with many trophies and awards she earned in the past, now unceremoniously left to be claimed by dust and webs of long deceased spiders.

 She sighed at the sight and did the best to advert her eyes for if she did not, a tidal wave of memories of times no longer and never would be again would crush her and what little happiness remained inside her.

 Veronika resumed her work, though the memories of the past she couldn’t shake. The times four years ago when she knew little of the Aethren Empire and the continent of Eun as a whole. When her Chief father was a brave, selfless leader and loved his family dearly. When her mother didn’t have to do everything herself and wasn’t obsessed with war. When her older brother Clyde was himself and didn’t put up a false persona. Even if his true self was a little on the mad side, she loved him nonetheless.

 Her Isle home of Harrow had become a strange land full of new and foreign buildings and people from the Empire, replacing those and everything else that was lost.

 Tears had begun to collect at the bottom of her goggles, she hadn’t noticed she’d been crying.

 A warm, familiar sensation of slithering scales she felt against her backside, a second later Chania stuck her little head out the thick, oversized sleeve of Veronika’s algae green, striped turtleneck. Her little golden serpent eyes looked up at her owner in concern.

 Veronika clicked off her blowtorch and turned her attention to her dear snake. 

 “Oh Chania, sometimes I feel it’s only you who gets me…” Veronika gingerly stroked her head with a finger. The light from her goggles lit up the deep green, gold and black scales upon Chania’s head.

 Chania’s extended herself into the touch, her night black, forked tongue tasting the room’s stagnant air.

 Veronika smiled weakly at her. “Maybe you’re right, maybe I could use a break”.

 She pulled her goggles down to her neck, removed her leather mechanic gloves and tossed them on top a pile of dirty laundry not far from her. Chania crawled out her sleeve and burrowed into the pile.

 Veronika had always found it unique that Chania preferred burrowing herself instead of slithering all over her shelves. Tree Cobras were arboreal creatures after all.

 Carefully, Veronika rested her head against the laundry to not disturb Chania and retrieved her phone from her pants pocket. The artificial light given off by the screen caused her to squint.

 A few unread messages from her mother and Clyde flashed on the screen, her undivided attention on her work must have made her unaware when the phone buzzed. It was far from the first time she was oblivious to her phone and her friends and family had gotten familiar to her tardiness at responding.        

Sent 2 hours ago

Mom: Hey Roni, going to Rain’s

Sent 2 hours ago

Mom: Feel free to drop in if you want. I’m sure Suvi can use the company.

 Oh, right, something had happened with Suvi. Veronika remembered Clyde had spoken of something about it to her earlier before he went out, but now she couldn’t by the life of her recall what was said.

 She decided to not reply to her mother, seeing how the texts were already two hours old.

 …And totally not because she couldn’t handle knowing more about the reality outside of her bedroom.

 Veronika clicked the next message, sent by her brother.

Sent 26 minutes ago

Clyde: hey, heading to donnes to pick you up supper for i am certain youve not eaten

Sent 23 minutes ago

Clyde: i assume you’re at home?

 Veronika quickly replied

Veronika: yes! im sorry for keeping you waiting! thank you! <3

 Clyde was too nice to her. She felt like she was deep in his debt already for every meal he bought, for every part he retrieved for her for her projects and for all the times he’s stood up for her towards their father who only seemed to notice her when he needed someone to poke fun at.   

 Clyde’s constant reminders to her not to sweat the petty things and to not pet the sweaty things had never helped lessen the guilt.

 She snapped her phone shut and placed it beside her. Her eyes had become heavier with fatigue. Perhaps she could sneak in a swift nap before her brother’s arrival.

 Veronika turned on her side and let herself fall into slumber.

___

 Clonk! Clonk! Clonk!

 Veronika’s eyes darted opened from the sound that torn her from her sleep.

 “Y-Yes? Clyde, is that you?”

 “Indeed it is” She heard her brother’s deep voice from behind the door. It was honestly his most masculine feature.

 She removed the sleeping Chania that she just now noticed upon her stomach and put her onto the laundry pile before she rose to her feet.

 “Come in! It’s unlocked!”

 Clyde entered the room, a white plastic bag with the Donnes logo in each hand.

 Wow did he look a mess! All the black makeup that he spent at least thirty minutes every morning applying with great precision had turned to dark rivers upon his cheeks and chin. His hair was a frizzled disaster, but still nowhere as bad as hers.

 The heavy scent of whiskey that waft off his figure didn’t surprise Veronika whatsoever, nor did it bother her. She knew about his alcoholic immunity.

 Clyde placed a bag upon the nearest table that wasn’t entirely cluttered.

 “They really didn’t have a lot in stock this time of night, at least not in the lines of healthy eats.”

 Veronika peered into the bag on the table. In it there was a medium sized Styrofoam container, labelled as Deep fried haggis sticks with chips & mild Gajahian spiced sauce. Next to it was a half-litre bottle of orange soda and two deep fried peanut butter and chocolate bars in semi-transparent parchment paper, one of the guiltiest of all her pleasures.

 She returned her gaze to her brother 

 “Thank you again for all of this…”

 Her eyes drifted towards the bag that remained in Clyde’s hand, it contained only a six pack of stout.

 “Did you already eat, Clyde?”

 Clyde shook his head.

 “’Haven’t had the appetite. It was another one of those meetings.”

 “Ahh… What exactly happened?” She glanced at the floor, feeling anxious she even had to ask something she should have already known.

 Clyde sighed, his expression had fallen to melancholy. Veronika attempted to inform him he did not need to say anything if it bothered him, but he spoke first.

 “You remember Sean, right? A close friend to Suvi, ‘had been here a few times dropping off supplies under father’s nose.”

 She couldn’t honestly recall him, but remained silent.

 Clyde continued “He was murdered in some sick act plotted by the occupation. Suvi was arrested too, but Kuunya apparently killed a few soldiers to free her”

 She swore she saw a rumour of a smile upon his face after the last sentence.

 “So again, father dragged me to another meeting where Olivius and his bellend cronies shifted all responsibilities of Sean’s murder off of themselves. Same song, different verse, as always.”

 Veronika felt she shouldn’t have asked. No matter how bad the situation in Harrow was, it seemed to always find a way to worsen. She would have lost her appetite too if she hadn’t gone all day without eating.

 “A-Are Suvi and Kuunya alright, at least?”

 Clyde nodded “Physically. Olivius plans to trial them both. If Rain and Mum have any say in that, then I strongly doubt it’ll happen anytime soon.”

 She cupped her face in her hands, a sign to Clyde that she wanted to hear no more. Clyde approached her and placed a hand softly upon her shoulder. She would lean into him.

 “D-Do you think everything will soon reach the tipping point? Mum grows angrier every night, Rain will too after what’s all happened, and Dad is…”

 “At an Imperial brothel, again.” Clyde interrupted, wiping a tear from Veronika’s eye.

 Veronika let out a muffled groan. She knew that would do the opposite to quell her mother’s rage.       

 “I however, would like to believe we’ve approached the tipping point. None of us can live any longer under this occupation.”

 That was not the answer Veronika wanted to hear but should have expected. She did not want any more conflict. She couldn’t bear to see another familiar face buried. She felt herself grow faint and Clyde noticed it too. He sat her down gingerly at the table.

 “I’ll leave you to your supper. You’ll be okay though, right?”

 Veronika nodded slowly and took a sip from her soda.        

 Clyde ventured back towards the door and glanced back to her one last time.

 “Tha gaol agam ort, a phiuthar.”

 Veronika smiled faintly and with that, he exited.

___

 It had been nearly an hour since Veronika had begun her meal. She had always been a slow eater no matter how hungry she was. Chania rested at the other end of the table, her three foot long body comfortably coiled. Veronika fed her earlier in the day so she knew she wasn’t hungry.

 Veronika leaned back in her chair, her eyes stared blankly at the wooden beams in her ceiling. She had been deep within her thoughts, what Clyde had told her about her pseudo-siblings, about Sean and about the tipping point being reached repeated like a broken record in her mind.         

 “Even if Harrow’s entire population rebelled against the Empire would it be enough? How long would we be able to hold out for? Would we have any allies? Would any of us survive?”

 Would the project she had been working on in the garage under her room in secret from her family even amount to anything at this point? Would it even help if an uprising occurred?

 She melted off her chair onto the floor, her expression heavy with anxiety.

 “Chania, did I do it again? Did I start another project just to have it inevitably blow up in my face? Am I forever an eejit?”

 Chania slithered off the table and crawled up to Veronika’s side. She tilted her little snakey head in question.

 Veronika turned her head to face her “You can’t fly a jet, can you girl?”

 To this, Chania just flicked her tongue.

 “I guess that makes two of us” Veronika sighed and crawled over to where she had been adding the finishing touches to Kuunya’s moped.

 She reequipped her goggles and gloves, grabbed a can of black spray paint and continued her work on the moped. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to stay in blissful ignorance for a little while longer. 

End Cycle 4

[aquabead]

Aqua Bead Filters: The Ultimate Solution Filter For Pond Pump System

Filtration is essential to keeping pond water healthy and clear. Filters help remove debris, prevent clogs, reduce algae growth and provide oxygen to underwater plants. Select a filter whose capacity matches that of your Filter For Pond Pump volume, taking into account any fish stocking levels or adding a model if necessary.

Pump

▸Introduction to Pond Pumps: Filter For Pond Pump are recirculating pumps used for powering waterfalls and fountains as well as filtering the water in garden ponds, as well as filtering it. Pond Pumps are integral in maintaining healthy fish & wildlife in the garden pond; running 24/7 to filter the water and regularly cleaning out pre-filters is required to do this effectively. However, clear water does not necessarily signify healthy fish; regular testing of your water quality as well as seeking advice if your fish seem lethargic are essential components to good pond maintenance.

▸Capturing Debris for Clear Water: Filter For Pond Pump come equipped with mechanical, chemical and biological filtration systems for maximum clarity of water in your pond. Filter pads capture large debris as well as smaller particles before passing over bio-balls to biologically filter out debris – creating the clearest water possible for your aquatic habitat. Some filters even come equipped with built-in skimmer for easy surface debris removal.

▸Chemically Compatible Materials for Increased Resistance: Some of the latest models feature chemically compatible materials to increase resistance against harmful substances found in liquids that need to be pumped, and an air gap between their motor and pump chamber to minimize heat transfer as well as noise and vibrations.

▸Choosing the Right Pond Pump: Your choice of Filter For Pond Pump will depend on the size and purpose of your pond. Magnetic drive pumps are generally more durable and energy efficient; however they don’t lift water to heights beyond 2m. Direct Drive pumps may provide better water lift at greater head heights but don’t offer as much efficiency in energy savings as magnetic drive pumps do.

Pre-Filter

▸Introduction to Pre-Filters: Pre-filters, also referred to as sediment filters, remove dirt, sand, rust, silt and other large suspended particles from water before it enters your primary filtration system. By doing so they protect it from becoming clogged up while providing cleaner and higher quality water for your home.

▸Pre-Filters for Private Well Owners: Homeowners with private wells use pre-filters to capture iron and debris that enters their water system from their well, protecting equipment and avoiding costly service calls to their home.

▸Pre-filters, also referred to as catch all filters:  Are constructed from materials like polypropylene that can easily be washed – ideal for homes with pets and those suffering from respiratory conditions as they capture large particles such as hair, dust and lint.

Biological Filter

▸Breaking Down Organic Pollutants: Biological Filter For Pond Pump use beneficial bacteria to break down organic pollutants in the water, providing an effective means of purification. They work best when combined with mechanical and pre-filters for an integrated filtering system.

▸Ensuring Adequate Oxygen Supply: Installing a biological Filter For Pond Pump requires careful consideration to ensure it’s placed appropriately in your water feature and receiving adequate oxygen. Furthermore, its pump should be powerful enough to push nutrient-rich water through it as without this action, the bacteria would quickly consume all their oxygen supply and die.

▸The Power of Billions of Bacteria in Biological Filtration: To be effective, biological Filter For Pond Pump requires billions of bacteria working together to cleanse the water. Since bacteria attach themselves to surfaces like filter media, rocks, or gravel, surface area is a crucial component in this process – thus justifying why ponds with gravel on their bottom are preferable over those without.

▸Removing Nitrates for Clean and Clear Water: After bacteria have broken down harmful nutrients, they will convert them to nitrates for consumption by aquatic plants and algae during their growth processes. De-nitrification then removes them from the pond through anaerobic areas without oxygen; an integral part of keeping your water clean and clear.

UV Clarifier

▸Addressing the Issue of Green Water: Green murky water can be the bane of every water garden owner’s existence. Green water is caused by single-celled algae settling to the bottom and can occur even with an effectively balanced ecosystem pond system.

▸Reduced Maintenance and Crystal-Clear Water: A UV clarifier works to eliminate green water by killing off algae before it can form blooms that stain the water’s surface and result in green streaks. This solution is great for ponds predisposed to green water or those looking to reduce maintenance while still having crystal-clear waters.

▸UV Clarifiers as Sterilizers, Not Filters: Though commonly mistaken as filters, UV clarifiers should actually be seen as sterilizers rather than filters. UV lights work by killing any undesirable organisms. For optimum performance and increased lifespan of the light itself it is advised that an appropriate amount of wattage be chosen according to your pond size.

▸Size Options for Pond UV Clarifiers: There are various sizes of UV clarifiers to choose from when it comes to pond UV clarifiers, and you can either purchase standalone units or ones as part of a Filter/UV combo package. It is essential that the flow rate of your pump matches up with that recommended by the UV unit’s manufacturer; usually this information can be found either within their product description or directly on it.

Why Choose Aqua Bead!

In terms of pond pump filtration systems, Aqua Bead by Filter is head and shoulders above the competition. Aqua Bead by Filter is highly recommended for pond owners for multiple reasons.  The helpful bacteria that inhabit the huge surface area created by these beads efficiently break down hazardous elements and keep the water clear. The second reason is that  filters work so well and last so long. Their filtration performance remains ideal even when subjected to heavy water flows.  Plus, you won’t have to spend as much time Aqua Bead cleaning and maintaining your pond when you use Aqua Bead filters.

[cl0ckworkpuppet]

ranking things the zoo guests do/say/ask on a regular basis

for context, i work at a zoo, and people are fucking insane

"can we pet them?": 3/10. no, you can't. the signs say you can't. but I commend you for asking. If you ask after you've already pet one, though, -8/10. do better.

"i think there's a nursery rhyme about the kookaburra!": 5/10. cool trivia fact! if you actually start singing it, though, 1/10. cool you actually know it, but please stop

"garfunkel, huh? where's simon?": -10000/10. You Suck. I hate when people ask me this and I hate them personally. Because of this job I now have a vendetta against Simon and Garfunkel.

(starts playing kookaburra noises on their phone speaker): 2/10. clever, but annoying. also, doesn't work if you're trying to get them to make noise. they only laugh when no one is watching them.

"well, one of 'em over there let me pet 'em just fine!": -6/10. you did not have to tell me you did that. and just by that description, i know it was garfunkel, who is usually resting because He Is Overheated. animals laying down is not an open invitation to come pet them.

"i was just taking pictures!": 0/10. you can take pictures from the designated guest path. Stay On It.

"can we pet the swans?": just for this question specifically, -16/10. are you fucking kidding me? can you pet the swans? ask me that question again but slowly.

"garfunkel?? they need to get some spaghetti, cuz that's not quite italian enough!": 10000/10. i've only ever heard this once, and it was today from a 13 year old, but I genuinely had to stop myself from bursting out laughing on the job

"are the emus friendly?": 4/10. Australia lost a war to them for a reason.

"why aren't the animals in cages?": -5/10. first of all, we don't cage animals, we keep them in habitats. second of all, this is the Australia Walkabout. Where you Walk About with the Australian animals. You came in here for that exact purpose.

"i don't like birds": -7/10. not because you're afraid, birds are a totally normal thing to dislike. i'm just baffled why you came into an enclosure full of many many free roaming birds if you are afraid of them

"why is the swan pond so dirty?": 1/10. first of all, that is algae, and in small amounts it's not bad at all. it's pretty natural, especially for a giant pond directly in the sun. but more importantly, it is hundreds of gallons, and we cannot put chlorine in it, and it is not feasible to clean every day. we do clean it multiple times a week, but it gets especially bad after storms or heavy rain

"will the budgies poop on me?": 7/10. valid concern, actually. budgies shit every 10-15 minutes. maybe. i've had it happen plenty of times before to guests and especially myself. to answer their question, you'll only get pooped on if you stand directly under them. they don't shit while flying so ur good

"can my child ride the [emu/wallaby/giraffe]?": -284/10. i don't know what kind of cocaine you need to be on to ask me this question seriously, or especially to expect the answer to be yes, but even as a joke this question isn't funny. if i had a nickel for every time i was asked this question, i'd have a quarter

"will the giraffes bite me if i feed them?": 8/10. no, they physically can't. nor do they want to. but it's a valid question; they're pretty big animals to be feeding so carelessly. you'll probably get licked though

(does an australian accent): just because it barely ever happens, 8/10. you'd think it'd happen more often, but no. i've only ever got it a couple times. i rank it so high because hearing these guys try and fail to do an accent makes me laugh so hard

"are you a farmer?": 9999/10. little kids ask me this question when they see my safari hat. makes my day every time.

"are these kangaroos?": 5/10. on one hand, fine. not everyone knows the difference between kangaroos and wallabies. since wallabies are like a quarter of the size of roos, they're often mistakenly called baby kangaroos. plus they're in the same family and look very similar. on the other hand, do you honestly think we'd be stupid enough to put actual fucking kangaroos in with guests walking around freely without an enclosure? be for real

"do these wallabies have pouches?": 3/10. fine question, but these guys have comically large balls

"is that wallaby dead?": 4/10. no, that's garfunkel. he sleeps all the time. i promise he's ok.

"can we pet the budgies?": 2/10. you're welcome to try, but even i can't get them on a seed stick let alone touch them

"can we grab the budgies out of the air?": -999999999/10. Explode.

"don't you hate how the animals are treated in zoos?": -999999/10. you are not the PETA warrior you think you are. when executed properly, they can be really good for the animals inside of them. natural does not necessarily mean good, nor does unnatural necessarily mean bad. that's called a Logical Fallacy. some of these animals Cannot Be Released. please do any amount of research on zoos and aquariums that are not seaworld or the once in a while shitshows

"what year do you graduate high school?": -infinity/10. i am in College.

"when i was younger, budgie feeding was one dollar each, not two!": -18/10. that was in 1943, grandma. plus i'm just some guy. what do you want me to do about that?

"can i have a seed stick for free?": if you're an adult, -10/10. No. if you're a child, 10/10. No (wink and passes under table).

"can you break a hundred?": -100/10. No.

"i like your hat": 10/10. thank you! i like yours too!

"that's a cool pin you have!": 10000/10. my pins are all pronouns and trans flags. i love you.

(sees me cleaning the budgie aviary) (looks at their kid) "See that man in there? If you don't behave, I'll force you to have his job.": -infinity plus one/10. First of all, fuck you for shitting on janitorial positions. I'm sure you would prefer to not step in bird shit. Second of all, I'm not a janitor. Third of all, fuck you for getting your child to behave using fear tactics and threats. Fourth of all, I love my job. I tell these kids and parents straight up to their face that I do. That this isn't everything I have to do in my job. Some parts might be dirty, but that's okay, and no one's job is ever something to be laughed at. One kid told their parent after I told them everything I get to do in my job that they actually want my job when they grow up. That parent was furious. Good. Fuck you, Karen, for shitting on workers that only help make your experience more enjoyable. I've only gotten this three times, thank god, but holy shit. The entitlement of these people is fucking insane

anyway i might think of more later

[spookyshipperfics]

Unprofessional

Find it: a03 / Fandom: The X-Files / Rating: Explicit

Part of the Do You Like Scary Movies? series

Tagging @today-in-fic

What is it About? Scully isn't happy when a case sends them to a New Orleans swamp. She's even less thrilled when a local tour guide gets the hots for Mulder and invites him to dinner.

Read a Sample: A woman’s arm had been discovered on the outskirts of a campground. Scully suggested an alligator attack; Mulder rambled about folkloric legends. She ordered the nearby swamp to be dredged while Mulder sought the expertise of a local tour guide with a pretty face and a southern twang. Marybeth ran a haunted boat tour, and Scully suffered through eye-rolling tales. Somehow a man who haunted the swamps and killed anyone unlucky enough to enter his vague supernatural territory became their top suspect. When Marybeth mentioned an old, spooky cabin, Scully’s eyes narrowed. Mulder’s widened.

Mulder was her constant opposite. What fascinated him only annoyed her. What sent him barreling ahead had her gripping a crumbling surface. In some twisted way, it worked for them—or it usually did. Things got messy when someone else stepped into their universe, sending their tight, little world tipping on its axis. Scully watched Marybeth touch Mulder’s arm, fingers closing around his forearm as they hunched over a map. It was Dr. Berenbaum all over again. The laughing. The looks. Suddenly Bambi didn’t seem like such a ridiculous name.

“We should discuss this over dinner and drinks later,” Marybeth whispered to her partner. Scully stormed out before she heard Mulder’s response.

She hadn’t even wanted to come to Louisianna, never mind a New Orleans forest where trees gave way to algae-covered swamps, and reeds grew as tall as her disdain. Yet, she’d let Mulder drag her. Pull her. Verbally coerce with a boyish smile and puppy dog eyes.

She let it happen again after lunch. Her previous mistake repeated as he led her from the campground, where the trails were overgrown and wild.

“Marybeth says there is a cabin out this way, Scully.”

She could hardly suppress her eye roll, barely bit her tongue. Marybeth had gone home. These neglected trails were apparently no place for pretty tour guides. Scully marched ahead, her heels sinking into the marshy ground. She tried to ignore Mulder’s purposeful lagging the same way she attempted to quell the twisting sensation in her heart.

We should discuss this over dinner and drinks later.

The heat was oppressive. The smell was earthy. She couldn’t hear herself think over the unrelenting orchestra of cicadas. They weren’t dressed for this. Dry-cleaned slacks and silk blouses were laughably unsuitable. She whipped around to find Mulder, suit jack thrown across his shoulder and shirt unbuttoned too low. Scully felt as tight and taut as a rubber band. His pushed-up sleeves revealed toned forearms, and when she thought about Marybeth touching him there, she finally snapped.

“This is pointless, Mulder. We’re getting too far from the crime scene.” She pointed in the direction they’d come. Somewhere, not far, police officers were doing real work. Forensics was sweeping the area, yellow crime scene tape creating a boundary that did not account for supernatural meddling.

“You want to go back?”

Yes, she wanted to go back. She also wanted to scream. “If legend is to be believed, your ghost cabin is ten miles north of here.”

“But Marybeth said—”

Scully scoffed, couldn’t help it. “Mulder, that woman is either mistaken or misleading you.”

“Misleading me? For the purpose of what?”

“Maybe so she has something to discuss over dinner and drinks.” The ending of her sentence was sharp like a razor blade, intended to wound even if she had no real reason to draw blood. They were just partners. He owed her nothing. “What you do on your own time is no business of mine, but when you bring me into it, it becomes unprofessional.”

“This isn’t about Marybeth; this is about the case. So, I think it’s you who is mistaken.”

“Am I, Mulder?” She tossed her hands out to the side. “Because here I am, standing in the middle of some swamp looking for a ghost after watching you and Marybeth batting eyelashes at each other all morning. Like I said, it’s unprofessional.”

“Unprofessional,” he huffed. “You’re the one who’s been borderline rude since we got here.”

She’d been caught. Defeated. Her envy was on full display. Mulder grabbed her shoulder, rooting her in place before she could run.

“What’s going on?”

His arm dropped, but his voice was like a chain, his question a shackle. Her feet felt as heavy as her pounding heart.

“It’s nothing,” she insisted.

“Come on, Scully. What is it?”

His iron hold burnt her skin. The invisible chain between them clanged and rattled. She wanted to pull him closer but knew she couldn’t. The FBI forbade it. Her own stupid heart forbade it, too. “It’s nothing,” she repeated, this time louder.

“You’re lying.”

Suddenly, she hoped this ghost would appear, that he’d yank her into the water and far away from Mulder’s prying eyes. His gaze pierced her shell. It grated and tore at her cold exterior.

Her fists clenched in defiance as he took a step closer. “Why are you lying to me, Scully? What’s going on?”

“I’m jealous,” she practically yelled. Her cheeks burned, and her skin burst into flames. She couldn’t hold his stare any longer. It’s why she didn’t realize he’d approached until he was already there.

The tilt of her head was met by the crash of his mouth. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet. And when he pulled back to gauge her reaction, she closed the distance. Her mouth found his again, her tongue making up for all the complicated, messy feelings she couldn’t say out loud.

Find the rest on a03

[how-to-clean-water-tank]

How To Clean Water Tank

Introduction:

Clean water tanks is important yet we should often keep on maintaining the water and we should ensure the quality of water is suitable for drinking water and daily purposes . In this comprehensive guide let us discuss about What is water tank cleaning , its essential and its importance.

What Is Water Tank Cleaning service?

It refers of hiring the professionals who cleans water tanks bythe process of removing mud, dirt, sediments, algae, bacteria everything from water storage tanks. These tanks can be found in residential buildings, commercial buildings, factories, So it is essential to ensure the water they store which remains pure and safe for consumption.

Why Is Water Tank Cleaning Important?

1 Water Quality:-

Over the period of time without cleaning the tanks , the water stored in it will be getting contaminated with mud, dirt, bacteria, etc. Which in return makes the water quality poor and makes the drinking water foul taste

2. Health Concerns:-

Waterborne diseases like cholera and typhoid can be caused by consuming contaminated water which has algae , bacteria etc. Well, Regular cleaning helps to prevent these health risks.

3. Efficient Water Flow:=-

Clean tanks ensure efficient water flow and adequate pressure in pipelines, preventing plumbing issues and water wastage.

4. Tank Longevity:-

Regular maintenance, including cleaning, can extend the lifespan of water tanks, saving you money on repairs and replacements.

What is Water Tank Cleaning Process:

The process of cleaning a water tank involves the following steps:

1. Draining: The tank is emptied of all water to start access the cleaning process

2. Scrubbing: The side walls of the tank are scrubbed to remove dirt. This can be done manually or with the help of scrubber.

3. Disinfection: After cleaning, the net step is to disinfectant the tank to kill the remaining bacteria or algae. This is usually done using correct chlorine levels or other chemical disinfections.

4. Rinsing: The tank is thoroughly rinsed to remove any traces of cleaning agents or disinfectants.

5. Refilling: Finally, the tank is refilled with clean water.

What is Water Tank Cleaning machine:

The machines used in cleaning water are

Submersible Pump

Pressure Washer

Scrubber

Vacuum Cleaner

UV light

Frequency of Water Tank Cleaning:

The frequency of cleaning your water tank depends on several factors like the capacity of the tank, the quality of the water source,. In general, residential tanks should be cleaned at least once a year, while commercial and industrial tanks may require more often cleaning.

How to clean water tank at home easily:

Empty the water tank

hard brush the side walls of the tank

take out all the dirt from the tank with vacuum cleaner

wash the tank with the clean water

leave it to dry

How to clean water tank without removing water:

Add vinegar to the water which helps to remove the algae and bacteria.

Professional vs. DIY Cleaning:

While some homeowners attempt to clean their water tanks themselves, Which is quiet risky ,it's often safer and more effective to hire professionals. Professional cleaning services have the expertise, equipment, and materials necessary to ensure a safely dispose of liquid waste and unclean water by giving proper water treatment

Conclusion:

In summary, cleaning of water tank is an essential process that ensures the quality, safety, and efficiency of your water tank. Regular cleaning helps maintain clean and healthy water, prevents waterborne diseases, and to increase the lifespan of your water storage tank. Whether you have a small residential tank or a large industrial one, prioritizing cleaning of water tank is a responsible choice that benefits both your health and the environment.

For professional cleaning services in Bengaluru, you can get a free Quote on B Tank Cleaning Services. We offer modern solutions to keep your water tanks clean and your water supply safe. Don't hesitate to contact us for expert assistance in maintaining a healthy water supply for your home or business.

[maligatorthealligator]

So I live in South Florida where we actually do need our roofs to withstand high pressure water+wind force regularly (multiple times a year from hurricanes and tropical depressions). There's also a high proportion of condominiums and home owners associations. We ALSO have a high proportion of metal and ceramic roofs plus high humidity that leads to algae growth that's very noticeable when it's on a light colored ceramic tile.

All HOAs and condos in the area I live in require roof cleanings every few years (like 1-5ish depending on the community. Some do a schedule and some just send out violation letters when someone's roof is dirty). This happens with a pressure/power washer. Most often on a medium setting and most often with chemical help to minimize water intrusion risk. I believe that on a standard architectural tile (asphalt shingle) this can void your warranty and home insurance coverage for exactly the reasons that op pointed out, however on the metal and ceramic tile roofs, no one here has issues unless there's a damaged section from some kind of large debris or a person who wasn't being careful and damaged the roof while they were on it.

The type of roof and the building code in your area does matter. So does the age of your roof and whether it needs maintenance or not. For example: metal roofs can have either standing seams or not. Standing seams cover all the screws. No standing seams means that the screws are exposed and are caulked when they're put in (or they have a rubber gasket) to prevent water intrusion around that hole. Over the course of about 5 years, that seal breaks down and needs to be reapplied. So now your very durable and water resistant roof is going to leak more readily with very little pressure. Not that metal roofs are being pressure washed with any kind of regularity since they're very resistant to the algae issue (and most HOAs around here require ceramic tile), but it still happens.

In South Florida, you also have to replace your roof every handful years as a requirement to have insurance coverage (architectural tile is 10-15 years (it's really 10 but sometimes you can get extensions if your roof is still in excellent condition but it'll never go past 15 even if your roof is literally perfect. Your insurance will simply drop your coverage), ceramic is about 20, and metal is 25-30 depending on seam type). Which means: there are places (because I'm sure South Florida is not the only place in the world like this given that many other places also experience our kind of weather and have uppity groups of people that want to tell you how to maintain the look of your home) where stuff like this actually does happen and isn't just a scam.

I personally think cleaning your roof is ridiculous unless you're having some kind of issue that necessitates it (like foliage growing up there that has ROOT SYSTEMS which would need to be taken care of to prevent damage and that might entail cleaning the roof of detritus build up to make the roof a less suitable habitat for that kind of thing). I do think that in most places this is a scam because most places don't require you to replace perfectly good roofs on a time limit because of the risks associated with extreme weather. I'm adding this comment for the sole purpose of saying: doing freak out if you live somewhere that gets weather like South Florida does and your condominium or HOA requires you to clean your roof or just schedules it for you once every few years. Different building codes and different roofing materials will lead to different pressure tolerances for roofs. Pressure washing a ceramic tile roof is like pressure washing stone pavers. The bigger risk is the tile cracking if someone puts to much weight on it.

Tldr: in the vast majority of places and cases, yes it's a scam and compromises the integrity of your roof. There are however areas of the world that use more durable materials and techniques which significantly reduce risk of damage from pressure cleaning and sometimes those places have stupid rules that might require regular roof cleanings so don't freak out if you live in one such place and you have to get your roof cleaned or find out that it's been being cleaned every few years by your HOA/condo association. Your roof is almost certainly fine.

Don’t….. fuckin power wash your roof. Don’t let anyone power wash your roof.

[guddas-blog]

Calcium Hypochlorite Is Essential for Global Water Safety

Calcium hypochlorite is a powerful chemical compound widely used for water treatment, sanitation, and disinfection. Known for its high chlorine content and effectiveness against bacteria, viruses, and algae, it is especially vital in public health and industrial applications. As hygiene standards tighten and demand for safe drinking water grows globally, the Calcium Hypochlorite Market is poised for sustained expansion.

Market Overview

The global calcium hypochlorite market is witnessing strong growth, driven by rising awareness of waterborne diseases, the expansion of municipal water treatment infrastructure, and heightened hygiene standards across industrial and commercial sectors. Often supplied in powder or granular form, calcium hypochlorite is preferred for its high chlorine yield, stability, and ease of storage. Additionally, the presence of calcium carbonate  as a common byproduct in its formulation enhances the compound’s stability and handling properties, further supporting its widespread adoption in disinfection and sanitation applications.

Asia-Pacific, North America, and Latin America are the most active markets, with emerging economies showing strong adoption driven by infrastructure development and public health initiatives.

Key Market Drivers

Rising demand for clean and potable water

Growth in swimming pool construction and maintenance

Increased industrial wastewater treatment activities

Strong demand from the textile and pulp & paper sectors

Public health awareness amid global health crises (e.g., COVID-19)

Applications Across Industries

1. Water Treatment

Used extensively to disinfect drinking water and sanitize municipal water supplies due to its powerful antimicrobial properties.

2. Swimming Pools

Preferred chemical for maintaining pool hygiene by eliminating algae, bacteria, and organic contaminants.

3. Agriculture

Used to sanitize irrigation systems and equipment, helping reduce disease transmission in crops.

4. Textiles and Pulp & Paper

Acts as a bleaching agent during the production of fabrics and paper products.

5. Food & Beverage

Used for sanitizing food processing equipment and surfaces, ensuring safety and hygiene in production environments.

Key Benefits of Calcium Hypochlorite

High Stability: Longer shelf life and effective storage under various conditions

Cost-Effective: Lower cost per unit of chlorine compared to other disinfectants

Multi-Purpose: Suitable for a wide range of applications in water purification and sanitation

Powerful Disinfectant: Effective against a broad spectrum of pathogens

Ease of Use: Simple to handle, measure, and dose compared to gaseous chlorine

Key Market Players

Major global manufacturers are focusing on innovation and supply chain optimization to meet growing demands. Leading players include:

Aditya Birla Chemicals

Westlake Chemical Corporation

Nippon Soda Co., Ltd.

Lonza Group AG

Tosoh Corporation

OxyChem (Occidental Petroleum Corporation)

Yuzhoushi Weilite Chemical Co., Ltd.

Nikunj Chemicals

China Petrochemical Corporation (Sinopec)

Innova Corporate (India)

Future Outlook & Trends

Eco-Friendly Formulations: Development of less corrosive and more environmentally friendly variants

Increased Urbanization: Driving demand for municipal water sanitation infrastructure

Rural Clean Water Projects: Expansion of government-funded programs in emerging markets

Digital Monitoring: Integration with IoT for better dosing control and water quality tracking

Resurgence in Public Health Spending: Boost in institutional and emergency sanitation efforts

Conclusion

The Calcium Hypochlorite Market is more than a commodity segment—it’s a frontline solution in global sanitation and public health. From chlorinating drinking water to ensuring pool safety and protecting crops, calcium hypochlorite continues to be an essential tool in modern infrastructure.

As environmental challenges and health demands rise, this market is positioned for strong and sustainable growth, supported by innovation and increased awareness.

[forcewashingwa]

5 Differences Between Soft Wash and Pressure Wash for Roofs

Soft washing and pressure washing are two different methods used for roof cleaning, each with its own purpose and technique. Soft washing uses low pressure and cleaning solutions to safely remove mold, algae, and dirt without damaging delicate roofing materials. In contrast, pressure washing relies on high-pressure water and is better suited for hard surfaces, but can harm shingles if not done carefully. Understanding the differences helps homeowners choose the safest and most effective method for their specific roof type. https://forcewashing.com/

[lastimeexteriors-nebraska]

What is the Purpose of Roof Treatment?

A roof is one of the most vital components of any structure, providing protection, insulation, and aesthetic appeal. Managing this significant feature involves more than just construction; it requires regular maintenance and treatment. In this article, we’ll explore the purpose of roof treatment, why it is essential, and how Lastime Exteriors can help you maintain a robust and lasting roof.

Understanding Roof Treatment

Roof treatment refers to many protective solutions applied to roofs to enhance their lifespan, performance, and looks. This can include sealing, coating, and restoring, each serving a distinct purpose in prolonging the roof's life. The underlying goal is to create a barrier against the elements, ensuring your home remains a haven.

Protecting Against Natural Elements

Nature can be harsh on roofs. Rain, snow, UV rays, and extreme temperatures can wear down roofing materials. Roof treatments often involve sealing the roof surface, which protects against moisture infiltration, prevents algae growth, and reflects harmful UV rays, ultimately preserving the integrity of your roof.

Enhancing Longevity

One of the most significant advantages of roof treatment is the enhancement of your roof’s lifespan. Regular treatments can significantly extend the duration before a roof requires replacement. Investing in roof treatment can save on repair costs and the expense of a complete roof overhaul in the future.

Improving Energy Efficiency

Did you know a well-treated roof can enhance your home’s energy efficiency? Roof treatments can include reflective coatings that help maintain a more stable indoor temperature. This means your home stays cooler during the summer, reducing the need for air conditioning. In the winter, a well-sealed roof prevents warm air from escaping, reducing heating bills.

Aesthetic Appeal

Beyond protection and efficiency, roof treatment also enhances a home's visual appeal. A freshly treated roof will look cleaner and more vibrant. This isn’t just beneficial for your enjoyment and can increase your home’s market value if you choose to sell.

Common Types of Roof Treatments

Various treatment options are available depending on the materials used for your roof. Here are some of the common treatments you might consider:

Roof Coatings

A roof coating can effectively seal and protect the surface of flat or low-slope roofs. This application not only extends the life of the roofing material but also adds a waterproof barrier.

Sealing

Sealing is essential for preventing leaks and water damage. This is especially important for roofs that experience heavy rainfall or snow accumulation.

Restoration

In cases where the roof shows signs of wear but is structurally sound, a restoration can be an affordable alternative to replacement. This process typically involves cleaning, repairing, and applying a new coating to rejuvenate your roof.

Maintenance Services

Consistent maintenance checks and treatments can help catch problems before they escalate. Regular inspections and minor treatments can prevent costly repairs in the long run.

Choosing the Right Roofing Contractor

Selecting the right roofing contractor is essential when it comes to roof treatment. A qualified contractor will understand your roof's needs and recommend the best treatment options.

Lastime Exteriors is a trusted partner that ensures your roof receives the treatment it deserves. With years of experience and a commitment to quality, they provide comprehensive solutions tailored to your unique situation.

Why Lastime Exteriors?

Expertise: With a team of professionals specializing in roof treatments, you can rest assured knowing your home is in capable hands.

Quality Materials: Lastime Exteriors uses only high-quality materials, ensuring the longevity and effectiveness of their treatments.

Customer Focused: Your satisfaction is paramount. They prioritize clear communication and are dedicated to meeting your needs.

The purpose of roof treatment extends beyond aesthetics; it plays a crucial role in maintaining your home's overall health and efficiency. By understanding the value of different treatments and choosing a reputable roofing contractor, like Lastime Exteriors, you can promote the longevity of your roof and protect your investment.

Extend Your Roof's Lifespan

Ready to protect and enhance your roof? Call (402) 330-0911 or email tony@lastimeroofing.com for a free estimate on professional roof treatment. With Lastime Exteriors, you'll get expert care, top-quality materials, and lasting results to keep your roof in peak condition for years!