#Essential Oils — are wrung —

[fragranceonthefeuille]

Essential Oils — are wrung — by Emily Dickinson

Essential Oils — are wrung — The Attar from the Rose Be not expressed by Suns — alone — It is the gift of Screws —

The General Rose — decay — But this — in Lady's Drawer Make Summer — When the Lady lie In Ceaseless Rosemary —

[jordie-gvf]

my baby - sammy kiszka

sweet aftercare fic!

warnings : fluffy, aftercare on our sammy

word count : 1k+

enjoy!

Whenever you had gone rough on Sammy, you always made sure he had the best aftercare. In his past relationships, he never received aftercare. He loves to be babied and loved on, especially after sex.

This particular night, you did a number on him. He loved when you were dominant and you loved when he was submissive. 

“Give me one second Sammy, I'll be right back.” you told him and walked away. He was panting on the bed and his cheeks were red from crying. You wet a washcloth with warm water and went back out to the bedroom. You wiped his stomach off and his chest off. You wrung the washcloth out and put it in the laundry hamper. You wiped his tears off his beautiful face with your thumbs and kissed his forehead. 

You walked into the bathroom and turned the water on for the bathtub. You put your robe on and added bubbles and coconut oil to keep his skin soft. You added a little epsom salt and essential oils. You grabbed his shampoo and conditioner, as well as your body wash that he loved. You placed them on the side of the tub and grabbed soft muslin washcloths out of the linen closet.

When you walked back out to the bedroom, you saw Sammy, trying to get up with his hair tied back. “No, Sammy. Don't try to walk by yourself. I'll help you.” you told him. You wrapped one arm around his waist and took his arm around your shoulder for support. You helped him walk over to the bathtub and helped him get in. He sat down and winced, “My ass hurts, hurts really bad.” You stroked his face and said, “I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to go so rough on you.” 

He leaned into your hand and sat with his knees up to his chest. He said, “It's all right, I liked it.” You stroked his cheek with your thumb as he sat in the bathtub, soaking in the warm water. You grabbed the accent chair from the bedroom and brought it into the bathroom to sit next to him. You grabbed the white cup from underneath the sink to wet his hair. 

You took his hair down and put the hair tie on your wrist. You laid his head back and poured water onto his hair. You pumped his shampoo into your hand and lathered it in between your hands. You massaged his scalp and washed his hair for him. “I love it when you wash my hair, it feels good,” he said to you. You smiled and continued massaging his scalp. You used the rain spa to rinse the shampoo out. 

You put his conditioner on his ends and put his hair up in one of your claw clips. You grabbed a soft wash cloth and poured your body wash into it. You sudsed it up and washed his body off for him, limb by limb. You instructed him to lay down as best as he could so you could wash his front side. You started on his chest and his stomach and made your way down to his thighs. He moaned when you used the warm washcloth on the inside of his thighs. You washed his legs and rinsed him off using the cup. You unclipped his hair and grabbed your wide tooth comb to do his hair. You rinsed his hair off and lightly glided the comb through his hair. You combed his hair and untangled it. He put his arm on the ledge and laid his head down on your knee. You grabbed your facial cleanser and washed his face for him. “Thank you, Baby.” he said to you. “You're welcome, Sammy. Are you ready to get out?” you asked him. He nodded and you stood up, ready to help him get up. You grabbed his robe from outside the shower and wrapped him in the soft terry cloth robe. You helped him walk over to the bedroom and you laid him down on the bed. 

You grabbed your Bathing Culture body oil and untied his robe. You warmed the oil between your hands and rubbed up and down on his legs. You waited to do his thighs and his backside last, as those hurt the most. 

You told him to turn onto his stomach so you could get his butt. He did as you said and you warmed more oil between your hands. You rubbed his butt and soothed his red cheeks. You had realized how rough you had gone on him, so you kissed each cheek and told him you were sorry. 

He told you, “I'm fine Baby, I'm serious. I would’ve safeworded if I wasn't.” 

“I feel bad, your ass is red.” you retaliated. He turned his head towards you, still on his stomach and kissed your wrist. He assured you he was fine. You continued rubbing his body until he said, “Can you do my skin and my hair?” 

You said yes and directed him to your vanity. You grabbed his hair products and raked them through his hair. You grabbed the hair band you use to hold his hair back so it didn't get in his face. You let him pick out what he wanted to use on his face. He grabbed an eye mask, a sheet mask, almost all of your serums, and moisturizer. You grabbed the eye mask and put that on him first. You grabbed your phone and took a picture of Sammy with the eye mask and the headband on. 

You started laughing and he opened up his eyes to see what you were laughing at. You showed him the picture and he laughed with you. You took them off and did the remainder of the routine. 

“Are you ready for dinner? I can make that soup you love.” you told him. He nodded and you offered to help him up. 

He said he could do it on his own. You looked at him as he was walking down the stairs and said, “Hey Sammy?” 

He turned his head to look at you and said, “What?” 

“I still have the strap on.”

[floorcleaningdublin]

How to Clean Marble Floors

Marble floors are a luxurious and elegant addition to any home or commercial space, adding an air of sophistication and timeless beauty. However, maintaining marble's pristine appearance requires careful attention. This natural stone is porous and susceptible to staining, scratching, and damage from harsh cleaning agents. With the proper techniques, you can keep your marble floors looking stunning for years to come. Here's a comprehensive guide on marble floor cleaning.

Understanding Marble’s Delicate Nature

Before diving into the cleaning process, it’s important to understand why marble requires special care. Unlike ceramic tiles or hardwood floors, marble is sensitive to acidic substances like vinegar, lemon juice, or even common household cleaners. The natural stone can easily etch or become discolored if cleaned with improper solutions. Because marble is porous, it can also absorb spills, leading to unsightly stains.

Routine Cleaning Tips

For daily maintenance, dusting or sweeping is crucial. Dirt, sand, and grit can act like sandpaper, scratching the marble’s surface when walked on. Use a soft microfiber dust mop or a vacuum cleaner with a nozzle designed for hard floors. Avoid vacuum cleaners with rotating brushes, as they may cause scratches.

After removing dust and debris, follow up with a damp mop. The mop should be wrung out well to avoid leaving excess water on the floor, as marble can absorb moisture, leading to staining or damage. Use warm water with a pH-neutral cleaner specifically designed for natural stone. Avoid using any acidic or alkaline cleaners, as they can etch the marble. After mopping, dry the floor with a clean towel to prevent water spots.

Dealing with Spills

Spills should be wiped up immediately to avoid stains. Since marble is porous, substances like wine, coffee, or oils can seep into the stone and leave permanent marks. Use a soft cloth or paper towel to blot the spill—never rub, as this can spread the stain. For stubborn stains, use a specially formulated marble poultice, which can draw the stain out of the stone over time. Always test any cleaner or stain remover on a small, inconspicuous area before applying it to the entire floor.

Polishing and Sealing

Marble floors can lose their luster over time due to foot traffic, spills, or abrasive materials. Polishing marble is an excellent way to restore its shine. You can use a commercial marble polish or hire a professional to buff and polish the floor. This process removes minor scratches and brings out the stone’s natural gloss.

Sealing is another essential part of maintaining marble floors. While sealing doesn’t make the marble impervious to stains, it does provide a protective barrier that slows down the absorption of liquids. Marble should be sealed at least once a year, though high-traffic areas may require more frequent sealing.

Avoiding Common Mistakes

To extend the life of your marble floors, avoid common cleaning mistakes. Never use abrasive cleaners, scrubbing pads, or brushes with stiff bristles, as these can scratch the surface. Avoid using bleach or ammonia-based cleaners, which can discolor the stone. Additionally, never let spills sit for long periods—quick action is key to preventing stains.

Maintaining the beauty of marble floors requires a bit of extra care, but the results are worth the effort. By following a routine of gentle sweeping, mopping with pH-neutral cleaners, and immediate spill management, you can keep your marble floors in top condition. Regular polishing and sealing will also preserve the stone’s natural elegance, ensuring that your marble floors remain a stunning focal point for years to come.

Marble Floor Cleaning

[fullyautomaticcomposter]

The Ultimate Guide to Food Waste Composters: Turning Trash into Treasure

Food waste is a growing global concern. With an estimated one-third of all food produced worldwide ending up in the trash, the environmental and economic impacts are staggering. But what if we could turn that waste into something beneficial? Enter the food waste composter  —a sustainable solution that transforms kitchen scraps into rich, nutrient-dense compost. In this blog, we’ll explore the benefits of composting, the types of food waste composters available, and how to get started on your composting journey.

Why Composting Matters:

1. Reduces Landfill Waste: Food scraps constitute a significant portion of landfill waste, contributing to methane emissions—a potent greenhouse gas. Composting diverts these scraps from landfills, reducing overall waste and greenhouse gas emissions.

2. Enriches Soil: Compost is often referred to as “black gold” by gardeners. It improves soil structure, provides essential nutrients to plants, and enhances soil’s water retention capacity.

3. Promotes Sustainability: By composting, you close the loop in the food cycle. Instead of food waste contributing to environmental degradation, it is repurposed to support new plant growth.

4. Cost Savings: Composting at home can reduce the need for chemical fertilizers and lower waste disposal costs.

Types of Food Waste Composters:

1. Indoor Composters:

Electric Composters: These units, like the Vitamix FoodCycler, use electricity to accelerate the composting process. They are compact, efficient, and can process a variety of food scraps, including meat and dairy.

Bokashi Bins: Using a fermentation process, Bokashi bins are ideal for indoor use. They can handle all types of food waste, including meat and dairy, and produce a pre-compost that needs to be buried or added to a traditional compost pile.

2. Outdoor Composters:

Compost Tumblers: These are enclosed bins that can be rotated to mix the composting materials. They are easy to use, keep pests out, and accelerate the composting process by improving aeration.

Compost Bins: Traditional compost bins are simple, open-bottom containers that allow for natural decomposition. They are inexpensive and can handle large amounts of yard and kitchen waste.

Vermicomposters: These use worms to break down food waste. Vermicomposting is excellent for small spaces and produces a very high-quality compost called worm castings.

How to Get Started with Composting:

1. Choose Your Composter: 

Select a composter that fits your space, lifestyle, and the type of waste you generate. Indoor composters are great for apartment dwellers, while outdoor bins are suitable for those with a garden.

2. Know What to Compost:

Greens: Fruit and vegetable scraps, coffee grounds, eggshells, and green yard waste.

Browns: Dry leaves, cardboard, paper, and straw.

Avoid: Meat, dairy, oils, and processed foods unless you’re using an electric or Bokashi composter.

3. Maintain the Balance: Composting requires a balance of greens and browns to decompose efficiently. Aim for a 2:1 ratio of browns to greens to maintain proper aeration and moisture levels.

4. Turn and Monitor: Regularly turning your compost pile helps aerate it, speeding up the decomposition process. Keep an eye on moisture levels; the pile should be as damp as a wrung-out sponge.

5. Harvest Your Compost: Depending on the method used, compost can take anywhere from a few weeks to several months to mature. When it’s ready, the compost will be dark, crumbly, and earthy-smelling.

Tips for Successful Composting:

Chop Waste Smaller: Smaller pieces decompose faster. Chop or shred larger items before adding them to your composter.

Avoid Odors: If your compost starts to smell, it’s likely too wet or lacking browns. Add more dry materials and turn the pile to aerate.

Pest Prevention: Use secure bins and avoid adding meat or dairy to keep pests at bay.

Conclusion:

Composting food waste with food waste converter  is a practical and eco-friendly way to reduce landfill use, lower greenhouse gas emissions, and create valuable soil amendments for your garden. Whether you live in a city apartment or a rural home, there’s a composting method that can fit your needs. By turning food waste into a resource, you can contribute to a more sustainable future while enriching your garden and community.

Ready to start composting? Choose a composter that suits your lifestyle, follow the basic principles, and watch as your food waste transforms into nutrient-rich compost. Happy composting!

[oliviachows]

Common Mistakes to Avoid in Carwash and Detailing.

Car detailing is an incredible method for keeping your car looking, and it is ideal for working. However, it can be simple to make mistakes that harm the interior or paint of your car.

It is essential to understand what these errors are so you can stay away from them while detailing your car. A portion of these include:

1. Washing the car in direct daylight.

Proficient detailers and car washing organizations firmly exhort against washing cars in direct daylight. Soap can dry on the surface of the car before you have a chance to rinse it off because of the sun's rays. This can leave water spots on the paintwork and make twirl marks in the completion.

When temperatures aren't too high, morning or evening is the best time to wash a car. Also, work in sections, starting on the roof and working your way down the sides of the car. Additionally, it's a good idea to spray the car with water regularly to stop the chemicals and water from drying out too quickly.

If you need to wash the car in direct daylight, it's smart to utilize a can of ice water to chill off the temperature. Additionally, try to locate a spot with some shade. This will safeguard you from the sun's beams and assist with lessening water spots on the bodywork of your car.

2. Using a standard towel for drying.

It is essential to use a high-quality towel for drying to avoid streaking and water spots. Regular towels are less absorbent than specialized drying cloths like microfiber or chamois and are frequently more likely to leave marks.

Microfiber and chamois are ideal for drying automobiles without leaving watermarks or swirls because they are highly effective at absorbing moisture. Additionally, these materials are free of lint and can be reused multiple times by being wrung out.

If your towels get a lot of grease, oil, tar, or any other chemical that might stain them, make sure to pre-treat them or at least soak them. When you finish your detailing, this will make sure that these contaminants don't get back onto the surface of the car. An excellent solution to this issue is the Absorber. It is a synthetic chamois towel that can be stretched over larger areas, like the roof or hood, to easily absorb any remaining water. It can also be used to gently pat down the surface of the car.

3. Apply wax directly on the car’s surface.

Waxing the car requires following the instructions provided by the manufacturer. Utilizing an applicator pad and working in a shaded area is also essential. The majority of products require a thin coat that is easy to buff off and dries quickly. It's smart to work in each segment in turn, covering 2 to 4 square feet.

It is essential to remove the wax with a microfiber towel or chamois after it has been applied. This helps get rid of any excess, keeping the car shiny and safe.

Using a damp, drying towel to scrub dirt that doesn't come off with the wash is another common error made by detailers. This may harm the clear coat and leave scratches in the paint. For this purpose, a dryer cleaning towel is best.

4. Using a clay bar too often.

Overuse of a clay bar will eventually cause car paint to become contaminated with various pollutants, which can result in a grittier surface. Mud bar treatment will eliminate these toxins and reestablish the perfection of your car's paint.

Typically, you'll use a clay bar lubricant to spray a small area of your car's panel and then glide the clay across the bodywork, removing any embedded dirt as you go. Whenever you have taken out the foreign substances and the board is all perfect, clear off any abundance of oil and move on to the following board.

Depending on the severity of your local environment, you should only use a clay bar once every three to four washes. If you don't, the clay bar's abrasive nature could cause paint damage and leave fine scratches behind.

After the panels have been washed and dried, you can use your finger to check to see if your paint is contaminated. The paint is contaminated and needs to be clayed if it feels rough or sounds like you're rubbing sandpaper on it. To do perfect Carwash and Detailing in Kingston, Canada, reach out to Maple Carwash. They are doing a special monthly offer as a $80 package at $50.

[rubistella]

Astarion clicked his tongue with an annoyed breath.

“It’s hardly confinement so much as a safety measure. Believe me when I say that even your magic can’t keep a horde of spawn at bay.”

There had been wizards before. Not your run-of-the-mill charlatan either, but powerful ones that fell prey to the spawn. While Astarion made a point to keep those under his care fed as to minimise collaterals, there had been others who had wandered astray from the group, succumbed to hunger in the process.

Others like the lad who had the jump on Gale.

“Some are stupid enough to brave through walls of fire.” The Bhaalist Armour, one of the two significant gifts from his once mad love, was just as harrowing as it was a perfect fit for the vampire. With its belt buckles undone, the fabric came free without a moment’s delay. “Others will climb over every stone barricade you summon like their hands and feet cling to the rocks with same ease as spiders on a web. And a few of them, rather like myself, know how to wade through gossamer and ice without a single misstep. Trust me, my love: a rabid spawn will get to you one way or another. All it takes are a few slashes to break through that intricately woven concentration spell of yours.”

And there would be hell to pay for any who so much as tried.

An exhale pried his lips apart.

Cords of white curls, a little wet with sweat, wrung at the vampire’s nape where the bank of an early spine valleyed. Dual dips branded its base at the bottom, letting light corrode his body in every perfect angle to highlight alabaster coated in a sheen of moisture. Stimulating notes of citric rinds filled their surroundings, boasting a warm, aged brandy scent added to the camphoric florals of eucalyptus or the likes.

Astarion’s essential oils permeated the room like scented candles.

Wearing nothing but his undergarments now, the vampire made way towards his husband and had him scoot over a bit so he could wedge himself between him and the pillows, nestle the man comfortably on his lap while at it. An open-mouthed kiss, as delicious as it was tender, but with a bit of teeth connected to the wizard’s neck over a tendon after a few strays had been brushed aside.

“Hm?” Crimson met the profile of that neatly trimmed five o’clock - a face he'd recall even when love became all but a lost art - and his hands had already taken to wandering past the open flap of the wizard’s robe to feel the hair littering his chest when a scoff fell from his lips to scatter against Gale's weathered skin. “Oh, by the hells. If I’m to end up anywhere tonight, Gale, that’s going to be seven inches deep inside of you.”

Granted the wizard could handle a little sport without his blood pressure sinking like the temperature in a hail storm.

A kiss long-awaited. One most welcome and oh, ended far too quickly. The wizard's lips form a petulant pout as Astarion slowly disentangles himself from their embrace. Brown eyes glimmer with lust and longing, body still tingling from the sensations of their fleeting, intimate moment. He cannot help but stare if only for a brief moment, fixed on every angle of the vampire's sculpted form. Piercing red eyes, snow-white curls, a wicked smile.

Beautiful and hungry.

Gale recognizes that familiar expression, knowing better than to push unnecessary boundaries whilst bearing the pungent scent of fresh blood. A dangerous game he plays, tempting fate with every breath. For now, he will hold back and silently watches as Astarion shifts upon the plush mattress, his movements fluid and graceful like a tressym on the prowl.

Husband, well, he does quite enjoy that word upon his lover's lips. "Shipping me to off to Menzoberranzan? Oh, I'm certain I would make lovely company, however, I much prefer to remain by your side, if it's all the same to you." A hearty chuckle escapes his lips as he watches Astarion meticulously undo the clasps of his leather boots. "Darling," Gale echoes, "You could never be a letdown."

Not even if he tried.

"I suppose I can keep myself occupied accordingly," a dramatic sigh, "confined to your quarters." Astarion is right, of course, another unnecessary risk. "So long as you promise to visit frequently, we've waited long enough, would not agree? " Because Gale's heart aches with a desperate longing for his husband. He craves his attention, his presence, his touch. The emptiness in his soul was palpable, a missing puzzle piece which left a void in the picture of their life together.

Eyes follow the movements of Astarion as he removes his armor, revealing smooth, pale skin underneath. But his gaze is soon drawn to the bookshelf in the elf's chambers. Ignoring his lover's protests, Gale rises to his feet and crosses the room with purpose. His fingers trace over the spines of the books, feeling the raised lettering and worn edges. Each one holds a story, knowledge waiting to be explored. There is comfort in the scent of old paper and ink, as he inspects each one.

Read this. And this. This too.

Ah. Here we are, Gale thinks to himself.

The wizard gently caresses the intricate designs on the cover of a book he has yet to read, admiring the craftsmanship before taking it in his hand. Returning to Astarion's bed, he gently presses a kiss to his husband's forehead before sinking into the plush pillows with a contented smile and book in hand. "Stay with me tonight?"

[themurphyzone]

Nova Ch 4

AN: Just in time for the A!countdown! Looking forward to those sneak peeks next month! 

Ch 4: Extraterrestrial 

New Selenian Date 3015.4.21

 Though our voyage through space was more volatile than I expected, we’ve successfully approached Terra’s exosphere. Under other circumstances, it would be cause for celebration, but…

 Well, Snowball has only spoken to me for essentials during the past few days. Usually so he can update me while he raids the pantry for maza or to catch up on sleep.

Our argument has only served as a reminder that we’re not…as united in our mutual goal as much I want to believe.

It must the length of the journey. Access to only four rooms in a one week period can give anyone a serious case of cabin fever. He’ll get better once we land on Terra’s surface, I’m sure.

Signing off for now, the Brain.

o-o-o-o-o

Was it really April 21? Pinky hurried to the Mickey Mouse calendar pinned to the wall next to his cage. He really loved that picture of Mickey giving flowers to a blushing Minnie. They really were the perfect couple!

Pinky imitated Mickey’s pose, dropping down on one knee as if he was offering a bouquet of pretty daffodils…wait, no those were lilies. He rubbed his head, confused by the yellow flowers in the picture. Maybe it was the type with the really long name.

What was it again? Ah, yes! A lovely bouquet of Chris-and-his-moms for Minnie!

Egad, the picture was so pretty that he’d forgotten about the reminder he’d penciled in the box for April 21!

“Granny Smith at 9 pm?” Pinky tilted his head, trying to make sense of what he’d written. He didn’t know any grannies that well, nor did he know any Smiths. Besides, Pharfignewton was leaving the ranch tonight at 9 pm, and he was going to see her off before she was off to the races. “Poit! Oh yeah, the apple! An apple a day keeps the vets away!”

Pharfignewton needed the energy for the journey too. Kentucky was a long way from California. About nine inches according to his placemat of the United States.

Before he left, he needed to leave a response for his space pen pal. But they weren’t exactly using pens. Maybe space radio pals was better.  

Pinky went back to the Walkman. It made a bunch of crackling noises, like the Brain hadn’t turned his equipment off yet.

“Hi, the Brain!” Pinky grinned. The was such a funny first name. “Glad you could make it to Earth! Or Terra! Whatever you wanna call it! Wherever you land, I hope you and Snowball enjoy yourselves. Definitely try strawberry cheesecake sometime. It’s delicious!”

The static continued.

“Anyway, Pharfignewton’s leaving for the Kentucky Derby tonight, so I can’t chat for long. Maybe tomorrow? I’ll spend twice as much time talking to you tomorrow! Fig’s been practicing super extra hard. She’s gonna win the Derby and get that Triple Crown! That’s her dream, you know! Dreams are a wish your heart makes, zort! Cinderella said so!”

Pinky put his hand over the Walkman’s speaker. “Your dream is taking over Terra, and mine is being surrounded by cheese from around the world! Or maybe that’s just my stomach. I can never tell for sure.”

The clock chimed eight, its little pendulum swinging to and fro in a dizzying pattern.

He had to say goodbye now.

And say goodbye again later.

“Alright…well, I’ll let you go. I bet you have some important Conquesowhatsit things to do. Bye, the Brain. Glad you could make it to Terra. You and Snowball are gonna love it. Ooh, there I go again. Bye for real this time.” Pinky slowly turned the dial down, past tinny classical and pop music stations, until the Walkman was off.

Dreams were always nice, even if Pharfignewton and the Brain had to travel far away to make them come true. Pinky’s parents were probably making their own dream of eating gourmet food pellets real as well. Sis didn’t have one yet. She was still torn between professional hairdressing and getting a cooking show on Food Network, but she was young and had plenty of time to grow up.

Now that he thought about it, maybe Sis was right. He didn’t have to decide on a dream for himself yet. Well, surrounding himself with provolone, cheddar, mozzarella, camembert, and all the other yummy cheeses was still a wonderful dream for now.

“A world of cheeses, deliciously made for you and me…” Pinky sang, the air conditioner providing a nice background instrumental as he went to the breakroom to fetch Pharfignewton’s apple.

o-o-o-o-o

Carting the Granny Smith apple to the ranch took more time than Pinky imagined. Running on his wheel along with those upper body strength VHS tapes helped him for most of the trek, but there’d still been one scary moment where he’d leaned back too far to see the pretty full moon. Luckily, the apple wasn’t too bruised from tumbling downhill.

By the time Pinky arrived, Pharfignewton was already in her horse trailer. Her owner sat on a nearby bench, his brow furrowed as his thumbs tapped rapidly on his cell phone. A white pick-up truck sat in front of the trailer, though the latch to connect the vehicles hadn’t been hooked yet.

The door to Pharfignewton’s trailer was wide open, the ramp still on the ground. Delays were good. It meant he could hold off on saying goodbye a little longer.

“Fig, I got you an apple! A sweet and healthy Granny Smith!” Pinky exclaimed as he ran up the ramp. Before he could get to the top, Pharfignewton bent down and grasped the apple in her teeth, nearly chomping down on Pinky’s hands as she lifted her head. Pinky’s feet left the ground, and he gripped the apple with both hands, almost sliding off the smooth surface.

He couldn’t resist a tiny nibble. Pharfignewton wouldn’t mind.

Pinky climbed onto her muzzle just as the apple was crunched into mush. Pharfignewton whinnied in delight, her eyes shut from sheer happiness. He stroked the fur between her eyes and hummed Camptown Races because it was her favorite song. She always got excited to race when she heard it.

Pharfignewton’s hooves clopped against the floor rhythmically, her head bobbing up and down.

“-gonna run all night! Gonna run all day!” Pinky sang, grabbing her soft mane and hauling himself up. He clung to her ears for balance. “I’ll bet my money here on Fig, cause she’s gonna win this May!”  

Pharfignewton neighed, her tail raised proudly.

Her owner looked up from his phone. His bushy beard quivered as he chuckled and waved at her. A van pulled up to the curb, the window sliding down to reveal a man in a funny white cowboy hat. The owner shouted and pointed to the newcomer’s hat.

“What a fashion icon, Fig! Rodeo style hats at the Kentucky Derby. Why didn’t I think of that?” Pinky asked. “Egad, I need to make my own hat for the Derby! A derby hat! With fancy ribbons and dandelions and those little beads on sombreros!”

Cowboy Man clapped the owner on the shoulder as he climbed out of his van, the owner playfully shoving him in return. The back doors of the van were opened, and they started loading the pile of heavy feed bags and horse care equipment into the hollowed out space, trading good-natured jabs while they worked.

Pinky glanced at the starry night sky, scratching the back of Pharfignewton’s ear. “I almost forgot. The Brain made it to Terra. He said so in his message tonight. Told him he should try strawberry cheesecake. I don’t know if they have that in space.”

Pharfignewton snorted.

“Oh, you and your homemade apple strudel,” Pinky grinned. “Tell you what. Win the Triple Crown and I’ll bake the most scrumptious, most mouthwateringest apple strudel you’ve had in your life! Oh wait, no, how ‘bout I just bake it when you come back? Whenever that will be. Maybe soon?”

However long she’d be gone, Pinky hoped she’d call or write or keep in touch some other way. Well, sending a postcard might be a little tricky with hooves. How was she ever gonna apply the stamps?

Pharfignewton neighed, her front hooves knocking against the floor in worry.

“I’ll be okay, Fig. I can wait ‘til August. There’s lots of fun things to do in the summer. Like playing water polo, air hockey, capture the flag...”

Except those games all needed two players.

And while Monopoly game pieces and dominoes made for great substitutes when he couldn’t round up the checkers and marbles, it just wouldn’t be the same without Pharfignewton.

Pinky’s tail started to cramp.

He hadn’t realized he’d wrung it between his hands so hard. It wasn’t the fun sort of pain either.

Outside, the men finished loading their supplies. The van doors were shut, and Pharfignewton’s trailer was hitched to the truck.

Their boots loudly thumped against the ground with every step.

Pinky slid down Pharfignewton’s long muzzle, his feet resting against the back of her nostrils. He gripped her face and looked at those gorgeous blue eyes. They were the same shade as his turquoise crayon. He wanted to remember that.

Pinky rested his jaw on Pharfignewton’s fur, trying to keep the tiny quaver out of his voice. “Well…guess this is it, huh?” he murmured. “You have a good trip now. You’re the best racehorse I’ve ever met. Course I don’t know any other racehorses, but you’re gonna win the Derby, Fig. I know you will. Just keep in touch, ‘kay?”

She knickered softly, her breath stirring Pinky’s fur as she lowered him to the ground outside her trailer. Her breath smelled just like applesauce. She carefully rubbed the underside of her jaw against Pinky’s head, nuzzling away tears that made his vision a little blurry, then slowly raised herself to her majestic height.

“Poit. Really, Fig.” Pinky tilted his head back so the tears just pooled in his eyes instead of trailing down his cheeks. “You’ve got a dream ahead of you.”

Pharfignewton stomped her hoof.

But Pinky shook his head. True, he could go with her, but who was gonna keep his cage clean and his wheel oiled if he wasn’t around? Besides, Pharfignewton would have so many new horse friends. She was gonna be a celebrity by association.

Pinky wiped a tear away with his tail. “I don’t wanna distract you or anything. Meet someone new! Who knows? You might even be fast friends!”

Then Cowboy Man and the owner walked past, too engrossed in their conversation to notice Pinky. Pharfignewton craned her neck, trying to see above Cowboy Man while he folded the ramp. Before she could reply, her owner gently shooed her further into the trailer while Cowboy Man finished up.

Once the trailer door was shut and locked, the owner and Cowboy Man took some time to stroke Pharfignewton’s face. The window bars were wide enough to allow almost her entire muzzle through.

They promised good things for her, win or lose. She’d be eating her fill of apples and carrots for sure.

She’d be happy out there, running like the wind to her heart’s content.  

Ten minutes later, Cowboy Man drove away in his supply van. Pharfignewton’s owner started up the truck.

Pinky quickly climbed up a fencepost and waved to Pharfignewton, wishing he’d brought along a handkerchief to blow his nose into or flutter in the air like a proper movie goodbye.

Pharfignewton stretched her neck as far as she could.

“Bye! Adios! Sayonara!” Pinky called, cupping his hands as the truck slowly inched onto the side road’s pavement. The trailer turned slightly with the movement, and Pinky quickly hopped to a fencepost within Pharfignewton’s line of sight.

She looked happy enough to get the show on the road, but her whinnies were still worried.

He had to cheer her up! She couldn’t travel to Kentucky with that frowny face!

“Camptown ladies! Sing this song! Narf!” Pinky panted, taking only a moment to catch his breath, the song choppy as he ran the length of the fence. But even with the truck’s slow crawl, he couldn’t keep up, and the truck disappeared over the hill, pulling the trailer and Pharfignewton along with it.

He didn’t slow down in time. Pinky stumbled over the last fencepost and fell into the springy grass below. The thud knocked his breath away for just a moment, but he shook it off quickly.

It was nothing really.

“Camptown racetrack’s fi-five thousand miles away…”

Pharfignewton shouldn’t worry.

He had the small, boxy TV that the lab couldn’t afford to upgrade to a flat screen. The NBC channel always showed the Derby.

And it was enough for him.

o-o-o-o-o

Had the stars always been that far away? They seemed much lonelier than usual.

Pinky tilted his head as far as he could, taking in the navy sky above. There was no moon and no way to spot the Brain’s old home tonight. He was probably somewhere on Earth by now.

Paris was nice at this time of year. Maybe the Brain would get all the cheese and baguettes he could eat. The city of light and love was absolutely splendid and heavenly. Pinky had never been there, but the landscape seemed so pretty at night in Ratatouille. Parisian rodents must be excellent chefs. Pinky would have to find one someday.

If only he could walk into a giant cabinet that would magically transport him to a riverboat cruise on the Seine. He’d only gotten a mouthful of cobweb the last time he’d tried that.

Oh dear.

Pinky twirled in place, taking in the enormous apartment complex to his left and the grassy hillside across the street, both of which he didn’t recognize.

“Narf! Silly me.” Pinky bonked his fist against his noggin, leaving a slight ache behind.  “One of these days, I’ll definitely remember that ol’ left turn on Albuquerque Street!”

Well, the only thing he had to do was retrace his steps.

But he didn’t have sidewalk chalk or a pencil.

Pinky scratched his head. This was a lot harder than he thought. He was outside, so he couldn’t exactly follow the left wall of the maze until he got un-lost.

His stomach growled, and he had a sudden craving for between-twilight-and-midnight food pellets.

“Hush now, tummy. You’ll get your food pellets as soon as I find the lab again,” Pinky said, patting his growling belly.

A bowl of smoked food pellets seasoned with paprika and rosemary sounded good right about now. With a side of smoked cheddar too!

Pinky laughed. “You’ve really got a craving for smoked food, tummy! Can’t blame you there. Those smoked chicken wings on Food Network were absolutely mouthwatering yesterday. I’m so hungry I can smell those food pellets!”

And the food pellets smelled delicious indeed.

Pinky took a deep whiff, standing on his tippy-toes to drink it all in.

Until the scent changed and it smelled more oily than the yummy sort of smoke.

Pinky’s nose wrinkled. A faint plume of smoke rose from behind the grassy hill, but it was still a little early in the year for anyone to hold a campfire sing-along with s’mores.

There didn’t seem to be a fire. Or slightly burnt marshmallows for that matter.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Pinky crossed the street at the crosswalk because he was a good pedestrian and not a jaywalker. That was just silly. He was a mouse, not a blue jay.

He ran to the top of the hill and perched on a tree root, heels rocking back and forth for a moment until he found his balance. Then his jaw dropped at the sight of a gray and silver futuristic-y UFO just beyond the hill’s base. It had to be the size of two cages combined, maybe a little more.

He wasn’t really good at judging size, but the UFO thingy was ginormous.

Dirt piled high around its battered surface, like it plowed right into the ground at Pharfignewton-like speeds. Smoke trailed from two long cylinders that arched above its back, though there were no flames.

At least Smokey the Bear wouldn’t have to worry about any wildfires.

Pinky approached the wreckage, circling it twice out of sheer fascination. He didn’t see any string though. No wonder the UFO crashed. It didn’t have any string to hold it up.

“Hello, Mr. Alien!” Pinky shouted, hoping his voice carried through the metal to whoever was inside. He leaned against the UFO with both hands, placing all his body weight on his tiptoes. It felt great. He hadn’t stretched his shoulders like this in a while. All his focus had been going to strengthening his thighs recently. “I just wanted to let you know that your UFO string is missing! But it’s okay! I have an extra long ball of yarn back at the lab! Will that do?”

There was no response, though Pinky heard a plip-plop of dripping water when he pressed his ear against the UFO.

Suddenly, the metal hissed and shifted under his palms.

“Narf!” Pinky yelped as he pitched forward into the opening. His jaw thwacked against the floor, and he giggled at the tingly sensations that shot to the top of his head.

Propping himself onto his elbows, Pinky found himself in a room that was just as big on the inside as it seemed on the outside. Except everything seemed a little smashed up. Broken computers tilted against one wall, the screens cracked and displaying a random string of numbers and letters.

Orange soda dripped from an open panel to his left, forming a bubbly puddle on the floor. Pinky almost drank it, but figured it was a terrible idea because of the little metal bits mixed in. Orange soda went with pizza, not metal.

Pinky stood up and dusted himself off, then walked over to what seemed to be a smashed-up bedframe. There was an upturned mattress and a crumpled white blanket next to it. When he tried to turn them over and arrange them into a less messy position, he found they were rather scratchy and definitely uncomfortable for sleeping in. Whoever used this bed must’ve woken up every morning with a backache the size of Alaska.

As he tucked the last corner of the blanket into the mattress, several tiny blue things slipped out from the folds and bounced off his foot. When Pinky glanced down, he found there were a lot of tiny blue things scattered throughout the room.

He picked one up out of curiosity.

No, it wasn’t a thing. More like a tiny blue star. He touched it with his tongue, a sweet flavor taking over his taste buds entirely. It really packed a wallop. His tongue hadn’t felt this tingly since the time he’d eaten two entire packs of lemonheads! He popped several more tiny stars into his mouth, hugging himself from sheer bliss.

For a moment, it seemed like there was another voice agreeing with him on how fantastically delicious these tiny stars were.

Then it cut into a low groan, which didn’t sound like someone enjoying a snack at all. Pinky quickly swallowed the tiny stars and listened for the source of the noise.

“Narf! Hello?” Pinky called. “Are you an alien ghost? Or a ghost alien, Mr. Alien?”

Another groan. Maybe Mr. Alien didn’t know how to play Twenty Questions.

One of the computers shifted and crashed onto its side, a blue screen flickering in and out of existence. Parts of the splintered bedframe laid among the mess. A small, black-gloved hand poked out from among the tangled wires before falling limp again.

Pinky poked the hand.

It twitched.

“Awful hard to sleep under all those wires, don’t you think?” Pinky asked. “I mean, it would be so electric-y under there! Unless you’re an android ghost alien! Electric sheep only works for androids, I think. The rest of us count woolly, fluffy sheep.”

The mass of wires trembled, the hand closing around Pinky’s wrist. Though it was probably meant to be a tight grasp, it wasn’t a very good hold. A single movement could shake off the alien’s hand.

But Pinky stayed still. Something didn’t seem quite right.

The alien lifted his head, a pair of antennae with bouncy red orbs perking slightly.  

Antennae was a good name now that he thought about it.

“N-no’all?” Antennae murmured, the wires slipping off his large, chubby head. His bleary pink eyes stared through Pinky with desperate hope. Soot stained his messy fur with varying shades of gray, his pointed ears drooping and floppy.

“Poit. Do you not speak English?” Pinky asked. Antennae continued to stare, not seeming to understand. “I could get my language book from the lab. It’s got Spanish, French, Sea Lion, and Legalese! I’m learning a lot! Maybe it’s got your language too?”

Then Pinky snapped his fingers. Why hadn’t he thought of this sooner? “Wait, no! Maybe kissing would be much faster? That way my English flows into your mouth and voicebox! Is that how it works? I’m pretty sure that’s how it works…”

Antennae’s grip tightened, his lower half writhing in the wires until he shook himself free. From the neck down, he wore a sleek black bodysuit with red highlights that really made the color of his antennae and tail orbs pop.

Egad, he was tiny. Even Antennae’s antennae barely rose above Pinky’s chin.

Something green and golden glinted in the hand that wasn’t holding onto Pinky. Antennae stumbled as he got to his feet, wincing as he tried to put his weight on his heels. His eyes widened in panic, and he quickly let go Pinky, breathing rapidly as he wrapped both hands around the weapon’s handle.

Balancing on his toes, he shakily pointed the weapon at Pinky. He was trying to shove the red bulb into Pinky’s nose, which was a little rude to be honest, but couldn’t do much more than a light tap.  

“Are you okay?” Pinky asked, lifting his head so the bulb wasn’t smushing his nose. “Soot’s not really good for your complexion. Gives you all sorts of pimples and zits. That’s what Dr. Oz says, anyway.”

There were several clicks as Antennae repeatedly pulled a switch on the handle, but nothing happened. It clearly wasn’t working the way he expected. He growled in frustration, lowering his weapon and opening a compartment along the top. Then his eyes flicked to the puddle of orange soda on the floor and back to Pinky.

For the first time, Antennae noticed all the tiny blue stars that littered the ground. He whipped around in surprise, staring since he still didn’t understand, but the sudden movement made him lose his balance. Pinky caught him by the arm before he fell flat on his face.

The weapon slipped out of his grip, clattering to the floor. He cried out and swung his crooked tail into Pinky’s side.

“Zort!” Pinky yelped, more from the literal shock he’d received, than actual pain. His fur stood on end, like he’d just rubbed a balloon against it. When he pressed it down again, several tingling tickles lingered on his hand, making him giggle.

When he looked up, Antennae had limped over to the damaged remains of a shelf. But even walking across the room was too much, and he collapsed again.

The bodysuit had rips along the heels, exposing several painful looking cuts. Pinky couldn’t blame him for trying to stay on his tiptoes, even if it was a very awkward way to walk.

Antennae needed help. Pinky would have to carry him to the lab.

Pinky followed. He knelt and picked up Antennae, who weighed only slightly more than the small batteries Pinky liked to use as weights, since dumbbells were unfortunately too large for him. Antennae loosely held a baggie of the tiny stars close to his chest. There were several ripped baggies surrounding them. This seemed to be the only one that remained whole.

Cradling his head and back, Pinky set the baggie on top of Antennae’s chest, making sure the baggie was sandwiched between them before he set off.

Antennae’s head lolled against Pinky’s neck. The antennae orbs lit up with tiny sparks for just a moment, though Pinky didn’t get another burst of static. They faded back to a normal red within a few seconds.

He seemed…almost relaxed. At least his face wasn’t scrunched anymore.

As Pinky exited the UFO with his bundle, something bonked into the back of his head.

“Ouch!” Pinky nearly dropped Antennae and baggie in surprise. A tiny camera with a spinning propellor zipped into the night sky, recovering from its collision course quickly.

Some sort of alien tech too otherworldly for a regular genetically altered Earth mouse to understand? Pinky longed to ask, but he didn’t want to disturb Antennae.

Besides, he looked adorably pudgy while he slept.

Antennae made a small noise in the back of his throat, but he didn’t seem to be waking up anytime soon.

The camera didn’t matter as much. Not when he just discovered that aliens snored.  

Pinky set off for the lab, determined to get the directions right this time.  

o-o-o-o-o

Good thing the dark, narrow alley filled with dirty cardboard boxes had been there! Pinky never would’ve known it was a shortcut to the lab if it hadn’t been for that stray cat. It was a miracle that Antennae hadn’t woken up once, or that the baggie survived the chase without any rips or spilling tiny stars.

The cat had given up the chase, deciding that whatever was in the dumpster would be more of a yummy meal.

Really, Pinky didn’t imagine he’d taste too good. He tried to lick his elbow a few times and all he got was a mouthful of fur.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to try to climb up to the mail slot. The door was slightly ajar, just enough for him to squeeze past, even with Antennae’s chubby head.  

Pinky shifted his hold to one arm, then grabbed the handle of the nearest drawer to pull them up to the counter. He had to set the baggie down, but Pinky could easily grab it once Antennae was settled comfortably in the cage.

It took a few unsuccessful tries of hauling himself up while holding onto Antennae before he realized it wasn’t going to work.

“Psst, Antennae,” Pinky hummed, gently shaking the alien’s shoulder. It would be a lot easier if Antennae clung to his back. “Wakey-wakey…”

Antennae’s face scrunched again, then he yawned and nuzzled into Pinky’s chest instead.

He looked so peaceful. It would go against Pinky’s little shoulder angel to wake him up now. What had he been thinking?

After a few minutes of searching through bottom drawers, Pinky found a soft kitchen sponge that hadn’t been removed from its packaging yet. It would make a perfect bed. Pinky pulled it out of the package, carefully maneuvering it out of the drawer while trying not to jostle Antennae too much.  

Another drawer had several white, fluffy hand towels. They seemed clean enough, so Pinky slung two towels over his free shoulder and climbed out.

He laid one of the towels on the floor, then pushed the sponge on top. Cold feet weren’t fun in the morning nor in show business. Then he laid Antennae on the sponge and covered him with the second towel.

Antennae’s hand clung to Pinky’s fur, so Pinky loosened the grip and tucked the wayward hand under the towel.

“You’ll be alright,” Pinky whispered, stretching out his sore arms. Maybe he’d carried Antennae for a bit too long. But Pinky’s arms would be ready for more wheel-running tomorrow.

Now that both of his hands were free, Pinky grabbed a bandage roll which had been lying near a Bunsen burner. He’d have to thank Mr. Bunsen for letting him borrow these bandages later.

Pinky carefully removed the socks – maybe they were more shoes? Oh, well. He removed the shoe-socks from Antennae’s feet and laid them on the towel-rug. Since Antennae hadn’t been on his feet since the UFO, the cuts seemed to be healing just fine.

Pinky carefully bandaged the heels and folded the towel-blanket over Antennae’s feet once he was finished. Then he brought the baggie of tiny stars over and placed them next to the shoe-socks.

He climbed up to the counter briefly to wash his hands, humming Happy Birthday as he lathered with the honey-scented soap.

“Thank you, Silver’s Anatomy,” Pinky said to the TV remote, which teetered over the edge of the VCR. He turned to Mr. Button, still lying on his straw bed in the cage. “Sorry, Mr. Button. I’m sleeping elsewhere tonight. Here, you can have Nicholas so you won’t be lonely. Try not to keep him up too late, okay?”

He rolled Nicholas the Nickel into the cage and settled him near Mr. Button. They seemed happy. Mr. Button would no doubt be gossiping about the ballpoint pens again.  

Pinky yawned and went back to the floor. It had been an eventful day, and he was very tired.

The towel-rug seemed very inviting…

Pinky buried his face into the towel fluff. Antennae had been twitching throughout Pinky’s counter business, but he stilled again once Pinky curled up.

Pinky fell asleep, dreaming of cheese and Pharfignewton and a deep, faraway voice. It was a lovely dream, except the voice couldn’t join Pinky and Pharfignewton in their little cheese and apple picnic. It seemed unwilling. Pinky made sure to save a few slices of cheddar and provolone for him. Maybe he’d take it afterward.

o-o-o-o-o

When the sunlight hit his eyes, Pinky leapt with joy. Early wheel runs were the best! So were mid-morning runs, and noon runs, and evening runs!

Except he couldn’t move. He could still wiggle his fingers and toes, but his hands were tied behind his back, purple yarn binding his ankles as well. His entire tail was still free though. He swished his tail just to be sure.

He shimmied over to the drawer and pressed his back against it, managing to sit up. Though he wanted to run on his wheel, being tied up was a fun game too.

Antennae wasn’t on the sponge bed though. Where was he? He was missing out!

Pinky wondered if he should just untie himself and find Antennae. The knots didn’t seem that hard. Though it was hard to tell for sure if it was a slipknot or an overhand knot. He really should’ve paid attention in knot-tying class.

Five minutes later, Antennae stomped over in his ripped shoe-socks, though little strips of bandage poked out.

Pinky smiled. If Antennae was stomping, his feet must be healing fast. And then he’d be okay again.  

However, Antennae didn’t seem to think so.

“Wipe that ridiculous expression from your face, Terran,” Antennae scowled, his foot tapping impatiently. “Hand over all the information you know. I want answers, and I want them now.”  

AN note: I’d like to give credit to @pluto-art for her wonderful drawing of Brain as a cute little alien.  With the way she posed him, I knew I wanted to incorporate that somewhere and this chapter seemed like a good place to do it! I meant to credit her last chapter for the blaster idea but I forgot so I’m rectifying that now.  

Fig’s off to the races! Literally.

After the wringer I stuck him through last chapter, Brain seriously needed some cuddles. He’s a little touch-starved. Also, he’s a bad guest. Don’t tie your friend up, Brain. That’s just rude.

[solecize]

.  .  .   𝑹𝑼𝑵𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑰𝑵 𝑪𝑰𝑹𝑪𝑳𝑬𝑺 (PT9) |  

college has suddenly become a playground of the rich and elite for the country’s finest youth. born and bred into a world of private islands, sports cars, and baths of chanel perfume, you’re on top of everything as apart of one of the most envied social circles in the world. with a nickname of ‘the g.o.d club’—meaning ‘gifted or desired’—there is without a doubt certain high expectation set for members of this group. from princes to old money socialites, not just anybody can join your ranks. enter sicheng, new money who spells out trouble with his return…years after the two of you broke each other’s hearts.

when you lived a ten minute drive away from campus in your parents’ ginormous estate, it would seem pointless for you to move into a dormitory. nothing appeared appealing in the form of a cramped up room, communal washrooms, and a shitty cafeteria to eat from every morning. however, it was initially kunhang’s idea and ten’s insistence that you decided to move into one of the in-campus residences. one of your friends decided to follow suit and just like that, it was a chain reaction. you tried to make your tiny single room as home feeling as you could, installing shelves and adorning them with knick knacks, books, and flora. 

“it’s like my grandmother’s garden threw up in here.” xiaojun’s eyebrows were raised all the way up to his hairline, as his eyes scanned your room for the first time.

behind him, kun coughed at the smell of essential oils wafting through the air. “your room at home is nothing like this,” he said. “not that it’s bad. you’ve gone full hipster on us, y/n.”

you were halfway buried into your silk comforter and watching youtube videos when the two idiots decided to swing your door open without notice. it was clearly a mistake to give kun a copy of your key, even if he was the only ‘trustworthy’ one out of your friends. you grumbled, yanking one of your airpods out of your ear.

“why. are. you. here.”

“we just finished decorating my room upstairs and we’re bored,” xiaojun carelessly explained, plopping down onto your desk chair. kun moved to the foot of your twin bed, but you kicked him as soon as he made contact.

you bit down on your lip to shut away the curses threatening to spill out. “get out, dorks, i need alone time.”

xiaojun reached out to touch the fern growing by your closet and you wanted nothing more than to hurl your slipper at him. “alone time with all these plants?” he snicked at that, but you just rolled your eyes.

the truth was, you really did love those plants. it reminded you of your grandfather’s house, where you would go during your childhood. he taught you how to nurture and look after plants like they were humans. it brought out a more gentle side in you. 

there were only three things that you really did in that dorm room. the first was sleeping, obviously. mostly naps, though, since you spent a decent amount of nights back in your parents’ home. your bedroom there was empty and decorated like a museum, but your bed was huge and soft, unlike the one provided by the school. the second was not study. third, you spend your time caring for your plants. they were the first thing that you loved to see in the morning.

that’s why you instantly knew something was wrong when you didn’t wake up next to them. 

the fabric enveloping your body felt like a cotton blend and was not nearly as soft as you were used to. your eyes were shut, stirring in your half asleep state, but you noticed the faint scent of sandalwood and ginger lingering somewhere around you. the door creaked open, but you were too lost in your fatigue and the pounding sensation in your head to even realize it.

“you awake?” at first, the voice sounded like one of the guys. maybe kun, who needed to borrow your kettle. it could’ve been ten, wanting to drag you out for breakfast. your lids were like cement, as you struggled to open your eyes.

honestly, you felt like absolute shit. your throat was wrung dry and you felt as though your insides were scraped clean. you weren’t sure what happened last night, but the lasting image of your nagging mother was tattooed into your memory. wait, your mother? and the pumping bass of shitty club music continued to make your ears ring and your body feel numb.

the line of sight was completely blurry at first and you could only make out the faint figure of a tall man by your doorway. however, it dawned upon you that it wasn’t your doorway. the succulents that normally hung on it was gone. this door was not coloured ivory like all of the other ones in your dormitory building, but a bleak grey. this wasn’t your room.

you began to scream, but due to the state of your throat, it came out strangled and suppressed. “what the fuck—”

“can you quiet down? it’s three in the afternoon and there’s some sort of yoga thing downstairs.”

when your vision cleared up, you didn’t want to believe what what in front of you. sicheng was the absolute last person that you wante to see at any time, much less when you were hungover and looking like garbage. he was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, with a backpack slung over his shoulder and some books in his hand that he placed down on his desk. 

you tried shooting up from the bed, but groaned at the sudden infliction of pain driving to your head. you rubbed your head, cursing under your breath, and a water bottle appeared in front of you. sicheng was extending it out to you, offering it.

shaking your head, you ripped off the covers and snatched your purse, spotting it on the floor. as gently as possible, you tried to bring yourself up on two feet. upon hitting the floor, you wobbled slightly, to which sicheng attempted to help you balance yourself. you flinched at his touch, backing away, only to fall right back onto the bed.

you gritted your teeth through your pain and irritation. “do not help me.”

“you’re not even gonna ask how you got here? out of an alleyway beside that shady club?” the male scoffed, not believing you.

“i’m not stupid. i probably got wasted and you were delivering pizza or something nearby and saw me,” you snapped. you didn’t need to hear the fully story because you didn’t care that he helped you. the only thing you wanted to do was to get out of there.

sicheng said, “close, but no cigar—hey, relax.” his eyes softened, watching you still try to leave. for the past twelve hours, he’d witnessed nothing but pain from you and it made his stomach drop to the soles of his feet.

“why are you pretending like you care about me?” it came out harsher and louder than you expected, but he didn’t even blink at the retort. he never did, so you weren’t surprised. 

“i’m being a good person! is it really that foreign for you, y/n?” he shot back.

at this point, the two of your faces were only centimeters apart. you scanned his expression to find any signs of dishonesty, but his eyes were only cold. you could smell the same sandalwood scent on him at this proximity, only closer with a touch of mint. you shut your eyes tightly.

you said, “i’m going now. you aren’t talking about this to anyone and,” you collected your bag and slipped into your heels left by his closet, no matter how bad your feet stung, “we are never talking again, period.”

“what, you’re still at the beck and call of your mother?” sicheng snorted, but you ignored his statement. those words were what really stung, nothing in comparison to the aches of your body. 

inhaling deeply, you fired, “at least my mother isn’t a scam artist!” your back was turned to sicheng at this point, but you could hear his chuckle.

“whatever. go live your life, y/n. be the it girl at every gala and runway, the heiress who lives her life on social media,” sicheng said. “you were never that girl from high school anyway, it was just a sham.”

the last thing you did was pluck a bottle of aspirin off his desk, shaking some into your hand for the road. you wanted nothing to do with sicheng, you repeated in your mind. he had no reason to help you, you weren’t a charity case. 

for a moment there, the hazy memories of last night began to pour in. sicheng dragging you into an uber from outside the night club. he bought you vending machine ramen and pulled your hair back when you threw up. you probably hit him a few times in the process. it sent a couple drops of guilt into your body, but you swallowed it down. you wanted nothing to do with sicheng.

“in case ten asks, i couldn’t find a way into your room!” you heard sicheng’s voice call out when you were halfway down his hallway, but you weren’t sure what he was talking about. 

meanwhile, sicheng stared at the bed that you were just laying it, cursing to himself when he realized that you left your purse. 

[fuckzachariah]

Her body unwound itself before him, bending and molding with the practiced certainty of a well-oiled machine. If she were not so elegant in her movements, she would mimic something of a man-made structure; too precise, too restrained, to be all the way human. As he observed her, for perhaps the first time since they had met one another, Zach felt nervous. It wasn’t easy to identify the feeling for what it was at first. It started as a tight, small knot at the base of his throat, bobbing steadily when he tried to swallow it down, until it spread into a long rope all the way to his gut. There, it wrung tight and hard, a dirty dishrag between strong, weathered hands. It could've had him keeling over before her. It spread next to his limbs, his blood held hostage by static, hand numb as Alex plucked the extended coffee from it. Zach blinked, reminding himself to smile. To breathe. Her eyes turned soft and watery. Though, despite this trick, she still wore a venerable quality about her, something of a film stretched between them. She was here, but not quite.

Zach shrugged, a little useless. “What can I say,” he offered; a half-hearted attempt at humor in the rapt hold of temporary paralyzation. He pulled back his hood and removed his sunglasses, his discretion now rendered futile before someone who had known him better than anyone, folding the Tom Fords up and tapping them rhythmically into the heel of his palm. The pattern served as some form of grounding mechanism, giving him an anchor to reality. He was relieved to hear her reiterate his sentiment; ultimately, he couldn’t have been sure how she felt about seeing him again. They did not leave things on an amiable note, so to speak. Though it was difficult to ever deny the palpable existence of their affection for one another, the way it weaved through and fuelled even their most torrid of battles, it was more than probable all that old softness would’ve long hardened by now. 

In one piece. It was an interesting theory. Was he? He supposed, technically, yes. Perhaps more of a whole piece than she had ever known intimately. So why now, looking into the face that still painted up his dreams sideways, did he feel there was an essential stitch missing? And that he kept bursting from the hole it left, that he couldn’t help it. She continued to parse information about him, regurgitating her understanding of his life now in a manner that turned his stomach. Through it, he only offered the tiniest of smiles in affirmation, transfixed on her face enough to pass for any manner of positive response. In fact, she continued to burble like water from a fountain; spouting off in marvelous, histrionic directions, a real show. The corner of his lip upturned subtly, genuinely, as he listened to her, mildly amused by the tangent. He took a sip of his coffee and allowed it to settle his stomach.

Zach was glad to understand her intention behind asking to meet him. A part of him felt disappointment, though he wasn’t sure for what, or that he even felt justified in the feeling. The question was how do we navigate our new, weirdly adjacent lives? and not how do we ditch it all and try again? He felt intensely guilty for even the fleeting thought. Everything she had assumed of him was true; he was happy. So why did he have to suppress these heart-shot desires, striking him like a bolt? She looked at him and it was like surrendering. “…Weird,” he finished her sentence, chuckling a little. He didn’t want to make her feel embarrassed, so he reigned it in - who knows if they were still on the same page, and if she would perceive his amusement as an insult rather than the sign of endearment that it was?

“Ale,” he began, the nickname plucked intuitively from somewhere deep and untouched within him. It was slightly too big in his mouth, too sweet on his tongue. He hadn’t said it in over two years. “Processing it is one thing. Navigating it is another. First thing’s fuckin' first though, right?” He spoke with confidence, which it surprised him he felt, too. He had forgotten that he knew who he was around Alex. “We both lied, at some point. And if we’re committing to that lie for the comfort of… all this, then we need to sort of get our stories straight and figure out a gameplan. Otherwise you,” he clicked his tongue, that old, undying habit, and the gold hiding in all his hazel eyes flashing wickedly as he pointed one of the fingers wrapped around his cup at her. “Will keep acting like a complete freak around me, and you’ll give the whole gig up.” Zach grinned. “So, tell me, what excuse did you give? Please tell me it was that you have a crush on the Zach Winthrop.”

Alexandra effortlessly slipped into the rhythm of her morning routine, one she never imagined would lead to a professional career in dance. Initially, it was not a conscious choice but rather a suggestion from Andrew, who urged her to slip back into a pair of pointe shoes. Intrigued by the prospect of rediscovering the fragments of herself lost to time, she embraced the challenge. This decision was not tied to Zach; long before meeting him, she grappled with her purpose. In a search for true fulfillment and happiness, she found herself dissatisfied with her social standing, refusing to be defined by her father’s name or the size of her trust fund. Monotony became an oppressive weight in her life, and she grew tired of the façade she presented to the world. Prim. Proper. Perfect. What was more perfect than a ballerina? Yet, ironically, it became the first casualty on her quest to self-discovery – a decision she would later regret. The regret, however, was not for the journey itself, for it ultimately guided her right into Zach’s arms. Although it took time for her to willingly open herself to him, the experience was intrinsic to her evolution as individual, as a woman. In the beginning, he was everything she desired. A deviation from the conventional, a stark contrast to what society expected her to embrace. In the societal script that girls like her were seemingly born to follow, the expected denouement was marriage to men of Andrew Dupree’s caliber.

She was groomed for such a fate, attending the finest private schools Los Angeles could boast, where grades were a secondary concern. College was an optional pursuit, with her father’s substantial donation serving as a guaranteed ticket to the institution of her choosing, regardless of GPA. Encouraged to the epitome of well-roundedness, she was to engage in a myriad of extracurricular activities from equestrian and tennis to cheerleading, debate club, and the Honor’s Society. Each was chosen to enhance her allure, providing a conversational arsenal for those inevitable first dates with impeccably dressed but perhaps mundane men. The goal was clear – spark their interest amid the clinking of dirty martinis and potentially land a husband. Zach could not have cared less about any of it. Her father harbored a strong disdain for him which only made her desire him more. Witnessing the disapproval etched on Matthew Burton’s face brought her unparalleled joy, visibly irritated at the mere mention of his name. Zach’s infatuation with her knew no bounds; there was nothing he wouldn’t do for her, even putting his entire career on the line once before. However, his ardent devotion did not blind him to the necessity of putting her in her place when circumstances demanded. For someone accustomed to a lifetime of control, she had finally met her match in him.

While she was more than willing to let him take the reins in every aspect, she also possessed the discernment to know when to reclaim control. Their dynamic was a game, a perpetual push and pull, each attempting to assert dominance over the other. The fluid exchange of power happened seamlessly, weaving through their interactions. But somewhere along the way, their course took a turn. The love that bound them never wavered, but an escalating tension infiltrated their relationship. Arguments were longer, more frequent, and more intense. Alex found herself confronted with a side of her own character she had never before encountered, nor desired to acknowledge. Undoubtedly, Zach felt the same. Their times apart left both of them desperate to avoid the pain of being distant, pushing them toward unhealthy coping mechanisms that did little to alleviate it. The conundrum they faced was an impossible one: what do you when you can’t be together, yet you can’t be apart? Their struggle persisted through months of on-and-off contact, punctuated by a near-fatal car accident that finally compelled them to sever ties. It was far from clean; there was no neat conclusion. Even in their final moments together, the misunderstandings lingered. Two years later, Alex had done her best to bury the past, preparing to wholeheartedly embrace a new life with Andrew. But of course, Zach’s unexpected return disrupted her plans.

When around him, Alex struggled with an unsettling fear. It was though invisible threads still tethered her heart to his, gently coaxing her in his direction. While she had anticipated her jealously, there was an unexpected resurgence of the magnetic pull she thought she had long overcome. Perhaps it was just the heat of the moment. The effects of the champagne coursing through their veins, leaving her a bit lightheaded and confused – a familiar trait of her lightweight nature. She dismissed the swirling thoughts from her mind, and with a purposeful stride, made her way to the studio speakers. Setting the music to a low volume, she sought to fill the looming silence. In doing so, she inadvertently created a shield against the anticipation of his possible entrance. With a little more time at her disposal, Alex settled onto the smooth wooden floor. The palpitations of her heart seemed to echo in the quiet space, and a kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttered within the confines of her stomach. Sensing the need to center herself, she unfolded her legs, stretching each one, accompanied by measured, deep breaths. Mindful of her encroaching anxiety, she endeavored to stay a step ahead, preventing any potential regression. The slow expansion and contraction of her chest mirrored the deliberate pace of her breaths. As she closed her eyes, the soft radiance of the studio light enveloped her, creating a cocoon of tranquility where she could collect and organize her thoughts. Even if just for a moment.  

Leaning forward with her back turned to the door, Alex rolled her fingertips against the soft fabric surrounding her legs, reaching for the very tips of her toes in a final stretch. It was then that the melodic sound of his voice reached her ears, reminiscent of him just waking beside her, rolling over to offer a warm morning greeting. Glancing over her shoulder, she discovered him standing there, attempting to conceal himself beneath layers yet he was still easily discernible. At least to her. It made her laugh. Rising gracefully to her feet, she smoothed her palms along the sides of her hips as she ambled toward him. “Morning,” she echoed, accepting the offered cup, warmth radiating through her fingers. Her brows furrowed in a mixture of surprise and appreciation as she inspected the label, realizing her still he remembered her order. Of course he did. “You didn’t have to do that,” she said, looking up at him with eyes softening. “But it’s really sweet of you to remember.” Zach, clearly not one for small talk, dove directly into expressing his emotions. A faint smile played upon her lips, “Surely, you didn’t fantasize about our reunion happening under these circumstances,” she quipped, another soft ripple of laughter scaping her. Her gaze drifted slowly over his features, savoring the opportunity to appreciate them once more. Now, in the solace of being alone and uninterrupted, she could take her time. In the gentle light, her eyes caught a glimpse of the faint scar just above his lip and she wondered how he had acquired it. “It’s good to see you too. And in one piece.”

Alex nodded her head, as if reflecting on and affirming the sentiment before verbalizing it, “You seem…peaceful, happy. That makes me really happy for you. Though this whole situation might challenge that a bit.” A contemplative pause hung in the air before she continued, “I just felt like we needed to... I don’t know. Process what just happened. I know we might have planned on not seeing each other again, but it seems like we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other, and I don’t want to make it weird. I mean, it’s weird,” she rambled on, a nervous energy tingeing her words. “It's never not going to be weird, but the least amount of weird that we can make it. Last night was…” Her words spilled out in a heartfelt and sincere attempt to navigate the uncharted waters between them.

[bitter69uk]

In these grim socially quarantined, coronavirus-ravaged times, the return of Sam Pancake’s essential Monday Afternoon Movie podcast (devoted to kitschy forgotten made-for-TV movies from the seventies and eighties) is a ray of sunshine! One recent installment concerned paranormal thriller Daughter of the Mind (1969), which is viewable on YouTube. Like many of these films it stars some veteran Golden Age Hollywood figures in their twilight years (and grateful for employment). In this case: Ray Milland (wearing a gruesome toupee and chewing the scenery) and Gene Tierney in one of her final acting roles. Seeing her in this is bittersweet. I’d argue the exquisite Tierney was one of the most haunting and memorable actresses of the forties and fifties - and she's SO bad in this! She really phones it in and seemingly doesn’t give a fuck! But to be fair to Tierney, the role is so thankless: her character is made to be arthritic and confined to a wheelchair, just to ensure it's as unglamorous as possible. I hate commenting on older actress' appearances, but I estimated Tierney was about 60 here. In fact, she’s only 49. (Milland and Tierney are meant to be the parents of a young girl – they seemed more like her grandparents). Another thing that was striking: as an older woman, Tierney had become a husky "baritone babe”: her voice had grown dramatically deeper from decades of heavy smoking. Entirely different from her voice in the forties and fifties.  Guessing by her ultra-detached and begrudging performance, Tierney was clearly ready to pull the plug on her acting career by the time she appeared in Daughter of the Mind. But don’t feel too bad for her: in 1961 Tierney married a millionaire Texas oil baron (Hedy Lamarr’s ex-husband, in fact!) so presumably enjoyed a serene and affluent retirement. (I’d assumed this was her last-ever acting job – but according to Wikipedia Tierney cropped-up one more time in the 1980 TV mini-series Scruples. She died in 1991). Imagine if Tierney’s contemporary Eleanor Parker - an actress of an extremely different temperament and approach - had tackled the part instead.  She would have seized the opportunity with both hands and wrung maximum drama out of it. And she had form in playing characters in wheelchairs (The Man with the Golden Arm (1955), Eye of the Cat (1969)). 

Let’s face it: the puritanical, hypocritical and homophobic hellsite Tumblr has become a dying platform since it banned adult content in December 2018. I post here less and less. Follow me instead on Instagram, Twitter, Facebook or on my blog. Fuck Tumblr!

[jhoe]

Washclothes/sponges/etc hold more germs than your hands. So while they may offer more friction, they also offer a home for dirty germs that can transfer onto you when you use them.

thats why.. you wash them ?

[bankerlentil95-blog]

The 5-Second Trick For Vaping Cbd Oil

[25] Safety research studies of cannabidiol showed it is actually well-tolerated, but may cause exhaustion, looseness of the bowels, or changes in hunger as common unpleasant results. Their CBD mixed drink is called The Armany and also it possesses champagne, elderflower alcohol as effectively as gin and some CBD oil. I sometimes view individuals that mention that CBD can interrupt their rest. Prescribed medication (Plan 4) for restorative usage including 2 per-cent (2. So it is actually effectively worth providing it a try out. I can't rest due to the fact that my body remains in a lot discomfort. Many of the online reviews for vaping cbd oil have been really great. While CBD plainly has medical advantages, quite handful of individuals would certainly intend to use it for recreation. Once a staple of the below ground economic situation can ultimately find the lighting of day, business owners formulated methods to offer weed along with progressively complicated production procedures, and keeping that, greater rates. Have you tried vaping cbd oil? The chemical has actually infiltrated the lifestyles of daily United States, as well as, like just about every thing that arouses the passion of the country, CBD has been wrung bent on its own max economic ability. I do not know much about vaping cbd oil but I would like to learn a lot more. [6] They assessed CBD as well as considered it to become naturally inactive. Cannabidiol (CBD) is actually a stimulating focus of health care analysis, preferred media, and laws pertaining to cannabis. Essentially, this implies that letting sufficient CBD seep into your bloodstream makes you think higher without affecting your sensory understanding, surging your stress and anxiety or even making you hungry. Weed is actually still government banned. Along With African-american Belt CBD, Krista Whitley is actually playing a small but necessary duty in a progressing production of battle sports. cbd oil [show] Chemical make up [program] Usage [series] Business economics [series] Impacts [series] Types [show] Law [series] Regional [series] Alternatives [show] Related [show] Marijuana gateway. On the other hand, in California, legislators just recently suppressed dining establishments and cafes helping every thing coming from coffee and juice to various other meals infused along with CBD. Eventually, all the cash may possess gone to a source that's additional placebo than remedy. THC is the cannabinoid very most individuals want when trying to find a higher. The elongated eight-second draw offers the marker an ultra-luxurious feel, as well as the delectable bubble flavors (BubbleWish, Grapephoria, Dish) will definitely keep you happening back for more. Of training program, this is all experimental. An instance of CBD-infused cool brew coffee & herbal tea on a convenience store shelve. There seems to be a shift happening in the world of vaping cbd oil and no one understands what tomorrow will bring. Higher CBD, reduced THC (e.

[st-johns-homo-blog]

como acaba com a queda de cabelo

Stay away from damaging your hair when shampooing. Before you place any shampoo on your hair, ensure that it is entirely wet. Then, lather the shampoo inside your hands and apply for your hair. Scrub no longer than thirty seconds. By taking these ways, you may steer clear of any added hair breakage. For those who want to type your hair in a ponytail, steer clear of putting the ponytail in the identical spot in your head each time. Even employing soft, fabric-covered scrunchies can cause repeated anxiety to that place which will end result in eventual breakage. For those who should tie your hair back for your task, give your hair a break by letting it down all through your non-work hours. Moisturize your curly hair with pure essential oils. Irrespective of ethnicity, curly hair is susceptible to dryness and breakage. When there are several moisturizers available on the market, very simple oils like jojoba and coconut are most conveniently utilized by your system. Moreover, they are really cheap! To get a speedy and easy to the go hair tamer, attempt a dab of one's favored hand lotion. Only rub a small amount to the palm of your hand and stroke your hair in a downward course. This will tame frizz quickly as well as offer you the benefit of conditioning your hair, at the same time. Distribute your hair's all-natural oils all through all of your hair. To perform this, start by bending more than and brushing your hair. Start on the scalp and brush down in the direction of the finish of one's hair. Once your hair is brushed the many way by means of, massage your scalp with your fingers. A great hair care tip should be to check out distinct dandruff shampoos, should you do, indeed, have dandruff. Loads of the time people with dandruff will say they are not noticing effects with their dandruff shampoo. It is because diverse dandruff shampoos all have distinct substances in them, so making use of a range will cover all the bases. For those who have fine or thin hair, steer clear of the usage of hefty conditioners. They'll only serve to weigh the hair down and make it seem thinner and finer. Mousse-type conditioners or lightly sprayed leave-in conditioners operate most effective to add some volume with out appearing heavy or greasy within the hair shaft. If you are working with a hair dryer to dry your hair you should not hold it in one particular area in your hair for just about any amount of time. The centered heat on that element from the hair may cause harm and dry your hair out unnecessarily. Retain it moving! Individuals with curly hair really should definitely prevent applying smoothing brushes and other brushes that have dense, fine bristles. You need to use a wide-tooth comb for almost any combing. On the other hand, you ought to get care to use a heavy detangler just before attempting to comb out knots and other tangles, as curly hair is susceptible to breakage. When you feel that your hair is looking rather dry, here is an at-home conditioning remedy to suit your needs to consider. Once you have got washed your hair and wrung out a lot of the wetness, apply your conditioner after which pop on a shower cap for a handful of minutes. The heat generated will make it possible for the conditioner to deeply penetrate your hair follicles. Check the labels in your hair care items. Be sure the goods are correct for the hair sort. Virtually all hair care goods are labeled specifically for dry, medium or oily hair. Working with the incorrect merchandise can dry out your hair or depart it seeking greasy. The labels are there for any motive. Your life-style influences the way in which your hair looks. Staying stressed, not having ample sleep or smoking tobacco means your hair won't appear good. You also have to maintain a balanced food plan so that your hair gets all of the nutritional vitamins and nutrients it requires. Eliminate your terrible routines and you ought to see a distinction! Drink additional water! Your hair requires water to thrive specifically during the winter months. Expanding your water intake can help regardless of what your hair kind is. Commence carrying a bottle with you and ensure that you are dealing with at the least a couple of bottles each day. Your hair will thank you. Dwell a healthy way of life for your health of your hair. Consume a balanced diet regime, and make sure you receive an abundance of work out. Extreme smoking, not finding enough sleep, along with other unhealthy habits are detrimental to the wellness of the hair. Take excellent care of on your own, along with your hair will observe suit. Lower the amount of heat you employ on your hair. Hair dryers, curling irons, and flat irons can all do considerable damage for your hair. Your hair and your skin are not that distinct, and also a products that will harm your skin will probably also injury your hair. Use these products much less usually or on the decrease setting when achievable. When picking your hair items, seem for items without any alcohol. Applying alcohol in your hair will make it quite dry and fragile. When you nevertheless need to use items containing alcohol, avoid making use of these goods on a daily basis and wash your hair thoroughly afterward, to ensure the product is rinsed out. for a lot more information stop by: https://rebrotadocabelo.com/

[a-pilecapinc-me]

How to Clean Different Types of Flooring in Your Home

Befuddled about which cleaning strategy is best for you floor? Some cleaning arrangements can do some amazing things for one sort of floor and unleash devastation on another. We thought we'd make it that tad simpler. So whatever your floor type, look at our top tips on the most proficient method to keep them transport shape. Pile Cleaning System

Covers and Tiles 

Normal vacuuming is fundamental for rugs, as it keeps free soil and coarseness from working into the floor covering heap where it will harm the filaments. Upstanding vacuum cleaners are ideal, particularly those with spinning brushes to oust inserted earth. Utilize the attractions head for circle heap floor coverings, as mixer brushes and heads can make the rug bobble. Producers suggest a yearly steam clean. Clean as per wear. Regardless of whether you do it without anyone's help or bring in the experts, high-traffic zones ought to be cleaned once at regular intervals. 

Common cure 

Eliminate wine or oil stains from cover by delicately sprinkling region with heating pop. Touch it up and add somewhat more if important. Leave on until the wine is consumed, at that point vacuum up any buildup left. 

Common Flooring 

All great quality regular floorcoverings ought to have a generous latex back to forestall residue and flotsam and jetsam falling through and guarantee simple support by vacuuming. A chamber type vacuum cleaner without brushes is the most ideal decision for characteristic floor materials to try not to harm the filaments. 

Most excellent characteristic floor materials are sold with a stain inhibitor that shields them from earth and delays there life, so request your provider for subtleties from cleaning items for regular filaments. These ought to be utilized on stains quickly - not once the stain has been consumed. Mop up with a perfect fabric or kitchen paper. Try not to utilize cover mousse or cleanser as these can make common floor materials recoil. 

Consider recruiting an expert cleaning organization on the off chance that you need to give your ground surface a careful clean, however ensure they utilize a dry-cleaning framework rather than a wet on.

Wooden Flooring 

Clear wooden floors consistently, or utilize a vacuum cleaner with a brush setting. Mop once every week or so with an all around wrung mop, utilizing lathery cleaner explicitly for use on wood. Try not to soak the floor or permit water to remain on it as this can cause harm. Wet-clean waxed sheets sparingly and wax clean them to improve the patina. Messy wax develop ought to be taken out with white soul and the sheets re-waxed. Treat designed sheets with oil or veneer reviver, applied with a delicate fabric. 

Regular cures 

Eliminate scrape marks from wooden floors by scouring them delicately with a pencil eraser. 

Draw out the normal shade of your wood flooring by cleaning the surface with lemon oil and a dry material. In any case, this just applies to characteristic and waxed deck, not stained floors. 

Cover flooring 

Overlay ought to be cleared or vacuumed routinely. Utilizing a moist fabric is fine, yet never splash the floor with water - they're intended to be water safe. Most spills on overlay can be eliminated with family cleaners at the same time, if the stain is lipstick, ink or indelible marker, attempt CH3)2CO. Never use scouring cushions to eliminate stains on overlay deck, and eliminate any fluid stains from the floor straightaway. 

The most effective method to clean tiles and stone deck 

Stone floors 

Stone will frequently have been treated before it left the plant. If not, it will stain effectively so it's essential to seal it with a restrictive sealant or, for earthenware and record, use linseed oil. When fixed, clean it with a blend of gentle cleanser and water. Nonetheless, it will require re-fixing at standard spans to keep it putting its best self forward. 

Promptly wipe away any acidic spills. 

Reconstituted stone should be fixed with a stain inhibitor at that point impregnated with a top layer of water-based sealant. It'll require re-fixing at regular intervals. Ask your maker or suppler for explicit consideration exhortation and reasonable items. 

Earthenware tiles 

Artistic tiles can be cleaned with a gentle cleanser and water arrangement and don't need fixing. Sodden mop your clay tile with a norm, universally handy more clean. Dry the floor with a delicate fabric to stay away from streaks. 

Never utilize brutal grating cleaners that may scratch the coating. 

Flagstone, limestone, record 

Moist mop flagstone or record floors utilizing either clear water, a generally useful cleaning arrangement in warm water, or water to which cleanser has been added. Wring the mop until it doesn't trickle, and apply it to the floor in sluggish, even strokes. Ask the maker for suggest the fitting cleaning item. 

Wipe up spills on unglazed floors quickly or they may cause a stain. 

Eliminate obstinate imprints with white soul, yet consistently do a spot test first. 

Adaptable ground surface 

Vinyls, tiles and elastic are hard wearing and simple to really focus on. The measure of cleaning and support depends both on your way of life and the shade of the floor. Vacuum or brush consistently to eliminate residue and coarseness that may prompt your floor being damaged, and follow with a week by week wipe with the cleaning specialist suggested by your provider. 

Eliminate scrape stamps by delicately scouring with a scouring cushion - the sort you would use to clean non-stick cookware. 

Clean the floor with gentle cleanser and water. Try not to utilize rough cleaners, which may leave a dull film on your floor. Be cautious with shower shines and other silicone-based items as they can make your floor tricky, as can white soul.

For More Info:- about pile repair or cleaning

[violettesiren]

She’s such a sass with her Essential Oils— are wrung—and her big-sister devilry, the way she tells me love is the noose every neck must slip.

I talk back to Emily,   and my throat tightens, my breath wrings out like wet linens, and comes undone in shades of magenta— I tell her my sad loves and she pours me cups of violets and nods. She knows

the heart’s winch reels in a tightrope stretched not for faint–hearted feet. She brings me into her confessional and absolves me, saying It is the gift of the Screw—

We sit up all night reading letters of transformation. We confide our tricks of morning dew and gossip diamonds within that skew and lens each spring’s debutante blooms, how those rays shatter sunrise into daggers.

Talking Back to Emily Dickinson by Rachel Dacus

[forestandfjord]

* The Alchemical Art of Distillation . Is making the invisible, visible. :: Through the use of fire, the earthly bodies of various Botanicals are distilled with wild water to transfer their Etheric energies from steam into the unique energetic essences of botanical waters & essential oils. . These hydrosols are most anciently referred to as Water of ____ . && are used in many different applications. Topically, internally, spagyricly; this alchemical rite has been practiced for thousands of years. The earliest botanical distillation records are from the ancient home of us all, Africa. :: There the herbs were boiled within ceramic urns, while acolytes held sheepskin above the brew to catch the steam within the woolen fibers. This was then wrung out, and the precious magical liquids were collected. . Over the years the styles have changed as materials and adaptions allowed for higher quality and better efficiency for the alchemist. :: The alembic style still is characterized by a boiler, and dome hat collecting steam, with some sort of neck directing the vapors into a cooler compartment. The oldest one discovered is dated at almost 4000 years old. It was ceramic rather than copper, and did not get cooled by cold water upon exiting the neck, however to think that not much has changed is fascinating. . There's a beauty in the simple yet utterly complex art of distillation, and I'm truly honored to be able to interact with the etheric realm of the plant kingdom and continue the role in our modern world as Alchemist. :: #makingmagicandmedicine