#Gout Cleaning

[tilecleaningtoday]

Richmond Tile Doctor explains how to Maintain Terracotta Kitchen Flooring

This Orange and Red Terracotta tiled floor at property near Richmond was absolutely filthy and proved to be a real challenge to get clean. It clearly hadn’t been professionally cleaned for some time and when I went to do the survey, I could see a build-up of grease and old sealer throughout.

Due to its porosity Terracotta is particularly vulnerable and to keep its appearance the sealer needs to be maintained correctly as it will wear in the busiest areas with use. In this case I was able to re-assure the homeowner that I would be able to strip off all the old layers of sealer, deep clean the tiles and re-seal to leave it looking like a new floor.

Happy with my quote I got the go-ahead and we agreed a date to start the work which should take two days, one to strip and clean and the other to seal.

Removing Sealer and Cleaning a Terracotta Tiled Kitchen Floor

To strip the sealer off the Terracotta floor I applied a strong dilution of Tile Doctor Remove and Go which is a powerful alkaline coatings remover that’s safe to use on Tile and Stone. The solution was sprayed on to the kitchen floor and then left to soak in for fifteen minutes to give it time to break down the sealer and soils.

I then inspected the floor and could see a lot more work would be needed to get it completely free of old sealer and dirt. As a result, there was nothing for it but to get down on my knees scrapping everything off the tiles with more Remove and Go. I found most of the old sealer and grease just flaked off but some areas were difficult. I had some assistance from a DeWalt handheld buffing machine fitted with a stiff brush but it was still very hard work, especially around the edges of the kitchen as my hands barely fit underneath the units.

After about six hours I was satisfied everything was removed and I could turn my attention to the grout. For this I hand scrubbed the grout lines using a strong dilution of Tile Doctor Pro-Clean rinsing and extracting as I went.

Last step in the cleaning process was to treat the tiles to an acid wash which will further clean the tiles and equalise the floors pH level after the use of alkaline cleaners earlier. I used Tile Doctor Grout Clean-Up for this which was first scrubbed in, then rinsed with water and extracted as before. The floor was rinsed down again two more times with water to remove any trace of product. I used the wet vacuum used to extract as much moisture from the floor as possible so it can have a better chance of drying out overnight.

Sealing a Terracotta Tiled Kitchen Floor

When I called back seal the Terracotta, I first checked the moisture readings in several areas with a damp meter to verify the floor was nice and dry. All was well so several coats of a Tile Doctor Seal and Go Extra were applied to the floor allowing forty minutes drying time between coats.

The new sealer left the now clean Terracotta tiles with an attractive mid satin finish and looked fantastic and was doubly improved by the grout cleaning which had responded well to the Pro-Clean. The customer was very pleased with the transformation in their floor which now looked clean and bright.

Before leaving we left the customer with a bottle of Tile Doctor Neutral cleaner for aftercare. To get the best from their Terracotta tiles it’s important that customers use the correct product for regular maintenance cleaning from the start, stronger products will reduce the life of the sealer.

Source: Terracotta Floor Tile Cleaning and Sealing Products and Services in Richmond South London

[colorfulhideouttaco]

Why You Need Professional Tile and Grout Cleaning Services in Melbourne?

As essential elements of a building's kitchen and bathroom areas, tiles and grout need to be cleaned promptly with expert tile and gout cleaning services in Melbourne to protect them from elements like water that might weaken the structure. In order to prevent mould growth and water seepage, grouts in both residential and commercial areas need to be in good condition. Grout deteriorates with time and can cause a variety of issues, such as the structural collapse of the structure.

Recolouring is usually required after tile and grout cleaning or concrete sealing in Melbourne since the colour has faded over time. The best flooring professionals understand that different floor types require different cleaning solutions. It takes regular scrubbing, washing, and rinsing, followed by a drying procedure, to keep floors tidy and clean. No water or moisture content is left in the last step thanks to the suction mechanism.

Why Is It So Important to Hire Professionals to Seal Concrete on a Regular Basis?

For surfaces to be protected from stains, water damage, and other environmental factors, concrete sealing is essential. Professional concrete sealing services employ high-quality sealants, and this technique works well for driveways, patios, and garage floors. Sealants also make surfaces easier to clean by preventing dirt and grime buildup; with regular cleaning, all dirt may be removed.

There are three main types of concrete floor sealers: penetrating, integral, and topical. Since topical sealers are found on the outside of concrete buildings, they are very protective and may be applied to both external and interior surfaces. Conversely, penetrating sealers create a compound barrier that keeps the concrete safe by entering the concrete. The preservation process starts early since integrated sealers are only added to the concrete blend in the plant. High-pressure cleaning, another service provided by professional cleaners, is capable of removing even the most stubborn grime from building surfaces.

Tile sealing is essential for preserving the building's structural soundness over time and preventing the growth of mould, which can also cause health issues. Get an estimate from the best companies that offer various tile regrouting, sealing, and associated services to preserve the stability and safety of your building's structure.

Source: https://squeaky-tile-and-grout-cleaning.blogspot.com/2025/06/why-you-need-professional-tile-and.html

[numerousenbees]

Shrimp:

existing at one food station in college dining hall. no where near me, havent seen more than one person with the dish

my rosacea:

oh! undetectable smell of shrimp :D

also i like new orleans but i dont think i would survive if it is fully an airborne allergy now (planning to get it tested)

[newspecies]

read this is not a ghost story by andrea portes. it was okay? just not my thing honestly. a little too big on love at first sight and romance in general. but the surreal stuff at the end was cool and i really liked titular character the hammer

[xoxomilesteller]

daddy’s girl

father figure!beau arlen x reader | MDNI

cw: daddy kink (daddy, dad), mentions of a toxic dad, unprotected p in v (no balloon no goon), praising, pet names (doll, sweet girl), dacryphilia (i think?), legal age gap (on a role w these ones lmao), finger sucking, fingering, kinda rushed

def has grammar mistakes!

inspired by @honeyroots and this!

wc: 1.8k

growing up, you always had troubles with your dad. you used to be such a daddy���s girl when you were younger but when you became a tween, your relationship started to change. fights became a common thing and he’d always yell at your for everything you did.

you just missed the man he was when you were younger.

you missed being in his arms, feeling like he can and will protect you from anything.

so when you met beau, you knew you were in deep trouble.

and it only got worse since you guys started dating.

beau didn’t mean for it to happen, you were drastically younger than him and had so much energy, but he loves it. he loves the adrenaline rush you give him because he never knows what’s going to happen around you, and he’ll just go with it.

beau is the embodiment of a perfect dad. he’s protective, sweet, mannered, has grey hairs growing on his chin. you tend to piss him off a lot because he gets irritated, but he doesn’t yell at you. he sits you down, talks about it in his dad voice, and that’s it.

but the dad voice just does something to you.

and beau does know about the issues your father has given you. however, you try to steer clear of even talking about him because you’ll end up in tears and beau would want to console you, only making everything worse for you.

you haven’t introduced them yet, you didn’t want to hear your dad shame you or try to insult beau. but beau being the family man he is, he’s been begging and begging you to meet him.

so you gave in.

you’ve stressed clean the entire house, even scrubbed the gout from the bathroom tiles, you cooked enough food for the entire neighborhood, you paced around in the kitchen, chewing nervously on your lip until he came.

the dinner was going good. 

then your dad raised his voice at you, which sent you back to your younger years. beau didn’t yell at your dad, but simply and politely asked him to leave since you got up and walked away from the table to cry.

you don’t like crying in front of beau because again, he’d try to console you, making things much worse because your boyfriend is a much better authority figure than your own father ever was.

when beau sees your dad out, he walks to the room, his face instantly softening at the scene in front of him. you’re laying down, face buried into the pillow to silence your sobs, your body shaking with each one. 

“doll?” he rubs your back

you flinch, not expecting him, but you just shake your head.

beau frowns, “let me be there for you doll,” he whispers softly

and it just does something to you.

you nod.

he wastes no time in settling down next to you, back against the headboard and picking you up, settling you down on his lap and wrapping his big arms around you. you bury your wet face in the crook of beau’s neck, clinging onto him.

“don’t listen to what he had to say doll,” he whispers and pulls your head back to look at you.

he knows it’s bad timing, but you look so beautiful. your lips are swollen and pouted, eyes are glassy and wide, lashes look extra long. he is flexing his thigh to the point it will start cramping because he dick cannot stop twitching.

“let dad take care of you, yeah?”

you sniffle and nod.

he smiles and leans over to the nightstand, grabbing a tissue to wipe your tears clean, “prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he mutters, using his left hand to hold your face steady.

“thank you for not yelling back at him,” your voice cracks and your gaze lands on his eyes

“i know doll, i know,” he coos, “not gonna stoop down to his level”

you bury your face again onto his skin, feeling more tears come out at his words. you didn’t realize how healing this is, freely sobbing in his arms without the fear of getting yelled at for it, which only makes you cry more. beau holds you, flush against him, feeling your body shake.

he ignores his hard on, which cannot be avoided now that you’re shaking on top of him. you feel it growing too, but you also ignore it. you know beau gets hard easy, you tease him a lot about it, but right now, you just want to stay in his arms.

beau loves his skin to skin, so he slips off the straps of your dress and bra, which you allow and you sit back, to let him remove his shirt. then he pulls you in, which automatically makes your heart beat quicker. the warmth of his skin against yours, the smell of him, the way he just heals you.

“it’s okay doll,” his hands massage your skin, “jus’ let it all out,” he drawls, “daddy’s gotcha”

you nod, coating his chest in your tears. you tilt your head up to look at him and he softly smiles, bringing his hand to wipe incoming tears out of the corner of your eyes, “whatever y’need, i’ll give, ‘kay?”

beau cannot stand the fact that you’re anything but happy, but it’s impossible to not think about how pretty you are. with every sob, he wants to fuck you, but in the most gentle way possible. he wants to take care of you, make you feel loved and protected, make you happy.

“i just need you,” you sniffle

he nods and pulls you in tighter.

God. he fucking loves you.

all you can think about is how your dad yelled at you, and all the other times he’s yelled at you. the worst times were when you were crying, like this. you don’t want to think about it anymore.

you don’t want to think. period.

“i want you to make me feel better daddy,” you mumble into his chest

“that’s what my doll wants?”

you nod and he sits you up right, to get a better look at your tear stained face, “such a daddy’s girl aren’t you?”

“yes,” you whisper, his thumb trailing over your pouted lips.

you kiss the pad of his thumb and take it into your mouth, tasting the saltiness of his skin and your tears.

“my sweet girl,” he coos, rubbing the back of your head with his other hand, “that’s it doll,” he praises when he feels your tongue swirl over the tip of his finger, “that’s it,” he trails his hand down to where your dress is all bunched up. you lift your hips, providing easier access for him to slip it off. his hand cups your heat, feeling how wet you are through your panties, “my poor doll,” he kisses the side of your face, “must be so uncomfortable, yeah?”

you remove his thumb from your mouth, pouting at him, “it is,” your voice is still wavering

“lay on your side, facin’ me, i’ll take care of you”

while you do that, beau removes his pants and lays on his side too, turning to you. beau has to see your face, he feels so messed up for thinking it, but he needs to see you come apart while you cry, he feels like it just might be the most beautiful thing to witness. 

he scoots closer to you, taking one of your legs and placing it on his waist to open you up. he slips a hand under your panties, “this what you need doll?” his middle and ring finger tease your swollen and wet lips

you gasp when he finally slides them in, your nails clawing his chest. each thrust of his fingers makes tears fall out of your eyes.

“let’s keep those pretty eyes open and on me, okay?”

beau can cum right now, with the sounds of your tight cunt taking his fingers, your soft moans, the way you look. your eyes.  and he just watches your face, watches the tears roll out of your eyes, your mouth drop open, the way you struggle to keep your eyes open.

it’s embarrassing how easily with just his fingers he can fuck the sense out of you. with every curl of them and hits your gummy spot, you forget more and more on what happened earlier with your dad.

“gonna cum f’me doll?”

you nod frantically, “please”

he groans when he feels your walls tighten around his fingers, along with your leg around his waist, his cock throbbing at the sight of you.

he desperately needs to be inside of you, so his thrusts his fingers harder, “let go doll”

at his command, you instinctively close your eyes and let your hips roll on his fingers, riding your orgasm out. while you’re still recovering, he slides off your panties and with no warning, pulls you in closer and shoves his cock inside of you, causing you to scream his name.

“sorry doll, couldn’t help myself,” he kisses your forehead, “jus’ had to have you ‘round me again,” he places a hand on your hip, squeezing the flesh, his hot breath fanning over your face

he slowly rolls his hips, leaving just the tip, then sliding back in with more force that leaves your eyes rolling back.

“daddy,” you sob

“If it’s too much y’can tell me doll,” he pants

you shake your head, “d-don’t stop”

each roll of his hips, remind you of how thick he is, just when your walls get used to his size, he just slides back in, hitting that spot. you thought he was going to fuck you, hard and fast, but this is way better. you can really feel him, feel every vein, every ridge. and his hand just travels around your body, like he owns it, because he does. no one can make you feel this good, this full, not even yourself.

only beau.

he watches you, feels you. feels you clench around him, how your nails dig into his skin, continues watching the tears roll out of your eyes and kisses them away.

“dad’s gotchu doll, i gotchu,” he pulls you in for a bear hug, flush against his body

it only heightens the intensity more, being so close to him, but your brain is mush. the only thing in your head is beau’s cock and you don’t ever want it to leave.

beau starts moving your hips on him, guiding them gently on his cock, the base of it rubbing your clit. the pace of his own hips start to falter, so he’s close.

“i’m gonna-“

“yeah?” he grunts, “go ‘head doll”

your walls seal him in, tight, and you cum around his cock, moaning his name as loud as you can, tears spilling. he follows right after, feeling him shoot inside of you.

“you want me to stay in ‘ere doll?” he pants, chest heaving and brushes hair out of your face

you nod “please”

he kisses you, “forgot why you were cryin’ didn’t you?” he chuckles 

“thank you,” you say softly

“anythin’ for my sweetest doll”

AN: THIS WAS SO RUSHED SORRY LMAO

banner by: @dollywons

tags: @redhairedgardenfairy

[kaijutegu]

So. Now that she's home and safe and gonna be ok, I can talk about this.

I almost lost Kaiju. Christmas Day. I was woken up by a phone call from Allison, who will be referred to a LOT in this story. Allison runs the pet store where I board Kaiju. She called to tell me that Kaiju had lost a LOT of blood. (As it turns out, half her blood volume. Humans die when we lose 40%, just so you know. She lost 50%.)

There were no visible injuries, and she had passed a bloody stool. Or rather, a blood clot with some poop in it. She continued to pass only blood when they put her in the bathtub to clean her up. If I'd taken her anywhere else, that... would have been it, probably.

But Allison is an actual miracle worker and knew an emergency vet who was open- on Christmas Day- and could see reptiles. As soon as she called me, she took her to the e vet, where they gave her fluids and oxygen and got her stable. They did some x rays and found... nothing.

In fact, the e vet actually complimented me on her bone density and how nice her toe joints look. Whatever this mysterious haemorrhage was, it was in the soft tissue.

The immediate thoughts were:

Impaction

Cancer invading an artery

Aneurism

Reproductive issues

However, the emergency vet couldn't figure it out, and my vet was out of the country. The e vet consulted with a lot of vets and it was decided she'd go into Chicago Exotics for care the next day- they were willing to see her on immediate notice. Allison drove her over and they did an ultrasound... and couldn't differentiate the mass they found.

So, exploratory surgery it was.

But... she didn't have enough blood for that. She wouldn't have survived... if Allison hadn't found blood for her. Tegu donors were found, the transfusion happened, and was completely successful.

And what the surgery found was completely unexpected. No cancer. No repro issues. No typical impaction.

Instead? Weird white things in her muscles and a partial impaction that seems to be related to a reduction in her ability to properly digest. There are two possible diagnoses at this point. One is visceral gout. This is very strange because in reptiles, articular gout basically always happens first, and her kidneys are fine.

The other option? Weird, potentially cross species parasite she picked up when she was in the Everglades. Something she's likely had all her life, something that was dormant until recently.

I'll know when the pathology report comes back in a week or so.

Anyways! She is doing very well. She is alert and interested in things. She has an incredible appetite, even though she can't have solid food yet. She's on three meds, including one I have to inject. At her three week recheck, we will add a fourth- either the correct anti-parasitic or a medication to improve kidney function, depending on the diagnosis. Currently she's in a hospital cage and she hates it- she can't have any substrate because of the stitches.

The vet says it should take about three months until she makes her full blood volume. Her pack cell count should be at 35%. It was at 7% on the 26th. But by the 28th, it was at 10%. She's gonna be ok. She's tough. My little girl is a fighter, always has been. You have to be scrappy to survive in the wild.

And throughout this entire experience, everybody has told me how lovely her personality is. Through the injections and cloacal probing and everything, she never bit or even tried to. The vet didn't think she even wanted to bite. Like it wasn't a question of wanting to bite and not being strong enough- it's just not something in her behavioural repertoire. She doesn't bite because she doesn't want to. Because even at her most scared, at her most painful, she's still Kaiju, the best tegu to ever live. Love is stored in the tegu, and it continues to be stored in the tegu. We have a long road ahead of us, but she's out of the woods and is going to be ok. We both are.

Also, consider this a MAJOR plug for Curious Creatures in Chicago. I'm never going to board my animals anywhere else.

[syndrossi]

Interaction Canon! Rhaegar and Daemon. It could be at the Trident, or when Daemon's "ghost" comes to Aegon's cradle, or whatever, but the POV of Canon!Rhaegar

Well, since the New Year is a hopeful time, I opted for the "Daemon finds himself literally/physically at the Battle of the Trident" version of this...

Enjoy these 100-ish (*mumble* 1200-ish *mumble*) words...

x~x~x

The tepid waters of the Trident at its lowest crossing had a choked stench to them even when they weren’t red with the blood and bile of lives spent needlessly. And as much as Rhaegar blamed his father’s cruelty, honed to a deadly edge by the horrors he suffered at Duskendale, his own foolish heart was equally at fault.

Not for loving Lyanna. There was nothing foolish about that. But in thinking he might concentrate his father’s fury on himself alone by eloping in secret, trusting that for all his paranoia, he would not kill his own firstborn.

He had not counted that Lyanna’s brother would march upon King’s Landing, nor their father after him. That they would challenge the king, or that his father would extend his notion of protection to Rhaegar when they demanded his head with such perfect malice.

And thus the Warden of the North and his heir had been executed in a fashion that would turn the steeliest of stomachs, and the realm had sundered. The enemy hungered for blood in return for that which had been spilt. Ned Stark for his fallen kin, and his missing sister. Robert Baratheon for the insult of having his betrothed stolen away.

A threat awaits us that is far greater than a mad king, he wanted to shout at the clash of men around him, except that it too would be taken as madness. The darkness that had plagued his dreams for as long as he could remember, death stretching icy fingers across the realm to bring the eternal night.

Only dragons could stave off the threat, and for all that he had thought that he might be the one to waken them, his efforts thus far had been in vain.

And even that failure would not matter if he could not hold back this rebellion.

Rhaegar’s sword arm moved instinctively to parry the blade of the man who had made it through the line of knights defending him, and he struck just as quickly to take advantage of the man’s sloppy guard, blade finding the soft flesh of his gut. He stepped back, letting the body fall backward rather than exhaust energy trying to fling it off the blade himself.

He scanned the battlefield once more. Earlier, he had caught sight of the massive stag antlers that decorated his cousin’s helm, and he knew that he hunted him most hungrily.

We could end it, he and I. Not the war, perhaps, but this battle. A single combat, a single life spent, and thousands spared for it.

It was never that simple, of course, or that clean. Rhaegar had learned that lesson early on. A battle did not end at one particular moment. The killing continued for a time after, even in the most disciplined of armies.

Rhaegar spotted his cousin’s imposing outline first, and then the shadow. The sky was half-filled with clouds, meaning that most of the battlefield before him was shaded from the sun, but atop that shadow came a deeper one, moving across the host of men with far too much speed to be natural.

Rhaegar looked up and stopped breathing for a moment. Above them, a great winged shape, red of scale, circled the battlefield—enormous, its long neck turning to and fro. The sounds of battle seemed to deaden, and it was not merely his hearing. Men lowered their weapons, heads craning upward at a sight no one had seen in centuries.

Rhaegar was staring at the tiny figure he could see on the dragon’s back, a dark shape that grew larger as the dragon came closer. He could swear that he saw the figure’s head lock upon him, and then turn toward the Baratheon host.

The dragon swooped, this time with intent, no longer seeking. Flame erupted from its mouth, a blinding gout of white and red that tore through the opposing army to the sound of screaming.

“Back!” Rhaegar called out, frantically seeking the attention of the knights around him, who began spreading the message. “Disengage!”

His army had already started to move instinctively, and although there was haste to their motion, it was nothing beside the chaos of the Baratheon host. A few pockets of order toward the back of it targeted the dragon with bows, but they were themselves chosen for the dragon’s next pass.

A hand found his arm, and Rhaegar nearly stabbed at it on instinct, before realizing that it was Ser Barristan, and that the knight had the shaft of an arrow embedded in his shoulder. He let the Kingsguard shield him from the stray arrows falling as they fell back.

The dragon continued its assault, even as his cousin’s forces tried to retreat. Stop, he wanted to shout up at it. It is over! But the dragon possessed a fury that could not be quenched. It was not until he saw it make a deep dive and emerge with the shape of a man in a stag’s helm between its teeth, biting down with a great roaring gout of flame, that it seemed to calm at last.

Robert’s men were in full flight, not a Baratheon banner intact. In the distance, he could see a few banners of House Stark still waving, and he prayed that Lyanna’s other brothers had survived the dragon’s fury. My family has already visited so much sorrow upon her.

The beat of the dragon’s wings began to slow, its destination plain: the edge of Rhaegar’s own forces. The men, thankfully recognizing the dragon as an ally, albeit a strange one, did not move as it came to land with a quiet thud on the soft earth near the riverbank.

The figure riding it dismounted, wearing black armor and a winged helm not entirely unlike his own. “Rhaegar!” he called, removing his helmet to reveal long, silver-blond hair like his. “Where is my son?”

All heads seemed to turn to Rhaegar, who stared, unable to comprehend the man’s words. The man followed their gaze, and he broke into a run. Rhaegar had to wave Ser Barristan back as the man neared, and barely had time to brace himself as hands grasped Rhaegar’s own helm to rip it free.

The man who stared into his eyes looked like he could be his father, but not Aerys. In his prime, his father had been a broad-shouldered man of similar height, clean-faced and handsome, but he had never gazed upon Rhaegar with such joy and relief, his eyes a color more like his own than Aerys’s pale lilac.

“Rhaegar,” he breathed, pulling him into a nearly crushing embrace. “What happened? Where is your brother? He is not at the Wall, is he?”

The face of the man’s dragon peeked over his shoulder at Rhaegar, still wrapped up in the embrace, and he raised a hand in wonder that the dragon snuffed before its eyes slitted in approval, as though recognizing kin.

The man pulled back after a moment, and Rhaegar recognized the hilt sheathed at his side from paintings of centuries past. Dark Sister.

He stared at the man once more, utterly mystified, feeling as though he had stepped into a dream. “Who are you?”

[swagging-back-to]

ways to actually save money

stop buying animal products ($10 for a single meal vs $10 for months worth of beans) + benefit of saving planet

use wash cloths for wiping urine + benefit of saving planet.

get a menstrual cup or panties. yes, even if you have a heavy flow.. the chemicals in tampons and pads leads to heavier, more painful, and smellier periods. +benefit of saving planet.

shampoo bars, lasts way longer + benefit of saving planet.

stop buying name brand

stop buying makeup + benefit of saving planet

stop buying nail polish + benefit of saving planet

stop buying synthetic clothes. + benefit of saving planet

reuse (soap free) tub and shower water for plants, laundry. + benefit of saving planet.

hang clothes to dry, even if you don't have an outdoor area. hang in the windows, by fireplaces, by heaters and ac units. + benefit of saving planet

stop buying niche chemical products. for almost every single cleaning situation you only need soap, baking soda, vinegar, rubbing alcohol, and bleach. this goes for gout removal, rust removal, urine removal, window cleaner, sanitizing wipes, literally every single thing. + benefit of saving planet

repurpose old clothes and towels by making them into wash cloths and oven mitts.

stop buying from shein, temu, amazon, and using afterpay. (im not demonizing pay later. i utilize it all the time. I've just found a lot of people who do use these payment methods treat it like a 'buy now, pay NEVER' option and are surprised when it fucks them over)

remember this any time someone tries to tell you being eco friendly isn't affordable.

know what really isnt affordable? buying disposable products every week.

[demonslayedher]

Kimetsu no Yaiba merch and a chance to get nerdy with it? Don’t mind if I do.

Bath time!!

This set of a towel, badge to hang on a bag like one you might take to your local bathhouse, and Swordsmith Village onsen-inspired bath salt was originally sold at the traveling Gotouge gallery, but many of those items were put up for sale again recently at a handful of Shonen Jump stores. I highly enjoyed the very flamboyant bath bomb I got at an Ufotable gallery, so I decided to give it a shot. I like onsen too, and the one in the Swordsmith Village is supposed to be especially nice, right?

In order to be classified as such in the modern Reiwa era, naturally occurring onsen must be at least 25 degrees C when the water emerges from the earth and have a minimum concentration of 1 to 19 certain minerals (amounts per 1kg of water vary depending on the mineral). If they have enough dissolved mineral content to be an onsen but don’t have a particularly high concentration of any mineral, they are classified as simple, low-alkaline onsen. So like, still nice, but harder to brag about. Locals will brag anyway. However, if the water has a high enough concentration of a particular kind of mineral, then it will be classified into different categories. The locals will really brag about these ones and their many health and beauty benefits, and even though there have been studies of some sort, it’s safest to say “purported” benefits. If you want to get nerdy with it, start here.

So anyway, the manga didn’t get that detailed, but, Ufotable wrote this in about the Swordsmith Village onsen: “It can heal anything, like cuts, burns, hemorrhoids and bleeding piles, constipation, gout, broken heart, anything.”

However, this is a product from a manga gallery, and Ufotable did not necessarily influence the making of it. Going by this product (which I’ll bet Gotouge had no influence on the production of), here are some things we might suppose. This particular product is a mix of sodium sulfate, sodium chloride, sodium bicarbonate, sodium carbonate, and sodium thiosulfate. If you’re only bathing in it and not drinking it (and the package says not to drink it), then it purportedly would help with cuts, bruises, burns, skin ailments, dry skin, reducing inflammation, muscle pain, joint pain, sensitivity to the cold, depression, and the ever mysterious “women’s ailments.” If you were to drink clean onsen waters like these, it purportedly could also help with constipation, too.

Although it’s not enough to consider it something your body would absorb any benefit from, there is enough sulfur in this product to give it a fun(ky) smell. Enough of a sulfur smell to make your brain think, “yay, onsen,” without quite enough to think “ew, rotten eggs.” Now, this suggests that the onsen in the Swordsmith Village also has that mineral component, which would also purportedly make it good for treating acne and diabetes. This might also be one of the components that made it hard for Tanjirou to sniff out a secret training weapon.

So like, that covers a lot of the claims Ufotable wrote in. Maybe to cover that gout claim, it’s also carbonated or radioactive. Who knows.

There’s one more thing this product includes: artificial color! For the onsen nerd, there’s a lot more to categorizing onsen than just their mineral content. There’s also how slick or grainy the water feels, how clear or cloudy it is, and what color it appears! Although many are known for being crystal clear, there’s a range of tints, including dramatic ones like reddish-orange, aquamarine, and black. In this case, they merely recreated the effect for fun. With a base of red, yellow, and blue, the powder starts a nice rosy pink when it’s dry in the package, and then---HOLY YORIICHI WHAT IS THAT

That is soooooo not an appealing color, ohhhh my gooooshhhh

Although it all mostly mixes into a yellowish-brownish cloud, there are random bits of magenta or teal or even purple-ish-ness. The tiny specs that wound up on the edges of my bathtub made it look like they chose some strange way to page homage to Mitsuri, Muichiro, and Genya all at once.

Anyway, the color eventually settled to more of a muddy yellow and I got in. The sulfur scent was only enough to be pleasant, the texture was somewhat on the silky side but not dramatically so, and I was healed of all my wounds and ailments. Purportedly.

[canyouhearthelight]

Not the Chosen One, Ch.3: Magically Mundane

A bit more worldbuilding, on a very small practical scale. Don't worry, the cast doesn't get huge like in The Miys. At the same time, a person can't function in society without interacting with people, and in a small town, you interact with the same people all the time. Familiarity is a given. Thanks, as always, to @baelpenrose and @writing-with-olive for being my beta readers on this one. And if you cry a little reading this, don't worry - so do I, and I wrote it.

Trey and I had dragged my trusty wagon about three blocks before he said anything. “How far is the market?”

“About a mile.”

“And you don’t have any other way to get there besides walking?”

I laughed and shook my head at the incredibly normal teenage complaint. “I have a bicycle, but this many blueberries would never survive the trip.  I’d either fall over or they’d get squashed.  Besides, the weather is incredible, and I’m hoping to have enough groceries coming back that I wouldn’t be able to use the bike anyway.”

“And what’s the jar of very heavy, very yucky looking stuff I’m carrying?”

Frowning, I scowled at him. “I’ll have you know that is going to keep us from having to do this again in a couple days.  It’s salve for gout.  I was finishing it up last night when you got to my house.  Mr. Tanner is going to send a few of his workers to pick up the first round of July harvests for me and sell them in his stand.”

Trey stared at the jar in his arms. “This is a lot of salve.”

“Unfortunately, Mr. Tanner has a lot of gout. Poor guy.”

We chatted very sparingly the rest of the way - poor kid wasn’t used to walking so far.  Once we arrived, I made a beeline for Tanner’s Produce.  At the counter, I took the recycled gallon jar and heaved it up.  “One gallon of salve, as promised. Remember to use clean bandages every morning and night, and sleep with your feet elevated, okay?”

The sunburnt older man nodded and scratched his unruly beard. “Couldn’t have come too soon.  Elisa has been washing bandages all week for me.  She sends her love.”

I grinned and grabbed two pints of blueberries from the wagon. “And I send her mine, with these.” Stepping aside, I gestured to the suddenly-shy-again mop of black hair behind me. “And this is my new foster, Trey.  He’s lactose intolerant…?”  When the hair bobbed in a nod, I continued with more confidence. “He’s lactose intolerant, and I’m out of groceries.  So, I present to you the first blueberry crop, a few days early!”

Mr. Tanner couldn’t see all of it over the counter, so he limped around to our side.  With a low whistle, he counted quickly. “That’s fifty pints - you say it’s the first harvest?”

“There’s at least that many again still ripening, so I’ll have quite a lot this year.”

Grumbling kindly, he rubbed his beard in thought.  “I don’t got anything you can’t grow here, but I can give you a hundred for half of it.”

“First crop of the season, wild blueberries? I think you can give me two. That’s eight per pint, and we know you can get ten, easy.  Twelve if you spot a tourist.”

He laughed, a booming sound that startled Trey until he realized it was a joyful one. “Can’t get anything past you, girl. Alright. Two hundred for half, and I’ll add a tip that the egg stand has a new baby in the family.  Those blueberries can surely get you some eggs and a couple pullets.”

With that, we started our procession around the farmer’s market - eggs, a couple loaves of good bread until I could make some with the wheat I’d managed to get.  Butter for me, nut butters for both of us.  I relented and got Trey a bag of venison jerky when I picked up red meats, and soon we were on our way to make the mile trek back.

“Everyone was so nice,” he whispered in awe halfway through the trek.

I nodded and shrugged with one shoulder. “We try to be. Most people try to be.  A lot of those people, I’ve known them or their family my whole life.”  A small ache blossomed in my chest, and I mentally cradled it like a fragile bird.

“All of the people I’ve known my whole life are…. Well, they’re like my parents. They seem nice, but they aren’t, really.  They’d never sneak someone more because they suddenly had another mouth to feed.”

Shit. Kid was perceptive.  “You saw that, huh?”

“Well, I know what a pound of beef looks like, and that was definitely too much.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Yeah, Grayson was a bit overenthusiastic, I’ll admit that. But you get a skinny foster around a bunch of farmers in a small community….” I shrugged at him with a grin.

That managed to earn me a smile. “Your sister should have come with us.  A lot of people asked about her.”

That earned a deep, slow breath.  “Benji doesn’t like people knowing she’s here as often as she is. And the Market reminds her too much of our mom.”

“Everyone asked about her, too,” he pointed out. “But no one asked how she’s doing or anything… Just told you to say hi to her.”

That little sadness fluttered in my chest.  I pulled open the kitchen door and gestured for him to start handing me stuff that needed to go in the refrigerator or freezer.  “We grew up around here.  Small town thing, you’ll see how it is.”

Eventually, everything was put away, and I started some pie filling, as promised. “One sec.”

I came back with a picture frame in my hands, dusting the glass off.  Turning it around, I showed Trey a photo of what was clearly a much younger me and Benji, with a beautiful but tired woman grinning between us.  “Trey, meet Mom.  Mom, this is Trey.  He’s staying here for now.”

Trey looked at a loss for words.  When I insisted, he carefully took the picture from me.  “She passed away not long after that photo was taken.  I think it was maybe six months?”

“Was she a witch, too?”

I nodded, breathing slowly.  After so long, I didn’t cry talking about her anymore, but sometimes my throat still got tight.  “Really minor clairvoyant.  Not enough to get certified, but she could always tell what the weather would be or what meal you needed - not wanted, needed.  Knew when someone had a bad day, or when to treat someone on a good one.  She was a waitress,” I added.  “Really great one.  Everyone loved her.”

“I’m sorry she’s gone. She sounds really nice.”

“She would have loved you.” I realized what I had said and laughed brittly. “She loved everyone, really.  Cared a lot.  Definitely got that from her.”

“She must’ve been really proud of you…”  He looked down at the table, sadness in his voice.

I reached out and squeezed his arm gently. “She would have been proud of me no matter what I did.  That’s how parents should always be.”  I didn’t ask about his - it was too obvious in his tone.

Letting the moment sit for just a few seconds, I patted his arm and stood up. “Come on. Time for you to learn to make pie crust.  If you like pie, it’s practically a crime not to know how to make it so you can have it whenever you want.”

Trey sniffed and nodded. “Right. Pie.”

I hummed and grabbed the shortening. “I think Mom would want you to have pie,” I nodded.

[colorfulhideouttaco]

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[forestshadow-wolf]

Soap having trouble listening to authority especially if it unnecessarily put lives at risk

Except for ghost, who thinks soap is an excellent who never talks back and always follows orders. Ghost gets confused when another lieutenant says soap was hell to command bc he never listened. And then another time he sees soap back talking another captain, he's not sure what it's about but it's clear that soap is arguing.

Ghost is taken aback by this because never once has he seen soap be this rude and down right disrespectful. He supposes it's fair, soap's been in the military for over a decade and he's only known him for a fraction of that time. But still it's been years since he met soap, and he's never seen soap raise his voice against price, much less himself.

Soap himself does not have a problem with authority. He has a problem with poor authority that will cost people their lives. He's always had a strong sense of justice, even as a kid, and it only grew as he got older. He got in trouble with teachers and eventually cops a lot before he joined the military.

His first lieutenant when he just gout out of boot camp had no problems sending soldiers to dies, as long as the mission was completed. Soap was not a fan. And he didn't hide it. Infact he was very loud about it.

He got sent back to boot three (3) times before they just let him move up the ranks. They had no real grounds to discharge him, and he was a damned good soldier; always top of his class even in his first round of boot. He did eventually learn to pick some of his battles, like if it was a direct order from a general or higher, those couldn't be changed. But Sergents, lieutenants, and captains were fair game for him, even if it was a different squad.

On the topic of price and ghost, well he never had a problem with them, not really anyway. Price valued the life of his men over the success of the mission, and that earned more respect from him than a thousand success missions could have. And ghost, sure he's mission driven, but he doesn't devalue the life of his men.

And sure soap has given counter suggestions on mission planning, but it's always with the best interest in mind and never without backup to support. And sure there have been disagreements, but never out right arguing, or disrespect. Plus he figures price asked for him specifically, by name, even with his "anti-authority" reputation. So he figures if price wasn't open to listening to him he would have asked for him.

Gaz wasn't too surprised, if only because he'd met Soap in passing in the field once or twice. He'd heard how soap had gotten his callsign, being able to clear a room and take down multiple hostiles with quick efficiency. Be he does wonder if it was actually for trying to clean up a captain's act as a private, or maybe having to clean up his own act. All the times he'd met soap before the 141 he'd always known the man to be steamy and hot headed, often getting into fights with his SOs or hell even his fellow Sergents.

But it isn't soap's fault. Really! Trust! See, because every time his SOs or the other sergents made a bad call, and he had to follow orders. And he lost soldiers who didn't have to die? Then that was on him for not speaking up. Their blood was on his hands for not using his voice when he could. And trust him, he's got plenty of blood on his hands, some his fault, some his direct decisions, some because he wouldn't dump it on his privates like his superiors did to him.

Soap has had to lead too many bright eyed soldiers into danger, on a plan that was held together on hash threads and hope, and had to tell them that they'd all get their recognition knowing still that not all of them would make it. He used to go against direct orders, even as a private. It got so bad that he was threatened with dishonorable dischatge on account of going awol and a slew of other things. And had it not been for his family, he wouldn't have cared. Not that his honor didn't mean anything, just that it meant less than peoples' lives, but of course his family always came first before anything else, so he stopped.

Well stopped blatantly going against direct orders. Didn't stop the arguing, got smarter in how he disobeyed, left his position when he had even the barest hint of a valid excuse, started doing little things to make life just a little bit harder. Because he doesn't think that you should just be able to have an easy life of you can knowingly send people off to die without a second thought.

[skincareroutine]

zillow comment section that could solve housing crisis

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[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

Still Alive! And you would not believe what I just went through...

So just after the last post I made or reblogged, my computer stopped connecting to the internet. Wasn't the vpn. Restarted. wasn't that. Couldn't release or renew the fucking ip because it's disconnected. After allowing the troubleshooter to turn on services I had explicitly shut off, it "couldn't find a problem".

It took finding where windows 10 hides things to see the network was claiming the cable was disconnected.

The cable was not disconnected and the wifi was working fine on my phone so -I assumed- the modem was fine and there was no outage.

I use old cords, so -body still very broken- I dig out another cord from my boxes [blue and not yellow], it changed nothing.

I have had network cards/adapters fry before.

Do you know they used to be a separate card you could swap out? Like your graphics card? When they fried? So you didn't have to replace your whole fucking motherboard? I miss that. We should go back to that.

.

.

.

Sop there's things being reset in the command promt, there's previous drivers gone back to, there's shit reset, restarted 5 times and it took forever.

Nothing.

I gave up, I clearly needed a new motherboard.

I had already taken extra advil and tore apart half my room so I could get into my computer properly and cleaned my whole desk area in the process. Hours of pain and cleaning and frustration.

Meanwhile I am looking up on my phone what the fucking deal could be about me still having gout this bad since I am pretty sure my kidneys aren't suddenly just dead entirely, and the extra uric acid should have been gone by now. Like gout should not at this point be my main and only symptom of kidneys suddenly just up and progressing to stage 5 failure.

Turns out, with some very pointed and specifically worded questions, you can get the internet to spit out that -actually- low salt diets can make your uric acid levels high.

Turns out your body needs salt to process purines and uric acid out...

Turns out that telling me that salt is the devil and should be avoided at all costs was maybe keeping me from getting better and that what triggered this whole problem was -maybe- that lately I had suddenly been eating barely any salt because my blood pressure wasn't low.

Turns out being a man is a risk factor for gout, and the the sudden hormonal shift that ate my breast tumours and changed my nose shape might have also made me more prone to gout.

Leaving gout untreated is ALSO bad for your kidneys and leaving some big autoimmune inflammation attack unchecked is maybe also bad for your kidneys...

Because I was at this point suspecting that some kind of elaborate autoimmune flareup had been triggered by gout and now my body was just continuing to attack the existing damage in my joints. That would be in character for my stupid immune system.

And I might be able to recover now and my kidneys might not be as bad as I thought...

But I gave up on my computer's network adapter because clearly the internet was working and it was a hardware issue.

I was trying to download discord on my phone so I could let my friend know I wasn't dead but couldn't use the internet because I don't use most apps/sites on my phone...

And my phone now wasn't finding anything because when I had moved my computer back up onto my desk- literally a couple minutes before- it had unplugged the modem.

Easy fix, plug it back in.

Internet is working on my phone again, which was not the problem.

Look up.

Internet is working on my COMPUTER again.

Modem was -for some reason- randomly refusing to communicate with any of the Ethernet ports, through any cord, despite that it was still pumping out wifi just fine, and all indicator lights showed that the internet should be working fine.

Somehow.

For reasons.

And unplugging it completely for like 5 minutes fixed it.

So I don't have to start replacing half my computer parts just yet [graphics card is still old and 2-3rd hand]...

And I have internet.

And since I have eaten an amount of salt, my body has gone back to processing fluids at the expected rate. [maybe explains me dreaming about salty snacks]...

So with any luck, over the next week, I can actually bounce back to all around functional.

And my internet works.

And now my desk is clean I GUESS.

And my neighbours threw out this big expensive monitor after x-mas, so i grabbed it off the street figuring it probably still worked if they only threw it out after getting a new one. So with any luck I can have two displays now [it needs to dry out and I need to find cables]...

-_-

I'm still feeling kind of furious and exhausted because "tech won't work and I can't figure out why and it means I can't contact anyone" happening at the same time as "All of my shelves are falling over and all my stuff is falling behind my desk and it's too crowded to work with anything like this" happening at the same time as "All of my joints are terribly injured and I don't have the -anything- to lift, move or reach anything" Is a literal hell on earth constructed by real demons and autism moonlighting as one.

But also they threw out a very fancy and very heavy metal lamp, and even if that's busted to fuck I can fix lamps easy... [I did not need another lamp but it was put out on my doorstep and it's fancy]

[otteroflore]

Today my dad's partner is going in for surgery

They will be removing a part of her stomach and pancrease and reattaching them something like this per wikipedia:

The surgeon will have to examine the liver and other organs to see if there was any spread, in which case they probably will not continue if the cancer has spread a lot. The likelihood of that is something like 15%.

Pancreatic cancer has one of the lowest likelihoods of being cured. The surgery takes a long time and is extremely invasive and the patient needs lifelong medical treatment afterwards.

Dawn and I went to the Costco gas station yesterday and she paid for my car to be filled up (its cheaper than other gas stations) and she insisted on paying me for the cleaning I did yesterday. She always just says she wants this to be over with and always seems in pretty high spirits. She told me after this is all over she will have a talk with my dad about him being rude to me recently.

My dad has a friend from out of town over to be with him for a while. Very helpful because his gout has made it difficult for him to walk. He needs to stay off his feet but is VERY BAD at it and it makes him rude and callous towards us.

Anyways. Weird day. weird. day. dawns surgery isn't until the afternoon, so I wont hear anything until then.

[eluvisen]

Truce

Fandom: Baldur’s Gate 3

Characters: Karlach/Tav

Rating: T

Summary: It may or may not be a mistake falling in with these lunatics, but at least they look like fun. And one of them in particular looks like fun.

(Karlach’s first night in camp, as told by her.)

Notes: Written for Femslash February 2024. Prompt: once upon a time.

—

Wreathed in smoke and infernal fire, Karlach laughs as the tollhouse burns. Gouts of fire tower on all sides, devouring everything in their path and scorching her throat with every breath. But the inferno is fucking nothing compared to the hellfire inside her. The engine shudders behind her ribs, its vibrations ribboning down her torso and all the way through her guts, so hot and furious it feels like someone poured the magma from one of Avernus’s volcanoes directly into her chest.

With several swings of her axe and a swift kick, she bashes through the debris blocking the door. But past the shower of cinders and ash, the sky is blue. The sky is blue, and when she steps outside, the air is clean.

To her surprise, that gang of adventurers are waiting around. Away from the flames, mind, but waiting.

Karlach strides over, greataxe resting on her shoulder. The metal burns, but she burns hotter. “Hope you didn’t take much of a scorching in there. I had to let off some steam after facing those imp-fuckers.”

The engine thunders in her chest, feeling like a burr made of lava that she can’t cough out. Bloody thing isn’t cooling down. Seems it isn’t made to work outside Avernus, which means she needs to find an infernal mechanic. Fast. 

The rogue smiles at her without showing his teeth. “Only mild burns and the immediate threat of immolation, darling.” There’s something about him that makes her want to keep him in sight at all times, and not just for the safety of her coin purse. He isn’t infernal, she can tell that much. Maybe it’s his hair putting her off. “I don’t suppose you’ll reimburse us for spilling their guts on your behalf?”

Karlach snorts. “You didn’t kill them for me, you killed them with me. And I’m afraid I left my soul coins in Avernus. Could give you a hug if you wanted, though.”

His smile twists into something darker. “What a pity. I hear soul coins are especially valuable currency, and this isn’t a charity.”

“Strange,” says the walking fringe. She stays at the edges like a regular cleric, but there’s something… tricky about her. Yeah, that’s the word. Tricky. “I thought we were a charity. Why else would you be here, Astarion?”

Rhodeia, meanwhile, wears the perfectly pleasant expression of someone who’s mentally screaming into the Abyss. Making firm eye contact with Karlach, she says, “Since we all need a cure for these mind flayer parasites, you’re welcome to come with us.”

The rest of the party look just as loony. The githyanki undoubtedly draws eyes, and it’s a tossup whether her bloody huge greatsword or her scowl is the scarier weapon in her arsenal. Then there’s good man Gale. If he couldn’t conjure such a wicked scorching ray, she’d assume he’s a lost librarian. Or maybe libraries are more interesting places than she thought. At least the Blade of Frontiers is pointing his namesake elsewhere, although he sure doesn’t look pleased by current events. She’ll have to keep an eye on him. 

All in all? A group of miserable, argumentative misfits.

Gods, to be one of them.

Karlach opens her mouth. Hesitates. “There’s no contract, is there?”

“No,” Rhodeia answers, so perfectly startled that either she means it or she could give Flo a run for her coins. 

“Then fuck yes I’m in.”

Rhodeia smiles, and her expression is brilliantly, unnervingly genuine-looking. She has to be a half-elf—she’s got the ears, but her features are just a little too blunt to be a timeless beauty. Not to say she isn’t a looker, with freckles dusting her light brown skin and plump lips. In the sunlight, Karlach notices for the first time that Rhodeia’s eyes are a dusty mauve, as pretty as cut gems—definitely inherited those from the elven parent—and matching the hair falling down her back in intricate braids. Pale tattooed vines frame her face and curl invitingly down her neck to the collar of her leathers, raising the question of just how far they go down, exactly.

But that is a question best left uncontemplated for now. Karlach hangs her greataxe on her back and sweeps an arm at the road before them. “Let’s move, eh? Time’s wasting.”

When the party sets off, Karlach falls in with them. Behind her, the tollhouse burns.

[Read on AO3]