#acid in liquid soap

[medicines1122]

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Buy LSD Liquid Online diethylamide, also known as acid, is a psychedelic drug known for its psychological effects. LSD stands for lysergic acid diethylamide. It is an illegal street drug that comes as a white powder or clear colorless liquid. It is available in powder, liquid, tablet, or capsule form.  it is one of the most potent, mood-changing chemicals.

It is manufacture from lysergic acid, which is find in the ergot fungus that grows on rye and other grains.It is produce in crystal form in illegal laboratories, mainly in the United States. These crystals are convert to a liquid for distribution. It is odorless, colorless, and has a slightly bitter taste. Street names for LSD include acid, blotter, blotter acid, blue cheer, electric Kool-Aid, hits, Lucy in the sky with diamonds, mellow yellow, microdots, purple haze, sugar cubes, sunshine tabs, and window pane.

Harmful Effects of LSD

LSD can harm the body in different ways and lead to health problems such as:

Increased heart rate, blood pressure, breathing rate, and body temperature

Sleeplessness, loss of appetite, tremors, sweating

Mental problems, including anxiety, depression, schizophrenia

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[chaoticwitchgrimoire]

Ways to use magickal oils: for witches and non-witches

In your beauty routine:

Depending on the carrier oil, spell oils can be a great addition to skin care and hair care! Some carrier oils provide a lot of skin and hair benefits.

Castor oil contains triglycerides, which help maintain moisture in the skin. This can help with dry skin. Castor oil can also be applied generously as a hair mask and wash off, or apply very liberally to the ends of hair to help with frizz. This is depending on hair type.

Grapeseed oil is an effective treatment to decrease split ends. On the skin, grapeseed oil can help with breakouts, treat dry skin, and gently fade some scars. It’s also non-comedogenic meaning it won’t clog pores. This could be a good option for someone with oily skin.

Sweet almond oil has a lot of vitamins, minerals, fatty acids, and antioxidants that can sooth both the skin and hair. It can help approve the appearance of dry and irritated skin.

Jojoba oil is anti-inflammatory and can reduce redness, help with chaffing, and keep skin calm. For hair, it can strengthen hair strands and reduce hair porosity buildup. It is both antifungal and antibacterial.

Sunflower seed oil can make hair shiny and strong. It can help tame frizz as well as treat dandruff. When used on the skin, it can help skin retain moisture.

*Always be wary of your skin sensitivities and allergies when buying or making your own oil blends.

Ways to use them in your beauty routine:

Add a few drops to your bath for aromatherapy.

Mix a few drops into your liquid soap (great for cleansing and/or protection!)

Mix a few drops in your palm with your favorite lotion. Rub it into your skin while saying affirmations.

Deposit a few drops through your hair while damp.

Dab it on your pressure points to use as perfume.

If you make soap, add a few drops into your soap for a magickal boost.

In your cooking:

Some carrier oils can be great to cook with! *Make sure not to add essential oils to these blends and use food safe herbs. You’re responsible for your own allergens.

Olive oil is already a pantry staple for many people. Try making an oil blend steeping your favorite kitchen herbs and spices in olive oil to use in your cooking.

Avocado oil is another great oil you can do this with if you prefer.

Coconut oil is solid at room temperature, but that doesn’t mean you can’t use it as an oil blend. Heat up the amount you want in a pot and add your herbs. Keep the heat low to infuse your herbs then place into a jar to solidify.

In magick:

Oils are super versatile and they’re a staple for many witches. The most common way they’re used is to anoint candles for spells and rituals. This can even go as far as anointing deity candles as an offering.

They can also be used to anoint objects. By taking a small amount of oil and rubbing it onto an object, you can add energy and charm it with your intention. This works for talismans as well.

You can also anoint yourself! Certain points on the body can be anointed depending on your intention. Anoint your throat with a confidence oil before giving a presentation to aid in communication; anoint your forehead with a psychic oil to aid in divination; anoint your pressure points with a love oil to draw someone in.

The possibilities are endless.

[pinkfluffacttuff]

Speculative Vampire Biology Headcanons

Hey y'all! I'm still foundering over Queen of the Night 2, so please accept this lore dump as my humble offering. These are just my interpretations and added world building for my AU. Please don't take these too seriously!

Vampires are cold blooded. The ability to produce body heat is a gift only living creatures can possess. This makes unlife a delicate balancing act. Sunlight kills, and nights get cold. The spring, summer and early autumn nights are the best times for midians, and their religious events revolve around the changing seasons. Blood (and blood magic) freezes just like any other liquid. Dangerous ice crystals will form in the bloodstream and slowly damage the heart, thus killing the vampire just as effectively as a good stake. (Think of it like losing one hit point every few minutes.) To combat this, vampires will enter a semi-conscious state of torpor. Their hearts will stop beating and their metabolisms slow to a near halt. Of course, torpor isn't hibernation. You have to know where your enemies are, after all. Winter turns the hungry undead into opportunistic predators, killing whatever wanders too close to their resting places. Most midian cultures recognize winter solstice as the halfway mark of torpor season, and gregarious cultures will usually celebrate with food and drink for the longest night of the year before going back to sleep. Vampires are more often than not solitary, but will still wake a handful of times to feed themselves so they don't starve. Keep your vampires warm and dry!

Super-senses are a pain in the ass. Part of this one is me projecting hard, but hypersensitivity would be a colossal drag. Loud noises, flashing lights, and strong smells would be extremely off-putting for a fine-tuned predator. Vampires toting firearms is rare. Alucard is able to handle it because most of his powers are sealed away. He learned to keep his nerves dulled after years of experimentation, so while he can feel pressure, he cannot feel the pain of getting dismembered, changes in temperature, or getting delicately touched without consciously lowering his guard. (The man needs a lot of TLC. Hug the vamp.) Seras has to learn what her limits are the hard way. Flashing lights and the scent of garlic give her migraines. Sheets have to be smooth and silky or they irritate her skin. Her showers have to be a specific temperature or she throws off her delicate homeostasis, and soap has to be for sensitive skin. It's hard to be itchy when you suddenly have claws. Dog whistles and wool clothes are low-effort torture. The sensitivity isn't limited to physical stimuli, but holy ones too. Silver on bare skin feels like getting electrocuted. Holy water is like molten acid. Hearing scripture quoted makes their heads pound. Be gentle with your vampires!

No bathroom breaks. This only applies to vampires in this AU. Because their diets are limited to liquids only, vampire digestion is weird. A lot of their human organs are no longer needed and shrivel up inside them. They use blood magic for everything, from regrowing body parts to blinking their eyes. Once all the magic potential is drained from a drop of blood, it's excreted as sweat. Another cursed fact: since solids are indigestible, swallowed flesh and bone must be expunged like owl pellets. It's unsightly and considered bad manners to do this in front of other vampires. Normal feeding aftermath looks like an anemic corpse. A very, very hungry vampire's prey looks more like a shriveled, fleshy prune. A tarantula bolus is the most apt comparison. Efficiency was key when Andras redesigned humans into vampires, so yes, even their sweat is useful to them. All vampire magic and blood smells uniquely like the vampire it's sourced from, blood sweat included. This means clothes, possessions, lairs, and even loved ones will smell like the vampire that claims them. Pheromones are also dispersed through sweat, and can convey intent. (Part of being a Night Queen means Seras' powers are exponentially stronger than a regular midian's. Her pheromones in QotN can be picked up hundreds of kilometers away and are strong enough that humans can smell them. This is not normal.) If a vampire is touchy with you, you belong to them. Mated pairs are practically joined at the hip when they can be together, taking comfort in their combined scents. Unfortunately, because the byproducts of vampire biology and magic are still made of human blood, they are considered a biohazard and can spread disease to living humans. All of the Manor's blood bags have to be disposed of like medical waste. The vampires have their own blood storage fridge. In the 30-year gap, tidying Seras' room required servants to wear disposable gloves, and vacuuming requires a respirator.

4. Posturing.

These dorks are cat-coded. They sleep in boxes and can't swim, ffs. Vampires can manipulate their clothing to make themselves more intimidating. It appears as if capes, long coats, dresses, and draping fabric will sway in a breeze no one else can feel, but the breeze is just blood magic channeled into their outfits. Alucard uses this flex excessively.

This behavior falls into one of three categories:

a. Tarantula threat pose- the vampire is displaying their power against smaller enemies. Fangs are out, capes are flapping, and there's usually hissing involved.

b. Halloween cat- The vampire is posturing for an adversary. Hair will usually join the magical breeze. Jaws will snap and claws will grow out. If it's a 1v1 fight, the pair often caterwaul alongside issuing threats.

c. Peacock's tail- If the vampire's powers are flexed outside of an imminent fight, it's often a courtship display. You want a partner that's physically capable of defending you, after all. If Alucard's feeling flirtatious, he'll probably be shapeshifting, fighting with his hands, or bringing back prey for his beloved to eat.

While tendrils are common, growing hands and eyes out of them is not. It requires a lot of concentration to make so many fingers move naturally. Forming dozens of eyes is easy, but using them to see is even more challenging than extra hands. More than that--eyes are a redundancy when you have a mystical third eye at your disposal. It's a power play, and Alucard is all about showing off.

5. Effects on humans

Living with a vampire has its drawbacks. For example, telepathy is migraine inducing. Unless you're a thrall, it's gonna hurt any time a stranger shoves their thoughts into your brain.

If said vampire has claimed the structure you share, the walls are full of tendrils as a way to mark their territory. This is conducive to the feeling of being watched, even if the vampire isn't paying attention. The hypervigilance this feeling creates in humans leads to fatigue, paranoia, and insomnia. Whether these symptoms are part of a psychosomatic response or caused by someone's literal lifeforce being drained unintentionally is unclear.

As a side note: You never want to invite a vampire inside unless you have a death wish. Outside of your dehydrated demise, you would also be handing over all the natural shadows in your house for the vampire to manipulate to their liking. It's basically handing over your head and a power up on a silver platter.

As stated above, vampires mark their territory with blood magic and sweat. If that vampire were inclined to protect you, thrall or not, you would be marked. If any regular platoon were to march into midian territory, they would be gutted on the spot. Because Hellsing troops have a hint of Seras' scent on them, they can get much closer to midian settlements before the locals become agitated.

Every human that stays within the manor walls must undergo thorough physicals bimonthly to check for blood-borne illnesses. Normally a vampire can sniff this out, but Integra is a stickler for record keeping. If any illnesses are found, the soldier is either honorably discharged or transferred to another branch of the military.

New recruits can choose to have a "V-DNR" on their record if they don't want Seras to heal them in battle. Those that allow her to do so reap some rewards, but the consequences of this are still unknown...

And there you have it! This is a sample of the kind of stuff that I keep in my "lore dump" document. I'm happy to share more at some point.

Thoughts and constructive criticism are appreciated.

[softagenda]

silver linings (leander)

leander x reader(f)

clothes sharing/boyfriend shirt trope / leander thirsting

originally posted on ao3

masterlist

Preview

Leander taps his thumb against his glass, staring into the amber liquid. “A rare catch requires good bait, timing, and most of all: patience,” he murmurs.

Thinking of you in his rooms: naked, those long limbs and lithe muscles submerged beneath the hot water, your hands stroking his soap along your skin, your hair wet and draped around your shoulders, clean and soft and smelling of his herbs and oils…

He’s an excellent fisherman, but at this moment, he finds his patience tested to the limits.

________________________________

“See, this wouldn’t be near as irritating if you hadn’t moved out.”

Lingering on the threshold of the Wick, sopping wet with sticky, putrid slime, you shoot him a withering glare. “Watch it. Haven’t cleaned my sword yet.”

Grinning cheekily, Leander lifts his hands in surrender, his sculpted arms bunching beneath the skin tight mesh of his shirt. “Just sayin’.” His coat folded over his arm and boots sticking, he walks to the bar and speaks to the bartender. 

You debate making the trek back to your flat on three streets over. Your skin burns where the rank slime seeps through your clothing, exuding a thin, sulfuric gas that twists your stomach. The thought of walking through the city like that fills you with nausea and dread. “That dingonek would’ve gutted you from ass to chin. See if I step in next time.”

“For which I’m, as always, eternally grateful,” Leander cuts in smoothly, leaning against the bar and looking you over. “I think this every time we head into battle, but it continues to ring true. Your swordwork is certainly… something to behold.”

It’s another mark against the cruelty of the universe that, despite holding fast barely a foot from you, Leander had managed to leave the fight without a single scratch on him - he hadn’t ducked under the neck of the furious, armored reptile, piercing the hide of the throat and thus getting caught in the spray of acidic bile as the blade tore through its venom glands.

No, he walked away with the lightest sheen of sweat on his chiseled jaw and thick neck, windswept from the rush of the battle, towing a highly sought-after pelt of massive lizard monster back to Eridia like some heroic warrior - and he has the audacity to quip and smolder at you.

You level him an unimpressed look.

He lifts a gloved hand and spins the golden key around his finger. “My doors always open to you, of course.”

And every other simpering fan in the place , you think wryly, before snatching the key out of his hand. “I’m gonna use all those fancy soaps and oils you’ve got in there. Always wanted to smell like the lovechild of an apothecary and a brothel.”

Leander swallows once, his mouth hanging open for a moment twisting into a smirk. “Help yourself.”

“Gonna steal your clothes too.” The venom had eaten away at the fibers of your pants and shirt - there’d be no salvaging them. You pause, gripping the key and checking his expression for permission. Leander’s notoriously generous, to a fault, even - despite that, you still try not to take more than you give back.

Inscrutable, emerald eyes flash bright for a heartbeat before glancing away. His tongue darts out to swipe across his lower lip before his hand taps on the bar, signaling a request for his usual shot of whiskey. In moments, Rodrick slides a glass across the polished surface, placing the drink perfectly in his waiting palm. 

Leander takes a quick drink before meeting your gaze again. Though the flare of magic had withdrawn, a dark edge still lingers in his eyes.

“Be my guest.” His jaw clenches, a vein jumping along the hard edge, but he smiles like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. “I insist, even.”

You pause and narrow your gaze. That’s a little….suspicious. “Now I don’t want to,” you mutter, grimacing as that lying smile breaks into laughter.

“I’m afraid Rod here might insist too,” Leander adds, dispelling the strange tension and running a hand through his hair. “The smell alone will send customers running to the wastelands.”

One such customer stumbles to the back alley exit a few steps from the bar and just barely opens it in time for the torrent of vomit that spews from his mouth.

You stare for a moment before turning back to Leander, whose eyes are now full of mirth.

“Well, I’d hate to put off the fine, noble patrons of this tasteful establishment.” With a roll of your eyes, you stride off toward the interior of the inn toward the suite at the end of the hall, ignoring the weight of his gaze on your back.

A door with a familiar crest stands at the end of the hall and opened to a set of comfortable, homey rooms. Gorgeous oak furnishings carry the varied goods and knicknacks that comprise Leander’s existence: leather bound journals on the desk alongside bottles and ink pens, a trunk propped open with the hilt of a sword, a floor length mirror in the corner half-covered with another coat, a dresser with cologne and books stacked on top. More books are heaped on his bedside tables and tucked under in neat columns. Soft, green blankets cover the bed, matching the curtains drifting beside a cracked window.

You pause on the threshold before carefully stepping out of your boots and leaving them in the hall to keep from tracking the slime inside. You drop your coat on top for good measure and step inside on bare feet. 

The archway to the bathroom is tucked in the corner. You tiptoe toward it, conscious of the putrid slime clinging to your clothes and hair before finally reaching the tile floor. The fey lamps alight when you step inside, casting the room in a golden glow. 

After twisting the knobs on the massive claw-foot tub, water barrels through the pipes and steam fills the bathroom. 

You crack the window to let it escape and then strip down, mourning the loss of the clothes. The shirt you can handle the sacrifice - the pants are - were - a favorite. 

In the mirror over the sink, you check the damage to your hair. Congealed blood and drying monster venom sticks your hair in clumps. It’ll be a bitch to wash out. Bottles of various shapes and colors gather on two shelves around the vanity. You read a couple labels before finding a cleansing solution with rosemary, sage, and detoxifying oil. It’ll have to do.

Sighing, you decide to focus on getting the worst of it out now and finishing the job at home after a meal and a tall pint of beer. 

“Still out here, huh.”

Leander’s brow lifts pointedly, eyeing Rodrick over the rim of his glass. 

“Well, it’s been half a wick. Usually you’d have slipped into the hall by now, not to be seen again until dawn.” He’s wiping a clean glass down with a rag, hip braced on the back counter during a lull in drink orders. His mustache twitches below a knowing gaze.

“Not this time,” he answers simply.

“Oh?” Rod inspects him before nodding slowly. “Oh… I see. Playing the long game? That’s rare for you.”

Leander taps his thumb against his glass, staring into the amber liquid. “A rare catch requires good bait, timing, and most of all: patience,” he murmurs.

Thinking of you in his rooms: naked, those long limbs and lithe muscles submerged beneath the hot water, your hands stroking his soap along your skin, your hair wet and draped around your shoulders, clean and soft and smelling of his herbs and oils… 

He’s an excellent fisherman, but at this moment, he finds his patience tested to the limits. 

What a catch you are. All slick and smooth and tempting. A siren. 

He thinks of your bare body rising from the ocean, water trailing in rivers down your skin, dripping from your hair, opening that hot little mouth to reveal sharp teeth and a massive tail drifting in the deep, hooking claws into his flesh to drag him down, all that sharp, deadly beauty….

What a way to die.

Leander lifts the glass and tips the rest of the whiskey down his throat in a burning, sweet rush. Then he shakes his head and runs his hands through his hair, wiping them down his face for good measure, and when he opens his eyes again it’s to find a fresh glass waiting in front of him.

“Good man.”

“Patience should be rewarded,” Rodrick quips back before glancing above his shoulder for a moment. A smirk hides beneath his bristly mustache. “Seems the night has proven very rewarding for you indeed, hound.”

Leander follows his gaze. The glass lands on the counter with a thunk .

Gonna steal your clothes too . 

You’d warned him. He’d known. He thought he was prepared.

You’re striding toward the bar, your hair still damp and sticking to your face and shoulders. Skin flushed and dewy from the bath, you look so - unguarded - so much more vulnerable without your armor and cloak, sword strapped to your hip, the gloves over your hands. That sight alone would have stolen his breath, but oh ….

You’re wearing his shirt. 

The black mesh that once molded over his body now hangs loose on you, the fabric draping over your hips and hovering at mid-thigh. The neckline gapes open too, exposing the ridges of your collar bones, a tantalizing view of your neck and chest. You’d even nicked one of his leather jackets - the midnight leather swallowing you up so completely that you’re rolling the ends of the sleeves up to find your hands. 

Rodrick clears his throat nearby.

Leander’s jaw snaps shut. His mouth is dry.

Not prepared. Not prepared at all .

“Hey,” you greet them, and a cloud of distinctly familiar smells infuses the air. 

Herbs. Mint. Rosemary. Leather. A hint of his cologne that lingers on all his clothes.

Ye Olde gods, have mercy on this sinner .

A strange, garbled sound escapes his mouth before he wrestles back control of his body. “Drink?” he asks, desperately ignoring how breathless his own voice sounds. “My treat.”

You don’t seem to notice. To Rodrick, you say, “I’ll have what he’s having.” 

This close, he can see a drop of water coalescing behind your ear and trailing down your neck, journeying down warm flesh until it wicks into the shirt collar.

You turn toward him. Leander wrenches his gaze up.

“Think the punctured venom glands will depreciate the carcass’s value?”

“What? Oh. Probably, but not by much.” He clears his throat, tries to look anywhere else for a moment, before his gaze is inevitably drawn back to the way his shirt clings to your front, dipping between the valley of your chest, the full shapely mounds tucked behind the wings of his jacket. 

He’s never going to wear that jacket again without thinking of you.

“The other set of glands was intact. If it’s a problem, we’ll just sell it to Kuras. He’s always in the market for monster venom.” He dropped more of his weight on the counter, leaning a little closer to you. 

“I’ll take over negotiating in that case. Kuras run’s circles around you at the bartering table.”

Leander laughs, hears the strained quality of his own voice, and quickly stops. “What can I say, the good doctor can be very persuasive. Think you can do better?” 

Your mouth curls into a smirk, mischief alight in those dark eyes, your face framed by the damp strands of your hair, all wrapped up in his clothes, his scent, and his brain grinds to a halt. 

Tilting your head, you say in a low voice, “I know I can.”

Leander looks at you and believes it. If this vision stood opposite him in the market, he’d fold like a palace of cheap cards in a hurricane.

Rodrick returns and hands you a glass of whiskey. He pauses behind the counter as you tip it back and swallow it all down, then asks, “Another?”

“In a bit. I’m gonna head back to my place and get dressed.”

Snapping out of a sudden, intense fantasy of licking trails of whiskey off your neck, Leander sits up. “Right now?” He flicks a look over you, heat licking his insides. 

“Mm. I’m not about to sit on those stools like this.”

Like this ? He glances down. Thin chausses meant to prevent chafing from armor hide away your skin. It’d be a little cold, perhaps - he could offer to warm you up personally if that was the problem - but it’s not that unusual for hunters to wear them in place of everyday pants.

You notice the confusion and, to his surprise and delight, blush . “Back in half a wick. You’re buying dinner. Steak.”

With that, you stalk off into the pub, draped in his jacket, as his hounds and other patrons part ways around you.

“Sure, happy to…oblige….” he trails off, leaning off the stool to keep you in sight as long as possible, before the front door closes on your shadow. “Steaks on the menu tonight, Rodrick?”

“It is now. Make peace with your coin purse.” 

Leander slowly turns back around and looks at the empty glass. I’m not about to sit on those stools like this . But you were wearing pants, however thin, so… 

He slowly lifts his head as the realization slams into him like a runaway carriage.

You have no underwear on.

_____________________________________________

a/n: comments and likes appreciated!

[konigsblog]

AHH i love the yandere task force 14a so much 😭💞

Is it okey if i request yandere task force and könig and alejandro with a darling whose family member is mentally abusive towards their darling and how they will deal with them

YANDEREE TF141 + könig, alejandro with a reader whose family is mentally abusive to them...

WARNINGS: arson, murder, kidnapping, yandere behaviour, obsessive behaviour, very breif mention of suicide, description of gore, mention of emotion abuse: : i do not condone any yandere behaviour, all of this is fiction.

masterlist

ghost who would encourage you to tell him more, demanding. from the name-calling, victim blaming and screaming matches that lasted hours. anger filled his veins, his knuckles turned white as he clenched his first with rage. honestly, you could practically see smoke coming from his ears at one point.

he'd ruffle your hair, smiling at you. "love, please go upstairs." his voice was laced with a fake-smile as you complied with his order.

simon reached for his boots, tugging them on in a rush before taking his jacket along with a pistol. the fact that anyone hurt their darling like this, emotionally ridiculed them and humiliated them made his blood boil.

hard footsteps were pressed against the cold concrete. once he left his car, he walked up the familiar steps, - the same way he did it when kidnapping you.

if you listened closely, you could hear the sobbing of your mum. it was often she cried over you, regretting all her words, and anger that she placed on your shoulders. only for her to guilt trip you into letting her wipe your tears away. now that was replaced by simon, simon who actually cared and made sure that their darling was actually loved and cared for.

he walked to the back of the house, there sat your dad, smoking his lungs away as he took another puff. his back was turned away from the tall, broad man. simon - who was always quiet, just like a ghost - walked up to the man, the muzzle of his gun pressed tightly to his head. his other hand gripped the mans lower face tightly, silencing him. "you fucking cunt." he whispered in his ear as his finger pulled the trigger.

one down, one to go. he entered the back door that was opened previously. he was now in a kitchen, he reached for a knife, a large one. he peaked through the door to see your mum on the couch, she was holding clothes, your clothes, crying into them. probably fake crying.

his footsteps were quiet as he pressed the cold knife into her neck. she gargled and choken on her blood, making a horrific sound before mouth slowly poured out from the gash. here face was cold, but wet.

simon breathed out, his gloved hands coated in the deep red liquid. his job was done. as he exited the building he opened his truck to find gasoline and a lighter. once again, he entered the house pouring the liquid all over the place before lighting it, setting the house ablaze. just like he had once done before.

**

soap who felt his skin crawl at the details you told him. the idea of being manipulated into certain things and being ridiculed at the slightest of actions you did wrong.

he questioned you, he needed to know everything.

once you'd finished talking, he pulled you in for a hug, before deeply kissing you. his hands were soothing like voice and he felt himself grow angrier as the thoughts lingered in his brain. thoughts that itched, like a allergic reaction that needed to be fixed, and just like that he came with a plan, a fix to this.

his eyes never left you when you slept, watching over your curled up sleeping figure, eyes still puffy from earlier. he played wiith your hair, thinking; how and why would someone do this? his fingers crossed your cheeks, rubbing them.

thinking back to the day he took you, your home. at the time you had been with your family. wouldn't it be helpful to teach them a lesson? to show them how it really feels.

immediately, he grabbed his hoodie, his shoes and a cloth that was drowned in chloroform. the acid that is used to make people pass out for a period of time.

he got in his car and made the dreadful but enticing journey back to your house.

there sat both your parents, up late and watching a movie. he waited, knowing if he went in and tried his plan whilst there was two people in there, he would get caught. so he continued to wait.

your mum stood up to go to the bathroom, your dad reached for both wine glasses and headed the kitchen. he had picked the lock before hiding so all he had to do was get in.

he walked over to the kitchen, his arm wrapped around the mans neck choking him as he placed the cloth on his face. he fell into a deep "sleep" before john headed to the bathroom. the door clicked open and just as fast as she opened it, she was quickly on the floor. both parents were now passed out.

his hands reached for the women, grabbing her and placing her in the boot, before doing the same to the old man.

it was a dreadful drive, he gritted his teach and furrowed his eyebrows. he'd teach them a lesson.

he chained them to a wall, gagging them so they couldn't speak. again, he waited until both were awake before shouting cruel things about how they treated you. name called them and physically hurt them. now they knew what it was like, and that put a broad smile on johnnys face.

**

price, a man who was aggressive to others, yet a sweetheart to you. you could make this man seem like the best man on earth, something that would shock others to the point were their jaw was touching the floor. "right, get back to work!" he yelled at someone's face, uttering curses while walking off.

the day you opened up to him, he felt himself break down. the same way that you would break down when being yelled at. his anger that was usually only shown to his workers, bubbled in his chest. his fingers gripped at his hair and tapped at the table.

he thought, he thought for a while. making sure to execute this plan to the best he could. murder? too risky, especially for a friday night. kidnapping? too stressful, he was losing enough hair at the idea of his darling suffering in general. he could get them fired? ruin their life until they took it themselves.

right, well, now he had a plan. he grabbed his laptop, starting it up and logging in. he mumbled curses as he hacked through their facebooks and other socials.

he began typing up offensive stuff, something that would get someone fired in a instant and ruin their digital history. he hit send, before logging onto the other social medias and tying up again, it got worse and worse as it went on.

he stalked them, "ill be at work late." he texted you, liar. he was stalking them. waiting for them to walk out of work with tears on their face, those same tears thats stained his darlings face.

and it happened, overtime the couple declined mentally. stealing money and taking drugs, he recorded this before sending in a anonymous confession to the police about the drug use.

soon enough, the two were in jail. for multiple things, some fake and some real. finaly, he had ruined their life the same way they had taunted and teased their kid. finally, he could rest knowing they were gone.

**

gaz would cry for you, mutter out curses at your parents as if they were here. he hated them because you hated them. anything you hated, he would hate. even if he said he liked it prior.

eventually, the thoughts came over him like a wave. a stream of tears rushed down his cheeks. his darling was hurt, and he had to do something about it.

he lied to you saying he would be going out with his friends. his trutted to his car, the engine starting before be drove off. he gripped the wheel, he could end up crashing thats how angry. and infact, if he saw them driving, he'd purposely crash. even if it costed him his own life.

but that never happened, his footsteps were hard yet quiet. the house was also quiet, silence making him louder. the door creaked after he picked the lock. his eyes roamed the rooms to make sure of no dog that would alert him.

snores came from the room, the master room. he glaned inside it, seeing both your parents asleep. his hands reached for the knife stabbing it in your mother's heart, she choked on her blood and made a disgusting noise of pain. it awoke the male beside her. his eyes filled with terror but all he could think about was you, how much terror you were in. kyle stabbed the man repeatedly as he did the same as the women next to her.

kyles hands shook with anger and thrill. he began to stab them more - although he was aware of their death, he wanted to make it clear that he hated these fuckers.

his shoes were stained with blood, leaving a trail from the bedroom to the door. he entered his car again this time, satisfied with what he'd done.

**

alejandro, although sometimes he was harsh to you and cold, he still loved you. he had a different way of showing his love.

but one night, a drunken confession came from you. your voice began with talking about your parents, then moving on to shit talking them. his eyes widen and his eyebrows furrowed. for a minute you thought he was angry at you, but he demanded for a name and address. in your intoxicated state you handed them over like it was nothing.

he stood up abruptly, leaving you confused as he dashed for his phone. he left you, alejandro dialed his friend who knew a hitman before telling them everything.

weeks later the news began talking about a murder, you were snapped from your thoughts only to see both your mum and dad on tv. a pang of guilt set through you as you began to cry, "you don't like that?" he asked, voice filled with genuine confusion. "ale- what- i did.. didn't want that?" you lied to him and yourself. unable to admit that you did actually want them gone.

"i can see through your lies. tell me." his accent deepened as he held your face, his eyes burning through yours. "c'mon, repeat after me; "i am glad my parents are dead." you lowerwd your head, "im glad my parents are dead." your voice was shakey, did you really want this?

**

könig, a love bomber, would pry his ribs open and bleed out if you even uttered that you liked the colour red. so when you told him everything down to the last detail, he was in hysterics.

"mausi, please just let me.." you knew ,you understand what he wanted. könig asked, he never wanted to displease you, even if it was something he really wanted.

you turned away from him, you couldn't admit that, no you couldn't... you just nodded your head before curling into a ball. "thank you, schatz.." he worshipped you, finally glad to have his wishes met.

the drive was silent, the taste in his mouth was bitter. his eyes glistened with tears every so often.

once he reached the house, he looked through the windows. your mum was showering and your dad was busy watching the football while smoking his life away. your mothers singing could be heard from downstairs as he entered the building.

he ran over to the man who was dwarfed by königs massive size. a blade was sliced through his neck as blood poured from it. the man choked a sob out before his body fell limp to the floor. könig grabbed the mans arm, stabbing it repeatedly.

his footsteps were loud, rushing upstairs to the bathroom as he broke it down. the women shrieked in fear as the giant stabbed hee until she was covered in blood. the blood drenched her body and a foul oder came from the dead body.

könig left the home, turning round one more time as he smirked tot himself. his handa were no longer shaking with anger and his eyes didn't glisten at the thought of them two. now they were gone and that was all he wanted to know.

the news flickered through images of your mum and dad, you couldn't help but feel... relieved? the odd feeling made you cry, a sob mufed by your hands. most would have a reaction of terror and shock. but thankfully, you cried tears of joy into königs arms.

**

graves who manipulated you into letting him carry out his plan. rage burned in skin as he held you close, letting you open up to him. "doll.." he winced as you brought up something close to you.

a day later and he was stomping through your parents house, a gun in his hand and his lips pressed together. he shot bullets in the distracted mans head, his body lowerwd to the floor as blood oozed out every gunshot.

the women rushed in, seeing her husband dead on the floor. he slowly walked up backwards against a wall, uttering names at her. "fucking slut. mental abuse, emotionally degrading your own kid?!" he screamed at him, grabbing her neck as he shots several bullets through her head.

he walked back to the man, who was limp and lifelessly. he continued with the shooting, kicking and cursing at the dead bodies.

mocking their dead bodies the same way they did to you, he took pictures on a polaroid camera. making them do humiliating poses and everything, their dead bodies were being ridiculed and made fun of.

something that made him smile, he kept these pictures, a good chuckle came from dead within him. even through their death they had been embarrassed, and that was all he wanted.

[justgarb]

If you catch some old rusty armor at a decent price, this guy has developed a formula for homemade evaporust @ 4:03

For 1L of water you'll need 100g of citric acid and 63g of baking soda (what I used) and some big big squirts of liquid dish soap

I've now used a 9liter batch of this to pull rust off of cast iron pans that were stored in a barn for decades. Currently re-seasoning those pans and they look great!

Cooking the local butcher's house sausage on a newly seasoned pan. Got yelled at for smoking up the kitchen, but the pan works like a nonstick as intended. 10/10 on the home made evaporust

[dandelionsresilience]

DIY Laundry Detergent

No Soap or Borax

2c baking soda + 2c washing soda + ½c citric acid + ½c salt | use 1Tbsp per load

Horse chestnuts + water (optional)

Horse chestnuts (conkers) + water

Soap, but No Borax

3.5Tbsp grated laundry bar + 3L water + ¼c baking soda | use ½c per load

5oz bar soap + 1c washing soda + 1c baking soda + 1c salt | use 1-2Tbsp per load

1c grated bar soap + 2c washing soda + 1c baking soda | use ¼c per large load

Soap and Borax

1 bar soap + 1c washing soda + 1c borax + 5Gal water | use 2Tbsp per load

2-5oz bar soap + 3c washing soda + 2c borax | use 1/8c per load

3 grated soap bars + 4lb borax + 3lb washing soda + 3.5lb baking soda | use 1-2Tbsp per load

Add white vinegar to soften & fight stains

Make washing soda by baking baking soda! (read link for details)

Baking soda can substitute for borax

Some recipes call for you to boil ingredients together, be sure to check the directions

For dry detergents, make it as fine a powder as possible to make sure it dissolves, and add the powder directly to the washing drum (where the clothes are), not the separate little drawer you put liquid soap in

Other recipes

Other recipes, including baby-safe and laundry pods/bombs

Other recipes, with a few more unique ones near the bottom

[forlorn-crows]

Mushy May Day 1: Bathtime

shhh just pretend it's still monday

Words: 537

Pairing(s): Sunshine/Rain/Mountain

“Alright, boys, make room.” Sunshine gestures over the steam of the bath, scents of fresh herbs and citrus quickly filling the humid room. Mountain and Rain disentangle themselves from one another with a playful grumble, scooting to opposite ends of the tub. Sunshine practically dances over the porcelain edge, balancing her glass of white wine in one hand. Rain holds a hand out for her to grip as she settles in, stretching languidly between them. 

The three of them really are far too big to fit comfortably in the bath, oversized as it is. But they’d rather drape themselves over one another, a stack of wet hellbeast limbs, than soak separately. Baths are a favorite pastime of the three, who are content to spend a relaxing evening or two quite literally soaking in each other’s company. 

Rain flops his tail over the side of the tub, sinking down into the water until the level reaches the tip of his nose. His raven-black hair floats around him in a dark halo, cerulean eyes shining in the dim candlelight. 

Mountain catches Rain’s emerging calves in his lap, holding them up so Sunshine has a space to tuck her legs underneath. Once she’s settled with her head draped over the side of the tub, the earth ghoul drapes one hand over Rain’s legs, rubbing them absentmindedly. With the other, he plucks a half-smoked joint from the small table behind him, offering it to Sunny.

“Thought I smelled something earthy,” she winks. “I’m good with my wine though.”

Mountain shrugs and takes a long pull for himself instead. He tips his head back and blows a cloud of smoke over his head. “This one’s not very strong anyway,” he says, snuffing it out in the small dish. 

“Wine isn’t either, but it tastes good, doesn’t it?” Her smile is blinding, even in the dim of the room. 

“It does,” Mountain agrees, offering a lazy smile. A lithe hand emerges from the water, beckoning for the stemless glass in Sunshine’s hand. 

“Oh, does the water ghoul want something?” She dangles the glass just out of his reach, teasing. Rain’s eyes crinkle at the corners, half of his head still submerged. He flexes his fingers again, a quick grabbing motion. 

Mountain reaches down and pinches the arch of his foot, causing the water ghoul to yelp a garbled burst of bubbles before pulling his legs back and sitting upright. “Don’t do that,” he laughs, tucking his feet out of reach before Mountain can do it again.

“What? You can’t drink wine underwater. I was helping.”

Rain narrows his eyes in a mock scowl, an expression which quickly disappears as Sunshine offers him her glass for a taste. He hums as the chilled liquid meets his tongue, slightly acidic, yet sweet and floral. “That’s a good one,” he agrees, handing the glass back to her.

“Isn’t it? Cirrus said it was too dry.”

“Blasphemy,” Mountain comments. 

“You don’t even drink wine,” Rain teases, flicking some of the soap bubbles towards him. 

The earth ghoul chuckles as a few water droplets hit him in the chest. “Fair enough, tadpole.”

“Okay, less talking, more relaxing please,” Sunshine shushes them. And well, they can’t argue with that.

[itsohh]

Hands

A/N: Female reader, Simon is only mentioned on this. Just a small scene that I actually wrote after what was supposed to be the next oneshot. A complimentary drabble.

Summary: Sometimes even when you know better, your unconcious mind has a way of expressing it's distress. Luckily for your, your friends are there to help your through the rough situation that is Ghost's comatose state.

Word count: 665

Warnings: PTSD, blood, nightmares, angst

AO3 Masterlist Series Masterlist

So much. So much of it on your hands. A stain that couldn't be removed no matter how hard you tried to scrub. Over and over you scraped the brush over your hand until your nerves screamed out in protest. You had to get it off, you had to clean your hands. Never had you had such a reaction to blood on your hands, you were a doctor after all. This should have been normal for you, but no.

Gasps mixed in with pained cries slipped out your mouth. Tears dropped from your face onto your hand, seering them with acid. The light above you flickered, a faulty bulb that had all light around you flash. A sob left your mouth and you swore it got worse. The crimson had consumed more of your hands. Dipped in the darkest and thickest of liquid. Evidence of his life that had poured out onto that god damn helicopter. Still, it wouldn't leave your hands.

Faster, harder you scrubbed. Blood poured down the drain and covered the sink but the amount still stayed. Faster the light flickered and yet nothing changed. Your sops filled the air, weekly blinking them away hoping the red would go, praying it would leave pray-

"Doctor!" With a gasp you jolted awake. Rapidly blinking your eyes darted around your location. Your vision was met with a cream coloured room, white floor. The familiar distasteful scene of sanitiser and medicine. A hospital. Directly in front of you, your vision focused to see the concerned man crouched down in front of you.

"Kyle." Your lip practically shook as you whispered his name.

"You alright? You seemed like you were having a nightmare." He stood up for a second and sat down on the long seat built into the front of the window.

"Yeah, fuck. Been a while since I had one that bad." Your eyes looked away from him for a moment to settle on the bed in front of you. The relaxing sound of the patients heart alerting you to his steady pulse. Gaz followed your gaze.

"You normally get nightmares?"

"Not often, on the odd occasion. Like all do."

"Was it about Ghost?"

"In a way, yeah." At your admission, Gaz wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his chest.

"He's gonna be alright. You said it yourself, the blood loss was the worst part right? Before you know it he'll be back up again kicking our asses on the mats." You leaned into Gaz, your head on his shoulder.

"I know I just, I'm scared."

"I think we all get scared sometimes. I'm scared too. Ghost will pull through, he's strong like that." You shut your eyes, comforted by Gaz's words. The tightness in your chest slowly died down and you let out a deep breath.

"Yeah, you're right. Do you mind if we stay like this for a bit?"

"Sure. You can go back to sleep, I'll wake you up if you have another nightmare."

"I'm not sure if I want to sleep to be honest."

"Try a little, yeah-" Gaz cut himself off as Soap returned to the room, eyes on Ghost for a moment and then landed on the pair of you. A sad little smile of a mask on his face.

"Hey, you two look cozy."

"Doc here is about to take a nap. Want to join?" At Gaz's proposal, Johnny noodles at you before he hopped on the free spot next to Gaz. He promptly rotated himself and lay across both of your laps.

"Best bed in the house." He snuggled in place and you couldn't help but smile at his grin.

"If you start snoring John I'm shoving you onto the floor." Your voice was partially mumbled out, eyesing closing as you made yourself comfortable on Gaz's shoulder.

"I don't snore." His little whine was the last thing you heard before you slipped into what would be a somewhat short but dreamless sleep.

[sonicasura]

Meanwhile at Tachikawa Base

Mina and Hoshina were currently making there way to the bases lab and research deparment. The reason well to get the information on what they found on the soappy sustance that Hoshina had been covered in ( took a 5 man team power wash and an 1 hour in the hot springs to finally be able to pick up a glass of water.)

The hope was maybe it could shed some light on the mysterious Kaiju's origin along with a hint to who the kid could be. They were hopeful for answers primarily due to the fact the head of the department called Mina in an excited tone she didn't think possible for the director.

" Ah Captain Ashiro, Vice-Captain Hoshina so glad you came posthaste"

A man in his fifties a scholar on the inner workings of Kaiju and there general make up. Having cool blue hair and a bit of lanky stance along with customized glass too, that act as a microscope. In all honesty the Professor was eccentric but he still held an air of intelligence and reliability which is how he got the director postion.

Mina: Hello Professor, nice to see you in such high spirits.

Professor: Thank you, nice too see the both of you doing well especially you Hoshina with how many walls you slammed into a couple days ago.

Hoshina: Please don't remind me * Shivers at the memory of crashing into his room door*

Professor: Ah yes yes , oh but enough with the pleasentries your here for answers and valiable information. Now first off the sample we got from the Kaiju, was deconsturcted and cross refrenced through our entire library of Kaiju annnnddd we got nothin'.

Mina/ Hoshina: Huh?

Professor: Yup not a single hit on any possible classification of known Kaiju, in fact the dna structure was entriely different, though we just chalked that up to possible contamination and interfernce from the Soap substance so for now that is on hold.

Mina: So we don't have any viable information which means were back where we started * Downcast*

Professor: *Frown* I'm sorry but that's all we could pull on that front. * A wide smile begins to adorne the Professors face* However there is a major, no a REVOLUTIONARY discovery we made with the soap substance, that I think you too should see.

Surprised and Intriuged by such a grand statement they followed the Professor to a testing room with a secure clear glass testing table with a couple liquids in their.

Professor: Now I was going to give you a run down but I decided to just get to the interesting parts. Now this right here is a blood from a Honju, this stuff is very sticky and takes powerful cleaning solutions normaly to move but, with a drop of the soap substance into the water * immediately pours it onto the blood* the soap begins to break apart the properties immediately turning the once sticky and rather putrid smelling blood into super low density liquid that also removes the stickyness and the smell.

Hoshina: Huh... a little drop of the soap substance did all that?

Mina: Hmm... that would be useful for getting clean up projects done faster but is it even safe?

Professor: That's the fantastic thing, it's completely safe for humans, unlike the super powered chemicals we have to use this get it done, with less hassle and danger, and it's even eco-friendly. To give you an idea a human can bath with this stuff and come out healthy and squeaky clean. Not only that the soap has another property * brings out and acidic proof table with a pulsing slime like substance* this is the highly acidic organ that's found in almost all Kaiju, volitalie stuff the eats away at a great number of things, along with the fact the some Kaiju have an more advanced version were they spit out the acidic fluid.

* Grabs another vial of water and add another drop of soap*

Professor: The soap * Splashes it on the acid*

The acid reacts for only a second before like the blood lowering it's density and moving outwards like a river in all directions

Professor: It again lowers the density and * pokes it with metal stick* immediately and completely removes the acidic effect. Needless to say

THIS. IS. REVOLUTIONARY!!!!

Mina and Hoshina were awestruck by what they were told a tiny drop of that strange soap produced by that Kaiju washed away the blood in an instant, along with the other major effect of neturalizing a Kaiju's acid. Not only was this a revolutionary discovery for Monster Cleanup companies, it would be a major boon to the Defense Force.

Mina and Hoshina looked at each both knowing they were thinking the same thing they need to find that kid along with those strange Kaiju.

Another little snippet as the mystery and intrigue of the Rider and there strange Kaiju cause them to redouble there efforts to get them captured along with No.8 as one will surely follow the other

Considering Bubblefoam's flavor text is 'Just a few drops could turn a swamp into a bubble bath', it probably took a while for them to realize the stuff was harmless to humans. The only concern being overusage as then it triggers 'Bubbleblight' from what Rider accidentally said during the chase with Hoshina. Looks like they are drawing connections between them and Kaiju No. 8.

I can only imagine their reactions upon finding out 8 sees Rider alongside their Monsties as his whelp. They probably know how difficult it is to handle Kaiju who follow their paternal instincts. Best to nab one while the other isn't present.

Edit: Now I have the image of them trying to figure out Rider's face. Do they have a small skull like carapace like No. 8? Or are they a human who been raised by Kaiju?

[magz]

Apparently, have found out:

vinegar + acidic liquid dish soap

do work for cleaning stainless steel and well-glazed ceramic surface

of bio-film, water stain, and dirt

include: for better clean pet bowl when submerge in vinegar + dish soap with water for hours - must rinse well

not smell strong as thought would after clean

warning:

check liquid dish soap not have ingredient baking soda / sodium bicarbonate (cancel out with vinegar), bleach (dangerous with vinegar), hydrogen peroxide (dangerous with vinegar), castille soap (cancel out with vinegar). -

there some ceramic bowl that not food safe. they also not react good with vinegar - melt glaze and leak toxic. so if not know, just not use on ceramic, and check if ceramic actual "food safe" if are use as pet bowl or human food bowl (tricky find out) -

general: not recommend use plastic bowl as pet bowl for more than temporary - plastic get micro-scratch and fester bacteria more -

was use "lime dish soap" (axios) - so was know was acidic, thus not cancel out wiht vinegar.

More info about what need keep in mind with liquid dish soap + vinegar mix: https://yardandgardenguru.com/what-happens-when-you-mix-vinegar-and-dish-soap/

More general info about pet bowl and water bowl material: https://www.hepper.com/best-material-for-pet-bowls/

[imfuckedinyourhead]

What's the most disgusting thing you would make a fakeboys do to fix him

I genuinely recommend not reading this, Trigger warning for... everything? Just don't read. Not sure I should answer you publicly. Castrating your "cock", gluing/sewing a cum pump dildo into your cunt (So I can still knock you up), mixing your t-gel with zit acid/toothpaste/menthol and making you apply it to your most sensitive areas, only allowing you to cum from rubbing yourself on a cactus/ sandpaper, washing out your mouth with soap each time you refer to yourself as a boy, either starving you or forcing you to "release" all food and liquids that don't cum from my body, except the table scraps from the food that you cook me. I've probably got a few others in me.

[pinguinwrites]

I am destroying myself so other people can’t. It’s the worst kind of control… but it’s the only form I know.

GhostSoap - prompt rescued thread from Twitter

tw: panic attack, dark musings

He watches Johnny sleep, how his features smooth out, muscles lax. Stubble dark against the white pillow… he looks awfully young like this.

Did he look young when he slept? Had he ever looked young at all, after…

Fingers clench around fabric.

Ghost’s eyes travel from Soaps passed out naked body to the mask in his hand. Rake over the worn cotton, uneven stitches, ravels how it feels rough even beneath his own calloused fingertips. Such a contrast to Soaps skin. Even his scars had been soft, their ridges like silk.

He turns it around and looks at the skull, carefully pushes against the resin, the slightly chapped paint at the edges of the bone’s outlines. Remembers how they press into his skin when he wears a helmet. How his skin is irritated and sore after long missions. When the balaclava the mask is stitched on is damp from wearing it too long… often soaked with sweat and blood from friction wounds around his nose and cheeks. And before he addresses those wounds, he always restitches the mask onto a new piece of fabric.

Because the is more important than his face. The pain and burning from his wounds a well-loved reminder to be alive. And a punishment all the same.

For being the one who is alive while they are not…

Every life he takes deserves a bleeding cut in his face. Until he can look in the mirror again, staring into the face that is filled with scars and emptiness. Until all these freckles that remind him of Tommy are gone. Until his brother can finally rest because Simon hast reached the sufficient level of hurt…. Or pain. Of punishment.

Ghost’s eyes blink slowly from the piece that defines his existence so fundamentally back to Soap. The human that does the same. Although he knows he doesn’t deserve it – him. His caresses. His softly spoken words.

It will all be a lie.

One day, this will not be the truth anymore.

He is not sure what hurts him more: Johnny loving him or the prospect of everything being a lie. And the pain reaches deep, makes it hard to breath when the thought crosses his mind. Flaring up nearly as intense as the irritated skin on his face.

Can he… should he give this much power into his hands? Was it fair to allow Soap to be the one to hurt him for existing? It was not his fault that Simon had failed to die. Wouldn’t he just burden another human with something that was his task…?

Ghost furrowed his brows when he felt his vision blurring at the edges. Blinking in rapid succession he felt moisture in his lashes, clumping at the sides and he blinked harder, frown deepening.

Was he bleeding?

Why?

He hadn’t worn his mask for hours now.

When the wetness dripped from his eyes onto the mask in his hands, he found the liquid clear. Not read.

Oh.

He was crying.

Why was he crying?

Irritation bubbled in his chest like a panic attack would. The faint pressure against his stomach. The shiver.

Ghost let go of a shaking breath he didn’t know he was holding. What was happening?

“Simon?”

Flinching like he had been hit he stumbled back, hands gripping the mask on instinct, an intrinsic motion, already moving the protective gear to pull it over his head. Securing. Punishing. His emotions were not for the world.

Soaps sleep rendered eyes met his panicked, tear-stricken ones. Grey stormy orbs that resembled the angry sea on a particular rainy day softened immediately. Flickered from his face to the mask and back.

Understanding passes his features.

Ghosts hates that. Loves that.

He is not made for being understood. It takes pain away; burdens the others he is bound to protect. They are not to shoulder his responsibility – he has to suffer for surviving, for being the one who crawled from that grave. He shouldn’t never have let Soap this close, there was no…

Panic like bile pushed up his esophagus, burning acid of self-loathing and the need for pain pain pain pain pain pain rendered his brain useless.

He shouldn’t.

He couldn’t.

He needed…

No air. It hurt. He would die here.

His mind crushed his being. His fault. His FAULT.

Until warmth chased the coldness of surviving away.

Strong arms that pulled his weak body against warm flesh. Fingers like scolding coals that pressed into his back and lips like lava that left way too soft kisses against his wet face. Kissing scars and freckles alike.

They made no difference between past and present. Infused him with the idea of a future instead.

Pressed the mask between their bodies where they met. Acknowledges his need to vanish behind the persona of Ghost because there was nothing left from Simon. But…

Johnny pried the shattered pieces of his being out of the darkness of his mind. Hold them in his hand and collected them like shards. Glued them together with love… around his mask. Around those scars.

Sudden calm washed over him like an ocean wave. He didn’t understand the words that Johnny whispered in his ears, his mind too far gone for anything coherent. But floating in this ocean that was Soap was okay… a tiny part of him, that spoke with the sound of his brother, told him, it was fine… and it lured him like a siren.

And he allowed himself to fall into the trap of being permitted an existence. For the while.

[askacultleader]

Mod I cast magic upon ye! You now have the urge to talk about soap

{Soap is a cleansing agent, manufactured in bars, granules, flakes, or liquid form, made from a mixture of the sodium salts of various fatty acids of natural oils and fats.}

[smute]

nothing more humbling than when you eat something and have to use the bathroom. like you're really just a tube with stuff in it. we all are. each and every one of us is just a complicated messy poop machine. some of us act like they aren't. some of us see a cow chewing cud and go "how pathetic they spend all day chewing stuff its like a full time job to them" and they point at the cow and laugh. even though they're doing the same thing with their insides producing all sorts of slimes and liquids and solids. when armstrong landed on the moon his meat tubes were hard at work making poop like he was thinking about that cute leap for mankind speech while his stomach was making acid to dissolve little bits of astronaut food. astronaut food that he mashed up with the outside bones of his mouth hole and pushed down a muscley meat tube into a meat bag full of acid. maybe he even heard a little rumble tumble from his astronaut tum tum. when kennedy was shot he was making poop in the back of that convertible. jackie too. in fact, jackie's gut was excreting slime to make sure her freshly made poop wouldn't get stuck on its way to her butthole. they were both filled to the brim with food and poop and various liquids. putin has at one point in his existence on this planet shat his pants and it was disgusting it was so sticky and smelly and he had to clean himself off with soap and water. and then he had to go eat more food and mash it up and dissolve it in the meat bag to make even more poop just to stay alive. right now at this very moment there's someone in the united nations general assembly making poop by churning a very long meat tube inside of their body. every royal palace has toilets. and royal people shit into them. and then they push a button or pull on something or use some sort of mechanism to activate another mechanism and that mechanism flushes their poop down a pipe and they stand there and the smell lingers and they're still royals but they're also stinky smelly animals with poopy butts. in fact, they're among the smelliest stickiest poopy butt animals in the world because some years ago their ancestors started walking around on their hind legs which made their glutes fucking enormous and buried their buttholes deep inside a dark moist crack and now they're royals in a royal palace but they still have to use paper or a jet of water or perhaps a washcloth and stick their fingers all the way up into that crack to clean their wrinkly stinky butthole