#best floor cleaner liquid

[susichems]

[eviesqueezie]

ponyboy sits, legs swinging off his counter as he bites down into one of those ripe green apples darry liked to get. said it kept them ‘healthy’, he liked to say that stupid rhyme about the doctor every time he saw pony grab one outta the fruit bowl. it was annoying, but kinda sweet.

the door slammed shut, distracting pony from his thoughts as he hopped off the counter and ran to wrap his arms around sodapop - who normally got home from work at this time. except, when he stood in the hallway, he was met with the lanky yet bloody figure of dallas winston.

“holy- sit down dally! wait- not on-“

dallas threw himself down onto the recliner, spreading the red iron-y liquid all over the fabric. darry would be pissed.

“what- what happened?” pony squatted down next to him, giving him a quick look over to assess the real damage. he had a black eye, split lip and a deep cut running down his arm that was bound to scar harsh and jagged.

“stupid fuckin jones, slashed me.”

ponyboy didn’t know any ‘jones’ but he just nodded, rushing to the bathroom to grab the medical kit- they kept it in the cabinet as they used it so often. it was running low on bandages, pony made a mental note to get more.

they sat in silence, the occasional hiss of pain or soft spoken apology, as ponyboy patched up his arm. real good, if he said so himself.

the door slid open, the person holding it back before it can slam- meaning it was darry.

ponyboy jumped up, making direct eye contact with him before trying his best to explain why their recliner would probably be stained with blood for the rest of eternity.

darry interrupts him, grabbing pony by the shoulders and tilting his head this way and that.

“you get hurt too, pone? or just dally?”

dallas groans from his half passed out state on the recliner, muttering a ‘you know i’m right here, don’t ya?’.

it falls to (mostly) deaf ears as pony shakes his head just before darry drops the brown shopping paper bag of groceries onto the ground as he pulls ponyboy into a tight hug.

“awe, dar, cut it out-“

darry looks up, rolling his eyes and kissing his teeth as he notices the stain- and the apple core rolling across the kitchen’s tiled floor.

“man, could y’all be any cleaner?”

ponyboy shakes his head, pushing a finger through his belt loop as darry ruffles his hair before picking up the groceries and making his way to the kitchen to finally pack them away.

[livingbreathingdreams]

❤︎ Oh, honey

Pairing: Bartender!Captain Syverson x Reader

Summary: A first date and cowboy hats.

A/N: This sequel exists thanks to a video of two bearded men in cowboy hats line dancing to Footloose on Tiktok 🤠🧡

Part I

The next time she came into the bar, she was a little more awkward than usual. He could tell she was embarrassed about getting shitfaced and telling him all of her private business. She told him she wasn’t sure he was being sincere when he said he wanted to take her out, which made his heart crack a little. How could she not see what a catch she was and that HE would be the lucky one, should she ever give him a chance?

It took some hot tea with a generous swig of Fireball on the house, and some coaxing from Sy to get her to finally believe him. But the smile that made its way onto her lips was reward enough for him. They agreed on Saturday night, when he wasn’t scheduled to work at the Drink & Jive.

//

She wore a pair of jeans that hugged her in all the right places and a really soft-looking blouse when she stepped out of her front door. He didn’t want to tell her where they were going and told her to pick a casual outfit she would feel comfortable in. This time, the strawberry red on her lips looked just right. He had to clear his throat before speaking. “You look breathtaking honey.” And he wasn’t the only one who had trouble keeping himself from unraveling. Her voice came out breathy. “Thank you, Sy. You don’t look so bad yourself.” Which wasn’t a lie. He wore his best pair of jeans and a crisp, clean button-up with a silver triangle bolo tie. An outfit he had picked especially for her.

He opened the passenger door of his truck for her. His truck was black and looked exactly like she’d imagined his car would look like, except a lot cleaner. It looked almost like he had cleaned it for her, which made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Jogging around the front of the car Sy got into the driver’s seat and turned his body toward her, smirking, reaching for something on the back seat. Without a warning, he plopped something on top of her head and into her lap. A little startled giggle left her when she took the hat off her head and studied his offerings.

A bouquet of tulips in rustic parchment paper. A cowboy hat, in pristine white, made from incredibly soft material.

“Do you have that little confidence in the date you have planned that you have to bribe me?” The sparkle in her eyes made it clear that she was only joking but deep down he did feel a little like he needed to proof himself as a worthy partner.

“No, I know you will like it but I think you deserve to be spoiled.”

“I… Thank you, Sy.” The same breathy voice but a smile so bright it warmed up the whole inside of his truck.

//

Arriving at the destination a chuckle escaped her. “Really? Another bar, that’s where you want to go when you’re off work?”

Once they stepped inside the whole cowboy hat of it all suddenly made sense. She was standing there, her jaw nearly hitting the floor. Country music? That was one thing she did not expect Sy to be into. A room full of cowboy hats, cowboy boots, boot cut jeans and polished belt buckles. People whirling around to Hank Williams and drinking beer and whiskey.

Looking up at Sy, who now stood next to her wearing his own cowboy hat and his signature grin she couldn’t stop herself from laughing. A joyful, pearling sound that made him want to swear an oath to always find ways to keep her laughing and happy.

His warm hand on her lower back he gently steered her into the direction of the bar. “What would you like to drink honey?” The term of endearment made her cheeks feel hot and her insides all gooey. “You know I like something sweet and strong. I need some liquid courage before we get on the dance floor because I have two left feet.”

Waving down the bartender Sy ordered their drinks, standing so close to her, she could feel his body heat. “You’ll be fine honey.” Right when he said that an unassuming looking guy in a washed-out shirt and trucker hat threw his dance partner up on his shoulder, whirling the woman around, making her think of a windmill. Sy must have seen the expression on her face. Chuckling, he reassured her that they would stay with the basics.

This was different, so very different from every date she’d ever gone on. No fancy restaurant with table cloths and candle sticks, no awkwardly sitting next to each other, staring at the screen in a movie theatre. This dancing was different. No grinding, being groped with sweaty hands in a sea of bodies on a dark dance floor.

He had spent some time trying to teach her an easy two step, which she did not master but still had a lot of fun trying. Now he was just leading her around the dance floor, spinning, preventing her from running into other people, making her laugh. There was a lot of space between everyone, between them, and yet it felt like she’s never been closer to someone. His presence was calming and effortlessly bridged the gap between them.

//

At the end of the night they both were a little sweaty and tired but very happy. When is truck came to a hold in front of her house, he got out and opened the door for her, helping her out, not letting go of her hand after. Her skin was glowing under the street lights and her smile still bright when she looked up at him. “Thank you, Sy. I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun.”

He looked at her like she was something other than just human, his eyes drifting gown to her lips. “Oh, honey. Will you let me take you out again? This is just the beginning.” Her answer was just as breathy as in the beginning of their date.

“Yes, please.”

“May I kiss you?”

“Yes, please.”

[7association-was-here]

Faust shall keep this simple, though of course the “grand finale” of this case could not be referred to as such in consideration of length and complexity (it is very, very long). But the following is the report and conclusion of the business at District 12, L corp.. summarised in a slightly more unique manner than previous reports.

-

The scent of the deceased reeked forth, sharply throughout our whole surroundings. Faust has very rarely visited this fallen wing but it was exactly as described countless times before; A near wasteland.

We considered searching for the individual whom identified themselves with the symbol, or perhaps title is more fitting, “SnakeHead”. But with the life of Heathcliff on the line and in the hands of an unknown threat Faust calculated that it is improbable to spare the time in searching for a guide in these unpredictable circumstances and territory. Not to mention that they have done enough help for us already. It would only be a burden.

Therefore we pushed onwards towards the center of the District instead where that infamous facility once stood. The head of Lobotomy Corporation and the Library Phenomenon. There was not much left of it except for mostly the underground entrance, for the upper half was supposedly transported by The Head into the outskirts.

Leaving behind multiple back-ups to watch and secure the surface, we descended, to the depths of the fallen wing.

As reported previously we encountered many of the “Abnormalities” and “Peccatula”, most of which were not a hassle to deal with. They are unpredictable yes, but manageable. (We shall need to observe them more sometime later..)

Pushing that aside as we traversed those ruins, the crackling of faulty wires, the dripping of blood, the flickering lights and the damp musty air were all that accompanied us passively. All else were hostile. We were thankful not to run into higher classed abnormalities though that much was sure. And Faust thought that the presence of some form of remaining energy being utilised is quite strange. It might have been flickering unevenly but the lights were very bright, unlike ones commonly found in abandoned buildings.

Of course that might have been from the remaining Enkephalin source somewhere within but the lights themselves seemed suspiciously brand new. I might be wrong, but it felt like a sign of recent inhabitants.

-

Proceeding forwards, and deeper into the facility, that was when the situation began to shift. As we descended to a new floor we noticed the surrounding seemed much cleaner than the previous upper floors. Much more sanitised and well-kept. In fact a few pieces of new furniture (most used for storing items, such as shelves and drawers) had been installed. All lined with research documents as well as what seemed to be various liquids in small containers. Faust doubts they were normal medication.

And not much to our surprise, moments later we spotted individuals ahead discussing a topic very heavily. I directed everyone to stay low, wait for them to pass, and in the meanwhile do their best to catch what it is those people were discussing. People in mostly lab coats..

”Yes, the substance reverts things to their original state…”

“So if we tamper it together with those alternate realities do you think..”

It was difficult to decipher what they spoke of. But those two sentences were what Faust remembers very clearly. And as they passed a revelation came to me as well, Faust recognises those lab coats. Or some of them at the very least, had the K corp emblem embedded at the side of their sleeves. What does this imply? That K corp is aware of the ordeal? Or were these simply stray traitors of the wing? Whatever this was Faust knew it was a sign that another of our cases was about to be answered. The missing former K corp employee.

I shall spare the details of how long we searched these floors but eventually we found him. The individual known as “Dongrang”, or so we believe. As his corpse had been altered very severely beyond recognition, and sealed within some form of glass incubator. A unique coffin inside one of the emptied chambers. This was certainly something K corp was not going to be pleased with as we couldn’t possibly retrieve the body from inside that device. Instead we could only take a photograph of it which shall be deemed classified and cannot be shared here.

-

With one of three cases dealt with I focused next on finding Heathcliff. The most important of them all.

Going deeper once more revealed that only the middle floors have been fully inhabited by this unknown faction. The final lower areas seemed more desolate… Not even abnormalities were spotted in these depths. Perhaps someone had cleared them out previously, as some traces did remain.

It was wholly uneventful for the most part, until we ran into an encounter. A familiar face, one which I immediately rushed upon, but was greeted with a strange disappointment right after.

Slumped on the wall lay a terribly injured individual. Heathcliff, but not my Heathcliff. It was one of the “mirror” versions of him, one we’ve indirectly met before in fact. The one from Shi Association. It is with regret to say that he was in a nearly irreparable state when we found him. A miracle he hadn’t immediately died, Faust will say.

And in thanks to that he was able to use those final precious moments to relay some information about our Heathcliff’s whereabouts along with information of another individual possibly with him. He claims that he was led here by a prescript (similar to how our Heathcliff was), and boldly followed along. As is later found out the prescript was a fraud and simply a trap for someone he described as “The Erlking Bastard” to ambush them. He recalls there being exactly 3 victims, aligning perfectly with the amount of Heathcliffs that we are aware of.

Though sadly… The Shi association fixer could not make it and later parted way right there with our eyewitness. A very mixed feeling it was. To watch someone I both know dearly and did not know at all the same time, perish just like that. A dear stranger.

We will contact Shi Association of their loss…

-

A trail of red string led us forth in this final floor, into a narrow hallway and into several more corridors, eventually from the distance we heard the clashing of two blades and of screams or shouts. A fight was in motion somewhere and Faust had to locate it immediately.

Now running through as best as we could in fear of being “too late” we pursued the red ribbon hastily and at last landing us in front of the entrance to one of the abnormality containment chambers. The door itself was fastened tightly, but peaking from behind the glass was still manageable and behind it lay a very strange and equally concerning sight.

Heathcliff, our Heathcliff, battered and bleeding though still holding on as he faced against yet another familiarly unfamiliar man.

A man seemingly at the end of his wits, his face worn and consumed with nothing but hatred and a single goal in mind. He seemed to be saying something, a speech perhaps to our Heathcliff. But with the noise canceled out not a proper word was made out. Afterwards he raised his weapon as though for a final strike, but I could not allow for that to pass. Pushing with all our might to get the door to open, just somehow, in some desperate miracle of hope, I could not simply stand to watch another—

“V.R.O.O.M way.” “Very Ridiculous, Out Of My”

And that “miracle” we desperately needed had revealed itself in the form of Ryoshu and her golf cart, ramming right into the containment chamber.

..Faust knows many things, but she does not know one thing right now. And that one thing is how can she describe the events which followed after the golf cart in a professional and sane way. To say the least Ryoshu’s ambushing was enough to pierce through the chamber and practically hit our foe point blank. Unfortunately as soon as we all began surrounding him, he vanished somewhere somehow amidst everything. Ryoshu quotes “Coward.”

It is anticlimactic yes, but I am certain things will properly come to an end eventually regarding his case in the future, all things in consideration. In other words that won’t be the last we see of him.

I instead turned to Heathcliff with many things to say, but we eventually left just as we had entered.

Faust would have said “carefully as to not be spotted” but we exited with the golf cart. No elaboration is needed on that.

-

And at last, after long sufferings that case comes to… A rather strange and unfulfilling close. Many strings did not tie together as Faust expected, such as the deal with K corp and the identity of this unknown faction remaining as it is. But for now,

I am glad that Heathcliff is finally safe. We lost one unfortunately, but he died a fairly noble death just as I would have wished for my own Heathcliff. He shall be remembered. And as for the other, the Öufi fixer has been returned safely to his own section. It will be awkward to explain what happened to their fixers, but nonetheless.

Ah. And I’ve received some additional information from Heathcliff… The fraudulent prescripts were indeed sent by “The Erlking”, in fact the murder of the workshop owner was also a part of the trap. And he explains too that this “Erlking” is another mirror occurrence of himself it seems.

The reason why he acted the way he did in attempting murder against the other Heathcliffs though… Our Heathcliff seems hesitant to explain. Whatever the reason may be I will not force it out of him right now if he does not wish to. Instead Faust will focus more on how “The Erlking” has anything to do with the unknown faction as well as K corp. What were their goals? What were they doing with the corpse of the K corp employee? And was the workshop murder truly a simple red herring, considering the strange mirror room within the warehouse? There were more questions produced than answered from this occurrence.

It is a very complicated matter indeed… Although now, I suppose that is all I can report. Faust shall take her mind off of this for a while and…

See if Heathcliff would like a cup of tea?

[sailorsenshishitposter]

Otacon x Reader

Warning

Highly cursed at the halfway point. Spoilers for End of Evangelion and I wouldn't recommend that sane people watch it just to try to understand what the hell is going on. Yes there are parts where people turn into orange liquid followed by screams and upbeat happy music about suicide. Also do not look up the hospital scene for this movie (which it is infamous for). You have been warned.

_______________________________________

Otacon

Your smash main is Snake, you're a weeb or you fall in love easily and are used to being hurt by others.

First Date:

None. This man is busy raising a child with Snake.

Second Try:

The two of you meet on a fan board and quickly exchange numbers. Soon he invites you over to his house for a date. You asked where he lived but he said he would prefer to pick you up. You wait outside until you feel what seems to be an earthquake. You go to run but then you look into the sky. "IS THAT A GIANT ROBOT!" The "vehicle" pulls up and sure enough, Otacon is waiting for you. "Good evening. You look wonderful..." He then handed you a bouquet of flowers and you came inside.

Man, he really was an otaku. His home consisted of a bedroom that was really more like a storage space, a bathroom and a kitchen. "Make yourself comfortable, I'm going to bring some refreshments." You looked around for a spot to sit down, his room being like that one photo of Yoshihiro Togashi but notably much cleaner. The walls were stacked from the floor to the ceiling. You would have to tell your date that piracy was also an option. Most of it was just anime so you knew better than to touch it.

There was a small CRT and just about every console you could think of. Even the bad ones.At the far end of the room was a computer. You didn't really understand how that stuff worked but you figured his setup must be very expensive since all you had was Windows 95. You saw a purple creature on the desktop. "What's a bonzi buddy?

"You then noticed that Hal had come back. "I brought you a bento and some pocky. Only the best for my little waifu." He then blushed and turned the television off. "Sorry. I forgot that I was playing Policenauts on my Saturn earlier.."He then asked Alexa to play his spotify playlist which consisted of nothing but Hatsune Miku.

After you were finished eating, he took you by the hand. "Allow you to show you my prized collection." He brought you to his glass stand filled with various figures. It had a little bit of everything. Transformers, all the Gundams, some Code Geass. Even this weird one he called Zone of the Enders? "Yeah, I'm a huge fan!" He then looked around to see if the almighty Mr. Kojima was watching."

But this... This is my favorite." It was a giant build of EVA 01. "I never knew you liked Evangelion..." He then pulled out a copy of End of Evangelion. "Would you like to watch it with me? I have the renewal edition..." You gazed into his eyes and kissed him. "Wow..." He then turned on his hello kitty DVD player and inserted the disc.

The two of you started frenching during the komm susser tod sequence. You began to stroke him while the lyrics "It all returns to nothing" played. "Looks like someone's snake is solid..." He then thought to himself while the screams of those being turned into orange juice could be heard. "It's just like one of my Japanese amines!" You gave one final pull, yelling "It all CUMS TUMBLING DOWN, TUMBLING DOWN, TUMBLING DOWN"

________

Having finished, Hal shut off his VR machine. Ever since David had left him to go on a date with a woman, he hadn't felt the same. He thought back to when he asked him if love could bloom on the battlefield and then started to sob into his arm. "WHY DOES EVERYONE I LOVE LEAVE ME!?" Little did Snake know but Otacon had created a program where he could be with him in a dating sim. He would later sell it on steam and become as rich as Snake did from the fortnite cameo, bringing him into the spotlight. They would later get back together and become the ultimate power couple.

[kathysturniolo]

Understand you.

description: a teenage girl, February Martin, struggling with mental health and addiction who hates talking about her feelings. she likes the fact that nobody notices. however, her best friend, Matt, starts to realize more and more that she's losing herself.

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

"Feb.."

"Feb, wake up."

"February.."

"Feb! "

   My eyes flickered open. I heard Sarah's voice. I looked at her. The light burned into my pupils.

"Ms. Tilson just asked you a question."

"I-I'm sorr- what? " I lifted myself up. My arms were numb.

"I asked you to identify this triangle. February. "

My eyes fixated on the board. It was blurry. I looked around and everyone's eyes were plastered to me.

"I- um- I don't know." My nails dug into my arm. I heard whispers and people were giving me looks, almost like they wanted to yell 'boo' at me.

"Miss Martin, you've been sleeping in my class almost this entire semester. "She sighed.

I didn't say anything. I wanted to. I just stared at my legs. She pinched the bridge of her nose and picked up a marker.

"Does anybody else want to try to identify the triangle? "

Hands rose like fucking springs. You idiot.

After that class, I left early. Like, 'asking to go to bathroom and then walking out of the door' early. I'm surprised I've never been caught before, after doing it at least 20 times this year. I found a gas station and sat outside on a piece of side walk and pulled out my my phone.

feb:

heyy

matt:

dude did u leave class again?

feb:

yeah lol sorry

matt:

yk your gonna get caught one day for just leaving.

feb:

it hasn't happened yet so 🤷‍♀️

matt:

ok lol. where are you?

feb:

Dan's gas station

matt:

come by my house after i get out, k?

I sighed and sat down my phone. i was going to go to a bar tonight. Get 'today' off my mind.

feb:

alright

I headed home after sitting down for about 15 minutes. If I was being honest, I didn't want to explain to my dad why I was home early, but I just wanted to go home for a little bit.

I opened the door. The creak made my body twitch. I hated this damn door.

"Dad, " I shook him.

Yep, he was knocked out.

Thank God.

His beer can spilled a little on the floor, leading me to accidently stepping in the puddle of liquid.

"Shit."

Well, that was another reason why my day sucked. I took off my now soaked converses and threw them over in the living room, rushing to my room.

My room was a mess. I didn't remember leaving it like this. I just threw myself on my bed, opening the sandwhich bag of meth I had in the corner of my bed, hidden under some covers. When Matt finds out I didn't stop using he'll be so pissed at me. His voice rang inside my head.

6:51

matt:

u still coming over?

My phone buzzes beside me. I woke up as my body was leaned off the bed.

I was definitely high. .

feb:

ya

I cut my phone off and tried to get up. My head got dizzy and my vision went black.

It's okay, maybe he won't notice.

I put on a dark blue sweatshirt, put on a pair of sneakers, and walked out of my room, down the stairs.

Dad was still fast asleep. Part of me didn't really care and wanted to let him sleep but the other part of me wanted to wake him up and make sure he didn't die in his sleep. I was almost out the door when I sighed and turned back around and made my way to my dad and put my finger under his nose to make sure he was breathing.

He was, thank God.

I walked back to the door and walked out. I forgot to lock it but, it's a small neighborhood, I think it'll be okay.

I must've not been too high, I could still function. I was kinda dizzy still. Hopefully, I don't get hit by a car as I'm walking to Matt's.

feb:

im on my way

I slid my phone in the pocket of my sweats. and speed-walked down the street and curved a couple corners until I made it to his house. He had a better house then me, it was bigger and cleaner. He loves to clean, so that makes sense.

feb:

here

A couple seconds later, Matt's blue eye met mine. He greets me with a big smile.

"Hey, kid," He said, poking out his hand, gesturing to do our handshake.

I smiled and grabbed his hand, "Bro I said stop calling me kid, you're literally younger then me," I laughed.

"By what? 4 months?" He said furrowing his eyebrows and smiling.

We both laughed and I walked into his house fully.

"Parents are at work, so we're definitely using the kitchen." He said, chuckling.

"Aww, mann, but Marylou and Jimmy are the only reason I even come here," I teased.

He laughed and we walked up the stairs to him room. He had an awesome room. His LED lights were always on green, he had a huge bed, and a big blue bean bag chair. He had a huge gaming set up, and a walk in closet with band posters stuck to it from top to bottom.

I plopped on his bed and kicked off my shoes. He climbed beside me.

"Dude, I saw this movie on TikTok, it's about some psyco killer clown. It seems pretty badass. "

I was zoned out, my head in the clouds, I almost didn't hear what Matt said.

"Alright, " I said with an unconvincing laugh.

I could tell he was confused on my lack of excitement because I saw him look at me from the corner of my eye.

He cut of the tv, and put it to the movie. My head was killing me. I clenched my eyes shut and winced a little. He tapped on my shoulder.

"Are you good bro?' He said, with a little bit of a laugh.

"Yeah, duh" I said sarcastically.

The movie played for at least 10 minutes before my vision went black again and I got dizzy. I started to lean back a little bit.

"Feb." He said, seriously. So seriously, it kind of scared me.

"What?" I said innocently, as I looked him.

He looked at me, squinting his eyes a bit. He parted his lips and frowned at me.

'You're using again. " he sighed.

"What? Matt. I'm not. I'm no- not."

I looked at him. I could see his eyes start to water.

"Feb, you promised me you'd stop. You promised me." He looked at me, with glossy eyes.

"Matt, I- I'm n-" My voice cracked. My eyes swelled with tears. "I can't, Matt."

Matt wiped his hand over his mouth. I could see a tear, screaming to come out of his eye.

I covered my mouth with my hand. I tried not to cry. I closed my eyes to try to keep the tears in.

He leaned over me, putting his hands on my arms. He looked at me, he didn't say anything. It was almost like he was waiting for the whole world to disappear and it just be us.

"February," He spoke, "It's okay."

He took his thumb and wiped his thumb across my face.

"You're my best friend Feb. You told me you were getting better. You told me that you stopped."

"Matt, I- I'm sorry." I sighed.

"What's going on? You first started using when your grandma died. That was your worst breaking point. That was 3 years ago. What's going on now? " He whispered.

"Nothing, Matt. Nothing, I promise."

"February, talk to me."

"You won't understand."

"You're my best friend, I understand you, Kid"

"My dad." I whispered.

"Your dad? What's wrong with your dad?" Matt asked concerned.

"He misses Mom, Matt. Last month was her birthday. He's been isolating since." My voice cracked.

Fuck, don't cry again February.

Matt pulled me into a hug. I put my face into the crook of his neck, trying not to cry.

"I'm so sorry. " He whispered as he rested his chin on my head. "Can you stay tonight? I just want to make sure you're okay."

I breathed out and wiped the tears off my eyes and nodded."

"I'm here for you, February. For fucking ever."

I chuckled, and we laid back and continued watching the movie.

[spidermilkshake]

It's Alive

Here we go, Resident Evil fanfic. Guess who loves mutants and monsters and hates corporations.

Rating: Teen (TW for blood, human experimentation, dehumanization, medical/lab settings and stuff, plus also human adults cuss like human adults).

First in a series: The T-00 Tyrant, later known as "Mr. X", done gets born and has a bit of a time during its first few minutes of aliving.

1: It’s Alive

            When the newly-created bioweapon first gained consciousness it took several moments to adjust itself to the barrage of sensations. There was something wrong… dizzying about the way its weight was distributed; when its fingers twitched, it felt the movement of cold fluid flowing between them, explaining right away the strange thickness that surrounded its form. Somewhat distorted, slightly muffled, it began to hear a conversation from close by, which it found it could understand:

            “Eugh. Ugly fucker, isn’t he?”

            “Ugly is as ugly does, Carson. By the way, it can hear you.”

            “Shut up. You’re not gonna scare me that way. Now, where’s that Limiter?”

            “It’s all in that box over there. I’ll start the drain.”

            There was a heavy clunk, then a pull from below as the liquid it was suspended in began being siphoned away. As its feet met the grate at the base of the chamber housing it, the bioweapon wavered in place as it finally felt its full weight settle with the force of gravity. There was a burble as the last of the fluid sucked through the drain-holes followed by relative silence, broken only by dripping from its fingertips, back, and down its chin. The chill of air beginning to dry its bare skin elicited another twitch, and it finally was motivated to open its eyes.

            Through the curved warp of the glass tube its piercing vision first perceived the face of a researcher, brows scrunched up in concentration as he examined it right back. The man was young with scruffy stubble, and clad in a long white lab coat (though with many small stains of indeterminate color). The bioweapon’s gaze slowly slid to the side, watching as the second researcher bent over a bank of controls attached to the cylinder containing it. There was another clunk, a hiss of pneumatics and a hum of electricity as the tube raised up into a housing in the dark ceiling. A new sensory capacity—scent—washed over the newly-awoken being as the stark, sterilized air of the laboratory was introduced to it. The creature blinked out of the unfamiliarity, metal grate floor creaking underneath it as it shifted its weight.

            “Tyrant T-103, designated T-00,” the second researcher said as she straightened up and took a pace over towards it, snapping its attention back to the humans over the environment. It focused on her, examining the much cleaner lab coat, the tight bun of hair, the red and white insignia over the breast pocket; humans were very small, very frail-looking, far smaller than itself and upon that nonplussed realization it had the first thought of what it was. The researcher’s voice stalled that thought with a sharp order, “Step out T-00.”

            The Tyrant designated T-00—absorbing what the woman had called it—obeyed with its first two heavy steps. Internally it was intrigued and alarmed as it felt the tiled floor shake beneath it. It must be several magnitudes larger than it had first supposed; the creature stole a moment to crane its neck further down, trying to look at itself as best it could. Its own massive chest blocked much of its view, though it could also see its own huge, stout forearms. Thick, leathery gray skin permanently marred with tightly-packed, curving striations covered every visible inch, though it was much thinner and less wrinkled towards the center of its chest—as if strained and bulging outwards from sheer mass contained within. Pulsating movement on each side of the sternum caused it to look closer. The skin there was bulging outwards; lacing through gaps in the underlying bone and muscle were twin oversized aortas, presumably issuing from twin oversized hearts, shifting visibly just under the surface as thick blood was rapidly shunted through its gigantic frame. This was… not something typical to humans, and it knew that instinctively.

            “Here. Put these on yourself.” As a bulky armful of heavy black Kevlar and leather was pushed towards it, the Tyrant’s eye snapped back to the man, who struggled to manage the whole bundle of immense boots and trousers and buckled straps until the bioweapon grasped them with the tiniest fraction of its strength. After a curious pause, it very gingerly tested its movements to crouch and set down the boots, sliding into the lower half of the sleek black covering one leg at a time. Then, into the boots one foot at a time—fumbling with the straps and buckles but then learning quickly how to make finessed motions with its new fingers.

            “This too,” And a matching trenchcoat of similar scale and material was pushed into its hands as it stood back upright. The Tyrant obeyed, carefully tightening each of the straps until the tough inner lining conformed snugly around its torso, wrists and neck. Something felt immediately correct about this. Not exactly pleasant but the presence of this outer covering was reassuring, and the bioweapon squared itself up in a more at-ease posture as it made a final few adjustments to its gloves.

            “That went well,” the male researcher muttered over to his cohort, who was piecing together notations in a sheaf of files on her clipboard. The bioweapon overheard it all with a stoic stare out over the darkened lab, aware it was being ignored. “So, this one’s finished and ready to roll out?”

            “Not quite. It still needs an implant. After that it needs to go to QA for a few days to be sure it isn’t faulty.”

            “I—I thought they came out with the implant?” He was quite suddenly doing anything but ignore the casually waiting Tyrant, stepping back and locking eyes with it before whispering over to the woman, “Um. Um… How well do these things follow orders without the controller again?”

            “Stop pissing yourself, Carson. The 103s are perfectly loyal to Umbrella staff. They’ll take any commands in-person, but to have a mission they deploy for they need the implant to keep them in contact with command servers.” She scoffed at his ugly expression towards her and stepped up a mere foot from the T-103, “Without a mission, this thing should be pretty docile. Proto-Tyrants were like wild beasts—these guys are domesticated,” She had reached up with a balled-up fist, thumping solidly against its shoulder as high as she could reach. The Tyrant could barely feel it through the Limiter, “Well, I wouldn’t try to attack it or insult it, but otherwise this big boy is currently harmless. To us, at least.”

            The bioweapon eyed the woman quizzically as she continued past it and to a flat, sterilized slab on the other side of the row of growth tubes. The creature did not understand the purpose of the gesture, though it had concluded it was neither intended as aggression, nor was this pencil-thin figure at all capable of doing any damage to it.

            “Here it is,” she returned, hands now sheathed in latex, one index finger and thumb pinched around a tiny silvery cylinder. In her other hand was a surgical drill, which piqued the creature’s interest. The male researcher’s skin turned a shade paler.

            “Jesus, you’re just gonna—?”

            “Yes, it’s fine. Just pass me the screw when I need it.”

            “…Alright. It’s your funeral…” The creature broke eye contact with the point of the drill to meet her expression—a reserved, customer-service-type smile—as she spoke its designation again:

            “T-00, please bend down this way and hold still for a moment.”

            It did so, making a pointed glance again to the drill. She didn’t miss the wary observation it was making of the tool even while it was putting its head within easy reach of it, and the false smile half-faded.

            “Yes, this is going to involve some pain and minor tissue damage. It will be brief. Stay completely still.”

            The creature did nothing to acknowledge that it had understood the researcher’s explanation, aside from fixing its attentions to the floor between them and going rigidly still as instructed. The male researcher drew back further as the drill turned on with a high-pitched whine.

            Only seconds later, the new Tyrant learned in practice what “pain” even was as the tip of the drill bit into its temple. A fiery searing lit up across its entire scalp and travelled in a shock down through its body, but aside from a startled blink it obeyed. Even as a sickening grinding slowed the drill’s progress, sinking a deep pinhole into its skull. Its hearts pounded harder, faster, in an automatic process to kickstart its healing factor. Its gigantic lungs huffed in and out without any conscious decision. …Ow.

            Before the flesh could close over the portal into its brain cavity, the researcher jammed the open circuit side of the metal cylinder inside, giving a pronounced twist to ensure the active component was fully inside the entity’s cranium. With an urgent gesture, she summoned the cowering researcher back over to pass off a long, thin screw to her, which she wasted no time in inserting into its place and drilling again to push its point deep in until the top was flush with the protruding receiver. Firmly anchoring the device into the already-regenerating bone.

            “There. Done.” She stepped back, discarding the soiled drill onto a tray and peeling off her gloves before similarly ditching them. The bioweapon stood back up to its full height, letting go a deep exhale from its cavernous chest as the throbbing echoes of that new, awful sensation faded. One of its hands wandered up to the scene of the split-second surgery, trying to explore the wet trickle starting to run down through the deep grooves of its face. The tip of one finger had just made contact with its temple—and the sticky, deep-red blood—when a far worse jolt ripped through it, as if its spine had caught fire while being simultaneously frozen solid. The creature wasn’t ready for anything like this—caught off-guard, it jerked its hand away and visibly staggered, surprising itself further as something unknown happened in its throat by reflex. A strange tightening as air rushed out, and its own breathing made a noise, a sort of deep croak, vocal cords coarse and clunky and unused. This alone triggered another stiff flinch.

            “T-00, don’t attempt to touch the implant, or the deterrent will activate.” The researcher said, crossly striding away and beginning to make further notes on her clipboard. The Tyrant turned and gazed at her despite her now completely paying no attention to the nearly eight-foot bioweapon standing stunned after its brain had been cattle-prodded. “Carson, I’ve got to finish up here. You’ll be sure to take that to the holding area so QA can get to work, alright?”         

    “Ugh. Fine.” The Tyrant was presently aware of the other researcher taking a few timid steps towards it, snapping it out of the brain fog that the jolt had punished it with, “Come on, you heard the lady. Follow me.”

[villruu]

“Soulmates who are fated to kill each other” with Alex and Tim?

send me a reverse trope and MH & I'll write something for it

Went a bit overboard but the idea of soulmarks appearing only once it is clear you are going to end up killing each other/try to kill each other is so appealing.... Ough.

On AO3

⸻

The writing appears once Tim watches the tape he had taken from the Hooded Figure.

Tim had been curious about the tape, and it was one thing to distract him, one thing to make him not think about Jay (he had been so still…). Once he had gotten home, he had beelined towards his room, making sure to avoid the living room as best as he could.

The floor had still been littered with crumbled pages and Tim had gotten just a small glance of the dried black spot on the floor before he had hurried on.

The laptop struggles to turn on, and Tim waits impatiently, everything set up for the videos inside the tape to be transferred. Despite how bad Tim is with technology, this is a process he had gotten used to lately, helping with the channel.

The screen finally comes online, showing the factory desktop. Jay had borrowed his laptop so many times, to edit videos, to transform them, to upload them, that practically all folders in sight were made by Jay, carefully named with the date and possible entry.

Tim ignores them, focusing on just extracting the information on the tape. This laptop is a monument to Jay’s presence, and that is the last thing he needs right now (how long had he laid there, bleeding out, lonely?). 

After a few more minutes, Tim is left with a video. 

The thumbnail is an image of Brian, Tim would be able to recognize him anywhere. Worried and anxious, he double clicks on the file and watches it in silence.

Oh, he thinks, watching a young Brian joke and smile with a young Alex, That hoodie… That was Brian’s.

With shaking hands, Tim pauses the video. It’s the same hood, the same exact color, maybe a bit cleaner, but it’s the same.

(it’s the fucking same, it’s the same, oh my god, it was Brian, that was Brian, it was Brian, iT WAS BRIAN, BRIAN IS DEAD, HE IS DEAD, HE IS DEAD HE IS DEAD—)

That was at least three people that would be here if it wasn’t for Alex.

Three people. Three People.

(Three people, but what about Amy, about Sarah, about Seth, abOUT JESSICA—)

Alex Kralie is personally responsible for the death of Jay and Brian.

(it’s his fault, it’s his fault, it’s HIS IT’S HIS IT WASN’T HIM IT WAS ALEX ALEX ALEX-)

Tim startles, shouting, clutching his arm as a burning sensation overtakes him.

It hurts, it feels like liquid fire, like despair, it hurts so badly, and Tim can only dig his nails into his arm and try not to scream.

It burns oh so badly, and when Tim takes a lot, he is met with scratchy writing, shaky words etched into his skin as if someone had taken a carving knife to his flesh.

If there’s someone left, you have to kill them. And then yourself.

A soulmark.

Tim had learned about them during his childhood. One of the other patients had one, written in choppy letters and lopsided, wrapped around her neck and left shoulder. A Soulmark. He had heard the nurses, he knew what this meant, he knew, and yet, he touched the words cut into his arm with trembling fingers.

“Either I killed him, or he killed me,” She had told him once, smiling satisfied and bitter, “I hope you never get one kid, because the second the words appear, it is too late for either of you.”

Everyone knew that if your soulmark appeared it was because you would be either a murderer… Or the victim.

There was little to think about who it could be. It was too obvious, too easy. 

But Tim didn’t want to kill Alex. He didn’t want to kill him. Alex… Alex needed help, it wasn’t his fault, it was that thing, preying on him. Alex was innocent, Alex didn’t…

He didn’t want to kill Alex…

And, and he wouldn’t do it! He wouldn’t kill Alex, he wouldn’t. He refused.

Tim hadn’t survived this much just to let some stupid words define his fate. He would save Alex. He would save him and then Tim would move as far away as possible from this place and would never come back to Alabama and everything would be fine. He would move on and nothing bad would ever happen.

A month and a half later, Tim stared at a bleeding body and tried to not notice his own handwriting burned into Alex’s neck, looping around the bleeding throat like a tight choker.

You missed someone, it accused.

Tim hoped it had hurt when it appeared.

[sugatrapp]

「 A Night Out With Bryce 」

•─────────────•°•❀•°•─────────────•

Pairings: Bryce Tankthrust x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: The reader gets invited to dinner with Bryce.

Warnings: Non-specified gender of reader

AO3

Masterlist

Ko-Fi

•─────────────•°•❀•°•─────────────•

• When you agreed to a “simple, friendly dinner on the company’s dime” with Bryce, you knew that it would be the exact opposite. For one, she sent a limo to pick you up—not to drop you off at the restaurant or even have her already waiting in the limo. No, it took you straight to Bryce’s shoreside mansion.

• Her sheer beauty made up for it, however. Walking out of the glass doors was your boss clad in a skintight, spaghetti strap dress—blood red. Her auburn hair was pinned up with the right amount of messiness and she was adorned with diamond jewelry.

• You looked down at your best clothes with a critical eye, making sure there were no loose threads or wrinkles.

• “Bryce, you look ravishing as always,” you commented when she entered, trying to maintain your composure as the intoxicating scent of her perfume filled the air.

• “Don’t I?” She smirked, crossing one leg over the other. “I suppose you clean up nicely, as well.”

• She booked a reservation at the most expensive restaurant in town. You tried not to make eye contact with the other patrons, worried they would see right through to your lackluster bank account if they hadn’t already. The neatly arranged variety of silverware that cost more per piece than you were paid in a month sent further doubts in your mind.

• What the hell did Bryce see in you? She could have anyone at the drop of a dime, could have anyone with the most luxurious cars and homes, give her the universe if she asked for it. But you, you were only an executive assistant. You lived modestly in a home that your grandparents lived in before you were born. Your car was their hand-me-down from almost ten years ago. The outfit you wore hadn’t been worn since you got it to wear for your grandparents’ funerals.

• You were just…you.

• Naturally, you tried your best not make your discomfort known, instead taking notice of which fork was meant for what as to not look like a complete idiot.

• Everything was going well. Bryce wasn’t as bad as she seemed in the office. She was more real, gentler. You had more in common than you thought possible. Then, the soup was served.

• You and Bryce were so engrossed in conversation about your favorite artists that you hadn’t noticed the bowls of soup being placed on the table. She had moved to sit beside you a while ago; her proximity was enough to handicap your senses. Suddenly, her hand that reached towards yours on the table had knocked the bowl of scorching hot soup into your lap.

• You cursed loudly, face contorting into a pained grimace. She handed you a napkin which you took to frantically wipe away the scalding liquid. You excused yourself to the bathroom, ignoring the multiple pairs of eyes staring and Bryce as she tried to form the words to apologize.

• Wiping at the spot with a wet towel did nothing to remove the stain. You doubted it would come out. Hopefully the dry cleaners could do something about it.

• When you returned to the table, Bryce was wringing her hands, mood obviously fallen.

• “I’ve ruined everything, haven’t I?” She asked in a quiet voice, tone suggesting that she already knew the answer.

• “Of course not,” you reassured. Her head snapped up. “It was an accident. No big deal.”

• The corner of her mouth tilted up. She proposed that you two get out of there and you couldn’t have said yes fast enough. Since you hadn’t eaten much, you insisted that you stop at the local fast-food place for a combo meal. She looked disturbed that you wanted such junk, but after taking a hesitant bite from a fry you offered, she demanded that the driver go back around and order her a meal as well.

• You ended your adventure on the near abandoned top floor of a car garage. Both of you were sitting on the hood of the limo, eating your food and watching the city life below. You burped. Before you could excuse yourself, another loud burp reverberated through the night. Your eyes wide, you turned to Bryce who was cupping her mouth with a sheepish expression on her face. You burst into laughter. She didn’t know how to react at first, but eventually joined in with chuckles of her own.

• “You’re alright Tankthrust,” you said, nudging her shoulder with your own.

• Bryce hid a smile behind a sip from her cup, shuffling a little closer.

[safenshinesworld]

The Role of Cleaning Chemicals in Maintaining Hygiene and Safety

In today’s world, maintaining hygiene and cleanliness is more critical than ever. Cleaning chemicals play a pivotal role in ensuring environments—whether homes, offices, hospitals, or industrial facilities—are not only clean but also safe and healthy. These chemicals are designed to effectively remove dirt, germs, and other contaminants, contributing significantly to overall public health.

Best Cleaning chemicals products are provide by Safenshine: Visit for more details. Black Phenyl ,Dishwash Liquid , Floor Cleaner, etc

Importance of Proper Use

While cleaning chemicals are effective, their improper use can lead to health risks and environmental damage. It’s essential to follow manufacturer guidelines for dilution, application, and disposal. Overuse or incorrect mixtures can result in toxic fumes, skin irritation, or damage to surfaces.

Personal Protective Equipment (PPE): When using strong cleaning chemicals, it is crucial to wear appropriate PPE such as gloves, masks, and eye protection to prevent contact with skin and eyes and avoid inhaling harmful fumes.

Environmental Impact: Many cleaning chemicals, if not used or disposed of properly, can harm the environment. Some contain volatile organic compounds (VOCs) that contribute to air pollution, while others may contaminate water supplies. The shift towards eco-friendly and biodegradable cleaning products is gaining momentum as businesses and consumers become more environmentally conscious.

Innovations in Cleaning Chemicals

The cleaning industry is constantly evolving, with new formulations and technologies being developed to improve efficiency and reduce environmental impact. Some of the latest innovations include:

Eco-Friendly Cleaners: These are made from natural, biodegradable ingredients that are less harmful to the environment. They are free from harsh chemicals like phosphates and chlorine, making them safer for both users and the planet.

Enzymatic Cleaners: These use natural enzymes to break down organic matter such as food stains and pet messes, offering an effective and non-toxic cleaning solution.

Antimicrobial Coatings: After cleaning, some surfaces can be treated with antimicrobial coatings that provide long-lasting protection against germs and bacteria, reducing the frequency of cleaning needed.

Concentrated Formulas: To reduce packaging waste and carbon footprint, manufacturers are producing highly concentrated cleaning solutions that require less product for the same level of cleaning power.

Conclusion

Sanitizers are important tools in the effort to maintain cleanliness and safety in facilities. Understanding appropriate use, potential risks, and the importance of environmentally friendly alternatives can help individuals and businesses make informed choices. As the industry continues to innovate, future detergents will likely focus on balance and sustainability, ensuring if we clean up the environment we will not compromise the health of our planet.

[satyadevind]

[dollsonmain]

That Guy and I have straight up fights about the stinky washing machine.

My best guess as to why it stinks is that the drain water isn't all draining since the pipe goes straight up to a wall drain, and is instead falling back into the basin where it festers. It's a sulfur smell, so bacterial.

We do not use too much soap, nor any liquid fabric softener.

That Guy insists that it stinks no matter what, but that's not true.

My observations:

100% of the time that the lid is left closed and the laundry room door left closed, it stinks.

Sometimes when everything is left open it stinks.

100% of the time after That Guy does his laundry it stinks regardless of whether it's left closed or open.

When I do That Guy's laundry, though, it does not stink. I'll come back to that.

Sometimes after Son does his laundry it stinks.

Sometimes after I do the sheets (only thing that gets washed on hot) it stinks.

Rarely does it stink after I do my laundry.

It does not stink after I wash my cleaning cloths, even ones used in the bathroom or on stinky ponies.

I've been trying to figure out why it's inconsistent.

That Guy does his laundry once or twice a month, meaning it sits in his basket a long time before it's washed. He showers daily (except on the weekends) and changes clothes daily. One HUGE load. When he does laundry he'll put it in the wash in the early afternoon and then leave it there closed up until bed time when he puts it in the dryer. It'll sit in the dryer until someone else takes it out and gets dumped on his floor in the closet.

Son does his laundry once a week. He showers every other day and changes clothes every other day. A moderately-sized load. Son moves the laundry to the dryer immediately or very soon and then puts it away immediately when it's done in the dryer.

I do my laundry two or three times per week, shower every other day (or else my skin falls off), change clothes every other day. Small loads. Immediately from washer to dryer except hang-dry items, then from dryer to being put away.

When I do That Guy's laundry, it's small loads throughout the week, immediate processing.

The most obvious difference is the load size with second-most being how long between the garment being worn and it being washed, and third being how long it sits in either the washer or dryer before being moved.

A less obvious thing could be That Guy carrying some nasty bacteria which could have been what infected my kidneys. it's an atypical bacteria to find in the human body but commonly found in dirt and I have to be very careful of UTI, yeast infections, and bacterial vaginitis after sex with him because it's frequent. I was doing great after that month and a half of antibiotics but the first instance of sex with That Guy and it all went to hell again.

In all cases, running a disinfecting washing machine cleaner tab gets rid of the smell.

I would be agreeable to leaving the laundry room closed up if we had a vent fan installed in there that we could run but if it's all closed up then the machine can't dry out at all, which is that 100% chance of stinky when left closed.

-

Related-ish but when I pulled his laundry out of the washer yesterday, his pants were absolutely covered inside and out with white gunk. Some of it would rub off if I touched it but it was pretty stuck on everywhere. Maybe it was lint from his socks or t-shirts. He washes everything together. I re-washed his pants and the water was brown (this washing machine is VERY BAD at keeping the laundry inside balanced and I have to adjust it constantly). I don't think he's been doing a great job of actually getting his clothes clean.

[tipsycad147]

HEARD OF FLORIDA WATER? HERE'S WHY IT'S THE ONE THING YOUR RITUALS ARE MISSING

By Sarah Regan

If you've never heard of Florida water, let's get one thing out of the way first: No, this is not the water you'll find in the state of Florida. Rather, it's a special liquid that's believed to help enhance any number of rituals.

Here, we dive into what makes Florida water so potent, the best ways to use it, and how to make it yourself.

Florida water is an alcohol-based cologne first used in the early 1800s as a perfume. More recently, it has become a staple in mystical practices, explains the author of Revolutionary Witchcraft Sarah Lyons. It's primarily made by the company Murray & Lanman and carries a very citrusy, floral scent.

As Gabriela Herstik, author of Inner Witch and Bewitching the Elements, adds, it was given the name "Florida water" because the Fountain of Youth is said to be somewhere in Florida. She and Lyons both note that today, it's used for offerings, cleansing, and more and is popular among those who practice hoodoo, rootwork, and American folk magic.

Spiritual uses of Florida water

Here are 20 ways you can incorporate Florida water into your own practices, according to Herstik and Lyons.

Note: Florida water is flammable, so always be mindful when using it around candles.

Offer it to your ancestors or guides on your altar in a bowl.

Have some in a bowl nearby when communing with ancestors or guides and asking them for advice.

Place a small bowl of Florida water on your altar as an offering of self-love.

Wipe your mirror with diluted Florida water, and then do a self-love ritual of your choosing in front of the mirror.

Energetically cleanse yourself with Florida water by spraying it around you or putting a bit on your wrists.

Energetically (and literally) cleanse ritual tools like crystals with a bit of diluted Florida water to give them a refresh.

Use it to cleanse your altar and anything on it by diluting some with water in a spray bottle and spraying on your altar, then wiping down.

Use it in your usual floor cleaner to cleanse your home and wash away negative energy.

Fill a small bowl with spring water, Florida water, and a piece of a bluing square if you have one. Place the bowl by your front door to draw out negative energy from your home. Replace the water once a week.

Use it as the water element in rituals, along with a candle for fire, a crystal or rock for earth, and incense for air. (It's considered powerful to have all four elements present when doing rituals.)

Dilute Florida water with spring water in a spray bottle and use the spray to cleanse any room in your home.

Spray some diluted Florida water around you or your space before you begin a tarot reading.

Spray some diluted Florida water around you or your space before meditating.

Anoint yourself with a bit of Florida water (emphasis on just a bit!) if you want an energetic refresh or a boost of creativity and inspiration.

Use it alongside any spells or rituals for attracting love to increase the potency of the spell/ritual.

Wear a bit like perfume whenever you want protection.

Keep some in your workplace or on your desk to welcome positive energy and banish negativity.

Spray some diluted Florida water and patchouli essential oil on your cash for extra abundance.

Add a bit of Florida water to your laundry (especially bedding if you frequently have nightmares) for protection.

Place some in a bowl on your nightstand to more easily remember your dreams.

How to make it yourself

The beauty of Florida water is it's super simple to make yourself and very customizable based on your intention. Herstik and Lyons do recommend getting it from a credible source if you want the "real" thing, though they're not against making your own. Here's what you'll need:

Materials

1 cup vodka

1 orange peel (or lemon peel)

1 lemon peel

8 to 10 drops of your essential oil of choice. (Traditional oils for Florida water include lavender, lemon, bergamot, and ylang-ylang)

A handful or two of fresh herbs of your choosing (i.e., mint or basil)

1 cinnamon stick (optional)

Method

Combine all your ingredients into a glass container and seal it.

Let the mixture sit for a full lunar cycle (29 days).

Optional: Make it on the night of a full moon and let it charge under the moon's light. Even if you don't make it on the night of a full moon, you can still place it under moonlight when the next full moon comes around.

Where to buy Florida water

If you'd rather skip over the DIY and go with an already-made option, Lyons highly recommends buying it from people who practice hoodoo, rootwork, and American folk magic, "since those are the traditions that first began using it in magic."

Herstik adds that you're likely to find Florida water in your local Botanica stores or witch shops at very reasonable prices, so be sure to check there first.

The takeaway

Whether you're doing a ritual, cleansing your home, or making an offering to your ancestors, incorporating Florida water can be a way to make the ceremony even more powerful.

[collectionofshorts]

Putrescence

[Genre: Body horror]

What was that rancid smell?

Lila had been fussing over this stench that pervaded the house for nearly twenty years now. It smelled like a deer carcass left out on a hot summer’s day. It always clung to her hair and clothes, always lingered deep in her nostrils and at the back of her throat, but was at its worst within her home. For a long time she assumed it was her daughter. She was a rotten child from the start. Lila had tried her best with her, truly, but she kept misbehaving. No matter how much she was punished, no matter how many times she was locked up overnight in the basement or beaten with a belt she kept being awful. She plagued her mother's life for years with asinine mistakes and destructive clumsiness. She was inept at most everything, or perhaps just played that part to be irritating. She had vanished a few months ago– her final act of disrespect. Abandoning her mother without so much as a goodbye. Perhaps her rot had seeped into the walls during her time living there, perhaps it had taken such hold even her estrangement could not uproot it.

After another day of nonstop cleaning Lila finally packed up her supplies. She gathered up the tins of cleaner and collection of rags into her arms then traipsed over to the bucket that usually held them. She was about to toss everything in when something caught her eye in the low lamplight;  rivets of mop water from earlier in the day still strung themselves along the bottom edges of the bucket. She hissed about how the cloth she had used to dry the thing was worthless under her breath. She dropped the rest of the supplies roughly onto the table in a heap. Tins clinked together and glass clanged, normal sounds… bar the one crack-pop. Like a wound, the mound began to bleed. One of the glass bottles filled with soap and grit had finally given way under her less than delicate hand and broke.

“Worthless piece of shite!” She cursed through her clenched jaw. Hot spittle flew from between a gap in her front teeth. She snatched pieces of the pile away before the leaked soap could touch them and, like a toddler having a tantrum, threw the unsullied items into the bucket she had been so disgusted by prior. While grabbing things by the handful a stray shard of glass bit into her gnarled hand. She yelped and pulled back; there on her finger was a small cut. Her eyes bulged and her face reddened as her lips peeled back into a sneer. She was about to start screaming more expletives, but they caught in her throat as the cut began to weep.

Just a drop of black liquid. It couldn’t be blood, it was far too dark and viscous. That one droplet filled her nose with the awful smell that haunted her. Lila was shocked, her fingers began to shake. With her other hand she grabbed her digit and pressed as if more would come out like a paste from a tube. Nothing.

No, there had to be more, she could still smell it.

She slammed her hand against the table again and again, the supplies that remained bobbed and jumped with each hit. They slowly parted to reveal the shard of glass that sported just a pinch of black on its edge. Lila reached for it as gently as her pudgy hands could manage and brought it to cut finger. She bit her cheeks and sucked in a breath as she pressed it into her skin. For a moment nothing happened, but with just a little more force the slice swelled and birthed a single writhing maggot. It fell to the floor and more black pooled around where the glass was pressed.  

Lila let out a shrill scream as she stumbled and crashed to the floor with a thud. Her eyes watered from the sweet, but sick stench of decay that overtook the air. She was suddenly hyper aware of her body. She could feel that goo coursing through her. She could feel how hard her heart had to strain and squeeze to circulate it. She could feel wriggling against the underside of her skin. She could feel the little bugs that gnawed at and nested within her muscles and fat. She whimpered as her eyes slowly followed a dark, lumpy vein up her arm, past her sounder, and towards her chest. Every vein looked just as deformed. They inched like worms all over her body as globs of this unknown black mass traveled through her.

What had happened to her? She was normal before her daughter was born. Her daughter… Yes, her daughter must have caused this somehow. Lila did not know how, but that was the only explanation. Of course that rotten child would do this. Not visiting or replying to letters wasn’t enough, she had to do this too.

Lila's expression shifted to an enraged but determined one. However, when she grabbed the shard with both hands and pressed it to her swollen gut she shook like a leaf. Oh once she managed to clean up this putrid sludge within her core she would show her daughter hell for causing this. Lila was sure of it.

She plunged the glass shard into herself with a triumphant yell. Her soft flesh bubbled around the makeshift blade, but all it took was a flick of her wrist to quash her body’s final attempt to save itself. This time the black did not come out in just a drop. It erupted from her stomach with force, popping like a zit. A wet tearing sound was quickly overtaken by a heavy slosh as the gaping wound spouted out thick globby ropes of the rancid black like a geyser, it painted her walls and clothes in gelled splatterings and even more rice sized maggots. It was more than just corrupted blood that raced out of her quickly hollowing torso, but putrefied inners as well. Chunks of what once were organs, now blackened slime, spilled out onto the hardwood and caked themselves within every crease and crack. Slivers of bone slid out with the current, but were so grinded down they were indistinguishable from larva that came out alongside them. Even her fat and muscles had liquified and melded with everything else seamlessly as it decorated the room. It was a dramatic explosion of the woman's unrecognisable viscera, but was over almost as quick as it started.

A husk now, Lila was merely an emaciated pile of shriveled skin. She laid on the ground in a pool of the putrescent blackness she had hosted. With the pressure inside her once plump body gone, the explosive bleeding slowed to an effervescent ooze. It was all out of her now. She gnashed what remained of her gums, as her teeth had fallen away too,  and breathed more curses at her daughter for doing this as she faded— not once even considering perhaps Lila had rotted her insides herself.

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The Water-Saving and Environmental Benefits of Garden Hose Reels

As colder months get closer, we all prepare our homes and tools for the winter, but did you know that your vacuum cleaner also needs to get ready for the cold season? Storing your vacuum cleaner in the right way this winter will definitely make it in great condition, and it will be ready for use when the season changes.

If you have a standard vacuum or an even more versatile wet dry vacuum like the ones from Giraffe Tools, a little maintenance goes a long way. Cleaning, inspecting and storing your vacuum properly not only protects it against damage but guarantees that it works at its best for years to come.

In this step by step guide, we will go over simple and efficient winter storage tips to make sure your vacuum cleaner gets the care it deserves. Let's get started!

Key Steps to Prepare Your Vacuum Cleaner for Winter Storage

1. Clean the Hose and Attachments

First take out whatever debris or dust that may have collected on the hose of the vacuum and attachments. Thoroughly clean these parts with a clean soft brush or damp cloth. It prevents clogs and keeps the vacuum ready to go when you use it again.

2. Empty the Dustbin or Bag

It is important to empty the dustbin or replace the vacuum bag. For bagless models, rinse and dry the dustbin to prevent lingering odours or buildup. It also keeps out pests or bacteria from settling out when the vacuum is stored in a clean dustbin or bag.

3. Inspect for Damage

Look for cracks, worn-out parts or any other damage. Look at the hose, cord and attachments carefully. Taking care of these things now will keep your vacuum from bigger problems down the road and will keep it running as well as new when you need it the next time.

4. Store in a Dry, Cool Place

Pick a place where there are no humidity and temperature changes. However, a closet or dry, cool storage area is the best. If you place the vacuum in a garage or basement, make sure it’s not damp.

Why Proper Storage Extends Your Vacuum’s Lifespan

There are a few simple steps, or in other words, a few simple steps it's very easy to take to store your wet dry vacuum properly, and that can make a big difference both in performance and longevity. Here's why winter storage is essential for keeping your vacuum in top condition:

1. Maintains Suction Efficiency

Cleaning and storing your vacuum right can prevent clogs and buildup, which will reduce suction. The stored vacuum is ready to deliver peak performance when you need it when you store it right.

2. Saves Time and Effort Later

A vacuum in good condition doesn’t need any extra cleaning or repairs before it is used again. Taking a few simple steps now means you’ve ensured your vacuum is always ready to go, saving you time and effort.

3. Keeps It Looking and Working Like New

Regular maintenance and correct storage protect the vacuum against the exterior and internal mechanisms from wear. This will give you better value for your investment as your vacuum will look and perform like new for years.

4. Prevents Unpleasant Odors

Over time, unpleasant smells can linger if left dirt or dust in the vacuum. This helps prevent odours and ensures your device is fresh and ready to use when it's taken out of storage.

It's a small effort with a big reward for proper storage!

Why Choose Giraffe Tools for Your Cleaning Needs?

Giraffe Tools vacuum cleaners are built to last. Made with high quality materials, these machines can easily handle any cleaning tasks, from their wet-dry vacuum or any other models.

Versatility for Every Cleaning Job

Giraffe Tools' vacuum cleaners are versatile and can be used from garage floors to household carpets. The combination of their wet dry vacuum can deal with liquid spills and dry debris so it's the perfect all in one solution for cleaning a variety of challenges.

Space-Saving Design

Giraffe Tools is a vacuum that comes with retractable cords and wall-mounted features to save space and keep your storage areas premised and neat. The thoughtfulness of this design means your vacuum is always available to use without having to take up valuable space.

Exceptional Customer Support

You know that when you choose Giraffe Tools it offers free shipping, 2 year satisfaction guarantee, and 30-day returns guarantee. These benefits provide that peace of mind and a hassle free shopping experience.

Customer Trusted Everywhere

With years of successful handling of different cleaning needs, Giraffe Tools has built a reputation for being trusted for quality products like the wet-dry vacuum that delivers excellence in performance and convenience.

Giraffe Tools delivers quality and innovation whether you are in need of a reliable vacuum for your home, your garage, or the shop.

Protect Your Vacuum Cleaner and Keep It Ready for Action

Don't let winter wear on your cleaning tools. If you own a vacuum cleaner and take good care for it to make it last longer, then you should not have to worry about when you need it to go to work. If you want reliable and effective clean you can always trust Giraffe Tools high-performance vacuum cleaners, from the versatile wet dry vacuum to others.

Giraffe Tools offers a high quality product with free shipping, a 2 year satisfaction warranty and 30 day returns guarantee.

Visit Giraffe Tools to explore the innovative way cleaning can help make life easier, cleaner, and more organized. So don't wait—clean your vacuum the way it should be cleaned, take care of your vacuum properly and enjoy the easy cleaning all year round!