#wood soap dish

[clnclm]

[productsorganic]

Choosing the Best Wood for Your Soap Dish: A Comprehensive Guide

When it comes to selecting accessories for your bathroom, even the smallest details can make a significant difference. A soap dish not only serves a practical purpose by keeping your soap dry and lasting longer but also contributes to the overall aesthetic of your bathroom. Among the various materials available, wood stands out as a timeless choice that blends functionality with natural beauty.

In this comprehensive guide, we delve deep into the world of wooden soap dishes. We explore the benefits of using best wood soap dish, discuss the different types of wood available, and provide detailed insights into caring for your wooden soap dish to ensure its longevity. Whether you're drawn to a rustic, eco-friendly option or prefer a sleek, modern design, understanding the characteristics of various woods will empower you to make an informed decision.

Why Opt for Wood in Your Soap Dish?

Wood has been a preferred material for household items for centuries due to its durability, natural appeal, and sustainability. Here are several compelling reasons why choosing a wooden soap dish might be the right decision for your bathroom:

Natural Beauty: Wood adds warmth and elegance to any space. Each piece of wood has its own unique grain patterns and colors, making every soap dish a one-of-a-kind piece.

Durability: High-quality wood, properly maintained, can last for many years. It's naturally resistant to moisture and can withstand the humid conditions typically found in bathrooms.

Sustainability: Many types of wood used for soap dishes come from renewable sources. Opting for sustainably harvested or reclaimed wood supports responsible forestry practices.

Antimicrobial Properties: Certain types of wood, such as cedar and teak, contain natural oils and resins that possess antimicrobial properties. This helps keep your soap dish clean and hygienic.

Customization: Wood is versatile and can be crafted into various shapes and designs, allowing for a wide range of styles to match your bathroom decor.

Types of Wood Suitable for Soap Dishes

When choosing a wooden soap dish, it's crucial to consider the type of wood used. Different woods offer varying degrees of durability, moisture resistance, and aesthetic appeal. Here are some popular types of wood used for soap dishes:

1. Teak

Appearance: Teak is renowned for its rich golden-brown color and distinctive grain patterns. Properties: Extremely durable and naturally high in oils, which makes it resistant to moisture and rot. Benefits: Teak soap dishes are luxurious, long-lasting, and require minimal maintenance. They add a touch of elegance to any bathroom decor.

2. Bamboo

Appearance: Bamboo has a light color with a smooth, uniform texture. Properties: Bamboo is durable and has natural water-resistance properties. Benefits: Eco-friendly, fast-growing, and highly sustainable. It's resistant to mold and mildew, making it ideal for humid bathroom environments.

3. Cedar

Appearance: Cedar ranges in color from light reddish-brown to deep red with a pleasant aroma. Properties: Cedar contains natural oils that repel insects and resist moisture. Benefits: Cedar soap dishes are naturally antimicrobial, aromatic, and known for their durability and longevity.

4. Maple

Appearance: Maple is light-colored with a fine, uniform grain. Properties: Hardwood that is durable and has good resistance to moisture. Benefits: Maple soap dishes have an elegant appearance, are easy to maintain, and complement various bathroom styles.

5. Pine

Appearance: Pine is light-colored with prominent knots and a rustic appearance. Properties: Softwood that requires more maintenance but can be treated to enhance durability. Benefits: Pine soap dishes are affordable, readily available, and add a rustic charm to your bathroom decor.

Choosing the Right Wood for Your Needs

Selecting the best wood for your soap dish depends on several factors:

Moisture Resistance: Opt for woods like teak and cedar that have natural oils and resins providing resistance to moisture, preventing warping and extending the lifespan of your soap dish.

Aesthetic Preferences: Choose a wood that complements your bathroom decor. Light-colored woods like bamboo and maple offer a modern and clean look, while darker woods like teak and walnut add a touch of sophistication.

Maintenance Requirements: Consider how much upkeep you're willing to do. Cedar and teak require minimal maintenance due to their natural properties, while woods like pine may need more frequent care to maintain their appearance and durability.

Environmental Impact: Choose soap dishes made from sustainably sourced wood to minimize environmental impact. Look for certifications such as FSC (Forest Stewardship Council) to ensure responsible forestry practices.

Caring for Your Wooden Soap Dish

To ensure your wooden soap dish remains in excellent condition, follow these care tips:

Keep It Dry: After each use, wipe down your soap dish with a dry cloth to remove any excess moisture. This prevents water from sitting on the wood and causing damage over time.

Allow for Air Circulation: Place your soap dish in a well-ventilated area of your bathroom to allow air to circulate around it. This helps prevent mold and mildew from forming.

Avoid Direct Water Contact: To prolong the life of your soap dish, avoid placing it in direct contact with water or leaving it under running water. This can cause the wood to swell and potentially warp.

Apply Wood Treatment: Depending on the type of wood, periodically apply a thin layer of mineral oil, beeswax, or a specialized wood conditioner to maintain its finish and water resistance. This also helps to prevent drying and cracking of the wood.

Clean Regularly: Use a mild soap solution and a soft brush to gently clean your soap dish if it accumulates dirt or soap residue. Avoid harsh chemicals or abrasive cleaners that can damage the wood's surface.

Conclusion

Choosing the best wood for your soap dish involves considering factors such as durability, moisture resistance, aesthetic appeal, maintenance requirements, and environmental impact. Whether you prefer the natural elegance of teak, the eco-friendliness of bamboo, or the rustic charm of cedar, each type of wood offers unique benefits that can enhance your bathroom experience.

By understanding the properties of different woods and following proper care techniques, you can enjoy a functional and aesthetically pleasing addition to your bathroom decor. Invest in a high-quality wooden soap dish today to elevate your daily routine with a touch of natural beauty and sustainability. Embrace the timeless appeal of wood and transform your bathroom into a sanctuary of style and functionality.

[taurusdesign]

Judith Kitchen

Sul sul everyone!

I did it! Finally! It's been quite a ride. In addition to the difficulty of making kitchen, the hot weather is killing me and my computer. It's hot as hell!

When I shared the WIP, I said that "The texturing would end next week." But as you can imagine, it didn't happen that way. The most difficult part of making a kitchen is definitely texturing. Because every part needs to look like a perfect whole. And if there are too many swatches, it becomes more difficult. But I think I did it.

I told there were too many swatches. That's why I divided the kitchen cabinets and counters into three. (As Marble, Wood and Plaster counter tops.) In order to be more easily distinguished in the catalog, they are shown with different swatches as follows.

Marble Top

Wooden Top

Plaster Top

The items included in the set are listed below. (Total of 56 items and Base Game compatible)

Kitchen Counter v1 (3 different tops)

Kitchen Counter v2 (3 different tops)

Kitchen Island v1 (3 different tops)

Kitchen Island v2 (3 different tops)

Cabinets v1 (3 different tops)

Cabinets v2 (3 different tops)

Appliance Cabinets (3 different tops)

Tall Cabinets v1 (3 different tops)

Tall Cabinets v2 (3 different tops)

Wall Stove Hood

Fridge 1-Tile

Fridge 2-Tiles

Stove

High-oven (Dream Home Decorator Game Pack Required)

Microwave

Built-in Oven*

Cooktop

Dishwasher*

Ceiling Stove Hood (3 heights)

Marble Sink

Metal Sink

Bar Stool

Wide plates

Coffe cups

Water glasses

Oval plates

Medium plates

Saucers

Bowls

Pan

Soup pot

Dish rack

Stock pot

Soap tray

PUBLIC RELEASE AUGUST 23, 2024

CHECK IT OUT!

I hope you like it!

Love you all! ❤️❤️❤️

[tame-the-lion-writes]

cat shifter reader x task force 141

(An AU to the AU--based on an ask and the results of this poll.)

No more guns a-blazing or cruel glory. The 141 had their time in the military; now, it was time to slow down.

Of course, when one sticks with the same people for half their life, through thick and thin, there is no going back. The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb--and the 141 had spilled enough blood together that it practically ran through each others veins. They were inseparable, bound in both trauma and trust, and to part would dissolve the only stability they'd shared. Snip away red strings wrought both in shared drinks and on the battlefield.

What they didn't expect was the addition of you.

In deciding to retire, the 141 bought an old farm in the backcountry. A weary, rickety place that was practically begging for renovations. The busy work gave them something to do with already-rough hands, so they didn't mind--taking care of the animals, replacing the rotting wood, and updating the plumbing simply meant they could make the place their own. And after the house was fixed up, they got to updating the barn, fixing up a chicken coop, installing new fencing, etc.

It was also during these renovations that they got to know the stray cat who'd been living in the barn attic.

Feral--they first thought. Plenty of farm cats were, and the place had been long unlived-in that they believed no one could have socialized or cared for her. Not to mention that she'd been so riled up with them around; hissing from behind walls, or above while balancing on the beams. Jutting her paws out and trying to scratch them while they worked. They always knew where she was by the jingle of the bell around her neck, tied with a soft silk ribbon as though she were someone's pet let loose. Left on the roadside maybe, and for that, they didn't blame her.

But for the most part, she only occupied the second floor of the barn, and she kept the place free of rats and mice. They couldn't have those running around, so for the most part, they stayed out of her way. And she learned to stay out of theirs.

Until she got sick.

"Haven't seen the kit in a while," Gaz finally spoke, poking at the leftover stew in his bowl. It was already dinner when everyone was winding down for the night, and their beloved foe had been missing for three days. "I'm getting worried."

"I'm sure she's fine," Soap reassured him, shoveling another spoonful in his mouth. "Maybe ran off to the woods or somethin'."

"But it's been rainin' plenty lately," Gaz pressed. "You'd think she'd hole up in the attic per usual."

"We can check in the morning," Price sighed, adjusting himself in his seat. "'Sides, wouldn't do any good to be missin' a barn cat--"

"Tonight."

Soap lifts his head to squint over at the man by the sink. "Didn't take ya for a cat person, LT."

"Wanna make sure the mangy thing ain't dead." Ghost drops his dishes with an ceremonial clink-clink-clink. "Would stink up the place."

But when they finally made their way up the sketchy ladder to the barn attic, and they finally pushed aside all the dusty boxes and rusty equipment, what they found wasn't a cat but a young woman--face red with fever and tangled deeply, restlessly, in worn blankets and stolen clothes. Unknown and without ID--save for the bell around her neck, tied with a soft silk ribbon.

_

Bonus Thoughts:

It's quickly determined that you're only suffering from a regular cold, but on the verge of winter, the barn is no place to stay warm. Hence a quiet moment of deliberation between the boys, standing around, not knowing what to do. Also not knowing if their first assumption--that this is their fussy barn cat--is possible. In any case, they can't just leave you here.

Ghost is relegated the duty of carrying you down the very sketchy ladder (as he is with carrying most things). But not before Price wraps you up like a burrito, in case you wake up and decide to try and scratch again.

"'Mangy thing,' huh, LT?"

"Hope you know she's gettin' your bed."

[catholicloveblog]

Bathroom 3/4 Bath Inspiration for a mid-sized traditional alcove shower remodel with 3/4-inch green tile, marble flooring, green cabinets, green walls, a console sink, recessed-panel cabinets, and a two-piece toilet.

[howscandinavianofme]

Bathroom - Contemporary Bathroom Tub/shower combo - mid-sized contemporary 3/4 beige tile and stone tile tub/shower combo idea with a vessel sink, furniture-like cabinets, light wood cabinets, granite countertops, a two-piece toilet and white walls

[belle-regali-naturale]

Coconut Coir Soap Rest - Belle Regali Naturale

Coconut soap is a type of soap that is made using coconut oil, which is derived from the meat of mature coconuts. Coconut oil has natural antimicrobial and moisturising properties, which makes it a popular ingredient in soap making.

As for the word “rest,” it could refer to several things depending on the context. Perhaps you’re asking if coconut soap needs to “rest” or cure for a certain amount of time before it can be used, which is a common practise in soap making. Or maybe you’re asking if using coconut soap can help you feel more rested or relaxed, which could be possible given the soothing properties of coconut oil.

This type of coconut coir soap restis designed to keep your soap dry in between uses, which can help your soap bar last longer and prevent it from becoming soggy. The soap rest is made of 100% biodegradable and compostable coconut fibre, which means it is environmentally friendly and can be disposed of without harming the planet.

The coconut fiber pad is coarser and thicker than a standard Safix scrub pad, which helps it effectively absorb excess water and allow air to circulate around the soap bar. To clean the soap dish, you can simply rinse it with water and reuse it again and again.

Overall, a coconut coir soap restis a great option for anyone looking to reduce waste and extend the life of their natural soap bars.

Using a soap rest made of coconut fibre is an environmentally friendly and effective way to keep your soap bar dry between uses. The coarser and thicker texture of the coconut fiber pad helps absorb excess water and allows air to circulate around the soap bar, which can prevent it from becoming soggy and help it last longer.

In addition, the fact that the rest of the soap is made of 100% biodegradable and compostable coconut fibre means that it is a sustainable and eco-friendly option. And because it can be easily rinsed clean and reused, it is also a cost-effective choice that can help reduce waste.

[revorocketnails]

3/4 Bath Phoenix Mid-sized mountain style 3/4 brown tile and ceramic tile light wood floor and brown floor bathroom photo with shaker cabinets, medium tone wood cabinets, a two-piece toilet, beige walls, an undermount sink, solid surface countertops and brown countertops

[michelepoehler]

Bathroom in San Francisco

[vivwritescrappythings]

take it all

toxic!simon riley x afab!reader

You meet Simon at a pub and go home with him.

an: i imagine this as after Soap’s death (sorry if this is a spoiler) and Ghost is trying to cope the best way he can. also i personally think Ghost is bi, sue me.

part 2

tw: smut!, toxic simon, afab and fem reader, drinking, mild dubcon (they were both drinking), biting, dry humping, oral m!receiving, cum play (in not a fun way), not proofread and bad writing.

word count: 2.6k

masterlist

MDNI!

—

Simon wanted nothing to do with you at first. He was at a pub on university night and you’d been dared to go up to the man sulking at the edge of the bar by your friends. You accepted with a nervous giggle, going through the methodical motions of fixing your hair and adjusting your top and making sure you had nothing stuck in your teeth before you approached.

You didn’t even get to open your mouth before he grumbled at you. “Not interested.” He didn’t even bother to look your direction, gulping down his Guinness like it was water and flagging down the bartender for another. It was hard to hold your scoff, your brows furrowing in indignation.

“Arrogant of you to assume I was coming over here to talk to you,” you snapped, arms crossing over your chest and your posture straightening. The force of your glare could’ve seared a hole in the side of his head as you focused on the ridge of his nose. It looked like it had been broken in the past. His fair skin was littered with scars that varied from shiny white tissue to an irritated red hue.

That made one side of his mouth lift into a smirk, dark brown eyes glancing at you out of the corners. It was a look you promptly ignored. You moved to the stool on his other side, sliding onto it and ordering another drink. The man next to you slid the bartender a bill before you had the chance to grab your wallet out of your purse. A form of olive branch, you assumed.

Somehow the night devolved into more drinks and a clumsy, vague introduction before you were following Simon back to his home. He lived walking distance away, his thick fingers circled around your wrist like a bracelet—or a shackle. He didn’t slow his stride for you, making you nearly jog along with him until he got you to his doorstep.

It was a whirlwind. He caged you against the front door, forearms against the painted wood above your head as his face dropped into your shoulder. His lips sucked and nipped at your neck like a madman, scraping his teeth over your skin in a way that sent shivers down your spine.

“M’not a good guy, don’t want nothin’ more than a shag,” he mumbled into your throat. You found yourself nodding despite the fact that you firmly didn’t believe in one night stands. And you didn’t believe in going home with random men you met at bars. Simon had a way to convince you into things without even trying.

Your mouth sought his, desperate for a touch of his lips when his calloused fingers gripped your chin, turning your face away from him as he continued to pin you to his front door. “No kissin’,” he muttered against the curve of your shoulder in a way that didn’t leave any room for negotiation. You felt dizzy as you looked at the lights in the building across the street, your eyelids fluttering as his teeth dug into a sensitive spot on your neck.

“You gonna let me inside or try and screw me out here on your front step?” you asked, your voice sounding more strained than you would’ve liked. You could already feel how soaked your panties were getting, Simon’s thick thigh was shoved between yours—you wouldn’t be surprised if there was already a spot forming on his dark jeans.

He barked a harsh laugh against your ear, one large hand cupping the curve of your waist while the other produced a sparse key ring from his back pocket. It only took a bit of fumbling to thread it into the door. Opening it was a precise and smooth motion, keys getting dropped in a dish near the door and his hand swooping up to flick on the light in practiced moves.

The neatness of the space added a check mark to the box you’d already suspected he fit into: military—or serial killer. Only necessities were present, empty walls aside from the coat hooks near the door and the pot rack in the kitchen. It should’ve made you nervous, should’ve set off some sort of alarm bells. But Simon’s hands were all over you the instant the door clicked shut and he didn’t give you a second to breathe. He yanked the pretty denim jacket off your shoulders smoothly, hanging it up before crowding you further inside like a cattle dog nipping at your ankles.

Before you knew it, you were perched on his lap on the black leather couch and your purse was discarded on the coffee table. Simon’s hands found their way to your hips, rocking you against him as you planted sloppy, wet kisses on the wide column of his throat. He was so solid and warm beneath you, the skirt you were wearing pooling on his couch as the thin fabric of your panties continued to catch against the zipper of his jeans.

Your hips rolled against his as you desperately sought the friction. Pretty, soft moans fanned against the scarred, tattooed skin of Simon’s neck as your hands pressed against his broad, barrel chest for some stability. A heartbeat was already pounding between your legs, your clit nudging against the hard ridge of his cock with each glide of your pelvis against his. His fingers dug into the fat of your hips so hard that you were sure there would be bruises in the morning.

It wouldn’t take you much more to come, as pathetically fast as that was. The hazy smell of him had your chest bound in knots, dirt and cigarette smoke and the sharpness of his citrus-scented soap. You sucked a mark behind his ear, laving your tongue over it to soothe the reddened skin.

You were on the edge of it, mewling and twisting his shirt in your fingers as electricity raced up and down your spine. The alcohol made you feel so warm, your cheeks heated and eyes partially lidded. You didn’t know if it was the booze or the company or both, but everything was buzzing and it made you almost too sensitive.

Simon ripped you from the precipice before you could enjoy the sweet release. His hand closed around your throat and the other locked on your waist, stilling you on his lap. “No!” you yelped, your palm hitting his chest as your brows pinched together. The sound was strangled, his calloused fingers squeezing just enough to tighten your windpipe without truly choking you.

His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide as he looked up at you on your perch. “You’re not comin’ ‘til you use that pretty mouth of yours,” Simon grunted, manhandling you until you were on your knees between his legs. Again, there was no space for negotiation or protest.

You swallowed thickly, still reeling from your orgasm being ripped away so suddenly. The blistering euphoria fell away from you, wax melting from its feathers as it plummeted back to the earth and left you cold.

You watched Simon’s hands begin to undo his belt, your mouth going dry. His hands were divine, huge and veined along the backs of them. Nails were bitten to the quick and clean, thick and calloused fingers moving deftly to open his belt and unbutton his jeans. There were lines of tattoos on his wrists, faded and feathered from age.

You could’ve been a deer caught in the headlights with how you were staring, eyes wide and your weight back on your heels. If another man acted like Simon was, you would’ve scoffed before picking yourself up off the floor and storming out of the apartment. But there was something about him that made you stay, kneeling obediently as he reached into his blue and gray checkered boxers and pulled himself out.

Simon had a pretty cock, to say the least. It was thick and curved a little to the right. Your gaze traced a thick vein up the length of it, making you swallow. His tip was a flushed red, almost purple. It made you wonder when the last time he came was. You were willing to throw away years of promising yourself that you would never let a guy use you again just to get your mouth on a cock like that, saliva pooling on your tongue.

You didn’t make him wait long, your hands settling on his thighs as you moved forward to take the hot tip of it into your mouth. It tasted like salt and clean skin, your tongue swirling around the head of his cock. You were rewarded with a groan, his hands tightening into fists on either side of your head.

Letting out a breath through your nose, you sucked as much of his cock into your mouth as you could. Lips tucked over teeth and cheeks hollowed out, you always felt like you were in your element when you were giving head. There was something about the ability to bring a man to his knees with just your mouth and hands that delighted you, it made you feel like you had the power.

Simon was the same as the rest. He grunted pretty for you when you wrapped a hand around the base of his cock, moving it in tandem with your mouth. You couldn’t fit him all without choking, drool and spittle already leaking from the edges of your mouth and making the entirety of his shaft a slick mess. It was all over your lips and jaw, your foundation starting to rub away in places and your lip gloss smeared across his shaft and on your palm.

You had to take breaks to breathe, jerking him off as you sucked in desperate breaths. It was the only time you looked up at him, his dark brown eyes looking through you. He made all the right sounds, the grunts and the whimpers that he didn’t mean to let out. But he looked at you like you weren’t quite there, weren’t quite real.

It was the last time you looked up at him, your gut twisting in a way that you didn’t like but could blame on the alcohol.

Simon’s hand fitted to the curve of your jaw, three fingers stretching to the nape of your neck as he guided your mouth back to his cock. He bucked his hips up to cram more of himself down your throat, the hand on the nape of your neck keeping you in place.

His cock cut your airways off with every thrust, making your lungs burn. You focused on sucking in short breaths through your nose in between, your hands clenching against the hard muscle of Simon’s thighs. It was then your suspicions were confirmed, definitely military. There was no room for mercy in the palm of his hand as it molded to the top of your spine.

You choked and spluttered, your saliva turning viscous as his dick churned your throat. Tears began to prick at the corners of your eyes. The soft sound of him sighing met your ears, a hushed “fuck” muttered under his breath.

His eyes were shut tight, his head resting on the back of the couch as he fucked up into your throat. It almost hurt to turn your gaze that far up, but you felt too unmoored—you needed to see him. His free hand was wrapped around what looked to be two sets of dog tags around his neck, holding them so tight his knuckles turned white. You didn’t even see them earlier, they must have been tucked into his shirt.

Simon’s curses became louder, his hand squeezing around the back of your neck and giving you no escape. The laminate wood floor was imprinting its pattern into your knees, the caps of them aching. You still didn’t even try to get him to let you up, working on relaxing your jaw and throat and wanting to take it all. Something about him made you all too complacent, leaving you slack-jawed for him to fuck into like a fleshlight.

His nails dug into the skin behind your ear as he pushed you down all the way, your nose pressed firmly into the soft, curly blonde hairs across his pubic bone. He was so hot and heavy in your throat that it made you want to beg him to ruin you. Your jaw and throat burned, but you melted into the pain as it licked at you.

“Gonna fuckin’ come.” The words were rushed and low as they spilled from Simon’s mouth. You felt battered and bruised, your throat raw and aching. He took from you, and continued to, grinding his hips against your face to move his cock millimeters deeper into your throat. You swallowed obediently to milk his shaft, hearing him moan out a disgruntled name. Johnny? Maybe? You’d have to ask to know, your own heart pounding in your ears muffling the rest.

The pleasure of satisfaction still bloomed in you at a job well done, but it mixed with something nauseating when you realized he was thinking of someone else the whole time.

Simon’s cock pulsed like a wound against your tongue when he came, liquid pleasure like molten lava spilling down your throat with each breathless groan. “That’s it, take it all.” It didn't feel like praise anymore, his blunt nails scratching at the back of your neck combined with his grunts making you feel like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over you.

You didn’t swallow a drop, eyes screwed shut as he dumped rope after rope of come into your throat. Swallowing would’ve been the good thing to do, the obedient thing. But there was so much, some of it spilling out the seam your lips made and disappearing into the scratch of his blonde curls. It was insane, you wondered for the second time how long it had been since he even jerked off.

His hand dropped off you, letting you pull away in an instant. You thought to run to the bathroom or kitchen and spit into the sink, the salty white liquid dripping from the corner of your mouth starting to taste vile on your tongue. You just wanted to get rid of it like the memory of this night.

Simon was already tucking himself away, leaving you sitting like an idiot between his legs. You knew a half-assed apology was next, a pathetic fake compliment about how your mouth felt too good and made him blow his load early. It wasn’t his fault, it was yours. But sorry, no shag tonight.

Rose colored glasses were exchanged for red ones as his dark brown eyes met yours. They were blank, dark rings beneath them almost making him look like a corpse. He didn’t even have the good manners to pretend to be sheepish, his gaze settling on you like he’s seeing you for the first time.

You couldn’t even process what you were doing before you spat the mouthfuls of his come onto his black long-sleeve shirt. The white liquid was frothy from being mixed with your saliva, viscous as it landed on the center of his sternum and splattered. You spat again for good measure, making sure it landed on the silver dog tags before you wiped your mouth on your sleeve.

“Asshole,” you seethed, rolling yourself to your feet before you could even take in his surprised expression. Or the way the corner of his scarred, chewed up mouth twitched like he was going to smile. There was a flicker of recognition in his eye, like you reminded him of someone.

“Next time you just need to come, how about you call that Johnny fella or get a goddamn toy or something,” you hissed, not bothering to look at Simon as you stormed toward the door. You had the good sense to grab your purse, rummaging through it to find some gum as you saw yourself out. The slam of his front door was deafening, leaving the two of you in silence on either side of it.

You didn't realize you forgot your jacket hanging neatly on the hook next to his door until you woke up in the morning.

[icarusredwings]

What things smell like according to Logan Howlett/ The Wolverine. A series of smell based headcanons. Do with these whatever you want :)

People:

Ororo: burnt marshmellows, rain, chunky chocolate chip cookies, protien shakes, spansih rice, chillies, and cocoa butter. She always smells great.

Scott: cucumber shampoo, the remaints of a bonfire the next day, fresh dry cleaning, axe shower gel, lavender sheets

Jean: caramel latte, lavender sheets, vanilla spiced chai, books, mint ice cream, fruit smoothies, stinky hair product, lemon poppy seed muffins, sassafras

Hank: Books, sanatizer, various chemicals, a very specifc fur dander, kinda musky but in a 'im covered in fur and sweaty' kind of way.

Rouge: "Dolly Parton", brick and concrete dust, cherry blossoms body spray, freshly engraved wood, strawberries and milk conditioner, spicy gaucamole and freshly sizzled sausages.

Gambit: tv static, a fresh deck of cards at the casino, spicy jumbo, gin, lime jello, hair gel, "suprisingly good actually"

Kurt: brimstone, smoke from franckinsense, myrrh, a less smelling dander then hank, Holy chrism oil (olive oil and Balsam made by catholic priests), metal, and blue raspberry. Fur/ beard pomade sometimes for special ocassions.

Morph: even when changed he can smell is sandlewood shampoo, he smells like how "Jack Outta smell", latex, pine and cedar, clear nail polish, "that ugly quilt that your grandma kept on the back of her couch that was the warmest, softest thing you've ever slept with."

Charles: Old man fart, metal, chalk, shoe polish, nutmeg, wool, "a trusting hug", books, mahogany, expensive champagne.

Laura: "teen spirit", a shitty cheap "girl power" deodorant that doesn't do well hiding the sweat, apples and peaches, kinda woodsy.

Wade: Cancer, gun smoke, citrus dish soap, blood, oranges, taco sauce, infected skin once in awhile, red dye 40, slight over cooked and crispy apple pie, sugary cereal

Puppins: wet dog, dog dander, oatmeal senstive skin puppy shampoo, chicken, "the dirtest trash she can find to roll in on her walk"

Althea: Old lady, way too strong perfumes, butter biscuits, tea, peppermint candies, more cocaine, "baby powder", lanvender linens, cotton and daisy's Landry detergent.

Feelings/emotions:

Big/serious lies: smell like Gasoline and salty sand near the sea.

Small fibs/playful/ teasing lies: smell like Anise

Lies with decent intentions/are bent truths: smell like honey

Those two are easily mixed up.

Innocent (the person truly believes it. Ex. A child saying dinos are real) truth: smells like thick vanilla creamer.

Filling, whole truths (the person knows for a fact its a truth) smells: like fresh baked rolls/buns

Cancer smells vary like: urine, nail polish remover, some people have a pungent semi sweet smell like rotting fruit, and tar is another smell, depending on which part of the body. If already in late stages, one can smell like cadavers. Even spicy almost.

Pregnant people vary in scent but he can smell the rise of different hormones: Some hormones sweeter then other. If you asked him he would say cinnamon or dying roses. If you're later in your term the scents are more soft like lotion or custard. Lemon ussually.

Serotonin; cheese, lemon cakes, fruity, a bit light, and flakey like a pastry. Marshmellow fluff.

Dopamine; sweet fresh coffee, doritos(?), cocaine. Don't ask why he knows what cocaine smells like. He was alive during coke cocaine.

Endorphins; Sweaty Sex, mint, dark chocolate, violets, chemicals, varies by persons pheromones

Oxytocin; "playful cherries", freshly washed cotton pillows, the warmth of a bath, skin on skin hugs, strawberries

Joy/relaxation/relief: Jasmine, vanilla sugar cookies, fresh soup.

Anger/disapproval/hurt: smoke, the back end of a cigarette, spicy curry, iron, blood, "spoiled raw chicken left out too long"

Fear/excitment/anxiousness: Adrenaline smells like oil, paint, salty pretzels almost.

Tears: Oceans, lillies, fresh water lakes

[clnclm]

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[sweet-as-an-angel]

The One where Soap finds Himself in an ✨ Awkward ✨Situation. [ Ghost x Reader ]

Warnings: Suggestive Content, Soap Being Confused, Occasional Profanity, No Pronouns used for Reader Except for ‘You’.

Summary: Hiding out at your house, the 141 are settling in for the evening. Soap ends up hearing something he’s pretty sure he shouldn’t have on his way to the bathroom. But why can’t he seem to stop listening ?

“Gah! Fuck–”

The voice splintering through the door made Soap jump – near caused him to soil his favourite pair of jeans as it rumbled through the wood, practically taking it off its hinges with how the nails shuddered in their slots. The voice was baritone, deep. Grizzled. A carnality slumbered in its tone, rearing its waking head.

Ghost.

“Shh, Simon ! You’re going to get us caught !”

Yours followed soon after, a reprimand Johnny would never dream of dishing to the most lethal man he’s ever known. And yet here you were, doing God-knows-what, speaking to him as if you were in control.

When all went quiet again, just for a moment, Soap stopped and wondered if it had all been a hallucination. One second, then two. A low moan slipped beneath the door. Johnny jumped.

He was just going to walk away. Truly, he was ! He – and the rest of the 141 – saw how much chemistry – history – you and Ghost shared. Although, he’d just never imagined you’d be sharing it with the rest of the house, too. 

Well, if Simon’s volume was anything to go by.

Johnny’s eyes drifted from the end of the hallway – where the beloved bathroom was – to the door beside him. He bit his lip, heart beating, still recovering from the fright. His curiosity was far from piqued – it shot through the bloody roof and left an impromptu skylight in its wake. And as imaginary sunlight filtered in through the hole, Johnny begged that divine intervention would tear him away from the scene unfolding beside him so he wouldn’t have to.

“God, don’t stop,” came Simon’s pleading tone, any harshness that was custom to it having melted away. Soap, against all better judgement and higher power, inched closer to the door. He cast a glance over his shoulder, once, twice. Nobody lurked behind. His ear was almost pressed to the wood. He could hear Simon panting, hear you humming as you did…something.

“I won’t – not until you’re finished.” There was little to be heard in the way of shame in your voice, especially in your gentle whisper: “I promise.” Soap swallowed thickly, then, blinking, began rubbing his ears. He couldn’t be hearing this right. He just couldn’t !

Only, when he had thoroughly cleared the imaginary poison from his ears, the issue remained.

“Shit–! That’s it, right there–”

“God, you’re so stiff, Simon. What have you been doing while you were away ?” There was almost a purr to your voice. Ghost only let out a moan as his response, muffled by what Johnny could only guess were pillows.

Why am I still here?! he all but screamed, remembering that he was no Pinocchio, trapped on this stage, bound by strings. He could have been a free man if he so wished. And trust, he did. So why was it that, when he went to walk away, to scour his ears with bleach, to finally embark upon his uninterrupted journey to the bathroom, that he found himself glued in place ?

Perhaps it was the primal instinct to know all that there is to know, to discern danger wherever it lay. Or, perhaps, he was so eneamoured with the idea of whatever could be happening on the other side of this door – Ghost being human for a change – that he couldn’t bring himself to pass up the opportunity to see him so…vulnerable.

That sounded about right.

“(Y/N),” Ghost’s voice husked, no longer dampened, restricted, by an unknown force. He groaned, long and unfiltered. The way he spoke your name was almost in the tone of love, its softest and most carnal form, as if tasting the gradient of your syllables, vowels and consonants upon his tongue. He all but growled. You gasped.

“(Y/N), you’re so close–”

“You want it there, Simon ?” You didn’t miss a beat. Soap’s breath caught in his throat. He looked over his shoulder to the imaginary camera filming his ordeal.

“Yes, yes, God – yes–”

“Doing so well for me, Si,” you said, soft and encouraging. Ghost’s breathing was at its heaviest now, heaving breaths as if they were bricks, building a tower from which he may never come down. A high he will never beat.

“We’re almost there,” you told him, to which he only let out a thick, strangled noise, bulging beneath invisible chains as he tried to conceal it. His moans only grew longer and more frequent, his jaw presumably dropping open to let them pass when he couldn’t hold them back any longer.

Soap began to wring his hands, thankful for the lack of a keyhole in the door so to spare him the intrusive desire to spy on the situation visually, too. Trapped in his own daze, his hurried, sweating, anxious contemplation was torn open by a sound so sharp and brilliant he never wanted to hear it again.

Ghost moaned.

Straight-up howled, roared, as he came to an end. 

Soap’s soul clung to his body as the sheer calamity Ghost’s booming voice brought with it shook the very ground he stood on. Johnny’s hands flew to his racing heart, trying to catch it as it jumped up his throat.

Simon’s voice tapered, muffled after most likely burying his face into a pillow. With every exhale, a sliver of euphoria would follow, eventually baying out like the tide, his breathing returning to a shallow rhythm. And all the while, you paid him words of comfort.

“Well done,” you said, the smile in your voice evident. “Took it so well, Simon,” Your voice was feather-light, belied the illicit nature of all Soap had heard you do.

Though, even in this dazed, mortified state, he couldn’t fathom how you sounded so…normal. As if you’d exerted no energy.

Perhaps (Y/N)’s just…strong…? Johnny’s reasoning left much to be desired, that much he knew. Even Ghost was winded, and he was by far the fittest of the 141.

In amongst his rampant thoughts, the idea to flee the scene came too late as, upon hearing you dismount Ghost, your footsteps fast approaching the door, Johnny’s eyes widened, the state he’d be in if either you or Ghost found him unintentionally spying flashing before his eyes as his life no doubt would later.

He couldn’t scramble away in time. He ran on the spot, a cartoon, his impending doom facing him head-on as you swung the door open. His eyes all but watered as he caught sight of you wiping your hands on a towel. You smiled.

“Oh, hey, Jo-Jo !” You said, his nickname rolling off your tongue as if Simon’s hadn’t been just minutes ago. You gave him a brief nod before walking past him, a spectre. A harbinger of death. Johnny stood, body reeling, mind freezing, as nothing became clearer to him except your blase manner. He released a short, puffed breath.

He saw the inside of your bedroom, your bed just out of sight, hidden by the door.

Breath quivering, Body shaking, Soap knew this was his chance.

His last chance.

He turned. Didn’t even make the floorboards creak as he did so.

“Fuck’re you lookin’ at, Johnny ?”

Ghost’s voice rolled across Soap’s mind like thunder clouds, despite the laxity of it, the slowness. He froze, ice rain slipping down the back of his shirt and making him stand up straight. Rigid.

“Uh…I–” He winced, his voice cracking, showing the uncertainty that lay below his usually obsidian tone.

“N-Nothing, Sir !”

Sir ? We’re not at base now, you daft fool–

“Somethin’s obviously botherin’ you,” came Ghost again. He let out a breath. “So come on.” His voice was free from the cotton-mouth effect of the pillows.

“Say it.”

Johnny swallowed, his voice prickling either with dehydration, tears, or an unsolvable mixture of both. When he said nothing – did nothing – Ghost sighed.

“Come on, Johnny,” he said, stark as ever. “Haven’t got all day.”

“W…Well–”

“And come out from ‘round that door. S’impolite not to face the person you’re talking to.”

Johnny’s heart stopped.

No, he couldn’t have heard him properly.

“Are…you…sure…?”

Better safe than sorry.

“What’d’you– course I’m bloody sure. Now stop messin’ about and get in ‘ere.”

Taking a deep breath, and a leap of faith, Johnny rounded the door, the corner. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping and praying.

He heard Simon sigh.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake – at least open you eyes, you daft prick.”

Begrudgingly, hesitantly, Soap cracked one eye open, then the other.

His brain almost couldn’t fathom the dissonance between all that was there, all that wasn’t, and all that he’d expected there to be.

Simon was chest-down on your bed, arms surrounding a bundle of pillows, holding them as if they were collected sticks, his head resting atop one. He watched Johnny from the corner of his half-lidded eye. He was dressed from the waist down, and his back, wet with what Soap had initially come to the horrifying conclusion was sweat, was actually bronzed with what permeated the air: a soothing oil.

Lavender.

Soap’s gaze jumped from point to point, trying to find something – anything – of the reality that had played out behind the door.

“Well ?” Ghost said. “I’m listening.”

Johnny, for the last time, swallowed, rubbed the back of his neck. His frying nerves cooled, though electricity still ran through them.

“I thought–” he gave the room another once-over.

“I thought you and… (Y/N)... were…”

Simon huffed.

“Were…?”

Johnny let out a breath, an almost-laugh. He gave a feeble smile.

“Nothin’ Sir–”

“No, go on,” Ghost prodded, getting up onto his elbows and turning over, now facing Johnny. “I’m curious now.”

John bit his lip, trying to quell the incessant itch there. He could taste the sweat collecting on his top lip.

“I just thought that…” He couldn’t look SImon in the eyes, his gaze bouncing around the room. He could feel Simon’s eyes narrowing, his patience waning.

He sighed. The jig was up.

“I…thought– that you and (Y/N) were…” He looked to Ghost, who gave no indication of understanding what Johnny was getting at, his disposition monotone as ever. Even without the mask, he was no less imposing.

Johnny made a gesture with his fists, bumping them together.

Simon’s eyes widened by a fraction of a fraction.

He said nothing. Soap’s fight-or-flight instinct re-activated. He glanced at the door. The hallway. His narrow chance of escape.

“How–” Ghost’s voice drew Johnny back to the land of the living.

“How loud were we ?”

Johnny grimaced.

“Not really (Y/N), Sir,” he said. “Just…” his hand grew into the shape of what he was trying to say. “You.”

Upon seeing Simon’s eyes widen even more, Johnny’s gaze dropped. And found another, damning detail.

Quick, use your natural humour and charm !

“Though,” he smiled, crooked, sided and small. A start. “I can see something’s made you somewhat excited,”

Simon’s eyebrow raised, and following Soap’s gaze, his shoulders went rigid.

Oh no.

A tent had been pitched in his sweatpants, plain as day for all who looked to see. Johnny’s top set of teeth grappled with his bottom lip, trying to purse his lips shut.

A snort sneaked past, and he slapped a hand over his mouth immediately, as if trying to scoop it back in.

Ghost’s gaze hardened. His eyes concrete.

“Tell (Y/N), you die tonight.”

Soap, smiling widely, simply turned in the beginnings of his departure.

“Course, Lieutenant,” he said. “Aaanything you say.”

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Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

[on-a-lucky-tide]

141 and Los Vaqueros creating thirst traps in competition. The losers cook and make the tea for the next five joint ops so the stakes are high. Ghost does the filming because he's not getting his greasy tits out on camera, so Nik subs in.

Gaz, Rudy and Soap do the standard formula because it never misses; shirtless, lots of smouldering looks, flexing. There might even be some baby oil in there because Soap is Extra. They've got this in the bag.

Or so they think.

Nikolai, Price and Alejandro post videos to the Magic Mike soundtrack as they perform chores, fully clothed, but occasionally winking cheekily at the camera; doing the laundry, washing dishes, making the bed, doing the groceries, mowing the lawn, chopping wood and doing DIY. There's even a clip where Laswell does a cameo so Price can listen intently and empathetically as she mimics an emotional conversation, and Syd agrees to let Nik open the door for her and hold her hand in public. (He owes her.)

They win by a landslide. Especially insulting since they had zero social media following at the start. Soap and Gaz are distraught; Rudy proposes to Alejandro the following day because he got madly horny and broody after the first three videos. (He's 38, bro, he's the target audience.)

[innerfare]

Random Sabo Headcanons

Summary: A collection of random Sabo headcanons

Genre: Fluff

CW: None // SFW

———

Never really gave up on his dream of writing a book about his adventures. He keeps a journal and wants to assemble it all into a manuscript, but he has a lot of self doubt regarding his abilities as a writer. A lot of his journal entries are reflecting on the inequality, injustice, and even outright war crimes he has witnessed the World Government commit. When he publishes it, it will 100% be banned by the Government. Also wants to publish some comics based on his childhood with Luffy and Ace, actually has a knack for it. 

Has a few habits from his aristocratic upbringing that not even his time in the woods with Ace and Luffy broke him of. He holds his teacup and eating utensils a certain way, he makes at least some effort to adhere to dress codes, etcetera. Most of these habits are in regards to women, whom he treats with the utmost respect; very chivalrous. 

That being said, he definitely keeps a switchblade in his boot. He’s a very dirty fighter, won’t hesitate to pull it. 

Also cheats at monopoly. And nobody ever suspects him because he benefits from pretty privilege.

Has argued with Koala until his voice is hoarse that dragon claw is way better than fishman karate. Could also write an entire book on the merits of fighting with a lead pipe over any sort of fancy sword or spear. Also used to talk serious smack about devil fruit users before he ate his fruit, expects every devil fruit user in the Revolutionary Army to disregard his previous taunts after the fact.

Secretly such a cuddle bug, craves the affection he never received in his childhood. Except it’s not really a secret because he once fell asleep in a meeting and woke up to everyone laughing at him because he snuggled into Dragon’s side.

A pretty good cook, but weirdly enough, can only make a meal in the wilderness. If it’s over a campfire, he’s a chef, but he always causes some sort of accident when he tries to recreate these dishes in an actual kitchen. Credit a childhood in the woods for this one.

Can be a little clumsy, can’t really be trusted around breakable valuables. Makes it all the more insane how agile he is during a fight.

His scars aren’t just on his face. He has them on his body and hands, too, even down to his ankles, and he doesn’t actually like showing them off (thus the reason he’s basically the only character in this universe who is fully clothed) because they symbolize his traumatic past/leaving Ace and Luffy, which feeds into him blaming himself for Ace’s death. Actually spent a fortune on scar creams in an effort to make the scars fade but none of them worked. Is trying to make peace with that part of his appearance.

Has a skincare routine. Nothing fancy, but he exfoliates and applies moisturizer to his face, and he has a special hand cream. Also always has chapstick on, and he carries it around with him. Has multiple extras scattered around. It has a slight pink tint to it that he pretends not to notice. He makes kissy lips at Koala if she tries to tease him about it. Low key the sort of guy to go through your purse in search of hand cream or concealer.

Speaking of, it’s pretty much impossible to tease him/get under his skin. He takes everything in stride, hardly ever gets pouty. He’s also the only person in the Revolutionary Army who is brave enough to tease Dragon and even argue with him, which is one of the reasons he became Dragon’s second in command. 

Doesn’t do anything special to his hair. It falls like that naturally. Could literally wash his hair with a bar of soap and it still dries as though he had it blown out by a professional.

He doesn’t know how to read palms, but he pretends he does to flirt with people. He’ll make things up about the lines in their palms, using it as an excuse to initiate skin to skin contact. He’s a shameless flirt. Members of the Revolutionary Army often joke about their Chief of Staff being a honeypot. Some Army communications about the matter were even intercepted, and the World Government, not knowing the RA was joking around, actually has it in their file on the Chief of Staff that he will use seduction to get what he wants. When an RA spy find this out and fed it back to the Army, the entire base keeled over in laughter, Sabo included.

———

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