#Laundry Detergent Recipes

[mysticaltigersorceress]

On tonight's edition of needing a break from homework, I instead calculate how much it would cost to make my own laundry detergent vs buying it

I can make my own powdered laundry soap for less than half the cost of the average, plus it's much stronger because it won't have any scented stuff or softeners, so I don't need to use as much as commercial detergent....

So in comparison, I can make over double the amount of laundry soap for the same price as buying it

[clowningaroundmars]

Just made my own laundry detergent ✌🏼

#girlboss #ecofriendly #homesteading #offthegrid #fuckcapitalism #wellnotreallycuziboughtmostofthestuffatBJ’sandHomesense #butyouknowwhatimean

[northbirdblog]

Homemade Laundry Soap

Try making some of this Homemade Laundry Soap! It's easy to make, using natural ingredients, and gentle on sensitive skin!

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Don't Lie to Me

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: life-threatening situations including a bomb and a Branch Davidians-style cult compound, established relationship, hurt/comfort, explicit language, slight emetophobia warning (nothing graphic) Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: You thought Emily was just going out on a typical case until you heard about the standoff at the religious compound. You knew her job was dangerous, but this is a whole new level of terrifying. And you can do nothing but wait. Takes place during S4.E3.

Emily stabbed at the last bit of scrambled egg on her plate and pointed it at you.

"I'd bet my life those kids are being abused," she said, chewing.

You took her plate to the sink, washing up from the early breakfast you'd made to send Emily off on a new case.

"I mean, isn't that kind of the whole point of cults?" you asked, scrubbing at the plates.

"It certainly seems like it." Emily walked over and placed an arm at the small of your back. "Thank you for breakfast. Do you need any help cleaning up?"

"No, I'm okay." You liked the repetitive nature of dishwashing. "You know," you thought out loud, "I was in a cult once."

Emily froze and stared at you, blazer halfway on. "What!?"

"Not that kind of cult. And I got out pretty quick. But... I did believe a lot of crazy things, and I was asked to do some illegal shit."

"Y/N, what!?" she said, slinging her go-bag over her shoulder, reluctant to leave. "What kind of crazy things?"

"Oh, I don't know," you said, drying your hands. "I carried anointing oil around for a while. And I thought shadows in corners were demons. Turns out that's just how light works."

Emily placed her hands on your shoulders, a slightly stunned expression on her face. "I have to go, but we will pick this up later because, Y/N, what!? A cult!?" She shook her head and kissed you, then once again on the forehead for good measure.

"It was just a little cult!" you joked, as she walked toward the door. "It's way easier to get dragged in than you'd think. I consider myself a pretty smart person, and even I fell for some of that bullshit."

"Mmkay," she said, leaning in the doorway. "Well, I'll do my best not to join a cult this week, but no promises."

You rolled your eyes at her. "I love you, Em. Be safe."

"Love you too, honey," she said. "See you in a few days."

You shook your head as the door shut behind her. You didn't tell many people about your "cult year," as you liked to call it, because it hadn't been nearly as extreme as most cults were and because you'd gotten out quickly. But, god, you'd believed in some stupid things. The confluence of moving to a new place, developing a severe mental illness, and falling wildly in love with the girl who was second in command had been a perfect recipe for cultish devotion. No matter. You'd made it out. And, well, fool me twice...

______________________________________________________________

Part of the beauty of working from home is that you could do whatever you wanted most of the day–no pants, no bra, watching the news or TV during lunch, calling Emily whenever you wanted.

You made yourself a sandwich and sat on the couch, turning on the news so that you could fiddle around with your laptop but still have some background noise.

You were scrolling through an article on the best laundry detergents when the reporter mentioned something about La Plata County. You glanced up and turned up the volume. Wasn't that where Emily and Spencer were?

"What is reportedly being called a routine questions and answers meeting by Colorado Child Services has turned into a violent and deadly standoff between Colorado authorities and a fringe religious group known as the Separatarian Sect. The raid on the compound..."

Your heart started to pound. Maybe you'd gotten the name of the county wrong, and Emily wasn't even close. But she had said she was visiting a religious compound and that she was going with Children's Services...

Breathing rapidly, you pulled out your phone and called Emily. Straight to voicemail. You called her again. No answer. You tried to calm yourself down–no need to panic until you knew for sure. You sent Emily a quick text:

Hey love💕 You haven't been forced into a Waco situation have you? The news is going CRAZY. Please text or call when you get a second so I know you're okay. I love you❤️

You moved your work stuff into the living room, piling it on the coffee table and keeping the volume on the news up. You felt sick to your stomach, but tried to stay calm. There was no reason to think Emily was there. Colorado was a huge state. Probably dozens of religious sects. Why would she be at that one? But the longer you went without a text or call from Emily, the more anxious you grew.

______________________________________________________________

You managed to make it about three hours before losing your goddamned mind with worry. You texted Emily again, called her again, left her an angry voicemail about how people shouldn't worry their girlfriends like this, all with no response. You'd tried Derek, too, but no luck.

Your leg bounced up and down, and you could feel tears forming at the corners of your eyes. You found one of Emily's sweatshirts in the hamper and pulled it over your shirt, balling yourself up on the couch and breathing in the scent of her. She's okay, you told yourself over and over. She's okay, she's okay, she's okay.

A breaking news alert on the TV prompted another update on the La Plata County situation. Your head shot up, and you turned the volume up, not wanting to miss a thing.

"...tactical team into a forced retreat after losing a 30-minute gun battle with sect members. Nobody knows for sure how many people are inside, but it is believed that at least three of the child service members are still trapped in the compound."

You didn't sleep that night. Not even for a moment. You sat on the couch late into the night, waiting for updates on the standoff. With each hour that passed without contact from Emily, you were more and more sure that it was her and Spencer in the compound. You'd tried calling a few more times, but the calls seemed pointless, knowing where she was. You'd waited until a decent hour the next morning to call other team members again–Derek, Penelope, JJ. No one had answered, and you'd only grown more terrified. You were scared to know for sure, but you needed to.

You looked down at your phone and took a deep breath, looking at the one number you'd resisted calling so far: Hotch. You knew Emily'd given you his number for emergencies only, but what was this if not an emergency?

The phone dialed for a few moments before picking up.

"Hotchner."

"Where is she!?" you demanded, all the emotion and fear you'd been putting off for the last day rushing to the forefront.

"Y/N," he sighed, and you could tell just by his voice. "She's–"

"Don't lie to me, Hotch! She's in that compound, isn't she?"

Hotch's words were calm, determined. "We're gonna get her out."

"Don't lie to me." Your voice shook, tears slipping down your face.

"Y/N, I swear to you, I will get her out."

"Okay," you whispered, feeling small and scared.

"I'll call as soon as I can to let you know she's okay, but it's gonna take some time."

"Thank you." You dashed tears from your eyes, sniffling.

"Of course."

The line clicked off and you sat in stunned silence for a few minutes, watching the repeated footage of the compound flash by on the TV. Emily was in there. Emily was in there. And there wasn't a damn thing you could do about it.

You paced back and forth for a while, waiting and waiting for news updates, then decided that all this waiting was futile. If Emily couldn't get home to you, you'd go to her. You booked yourself on the next flight to Durango, packed just the essentials, and ran out the door, filling Sergio's bowl and making a mental note to text a friend to check in on him if you were gone for more than a day or two.

______________________________________________________________

The hours you were in the air–with nothing but shitty airplane WiFi service–were the worst for you. You refreshed the live news page over and over again, terrified that at any moment, you'd hear news of a mass death.

When you finally got to Durango that night, you drove the rental car as close to the compound as you could, but ATF had it locked down for miles. For now, this was a close to Emily as you could get.

You booked a nearby hotel and, still wrapped in Emily's sweatshirt, sat moon-faced and bleary-eyed on the edge of the bed, watching the news, and waiting, waiting, waiting.

You'd nearly drifted off to sleep when the room filled with a blinding white-orange light. Your eyes grew wide as you watched the screen. The compound went up in flames, debris flying far and wide.

"Oh my god," you said, covering your mouth. "Oh my god."

You ran to the bathroom and vomited, then sat on the cool floor, shaking. You coughed as you hyperventilated, unable to get enough air into your lungs. You wrapped your hands around your head, rocking. There was no way. No way someone would have survived an explosion like that.

You felt like your heart was being ripped apart. It was the hope that hurt the most. The maybe she hadn't been in there? But almost certainly she was. Maybe she was okay? But probably she wasn't. Most likely, she didn't even exist anymore, had gone up in smoke with the rest of the compound, the thought of which made you vomit again. You couldn't fathom it, couldn't envision a world without Emily. You needed her. You hunched on the floor of the hotel room, leaning into the bed, and waited. Waited for news of Emily's death. You hoped that Hotch would call you first. It'd be so much easier to hear it from him, but the reporters were like vultures, and they often got the news first.

______________________________________________________________

At the compound, a deeply battered Emily, now running out of adrenaline, leaned heavily on Hotch as he walked her to an ambulance.

"You don't have to come with me," she told him, her voice gravelly. "It's not that bad."

"Prentiss, you can barely walk," Hotch protested, watching in concern as she winced climbing into the ambulance. "I wish you'd get on a stretcher."

"I am on a stretcher." Emily gave him a little wave from where she now lay, an EMT strapping her in and taking her vitals.

"I meant before now." Hotch smiled slightly. His team was beat up, but they'd be okay.

He pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts. "You need to make a call," he told Emily, putting the phone on speaker as it dialed.

"Oh, god," Emily groaned. "She's gotta be worried sick."

When you picked up, your voice was timid, rough with emotion.

"Hotch?" you whispered, terrified of what he might tell you.

"Hi, honey," Emily said, her voice heavy with love and exhaustion. It hit her, all of a sudden, that there was a good chance she might not have made it out. That she would never have seen you again. The thought brought tears to her eyes.

"Em!" you cried between sobs. "Are you okay!? Are you hurt!?"

"I'm a little banged up, but I'll make it."

"You scared the shit out of me!" you yelled, equal parts furious at her for putting her life in danger and relieved that she was okay. Emotions tumbled through your body like ocean waves.

Emily smiled and wiped a few tears from under her eyes. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Is Spencer there? Is he okay, too?"

Emily exhaled shakily. "Yeah, he's fine. We're all fine."

"Where are you?"

"Uh, in an ambulance."

"Which hospital are they taking you to?" you asked, pulling on your shoes and grabbing your keys off the hotel desk.

"Mercy?" Emily said, repeating what the EMT told her.

"I'll meet you there."

"No, honey, you don't need to come all the way here," Emily protested. "I'm okay. I'll be home in a few days."

"I'm already here, Em. Don't even try to fight me on this."

"You're here!? In Colorado?!"

"At a hotel. As close to the compound as I could get."

"You came?" Emily confirmed, her voice quiet, like she couldn't quite believe someone would love her enough to be there.

"Emily," you breathed. "Of course I did."

A few tears escaped Emily's eyes, and Hotch looked away.

"Now," you said, clearing your throat and trying to pull yourself together. "Please, please, let the doctors take care of you. I'll be there soon, okay?"

"Okay," she sniffled.

"I love you."

"I love you, too," Emily said, before hanging up and handing the phone back to Hotch.

The EMT handed her a paper towel to use as a tissue and she laughed, dabbing at her eyes and nose. "Thanks," she said.

Hotch smiled, watching her.

"What?" she said.

"She really loves you."

"I know."

______________________________________________________________

At the hospital, Emily heard you before she saw you. You were the first thing she heard after waking up from surgery, and she couldn't help but smile. You were giving the nurses a run for their money, which was saying something. You were usually so patient, so accommodating. Not today.

"Look," you railed at the nurse's station. "I've been in the waiting room for hours! I have been awake for three days straight, and my girlfriend has been a cult hostage that whole time! I am not in the mood to be held hostage too! Take me to her now, or I swear to god I will get the fucking FBI director on the line."

Emily's face brightened when you came in the room, but yours fell. She looked awful. Her face was bruised and swollen, bandages covered her body, and her arm was in a cast.

"Oh, Em," you said, your voice breaking, as you grabbed her hand, pressing your palm gently to her cheek.

"I'm okay." But she wasn't, and you could tell.

"It's okay, baby," you reassured her, running your fingers gently through her hair. "You don't have to be okay now, alright? I'm here. I'm here to take care of you."

Her breath hitched, and you could tell she was fighting off tears. It broke your heart. She always felt like she needed to be strong. It was time to let someone else be strong for a change.

You lowered the railing of the hospital bed, and lifted yourself in, gently pulling Emily into you. She grasped desperately at your shirt and fought off sobs.

"Shh," you whispered, cradling her head. "Let it out, love. I'm right here. You're safe now."

You held her while she cried, heartbroken that she'd been so scared and so hurt and, yet, proud that she handled it like no one else in the world could. And for neither the first time nor the last, you felt the immense weight and honor of being someone Emily Prentiss felt safe enough to break down with.

When she quieted, you rocked her and held her and placed small, gentle kisses on her head, trying to convey all your love for her, all your protectiveness toward her through osmosis.

You remembered, quite suddenly, the last conversation you'd had before Emily left, about cults.

"I told you," you whispered, giggling.

"Told me what?"

"That it was easy to get dragged into a cult."

"That is not the same," Emily argued, playfully shoving you. "I was held hostage. You were just dumb."

"Ouch."

"You didn't hoard weapons or anything, did you?"

"No," you scoffed. "Of course not."

"Well, what'd you do?" she pressed.

"What do you mean?"

"You said you did some illegal shit in the cult, so what did you do?"

"Oh," you laughed. "Nothing too serious. We bugged some people's rooms, recorded conversations."

"...Why?"

"We thought they were in cahoots with the devil."

Emily laughed, then grabbed her ribs, wincing. "'Cahoots with the devil!?' God, I'm so glad I found you after your religious days."

"What can I say? You get the very best of me."

Emily beamed up at you, pulling you down by your collar to kiss you. You stayed gentle and soft, mindful of her split lip and bruised face.

You held your forehead to hers, breathing in her scent. That familiar Emily scent that you'd been so sure you'd never get again.

"Don't ever scare me like that again," you whispered.

"I won't," Emily said, burying her face in your chest.

"Don't lie to me."

You felt her smile into your skin. "I'll try."

You sighed and grinned. "I guess that'll do. But only because I love you so much."

[roosterforme]

The Secret Ingredient (Rooster x Reader)

Part of The What If Collection of blurbs for Roo and Baby Girl. Written for an ask. My masterlist. Banner by @mak-32

Warnings: just fluff

"You seem a little nervous," Bradley whispered as you snuggled up against his arm on the flight. "You know they love you, right?"

You buried your face against his shirt and inhaled the fresh smell of the laundry detergent you always bought. Bradley smelled and felt like home, and as you slipped your hands around his bicep, you snuggled a little closer. "I know," you replied softly. 

You'd spent hours on facetime calls with Carole Bradshaw over the past month and a half since you met them for the first time. Sometimes Goose would make a cameo, but usually it was just Carole. She always called Bradley's phone, but after a minute or two, she inevitably asked to talk to you every single time. 

"I know," you repeated. "I'm not nervous exactly. I just want to make a good impression on them in their home. I'm literally going to visit the house you grew up in. And it's Thanksgiving. It's a big deal."

Bradley just kissed the top of your head and said, "You're a big deal."

You glared up at him, but you were smiling. And then you snuggled in for the rest of the flight and eventually fell asleep. You felt yourself being jostled awake by Bradley just as the sun was setting in Virginia. 

"Let's go find my dad," Bradley said as both of you walked through the airport.

"Your mom's not picking us up, too?" you asked.

"Doubt it. She's probably already cooking more food than we could ever hope to eat."

"Should I offer to help her?" you asked, walking a little faster now that Bradley had spotted his dad standing in front of a row of benches. 

"If you want to," he replied. "She'd probably like that. She might even tell you about her secret recipes."

"Secret recipes?" you asked, but Goose was already pulling you in for a tight hug before he even reached for his son.

"How was the flight?" he asked, rubbing a firm circle into your shoulder with his hand before releasing you with a smile.

"Very smooth," you replied, watching him and Bradley hug each other. 

He kissed Bradley's cheek and told you, "Don't say that to him. He thinks he could do it better."

You laughed. "He probably could."

Bradley kissed you and whispered, "That's my girl." Then you let your fingers tangle with his as you both followed Goose outside as he pulled your suitcase for you. 

The short drive from the airport had you more excited than nervous as you listened to the two of them chat about everything and nothing. And when you pulled up to their house, Carole came running out and opened the back door to collect you in her arms as you climbed out. 

"You're here!" she announced, kissing your cheek and hugging you. "Goose got Bradley's old bedroom ready for you. You'll think it's so cute. It still has his baseball theme."

"You're adorable," you told Bradley as he rolled his eyes.

When you smiled and pulled Carole in for another hug when she started to back away, she whispered in your ear, "I can't tell you how happy I am that you're here."

And then she led you inside and gave you a tour of the house that included her pointing out where Bradley once wet his pants when he was five years old and where he threw up before his date for junior prom got dropped off.

By the time she tried to get the three of you into the dining room to eat dinner, you were doubled over in laughter, and Bradley was shaking his head. "I only threw up a little," he said as he helped his mom carry food to the table. 

And there was just so much food, you couldn't comprehend what tomorrow would be like when she made Thanksgiving dinner. But you didn't have to wonder for long. You and Bradley slept in his baseball bedroom, your body draped on top of his with his fingers tangled with yours. And at seven o'clock, you could hear Carole in the kitchen.

"What's she doing, Roo?" you asked as Bradley started to stir. 

"Cooking," he rasped. "She's always like this. Has to make everyone's favorite side dish. Brenda is allergic to yams and needs something else. Terry hates cranberry sauce so she makes homemade chutney. My dad's favorite vegetable is lima beans, so she makes him a special casserole that everyone else hates."

You stretched as your body reminded you that it was actually four in the morning California time, but you got out of bed anyway. "Your mom is lovely, but I'm glad she doesn't know my favorite side dish, because she would have probably tried to make it."

Bradley just smirked as he watched you pull off your tee shirt and get dressed. "You're right about that, Baby Girl."

"I'm going to go help her," you said, bending to kiss him. "Suck up to your mom a little bit more."

Bradley snorted and rolled over. "She already wants me married off to you, so good luck with that. You'll never get rid of me now." He pulled the blanket over his head, and you smiled as you went to the kitchen to investigate. 

Carole was somehow peeling potatoes, reading a recipe and making stuffing at the same time. "Can I help you with anything?" you asked, and she turned to face you with a bright smile. 

"Sure! Peel these," she said, handing you the peeler and the potato she was working on. Your eyes caught on the ring she had on with her wedding band.

"That's pretty. Is it a ruby?" you asked, and her eyes flashed as they met yours. 

"Yes, it's my birthstone. Goose got it for me."

You pressed your lips together and then decided to ask, "What happened to your engagement ring?" You were sure she'd had a diamond when they visited you and Bradley last month. 

She was quiet for a beat as she diced up an onion and added it to the stuffing. "I just thought it was time for a change," she said softly before she smiled at you. "Now get to peeling," she added with a wink. "We have to make everyone's favorite side dishes!"

You worked for a while side by side as she asked you about your job and made sure Bradley was a top notch boyfriend. "Well he can't cook to save his life," you said, and started to chuckle. "But he cleans and does all the yard work."

"And he's sweet to you?" she asked sincerely.

You looked down at the peeler and nodded. "Yes. He's sweet to me." Then you set the peeler down and said, "Bradley told me something about your secret recipes?"

She laughed a little more. "That's just something I always told Bradley and my Goose to keep them out of the kitchen and out of my hair. I told them that I had to cook my secret recipes, and that maybe one day I would share them."

You smiled and said, "I hope you're not about to tell me that the secret ingredient you use is love. Because that would be the most mom thing ever."

"No," she said with another wink as she opened the refrigerator. "It's wine." She took out a bottle of chardonnay and opened it.

"Okay, that's pretty funny," you said, accepting a glass after she poured two. "Wine is the secret ingredient."

She looked at you for a moment with a thoughtful smile. "I guess there is another secret ingredient. And you'll have to excuse me for giving a total mom answer here. But I think the real secret ingredient is patience."

"Patience?"

"Mmhmm," she hummed. "You'll need it with Bradley. I need it with Goose." She took a sip of wine and then said, "But you'll need to be the one to add it to your recipes. Your relationship. Lord knows my Bradley can be a sweetheart when he wants to be, but he can sometimes be indecisive and other times rush things. Let him rush for the good things, like being with you. But make sure you help him through the indecisive bits before you both get too overwhelmed. Now help me with this coleslaw. It's Erica's favorite."

You thought about her words and considered how it felt to be with Bradley. Sometimes you thought you and he rushed to be together and move into his house. And as you mixed up the ingredients as Carole added them, Bradley popped his head into the room. 

"Need help?" he asked. 

"Why don't you set the table?" Carole asked him. "And don't forget the little bottle. I put it in the pantry."

Bradley kissed his mom on the cheek and then pulled you in for a kiss that was on the verge of being too much, and then he disappeared into the dining room. Carole just smirked. 

A while later, when the turkey and no fewer than twelve side dishes were ready, you and all of Bradley's cousins headed into the dining room. "Where should I sit?" you asked him when he wrapped his arms around you from behind. 

"My mom had me put your favorite side dish at your spot," Bradley said, rubbing his mustache along your ear. "See it yet?"

Then your eyes caught on the bottle of your favorite green hot sauce, and your heart swelled with happiness. "Oh!" you gasped, turning in Bradley's arms. "You told her about my addiction to hot sauce?"

"She wanted you to have your favorite side dish. I told her you weren't picky, and then she got that information out of me."

"I love it here," you murmured before rushing over to give Carole a hug.

She squeezed you as you whispered, "Thanks for the hot sauce. Happy Thanksgiving."

"Happy Thanksgiving," she whispered back.

[cosmerelists]

How Shallan, Adolin, & Kaladin would Divide up Chores (If They Lived Together)

If these three were roommates (reader's choice as to whether they also share a bedroom ha ha) and also lived in the modern world, here is how I think they would divide up the house chores.

1. Laundry: Adolin

This is because Kaladin & Shallan would both look disdainfully at the "gentle cycle" or "dry clean only" instructions on a piece of clothing, shove it directly into the washer with everything else, and dump on some bargain-brand detergent. "Clothes that cannot survive this are too weak for me," Kaladin would intone and Shallan would be like, "Yeah, if they die, they die." And Adolin in the background would scream, "OKAY I DO THE LAUNDRY FROM NOW ON."

2. Dishes: Kaladin

I'm just thinking back to Kaladin's surgeon training and how his dad was like, "We must wash our hands son" and Kaladin was like, "Nobody else washes their hands are we sure that rotspren even exist" and Lirin was like, "It is the wisdom of the heralds, my son." Or something like that. Anyway, Kaladin seems to be uniquely trained in hygiene and avoiding sickness, so he should take care of the dishes.

3. Dusting: Shallan

Shallan would fill the house with art, and she wouldn't want it to get dusty (plus, I'm feeling knick-knacks from her), so I think she would be the one to make sure all of the art and books and other stuff stays dust-free.

4. Cooking: Shared

I don't think any of the three is a stand-out cook, so they should just take turns. Shallan-as-Radiant follows recipes very exactly, Kaladin keeps making soup, and Adolin is pretty sure adding wine makes any dish fancy.

...Sometimes Rock cooks for them and then they have good food.

5. Paying Bills: Kaladin

Kaladin scoffs that no lighteyes know the value of money and that Shallan & Adolin won't budget correctly, so he'll take care of any shared household finances like paying utilities. I bet he balances checkbooks, too.

6. Taking out trash: Adolin

"You can handle gross things. You poop yourself all the time," says Shallan, a wording that Adolin does not appreciate but cannot argue with.

7. Vacuuming: Shallan

Pattern likes it when the vacuum makes neat lines in the carpet and hums excitedly the whole time.

8. Grocery Shopping: Shared

No particular reason. I just think it would be cute if they all went to the grocery store together.

9. Cleaning gutters: Kaladin

It's high up there, but Kaladin is not afraid of heights. He kinda likes being on the roof. It's like chipping crem off of a roof, only it's leaves. It makes sense.

10. Answering the door: Adolin

When the doorbell rings, the resident extrovert is sent to deal with it while Shallan and Kaladin hide behind the couch.

11. Getting rid of scary bugs: Shallan

If there is a spider or a big moth or even a centipede, it is Shallan who handles it because, as a wise tumblr poster once said, "Cremlings is bugs."

[yuurei20]

Birthday Present Tracking: Ruggie

⚠️JP-server-only information included, no main story spoilers⚠️

Presents received by Ruggie: ・High-quality jerky (Leona) ・Meal voucher for Mostro Lounge (Azul) ・A laundry kit including expensive detergent (Jade)

・High-quality towel (Jade) ・Different flavors of crackers (Kalim) ・Spice set (Jamil)

・Apples (Epel) ・Luxury pudding from the school store (Silver) ・Powdered sports drink mix (Spelldrive Club)

・Exemption from cleanup duties (Spelldrive Club underclassman) ・Eco bag (unnamed classmate) ・Guidance to a field of blooming dandelions (Lucius)

Presents Given by Ruggie: ・Delivery meal cleanup (for Jack) ・Shift at Mostro Lounge (for Floyd) ・Two recipes that use wild plants (to Jade)

・Origami cobra (to Kalim) ・Cleaning and laundry (for Idia) ・A report on the food at his birthday party (for Ortho) ・An explanation of a pressure point meant to help one stay awake (for Silver)

[fbfh]

Relapsing so hard for Eddie Munson right now. Going absolutely bonkers over how clingy he is. How domestic he gets. He's so warm. So soft. He always finds a way to make things fun and playful and flirty and intimate no matter what you're doing. You're trying to do laundry, stretching up on your tiptoes to grab the detergent from the top shelf when Eddie stops you.

"I got it, short stack," he says with a smile before handing you the bottle. It doesn't matter how tall you are, Eddie will always insist on getting things from top shelves and high places for you. It's become so routine you don't even reach for the detergent and dryer sheets anymore, you just accept them from his hands. when your fingers meet for that brief moment, he'll always savor it, brushing his thumb across your soft skin or pressing a kiss to your knuckles. When you're cooking, Eddie usually wraps his arms around your waist and rests his head on your shoulder bc he really does love to watch you cook and be close to you that much. He always gets excited when a new episode of your extra special cooking show premieres, aka when you cook anything. Sometimes when you're walking around the kitchen he'll keep his arms around your waist, matching your footsteps just to hear your sweet giggle and feel close to you. Sometimes he narrates what you do with sound effects to make you laugh.

"Scoop.... scoop.... scoop...."

"Are you done??" You ask with a fake annoyed laugh. Eddie looks over your shoulder at your recipe, then at you and says seriously,

"Nope. You have two scoops left."

God i love this man

[ghostedeabha]

more random cod headcanons

tw: mentions of self harm, references to OG ghost backstory, angst :)

141 tried to do group therapy together

but they ended up making the therapist cry and the four of them had to awkwardly comfort the therapist

ghost hates therapy with a passion but goes anyway

soap did the tide pod challenge

price lost it at him in the med bay when he found out

"johnny it's a plastic capsule of LAUNDRY DETERGENT!"

"yummy colours🥰"

ghost used to sh on his face

love how i just give yall a bunch of sweet stuff and then BOOM ANGST HEADCANON outta nowhere :)

i feel like he suffers from severe facial dysmorphia, especially after covering his face for so long

sweet pie gang: soap, könig, price

savoury pie gang: ghost and gaz

couldnt care less, just likes pie: horangi

ghost hates coffee but pretends to like it to seem cool (he's actually drinking coffee crisp hot chocolate)

horangi listens to ayesha erotica

he is also a RAGING bisexual (strong lean towards men)

laswell refers to the 141 as her boys, she loves to embarrass them like a mom would

soap and ghost are ATTROCIOUS at cooking

price is pretty good at it, can make quite a lot but struggles with a few harder recipes (and also somehow cannot make instant noodles)

gaz is a GOD in the kitchen but he hates cooking

soap is not allowed in the kitchen alone, once set the kitchen in fire trying to get a glass of water

awkward day on base when that happened

"sorry, can't go into the kitchen, the explosions specialist set it on fire trying to get a drink"

soap listens to classic rock and metal only (and katy perry but he will never admit it)

gaz listens to (shocking literally everyone on the team) music from the 40's, 50's and 60's. he listens to some modern music but he just ADORES the vintage music, especially jazz.

gaz and soap also like therapy

like genuinely enjoy it

gaz has to hype himself up before his appointments though

soap hypes the therapist up

price is neutral, he'd prefer to just smoke and drink to deal with his problems but understands that talking about them with a professional is the best option

ghost, as mentioned before, hates therapy with a burning passion but goes anyway

mostly because he knows he will be put on probation if he doesn't

but also because he knows that he needs the help even if he doesn't want to admit it

also after one of his first month of going to all his appointments that month without skipping one at all, price told simon he was proud of him and now he uses that as motiva to go to his appointments

price knows how to use technology in the weirdest ways

can operate a drone but cannot for the life of him figure out QR codes

a pretty decent hacker but do NOT ask him what any text slang aside from "lol" and "lmao" is. he does not know.

doesn't know that emojis have different meanings depending on context

once said "simon's in the hospital😭" i the TF141 group chat, gaz and soap thought that he was laughing at simon

soap got arrested in croatia on a mission once because he committed arson

kate had to bail him out and he got an earful on being a pyromaniac and arsonist

price just told him to restrict his fire setting to the battlefield

valeria has a medusa tattoo, it's under her chest on her sternum (iykyk)

ghost was tempted to get a medusa tattoo but decided against it because he views it more as a symbol of strength for women (really afab/fem aligned in general) who have suffered through that kind of assault and that it would be wrong to take that from them

he got a tattoo inspired by medusa instead

ghost has his on his hip

he was orginally going to get it on his left ribcage but when the artist was placing the stencil he almost had a panic attack and they both decided a different placement would be better

könig has tattoos for his siblings and his mother (mama's booooyyyyy🗣️)

ghost also has tattoos for his mother, tommy, joseph and even one for beth

is there a male version of a barracks bunny?

because that's horangi, that man is fucking EVERYONE or getting fucked, depends on his mood that night

idk i feel like sometimes they all watch like family guy or bob's burgers together sometimes during their downtime

soap's fav bob's burgers character is gene

price's is teddy

gaz's is tina

ghost's is both louise and bob

könig's is linda

horangi's is mort and kuchi kopi

[undiscovered-horizon]

Direct Message - TASM!Peter Parker x Reader

[2K Followers 'Clue' Special]

SUMMARY: A healthy relationship means you trust each other but the healthiest relationship is poking fun at anyone trying to hook up with either of you... right?

WORDCOUNT: ~0.5k

In a miraculous turn of events, your kitchen did not burn down due to Peter’s actions. No one lost a finger and neither did the recipe turn out to be bogus. The veggie stock with dumplings was simmering on the stove, filling the flat with a mouth-watering aroma. Your stomach grumbled quietly. The fifteen minutes of waiting were going to be torture.

Sitting on the counter, you were silently watching Peter putting away the dirty utensils and ingredients. He still had his sleeves rolled up from cooking. There wasn’t anything, in particular, you were thinking about - school, family, the plot of the book you were reading… Just passing, unimportant thoughts. Judging by his expressionless face, he wasn’t any more troubled than you were.

Your phone vibrated on the counter, eliciting a low thrum. Rather out of habit than genuine interest, you looked at the lit-up screen. A message. Reading the less-than-savoury text, a grimace appeared on your face. “Dear Lord, what on God’s green Earth is this.”

“What’s up?” Peter asked walking to you. He leaned against the counter with one hand. His curious gaze studied your profile.

"Remember that guy that hit me up like last month?” Peter gave you a confused look. Truthfully, neither of you paid much mind to people interested in the other. “The basketball dude?”

His face momentarily lit up. "Yeah, what about him?"

"He hit me up again."

Peter burst into laughter. A lovely sound. "What?!” he asked in disbelief. “Show me."

You opened the phone and Peter leaned his head against yours to get a good look at the screen. An enticing fragrance of spicy cologne mixed with flowery laundry detergent filled your nostrils. Unknowingly, you took in a deep inhale.

"See?“ You vaguely pointed at the newest text. “Your boyfriend doesn't have to know',” you said in a mocking voice. “The Hell do I look like? Secret Service?"

He looked at you with a strange glint in his eyes. "I mean, he's got good taste, gotta give him that."

You entertained him with a giggle. Taking a step forward, Peter found himself standing between your legs, hands lingering around your waist. He gave you a playful grin.

“You too." Enjoying this sudden intimacy, you wrapped your arms around his neck.

Peter leaned in explicitly close but before he would indulge in this lack of personal space, he simply had to murmur something cheesy. “Oh, please. He’s a fanboy, I am a connoisseur.”

His warm lips gently moved against yours. One of his hands travelled from your waist to your jaw, firmly cupping it. The surrounding world, like mist on a summer morning, seemed to dissolve.

The repetitive sound of the lid slamming against the pot made you divert your attention. You turned your head slightly to the side to free your mouth but Peter was hardly affected by that. Feverishly, he continued peppering your face with kisses.

“Babe, aren’t the dumplings boiling over?” you whispered to him.

He didn’t even glance in the direction of the pot. Peter’s warm breath brushed against your cheek as he chuckled before kissing you again. “Nah.”

I've got one Bad News and two Good News. The Good News: 1) We're a handful of souls away from hitting 2k. 2) I'm 4k words into a sci-fi novel. The Bad News: I don't know if I have depression or ADHD but one of those for sure

[jungle-angel]

Two Little Pumpkins (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Summary: Halloween is fast approaching but for you and Rhett that means letting the kiddos do one of their favorite things

Rhett's heavy footfalls clunked down the stairs to the living room and into the kitchen, the full laundry basket resting on his hip and ready for the washing machine. God his clothes stank, the reek of cow shit, motor oil and compost all over them. Bad enough that he and Wes had to shovel out the pigpen on the Redwood ranch that afternoon in the cold, wet rain before he discovered that a good portion of the rain had soaked through the tops of his boots.

He overturned the bucket into the washer that rested in the little room just off the kitchen, the giggles of Hannah, Amy and Rose Hawk, music to his ears as he dumped in a capful of laundry detergent.

"Whatcha up to girlies?" he asked.

"Making jack-o-lanterns!!!" the girls chirped.

Rhett looked up as he switched on the washer, the three girls all at the kitchen table, happily carving away at their pumpkins while the smells of cinnamon, apples and the pumpkin spice candles burned in the living room. You yourself, were in the kitchen and getting dinner prepped for that night, the sun having gone down around five-thirty which made the house extra cozy even as the due date for your twin boys crept closer and closer.

"You good sweet thing?" Rhett said, sneaking up behind you.

"As always," you answered rather cheekily.

"What's on the menu for tonight?"

"Big bowl of beef stew, mashed potatoes and buttermilk biscuits."

Rhett had to bite his lip to hide the obscene groan that had welled in his throat. He loved whenever you made Cecelia's beef stew recipe and if it was her ox tail soup? He'd eat it until there was nothing more in the dutch oven.

You stirred the savory contents of the crockpot while Rhett took a seat at the kitchen table to help the girls. He took care of the sharp parts, carving out along the marks made with a sharpie and cutting open the top while the girls scooped out the contents, pretending to be mad scientists.

"Her girlies," you said, handing them a cookie tray. "Put the guts and seeds on a cookie tray, momma's gonna make cookies with them."

"Mind salting and saving the seeds for me?" Rhett asked.

You didn't mind at all. Like sunflower seeds, Rhett was an absolute sucker for roasted pumpkin seeds in the fall, carrying them in a little bag and eating them with his lunches like they were popcorn.

You picked out the pumpkin seeds and set them in a strainer to wash them off while the soft, cakey cookie batter was whipped up in a bowl with the pumpkin being dumped in and promptly mixed in. The entire house smelled so good that you wished you could bottle it all up and make a candle scent with it.

"Whatcha think darlin?" Rhett asked when Rose turned her pumpkin around. "Scary enough?"

You laughed a little. "I dunno Rhett," you told him. "I think Joy and Martha are gonna get spooked when they see it."

You and Rhett had the time of your lives helping the girls to carve their pumpkins while dinner and dessert cooked away in the oven.

"Wanna put these on display at the store?" Rhett asked while the girls were washing their hands for dinner.

"Why not?" you answered. "I figured maybe a little Halloween pumpkin display wouldn't be a bad idea."

Rhett kissed your lips. He couldn't wait to see it.

[divinity-in-chaos]

Mycroft headcanons

I just need to get these out of my system. If anyone has anything to add, pls do!! I love to hear your thoughts 🥰 slight hints to mystrade!

Warning: this will include themes of depression, eating disorders and self-harm. I will put them at the end, so if you aren’t here for that, just skip past ❤️

He absolutely hates the summer. This guy is a winter baby. The cold weather is a bother but at least he doesn’t sweat through his suits in the snow.

Will never admit it, but his mother’s homemade pie is his favourite comfort food. He’s tried a thousand times to bake it, following the recipe exactly, but he can never get it just right.

The first time he held Sherlock, he cried.

(This is the one of the only times he’s cried in front of his parents.)

Mycroft can’t stand jazz music. He does not understand it at all.

If he had to have a pet, it would be a cat. Preferably one without any fur.

Is actually allergic to certain laundry detergents- I like to think Sherlock is too. They just have sensitive skin.

Watches Barbie movies to unwind when he gets overwhelmed and burnt out. Will not admit this even if it were to save his life.

Every autumn, he re-watches Over The Garden Wall with a glass of wine. The whole show in one sitting, I might add.

Is a daddy’s boy. Sherlock is mummy’s boy.

Would love to have a daughter, but the trauma of taking care of Eurus and Sherlock has convinced him he’s not suitable to be a father. His family genes also has a massive play in that- what if it was a case of Eurus again? Nope, Mycroft would rather be lonely.

Speaking of lonely- I like to think after TFP, Sherlock starts setting him up with people and at first Mycroft complains, but then eventually he just gives in and lets Sherlock do what he wants. Coincidentally, this is just around the time Sherlock starts setting him up with Lestrade. Isn’t that strange? 👀

Came out to his parents during lunch one day, it was very casual.

(Sherlock has never come out, he doesn’t feel like he has to follow that tradition)

His favourite colour is green.

Has a framed photo of himself, Eurus and Sherlock as kids which he keeps in his bedroom. Not on display, but in his bedside drawer (in the middle drawer)

Depressive themes now:

Has been struggling with depression and ED’s since he was quite young.

He has a particular routine of binge eating and then purging.

This is in partly Mrs Holmes fault when she started insisting he diet, a little too much. Not harshly, just unaware of the consequences.

Although it’s mainly depression causing it, along with a childhood of being bullied and mocked by peers.

Attempted suicide at 16. This was the second and last time Mr and Mrs Holmes saw him cry. It wasn’t out of sadness or embarrassment, it was frustration that he had failed.

Sherlock’s reaction to his attempt is the sole reason he hasn’t tried again.

Has SH scars on his stomach.

[dandelionsresilience]

DIY Laundry Detergent

No Soap or Borax

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

Horse chestnuts + water (optional)

Horse chestnuts (conkers) + water

Soap, but No Borax

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

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

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

Soap and Borax

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

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

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

Add white vinegar to soften & fight stains

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

Baking soda can substitute for borax

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

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

Other recipes

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

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

[blue-banditt]

i use this specific detergent bc it smells like how my best friend did when we were kids, I'm pretty sure her mom used it when she did laundry. I still drink out of a mug that I bought matching with my ex gf from middle school, I haven't talked to her since we broke up that summer, she has a different name now. I wash my pans straight off the burner even though everyone says it's bad because that's how my dad taught me. Everytime I make kraft Mac n cheese I remember the first time my mom taught me how to use the stove when I was 10. I discovered a new recipe to make it taste better, but I still make it the same way she taught me, when I miss her. The only reason I watch studio Ghibli movies is because me and my friend used to watch it when I would have sleepovers at my house; My Neighbor Totoro feels like her low lit kitchen and smells like popcorn and homemade rice krispie treats. My vinyl player is the same one I saw at someone's house in 6th grade— she had a whole collection of MCR records; I went home that night and started listening to my chem for the first time. Neon lights remind me of the ones she had at a sleepover that I left at 3 am while everyone was asleep. When I can't sleep I turn on flatsound, because that's what I listened to every night when I suffered from chronic trauma induced insomnia when I was a kid. When I make music I still get to see the cracks my mother left on my acoustic guitar when she tried to break it on the concrete in a fit of anger. When I drink spiced bourbon I remember the third time I ever got wasted, at night, in a bedroom, with two of my best friends, I was 14; we spent the night talking about our SH and trauma dumping until we passed out. Sunflowers remind me of calming someone I loved down from a panic attack when she learned she was being cheated on. All this happened so long ago and it all still affects me to this day, I'm a collage of everyone I've ever loved and every way in which they broke me.

[lanaactuallyabanana]

Sooo, Kenzie texted me and was like: "Can you request this from Lana for me?" and I was, "I got you." And sooo, she was wondering if you were able to do some roommate Ranboo headcannons with a female reader? Some little details is the reader is a shop-a-holic, usually leaving to go grab something from one store, and bringing home a ton of items. Also lots of sticky note reminders around the apartment for stuff the reader needs to purchase when she goes back out cause she'll tend to forget to get stuff she actually needs and will come home with random stuff. And yes, reader will get Ranboo stuff they want or stuff they eyed too long at the store, or just surprised them.

Take your time on it! Remember to eat, rest, drink lots of water, and have fun with the writing!! Feel free to delete if you're not comfortable doing it!

-Jackieee <3333 & Mackenzieeee :))))

THIS IS AMAZING. SO CREATIVE. kenzie ur so silly billy + ily both mwah

, you're so forgetful !

ranboo x fem!reader (platonic)

!! roommate (platonic, dont make it weird.) headcanons ahead !!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

a/n notes !!

I LOVE HEADCANONS YIPPEE

especially from my favorite mooties jackie and kenzieee <3

ok but srsly the ask literally described me

like i will literally catch myself going to target or something to buy like laundry detergent and come back with a goddamn pillow

like i am a victim of that (#freelana)

fic headcanons !!

i feel like ranboo would be the type of person to buy only what they need from a store and thats it

but y/n is the complete opposite so its the funniest thing ever

especially since they're roommates.

ranboo would probably be the one to go out to the store if they both needed something

when they first moved in together, they both needed mouse pads for their streaming setup but ranboo was busy editing so y/n went shopping for him

long story short y/n came back with a smoothie blender

"i asked you to buy a mouse pad."

"uh yeah i know, its right here silly. OOH LOOK IT COMES WITH A RECIPE BOOKLE-"

dw they ended up using the smoothie blender (cooking stream wowsies)

along with buying random stuff, y/n is also incredibly forgetful

like worse than ranboo 2020-2021 enderman dream smp lore era type of forgetful. so essentially really bad.

ranboo has this weirdly massive stash of sticky notes in their desk, which comes in handy!

ran leaving little notes for y/n all around the house

in y/n's bathroom, on their streaming setup, on their nightstand in their room, EVERYWHERE.

"can you stop leaving sticky notes everywhere, its like a nightmare."

"i'll do that as soon as you start to remember to get the right things."

"so that won't be for a while i assume.."

the sticky notes would be super sweet though

"y/n, buy ____ soon !! :)" or something

def has a smiley face somewhere on that sticky note

OR A CROWN TO SIGN THE STICKY NOTE OFF

while y/n has a shopping problem, sometimes that problem can be a solution.

ranboo's def not a good shopper for themselves, but y/n def is and knows what they want/like.

y/n buying little things for ran everytime they go out

ranboo doesnt know how to react each time they do that cause for they never expect it

forgetful y/n is very silly and i love it.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

this is so cute!!!!! im obsessed with this RAHHHHH

thank you so much to kenzie and jackie (@catswithroses) for this request!! love u guys smsmsmsmsm xoxo mwah <3

hope u guys enjoy!

requests are open !!

[yuurei20]

Birthday Present Tracking: Jade

Presents received by Jade:

・Information that he does not know (Riddle) ・Two recipes that use wild plants (Ruggie) ・A large water tank (Azul)

・Shoes (Floyd) ・Photo book of mountains (Kalim) ・Stringed instrument (Kalim)

・Self-concocted blend of tea leaves (Vil) ・A lecture on how to make pressed flower bookmarks (Rook) ・Vending machine chocolate bar (Idia)

・Rope (Silver) ・Coupons for switching lounge duties (Octavinelle dorm students) ・Phone call (dad) ・Mountaineering rucksack (parents)

Presents Given by Jade:

・Self-concocted blend of black tea (to Riddle) ・A laundry kit including expensive detergent (to Ruggie) ・High-quality towel (to Ruggie)

・Unspecified, scentlesss gift (to Jack) ・Prank (with Floyd, for Azul) ・Cake at midnight (with Floyd, for Azul)

・Special brew of tea (to Azul) ・Shoes (to Floyd) ・Tiny bottle of sea glass (to Kalim)

・Terrarium filled with greenery (to Kalim) ・Birthday card sent via mail (to Jamil)