#garden soap

[ashenoaktradingcompany]

Sometimes, something doesn’t turn out quite right. In the spirit of Bob Ross’ wisdom, we don’t call these “mistakes,” we call them “Happy Little Soaps," and we offer them in discounted bundles.

[gomzdrawfr]

August Doodle requests for my supporters! :p

((fyi they also wanted my oc as a cookie! so that's Raven in the middle :3))

this next one's based on the AU they've been working on, link here!! they draw cool shtuff ;D

some oc stuff too!

kofi membership link

[stellewriites]

pre/poly141 summer thoughts mdni

simon who’s skin is sensitive to the sun, burns after just 15 minutes unless he’s got a factor 50 on, but usually he just layers up to avoid having to reapply. that is until johnny manages to drag him ‘round to his for a bbq with all the lads one sunny day.

after drinking a couple of luke-warm beers. simon’s easily cajoled into taking his shirt off instead of suffering and sweating through it.

“what kind’a numpty wears black, an’ long sleeved at tha’, on a day like this, si? jesus wept, tek it off a’ready.”

the others are all shirtless too, it’s fine simon tells himself as he drapes it over the back of his chair, ignoring the hungry glance price sends him from beneath the rim of his hat.

simon soon feels himself nodding off in one of the lawn chairs next to kyle after filling himself to the brim with john’s cooking - burgers, steaks, ribs, sides; the lot. john price doesn’t fuck around when it comes to showing off behind the grill.

johnny nudges simon slightly as he steals the other empty seat next to him, asks softly if he wants a bit of sunblock on and si can only nod sleepily, knowing he’ll be red raw and sore as fuck in less than ten if he doesn’t. already feels the tingle across his nose warning him to reapply.

he relaxes further at the feel of johnny’s capable hands on his chest, diligent and focused on their task though the odd finger strays to brush his nipples when in reach. he doesn’t mind, sighs in fact when he feels kyle’s hands join johnny’s, petting at his thigh through his too-thick jeans.

“dressed like it’s not 32C, simon. expecting sleet or summat, mate? you do know it’s july, right?”

he slowly blinks his eyes open, lids heavy as he stares at the pair of handsy sergeants; too tired to sharply ask what they were playing at, too tired to pretend to want them to stop. just smiles back across at his captain as he watches, satisfied, from the chair opposite.

simon gets used to the repetitive, firm massaging motions and closes his eyes again when no one speaks. despite his best efforts to soak up the feeling of skin on skin, he nods off feeling comfortable and safe and low-level horny.

wakes up 20 minutes later with sunburn just creeping in on his shoulders and tummy, and when he looks down the crude shape of a sports bra has been blocked out on his chest using the cream leaving the rest of him to burn and tan around it.

johnny and kyle are run ragged for the next month during training, even when they do their very best to make it up to him in their spare time (he hisses without fail every time they drift from licking at his cock to kissing at the irritated red line across his tummy from where his jeans stopped the burn in its tracks).

price only gets off lucky because he has aloe on hand immediately and rubs it in without getting distracted. though as soon as simon’s skin isn’t so raw he’s brushing bristly kisses across his shoulders and down his chest every chance he gets.

simon considers starting to wear his heavy, buckle-laden gear outside of missions over his shirts unless he wants john to continue dragging him into his office to yank up his loose layers to lave at his skin for ten minutes at a time and giving him beard burn in a suspiciously similar pattern to what the sergeants left.

“can’t help m’self when i know what your hidin’ under here, lieutenant. be a shame not to show my appreciation, ‘specially with such easy access.”

photo insp: ‘heat stroke’ by wintam for gqchina

[moongreenlight]

Greek mythology/the Olympians has been my hyperfixation for going on two decades now and I just… Soap as Dionysus.

Always brings a good bottle of wine and a few rooted cuttings of ivy as a housewarming gift. If he’s fixed his attention on you, he’ll also put a few sex toys in the little bag he brings. Puts them right on top for the pleasure of seeing your scramble to try to shove them in a drawer or tuck the whole gift in the closet.

He’s a great time. Has this intoxicating way about him. Like life is a stage and he’s the director. Playful and fun, though a little too enthusiastic at times. Handsy when the two of you hang out. You assume that’s just his nature and excuse it accordingly. Hard not to, gorgeous man that he is. A divine kind of handsome. Like his features are an eons-old amalgamation of all the most beautiful features humans have ever had.

And he gets strangely possessive, even after you’ve been nudging back his wandering hands or putting your hand between his mouth and your neck all night. Borders on vindictive and aggressive if he’s not in the right headspace.

It’s a bit terrifying to see him snapping his teeth in the face of some man at the bar who had only just asked you if you’d wanted a drink. You swear later in the night you see him babbling feverishly to a group of his friends. It sounds like total gibberish, and his friends look even more confused than you feel, but his eyes are wide as saucers and his hands are flying about hazardously. You don’t think much of it after Soap pulls you by the waist to the corner booth and tips a cocktail up to your mouth.

He keeps you out until all hours of the night. Insists on staying jovial. Club-hopping to find the best crowd, best music, best conversation. Keeps you up and active for so long that the confines of reality start to become fuzzy at the edges.

Sexuality expressed through bodies writing and twisting in drunken dance. Bumping up against one another. Collecting strangers and your own sweat in fat beads on your skin that make you shiver when they get heavy enough to trail down the small of your back.

When the room is spinning enough to make you stumble just a bit and you’re unable to do anything but giggle about it, he’s somehow able to make sneaking off into the family bathroom together seem like a good idea. He seems just as drunk as you are, slinging an arm around your shoulders when you walk. Bellowing a laugh when his hand grazes your tit but making no attempt to pull it away.

It’s less easy to be oblivious when you’re in the bathroom together. The muffled music filtering through the bottom of the door. He’s pressing up against you even though now there’s no crowd to excuse his practically grinding his groin on your hip.

It smells like sweat and generic brand bathroom cleaner. You hum when he staggers to the urinal instead of griping at him about how crass it is to take a piss right in front of you. He props himself up on the wall with one hand and a moment after you hear the teeth of his zipper come undone, he lets out a throaty, satisfied groan.

You busy yourself looking in the mirror. Checking your makeup. Seeing if you look as drunk as you feel. It’s filthy. There’s a web of cracks coming from the bottom left where it looks like someone tried to send their fist through to the wall behind it. It makes you a bit dizzy to look at and you have to bend at the waist to get close enough to see the way your mascara has smudged all around your eyes.

And all of a sudden there’s a burning heat behind you. Sickly, feverish heat pressing straight into the pillows of your ass. Soap’s spidery reflection shows up just over your smile sporting a wicked grin. Teeth and eyes flashing.

You try and swat him away, all too used to his comings-on, but he digs his fingers into the fat of your hips bruisingly hard.

“C’mon, hen. Been driving me mad all night. Relax a bit. Jus’ need this. Need you. Please.”

He has to lay flat over your back to hiss in your ear. Teeth clenched like he really needs to put some effort behind his words to sound polite. Like a petulant child who’d just been reminded by their mother to practice manners.

You were practiced in batting back his advances, but for some reason his grit made you falter. His gaze seemed to be burning a hole through you in the mirror. The idea that something inside him was hitting a roaring boil that he couldn’t stop from flowing over made your brain go foggy. The opposite of sobering. His aberrant need was contagious and catching quick.

He smelled like sweat and cheap cologne and dry, sweet wine and woods. Flirty and masculine and overwhelming. And he’s warm and strong behind you, even if he’s pushing his hard cock into you.

Who were you to deny him the pleasure of snapping his hips into your backside a few times? Letting his fingers impatiently tug at the button of your jeans and hastily tug them down with your underwear until they pooled around your ankles?

It didn’t help that the sound of him sending a glob of spit into his hand made you clench around nothing. A familiar warmth gathering between your thighs that made you shift a bit to chase the momentary relief even a touch of friction could provide.

He couldn’t even afford you the decency of pretending not to see. No. Instead he points a spotlight on you and insists you perform for him again. Nudging your legs apart and pressing his thigh flush against your core while purring the filthiest things in your ear.

“Ken I jus’ needed to wear you down, mm? Thought ‘bout this before we went out. Always did get sloppy when you drink. Jus’ needed a little push. That’s it -Jesus- cunt’s so wet. Gonna take good care of her.”

And the club is so packed full of drunken, dancing bodies that hardly anyone notices the way you two stumble out of the bathroom fifteen minutes later. Even though you’re still fumbling with the button of your jeans with shaking hands.

[mothmothmothmothmothmoth]

@angel-eyes-and-devil-hearts

Doodles for On the Run!!! It's taken up so much space in my brain recently <3

[housecow]

I find it strange how you'd like to get so fat that you depend on someone but at the same time you're saying that you wanna do gardening. It's like there is a confrontation between your kink and your regular life...

in fantasy (or with a lot of consideration between me and my feeder) i’d become dependent. realistically, i’ve always dreamt of having my own garden and i think i could keep up with it at over 350lbs tbh

why can’t i have both…… scooter accessible garden pls. with raised beds i won’t have to bend over too much 🥺

bonus. bacon and tomato sandwich w home grown red snapper variety tomatoes, one of the only beefsteak-like varieties that grow in TX 🥳 DELICIOUS w mayo and some black pepper.

[gothghostiie]

Here’s ur invitation to share a funny story from ur childhood and how the boys would react to Kid!Reader doing it, I’ll go first-

I have an oral fixation so I would eat literally anything (mostly just putting stuff in my mouth and playing with it). The highlights were: dirt, cat food, magnets, tiny batteries (?!!???), playdough, pencils, erasers, pens, seatbelts, buttons, and jewelry. I can imagine the extra gray hairs Price would get trying to keep me from putting random stuff in my mouth while Simon just buys a baby leash and calls it a day

omg???😭😭 I'm sobbing about this this is great

so I did a lot of weird shit as a child but something that comes to mind is me kissing everybody and everything?? I was a very loving child

I think, while they think its cute theyre always pulling you away from things you shouldn't be kissing, price is just giggling to himself, gaz is refusing to put you down at this point, soap is cackling to himself watching you kiss the fridge, ghost is just letting you do your thing honestly (unless its dangerous for u)

[imaginal-ai]

"Mahogany x Bridgerton = Fabulous"

[basilandthymegarden]

So, I recently changed my phone background. It has been a picture of my wedding for the last almost two years. Now, it’s this fucker.

Yes, I get jumpscared every time. Yes, that is in fact a picture my husband made for me of Sergeant Johnny “Soap” MacTavish because I have a new favorite comfort character. (He made me a sticker design that I will be putting everywhere.)

[shyravenns]

What can I say? I’m a daemon au kinda gal 

John “Soap” MacTavish and the tiny Peregrine Falcon that is almost always gently perched on his shoulder. Always watching. Always on the lookout for something. They’re an interesting pair to watch, and almost always seemingly at odds with how utterly different they are despite the soul deep bond between them. Johnny with that never ending buzz of excitement that always seems to just barely be contained within in, and his daemon with her almost unnerving stillness as she peers out from the crook of his shoulder. Attentive and all seeing. 

It’s almost comical to see their personalities shift on the battlefield. Johnny covered in blood, sweat, and the occasional feather as he quickly and calmly does exactly what needs to be done as the distant almost jovial cries of a bird (his bird) flies overhead. 

No one dares to question the bond between them. 

--------

Simon “Ghost” Riley doesn't have a daemon. 

It’s a bad rumor that floats around the base, and Ghost’s exploits don’t exactly stop it from spreading. It works in his favor, and it’s funny to see the barely contained surprise (and uneasiness) in the eyes of his enemies when they search for a daemon that simply isn’t there. 

He doesn’t tell them about the snake curled around his neck, and her existence is buried underneath a mountain of paperwork. He likes the pressure of her smooth scales as she tightens around his neck during missions. He can feel her fear and adrenaline pushing him forward at all times. 

He loves her. Or as close to love as someone like him is allowed. 

The one constant in his life. 

But the rumors persist.  

--------

Ghost opening his eyes to feel the slight pressure of clawed talons on his padded shoulders. A touch so light and delicate, he wouldn’t have known if not for the brief flurry of feathers that accompany her. It's a familiar weight, comforting almost.

He stares at her. And she stares at him. Soft brown eyes staring back at him with that faint spark of inner fire that reminds him of her human. A brief understanding passing between them as he sighs and goes back to cleaning his gun. She settles down close to the barely there lump hidden underneath his balaclava, and Ghost can feel the familiar weighted curl around his neck loosen and press into the birds side.

[faguscarolinensis]

Saponaria officinalis / Common Soapwort at the Sarah P. Duke Gardens at Duke University in Durham, NC

[thestudentfarmer]

Wish me luck everyone, it's been since 2020, but I'll be making soap this week~

Pics to come as it gets done :)

[medeaft]

Bathtime with an inflatable turtle (originally: Pancsolás felfújható teknőssel) 2024 Watercolour and ink on paper

The picture may be stylised, but my brother and I and the inflatable turtle and many happy bathtimes just like this one are all real. I just wanted to commemorate this scene, since it's such a happy one.

[delyth-thomas-art]

More art rewards for my lovely Patreon supporters!

[syoddeye]

might fuck around and give the rest of the 141 buff as hell partners

[knightscanfeeltoo]

Makka Pakka, Bravely and Foolishly asks a Mushroom Person if they wanna be Clean...

(I don't think People can wash Mushrooms with Soaps and Sponges but just Pretend Makka Pakka can...)