#method soap

[kidcleancore]

[clarissaweasley-10]

Imagine Gray calling a 911 meeting right after he and Lyra kissed. And then when they all have assembled, he just blurts out something like "I like Lyra Kane and we just kissed"(full stop.) All hell breaks loose with the rest already planning how their (Gray and Lyra's) wedding's gonna be like, the name of their kids and ofc teasing lil Gray bear for finally getting a girl...

P.S- Should l make a fanfic on this?

[laswells-ashtray]

How's the weather there? It's sunny here but I suppose that's a blessing.

Anyways, thoughts on the 141 getting drunk? Like how they act? Laswell too, if you don't mind

Ok bai, stay safe and good luck. Live laugh love frogs

It is dull, dreary and drafty. Scotland to it's core.

I've spoken about two of these, I think but I have opinions on them all.

Kate is a drunk who wants to go home, she misses her wife and her bed. She wants to leave, she will make this known. She doesn't want to be surrounded by other people unless they are her wife and she can use her wife's boobs as a pillow.

John is a romantic drunk but about Nikolai, that's where his attention is centered. If Nikolai is talking then John is staring at him with so much admiration that it's rolling off of him in waves. He's tracing his fingertips up and down Nikolai's arms, tracing scars and petting him like a cat. If he goes out for a smoke and Nik lights his fag with John's then they're gone, they're leaving and you aren't hearing from them again until tomorrow. They remain unapologetic.

Simon gets rosy faced when he drinks, by the end of the night his face is blushing scarlet and he's fr more open to flirting with strangers than normal. Someone gives him the eye? Give him ten minutes and he'll hand his hand on their zipper and their tongue in his mouth in an alley outside. If someone puts an arm around his shoulders, he doesn't tense up even if he's overly aware of their presence. He's more receptive to touch.

Gaz is a giggly drunk, everything is amusing and he'll laugh at the mosyt unfunny jokes courtesy of Ghost. He got drunk on Halloween once and saw a grown man, utterly miserable looking dressed up as a Teletubby with a group of his middled aged friends and laughed so hard he ended up throwing up the last vodka and coke that he'd drank. He's always up for some gossip, he refuses to call it that but it's gossip and he loves it.

Soap is an explorer. Anything over four drinks in and he goes out for a cig, then he decides he wants to go for a walk while he smokes and then twenty minutes later someone is phoning him asking where the fuck did he go because he never came back. He's in a graveyard, taking a very blurry picture of the moon. He is one for a tactical whitey before he returns to the bar though, because it's been his method for drinking since he was a teenager. Drink a fuck ton and do so quickly, end up pished, spew outside and then come back in and drink twice as much. Tried and true method.

[streetchicken]

Class was boring as shit, thanks for asking. Have some cod doodles instead :)

[tanked-up]

She really is

(Part 10 of my collection)

[atopvisenyashill]

let me translate this for you it says: well i saw the rumors about nettles being daemon’s bastard as true and i thought rhaena’s story would be boring tv so i simply combined the two theories for funsies but now that everyone is yelling at me and hurting my feelings i’m wondering if maybe the change is more trouble than it’s worth. i might still do it tho fuck you.

[itwoodbeprefect]

sometimes a piece of queer media is very obviously cheap and also bad and outdated in ways that aren't even particularly interesting, but it's just so obviously from The Before Times that it's painfully difficult not to be charmed by it anyway

[lostwanderer42]

Wrist brace so stinky help

[tobuo]

having a super fun (not fun) time with an eczema flare up on my hands!!! it’s not sore at all (it’s itchy and it hurts) like wow!!!

[groupwest]

turkey skin… almost finished… wooooow o_o

[prlssprfctn]

Alfred, who tries to punish little Jason for something he messed up with by using the same methods he used on Dick — aka. ground him, make him wash dishes and clean the house, or just watching some old reality shows with him — expect... it never works. Jason is actually fucking excited about all of these things.

Alfred: To my attention was brought a fact that you smoked with Commissioner Gordon again. Jason, stuttering: I mean- I- Alfred: Thus, you are punished. I expect all dishes to be cleaned by the time I return home. Jason, confused: Really? Alfred: Yes. Jason, beaming, because cleaning makes him feel better and helps to distract himself: Cool! Thanks, Alfie. Alfred: Excuse me?

Cut to Alfred, who stares in shock as he finds Jason actually enthusiastically washing dishes, while singing along with Whitney Houston.

Alfred: For this punishment, you will... be grounded. Jason: Oh, thank god, guys from school invited me to the cinema, but I didn't want to go, anyway. Alfred: ...And clean up the whole cave. Jason: I actually did this morning! But I can do another round of quick cleaning session if you want, Alfie. Alfred: ...And then you will watch another soap opera with me, lad. Jason, squealing: Cool!

Bruce, staring amusedly on Alfred and Jason, who sew Batman's and Robin's suits, while discussing the new episode of their favourite show: Al, I don't think that's a punishment for a kid... Alfred, frowning: Of course not. I am just spending time with my grandson. Bruce: Mhm-m. What about the punishment for your favourite broken vase? Alfred, who promised to punish anyone who did it this morning, because he thought it was Bruce, and not Jason, who accidentally knocked it off with the tip of his cape: ... Alfred: What vase? Jason: *beaming*

Alfred, solemnly: My boy. I am afraid, this time you truly need to serve your punishment in the order to understand your mistake. Alfred: No Jane Austen adaptations marathon for this Sunday. Jason, in horror: Alfred, no. Please. Alfred: Even more, you are obligated to go out on Sunday, and stay away from doing any additional homework. Jason: NO-O. Dick, who came for holidays, witnessing this for the first time: ... Dick: I think this kid is broken or something.

[kkusuka]

this is in the "141 and john price's wife" universe. still gn pronouns. i also don't think price texts that much- old man syndrome.

the 141 absolutely have a group chat dedicated to pictures and information (porn) about their little wife.

it starts, as many silly things do, with johnny and a picture of you asleep on the couch. cuddled into the armrest covered in the tortilla blanket he'd gotten you as a gag gift, and it was just too good not to share. (although he only sent one of the thirty he actually took, he's gotta keep as much of you to himself as he can.)

then it was kyle with you in the yard, laying in the grass after cutting down branches in the sweltering heat (something john would never let you do if he'd know about it, but he appreciates the flush of your cheeks and the angle of the photo makes it seem as if you were under him doing another strenuous activity.)

and it continues like that for months, cute little pictures of you gardening with price, walking with simon, watching tv between kyle and johnny- just sharing the daily life of their pretty bird.

but the real nature of the group chat doesn’t start until simon sends a picture of you bent over, putting something in the oven, in the tiny, red daisy duke shorts that are only just long enough to be considered inappropriate for the public.

sr: fuckin' lucky that shit only takes 10 minutes to cook or we'd be in the kitchen all day.

soap: fuuuuuuuuckin' hell

kyle: don't rub it in simon, we'll be home in two days

sr: don't worry, i'll warm 'em up for you

price: Behave yourselves.

and it all just unravels from there.

john's the next culprit. he has loads and loads of less than decent pictures of you, perks of being the first husband, but he's not reaching into the stash for this one. he has a point to make: if anyone's getting off to pictures of his wife, he's gonna be the one sending them.

it's barely two hours after the other three left that something is sent into the chat. face down, ass up, cunt dripping with cum as price uses his thumb to keep your pussy open to the camera, the rest of his hand palm down on your ass, the ring on his finger glistening in the flash.

sr: fuckin' filthy captain

soap: BRING ME BACK, PUT ME IN CAPTAIN

kyle: tell 'em i said thank you

it's not surprising that the minute he comes back, johnny's on you. methodically placing the camera, making sure it captures all of you and his face buried between your thighs. it wasn't the first video sent into the chat but it's definitely one of the best ones.

your head thrown back, hands in his hair, gripping what you can so you can grind your pussy on his tongue. his phone is just close enough to hear your small pants and groans as he sucks on your swollen clit.

soap: i could spend the rest of my life right there

sr: you let 'em fuck yer face like that?

soap: lt i'd let 'em gag me

soap: then step on my dick

soap: then leave me on the floor to rot

*kyle, price, and sr disliked three messages*

soap: like you fuckers wouldn't

and kyle is not a man to be left out, but he is also not as keen on sharing his private time with you as johnny is. so there aren't videos coming from him, instead he has 4k close ups of your tits after he spent almost an hour sucking hickeys into every part of your chest he could reach.

and kyle is like an artist, he makes sure your hair is splayed out perfectly, and that you're just fucked out enough to give him a bright smile. he also makes sure that the locket they gave you, the one that's has their names engraved on the inside, sits perfectly above the swell of your boobs. and goddamn is he proud of his pictures. (it's not hard for you to look pretty in pictures because you're already pretty but kyle thinks he's the best at actually capturing it).

soap: another two things i would put my face between until i suffocate

*sr, price, and kyle disliked a message*

soap: go fuck urselves

and simon is just mean, fingers peaking under your panties, finding your clit just to sit there, finger pressed on your bud, only moving for a few seconds before falling still again; his other hand hold your hips down so you can't do anything but wait for him to move again. and he does it the entire length of the manchester game until your panties are completely soaked through.

soap: stone cold, lt. stone cold.

but before he can do anything, he has to take his picture so the other fools can remember what a whore you are for him. and because it's between games he'll let you sit on his dick and grind into him during commercial breaks. maybe he'll even film in and send it to the guys, let them see you drip all over his lap whole stretching to fit him in your cunt.

but whether his team loses or wins, he'll flip you over and fuck you into the couch cushions, so at least you get that!

then they're all away on a mission, and you know about their little chat (it's hard not to when suddenly they have a camera out every time you're in their vicinity.) so you take it upon yourself to give them their fix. and why not play around with them well you're ar it?

it starts when you go shopping merely three days after they left. they tear up your bras and underwear so obviously you would need to buy more eventually. but usually when you go shopping one of them is with you to share their opinions, but since they're away, you just have to send pictures instead!

a whole catalog, in facts. you've got angles, dressing room lighting, and a whole lot of time on your hands.

*you sent 22 photos to 'the bird house'*

you: i can't choose :(((

you: help me out?

kyle: give me 6 hours to fly home and i'll help you with anything

price: Looks great. But I can't tell from the pictures, you'll have to try them all on again when I get home.

soap: licking the screen isn't working, captain i think i need to go home.

*sr saved 22 photos to Camera Roll*

kyle: smooth riley, real smooth.

and of course it doesn't end there. you have a chance to torture them a little bit with zero consequences and you're going to take it.

but it takes a while for you to send videos, usually you send  your outfits, or the tiny bathing suit top you wear while tanning, even one of you in the kitchen in nothing but your tiny apron. (it's the only one that john does not appreciate, popping a boner between briefings as a captain is not hie proudest moment.)

but as the months go longer and longer, you get more and more desperate. your toys are reserved for times like this, a small bullet vibrator and a thick 8-inch dildo. it's nowhere near as nice as fucking your men but it'll have to do for the time being.

and you know them being away is not their fault and they'd be home in an instant if they could choose to be; but if you have to deal with your pent-upness, so do they.

so you set up your phone, leaning it on the lamp that sits on your bedside table, so it captures your entire body, covered only by sheer light-blue lingerie and your locket, as you sink down the length of your dildo, vibrator pressed to your clit. you send four different videos, one for each of them, in the order they came into your life (you think it's cute, they're one picture away from firebombing the whole country they're in and flying home).

you: just something to hold you over until you get back!

kyle: so good for us babe.

soap: yer evil bonnie.

soap: my arm can't keep up with this

sr: birdie thinks it's real funny now

you: i do

sr: not gonna be so funny when we get home, yeah? might have to give you a refresher about what happens teasing birds.

price: 6:30am tomorrow, get everything you need in order because you aren't moving for the foreseeable future.

*you loved a message*

[wormwoodartemisia]

💋

babbler

[historyofguns]

The article "Dish Soap Method of Rattle Can Camo" by Scott Conditt, published on The Armory Life, outlines a DIY approach to spray painting firearms, specifically the AR-15, using dish soap as a stencil tool for creating camouflage patterns. This method involves cleaning the rifle thoroughly, taping off areas that should not get painted, applying a base coat followed by dish soap in patterns, and then adding a main color coat. Once the paint is dried, the dish soap is washed off to reveal unique, organic camo patterns. The process is customizable, affordable, and can be repeated multiple times. The author emphasizes that while the method is inventive and easy, individuals are responsible for the results, and it is essential to understand fully what is needed before attempting such projects.

[gildui]

drabble , domestic simon who loves your tits & wicked 18+ gaslight king

"were you just singing?"

"negative."

"simon, we live alone."

the shower is scalding. his pale, freckled skin aflush under the stream and you yank your hand away, hissing, when you test the waters.

"so?" his stare is dissembling. leering. even more so as he watches you strip through the vinyl. he rubs soap over the dusty curls protecting his hefty softened cock. ruddy, bulbous head drooping under its own weight despite how he gripes it at the base.

gives himself a little tug when you pull back the curtain once more—hand tucked into your armpit, forearm braced over the fat of your tits; prudish, as if his teeth aren't branded into your cleavage—to test the now cooler water.

you cock an eyebrow at him, perplexed.

"it's just us that live here."

"a ghost then."

"our house was only built a few years ago," you snark—all bark, not nearly enough bite—just as his everlasting patience snaps. simon reaches over the threshold of the shower stall, curls a meaty hand around your bicep, and yanks you beneath the water. "how can it be haunted?"

"land, maybe," he supplies unhelpfully, pulling you flush against his front, the print of his dick pressed against the cleft of your ass.

simon hikes his chin over your shoulder—heavy grunts and groans against your ear—and uses his bar of soap as an excuse for his hands to roam over your chest and pinch your nipples between his index and thumb. then, pull.

"just admit you were singing wicked, simon."

his pause is so fleeting that you fail to notice—too caught up in the way he methodically massages your sudsy tits together by testing their weight and jiggle in his palms.

angles them directly into the heated stream, lip curling when you inevitably shudder in oversensitivity.

"was the bodies i buried in the garden."

now it's your turn to pause. jolt, in fact. you squint up at him. equal parts confused and suspicious. maybe it's another shit joke.

"what?"

"cornflowers needed fertilizer." he's dead serious. callouses scraping down your torso to cup over your cunt.

"fuckin' hell—bodies?" you're spitting and the corner of his mouth simply quirks up, his middle finger tracing across your seam, splitting your lips apart for him to notch a fingerpad against your slicked hole.

"only four."

"what?! why? who? the fuck is wrong with you?" your grip is a vice around his wrist, tugging his hand away from paradise. almost as fast as it appeared, simon's smile is wiped off his face.

too soon for him to mention the bodies of your shitty first dates, then.

time to backtrack.

"it was m'singing."

"no. no. why are there bodies buried in our garden?"

"defying gravity's my favourite."

[hellokittyish]

★ thinking about how toji cleans you up after sex — not with the traditional combination of soap and water, but with his tongue. naturally.

the first time it happens, when you collapse against the mattress after countless rounds of intense passion, body aching in every possible crevice and mind hazy with the clouds of leftover pleasure, the last thing you expect is to feel straggly strands of black hair tickling your thighs.

“mmm… toji, what are y’doing?” you murmur tiredly, eyelids droopy as as you gaze down at where he’s currently trailing several lazy, open-mouthed kisses up the skin of your quivering thighs.

“what does it look like, baby?” he rumbles airily between warm brushes of his scarred lips, dark eyes flickering up to meet yours with a hint of amusement glinting in his irises. “gonna clean you up real good.”

“but… ‘m still sensitive there, can’t you just use a damp cloth or something?” you begin to protest, however your words quickly trail off into incoherency once you feel him place a smooch directly upon your abused cunt.

“no can do, pretty,” he huffs lightly, trailing a pudgy thumb down your puffy folds to where his milky cum is still slowly trickling out of your little hole. “i made the mess so i’m gonna be the one who cleans it up.”

“but—”

“no more buts,” toji admonishes with a click of his tongue, wrapping a strong arm around your stomach to keep you in place while he blows a soft, teasing puff of air over your fluttering pussy. “now be quiet and let me do my job.”

…well, when he puts it like that you can’t really think of any sane reason to argue further.

but despite how rough he was just mere moments ago while he was ruthlessly pounding you into the bed, the way he scoops his own sticky release out of you with the tip of his tongue is anything but rough — in fact, it could even be described as gentle.

he’ll keep eye contact with you the entire time too, both pools of greyish-blue locked directly on your own with each drag of his bumpy tastebuds throughout your spongy, hypersensitive walls.

and when he finally deems his work satisfactory and pulls you into his bulky yet tender embrace, you decide maybe toji’s method of cleaning you up isn’t so bad after all.