#cold-pressure-washers

[lockheed-martin-unofficial]

My headcanon is that the average body temperature of cybertronians isn’t necessarily extremely cold or extremely hot. Their spark (+ engine if they have one? I have no idea, entirely different can of worms) and therefore their chests & maybe heads would be very warm, but limbs would get colder very quickly the farther they are from that core. In comparison, a human’s body temp is far more uniformly distributed.

I imagine they usually recycle at least some of their excess body heat into energy similar to the way some cars charge their batteries while braking, but when they’re generating too much heat or when they don’t need it (maybe the environment is already hot, they’re doing a lot of activity or they are trying to recharge) they’ll just vent it out using cooling fans. Depending on the season, this might be great for a human trying to sleep beside them or really annoying.

I would guess that heat bothers them more than cold (Starscream being an outlier, he probably just likes to complain since planes are SUPPOSED to be in very cold temperatures always) since they can walk around in space just fine, so I imagine em just going “yknow what. Fuck it.” And maxing out their cooling fans while they try to recharge. Or whenever it’s remotely warm. It is very loud.

I don’t know enough about cars to say this confidently but you know how in some small cars maxing out the air conditioning will cause a noticeable power reduction? That probably wouldn’t happen as much with an alien robot, but imagine a relatively smaller and younger cybertronian able to either move around or cool down, never both at the same time. It’d be funny methinks. Everybody else laughs at them.

Makes me wonder how their relationship with water would be. I doubt cybertronians would rust easily, so it’d be funny to go for a walk by the lake one morning and see a bunch of cars just standing halfway in the water with steam evaporating from them. Robots In Disguise™️ trying to cool down. I’m gonna draw a comic about that eventually.

Team Prime deserves an industrial grade pressure washer. Let Miko wield it. As a treat. She’s fully sane and can be trusted with ice cold pressurised water to blast her robot pals with. Also maybe Jack and Raf occasionally.

[starstorm2]

Echo Ice bucket challenge go.

[pupkou]

i’m moving out of my first apartment tomorrow and i am sad </3

[vootclean]

https://vootclean.com/product-category/cold-water-high-pressure - In the area of industrial and residential cleaning, efficiency and power are the ultimate. Cold water high pressure machines stand as indispensable tools in achieving optimal cleanliness.

[subabookmark]

Best Hot Petrol Diesel Pressure Washer in Australia

Powerblast has been supplying specialist commercial cleaning equipment through our dealer network for industries requiring premium quality, high-pressure cleaning equipment across Australia. Thus, Power Blast offers a wide range of high-pressure cleaners and sweepers. We also stock a large range of accessories and spare parts to ensure your machine is always operating at its peak capabilities.

[industryupdate]

Global Pandemic Fuelled the Usage of Pressure Washers

A pressure washer is not as complex as it sounds. It is a simple water pump equipped with an electric motor. The water is taken through the faucet to the washer. The pump accelerates the water at high pressure and then squirts it from the hose at a speed through a trigger gun. Get the sample pages of this report: https://bit.ly/3xc3iXb Water Inlet: It is a hose that connects the main water…

[leaky-bunny]

doing dorm laundry with a full bladder is such an exhilarating experience.

i'm at about an 8.5/10 on the desperation scale, and i haven't peed in over 7 hours. my bladder feels round and swollen, and i keep getting waves of desperation that leave me flushed and warm.

so, naturally, i decided it was time to do some chores!

when i took the elevator alone down to the basement, the jostling motion was enough to make me whimper and press my legs together. i thought i was going to leak, so i shoved my hand between my legs for just a moment, but long enough to where i got accidentally riled up from the pressure on my clit. (or was it an accident?) then, the doors opened and i had to pretend everything was fine again. i decided since the washing cycle is only a half hour, it would be silly to go all the way up back to my room. instead, i've tucked myself away in a back corner to wait it out. my legs are bouncing and twisted up and because i waited too long to do the laundry, i'm wearing pants that are slightly too small and squeeze my bladder to the point where bending over adds a dizzying amount of pressure. my bladder is aching with the need to finally be let piss, and the sounds of the washers sloshing does not help in the slightest. i feel like this should be considered a form of torture, especially when i have to eventually move the cold, sopping wet clothes into the dryer. :0

let me know if you guys want to be updated~ i'm planning on holding during the drying cycle too (another whole hour).

edit: the rest of the story is in my reblog!! ;)

[desire-mona]

abed headcanons because im autistic and bitches be projecting

big fan of deep pressure, has a weighted blanket but ideally someones putting all their body weight on top of him

can drive but hates it because its FUCKING BORIIIIINNNGGG

doesn't have a very expansive music taste, when he likes a song he listens to it on loop for weeks

has received the same novelty popcorn bucket as a gift 10+ times bc his relatives have no idea what to give him and just google "gifts for movie lovers"

britta offered him an edible one (1) total time and he got so overstimulated he passed out and slept for 15 hours

has ARFID and there's a list of his safe foods on the fridge in the trobedison apartment

has very sweaty hands. like if you high five him it'll splash. troy is used to it (cuz they hold hands) but if anyone else finds out theyre like AH OH GOD WHAT THE FUCK WHY ARE YOU DAMP

either loves or hates scott pilgrim vs. the world. i cant decide so neither can he.

reads the books that have movie adaptations bc dedication but doesn't have a great time

has a head jerk tic when he's cold (i have this too its very annoying)

"troy and abed in the mooooornin" vocal stim at random times

FFFFFUCKING LOVED trick or treating as a kid cuz the interactions were so cut and dry. "trick or treat" and "thank you". Perfect.

nobody is ever allowed to touch his feet. ever. under any circumstances.

lucid dreams basically every night but thinks thats just what Normal Dreaming is

got along very well with his teachers. "delight to have in class" energy

#1 sherpa hater, the most evil texture

always bites his nails bc the thought of long nails makes him wanna throw up

hate hate hates the smell of drool or saliva in general

compulsive hand washer, especially after touching a bad texture

has glasses but doesn't wear them. the feeling of anything on his face is Not Good

in the same vein, has a love hate relationship with headphones cuz they hurt his ears after a while

gets viscerally angry when someone says male gaze/ female gaze in reference to a real person. its a film term!!

has been told on many occasions that he has a "nice podcasting voice"

often pirates new movies because movie theatres are a nightmare but he will Pass Away if he hears spoilers

hhhhhhHHHHHAAAAAAATES opening gifts at parties cuz he has no idea how to react

shaves his legs bc if he feels hair against his pants he Will have a breakdown

wore the same pyjamas Every Single Night for a year as a kid

was a shorts year round kid in middle school

probably nonbinary but thats neither here nor there

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Blind Offer 4

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, manipulation, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After a leak causes you to evacuate your apartment, your landlord offers a vacant unit that’s too good to be true. (short!plus!reader)

Character: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Lloyd Hansen, and August Walker

Note: Monday was like a punch in the face. This is one of my Corrupt-A-Wish requests but I won’t reveal which one right away because it’ll be part of the plot!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you like I love turning intended one shots into series. Take care. 💖

It’s not often you manage to sleep in. It’s a true feat for you to wake up after nine on your days off and not lay wakeless and frustrated at six in the morning. Despite this, you feel less than rejuvenated. In fact, you’re exhausted as you sit up and rub your eyes with the heels of your hand.

Dizziness follows you from the bed as you stumble to the bathroom. After letting out the pressure in your bladder, you rinse your face with cold water in an attempt to chase away the dregs of fatigue. You grumble and leave your reflection in the dark.

You snatch up your phone and head downstairs. You flip through your notifs, including a message from your landlord. You’re not entirely surprised by the good night. He seems to struggle with his social filter and timing. Sending you sweet dreams after midnight isn’t exactly sauve.

Whatever. He’s a bit strange but he could’ve lied and charged you for the washer. He could’ve even made you pay for a hotel. As odd as this whole arrangement has become, your complaints can’t outweigh the trouble saved.

You set up the coffee machine to brew and turn to lean in the crook of the counter, enamoured with your phone. You know it’s bad to just sit there staring at a screen at first light but you’re slightly disoriented. You feel like you have to do something to keep from thinking too much.

The coffee is a bit strong. You choke it down as you bring up your inbox. Maybe you should check in about the apartment. Today would be perfect to get back to normal. You have a stretch of five days coming up and you would rather not be scrambling to pack up on a work night.

You bring up Steve’s chat and ignore his last text; ‘sweet dreams, sweetheart ✨’. That’s better left unacknowledged. 

‘Hey, wondering what it’s looking like at my apartment. When do you think it’ll be ready?’

You hit send and stare into the depth of your coffee. The taste isn’t what you’re used to. You like a lighter roast over the smoky dark flavour. You force it down for the much-needed dose of caffeine and rinse the cup. You pause and stare at the dish rack. It’s empty.

You set your glass inside and reach to open the cupboard above. All the dishes are neatly stacked. The plate you used last night set with the rest. The pans are away and the cutlery too. You swore you left them to dry.

You shake off the ripple of unease. Your phone buzzes and you look down at the incoming call. He can’t just text?

You answer it, clearing your throat before you croak out a hello.

“Hey, uh, sorry I haven’t updated you. Been pretty busy,” Steve jumps right in. You can hear activity on his end of the line, “it’s not looking like this will be done today.”

“Oh, really?” You sigh, “well, okay. Thanks for letting me know–”

“Rogers–” Someone calls from his end and he quickly shushes them.

“Yeah, it’s turning out to be a bigger issue than I thought but if you need anything at all, let me know.”

“Of course, thanks. Um, I’ll let you go. You sound pretty busy.”

“Just a lit–”

The line cuts off. You pull the phone away from your cheek and look at the screen. The timer is paused and the call moves to your history. You’re sure if there’s anything important, Steve will call you back.

You bring up the tab viewer and clear away all the windows. You open a new app and stare at the logo, waiting for it to load. It doesn’t. You close out and try again. Hmm. You pull down the menu and check the wifi; connected without internet. Really?

You notice the bars at the top of your phone are gone too, a circle with a line blink over them. No service either. What the hell? A tower might be out. You put your phone screen down and leave it in the kitchen. You’ll give it twenty and hope it’s back up once you’re dressed.

Upstairs, you dig out an outfit to lounge around in and start on your daily routine. Brush your teeth, cleanse, moisturise, the very basics that make you feel human. Usually, the process renews you but today, everything is a task. You feel and look drawn.

You pull on your lavender sweat and plain white tank. You go back downstairs and retrieve your phone. Still no signal. That means you have to entertain yourself. Or… maybe you can find a coffee shop with a functioning hotspot. You could use something sweet after the bitter dark roast.

You pull on your sneakers and slide your phone into your purse. You jingle the keys as you approach the door. You tend to use the doorcode, it’s just easier, but just in case the wifi is messing with the system. You flip the latch back then grab the handle and twist.

The door doesn’t budge. You try again, yanking harder. You use both hands, pulling on it until you’re out of breath. What the fuck? Are you locked in?

You go to the small box mounted beside the door and check the screen. Armed and secured. Okay? You punch in the code Steve sent you but the thing just beeps at you five times and shows ‘incorrect passcode’. You try again, making sure you punch it in slowly so you don’t get any numbers backwards. The same incessant beeping sounds.

“Ugh!” You cross your arms and step back. You can’t even call Steve to tell him.

You fish out your phone and raise it above you. You walk through each room, trying to find a signal. Nothing. You sniff and try to disconnect and reconnect to the wifi. It doesn’t work. You don’t even know where the router is to reset it.

Panic starts to crawl its way up your body. This is so strange. You’re trapped here, alone, isolated. On your day off, too.

You put your purse down and your phone and go to the window in the front room. Try to push it open but it won’t move. The clasp does nothing to free it and your distress begins to build. What is going on?

You lean forward and look outside, hoping you might chance on an elusive neighbour or a passerby. Nothing. The street is just as empty as usual. 

What do you do? Just sit and wait? You’re at a loss.

You stagger back and fall heavily onto the couch, holding your head in your hands. Something isn’t right, you can feel it, but your mind nips at your intuition. It’s nothing. These things happen. Bad luck comes in threes; broken washer, shitty encounters, and now, you’re cut off from the world. 

You’re through the worst, right?

🖤

You doze off in the tedium of your new wireless existence. You don’t realise until you come too, face down on the leather couch with an arm hanging down to the floor. You bend your elbow and push yourself up, a pang sparking across your lower back from the stiff cushions. You look around, searching for your bearings.

You lean forward and take your phone. It’s been almost two hours since the world shut you out. The service bar is still blinking and the wireless is still disconnected. Goddamn it!

You climb to your feet and shake your head, trying to free yourself from the cobwebs. You’re hungry. You should eat. It’ll give you something to do.

You take out the prepackaged salad in a plastic container. You should eat it before it starts to wilt. You pop the lid off and add the little packets of nuts and cranberries, then drizzle over the dressing. You stir around the leaves, coating them with the oily vinaigrette.

You eat slowly, staring at the fridge and the touchscreen set into it. Fancy fridge. Fancy everything in this place. You almost miss the simplicity of your rattling fridge and leaky washer.

You get about halfway through the salad and give up on the dry kale. Not enough dressing in the world can make that good. You close up the container and put it back in the fridge.

You trail back up the hall to the entryway. You grab the handle again, wrench as you pull on it with all your might. You plant your feet and grunt, fighting to pull it from the frame. You stop and flip the latch, thinking maybe you accidentally locked it. Nope, still stuck.

“It’s not going to open,” a voice echoes from the high ceilings.

You spin and press your back to the door, looking around frantically for the intruder. You don’t know that voice. There’s no one there. Oh god, are you going crazy?

“What the fuck is going on?” You ask aloud, cringing as you realise that is definitely insane. You’re talking to a house.

“I said, it won’t open,” the deep timbre comes again. You gulp.

“Wh- where are you? What– Who–” you sputter, confused at what’s going on. You push away from the door and spin, searching for a shadow or ghost. Whatever it is that’s possessed this place.

“I can see you but you can’t see me,” the narrator says.

You still and turn back to face the security box. Still armed and secured. You pivot slowly, searching the walls and the corners.

Even if you found the cameras, what would you do?”

You squeak and clap your hands together. Okay, this is fucked up. This has to be a nightmare. You close your eyes and bow your head, willing yourself to wake up.

“Rogers is right. You’re a nervous one.”

You pop your head up and stare at the ceiling, “what are you talking about? What is going on?”

The voice laughs. You shake your head as you sink your nails into the back of your hands, clenching them tight. Your heart pounds behind your ears, spinning your head.

“Steve? You know Steve?” You ask desperately.

“Doll, you can ask all the questions you want. You give answers, I don’t.”

You whimper, eyes wetting in horror. This can’t be real. It can’t be. Whatever this is, Steve will come and let you out. Whoever this creep is who hacked his system if just fucking with you.

“Shut up,” you snap, “you… you weirdo. What the fuck?”

“You got a filthy mouth,” he rebukes, “lady’s shouldn’t talk like that.”

You reel and stammer. You scoff and pull your hands apart, trying to steady yourself, “fuck you, dude. Men shouldn’t be doing whatever the fuck it is you’re doing. Spying on me, or whatever.”

There’s a click and silence. You wait for a response. Nothing. You spin again, searching. “Hello?”

Your voice reverberates around you. No answer. Just the still, stolid silence of the house.

A low whir underlines the quiet and you face the door again. The narrow windows along either side begin to disappear. You can’t believe your eyes. Black barriers descend over the glass and block out the sun.

You rush into the front room, finding the same thing on the wide bay window. You rush over but can’t stop it, recoiling before the barrier can crush you. Shit, shit, shit. 

“What is happening?” You holler as you face the open room.

Again, you’re left with your own question. You don’t get it. Is this a joke? Wait, what if this isn’t Steve’s place? You were always told not to trust a landlord…

🖤

You pace and pace until your legs give out. You're weak and wilted. Your mind as addled as your body. You don't get it!

You cry out, begging for an answer; what's happening? Who is this bodiless voice? What do they want from you?

Is this what it's like to snap? To enter psychosis? It can't be real yet you don't think you could machinate such a fantastical terror on your own.

You lay in a heap on the floor, waiting for whatever comes next. It's all you can do. Your fingers are bruised and scraped from clawing at the door and windows. Your eyes are swollen from the flow of tears that rises without permission only to recede to a pulsing anger that makes your skull throb.

You hear a jingle. Digital and bubbly. You pop up and reach for your phone. You keep it on vibrate but you never know. No change. No service.

You huff. What the fuck was that? You clasp your phone tight and wobble to your feet. You walk between the couch and the low coffee table, following the jingle as it sounds again.

You enter the kitchen and find the screen of the Amazon Echo flashing at you from the counter. Where it once displayed the time and weather, you see a blaring font. You get closer and lean in to read it.

'Go to your room. Put the dress on.'

You blink. Huh? What dress? You don't wear dresses. You shake your head and stand straight, looking up at the ceiling.

The device chimes again. You read the new message. 'Do it.'

You sigh. What the hell is this dystopian fever dream?

The screen clears, a new message; 'bad girl, your disobedience has been noted.'

Your chest knots. You don't like the sound of that. It's both frightening and enraging.

You tap the screen. Maybe you can access something through there. Maybe get the wifi working. It does the respond to your touch, it changes again.

'Turn around.'

You retract your hand and stand stalk straight. Eyes wide. You quiver as you slowly shift around. You shield yourself, expecting someone to be waiting for you.

You only find the small flatscreen mounted in the corner of the kitchen lit up. The TV screen plays the very scene you stand in. You get closer, lowering your arm as the figure on the screen does the same. The angle is high, you follow it up to the corner.

You take as step back and glance again at the smart screen on the counter. You jump as music erupts from it, a song you know, that you heard recently. 

'The world is a vampire Sent to drain Secret destroyers Hold you up to the flames And what do I get for my pain? Betrayed desires And a piece of the game'

Another message blips up on the screen. You near, hugging yourself as you read it.

'Last chance.'

You shudder and nearly swallow your tongue. You should be defiant. Be strong and stand your ground. You're utterly terrified. Is it Steve? Did he do this?

You turn solemnly away, accepting defeat. You enter the front room and almost in a trance, traipse up the stairs and down the hall. You stop in the doorway of the bedroom. You gasp.

There's a dress on your bed. It wasn't there before. You've never seen it. The red checker pattern, the wrap cut. It's old fashioned in a way. 

The music wafts up louder from the first floor. You spin back to the empty hallway. Someone else was here… are they still there?

[jellyfishoreo1206]

I really liked your Gavril fics and your drawings! Can I request mayhaps something like a date night with Gav? And cuddles please ;;;

OFC OFC I APOLOGIZE FOR BEING SO LATE THOUGH

Date night with Gavril

Date nights are a pretty...much unspoken topic with Gavril

Considering he's being chased by the FBI

Not that you know ofc

Because of that he could be a bit anxious whenever it means going out into a public setting

Though if he did agree to a date it would be under two conditions

To be in a private setting

And cheese

Lots of it

"Gav?" The call of his name causes him to turn his head towards your direction, a casual smile on his face once he saw you standing at the doorway of the living room, giving you a slightly playful wave. His coat was currently in the washer right now, as he accidentally fell into some "mud" on his way here. Though it didn't look like mud.. Do you believe him? No. Are you gonna pretend you do? Yes. Blissful ignorance your cousin has told you a multiple amount of times when you were younger, "Yes?" He calls out, watching as you approached him and sit next to him on the couch, leaning into him as you visibly melt into him.

He mostly kept to himself at the start at the relationship, not really seeing the point in physical touch or not used to actually talking with someone, though once the relationship progressed he quite literally melted into you whenever the chance pops up, both physically and emotionally. Which is what he did, melting into you as he sucks up the warmth from your skin as he wraps his arms around your waist.

"How are you always so cold??" Questioning it as you let out a small shiver, goosebumps already appearing, wrapping your arms around him as best as you could without pulling a muscle due to the uncomfortable position you were in. God, you should've knew he would have been such a cuddly guy, otherwise you'd choose a more comfortable position.

Damn your aging body for cursing you.

"Mm, I don't know, my dear." He replied to your response with a playful tone, his signature grin plastered onto his face. You don't know what it was about his grin, but it just..suits him. Like, way too well. Though it gives you some sort of butterflies whenever he grins at you, hell even when he smiles at you does your stomach do backflips. Huffing out a chuckle, the two of you just sit on the couch for a bit.

"Did you need something?"

"I wanted to ask you about something.."

You could tell you caught his interest, as he seemingly pulled your body a bit closer to him, waiting for you to continue. It was to say a bit nerve wracking to ask him a question like this, but you wanted the two of you to go on a date together. But you're not really sure how he would react as he was mostly isolated from the rest of society and going out would probably not be enjoyable for him and cause for him to be vary alert.

"Would it be alright if we went out? Like not anything special or anything just, somewhere private.."

When you didn't get a response, you were afraid for the worst, preparing to take it back before you felt a soft pressure being placed on the top of your head. "Sure, I don't see why not."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

It will probably depend on how long you guys have been together for

But if you've been together for a while then he'll say yes

But conditions will still apply

Like privacy away from the noise and the people

An ideal first date would probably be either stargazing or just taking a walk around the park together

Or if you like the risk, exploring abandoned places or jumping roofs/buildings with him

Regrettably, you forgot how cold it gets in the winter.

Especially in the nighttime.

Though that didn't really matter right now as you finally get to go out with Gavril! Nothing special of course, but it was going good so far.

A while back you've discovered an abandoned park while doing your daily errands and you've been wanting to explore it for some time now. It's insanely overgrown and seemed to be untouched and going in alone didn't seem like a bad idea to you but after some thought it would've been better if you went with someone else.

Which is what you and Gavril are doing now. Since there was a gate restricting anyone from coming in, both of you decided to climb over it, which you struggled quite a bit. Gavril obviously didn't since he was quite used to doing these types of things, but he did get a good laugh out of it as he watched you struggle to get off the top of the fence without ripping your pants.

He helped you though. With that signature smirk of his plastered onto his face.

It would probably only be a walk and maybe even a small picnic

But usually it'll be stargazing or just cuddle sessions

Just a little guy with his cheese

[whumpsday]

I would like to spray Kane with a pressure washer after he's been in the sun all day. Sure it's cold water, it probably feels nice to some degree, but it's also. Yknow. Flaying him.

There's a muffled scream from behind Kane's fused-together lips. He can't even try to move or curl up to protect himself: he can barely move after being burned alive for so long. He just wants the pain to stop, but there's nothing he can do. He can't even beg, no matter how much he pleads in his mind for someone to put an end to his suffering.

[whump-or-whatever]

Ways to Bathe Captive Whumpees

Don’t. Let them fester in their own filth

Just spray them with febreeze or deodorant

Spray them down with a hose

Spray them down with a pressure washer. Painfully.

Give them a bucket of cold water

Throw a bucket of cold water on them

Give them soap and a cloth and some water

Give them a pack of wet wipes

Give them a shower/bath in a limited time

Unlimited shower/ bath

Shower/bath but whumper must bathe them

Shower/bath but only as a show in front of others

Bathe them only as a reward for good behaviour

Magic?

Feel free to add others!

[ravenrune]

Quick and simple Carlos x reader fic. No warnings. Domestic fluff. 739 words.

Enjoy?

Sorry, no title. I couldn't think of one.

Carlos was sitting at the table, staring outside. He was bored beyond belief, and you wouldn’t be home for another half hour. He had the day off, but everyone he could’ve been hanging out with was at work, so he just spent the entire day alone.

He’d already cooked and cleaned the kitchen, and now he didn’t know what to do.

Feeling a bit restless, he got up and walked upstairs. Maybe there were some chores left unfinished, and he thought it would be nice to have them done before you’d get home. At least then, you two would get to spend the evening together without having to worry about boring housework that had been left unfinished.

After he had made his way into the bathroom, an idea popped up in his head. Carlos knew you’d be tired when you got home. He knew your feet would be hurting because you’d be walking a lot at work today.

So, what could be better than taking a nice, hot bath after such a long day at work?

He wouldn’t mind taking a bath himself, either. He hadn’t been too busy, but the mission he’d been sent on about a week ago still had his muscles aching on random occasions.

Pleased with himself, he turned on the hot water and allowed it to slowly fill the tub. Considering the size of the tub, Carlos figured it should be done and sufficiently warm by the time you’d get home. After pouring in a little bit of lavender-scented bath oil, he went back downstairs and headed into the kitchen. Dinner could probably wait for an hour or two, but he did want you to have something to drink and snack on in the tub because you’d probably be ravenous.

You returned home while Carlos was upstairs, still setting things up.

“Carlos?” You yelled. “You home?”

“Right here, babe,” his voice came from upstairs. “You had a good day?”

You took off your jacket and dropped it on the couch. You’d put it away later. “Kinda?” You replied as you watched your man come downstairs. “It was rough, though. Way too much walking for a job like that.”

“I thought so,” Carlos said, walking up to you and pulling you into a warm embrace. “It’s nice to have you here again. I was getting so bored.”

“Hey, I just got back, I probably smell bad!” You protested, trying to step away from him.

Carlos laughed and didn’t let go. “Don’t care,” he muttered, burying his face in your hair. “Buuut if that bothers you, I got just the thing to make you a little less stinky!”

You frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Well,” Carlos stepped away and smirked. “I bought a pressure washer, so I guess I can try it out on you.”

“What? Do you know how cold that water is and how powerful those things are? We’re not doing that! I need my skin, you know?”

He laughed again. He loved teasing you; it amused him to see your reactions to the nonsense he’d sometimes come up with. “Nah, just kidding. I prepared you — I mean us — a bath.” He grabbed your hand and started dragging you towards the stairs. “Let’s go. It should be done by now.”

Glorious; after such a long day at work, that’s how it felt to get into the hot water. The warm water made you feel a bit sleepy, and you leaned your head against Carlos’ chest. “This is great,” you sighed. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.” Carlos smiled and placed his hands around your waist. “I figured you’d need it.”

“I guess I did.”

“Do you want a snack? Figured you’d be hungry, too.”

You laughed, looking at the snacks on the little side table next to the tub. “In a minute, I want to snuggle a bit first.” You hesitated for a second. It always felt a bit uncomfortable to bare your feelings to him, even though you knew he loved it whenever you did so. You always seem to know exactly what I need for some reason… I don’t really know what I’d do without you anymore.”

Carlos smiled as his heart filled with an overwhelming sense of joy. “Good thing you’ll never have to do without me then, huh?”

[bangtanhoneys]

BTS & Grace: Cuddles

Seokjin

It had been a very long day. Dance practice, interviews, meetings for comebacks, endless of hours in front of mirrors for hair and make-up. It didn’t help that it was near monsoon season and it was pouring with rain, leaving it cold and damp and everyone was feeling generally miserable. They had made it home around 9pm, having stopped off somewhere to eat and dragged their tired bodies home. 

The moment the front door closed behind Seokjin, everyone had disappeared into their respective rooms or bathrooms. Not that he blamed them, he very much wanted a hot shower and his pyjamas and maybe an hour or two on the switch before he went to sleep. 

However, there were things that needed to be done before that. Dishes from the past two days were covering the kitchen counters and washing needed to be put in the washer and then dryer and he also needed to double-check the groceries because he was sure they were running out.

With all this running through his mind, it surprised him to find Grace already dealing with the mountain of dishes. “I’m happy doing this if you want to do the washing and then I can have a look at our groceries.”

It was almost as if she read his mind. 

With a grin and a nod, Seokjin grabbed all the laundry he could find and shoved it into the washer, putting it on. And with a shower free, he jumped in and got changed into his pyjamas. By the time he was finished with all that, Grace had already cleaned the kitchen, made a shopping list and got into her own pyjamas and was in front of the TV in the living room. 

“At least we have tomorrow off,” Seokjin groaned as he sat down next to her on the couch, pulling the blanket over the two of them as Grace settled into his side with her cheek on his chest. 

“And we start all over again,” she mused, finding some random TV program to put on for the two of them while Seokjin wrapped his arms around her, pulling the blanket closer. 

“Tomorrow’s a new day and we start all over again.”

Yoongi

They were called two cats in a pod for a reason and it wasn’t just that they had similar personalities or characteristics, it was in the way they were patient but impatient at the same time. They didn’t mind the waiting but they hated waiting for the wrong reasons. Another KPop group goes on before them because of someone's error, they're pissed because it means more waiting. Of course, it’s never said but you can see it bubbling. 

Today was one of those days. 

Rehearsals had been delayed because of some error or because of someone not doing their job properly. The others utilised their time with their phones or with the staff, doing some interviews here and there or even sleeping. 

For Yoongi and Grace, they were wide awake with very little to do. They played a game on their phones which they had connected together but they soon got bored of that. Even trying to read one of Namjoon’s books had done nothing but make them more bored. 

Grace sighed, adjusting in her chair to cross one leg over the other so she could reach down and rub at her ankles. It was new heel day and these were a killer. However, she assumed (wrongly) that she could wear the heels, die then the day would be over. Not wear the heels, die all day because the dance wouldn’t be happening for another few hours and then crawl to the van. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Yoongi watched Grace with her heels. He wasn’t one for physical affection, even with his sister but he wasn’t exactly going to let her suffer either. Without saying a word, he reached down and pulled her feet up so they draped across his lap. He didn’t say much further as he pulled the high heels off so he lightly massaged away the pain.

“Thank you,” Grace sighed as she leaned forward to press her forehead against his shoulder. He still said nothing but smiled to himself, digging his thumb further into her heel to relieve the pressure. 

Hoseok

Hobi adjusted his phone in his hand, holding it so it was easier on his fingers while the video played. They were at a photoshoot and he was waiting on his turn, having placed fourth in line to go with Grace to follow him. There wasn’t much to do but catch up on his kdramas and his emails while he waited to be called for wardrobe and hair/makeup. 

A light weight to his chest startled him and he almost dropped his phone until he realised who it was. 

“Bored, noona?” Hobi asked, pushing a pillow behind him so there was something supporting his neck and back. 

“Hmm, I got here first but placed fifth. Might as well hang out with you till you're called,” Grace shifted so her head was resting on his chest, her face turned upwards towards the phone where the episode was playing.

“Have you seen this? Do you want me to start again?” he asked, reaching down to run his fingers through her hair.

“No you can keep going, I don’t want to interrupt where you’re up to,” she adjusted slightly but stayed still, letting Hobi play with her hair while the drama played. 

Hobi grinned and turned up the volume a bit, settling in to watch his episode and keep his noona company. He didn’t know how long time had passed but they got five episodes in before he was called so he handed his phone to Grace with the promise that they could continue watching the season but allowing her to catch up on what she had missed so far. 

Namjoon

It was hard being the leader of the group, it was even harder being the mother of the group. She counted every single head as they went out the door, made sure everyone had their phones, passports, ID, games, snacks, etc. and that they had their shoes on. She was the first one there when the first signs of an illness arrived, she was the first one there when someone was sad and she was the first one there if anyone had a solo project. 

Namjoon was the bridge between the band and the company, the one who took the lead in interviews, made sure everyone’s schedules were on track and he was keeping up to date with what everyone was doing. While Seokjin & Yoongi took the title of ‘father’ in the dorms, Namjoon was the ‘father’ in public. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Grace hide a yawn behind her hand and then wince. She had woken up with a sore throat that was leaving her with little to no voice, she was running a bit of a fever and there was a constant supply of tissues nearby. It was rare for Grace to get ill but when she did, she got it bad. 

They were at another award show but thankfully no performance so all they had to do was sit there and smile and collect their awards if they were awarded any. 

Namjoon could see Grace shiver slightly and it wasn’t because of the room. She already had a blanket draped over her legs and as much as she wanted to drape it around her shoulders, she couldn’t at an award ceremony. Without thinking about it, Namjoon shrugged off his blazer and slid it onto her shoulders, tucking the blanket tighter around her legs. 

“Hopefully we won’t be long Gigi,” he muttered as he scooted closer, trying to give her as much warmth as possible. Hobi, who sat next to Grace, saw what was going on and scooted closer as well. 

When there was an advert break, Namjoon felt the weight of Grace’s head on his shoulder and he couldn’t help but grin. It was rare for his noona to show any public affection to her brothers and especially to Namjoon, so the fact she was doing this now he knew she wasn’t well at all. 

Taking her smaller hand in his larger one, he gave it a soft squeeze and tried to rub some warmth into it. When they got home, they would make sure she was given enough medication before bed. 

Jimin

He loved cuddles. He was known as the cuddle monster in the group and it didn’t matter who it was, they were getting cuddled. 

And he had found the perfect partner today. 

They were at another video shoot and while everyone was messing around, giving interviews, playing games and just generally keeping themselves busy, Grace was sat on the sofa with a book in her hand and a cup of tea given by the staff. It was a rare day where she wasn’t getting bugged by someone or had a maknae in her face, demanding attention. She could just sit here and read her book. 

Of course, some plans never go the way they want. 

She glanced down when she felt a weight on her lap and she grinned, seeing Jimin smiling like an angel up at her. “I knew the silence would be too good to last. You’re not messing around with Taehyung and Jungkook?”

“I wanted to spend time with my noona,” he pouted and wiggled so his head was in her lap, turning so his back was against the couch and he could look out at the rest of the group. She said nothing as she put her mug on the nearest table and used her free hand to run through Jimin’s dyed locks. 

After awhile, she changed hands so she ran a hand up and down his chest, keeping the book out of the way and without at any risk of dropping it. He didn’t fall asleep, he was just content to stay in her arms and watch the rest of his brothers cause mischief, watching as Namjoon was scolded once again for breaking something. 

“Can you read to me noona?” he asked after awhile, turning so he looked up at Grace.

“It’s in English but sure,” she shrugged and turned the page after she finished reading the last paragraph and started anew, reading out loud for Jimin who slowly started to close his eyes. 

Taehyung

Taehyung stretched out and wiggled his feet against the carpet, listening to the chaos that was BTS as they moved around the main house that would be their home during In The Soop. His eyes darted over the games, toys, and things they could build as he heard someone play a couple of the keys on the keyboard and then the sound of suitcase wheels. He had already picked his room and had unpacked, wanting to get started on relaxing. 

He didn’t jump when someone else joined him on the carpet, not stretched out but rather sat crosslegged as they poked through some of the games. “Oooh, an English version of Monopoly,” the voice said and Taehyung glanced up to see his noona in her summer shorts and a tank top, her long hair pulled up in a ponytail. “Pity there’s no adult version of cards against humanity.”

Without saying a word, he rolled until his head was on Grace’s thighs.

“Hi,” she chuckled as she looked down. “You look like a bear like that with all this hair,” she added as she gently tugged at the natural waves. 

Taehyung hummed in agreement and continued to watch her as she combed out his hair with her fingers, frowning when she came across a knot and undid it with some gentle tugs. “What are we having for dinner?” Hobi asked as he came back with Jimin and Namjoon, all of them spreading across the floor or the seating. 

“I don’t know what groceries they’ve given us and I don’t know if Jin has anything planned, but I fancy chicken in this weather. Maybe we can get the barbecue on the go and do that instead,” Grace shrugged as her fingers braided Taehyung’s hair without much thought.

“You look like a baby down there,” Jimin laughed as he pulled out his phone to take a picture that would be later sent to the group chat.

“I am today,” Tae said as he shifted without much warning, leaning his back against his noona’s chest which forced her to wrap her arms around his waist to support his weight. 

“Ah is this all I’m going to get while we’re here? Looking after babies and cooking,” she asked, as her body went into automatic rocking mode which Hobi and Jimin started to film. “Listen, stop filming me and get the boys to start bringing the groceries in. Divide what they can and we can store some of it down here or in the campervan.”

Jungkook

He was a crier. It was a known fact.

You couldn’t say to Jungkook ‘Are you crying?’ because it would just start him off and he would just cry over nothing. A little mistake was a huge one for him and he was always in fear of disappointing everyone including ARMY, no matter who told him differently. 

He was sensitive and he couldn’t help it.

Which is how he found himself in Grace’s arms when it was revealed one of their managers was hitting him. It was embarrassing, mentally and physically, and upsetting because he thought he had been doing a good job, and that all was going well. But he was only young, away from his home and away from his mother. 

The moment Grace had stepped through the door, he had flown into her arms. They all knew what was going on and he didn’t see Namjoon, Seokjin and Yoongi step in front of the pair or that Hobi was rubbing his back, Tae and Jimin whispering to him. He just wanted his mother, so Grace was the nearest person. 

“It’s alright Jungkook, don’t worry,” she whispered as she held him close and ran her fingers through his hair. “Noona is here. You’re safe. He won’t hit you again.”

She had to support his weight and drag him out of the practice room, down towards what was their studio and pulled him with her to the couch. 

“Hobi, make sure they don’t kill him. Tae, can you go and get Jungkook some water and maybe a snack? And Jimin, can you go and get Jungkook’s things and maybe inform Sejin-oppa of what’s gone on?” she asked the three young men, still holding Jungkook close. 

They were finally left alone and all she could was hold him close, and whisper nonsense in his ear until he calmed down. When he finally settled and stopped, she realised he had fallen asleep so she adjusted him in her arms so his head was underneath her chin. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you. No one will hurt you again.”

[vootclean]

https://vootclean.com/product-category/cold-water-high-pressure - This can be used in various environments without concerns about heat-related issues. Lower energy consumption and reduced carbon footprint.

[lambsouvlaki]

For the Hell of it - a Visitor

Character: Jason Todd x civilian! Fem!oc

Rating and Warnings: T, violence, swearing.

Word Count: 1968

Summary: A Jason from a different timeline appears in Andy's house. He has the letter 'J' branded on his face.

Masterlist

------

Sometimes it hit Andy that her best friend was an on-again off-again crime lord and an unrepentant killer.

She had a tumultuous relationship with crime herself. She was a felon after all, even if she contested her guilt, it wasn’t a label that came off. Any neat little ideas she was raised with about good people and bad people had been blasted off by the pressure washer of life. 

Sometimes when Jason did something particularly adorable, which was alarmingly frequent, she remembered the new cellmate she got halfway through her sentence. She was in on nonviolent charges but nobody was fooled, she had turned herself in just to get off the streets. That new Red Hood guy had a bone to pick with her. 

The woman stared up at the guard towers in the yard on her first day and asked why there weren’t any spotlights facing outside the prison. She would wake up with a start and stare at through the bars in terror. Every shadow was suspicious. And she wasn’t the only one. Andy, a bookish nineteen year old afraid of making prolonged eye contact, found herself one of few inmates not afraid of the dark.

Really, only the sex workers weren’t afraid of Gotham’s latest nightmare. And wasn’t that bizarre?

Andy once saw Jason cut a radish into a perfect tiny little teddy bear to place atop a bowl of tonkatsu curry, purely because the recipe’s photo included a radish teddy bear and like hell was he going to miss out. This was the man her remorseless murderer cellmate cowered from. Gave up her freedom to escape.

There was that one rumour about a duffel bag of heads. Her cellmate never shut up about it. Andy dismissed it as the invention of terrified thugs with nothing to do on long stints of guard duty.

Having met Jason’s dramatic side, she was pretty sure she owed Cheesewire Wendy an apology.

She still struggled to picture it though. She understood Jason was capable of incredible violence. Intellectually, it was very scary. In practice… in practice she never felt safer than when he was around. Even in the helmet, he flustered her, but she wasn’t afraid of him.

Then she met the Arkham Knight. 

She was on her way home in broad daylight, walking down the corridor of her apartment complex, when she saw a bright strobing light under her own front door. A bizarre sound that made her ears pop rang out and then died at the same time as the light. She frowned, balancing her groceries to rifle through her handbag for her keys, and unlocked the door. 

“Jason, what are you-” She froze. 

She didn’t recognise the man standing in her living room. No, she did recognise him, right down to the way he pointed his gun at her face. He had a ‘J’ branded onto his cheek. In his other hand he loosely held the white and black civilian leather jacket Jason had left here last weekend. 

Andy put her hands up and didn’t move. Her groceries fell to the floor and loose tomatoes and a tin of coconut cream rolled across the hard wood. 

“Shut the door.”

She did as she was told then put her hands back up again. 

He looked at her through cold blue eyes, assessing. He was in military style armour, to her inexperienced eyes, with hard metal plates all over the upper body. A blue and black high tech looking helmet sat high up on his head. He had more weapons on him than she could count.

He had Jason’s face, but not his build, he was shorter, slighter, with pinched features, and there was something hunched about the way he held his upper body.  There was no bat on his chest. 

“You know me.” His voice was unmistakable. 

“I… I don’t know if I do.” 

His lips pursed and he lowered the gun. She didn’t think that was permission to lower her hands. 

“You know the me from this world.” He dropped the jacket on the back of her wheelie chair and cast his eyes over her apartment. Jason’s presence in her life had changed it, sure, but only in small ways. Surely that wasn’t enough to tell him anything? 

What he meant about ‘this world’ was too mad to be true. She stared into blue eyes that had been green for as long as she had known them. He didn’t recognise her. He recognised Jason’s coat. He had a fucking ‘J’ branded onto his face. It was too weird to question when there was a strange man with a gun in her house. 

“Don’t try to deny it. Did he retire from being the perfect and loyal little soldier?” He stalked towards her. “Pretend Gotham is fixed, that he can relax? That he’s safe?” 

“I- I don’t-” she shook her head desperately. “Jason isn’t a soldier. I don’t know what you’re talking about!” 

Maybe he was Jason Todd from another world. But he wasn’t the Red Hood. She had only ever made Jason one promise, and that was to never tell anyone his secret, not even people who already seemed to know. 

He stopped about a foot away from her and glared. Being smaller than her Jason didn’t make him any less terrifying. She blinked frantically, trying to clear the unshed tears of terror from her eyes. She couldn’t go to pieces now, she couldn’t.

After a long moment he scoffed. He stepped back. IF anything he looked kind of put out. She let her hands fall. They were shaking. 

“Can I pick up my things?” she asked.

He grunted. She took it as a yes and crouched down to start rounding up fruit and vegetables. He moved to go look out the windows. She snuck her phone from her pocket, lowered the volume to nothing, and quick-dialled Jason. She put it in the paper grocery bag and put the whole thing on the dining table. 

She cleared her throat and gathered her courage. “What do you want from Jason?” 

He looked at her sidelong. His hands rested lightly on the guns in his thigh holsters. 

“What do you want from me?” she asked. It came out as a rasping whisper. 

“What’s your name?” 

“Andrea.”

“What could I possibly want from you, Andrea?”

“I don’t know. You’re in my apartment. I assumed… for a reason?”

“I can tell you what you should have assumed: that the rest of your life is directly tied to whether or not you piss me off. By, say, calling someone.”

She froze. 

He crossed the room, leisurely, like some prowling creature, and reached over her to grab her phone out of the bag. 

She glimpsed the glowing screen. The green phone symbol for an active call floated over the contact name: ‘Still Has my Casserole Dish’, then the call duration of four minutes and counting. 

The intruder glanced at it, unimpressed. “You can keep the casserole dish,” he said, and ended the call. 

He unclipped one of his guns. 

The windows exploded in a blast of blinding light. 

She didn’t know what happened next, only the sounds of a scuffle, a gun fired twice, and she caught sight of yellow light armour blurring in her compromised vision, before she was standing behind the Signal. 

“Who the hell are you?” the intruder growled, as his helmet snapped down over his face. It’s face lit up with LEDs. 

Signal cocked his head and the LEDs immediately died again half a second before darkness flooded the whole room. The Signal grabbed her and hauled her out the window. 

They were swinging through the air before she fully processed what happened. 

A couple of gunshots followed them, and then silence. 

She looked back, as they stumbled onto a roof.

“Keep going,” Signal said, and pulled her forwards to swing across to a building not in line of sight of her apartment. 

They landed on the bare roof of an abandoned motel. There was no sound of pursuit. It set dread in her stomach. 

What kind of Jason Todd let his target go so easily? Signal looked around, not letting her get too far from him.  

“I don’t know who you’re supposed to be,” an all too familiar voice drawled from above. “Out in the daylight with your meta abilities, but all bats are the same at the end of the day. Predictable.” 

They spun and looked up. Standing perched on the edge of the neighbouring office building was their pursuer. He had a rifle slung over his shoulder. 

Signal stepped in front of Andy and spread his arms. 

A shot rang out, and the foreign Jason staggered forward with a burst of blood. He was hauled backwards before he could fall. Red Hood hit him in the gut.

“Time to get out of here,” Signal said. 

She couldn’t tear her eyes from the sight of the two fighting, what little she could see from this angle at last. 

“We are not hanging around to see the show, lady, they are both shooting live rounds.”

That shook her enough to let him pull her away and swing down to an empty alleyway several blocks away. Andy was beside herself with worry, but Signal wouldn’t let her panic. There were other allies closing in on their location apparently. 

Signal checked her for injuries and made her drink half a bottle of water. A Narrows accent was sneaking its way through the gaps in his suspiciously generic Gotham accent. It was calming. 

“What’s your name?” he asked. 

“Andy. Um. Andrea. But call me Andy.”

“Ha, take that Nightwing.” 

She blinked a couple of times. “What?”

“Hood talks about you all the time. Never says your name though.” He shrugged. “We were curious.” 

“Curious about what?” She asked, both her eyebrows rising. She had to be the least interesting person any of them knew. 

Signal just smiled and shrugged again. She got the feeling she was on the outskirts of some in-joke. 

Before she could chase it up, Red Hood landed heavily on the pavement at the alley’s opening. He was alone.

He stalked towards her, radiating fury and danger. The shaking, panicky thing inside of her chest calmed. He didn’t stop advancing until he was looming over her. 

“Are you hurt?” he asked. The voice modulator did a bad job disguising how upset he was. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” she said, her eyes narrowed in on the cracks over the front of his helmet. Blood was smeared over his side. “Are you-”

“It’s not mine.” 

“And the other guy?” Signal asked. 

“Back to his own universe, I think. He disappeared mid-fight. O’s keeping an eye out in case we have any more visitors.”

Signal nodded. “That’s my cue then. Nice meeting you, Andy!” 

He shot his grapple gun and disappeared into the blinding afternoon light. 

Red Hood let out a shaky breath. He took off his helmet to reveal a domino mask underneath. He ran a hand through his loose curls. 

“You have to be more careful,” he said. “He was going to kill you.”

“He was just in my house, I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Calling me was the right thing, but if Signal wasn’t in the area… I wouldn’t have made it in time.”

She sucked in a shaky breath and let it out again. She grabbed his arm just to steady herself.

He pulled her closer and hugged her tight. He leaned his forehead against hers. 

“Alternate you is a real asshole.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

She scoffed. “You called in the cavalry, you saved the day, you don’t get to be sorry.”

“Maybe.” He cupped the back of her head. She felt safe. “I’m going to teach you how to handle yourself in a situation.”

“I don’t want to be in any situations,” she groused, hiding her head in his jacket. Oh, it was sticky. Gross.

“You’re always getting into a situation.”

She sighed.

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