#favorite angle grinder

[bigmeatpete69420]

There is very little love stronger than a person and their favorite angle grinder.

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (XXIII)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

🖤Chapter navigation can be found here🖤 Click to browse previous updates.

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts 💚 (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)

Where we last left off... J'onn broke the news that Danny thinks he's going to be forced into combat in exchange for his medical care. Everyone disliked that™.

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

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COME GET YOUR NEW ART HERE 💥🍳!!💥 IT'S FIBERCRAFT!!Shoutout to @rainbowbeansprout for crocheting a fic accurate injured ghost Danny!! That's outstanding!!

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So, Wally broke all of the bones in his legs yesterday.

Which is…not ideal. Still. He’s pretty used to it at this point, though, and he’s already mostly healed.

It’s just that. Well.

…The rest of healing is kind of…time-consuming.

So Wally’s in basketball shorts and a mask and a t-shirt he’d started using as pajamas when he was in college and he’s on the med floor of the Watchtower, and yet another physical therapist is helping him bend his leg back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, because he’d tripped in the middle of the Speedforce and busted everything hip-down.

So. (Back, and forth. Back, and forth. Back…) This sucks.

“Do we have to do this every time?” Wally asks, as if there isn’t a team of medical professionals kept on hand to deal with Superpower-wrought Super Medical Problems.

“Do you have to shatter your legs every time?” the PT asks back wryly, which, hey! The pressure pressing up against his bare foot is an additional stressor to the sass. “Bend this more for me, Flash. You can do it.”

Wally grumbles, and pretends the angle his leg is bending at doesn’t make him wince. Wow is he going to have to build his flexibility back up again.

The physical therapy room looks just like any other gym, basically; a lot of squishy mats in playful colors, a lot of grippy tape; a LOT of wipeable vinyl surfaces that can be sanitized at a moment’s notice. It smells kind of weird and plasticky and kind of like alcohol cleaner.

It’s not his favorite room in the Watchtower, but, eh. It could be way worse. What’s unusual is the whirrr of the door opening and closing in one of the private care rooms for another patient, since, you know...HIPAA and all that. Wally assumes. Or is it costume confidentiality once you leave Earth's atmosphere...?

Usually everyone knows who’s stopping in for PE through the sheer power of the Justice League gossip groupchats. (There’s at least nine. Wally’s in four of them. He aspires to be in two more by April.) There hasn’t been a big fight that requires long-term medical care in a while, and there’s no one Wally can think of who’d need this kind of recovery.

Something’s buzzing at the outside of his awareness, though. It sounds kind of…

Wally perks up. “Hey, the alien kid’s here!”

The PT holding Wally up at the waist hums. Her name is Cindy, and judging from their previous conversations, she thinks that Wally is the dumbest man alive. “There’s a million of those, Flash. Which one?”

“The one who bit Superman,” Wally adds.

Judging by the face Cindy makes, this clarifies nothing.

“Most recently,” Wally stresses, carefully not wincing as his leg gets stretched out again, only to be pulled back into position as tightly as before. “OW. Cindy, you’re killing me.”

Cindy makes a strangled noise. She asks: “What, again?” which is how Wally remembers that he got torn back out of the time stream not all that long ago, and it may be a big gauche to joke about your own death with the people who care about it.

Whoops. Wally winces. “…Nevermind?”

The other PTs make various fussy and annoyed noises, but the alien kid is wheeled onto the other side of the medical floor’s only gym. (The actual training floors are on another level. Wally wishes he was there. Alone.)

(Without four PTs clinging to his legs at all times.)

Wally waves. It’s a nice enough gesture, and now that the alien-phantasm-turned-flesh-and-blood-boy is more physically embodied than he used to be, the boy even deigns to carefully wave back.

The kid’s PTs—Wally thinks at least one of them is from the team that supervises Bart and his super-powered-leg-problems—end up encouraging the alien kid’s chair round to the soft mats where the kid can lay down. He ends up in the exact same position Wally is—horizontal on the floor, legs forcibly pinwheeled by enthusiastic but firm PTs.

Wally can physically feel the kid’s astonishment and discontentment buzzing in the air as he figures out what’s being done to him. Wally can’t help but laugh.

The kid angles his head towards the speedster. His face still looks—well, it looks…bad. It looks bad, unhealed and still threatening to weep neon green body fluids; there’s a wet, living crack running up and down his face that makes eye contact kind of hard. His hands are all spidery—this kid can probably hold and grip things, but the previous breakage have left his hands a little too easy to splay, a little too oddly-angled. He’s too thin to keep himself fully upright for long. When he looks at you, his eyes shake like a poorly lined-up television signal.

Martian Manhunter had said that he’d once looked like a healthy, happy human child. His current form is a reflection of the injuries he’d experienced since.

...What a thing for a kid to go through. Wally wouldn’t wish this sort of injury on anyone.

“­Alright, up you go,” the PT above him—Rhys, Wally remembers at the very last second—orders, and Wally is prompted to let the man help him back upright. “Over to the bars for you. You think your legs are up to bearing that kind of weight as you try out walking?”

“…Sure,” Wally lies to Rhys. It’ll be fine. Probably. By the time he gets over there, his legs might have already speed-healed by then. “Hand me the—?”

“Yeah, yeah, here’s the crutches. Don’t destroy yourself trying to make this happen, okay?”

So Wally gets set up at the glorified playground equipment in his least restrictive gym clothes, one long iron bar under one arm, and one long iron bar under the other. Two full-size physical therapists spot him as the speedster completes the most strenuous task available to him at the moment: walking across a very short distance without putting his full weight on his legs.

Wally puts one shaking leg in front of the other. The steps are slow. The urge to zoom to the end of the little bowling lane he’s stuck in—and therefore shatter his legs under the speedforce, again—is irresistibly temping.

Healing sucks. And Wally’s even got the longer end of the stick.

In the end, Wally sticks the landing. He is unreasonably sweaty. He is miserable. But he makes it to the end. Every one of the witnessing PTs applauds as if this is a great success. It’s literally not. It’s the inevitable result of pushing himself too far for the third time this year.

A question buzzes through the air, fluffing through Wally’s hair and the little fine hairs up and down his body. It’s nothing but inquisitive—whatareyoudoing whatareyoudoing?

Wally lets the PT maneuver a chair underneath him. It gives him enough breathing room to turn his upper torso, and he ends up catching the eye of the little alien kid in the corner. He’s sat on a yoga ball, two members of his medical team and one of the kids’ PTs trying to get his attention back to his exercises.

“Hey,” Wally realizes suddenly. “Your casts are gone!”

The kids’ legs are actually bare, which Wally’s never seen before. They’re twiggy, sure, stretched taut over a bone frame, and discolored and pale, but they’re legs. Wally hadn’t even known the alien had possessed legs until he’d formed a physical body months and months ago.

“Dude, that’s great!”

Happy/smug/proud vibrates through the room, making Wally’s teeth buzz. The kid smiles through a half-split lip, and bounces on the yoga ball ever so slightly.

“Good,” the kid says, surprising Wally, his PTs, and the kid’s usual medical team. He was talking already?! He thought J’onn had said—

“Hurt?” the boy asks, concern/concern flooding through the air. Oh. Right. He’s probably here for his busted legs; it would make sense that by virtue of the setting, Wally would be injured too.

And, sure, Wally busted his legs, but he at least heals with all the swiftness of the speedforce. “Meh.” Wally waves off the question. “I’m fine. It’ll be quick for me; some rehab and some lunch and a few days off, and I’ll be in shipshape.”

Wait. Wally’s eyes scrunches up. Is using wordplay appropriate with this kid…?

“Pain?” the kid asks, and turned his attention to the closest member of his medical team. “He pain?”

The medical professional sighs, which finally clues Wally in that the man is no longer masked. Hey, the kid is out of medical isolation! “The Flash has his own medication, thankfully. His doctors know what to do.”

The kid frowns. He doesn’t get it. He looks at Wally, and he looks at the staffer, who shrugs. “It’s the usual indicator word he uses for pain medication. He’s wondering if you’re hurt enough to need some.”

Wally hums. On one hand, it’s sweet that the alien kid is worried about him. It’s a huge step upwards from the alien who spent all his time hiding in abandoned meeting rooms and occasionally biting Superheroes.

On the other hand, the kid doesn’t just look worried that Wally might not be getting care; he looks scared.

Something happened to this kid. Something he can't shake off.

Wally breathes in, and breathes out.

—And breathes in sharply when Cindy starts wiggling his feet. She doesn’t respond at all to his glare, because she is a professional, and he is not a big baby of a superhero.

Mean.

“I’m fine,” Wally finally responds, trying to alleviate the kid’s concerns through sheer vibes-telepathy alone. Who knows if it’s working, but it makes Wally feel better about trying at the very least. “I’ve got my own team to fix me up, and they do a good job of taking care of me. Even if they’re bullying me at my most vulnerable.”

“Anything for you, boss,” Cindy volleys back cheerfully. “Gimme your other leg.”

The tension in the air slowly dissipates. The kid doesn’t stop shooting occasional looks at the unadorned, half-out-of-uniform Flash, but he does let Bart’s little PT team get to working on stretching out his previously-bound now-physical legs and getting him upright—if only for a few seconds at a time, balanced precariously by humans who actually touch his back and arms and hips and legs.

Wally’s session wraps up before the kid’s does. He’s not in any rush. He gets onto the walking crutches Rhys leaves out for his temporary use and lopes over to watch, occasionally hooting and applauding when the kid pulls off something no one’d been sure he could do.

The double handed high-five Wally offers him at the end is punctuated with shaky eye contact, two working hands, and a green-threaded beaming grin.

*

Diana cheerfully digs into her kebab lunch, plastic cutlery pushed to their maximum limit before threatening to break under her prodigious strength. “You know, Batman,” she starts, beaming, “My charge gave me his name the other day.”

Bruce sets down his muenster-ham-and-whole-wheat sandwich mid-bite. “I’ll need to hear everything,” he says immediately, to which Diana tuts.

“Oh, Batman, I could never break his trust like that,” she says, sweet as anything. She finesses a bite of lamb from the skewer and takes a neat bite.

“…Wonder Woman,” Batman says.

“Hm?”

“Diana.”

“Is there something you needed, Bruce?” Diana asks, pleased with herself. There genuinely is very little that could be done with a vague description of a now-altered human form and a first name alone; besides, she genuinely does feel that hearing the boy’s name come from others’ lips would be upsetting for him. Danny offered his name to Diana alone, and so it shall remain until hers alone he offers it to others.

Still, she is not above bragging.

“I need information.” Bruce’s face underneath his mask is stone.

Diana dips a second chunk of lamb into a little container of tzatziki sauce. “Well, then,” she points out, “Shouldn’t you spend some time building rapport with my charge, then?”

The feared Batman of Gotham, father of a half-dozen highly trained heroes, bristles like a wet cat. The demeanor is almost comical. He knows what he looks like to non-Gothamite children. He knows his suit will make this fight for common familiarity an uphill battle.

Diana smugly works through her lunch and ignores Bruce’s silent brooding as he does the same.

[velarisdusk]

Shadows at Twilight

Nesta & Azriel

word count: 2.3k content: [ platonic nesta & azriel, modern au, mention of substance abuse (cocaine), physical altercation, strong language, emotional conflict, family tension, mental health issues, mention of abandonment, mention of smoking (marijuana) ] summary: Azriel and Nesta's Thursday night smoke sessions become a lifeline. As tensions rise, the fragile balance they've been trying to maintain begins to falter. author's note: stoner nesta came to me in a dream but of course i had to make it depressing ✦ . Masterlist . ✦

The soft resonance of guitar strings filled Azriel's small apartment as the evening sun cast long shadows through the blinds. He sat on the edge of his worn couch, fingers absently plucking at the instrument while his eyes focused on the glowing screen of his laptop. With a heavy sigh, he closed the email—another rejection from a local venue.

“Thanks for your submission, but we're not looking for new acts at this time," Az muttered under his breath, mimicking the polite dismissal he'd read too many times before. He set the guitar aside and ran a hand through his dark hair, glancing at the clock on the wall. Nesta would be here soon.

He stood, stretching out the kinks in his back from hunching over his guitar for too long. As he moved to open a window, letting in the cool evening air, Azriel found himself thinking about how these Thursday nights had started — in the aftermath of Feyre, Rhysand, and Nyx's sudden disappearance. He recalled Nesta's frantic call that day, her voice strained with panic as she described the overflowing mailbox and the unanswered calls. She had demanded answers from him, but Azriel had been just as much in the dark.

The memory of that wellness check still felt surreal: entering the eerily quiet house with the police, only to find that impersonal note on the kitchen island. "We're leaving. Please don't look for us." Those words, so final and unexplained, had left a void in their lives that these smoke sessions had somehow started to fill. Az shook his head, pushing away the lingering questions. No use dwelling on it now. He was determined to keep the evening light.

The coffee table became a feast of their favorite munchies: salt and vinegar chips for Nesta, a mix of sweet and spicy nuts for himself, a couple of king-size Reese's cups they'd inevitably fight over, and some sour gummy worms for good measure. Az placed two cans of Cherry Coke next to Nesta's spot and a ginger ale by his. He knew they'd probably end up DoorDashing Taco Bell at some point—their crunchwrap cravings were pretty predictable—but it never hurt to be prepared. As Azriel pulled open the drawer beneath the table, revealing their well-used smoking paraphernalia, a knock sounded at the door.

“S’open!” he called out, quickly arranging the grinder, lighter, papers, and a small jar of pungent bud around the centerpiece.

"Hey," she said, making a beeline for the couch. "Sorry I'm late. Work was absolute chaos today. You wouldn't believe the client I had to deal with." Her hands fluttered as she spoke, the words tumbling out faster than usual. Azriel watched as she sat down, noticing the slight tension in her shoulders and her perfectly manicured nails tapping a relentless rhythm on her knee.

“No worries,” he said, tone neutral as he rolled them a joint each. “Rough day?”

Nesta shrugged, reaching for the TV remote. “Nothing I couldn’t handle. Smiling Friends?”

Azriel leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he angled his body to catch her eye. "Hey, are you sure you're alright? You seem... off."

Nesta's shoulders stiffened slightly. "I said I'm fine, Az. Can we just watch the show?"

As she turned to face him, irritation flickering across her features, Azriel's eyes widened. Even in the dim light of the apartment, he could see her pupils were blown. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut.

"Nes," he said, his voice low and careful, setting the joint down. "What did you take?”

Her defensiveness flared instantly. "What's it to you?"

Azriel's brow furrowed, a mix of concern and dry humor in his tone. "Well, I’d like to know if I should be ordering pizza or calling poison control. Seriously, what’s going on?” His eyes narrowed as he took in Nesta’s jittery movements, the slight sheen of sweat on her forehead. With her dilated pupils, the pieces clicked into place.

"Cocaine, Nesta? Really?" He ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his voice. “What were you thinking?”

Nesta's posture stiffened, her eyes flashing with defiance. "Oh, that's rich coming from you. Don't act all high and mighty."

He blinked, caught off guard. "What are you talking about?"

"Please," Nesta scoffed. "You think I don't know about your little pick-me-ups before gigs? You're such a hypocrite."

Azriel's jaw tightened, his voice low. "That's... that's different. I'm not spiraling like you are."

Nesta leaned forward, her eyes blazing. "Different how? Because you're a 'tortured artist'? Give me a break." She made air quotes, her movements sharp and exaggerated.

He stood abruptly, pacing a few steps before whirling back to face her. "I'm not the one making a walk of shame to work every other day, or calling my estranged sister from borrowed phones."

Nesta shot to her feet, matching his stance. "No, you're just wasting your life playing dive bars. At least I have a real job." Her fingers drummed rapidly against her thigh.

"At least I'm not throwing away a law career I worked so hard for," he retorted, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

Nesta's laugh was brittle as she threw herself back onto the couch. "You don't know anything about my work."

Azriel leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "I know you've been calling in sick more often. You told me yourself last week."

"So what? Everyone needs a mental health day now and then."

He remained against the wall for a moment, studying her with concern and frustration. Then, slowly, he pushed off and took a few steps toward her, closing some distance between them. His voice was low but firm as he continued. "A day, sure. But you're—"

"I'm what, Az?" Nesta interrupted, her voice rising as she crossed her arms tightly across her chest. "Enlighten me."

Azriel's eyes darkened, his voice steady but laced with frustration. "You're running from your problems. You're burying yourself in your work instead of actually facing them."

Nesta's jaw clenched. "You think I don't know that? At least I'm trying to keep it together. Unlike you, hiding behind your music and your so-called 'artistic struggles.'"

Azriel's hands clenched into fists at his sides. "Don't turn this around on me. Yeah, I’ve got shit going on, but I’m not self-destructing. I’m not jeopardizing my career and my relationships."

Nesta scoffed, her eyes flashing with defiance. "You’re one to talk about relationships. When was the last time you let anyone in? You’re just as closed off as I am."

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "This isn’t about me. It’s about you needing help. Real help. You can’t keep running, Nes."

Her expression crumbled for a split second before she masked it with anger. "And what do you suggest I do, huh? Therapy? Rehab? You think I haven’t considered those? It’s not that simple."

His voice softened slightly. "I know it’s not simple. But I care about you, and it hurts to see you like this. You don’t have to keep punishing yourself like this.”

Tears welled up in Nesta’s eyes, but she quickly blinked them away. "I don’t need your pity."

"It’s not pity," he said, his tone earnest. "It’s concern. It's love, Nesta. You’re family, and I can’t just stand by and watch you destroy yourself."

She turned away, hugging herself tightly. The silence stretched between them, tense and heavy. Finally, in a voice barely above a whisper, she said, "I called Feyre today..."

Az's expression hardened, a mix of concern and disappointment crossing his features. He didn't need to ask how she’d done it; he knew her pattern all too well. "Nesta," he said, his voice low and controlled, "you can't keep doing this. They clearly want space." Nesta's head snapped towards him, her eyes blazing.

"You don't know what they want! None of us do!" Her voice cracked with emotion.

Azriel's jaw clenched. "Maybe not, but I know they left for a reason. Have you considered that your constant attempts to reach her might be pushing her further away?"

Nesta's eyes flashed dangerously. "Don't you dare put this on me. You're just as lost without them as I am."

"At least I'm respecting their decision," Azriel countered, his voice low but intense. "Unlike you, I'm not harassing my coworkers for their phones or showing up to work high."

"Oh, please," Nesta scoffed. "You're not some paragon of virtue, Azriel. You're just better at hiding your mess."

Azriel took a step closer, his patience wearing thin. "My 'mess' isn't a nightly habit that’s consuming my life. Wake up, Nesta.”

Nesta's face contorted with rage and pain as she shot up off the couch and turned on him. "You think I don't realize that? You think I want to be like this?" Her voice rose to a near-shout. She paced like a caged animal, her fingers raking through her hair as she glared at Azriel. "I'm doing the best I can!"

His eyes flashed with frustration. "You want to know what I think? I think Elain was right."

Nesta met his gaze, her words low and tense. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I spoke to her last week," Azriel shot back, his voice hard. "She thinks you're the reason Feyre left. And you know what? I'm starting to agree with her."

"You don't know anything," Nesta snarled, her body coiled with tension.

Azriel stepped closer, his voice rising. "I know she was always cleaning up your messes. Always worrying about you. Elain thinks she finally got sick of it, and I can't blame her." His jaw clenched, hands curling into fists at his sides as he towered over her.

"Shut up," Nesta hissed, her hands clenching into fists. Though she had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze, the fury blazing in her eyes was no less intimidating. 

"Face it, Nesta. Your sister couldn't take it anymore.” His volume rose, each word more forceful than the last. “Your emotional walls, your recklessness, your unwillingness to change—it drove her away! And now you're doing the same thing to Elain!"

Nesta's face contorted with rage. "I said shut up!"

"Why? Because you can't handle the truth?" Azriel's words were cutting. "She told me she wishes you’d left instead; that we’d all be better off if—"

With a wordless cry of fury, Nesta lunged at him, her hands clawing towards his face.

Azriel's eyes widened in shock as he instinctively raised his arms to block her attack.

"Nesta, stop!" Azriel growled, catching her wrists. She twisted violently in his grip, her teeth bared in a snarl.

"Let go of me!" Nesta spat, trying to wrench free. Her eyes were wild, pupils still dilated from the cocaine. She kicked out, aiming for his shins.

Azriel grunted as her foot connected, but he held firm. "I'm not fighting you," he said, his voice strained but controlled. "You need to calm down."

"Calm down?" she shouted hysterically. "After the shit you just said? Fuck you!"

She threw her weight forward, attempting to headbutt him. Azriel barely dodged, releasing one of her wrists to push her back. She immediately swung at him with her free hand. "You piece of shit!" Nesta screamed, lashing out again. Azriel deflected another blow as she continued, "You don't know anything about me!"

Her attacks came in bursts, punctuated by her rage-filled words. "Fucking lowlife!" she spat, narrowly missing his jaw with a wild swing, her nails grazing his cheek.

"Damn it, Nesta!" Azriel hissed, feeling the sting. He used his greater strength to push her back against the wall, pinning her arms. "Is this what you want? To hurt me? To hurt yourself?"

Nesta writhed against his hold, her chest heaving. "You don't understand anything!" she shouted, her voice raw with emotion. "You think you're so much better than me, but you're just as fucked up!"

Azriel leaned in, his face inches from hers. His voice was low, intense. "I never said I wasn't. I’m not your enemy here, Nesta, I’m just trying to stop you from being your own.”

For a moment, they stood there, both breathing hard. Nesta's eyes darted around, like a cornered animal looking for escape. Then, abruptly, she went limp in his grasp.

"Let go," she said, her voice suddenly quiet and dull. "Just... let me go, Azriel."

Azriel hesitated, studying her face. Slowly, cautiously, he released her arms and took a step back.

"I'm leaving," she muttered, pushing past him towards the door.

"Your keys," he said firmly, extending his hand towards her. "Give them to me. You're not driving like this. Get a Lyft or something."

“What are you, my keeper?” Nesta scoffed. “Drove myself here, didn’t I…” she muttered under her breath. Her hand went to her pocket, then paused. For a second, Azriel thought she might make a run for it or lunge at him again. But then her shoulders slumped, and she pulled out her keyring, took her apartment key, turned towards him and dropped them into his palm without meeting his eyes.

She made for the door again. Azriel didn't try to stop her, but his voice followed her. "This isn't over, Nes. We need to talk about this when you're sober."

Nesta paused at the door, her hand on the knob. Without turning back, she said, "Don't count on it," and slammed the door behind her.

Azriel stood in the sudden silence of his apartment, the echo of the slamming door fading away. He ran a hand over his face, wincing as he touched the scratch on his cheek. Nesta’s keys felt heavy in his hand.

[cargopantsman]

Tell the angle grinder story!

took me a second to remember this post

i guess content warning BDSM stuff ahead

...

so back in the day my ex-wife and I were at a dungeon party and part of what made this one our favorite was because it was a dingy, industrial space. especially downstairs which was all concrete and steel beams.

and on this particular night a friend of ours was doing what I guess you could call spark-play. and my ex was a metal fabricator at the time (i guess still is, you don't really lose skills, just need to revisit them) so her day-to-day involved a lot of sparks, grinding, forming, the whole lot.

but now this was different, this was play. this was a guy with an angle-grider and a steel bar intentionally flinging sparks at people and she was so down for this.

and it's still one of the sexiest memories I have of our time together because she had to be completely naked for fire safety and all that and hair was quickly tossed up in a messy bun. i was spotter, making sure her hair didn't catch and to signal to the grinder how she was doing.

and it was a mesmerizing experience as an observer and she absolutely loved it.

there was this superfluous wall of chain link hung against the concrete wall that she gripped onto and he started to run the steel on the grinder and just spurt out a small shower of hot sparks along her back which immediately made her arch and moan. i could tell her eyes were already rolling behind closed lids.

and he did a great job of reading body language and increasing duration as more and more and more sparks arced along her back. and her back bent backwards in this divine ecstasy, pushing her ass out and her breasts up, mouth agape in the over whelming sensation.

just seeing her in such a form, as the "pain" rained down on her and seeing her revel in the microflames of burning steel, being so in her element both masochistic and professional was both awe inspiring and arousing.

so... yeah, grinder sparks, used responsibly, are pretty hot both literally and figuratively.

[friend-crow]

I saw a really good show by one of my favorite installation artists while I was in New York, and it made me want to get back into sculpture.

First project is actually getting around to making that shrine to my local crossroads spirit... I need to pick up wood cutting and sanding discs for my angle grinder, now that I finally got a new pin wrench for it. Also need a powerful magnet. Spirits love magnets.

[blu-lewd]

i want you to absolutely brutalize me. i want you to hit me as hard as you can and slash me with all your favorite knives and jam your fingers in the wounds and rip at them and laugh when i scream and tell me im less than nothing, just a slab of meat that you abuse to vent your anger, and then i want you to tell me i deserve it.

🍻

Hilarious you mention this, I just finished watching Wolf Creek 2 for the umpteenth time.

Whaddyer say to you, me, and an angle grinder over some hard rotgut whisky and a game of twenty questions?

[mantradown]

Silicosis is caused by breathing in crystalline silica dust, and millions of people around the world are at risk of developing it as a result of their jobs in mining, quarrying, stone-cutting and construction, they note.

Made from crushed rocks bound together with resins and pigments, artificial stone, also known as engineered or reconstituted stone, or quartz, has surged in popularity over the past 20 years, particularly for use in kitchen worktops, they explain.

It has aesthetic appeal. It's easier to work with due to the absence of natural imperfections, and it's more resistant to damage than natural stone, they add.

But its increasing popularity has been accompanied by the emergence of a severe and rapidly progressive form of silicosis (artificial stone silicosis), largely driven by its high (more than 90%) silica content compared with marble (3%) and granite (30%), and the fine dust it generates when cut.

When worktops are prepared for installation, they are also often dry-cut and polished with an angle grinder or other hand tools without the use of water to suppress dust generation, further boosting the volume of fine dust, explain the authors.

Cases of artificial stone silicosis have been reported from Israel, Spain, Italy, the U.S., China, Australia and Belgium since 2010. But while artificial stone has been used in the UK for a similar period, no cases had been reported until mid-2023, when 8 men were referred to a specialist occupational lung disease clinic.

[worldwidevoltage]

Get the Job Done: Unleash the Power of 220-Volt Power Tools

In the realm of DIY projects, construction endeavors, and professional trades, having the right tools can make all the difference. From mundane household repairs to large-scale industrial tasks, the efficiency and effectiveness of your tools can significantly impact the outcome of your project. Enter 220-volt power tools—the powerhouse solution for tackling a wide array of jobs with ease and precision. In this blog, we'll explore the versatility and benefits of 220-volt power tools offered by WorldWide Voltage, your go-to destination for high-quality tools at unbeatable prices.

WorldWide Voltage prides itself on providing an extensive selection of 220-volt power tools that cater to various needs and preferences. With options ranging from corded to cordless and backed by international brands, they ensure both quality and performance. Let's dive into the world of 220-volt power tools and discover how they can revolutionize your workmanship.

Versatility and Efficiency:

One of the key advantages of 220-volt power tools is their versatility. From sanders to saws, drills to grinders, and everything in between, these tools offer a comprehensive solution for virtually any task at hand. Whether you're a seasoned professional or a DIY enthusiast, having access to a diverse range of power tools allows you to tackle projects with confidence and efficiency.

Take, for example, the 220-volt angle grinders. With their robust design and powerful motor, these tools excel at cutting, grinding, and polishing various materials, from metal to concrete. Whether you're shaping metalwork or smoothing out rough surfaces, an angle grinder is an indispensable tool in any workshop or construction site.

Precision and Performance:

In addition to versatility, 220-volt power tools are renowned for their precision and performance. Whether you're making intricate cuts with a scroll saw or drilling holes with an impact drill, these tools offer unparalleled accuracy and control. This precision is essential, especially in professions where the slightest error can lead to costly mistakes.

Consider the 220-volt circular saws. Equipped with sharp blades and adjustable settings, these saws deliver clean, straight cuts with minimal effort. Whether you're cutting lumber for a DIY project or framing walls on a construction site, a reliable circular saw is a must-have tool for any tradesperson or hobbyist.

Durability and reliability:

When investing in power tools, durability and reliability are paramount. Fortunately, 220-volt power tools are built to withstand the rigors of heavy-duty use, ensuring longevity and consistent performance. Whether you're working in challenging environments or tackling demanding projects, these tools are up to the task.

Take, for instance, the 220-volt impact wrenches. Designed for loosening stubborn nuts and bolts, these wrenches deliver high torque output without compromising on durability. With their robust construction and ergonomic design, they can withstand prolonged use in industrial settings, making them a favorite among mechanics and construction professionals alike.

Ease of Use and Convenience:

Another notable advantage of 220-volt power tools is their ease of use and convenience. With features like cordless operation and ergonomic grips, these tools are designed to enhance user comfort and productivity. Whether you're working in tight spaces or on elevated surfaces, these tools make the job easier and more enjoyable.

Consider the 220-volt cordless drills. With their lithium-ion batteries and compact design, these drills offer unparalleled freedom of movement without sacrificing power or performance. Whether you're assembling furniture or installing fixtures, a cordless drill provides the flexibility and convenience you need to get the job done quickly and efficiently.

Conclusion: 220-volt power tools are indispensable assets for anyone involved in DIY projects, construction endeavors, or professional trades. With their versatility, precision, durability, and convenience, these tools empower users to tackle a wide range of tasks with confidence and efficiency. And when it comes to sourcing high-quality 220-volt power tools, WorldWide Voltage stands out as a reliable destination. With their extensive selection, unbeatable prices, and commitment to customer satisfaction, they ensure that you have access to the tools you need to get the job done right. So why wait? Visit WorldWide Voltage today and unleash the power of 220-volt power tools in your workshop or job site.

[skullokz8]

What Can I Run On a 4000 Watt Generator [Easy Guide]

As a generator advisor, I'm used to customers asking questions about their generators. But there's one question that comes up time and time again: "What can I run on a 4000 watt generator?" It's a great question and one that's worth exploring in a little more detail.  The answer depends on a few factors, like the specific make and model of your generator and the power requirements of the appliances or tools you're looking to run.  In this article, we'll look at what you can expect from a 4000 watt generator and some tips for making the most of your investment.  4000Watt Generators do not have 4000W power output. This is just Surge Watt (starting wattage for a few seconds); they are most likely a 3200-3500 watt generator.  They produce 33.3 amps on 120 Volts for surge, not for rating; for rated power, they only produce 29 amps or less, and 16.6 amps on 240 Volts is for starting, not running.

The Essential Conclusion

Rest easy; the 4000-watt generator can run all your essential home appliances. From lights to television, refrigerator to coffee makers, this mighty machine can keep them all up and running. So go ahead and enjoy a well-lit home, your favorite TV shows, fresh groceries, and a comforting cup of coffee, all made possible by the reliable power of the 4000-watt generator. But that's not all!  Keep reading this article for a more detailed list of appliances that a 4000-watt generator can handle. Discover the versatile capabilities of this generator and unlock the possibilities it brings to your daily life.

List of Household Appliances that a 4000 watt Generator can run

A 4000-watt generator is popular for homeowners looking for a reliable backup power source during outages or emergencies. With a 4000-watt generator, you can power several household appliances simultaneously, depending on their power requirements. It's essential to note that the wattage of an appliance determines how much power it requires to operate. Here's a breakdown of the power requirements for some common household appliances: - Refrigerator (600-800 watts) - Freezer (500-800 watts) - Window air conditioner (10,000 BTU) (1000 watts) - Portable space heater (1500 watt) (1500 watts) - Electric stove (one burner) (1500 watts) - Microwave (1000-1500 watts) - Electric water heater (4000-5500 watts) - Washing machine (500-1000 watts) - Clothes dryer (1800-5000 watts) - Dishwasher (1200-2400 watts) - TV (100-400 watts) - Desktop computer (200-500 watts) - Router/modem (10-50 watts) - Lights (average home) (400-800 watts) - Toaster oven (1200-1800 watts) - Blender (300-1000 watts) - Coffee maker (600-1200 watts) - Electric kettle (1200-1500 watts) - Iron (1000-1800 watts) - Hair dryer (800-1800 watts) - Curling iron (40-80 watts) - Vacuum cleaner (500-1500 watts) - Ceiling fan (10-90 watts) - Water pump (well pump) (750-1500 watts) - Sump pump (800-1300 watts) - Garage door opener (500-800 watts) - Power tools (drills, saws, etc.) (500-1500 watts) - Air compressor (1000-2000 watts) - Welder (smaller models) (1000-2500 watts) - Fish tank equipment (50-100 watts)

List of Power Tools that a 4000 watt Generator can run

A 4000-watt generator is capable of powering various household appliances and power tools. Power tools are essential for construction, woodworking, and DIY projects. They require a steady flow of electricity to run efficiently and safely.  Choosing the right type of power tool for a project can make all the difference in its outcome. With a 4000-watt generator, you can power many different tools simultaneously, depending on their power requirements. - Circular saw (1200-2200 watts) - Table saw (1800-3000 watts) - Miter saw (800-1200 watts) - Reciprocating saw (800-1200 watts) - Jigsaw (500-800 watts) - Angle grinder (1000-1500 watts) - Belt sander (800-1000 watts) - Orbital sander (500-800 watts) - Power drill (500-800 watts) - Impact driver (500-800 watts) - Router (1000-2000 watts) - Planer (1000-1800 watts) - Jointer (1000-1500 watts) - Air compressor (1000-2000 watts) - Welder (1000-2500 watts) - Heat gun (1000-1500 watts) - Electric paint sprayer (600-1000 watts) - Leaf blower (500-1000 watts) - Hedge trimmer (500-1000 watts) - Chainsaw (1000-2200 watts) - Pole saw (600-1000 watts) - Pressure washer (1200-2500 watts) - Tiller (1000-1500 watts) - Lawnmower (1200-1800 watts) - Edger (500-800 watts) - Snow blower (1200-2500 watts) - Generator (3000-4000 watts) - Demolition hammer (1200-2000 watts) - Concrete saw (1500-2500 watts) - Tile saw (800-1200 watts)

List of Outdoor and Camping Equipment that a 4000 watt generator can run

If you plan a camping trip or spend time outdoors, having the right equipment can make all the difference. From grilling your favorite meals to keeping your drinks cool and charging your devices, outdoor and camping equipment adds convenience and comfort to your outdoor experience.  However, many of these items require electricity to run, which can be a challenge when you're away from home. Fortunately, with a 4000-watt generator, you can power various outdoor and camping equipment, making it easier to enjoy your time in nature. - Electric grill (1200-1800 watts) - Portable stove (1500-1800 watts) - Electric cooker (50-100 watts) - Electric lantern (25-100 watts) - Portable air conditioner (800-1400 watts) - Electric heater (1000-1500 watts) - Electric water pump (500-1000 watts) - Portable speaker (10-50 watts) - Electric chainsaw (1000-2200 watts) - Electric pressure washer (1200-2000 watts) - Battery charger (50-500 watts) - Portable fridge/freezer (50-100 watts) - Electric fan (50-150 watts) - Portable power station (500-1000 watts) - Electric bug zapper (10-30 watts) - Deep fryer (1500-2000 watts) - Electric griddle (1500-1800 watts) - Rice cooker (500-1000 watts) - Toaster (800-1500 watts) - Blender (300-1000 watts)

List of Office Equipment that a 4000 watt generator can run

Technology is essential in maintaining productivity and efficiency in today's modern workplace. From computers to printers, scanners, and other office equipment, businesses rely heavily on electricity to power their day-to-day operations.  However, power outages can happen unexpectedly, bringing business activities to a grinding halt. That's where a 4000-watt generator can come in handy, providing backup power to keep your critical office equipment up and running during an outage.  We'll discuss 20 pieces of office equipment that can be powered by a 4000-watt generator, along with their estimated wattage requirements. - Desktop computer (200-500 watts) - Laptop computer (50-100 watts) - Printer (100-300 watts) - Scanner (50-100 watts) - Fax machine (50-150 watts) - Shredder (50-100 watts) - Copier (500-1000 watts) - Projector (200-400 watts) - Sound system (100-500 watts) - Monitor (50-250 watts) - Router/modem (10-50 watts) - Phone system (100-500 watts) - Cash register (50-150 watts) - Credit card machine (20-50 watts) - Time clock (5-10 watts) - Electric pencil sharpener (20-50 watts) - Calculator (5-10 watts) - Desk lamp (10-50 watts) - Air purifier (50-100 watts) - Water dispenser (50-100 watts)

List of Healthcare and Medical Equipment that a 4000 watt generator can run

Access to reliable and uninterrupted power is critical for patient care and safety in the healthcare industry. Many medical devices and equipment require electricity to function properly, making backup power necessary in case of a power outage.  A 4000-watt generator can provide backup power to keep essential healthcare and medical equipment running during an outage.  In this section, we will discuss 20 pieces of healthcare and medical equipment that can be powered by a 4000-watt generator, along with their estimated wattage requirements.  - Oxygen concentrator (400-700 watts) - Electric hospital bed (200-500 watts) - Electric wheelchair (150-500 watts) - CPAP machine (50-250 watts) - BiPAP machine (100-350 watts) - Nebulizer (50-250 watts) - Blood pressure monitor (10-50 watts) - Electric lift chair (100-250 watts) - Electric heating pad (50-100 watts) - TENS unit (20-50 watts) - Electric massage chair (100-300 watts) - Ultrasound machine (200-500 watts) - EKG machine (200-500 watts) - Electric dental drill (200-500 watts) - Autoclave (2000-3000 watts) - X-ray machine (1000-3000 watts) - Electric surgical saw (500-1000 watts) - Defibrillator (400-700 watts) - Electric cautery (100-300 watts) - Electric bone stimulator (50-100 watts) Before plugging in any appliance or tool to a generator, it's crucial to understand the difference between 120V and 240V outlets and their corresponding power requirements. The distinction lies in the voltage and wattage capacity they can handle. A 120V outlet, similar to standard household outlets, provides a voltage of 120 volts. It is suitable for smaller appliances and tools with lower power needs, typically ranging from 50 to 1500 watts. Devices like refrigerators, microwaves, and smaller power tools often fall within this range. It's important to note that using a 120V outlet for high-power appliances or tools that require 240V may result in equipment damage or ineffective operation. On the other hand, a 240V outlet, often a twist-lock configuration, delivers a higher voltage of 240 volts. This type of outlet is designed to handle larger appliances and power-hungry tools requiring more wattage, usually ranging from 1500 to 5000 watts.  Examples include electric stoves, air conditioners, and clothes dryers. It's crucial to ensure that the appliance or tool you wish to connect is compatible with a 240V outlet and falls within the specified wattage range. When connecting appliances or tools to a generator, always check the outlet type and verify the voltage and wattage requirements of the device. Doing so can ensure a proper match and prevent any potential damage to your generator or connected equipment, promoting safe and efficient operation.

Understanding Required Wattage and Generator Capacity 

Wattage and generator capacity are two important factors to consider when it comes to power generation. Wattage is the amount of power that an electronic device or appliance requires to operate, usually measured in watts. On the other hand, generator capacity refers to the maximum amount of power that a generator can produce at any given time, typically measured in kilowatts (kW). It is important to understand the wattage requirements of your appliances and devices to choose a generator with the appropriate capacity. Overloading a generator by running too many devices or appliances that require more power than the generator can supply can damage the generator and even cause a fire. To calculate the generator capacity required for your needs, add the total wattage of all the devices and appliances you plan to run simultaneously. It's also important to consider the starting wattage of certain devices, as some appliances like refrigerators and air conditioners require extra power to start up. In general, choosing a generator with a capacity that exceeds your calculated wattage requirement by 20% is recommended to ensure safe and reliable operation. By understanding wattage and generator capacity, you can make informed decisions when selecting the right generator for your needs. You can use the following wattage Calculators to determine your required generator. Cummins Generator Size Calculator:  Generac Generator's Size Calculator:

Difference between Surge and Rated Watts

Understanding the difference between surge and rated watts is essential to properly size and select a generator that can handle both the initial startup requirements and the continuous power demands of the appliances and tools you intend to connect. Surge Watts: Power for Starting Up Surge watts, also known as starting watts or peak watts, refer to the additional power capacity that a generator can provide for a short duration to handle the initial surge in power required when starting certain appliances or tools. Certain devices with motors or compressors startup require a momentary burst of extra power to overcome the initial resistance and get running. Surge watts provide this extra power to facilitate a smooth and successful startup. For example, refrigerators, air conditioners, and power tools often require a higher surge of electricity when they start operating. A generator with an adequate surge wattage rating can handle these temporary spikes in power demand, ensuring the devices start smoothly and operate optimally. Rated Watts: Continuous Power Output Rated watts, or running watts, represent the amount of power a generator can continuously produce over an extended period. The generator can provide sustained power output to keep appliances and tools running without any interruptions or issues. Rated watts are important to consider when calculating the total power requirements of the devices you plan to connect to the generator. By ensuring that the generator's rated wattage is equal to or higher than the combined wattage of the connected devices, you can ensure that the generator can consistently supply the necessary power to keep them running.

Setting up and Operating your 4000 watt Generator

- Check the oil level: Before starting the generator, check the oil level to ensure that it is at the proper level. If the oil level is low, add the recommended amount of oil. - Add fuel: Fill the fuel tank with gasoline. Be sure to use the recommended type of gasoline as specified in the owner's manual. - Please turn on the fuel valve: Locate it and turn it on. - Turn on the choke: Move the choke lever to the "closed" or "on" position. - Pull the starter cord: Grasp the starter cord and pull it firmly until the engine starts. It may take several pulls to start the engine. - Let the engine warm-up: Once the engine has started, let it warm up for a few minutes before connecting any devices. - Connect devices: After the engine has warmed up, connect the devices you want to power to the generator using the appropriate outlets. - Monitor the generator: While running, monitor it for any signs of issues, such as low oil pressure or overheating. - Turn off the generator: When you are finished using the generator, turn off any connected devices first, then turn off the generator by following the instructions in the owner's manual.

Tips for maximizing efficiency and prolonging the lifespan of your generator

To maximize efficiency and prolong the lifespan of your 4000 watt generator, follow these tips: - Optimize power usage: Turn off or unplug any unnecessary appliances or devices to reduce the load on your generator. Use power strips to easily switch off multiple devices when they're not in use. - Prioritize energy-efficient appliances: Invest in energy-efficient appliances and electronics to reduce overall power consumption. Look for appliances with the ENERGY STAR label for maximum efficiency. - Practice load management: Spread out the usage of high-wattage appliances throughout the day to prevent overloading your generator. For example, avoid running the dishwasher, washing machine, and air conditioning unit simultaneously. - Regular maintenance: Follow the manufacturer's recommended maintenance schedule to keep your generator in optimal condition. This includes oil changes, filter replacements, and spark plug inspections. - Store fuel properly: If you're using a gasoline generator, store fuel in an appropriate container in a cool, well-ventilated area away from any ignition sources. Remember, regular maintenance and responsible usage are key to maximizing efficiency and ensuring the longevity of your generator.

Safety precautions when using a 4000 watt Generator

While generators provide a reliable power source during outages, it's important to prioritize safety when using a 4000 watt generator. Here are some essential safety precautions to follow: - Carbon monoxide prevention: Never operate a generator indoors or in an enclosed space. Carbon monoxide is a silent killer and can quickly build up, leading to serious health risks or even death. Keep your generator outdoors and away from windows, doors, and vents. - Proper grounding: Ensure your generator is properly grounded to prevent electrical shocks or hazards. Follow the manufacturer's instructions for grounding procedures. - Extension cord safety: Use appropriate extension cords rated for the wattage of your appliances. Avoid using damaged or frayed cords; don't overload the generator by exceeding capacity. - Fire prevention: Keep flammable materials away from your generator and avoid refueling while the generator is running or hot. Store fuel in a safe location away from any ignition sources. Read the full article

[waffle-bubbles]

This is a pick mattock. It’s not a pick axe. The head is able to come off, which is why you never swing it over your head. It’s used for loosening or digging soil. I use the pick side to get rocks out since it can handle harder objects with less tear. The mattocks part can cut roots, but that’s not their main use and shouldn’t be used that way (especially for thicker roots; then use a Pulaski, which has a different way of being handled). They’re my personal favorite trail tool.

To use it, keep your feet square with your shoulders, knees slightly bent. Hold the tool by keeping one had at the base of the head and one hand at the end of the handle. When raising the tool, keep it below you shoulders, let your knees fall slightly with the tool, and let your hand slide down to your other hand as the tool meets the ground.

To maintain it, use steel wool to get rid of rust and dirt. Sharpen the underside of the mattock side with a bastard file (bottom up) or a metal grinder (keeping with the angle). Cover in WD-40. If handle is made of wood, sand occasionally and cover in linseed oil. Please take care of your tools. They last for a very long time. I’ve used over 100 year old saws, and they are much better than the new ones. (I mean saws aren’t the same; older saws were made to last and pick mattocks are made to be worn.) I’ve used very poorly maintained tools, and it’s sad and frustrating to use.

[bladepoint-eu]

My least favorite part of knifemaking, roughing out blanks. Having the metal bandsaw out of order sucks. Badly. Much less control with the angle grinder. Heat burns the drawing and melts the glue holding it to the steel. Ugh. However, the show must go on. Been working on a good few new designs that need to be made. Among others, this heavyweight EDC right here. Working name: Scarab. . . . #bladepoint #customknives #knifemakingsupplies #edc #scandigrind #edcknives #knifemakingcommunity #messermacher #knivmakare #couteauartisanal #bushcraftknife #huntingknife #knife #knifemaking #knifelife #customknife (på/i Finland) https://www.instagram.com/p/CnUGPqnsxND/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[pankowperfection]

Cloud 9 (JJ Maybank x reader)

Summary: A bad day at work leads to fluffy smut with JJ

Warnings: drug use, sex while high

JJ could typically be found with a joint in his pocket or between his ringed fingers. Something about the way he looked while concentrating on rolling up the paper, muscles in his arms flexing, sealing it shut with a lick was so sexy. It was amazing how something so mundane could be so attractive. His baby blues somehow looked even more enticing when his eyes were red and glassy. He had always wanted to fuck you while you both were high, hearing before how it made everything more intense and wanting to test it out.

After a particularly rough day at your job, you stomped your way into the Chateau, door slamming behind you. Everyone was out at the beach other than JJ, who you had texted on your way home. He was waiting for you on the couch: grinder, rolling paper, and fresh flower laid out. He knew you would want to enjoy the show, watching his fingers flex as he got the joint ready for you, rings catching the last few rays of sunshine. "Here sweetheart, first hit is all yours," he passed you the joint with a smile, hand sliding onto your thigh as you sat beside him. "Thanks J, I needed this after today," you said with a sigh, cloud of smoke rolling out of your mouth. "You want to talk about it?" his fingers traced patterns on your thigh, slowly stroking up and down. "I'd rather you make me forget." Your gaze met his, eyes already hazy as your stress began to melt away. You took another drag, turning to kiss JJ and letting the smoke spill into his mouth. He let out a groan before kissing you harder, hands tangling into your hair, angling your head for better access for his tongue. You made out for a few minutes, tongues slowly winding together as you both let out little sounds of pleasure. He pulled back first, silently asking for the joint with a nod of his head towards your hand. You brought it up to his mouth, placing it between his waiting lips before tucking your head onto his shoulder. As he took a hit you started kissing his neck, stopping to suck on his favorite spot causing him to let out a low moan.

He put out the joint in the ashtray, picking you up with his hands under your ass, carrying you into the bedroom. The marijuana was taking its effect, causing each sensation to feel different. JJ softly set you down onto the bed, crawling up to hover over top of you. "Fuck me J, please," you pleaded, needing another form of high to improve your mood. He pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere behind him. You admired his tanned skin, ab muscles tensing, v lines drawing your eyes to the tent in his shorts. He helped you sit up then pulled off your shirt, bra following shortly after, adding to the pile of clothing on the floor. He stopped to stare down at you, wondering how he had gotten so lucky. "You're so beautiful y/n, can't believe you're all mine." His praise made you even wetter, body feeling warm and almost weightless from your high. You reached for his hand, sliding it down into your shorts and under your panties, wanting him to feel how much you needed him. "You're soaking baby, is it all for me?" "Yes J, all yours. Fuck, babe please do something." He smirked down at you before pulling the rest of your clothes down your legs. You reached down to free him from his shorts, giving him a few slow pumps, enjoying the weight of his cock in your hand. JJ had his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, loving the feeling of his cock sliding through your wet folds. You lined him up with your entrance, thrusting your hips upwards to try to get him to slide in. "My needy girl, don't worry I've got you."

He slowly pushed into you, your warm walls welcoming him. You moaned out his name, happy to finally be getting what you wanted. He set a slow, lazy pace. Pulling all the way out before slowly sliding back in. Leaning down to kiss you again, you wrapped your legs around his waist, using his body to help you meet this thrusts. "I love you y/n," he whispered out, gazing down into your eyes. "I love you too J, so much." You could feel the coil inside you building, every thrust bringing you closer to that euphoric feeling. You dug your nails into his back, leaving red marks as you dragged them down. He softly brushed the hair out of your face before reaching down with one hand to rub circles over your clit. "I'm gonna cum," you warned him, back arching off the bed as you clenched around him. He fucked you through it, letting out more praises before filling you up. He rolled you onto your sides, bodies still connected together. "How we feeling now sweetheart?" "Much better, thank you J." 'Always here to take care of you baby girl, always," he said before kissing your forehead. You drifted off to sleep wrapped in his arms while he lightly scratched your back, bad day long forgotten.

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@adventuresinobx @starkeyobx @hoebx

[scertifiedsavanaclawstan]

Chance Encounter

Eyyo finally finished this drabble about @jackplushie‘s automation au! Its scavenger yuu/reader meeting Grim. Hope yall enjoy it!

WC: 1060

Warnings: None

Your sack hung heavily over your shoulder. Not heavy with scrap unfortunately. Just disappointment. You had found barely anything of value all day. A few good circuit boards but not much else. You were lucky you still had some credits saved up… today's haul wasn't going to get you much.

A bell chimed as you swung upon the door of your buyer's shop.

A man in a pointed mechanical mask outfitted with luminous yellow goggles turned to great you from the workbench he had been standing over.

"Ahah! If it isn't my favorite scavenger, just in time! I was wondering if I was going to have to close up shop without your daily visit!" Crowley loudly declared as he walked over to the counter where you placed the sack.

"Crowley, I'm your only scavenger." You sighed. He did this every time. But so did you.

"And I have no least favorites!" He said before diving headfirst into the sack. Honestly your mentor was birdlike in more ways than just the mask… although his top hat usually alleviated that… probably in the wash going by how much grease he was sporting. He usually looked like he had stepped out a steampunk novel… a good one, but still.

"Hmm I can see why you were taking a while. Not much luck today." He came out holding a few of the circuits. 

"Just a bad day." You sighed in response.

"For the both of us I'm afraid…" He said as he turned one of the pieces around in his hands. "I just found a mostly intact pet android but I'm having no luck in fixing it up I'm afraid."

… He really had a weird definition of bad luck on his end.

"Oh!" He suddenly clapped his hands together, "Maybe you'd have a better time with it though! We could do a trade!"

"A trade…"

"Yes! I'll take these doodads and you can have the droid!"

"...You don't have any cash do you?" You responded.

"Nonsense!" He said far too quickly, "Besides, it's in your favor, these circuits are… not particularly valuable as is…"

You kinda wish he wasn't right about that… plus you really didn't have any projects…

"Fineee."

"Wonderful! See, aren't I so generous?" Crowley remarked as he walked back to his workbench, picking up whatever was resting there before coming back.

He laid a small cat styled android on the table. It was… cute, in that chunky, boxy sort of way. It might've looked like it was sleeping if it weren't for the open panel and pile of exposed wires.

"I've checked everything, and none of his parts are broken…" Crowley sighed, "So I hope you'll have better luck getting him to turn on."

You nodded. Even if Crowley could be a bit of a pain, this was still an exciting find, you'd never even heard of a bot showing up in the scrap yards in such pristine condition. Crowley probably just forgot to charge the battery or something.

.

.

.

Okay maybe the problem wasn’t Crowley. You had been standing over your workbench for hours and still hadn’t gotten the damn cat to turn on.

You had charged its battery, replaced all its wires, resoldered the motherboard, and then completely replaced its cooling system just for good measure. And it still. Wouldn’t. Turn. ON!

At this point you were probably just going to have to give up. At least for today…

You look out your window to watch as a passing cloud lets the moon shine through. So it’s well past time to eat some dinner.

You look through the cupboards and you find… one can of tuna… great… maybe it'd be nice with some bread?

You set the can on the counter and begin rummaging through the fridge, finally pulling out a loaf of sliced bread and setting it on the counter right next to- nothing?

You blink, but the tuna is still gone. Like it vanished into thin air.

What did not vanish into thin air was the sudden cacophony coming from your work room. Like an angle grinder was being slapped against a cast iron fence. You walked to the door to peek inside and saw… the android, sitting on its haunches with your tuna can held in its grubby little hands and very sharp teeth.

Now that it was switched on you could see that its eyes, tail tip, and the insides of its ears were glowing bright blue.

The bot seemed to finally succeed in biting the lid off the tuna can- hey wait!

"That's mine!" You exclaimed, rushing into the room and grabbing the cat droid by the neck just before it could pour the tuna into its now yowling mouth.

"EH? Hey! Haven't you ever heard about finders keepers?" The cat asked as he flailed in your grip.

"Haven't you heard of how robots can't eat?"

"Of course I can eat! Now let me down you stupid human! That tuna is calling my name!"

"You probably don't even have a name." You sighed.

"I'll have you know I've got the best name!" The android crossed his little arms, "I'm the great and powerful master Grim! And you'd better remember it!"

You watched as Grim continued struggling in your grasp. It was interesting to see an android who had named itself… even more a cat android that was talking… or could eat. Supposedly.

"Okay you can have the tuna…" You began, causing Grim's head to snap towards you. "If you tell me how you turned on."

"Hehe heh! That's an easy one!" Grim replied smugly, "I've been on since that weirdo charged my battery! I've just been waiting for the right chance to sneak away… but that guy didn't have anything worth eating. Now gimme tuna!"

You blinked as you dropped Grim and watched him shove his face to begin devouring the tuna.

He… couldn't have been right. You'd done a bunch of work on him that he couldn't have been online for… and you verified that he was off, otherwise you wouldn't have been working on him so long… SO long…

But as you watched him yawn after finishing the tuna, you had to admit he was kind of cute. In his own way. And you were pretty lonely other than your visits to Crowley…

"Y'know Grim…" You began, "How'd you like to stay?"

[lacheri]

11:29 PM, 4/20

pairing: stoner!Eren and fem bodied reader

content: smoking/drugs, dumbification, finger fucking, penetration, porn without plot, minors DNI

summary: eren's been trying to fuck you for years now, and he's got a different angle to play at this time. all it takes are a few pretty words and free weed.

wc: 3.5k

notes: happy 4/20 lmfao i wrote this in two hours and i'm posting this unedited and half asleep

‘Rolling up, you sliding through?’

Your phone illuminated brightly against your face as you held your phone above you, your bed’s soft comforter brought up to your chin. You bit your lip, contemplating Eren’s invitation. Your eyes glanced to the clock in the corner of your phone screen, blinking a couple of times. ‘11:29 PM’ it read back.

‘Pleaaaase, 4/20 is almost over ):’ Eren had resorted to double texting, and you sighed, his battle easily won. You tried to believe it was fought hard, but you knew perfectly well that you were wrapped around Eren’s pretty little finger. He called, you answered. Simple as that.

‘I want a blunt all to myself for this Jaeger. I’m literally in bed right now’ you typed back quickly, clicking the off button on the side of your device, begrudgingly throwing your blanket off your body as the heat escaped. You gazed down at your attire, sweatshirt and sleep shorts bundled up to your form, and you sighed once again. Eren was going to have to accept you like this, because there was absolutely no way in Hell that you could fathom throwing on real clothes this late at night.

‘What’re you wearing? Send pics’

‘Eren I’m LITERALLY!!! On my way to your house right now’. This boy was going to be the death of you, or at least whatever brain cells you had left.

Fuzzy pink slides adorned on your feet, hair thrown up in the messiest ‘neat’ bun you could manage, you pocketed your keys and wallet. You grabbed your bookbag in the corner of your room full of paraphernalia, knowing well by now that Eren was too lazy to buy bongs or bowls, and made your way out of your home, locking the front door on your way out. You hit the unlock button on your car, throwing the bag in the passenger seat and set out for your late night journey.

It wasn’t uncommon for your best friend to hit you up so late, in fact it was Eren’s peak hours for hanging out. He never genuinely inconvenienced you, just an annoyance because every single time you got that invite text or call, your head would have just hit the pillow beneath you, sleep on the horizon. Traffic was the best at this time too, you would reason on the way there, virtually no cars on the road, turning your usual twenty minute ride into a ten minute one.

When you rolled up Eren’s driveway, you could see the dark red lights of his bedroom through the upstairs window on the front of the house. You picked your phone out of your pocket, texting a quick ‘I’m here’. You grabbed your bag, slinging it over your shoulder and climbed out of your car. By the time you made it to his front door, Eren was swinging it open, a goofy smile on his face.

“Just us tonight?” you asked, referring to the lack of cars in the driveway as you glided through the entryway.

“Yeah, feeling greedy. We haven’t hung out just us in awhile,” Eren smirked, leaning back and letting his eyes travel down your spine as you slid by him. He reached and pulled the door closed, locking it quickly and following quickly behind you.

You spent most of your nights here, knowing the pathway to Eren’s room. You jogged up the stairs, oblivious to Eren’s eyes trained in on your bouncing ass in your loose fitted shorts. His bedroom door was wide open, and you navigated over clothes thrown haphazardly on his floor to his unmade bed. You bounced as you sat down, hitting the mattress with your full weight and unzipping your bag, picking out your favorite bowl. Eren lifted the corner of his mouth, clearly amused at how at home you had made yourself.

“Comfy?” he asked, a teasing tone to his voice as he joined you on the bed, rolling tray and jar of bud in hand.

“Mhm,” you hummed, eyeing Eren’s hands as they set quickly to work. His grinder sat on the bed behind him, and after picking out a few clusters of green from the jar, he reached behind him and popped the top off, going through the motions of getting prepped for the smoke session. “What’d you do today?”

Eren shot you a dumb founded look, “It’s 4/20, what do you think I’ve been doing all day?”

You rolled your eyes, throwing your hands up in surrender, “Just making a joke, asshole.”

He chuckled, extending his hand out so you could pass him your bowl, packing it not long after. Eren looked around his mattress for a lighter, eyebrows drawn together as he couldn’t find one. You smirked then, extending the black lighter you had packed in your bag, and Eren smiled gratefully. He flicked the lighter once it was in his possession, pointer finger resting over the choke as he placed the pipe to his lips, inhaling deeply as the fresh green turned to ash. He lifted his long finger off the choke hole, removing the pipe as he held the smoke in for a few seconds, eyes instantly glazing as he exhaled.

Eren was one of those smokers that the second he had a hit of weed, it was written all over his face that he was high, even if he wasn’t. When Eren picked up the habit in highschool, his parents knew instantly what the boy had been doing during his “study sessions” with his friends. Now that he was an adult and moved out of his childhood home, Eren was pretty free in his indulgences, no longer carrying around eye drops to try and help him appear as innocent as possible.

After his second hit, Eren passed you back your bowl and lighter, coughing lightly as he exhaled, “What about you? What’d you do today?”

“Not much, spent all day watching documentaries and smoking my vape,” you laughed lightly, positioning the pipe to your own lips.

Eren’s eyes drank in the sight of your pretty plump lips as they wrapped around the tip of the pipe, fingers copying his as you bent your finger over the choke. The lighter ignited after a single flick, warm colored flames illuminating your face. It was like Eren was watching you in slow motion, but it was always like that with you, even when he wasn’t high. He could see the fire in your eyes as they focused downwards to your actions, and Eren felt his mouth go dry. You pulled the bowl away, making eye contact with him as the smoke exited your lips, licking your face as it traveled towards the ceiling on your exhale.

The two of you made small talk as you passed the bowl back and forth, Eren making a face once the bud was dead. He packed another bowl, repeating the rotation until that one was dead. The two of you thoroughly fried, he put the pipe on his bedside table and leaned his back against the wall by his bed. You mirrored him, resting your head on his broad shoulder as the two of you enjoyed each other’s company.

“We should make edibles this weekend,” you suggested, fingers playing with the drawstring of your hoodie. “Maybe invite the group over and get zooted and play a game or something.”

“Zooted?” Eren snorted. “I haven’t heard that word in years, grandma.”

You shot Eren a glare, which he began to laugh at, “I’m hip, okay? Zooted is making a comeback.”

“Stop trying to fit in with the youth, Myrtle,” he teased, wrapping his arm around your waist to tuck you into his side. “Man, if I was only 50 years older.”

You lightly elbowed his side, “You wish you could bag 70 year old me. I’m a fucking catch.”

“I wish I could bag you period,” Eren confessed, probably for the hundredth time of you knowing him. “How come you’ve never let me take you out?”

“Because, you’d just fuck and dump me and then I wouldn’t have a plug anymore,” you pouted, purposefully snuggling in closer.

“Is that what you really think?” he asked seriously, positioning his neck to the side so he could look down at you.

You looked up, centimeters apart from his face, “That’s what you did with all the other girls.”

“But you’re my best friend,” Eren frowned, taking his hand and pushing your hair behind your ear. “I wouldn't do that to you.”

“Don’t know if I wanna’ really find that out,” you smiled sadly.

“C’mon, let me prove it to you,” Eren licked his lips. “Fuck me, right now, and I’ll take you out tomorrow.”

You felt a pulse in your pussy suddenly, gulping spit down as you broke the eye contact, “I don’t know ‘Ren. We’ve been friends since highschool, what if it makes things weird?”

“You can’t look me in the eyes right now and tell me that you’ve never thought about it, about us,” his voice was a hare above a whisper. “Because I think about it all the time. ‘Is why I hit you up all the time, I like you stupid, I always have.”

This confession was so different from all the other ones. Eren was practically begging to let him in between your legs on a weekly basis, ever since you had met him. Never once had he been this honest though, so genuine sounding about his feelings. He had a point as well, you thought about being with him all the time. You were always at his house or going out somewhere together, you spent all your free time with him, of course you would have feelings for Eren.

“If,” you started, your eyes blinking rapidly as you returned your gaze to his red ones. “I say yes, and things are weird after, we’re going to pretend like this never happened and we go back to being friends.”

“Deal.”

Eren’s lips crashed into your’s, any and all hesitation rolling off your body as you eagerly returned his kiss. His other arm circled you, bringing you in somehow even closer to him as your hands grabbed both of his cheeks, feeling the flex of his jaw as you smashed your lips together. Eren’s hand traveled under the hem of your sweatshirt to the small of your back, guiding you to sit in his lap. Legs on either side of his hips, your tongues slipped through the both of your lips, meeting in the middle.

Maybe it was the high, maybe it was Eren, but the throbbing in your cunt only expanded as Eren smoothed his hands all over the middle of your torso. They traveled up to the swell of your breasts, free from a bra, cupping both tits in his large hands. His thumbs slid and teased your nipples, hardening instantly under his touch. You arched your back, pushing your chest into his palms even more, your hips flicking as he tweaked your nipples between his fingers.

You both moaned into each other’s mouths at the roll of your hips, feeling Eren’s dick harden fast underneath your clothed center. Eren had been wearing a pair of thin grey sweatpants, leaving not much to the imagination while he was in this state. You felt his lips scrape against your bottom lip, pulling it into his mouth and sucking gently. He released it, a string of saliva linking to the two of you together.

“I’ve been imagining this for forever,” Eren’s eyes were glazed and deep red when you met his gaze. “I just never thought this would happen.”

“I’ve been wanting you too,” you admitted, your dirty little secret exposed.

He smirked at your confession, hands still toying with your breasts. Silencing you once more with his passionate kiss, he moved his hands downwards and to your back until he met the waistband of your shorts. He easily slid under the hem, gripping your ass in his palms, kneading and spreading you apart. You felt your pussy flutter, the indirect contact sending you into a deep pit of arousal, your senses heightened greatly.

It was like Eren could read your mind, and his fingers traveled to your spread cunt over his lap, running a finger over your slit over your panties. You whined, pressing your hips down to achieve a greater pressure from his hand, in turn allowing your wetness to seep through the cotton of your panties. Eren chuckled against your lips, reading your body language loud and clear. He pushed the fabric aside, allowing his knuckles to brush directly into your folds. You moaned into his mouth as he spread your arousal around your vulva. When his thumb bumped against your clit, you felt your patience snap entirely.

“‘Ren, need your fingers, now,” you panted, eyes half lidded as his kiss traveled to the underside of your jaw.

“You got it, baby girl,” he hummed into your skin. There was no resistance as he pushed his middle finger into your opening. “Fuck, you’re fucking soaked. This all for me?”

You couldn’t find your voice, nodding and whining out as he pumped his single digit into your pussy. His touch was slow, deliberate, trying to memorize every single ridge and flutter of your walls as you pulsed around him. Eren’s mouth was dry, dick hard and throbbing, completely lost in the feeling of you sucking his finger in deeper. He couldn’t comprehend the fact that his cock would be replacing his fingers soon, finally fucking you like he had imagined for years now.

His middle finger dared to pull out, and you let out a desperate whine, thinking that was his plan. You gasped in relief and pleasure as his ring finger pushed past your entrance, clenching tightly on his fingers. Eren found solace in this, perceiving your flutters as permission to go finger fuck you at an ungodly pace. He positioned his wrist as a more comfortable angle, and his fingers pumped inside of you at the speed of light.

Your eyebrows came together, mouth hanging open as you squeaked and whined, Eren’s other hand finding purchase on your jaw. He squeezed your cheeks together lightly, forcing your lips to pout as he maintained direct eye contact with you. His own lips hung open, and you could see your reflection in his blown out pupils. It only enticed you more, you looked heavenly. Eren couldn’t have worded it before himself if you had verbalized this, whole heartedly agreeing with you.

“You’re so tight,” Eren groaned out, his hand leaving your chin and slipping two fingers in between your lips. “Suck, baby.”

You did as you were told, Eren’s fingers slowing to fuck up into roughly, hitting your sweet spot over and over. Your tongue circled around his knuckles, lips vibrating on his fingers as your moans were silenced. Eren was thoroughly enjoying himself, seeing you completely under his control like this. You were putty in the palm of his hands, literally.

He slid his fingers out of your cunt so suddenly, feeling the gush of your arousal against your inner thighs as his hand left your shorts. His other hand fell out of your mouth, moving back to your jaw as you felt the wetness of your spit spread across your face. Eren brought the hand he was fucking you with to his own mouth, and you were practically drooling at the sight of him sucking your pussy juices off of his fingers.

“Delicious,” he cooed after he pulled them from his lips. “Just like I always imagined.”

You took this as your opportunity to remove some of your clothing. You tugged your hoodie over your head, tossing it on the floor. Eren followed suit, removing his own white t-shirt and reattaching his lips to yours. You tasted hints of yourself, not at all repulsed, in fact the exact opposite. You tasted sweet, tart but sweet.

You pushed yourself away from Eren, scooting off his lap in order to tear off your shorts and panties. Eren mirrored you, almost ripping his pants and boxers off as he slid them past his thighs and ankles to the floor. He remained in his seated position, eyes swirling and fingers twitching at his sides as he watched your crawl back to him. You placed a sloppy kiss to his lips before turning your body around, placing your feet on the mattress on either side of his lap. Sat in a full crouch now, you grabbed Eren’s cock, pumping him a few times with both of your hands in a screw motion. He moaned from behind you, his own hands gripping your ass cheeks to support your frame.

You guided Eren to your hovering pussy, teasing your clit, soaking him in your dripping heat. He cursed underneath you, his right hand moving to your hip as you lowered yourself on his length. Eren groaned loudly as the feelings of satisfaction and relief flowed through his body, his own heightened senses taking over. You moved to rest on your knees when you felt Eren bottom out inside of you, a string of moans and whimpers leaving your lips. You arched your back and Eren leaned back more, eyes stationed on your beautiful round ass.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he ran a hand up to the back of your head, untangling your messy bun so your hair fell free down your back. “C’mon baby, bounce on my dick.”

You lifted your hips, slamming down to his pelvis urgently. It was so overwhelming, the feeling of his cock filling you to the brim making your brain empty. Your eyes screwed shut, mouth hanging open dumbly as drool coated the swell of your lips. You bounced again, and Eren yanked your hair back as he watched your pussy stretch around him, close to snapping and drilling into you as he saw the creamy ring form around his base. You were a moaning mess, unable to think clearly as your body took over. Pushing all your weight into your knees and palms resting on Eren’s thighs, you fastened your pace, ass bouncing every time Eren’s fat tip brushed up against your cervix.

You felt the sharp sting on your cheek and heard the resounding slap of his hand on your right cheek, tears springing to your eyes, “Fuck, Eren, you feel so good.”

Taking your hips into his strong hands, Eren was finally at his brink as he thrusted hard up into. You yelped, letting yourself go limp as he slammed into your cunt at a dangerous pace. He was in full control now, fucking you into a stupor.

Your hand left it’s home of his thigh, traveling to your aching center to rub your clit. Eren’s position was perfect, rubbing the underside of his shaft against your g-spot. When you opened your eyes, you could see his toes curling, legs flexing and twitching. He wasn’t going to last long, your pussy putting him under a spell. You circled your clit with your pointer and middle fingers, throat raw from all the noises escaping you. All you felt was Eren, all you could hear was Eren, he was filling your entire being up, replacing any and all thoughts they may have lingered in your brain.

“Gonna’ cum,” you whined, fingers moving even faster.

“I’m so fucking close, fucking cum baby,” Eren growled, thrusts desperate and becoming irregular.

You stilled above him, a breathless scream heaving from your throat as you gushed around him. Your pussy clenched so tight, and Eren couldn’t hold back. Because as empty as your brain was, Eren was in the exact same state as he shot his thick load into you, filling your tight cunt up with his cum. You milked his cock, walls convulsing in your mind blowing orgasm. Black spots appeared in your vision when you realized you had forgotten to breathe, you took a deep gasp of air.

You were a panting, sweaty mess hovering over him. Eren was in awe, watching beads of his white seed leak out of your center. He’d worry about the consequences when his brain could comprehend what had just happened, but for now, the deep primal urge of filling you up was sedated. Eren didn’t think he could’ve imagined fucking you for the first time any better than this. And when you finally lifted your hips to release him, he felt a wave of sadness, your beautiful pussy no longer surrounding him.

“Did you, oh my God, Eren,” you lifted your hand in front of you, seeing the creamy white of his cum smeared on your fingers. “You came inside of me?”

“Sorry, baby,” he caught his breath as you turned your head over your shoulder to glare at him. “I’ll buy you Plan B in the morning, promise.”

“I’m on the pill, but still,” you huffed, letting the anger leave you as you realized Eren would take responsibility. “You didn’t know that.”

Eren laughed without humor, “Oh well, at least I know for next time. Now c’mere, wanna’ hold you while I roll a blunt.”

LACHERI © 2021: all writing content belongs to LACHERI. I do not allow reposts or translations. this is my only account.

[one-more-offbeat-anthem]

father’s day

for @dadstielweek day 7--father’s day! 

“Do you think Jack’s been acting odd recently?” Cas asks Dean. They really should get out of bed--they’ve been awake for at least an hour--but the blankets are warm and comfortable, sunlight filtering through the curtains and filling the room, and the house is quiet, as if waiting for the others to wake up.

“Uh, no more than usual,” Dean replies, and Cas swats him.

“I’m being serious,” Cas says. “He’s seemed secretive. Normally he talks to me about everything, and I’m worried that--”

“Cas.” Dean rolls himself over to grab his phone, and then shoves it into Cas’s face. It’s open to the calendar app page for today’s date.

And underneath the date are the words Father’s Day.

“Father’s Day?” Cas says. “I’ve never heard of it.”

“Well, Chuck certainly didn’t deserve a celebration. Maybe Jack is being secretive because of the holiday.” Dean raises an eyebrow.

“But you and Sam helped raise him too--”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, we did. But we’re not you, Cas. It’s no secret you’re his favorite, and I can’t hold that against him.” Dean leans down to kiss Cas. “I think you’re pretty great, too.”

After that, they get derailed from actually getting out of bed (although Dean is doing a pretty good job of getting Cas out of his pajamas), but then Cas hears the coffee grinder start downstairs.

“Sam,” Dean and Cas both say in unison, and Dean laughs.

“We’re finishing this later,” Dean says, “When my little brother isn’t making breakfast.” 

(Moving into a house all together seems like a great idea sometimes and a terrible one other times. Right now is a little bit of both.)

As it turns out, though, Sam’s not the one making breakfast--Jack is, standing at the stove with a cookbook in front of him and a bowl of batter (and, Cas notices, splatters of batter all over the counter).

Jack turns at the sound of their footsteps and tries to block the stove. “You can’t look. It’s a surprise.”

“Better not be a surprise that involves lighting your shirt on fire,” Dean says, ruffling Jack’s hair as he heads to the fridge to find some cream for the coffee.

When Eileen comes into the kitchen, she doesn’t get rebuffed like Dean and Cas, who have been relegated to the breakfast nook in the kitchen with Sam. She’s been teaching Jack sign language, and sans Cas who knows all languages, Jack is the best at it of all of them, so their conversation by the stove is a flurry of concealed hands. 

Eventually, breakfast is ready, and Jack reveals it with a flourish--a platter of very pink pancakes. “They’re strawberry,” Jack says to the chorus of raised eyebrows. 

“And delicious,” Eileen adds. 

They’re even better, Cas thinks, with whipped cream and syrup all over them, and he definitely eats far too many pancakes to be comfortable. Jack is beaming, though, at the reception to his breakfast, so Cas can’t feel too bad about indulging. 

“We’ll clean up,” Dean says abruptly, standing up and starting to clear plates. He glares meaningfully at his brother. “Right, Sam?”

“Oh, yeah, we will. Eileen?”

Eileen nods and starts picking up silverware.

“What can I do--” Cas starts, but he's cut off by Jack tugging at his arm.

“I have something to show you,” Jack says, and he pulls Cas out of the kitchen and to the back porch.

The porch is one of Cas’s favorite things about the house--it wraps around the back, connecting to the front (so it’s really all one porch), and there’s a swing on both sides of the house. In addition to his little garden, Cas has boxes of flowers on the porch railings and flowerpots on the stairs. 

“Close your eyes,” Jack commands, and Cas complies. He hears Jack’s footsteps recede and then return. 

“Can I open them now?” Cas asks.

“Just a second--yes. You can.”

Cas’s eyes flutter open to see Jack holding a birdhouse in his arms. Cas can tell from the rough corners and one of the nails being at an odd angle that it’s homemade, but it’s painted bright yellow, with bees all over the roof, and a little black perch in front of where the birds enter.

“Do you like it?” Jack says nervously. 

“I love it,” Cas replies, taking it from Jack and inspecting it. “You made this?”

“Well, Dean helped.”

“Well, it’s wonderful. We can hang it up this afternoon.” Cas sets the birdhouse down on the porch and pulls Jack into his arms. “Thank you, Jack.”

Jack holds on, wrapping his arms around Cas’s middle, before mumbling a teary, “Happy Father’s Day, Cas,” into his shoulder. Cas hugs him tight right back.

(Sam’s father’s day gift is that Jack goes on a run with him--they return twenty minutes later because running is more tiring than Jack thought--and Dean’s is that he gets to pick the movie for movie night and they all get subjected to Tombstone for the billionth time.)

(Cas is pretty sure he got the best gift.)

[ladyswillmart]

Ramblin’

I wanna do one where Gordon Freeman ends up at Aperture and Doug Rattmann is so happy to see another human being that it takes him like... at least a week to realize that this guy isn’t saying anything either.

Then Doug gradually gets fixated on the idea they really actually ARE all dead and GLaDOS is just the overseer of some weird self-service purgatory where nobody escapes and everyone has to be the architect of their own private hell (yes, even Grady).

As for Chell, she and Gordon would either get along like a house on fire or become bitter rivals in unreasonably stubborn silence. Or maybe Gordon turns out to be really REALLY good at testing so Chell just fakes a rivalry to kinda inveigle him into doing it all for her so she can spend that time loafing on the old couch in the robotics workshop, watching GLaDOS’s impressive library of taped reruns of The Price is Right with Atlas and P-body (it’s their favorite show).

GLaDOS doesn’t give a hoot either way because, hey, at least someone is testing that new artificial turf hedge maze she designed with all the crushers and aerial faith plates and emancipation grilles and energy pellets and those big wacky hula hoop asbestos clown pants in which one has to catch energy pellets...

Meanwhile Doug is expressing his feelings on the matter by painting a lurid mural across, above, under, around and throughout the destroyed entrance foyer of the Aperture Laboratories main office building. Halfway through he runs out of orange paint (which is kinda necessary to really get the message across that Hell is a very very very very orange place, apparently) and rather than open up a potential infinitude of Aperture Canned Quantum Superposition Entanglements to find some, he decides to finish the rest of the piece as a freeform performance sculpture and lobs a couple fire axes, the robotics lab angle grinder, several Aperture Science Cantilevered Test Javelins and the business end of a lawn gnome into the skull of the giant bronze head of Cave Johnson that served as the foyer’s centerpiece.

This is significant because a little while later, when a couple Combine Advisors finally show up, hot on Freeman’s tail, they observe the mess in the foyer and go: “Oh snap, someone already got this place” and just give up and leave without anyone even knowing about it.

After some more aimless, low-stakes nonsense, the story ends with everyone sitting on the couch, watching The Price is Right reruns, with the strong suggestion that Aperture Laboratories really is the Hotel California of applied science research facilities.