#Auto Repair Near Redding

[jellyfishbug]

POP THE HOOD F'ME

pairing. chris x reader genre. smut with plot. MDNI. word count [5.2k]

content; mechanic!chris, flirty!chris, smoking (they share a cig), sex with a stranger ig? semi public, car head (m recieving), face fucking, big dick chris, reader has an eyebrow piercing, use of pet names, dirty talk, swearing

Maybe it was just dumb luck.

My dad has been promising me that his old ford pickup was gonna be mine when I got my license since I was ten. However, not long after my sixteenth birthday, he randomly decided that his promise had conditions.

I had to fix it myself.

I had been putting off working on it for years. I just didn't have the time, and it needed a lot of work. The list of things to be fixed was long, and I knew if I started then, I wouldn't have finished.

Finally, the time presented itself for me to start. I finally had a summer that wasn't so busy, so I decided in May of this year I was finally going to do it.

I was finally going to get my own truck.

So I did; I worked on it for two long months. Two long months spent in the garage on my back under the heavy pickup with my hands covered in soot and oil whilst sweat dripped down my face. Two long months spent fixing the paint job and fiddling around under the hood, my hair tied back to keep it off my neck while the sun beamed through the opened garage door.

I finally felt confident enough to take it out for a test drive today. It was starting fine in the garage, and I'd driven it around the block a number of times without fail.

I excitedly hopped in the driver's seat and shut the heavy door, jamming my keys into the ignition and grinning at the sound of the roar when the engine started. I made it pretty much across town without a single problem, and I thought I was in the clear.

So, maybe it was just dumb luck when not even an hour later, here I am, standing on the side of the road next to said pickup with the hood popped and smoke coming out of the cabin.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was dumb luck when I realized I was only three blocks away from an auto shop, and a guy pulled over to help drag my car there.

It felt like forever when we finally reached the parking lot. The red and white sign that hung over the opened garage doors read 'sturniolo's auto-repair".

For the most part, the slots were empty, except for a 58' baby blue Impala that was suspended off the ground, and a brand new silver Subaru outback that sat right next to it.

As we finally pushed it into the open slot on the far end of the garage, I let out a sigh of relief, wiping the sweat off my forehead with one hand and letting them both rest at my sides.

I thanked the stranger for his assistance and he wished me luck, mumbling about how much a repair on a truck like this was going to cost before wandering off. I scowled at him as soon as he turned away from me.

Walking away from the smokey and damaged shell of a car, I pushed open the clear glass door into the entry-way of the shop, and the sound of the ringing bells that were carefully tied at the top of the door filled my ears.

Near the desk stood two boys, both were brunettes that roughly stood at the same height. The first was wearing a red toyota nascar cap backwards over his brown hair, as well as a black tank top and a navy blue mechanic's suit that hugged his frame. The name patch on the chest of it read "Matt". He was speaking to another customer, flailing the rag around as he emphasized his points with his hands.

The other was standing behind the counter, a gray bandana tied around his head. He wore a navy blue button up that he left completely open with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, making the white tank top he wore under it visible.

The name patch on his chest read "Chris", and a white rag was thrown over his shoulder. A plethora of keys were hooked to a red carabiner that hung around the belt loop of his jeans. The desk hid his lower half below his waistline, and as I stepped closer, I saw a toothpick in between his teeth and his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he jotted down words on a yellow notepad with a pencil.

I slowly walked up to the desk, my arms at my sides. He didn't raise his head to look at me, he just continued writing, so I cleared my throat.

His head shot up, and his expression fell into embarrassment.

"Fuck- sorry, I didn't hear you come in. How long ‘v you been standing there?"

I laughed lightly and shook my head. "Not long, I just walked in."

A smile painted itself onto his face as he set the pencil down and put his hands in his pockets just far enough that his thumbs still stuck out. "What can i do for ya?" He asked kindly, the toothpick in his mouth moving as he spoke.

"My truck broke down three blocks ago and wouldn't start. I tried looking under the hood to see the problem, but it was smoking, so I pushed it here." I explained, my hands finding each other and clasping together at my front.

He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head slightly. "Jesus, you wheeled it all the way here?" He asked, laughing breathily when I nodded my head in response. "Atta girl. What kind of truck is it?"

"A ford pickup," I responded all too quickly, my voice strained as I tried to ignore how my heart swelled in my chest from the impressed look on his face. He nodded as he opened the drawer next to him and pulled out a ballpoint pen, picking up the notepad once again to start writing. "What year and license plate?"

"85', boston plate, the number is 289 BTO. " I watched as he wrote mindlessly, the handwriting barely coherent.

"'M kay, I'll take a look at it for you." he said, setting the notepad and pen back down on the counter. He opened his palm, gesturing for my keys, and I dropped them into his grasp. He hooked the ring that held them together around his index finger.

"Wait here, should only be a couple minutes."

I nodded as he circled around to the end of the desk, walking past me and pushing open the door to the garage.

His absence gave me a chance to examine the decor of the office space. Family and baby portraits crowded on top of the counter below the window behind the desk. A mickey mouse clock sat above the side door, and a large OPEN sign hung in the window.

The wall was crowded with plates and signs. One that caught my eye was an eagle with its claws digging into a hanging mirror, the name HARLEY DAVIDSON displayed in bright orange letters above the eagle's head. Next to the register was a small bell with a sign that said "ring for service" and the words 'don't actually' were scribbled in sharpie above.

Just when I was getting lost in thought, I heard the door bells jingle a second time, and Chris walked back in. The rag was now hanging loosely in his palm as he approached the counter. He stood right next to me, reaching over for the notepad and throwing the rag back over his now bare shoulder, which is when I realized he had discarded his button up. My eyes dart down to see the keys to my truck now hanging on a different belt loop on his jeans.

"From what I can see," he starts, popping the cap of the pen off and leaving it in between his teeth as he spoke. "It looks like a coolant leak. The combination from the antifreeze leaking and the heat of the engine is enough to make it smoke, but it's not enough to cause the engine freeze up." he explains, his eyes meeting mine every couple of words to make sure i understand. "So, it could also be a fuel pump problem combined with the leak."

I nodded, chewing my lip nervously as he went on to explain the time the repair would take as well as the cost. When the words, "not finished until at least tomorrow" left his lips, I huffed in defeat, and tried to make my disappointment less evident as i crossed my arms in front of my chest.

"How long have you had it?" He asked, now leaning against the counter next to us with one elbow, crossing one foot over the other.

"I've only started to work on it this summer, but it's been my dads since before i was born."

He nodded. "It's a pretty ride," he confessed. "I honestly expected it to look worse when you said 85', but the conditions not bad. You been workin' on it a lot?"

"As much as I can." I shrugged.

He complimented the paint job, to which i confessed i'd done it, and he gushed. "Christ, you should work here. Matt can't paint to save his life. You could probably get him out of a job,"

Matt sent a glare his way. "Shut up, kid. Dad would fire you over me any day, especially if you keep sleeping in."

Chris laughed, a genuine sound that made Matt's glare turn into a small smile before he went back to rifling through the file cabinet.

He turned back to me, pausing to look back over the notes he'd written down. "If i had to guess, I'd say we can probably have it to you by tomorrow evening." he said, looking away from the paper and averting his gaze to instead look me right in the eye. "That work for you?"

I nodded slowly. Suddenly, the issue of a ride home became extremely apparent, and an anxious feeling started to blossom in my chest.

"Good. Just one more thing. . ." he pauses to take the pen cap out of his mouth and place it back on the pen, tapping it against the curve of his hand and grinning wildly at me.

"i'm gonna need your number to let you know when its finished."

He's just asking because he's supposed to; because he literally has to in order for me to get my car back. But regardless, i felt heat rise to my cheeks as i started shifting uncomfortably in place.

"Right," I said, moving to reach for the pen. He points to a blank part of the notepad, tapping lightly to tell me where to write it.

Quickly and shakily, i write out the numbers with dashes. I hand it back to him, and a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. He rips the sheet off the notepad in one swift motion and folds it in half, placing it in his back pocket.

He glances towards the clock. Its nearing seven. He turns back to me, "d'you have a ride home?"

My eyes went wide. I'm reminded of my attempt to call my dad three times when the truck initially broke down, and how my shoulders slumped in defeat at the sound of his voicemail playing repeatedly.

I glance back over to him, ". . . Not exactly. I'll probably just catch the bu-"

"I can drive you,"

I swallowed, my lips slightly parted in surprise. His grin was still wide, awaiting my response.

It was a sweet offer, really. But considering my house was across town, partnered with the fact that he was literally on the job, i shook my head. "That's really sweet, thank you, but I'm far. And you're working, anyway." He shrugs, glancing at the clock once more. "It's fine, Matt's on desk duty and he's closing tonight. I don't mind."

I chew my lip. I'd be stupid to pass up on a ride, but i barely know this kid, and if my dad sees me rolling up with him and no truck, it wouldn't look great.

And then I think about the hour long bus ride that would be in the near future if I declined.

I screw my eyes shut. "You know what? Why not."

Despite the scenario i was in, my mind was pushing out any and all nerves as I watched Chris collect his things from behind the desk. He pulled his wallet, shop keys and jacket out of a cubby.

The two of us walked back into the garage and over to Matt, who was washing his hands in a sink bellow the tool shelves.

Chris bid goodbye to his brother, who looked at the clock and then frowned, turning the faucet off and reaching for the roll of papers towels.

"You're seriously slacking off? I already covered for you and Nate leaving early last weekend." He complained, discarding the wad of paper towels he'd used to dry his hands into the trash bin below.

Chris shot him a look. "And then i covered your sunday morning shift because you were hungover. You owe me."

Matt rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just put your tools away when you open tomorrow. It drives me fucking insane when you leave them everywhere."

Chris salutes. "Roger that." He turned to me and winked, gesturing to follow him through the garage with a tilt of his head.

I followed behind him as he went out a different exit; this one leading to a parking lot on the back of the building. A large EMPLOYEE PARKING sign hung on the fence near the driveway.

He fiddled with the many keys on his carabiner before finally finding his and walking towards a car near the opening in the gate.

A blue, four-seater, convertible 65' mustang. The light from the setting sun literally reflected off of it. He mindlessly stuck the key into the passenger side door, twisting and pulling it open with a faint click.

He gestured his hand towards the seat playfully, "Ladies first."

I rolled my eyes, placing one foot on the floor of the car and ducking my head to sit down. "How gentlemanly of you,"

He grinned at me, closing the door and walking around the back of the car before popping into the driver's seat.

"This is.. wow." I mutter, admiring the small details and cleanliness of the car as he closed his door and threw his belongings in the back. "Jesus, this is yours?"

He smiled proudly, his tongue darting out to dampen his bottom lip. "All mine,"

His fingers twisted the key into the ignition and the roar of the engine made the car buzz against my feet. He rolled both of our windows down, the summer air blowing smoothly through the car.

His smile was wider and prouder than ever as he glanced into the rear view mirror, throwing an arm over the back of my seat to glance behind him as he reversed. We pulled out of the parking lot and turned left onto the main road, Chris letting the steering wheel slide back into place under his palm by itself once he'd done so.

"You said you were far," he mumbled. "What area are you in?"

The question pulled me back into reality. I'd gotten so distracted by the way he drove so carelessly, like he was completely relaxed and in control of everything movement the car made, like fear didn't even exist to him as he pressed harder onto the gas pedal with his foot, my eyes choosing to ignore the way the tic on the speed meter start to spike.

His jawline was illuminated in the dim light, and the toothpick that was still resting on his lips stayed moving as he spoke gently, waiting patiently for me to answer.

I started giving him directions, and he listened carefully and intently, glancing over to look at me to make sure he understood my instructions. Once we were on the freeway, he went even faster, lane switching if someone in front of him wasn't going as fast as he'd like them to.

Soft giggles left me as he did, basking in the view of his lips parted into a smile, showcasing pearly teeth between pink lips.

Once he pulled onto the off ramp and we were stopped at a red light, he turned to look at me again, the bright red turning the car a faint shade of crimson.

"What time do you need to be back?"

He asked with a tone of voice he hadn't used till now. The sudden lowness caught me off guard as I shrugged, "'Dunno, not for a while."

He hummed in acknowledgement. "You wanna stay on the road for a bit?"

I pull my knees up to my chest and let my head fall against the headrest, a careless smile on my face. "Definitely."

And we did; we ended up back on the highway pretty quickly, blasting music through a speaker Chris had propped against the dashboard.

His speed only got higher and higher as time went on, carelessly resting one hand on the wheel whilst the other gripped the gear shift. At some point, his hand had mindlessly traveled to rest on my upper bare thigh below the hem of my shorts, cold and partially ringed fingers pressing against my skin.

"Will you do me a favor?"

I raised my eyebrows and hummed in response. He gestured towards the glove box. "Theres a pack of camel blue 99s in the glove box, would you grab em for me?"

I bit my lip. "Depends, you sharing?"

"Duh."

I leaned forward, feeling my stomach flip when his hand didn't much as move an inch on my thigh, brushing against my lower stomach as I lurched forward to fiddle with the glovebox.

I propped it open and grabbed the pack and paused, "d'you have a light?"

He nodded. "Should be one in there."

I learned more forward and reached farther back, glancing around before locking my eyes on a silver flip top lighter and grabbing it. Once i lean back up, Chris is pulling into an empty lot. His hand leaves my leg to push the gear into park, and i try not to frown.

I flick the top of the cig carton open and hastily pull one out, dropping it into Chris's palm.

He places it hazardly between his lips and turns to face me, silently asking for me to light it.

I pop the lid of the zippo open and hold the flam to the end of his cig, waiting to pull away until his expression signifies that its lit enough. His expression relaxes as he breathes in before pulling it away from his mouth with two fingers and exhaling, the smoke filling the car.

"If I'm honest, I prefer marlboro reds." I say quietly in an attempt to break the silence, watching Chris flick the ash out the window lazily with his thumb and index finger. He shakes his head. "Camels are undeniably better."

I laugh lightly and raise my eyebrows in amusement. "No accounting for taste, I suppose."

He takes another drag before holding it in between his fingers in front of my face, and Instead of reaching for it, I place my lips around the filter while it's still in his hand. Our eyes lock while I breath in sharper, the cool feel of the smoke filling my chest.

He licks his lips, and for a moment, his eyes dart down to look at mine, and he's starts he's studying my face. I'm doing the same.

His eyes are bright blue, surrounded by thick lashes, which are barely visible with stray pieces of his hair hanging down below the bandana on his head. Freckles lightly paint his noise, and his pink lips are slightly parted as his eyes scan my face.

"I like your piercing," he finally says, pressing his one hand to his eyebrow as if he had one himself. I breathe out the smoke i'd been holding in my lungs and smile at him. He's still looking at it as he speaks again, "Did it hurt?"

I shrug. "Not really," Because it didn't, but also because I'd feel like an idiot saying it did. "Just a pinch."

He nodded slowly. "Hm."

I take another hit from the cig which he's still holding up to my lips. Our faces are closer now. One of my elbows is resting on the center console as I look at him through my lashes.

"You should get one." I say.

He laughs, breathy and genuine. "Yeah? You think so?"

"Mhm," i reach my hand up to graze above his eye with two fingers. "It would look good on you." He watches my movements. "We'd match, too."

He digs his teeth into his bottom lip, finally moving the cig back to his own lips and taking one more long drag before carelessly discarding it out the window.

All too quick, he's facing me again, and he leans even closer. I can feel the warmth of his breath on my face. My heart is thumping loudly in my chest, and a part of me thinks he can hear it.

Before I can even blink, he places his fingers on my chin and tilts his head, smashing his lips against mine hard.

Its all teeth at first, clashing messily as his hand leaves my chin and rests as the base of my neck. My hands are on his face, my fingers messing with the curls at the back of his neck while he grins against my lips.

He lightly bites my bottom lip, taking the opportunity to slide his tongue into my mouth. He tastes like cherry and camels, and I feel myself whimpering at the contact.

"Fuck," he mumbles into my mouth, and his tone is exasperated, partly because the console between us is making it harder for him to kiss me like he wants to, and partly because his attempts to pull me close enough for our chests to press together have been unsuccessful.

His hands reach down to tug at the belt loops of my shorts, trying to pull me onto his lap. I pull away for a second to push myself over the console, Chris's grip on my hips staying firm to assist me. I duck to avoid hitting my head on the roof of the car, and Chris giggles lowly.

I finally relax once I'm comfortable in his lap, straddling his legs below me. One of his hands is across my lower half, sliding his hand into my back pocket, and the other rests in the middle of my back, holding me in place.

We're kissing again, and this time it's more lips and tongue then teeth, but he's still lightly tugging at my lip.

I'm tugging at his hair as I push myself closer to his lower abdomen, pressing down, which elicits a groan from him. He pulls away from me, and I try to follow his lips with a whine, but he tugs at the back of my hair lightly so he can press kisses from my jaw down to my neck.

I'm already whimpering as soon as his teeth press against my throat, and he digs them deep, kissing the mark once he's satisfied with the shade of purple its turned before finding a different spot to do the same thing.

"Chris, fuck- please."

I can feel him below me, and it's making me crazy. He doesn't budge, even as I continue to whine breathlessly at him.

He only grins as he continues to nip at my skin, and i felt the smirk on his face against my throat. I tangle my fingers in his hair and tug as a silent plea. "What s' it, baby?"

Baby.

I practically keen at the nickname. He finally pulls away, a string of saliva connecting his lips to his previous spot on my neck. He grins proudly at the marks he's left before looking at me again.

"What d'you want?" his tone is cocky and assertive. His lips look red and bitten, and I start to feel embarrassed at the fact that we were sucking face so lewdly in a literal parking lot.

I want to squirm and writhe away under his gaze, but his knuckle tight grip on me won't let me. I fiddle with the neck of his shirt and avoid looking at him as i whisper, "I need you."

He grins madly. "How d'you need me, sweetheart?"

I lean forward and press my lips back against his, and he entertains for a little before tugging my hair lightly to pull me back. His fingers grip my chin, holding me in place to look at him.

"Tell me what you want."

I brush my hand against his belt buckle. "I wanna suck you off,"

It came out in a mumble, but he understood, nodding somewhat cockily with a shit-eating grin on his lips. A groan left him as he tugged me even closer so our chests were pressed together. "Yeah?"

I nod eagerly, another 'please' ready to escape my mouth as my impatience grows. He ducks his hand between the seat and the door to push it farther back, "On your knees, then."

I obliged immediately, sliding off his lap to rest on my knees below him. My elbows rest on either side of his legs as my hands flew to his belt, unbuckling it and tugging at his jeans and boxers.

He lifted his hips lightly to assist me. I pulled them down until they rested around his ankles, and I feel myself gawk.

He's big. Bigger then I expected.

A nervous feeling bubbles in the pit of my stomach, but the way he's looking down at me through hazy vision makes it vanish even quicker, and I wrap my hands around his length.

"You okay?" He asks, moving his hand to rest on my cheek, his thumb soothingly pressed on my temple.

"No- yeah, i'm good." I breathe. I hover myself over him, finally taking him into my mouth. A string of curses leave him in a hushed breath, and his head moves to rest at the back of my head to coax me farther down.

I pull back slightly, wrapping my lips around his tip and sucking lightly. His chest is rising and falling quickly above me, and his labored breathing is music to my ears.

His cock is heavy on my tongue, and its addicting. I take him farther down my throat, hollowing my cheeks to fit as much of him as i can while my hand is in a fist around his base. I bob my head and twist my hand, looking up at him to see his flushed face as he pants.

"Fuck, you look so pretty like this." He babbles, a throaty moan leaving him when I twist my hand faster, swirling my tongue along his cock as my head rises and falls.

I hum around his dick at the compliment, the slight sting on my scalp from him pulling my hair only pushing me to do more. He pushes me down slightly, and i choke at the burn of his tip making contact with my uvula.

I moan loudly on him at the feeling, tears building in my eyes as the vibration from the noises i'm making cause him to throw his head back, a blissed out expression on his face. "Fuck, so good. Just like that, god."

Drool seeps from the corners of my mouth as I speed up all my movements. Chris is a breathy, moaning mess above me, watching me through lidded eyes as I glance up at him.

He moves his other hand to rest on the side of my face, grinning at my fucked out appearance. "Fucking filthy girl, aren't you, baby." He says through gritted teeth. "You love this, don't you?"

I whine at him, furrowing my eyebrows in pleasure to say "yes', and watching as his eyes roll lightly back in his head when i start to suck lightly at his tip again.

My hand falls from his base to lay on his leg, the other holding the bottom of his shirt in my fist. I try to push my head farther down, whimpering faintly at the stretch.

Chris's hips jerk up lightly at the sensation, causing him to push himself down my throat until my lips hit the base. I start to choke, but I breathe heavily through my nose, screwing my eyes shut and hallowing my cheeks out to stop myself from pulling off.

"Fuck!" he grunts loudly, his grip on my hair turning animalistic. He mindlessly mutters out curses and praise as he pushes my head up and down with his hands, 'good girl', 'don't stop', 'takin' me so good, baby' 'just like that' . . .

My hands are resting completely at his sides as he guides my mouth on his cock, slightly bucking his hips to push himself as far as I can take him. His strokes turn sloppy, and I look up at him again to see him looking at me with a broken glance, bottom lip between his teeth. "Fuck, gonna cum," he gasps.

I begin to swirl my tongue around him, moaning messily on him as if to say, 'in my mouth, please', but he's already reading my mind, digging his nails into my scalp as he spurts coats of white down my throat, an incoherent string of "fuck fuck fuck"'s spilling out of him. Im swallowing as quickly as i can.

I pull off of him with a lewd pop, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. I know i look completely ruined, but I'm still focused on catching my breath and looking at Chris's flushed pink face above me.

His hand rests on my face again, and his thumb soothingly rubs my cheek. "You okay? Was that too much?" he asks, his expression full of concern as he wipes the tears from under my eyes.

I smile, leaning into his touch. "I'm good, it was really good."

He nods, smiling dumbly. "Good."

He pulls his jeans and boxers back up, bucking his belt before pulling me off my knees and back onto his lap. He presses a soft, passionate kiss on my lips, and then trails kisses down the side of my face, pulling my hair back off my shoulders as we both catch our breath.

We're both startled by the loud ringing of my phone in the passenger seat. I reach over the console, sighing in relief when i flip it over and see my dad's name at the top of my screen.

I put the phone up to my ear, watching as Chris rubs circles into my side with his cold fingers.

"Hi," I breath out. I listen as my dad apologizes for not answering earlier. He tells me he heard my voicemail and asks if I'm okay. "M' fine, I just wheeled it to a shop a couple blocks over. I'm on the bus home now, should only be a bit."

Chris pouts at me, and i roll my eyes at him. My dad talks for a couple for seconds before hanging up, and i leave my phone in the drink compartment next to Chris's forgotten lighter.

"D'you need to get home?" He asked. I nodded, and he frowns. "I was gonna get you off in the backseat,"

part two? :)

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[leporinelou]

billy’s mom waking him up while it’s still dark, whispering even though neil’s working the night shift. it’s a couple days before his tenth birthday and she’s telling him they’re going to have their very own adventure, just like the ones in billy’s books. she grabs an already packed suitcase from under billy’s bed and kisses him on the nose, tells him to get dressed quick. the two of them leave in an old beat up yellow bug that she managed to get for a third of the asking price and keep parked around the corner until now. they stay with friends and jump from place to place so neil can’t track them down. billy gets used to surfing couches and staying in motels.

he spends his tenth birthday in a diner, his mom gets him a big stack of pancakes and a milkshake with extra cherries. gets a candle out her pocket along with her silver lighter. sings happy birthday and pulls a face when the waitress frowns at them, just to make billy laugh. she sips at her coffee while billy tucks in. smiles when he holds some out with a “c’mon mama, share with me.”

billy thinks it’s neat. thinks it’s the best birthday he’s ever had.

they eventually end up with a place in california, a little bungalow near the coast and billy grows up with his mom. billy gets pretty shirts from the thrift store ‘cause his mama lets him do stuff like that. doesn’t call him a queer, doesn’t force a baseball bat into his hands whilst yelling at him for crying, for being a pussy. his mom lets him read and keep a journal and press flowers between the pages of the neverending story, she plays hendrix and dusty springfield and laughs when billy comes home from his friends’ house with his first piercing at thirteen. she doesn’t tear down his posters or yell when she finds him using her eyeliner.

and everything’s perfect. sort of.

they have bad days- billy’s mom has bad days. billy calls them gray days ‘cause that’s how the world looks when she’s like this. all her color gone. no singing-dancing in the kitchen or baking five different kinds of cake because she couldn’t decide which one was best, no last minute trips to the beach or sitting outside at night and telling billy about the stars. instead she’ll stay in bed, won’t go to work. she’ll stare at the wall blankly and look right through billy when he tries to talk to her. she won’t take the pills the doc gave her and billy doesn’t know what to do. never knows what to do. just chews at his lip until it bleeds, bites at his thumb until it’s red raw. he’ll get in the bed with her. lay beside her and just talk like she used to do with him when he had a nightmare. hum a song to her.

billy’s still pissed at the world just slightly less so. still has that anger and anxiousness simmering just below the surface and shows his teeth when cornered. he’s still hardened in a way that a kid shouldn’t be but. it’s different. there’s no neil. the only bloody noses he gets are at school, when he fights with the kids who call him a fag and a fairy, call his mom a basket case. he uses fists when they laugh and ask if she’s all there with a finger pointing at their heads, ask if billy will “catch the crazy.”

those are billy’s bad days. sitting in the principals office, icing his knuckles.

when he’s fifteen, billy manages to bag a job at the local auto repair by turning up every day and telling howie how good he’d be, that he knows cars and it’s all he wants to do and please please please. eyebrows pulled together, eyes puppy dog wide and hands clasped in front of him until howie grumbles, throws an oily rag at billy. says fine but billy’s gotta pay for anything he damages. someone brings in a chevy camaro and billy asks howie to let him help fix it up. does the begging again until howie laughs. says get a hold of yourself, kid, voice fond as he ruffles billy’s hair.

billy’s four months away from turning seventeen when the doorbell goes. he’s eating a sandwich and watching knight rider. he’s wearing the necklace his mom got him for his last birthday and- he answers the door. doesn’t think twice. freezes when he sees neil standing there. he looks different. hair a little shorter and more wrinkles. where billy’s gained weight, gained muscle, neil’s lost it. his eyes are a little sunken and he’s still got his wedding band on. he reeks of booze. billy has to remind himself to speak, just says “yeah?” his voice comes out small and neil smiles at him. smiles and billy feels this weird twist in his stomach ‘cause .. that’s his dad and he hasn’t seen him in years and it twists and twists and-

turns out. not much has changed. billy realises a little too late that neil will always be neil. they run again. have to leave everything behind. billy doesn’t get to say bye to his friends, to howie, to the car. they leave a lot of stuff behind and head in any direction away from neil. they both try to keep the mood light, take turns driving and play the tapes billy grabbed. they end up in indiana- hawkins. they stay at a motel until billy’s mom finds a place for dirt cheap. it has two bedrooms and a dingy bathroom, a living room slash kitchen and one hell of a damp problem. it’s dirt cheap for a reason.

it’s above a shop in town and- it’s fine. their landlord is an asshole but they’re together and they’ve got a roof over their heads. billy’s enrolled at hawkins high and his mom gets a job at the laundromat. he tells her that he doesn’t need to go to school, that he could just work and help pay the bills but his mom won’t have any of it. says that she wishes she had finished school and that billy’s too clever to waste it. that he has potential.

billy knows the reason she dropped out of school was because she had him. he just nods, rests his head on her shoulder.

it’s billy’s first day at school and his mom drives him to make sure he actually goes. he gets out the car and tries to shake the nerves off. straightens up and puts on his act. plasters a fake smile on his face and it’s working, he’s got most of the girls swooning and the boys at least seem curious. billy looks around and his eyes land on a guy leaning up against a bmw. his hair’s coiffed to high heaven and he’s wearing a polo, preppy as fuck but- pretty. it’s one of the first things billy realises about him, all doe eyes and moles dotted just about everywhere. he’s got a smirk on his face. not aimed at billy but the guy beside him.

pretty-boy walks over to him and billy raises an eyebrow, plays it cool. he introduces himself as steve and billy gets the idea that he’s top dog at hawkins high, is immediately proved right when they step into the building. king steve, freckles calls him. billy laughs- catches steve looking at him when he does and feels his face get hot. steve just smiles wider, calls billy california and tells him to sit with them at lunch. billy tries to ignore the way steve’s smile makes him feel like the rug’s been pulled out from under his feet.

he nods and steve grins. tugs at one of billy’s curls.

says “i think you’re gonna like it here, california.”

[honeyinthesummer]

faith and pride — kit walker.

dad! kit walker, fluff, kit comforting his daughter. 664 words.

SUMMARY: Lecturing your daughter for slashing her ex-boyfriend's tires leaves Kit emotional.

"Baby, your feelings are valid. But you shouldn't have gashed his tires like that."

You've been lecturing your daughter for a good few minutes now, but all she does is lay down in her bed, facing the wall and sporting that pout whenever she's rebellious.

"The man had sex in his car before he fetched Katherine, mom. I believe he deserved worse than that, but you did great, sis." Knoa interrupts from behind you, and you groan about how your son is just igniting the fire in your daughter that you've been trying to put out. Reaching for one of Katherine's pillows, you playfully throw it toward your son, but Knoa just catches it with a giggle.

Kit scoots beside Katherine at the foot of the bed, concern etched in his face and laced in his voice.

"Did you make us change his tires because you felt bad?" Your husband asks quietly, caressing Katherine's legs in comfort.

"No," she replies, her voice muffled as she cuddles her plushy tight near her face. "He didn't know how to change a tire. He offered to call his mom for a tow truck, but she didn't respond. He wouldn't also like to call his dad because he sneaked out with the Audi. Bastard told me we had to wait out in the woods until his mom answered."

Your eyes widen at the revelation while Knoa snorts out loud at the boy's loser behavior. It was hurtful enough that your daughter's boyfriend hooked up with a girl right before their date, and it would've been torture to leave Katherine with him for a few more hours somewhere isolated. Luckily, Kit's auto repair shop was just a few streets down.

"My poor baby." You say as you lean to her, wrapping your arms around her and resting your head on the tip of her shoulder.

You almost felt bad for focusing on what she did more than what was done to her, and you can feel Kit joining the pile, hugging you both, and planting sweet pecks on both of your heads.

"Besides, I had to show him how it's done." Katherine gently pushes you both away so that she can sit upright, her eyes red, her face stained with tears.

"Had to teach him shit. We don't have cars as grand as his, but at least we know how to take care of it, even the basics. Besides, it felt good showing off how we Dad and Knoa do it as he stands there, useless."

Knoa agrees with a loud uhuh, and you swear Kit is blushing right now. You raise a brow at him teasingly, and he just shakes his hand, his lips trying to stop a smile.

"Well, at least you should know that you deserve a better man. But if you still feel like crying over it, you don't have to rush yourself to heal."

You said softly, but Katherine wiped off her tears, shaking her head, and now she feels better.

"That won't be necessary. Why would I bawl over a guy who's not even half the man dad is?"

Your heart tightens in a good way at what she says. And you recall how Kit answered her call on the first ring, yelled for Knoa to come with him, and left with the shop's truck fast with the wheels screeching—your husband, their father, who the three of you can always rely on.

If you thought Kit was blushing over how his daughter relies on him, it's his turn to shed a few tears. He tries to play it off by wrestling Katherine for a hug, her laughter and squeals lightening the mood. Knoa joins by launching himself into the cuddle fight, making Kit wince and earning a harsh smack from Katherine. You stay where you are, taking in the beautiful sight before you.

"I will always be there for you, suga." You hear Kit whisper to Katherine, gifting both of your twins soft kisses on their foreheads.

[dixons-sunshine]

The Boyfriend Assessment | Quarters Of The Undead AU

Summary: Meeting your best friend’s boyfriend for the first time was never easy. In Georgianna’s case, meeting Vec’s boyfriend felt like a life or death situation—until it didn’t.

Warnings: I can’t think of anything.

Word count: 2.8k

A/N: First official fic for this AU on my part! Aahhhh I’m so excited! I hope I captured Vec accurately, @thevegandarkelf. If not, I’d be more than happy to change a few things. Also, I know there’s no Daryl in this, but I wanted to get a head start on Georgie and Scud’s sibling rivalry. My next fic should probably include Daryl!

Quarters Of The Undead Masterlist

“How do I look?”

At the sound of her voice, Georgianna looked up from the tests she was busy grading and up at Lydia Rae Vector—or, well, Dia for her personally due to best friend reasons, and Vec for others—her roommate and absolute bestest friend in the whole world. The woman in question stood in front of Georgianna, sporting a casual yet outgoing look, all in an attempt to impress the guy that worked at the auto repair shop near Atlanta General, the same guy that was coming over for dinner so that Georgianna could finally meet the man that held her best friend’s heart as of late. The cutie with the bandana, as she had come to know him as from their extensive talks about the man.

Georgianna clicked her red pen closed and leaned back on the couch. She hummed and scanned Vec’s attire, a faux look of contemplation on her face. It was all for show, really. Vec was one of the most fashionable people she knew. If one were to give her a trash bag, she would find a way to style it. But Georgianna knew that Vec loved her reassurance nonetheless, so she always made sure to let her best friend know her honest thoughts.

“You look great, Dia,” Georgianna spoke up after a few beats of silence, her tone laced with honesty and sincerity. “Now calm down and take a few deep breaths, okay?”

Vec took her advice and followed the breathing patterns Georgianna was demonstrating. Once she was certain she was not going to freak out, Vec sighed. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Georgianna stood up from the couch and made her way over to Vec, closely inspecting her rather nervous stature, something that was rather uncommon for the usually confident, straightforward woman. “What’s up, babe? What’s got you so worried? I’m the one that should be nervous.”

“I don’t even really know,” Vec admitted with a small groan. “I mean, when it’s just me and him, everything is so natural. He matches my freak, y’know? And obviously, when it’s just you and me, we can talk about anything and nothing all at once. But—”

“You’re nervous about how we’ll feel about each other,” Georgianna finished for her, instantly understanding where her worry was coming from.

“A little bit, yeah.”

“Dia, you don’t have to worry about what we think of each other, okay? Even if we end up despising each other, I won’t let it affect you. I’ll learn to tolerate him. But I’m sure that won’t even be necessary. I’m sure I’m gonna love him. Well, not like that, of course. He’s your man. I would never betray your trust like that. I—”

“I get what you meant,” Vec interrupted her with a light laugh, knowing well that if she did not, Georgianna would go on a rant in an attempt to explain something she did not have to in the first place. Georgianna had a tendency to overthink, and Vec was the anchor that helped her in those types of situations.

Georgianna sighed and shrugged. “Besides, if this guy—”

“Josh.”

“—Josh is as great as you say he is, then I’m sure we’re gonna get along great.” When Vec nodded, Georgianna continued. “Now calm down, okay? Tonight’s gonna go just fine.”

“You’re right,” Vec agreed. “It will be fine.”

The doorbell to the two women’s shared apartment rung, making them both look over at it. Georgianna frowned and looked up at the clock on the wall, before looking back at her best friend. “It’s only five thirty. I thought he was gonna be here at seven.”

Vec shrugged nonchalantly. “I mean, I told him to be here any time after five if he wanted. I didn’t think he was actually gonna be so early.” Her earlier nerves being replaced with an idea she deemed positively brilliant, Vec smiled. “It gives the two of you the time to get to know each other while I make dinner!”

“You’re kidding,” Georgianna exclaimed in a hushed whisper. “Dia, you can’t leave me alone with him! The living room is a mess! And you know what—”

“What a flibbertigibbet you can be when you’re nervous. Yes, I know, but I also know that he wouldn’t mind that.” Vec gripped Georgianna’s shoulder in—what she hoped was—reassurance. “Believe me, he doesn’t mind messes at all. And besides, I seriously doubt five test papers can qualify as a mess. You’ll be fine, Ginny. I promise. Think of this as a parent-teacher conference.”

Georgianna hesitantly nodded. “Yeah, okay. I can do that.”

“Perfect, because you don’t really have a choice.”

Before Georgianna could say anything, Vec backed away from the woman and stalked towards the door. She opened the wooden barrier between her and her boyfriend, and smiled brightly at the man on the other end. Georgianna forced herself to relax, trying to remind herself that this was not a big deal. She loved meeting new people. She strived for social interactions. She was a complete social butterfly. She could do this.

“Josh, hey!” Vec greeted the man enthusiastically.

If it was not for the fact that she had seen it with her own eyes, Georgianna would never have thought she was nervous at all. Vec truly was a master at changing her emotions in a matter of seconds. Georgianna often joked that her best friend should have gone into the acting business instead of surgery due to that little fact alone.

“Heya, Vee.”

Vec leaned forward and gave the man a quick peck on the lips, before beckoning him inside. “C’mon, you gotta meet Georgie.”

Got to was a bit of an overstatement, Georgianna thought to herself. However, she forced herself to calm down and plastered a smile onto her face. This meeting meant a lot to Vec, and by god, Georgianna was going to ensure that it went as smoothly as humanly possible.

The moment Georgianna’s eyes landed on the man she had heard so much about, the woman had to resist the urge to comment on his choice of clothing. He wore a shirt that had some science joke on it, with a pair of jeans that had definitely seen better days, a big puffer jacket and a pair of sneakers that had a bunch of small doodles on the side. He even wore a bandana, but from the various conversations she had with Vec regarding the cutie with the bandana, Georgianna had expected that last part.

The couple walked into the living room and came to a stop a few feet away from Georgianna. She exchanged a look with Vec, before turning back to the man—Josh—and extended her hand.

“Hi. I’m Georgianna,” she greeted in a tone of voice that closely resembled the one she used when greeting the parents of the kids she taught. “Georgianna Marianne Hawkins.” She had no idea why she had felt the need to give her full government name, but there was no going back now.

The man smiled and gripped her hand in his and shook it once. “It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.” He removed his hand from hers and motioned towards himself. “I’m Joshua Frohmeyer, but you can call me Scud. Just about everybody does.”

Georgianna nodded and looked at Scud with a scrutinising gaze. It got quiet for a few moments, before Scud chuckled awkwardly and cleared his throat. “Okay, then. Where’s the bathroom?”

“Down the hall, first door to the right,” Vec explained, smiling at him as he kissed her on the cheek and disappeared down the hall. When she heard the door close, she turned back to Georgianna. “What was that about?”

“What do you mean?” Georgianna inquired with a confused frown.

“You know, that look you gave him. Like you’re a dad trying to figure out his intentions with your daughter.”

“You trying to insinuate you see me as your mom?” When Vec simply sent her a pointed look, Georgianna laughed and shook her head. “Okay, okay. I just… I guess I just don’t really understand something.”

That got Vec’s attention. “What do you mean?”

“You kept going on about the cutie with the bandana, and I just don’t get it. I mean, I can clearly see that he’s wearing a bandana, but I’m struggling to see how the word ‘cutie’ comes into play here.”

The clearing of someone’s throat slightly startled both Vec and Georgianna. Whipping around, she came face-to-face with none other than the man she had been talking about a few moments prior. Georgianna would have felt embarrassed, but for some reason unbeknownst to her, she did not.

Scud went and stood next to Vec once more, his blue eyes studying Georgianna’s face intently. “Well, then it’s a good thing it’s only her opinion that matters.” For added emphasis, he motioned towards Vec.

Georgianna crossed her arms over her chest and met Scud’s gaze head-on. She did not know where this sudden surge of confidence came from, but there was just something about the man in front of her that made her feel weirdly at ease, like she could speak her mind without having to fear looking like an absolute fool. She could not explain the odd feeling.

“Well,” she began matter-of-factly, “considering the fact that Vec came to me for the initial “yes or nah” evaluation of you, I personally think that my opinion holds a ton of value.”

Scud simply stared at her with a deadpan look. “Not in this case, it doesn’t. In fact, any opinions ya have of me will be taken with a grain of salt.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Well, I think—”

“Okay!” Vec interrupted. Maybe leaving them alone to talk wouldn’t be such a brilliant idea after all, Vec thought to herself. In an attempt to ease what she thought was an uncomfortable tension, she turned to Scud. “How about you help me in the kitchen while Georgie finishes up with her work?”

Scud shrugged and nodded. “Sounds good to me.” He turned to Georgianna with a smirk on his face. “That okay with you, Marianne? Considering your opinion holds so much value?”

Georgianna rolled her eyes at his comment, and the unnecessary emphasis of her middle name. She knew exactly why he did that. Vec must have told him how much she hated being addressed by her middle name. It was the perfect way to take a jab at her without outright insulting her.

“Yes, it’s completely fine with me, Joshua. Just don’t burn my kitchen down while you’re at it,” Georgianna replied, emphasizing his name as well and smirking slightly at the way he cringed at that. Vec had told Georgianna how much Scud hated being addressed by his full first name, so now that once unimportant piece of information had turned way more vital for the Hawkins woman.

“Guys,” Vec chimed in, her eyes darting between her best friend and her boyfriend, “please don’t.”

Georgianna and Vec shared a look, before the former moved over towards the couch and sat back down in front of the test that had laid momentarily forgotten. “Whatever you make, remember—”

“No onions or tomatoes. Yes, I know.”

With that, Vec ushered Scud into the kitchen, leaving Georgianna alone in the living room. With one last look towards where the couple had stood only moments prior, she picked up her pen and resumed with her task of grading the paper, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Yeah, Georgianna had a feeling that her and Scud were going to get along just fine.

“Thanks for coming over, Josh.”

“Of course. This was great.” Scud leaned down and pressed a soft, tender peck to Vec’s lips. He shrugged his jacket on and sent Vec a charming, heartfelt smile.

Georgianna—who stood off to the side—simply observed the couple with a small, fond smile on her face. The two truly did make a terrific pair. They complimented each other’s personalities beautifully. All throughout dinner, Georgianna had noticed how Scud’s eyes barely strayed away from her best friend, even when Vec was not looking. They were perfect for one another, and Georgianna was beyond happy that her best friend had finally found the person that was meant for her.

Georgianna liked Scud. She could see that he was a great guy. Despite only officially knowing him for a few hours, Georgianna felt like she had known him her whole life. Her usual very slight awkwardness when meeting new people failed to make an appearance with Scud, and that little fact spoke volumes. All throughout dinner, Scud and Georgianna made jokes and took playful jabs at one another, like they were siblings just catching up at a family dinner instead of being complete strangers to the other.

Scud’s eyes shifted over to Georgianna, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “Good night, Marianne.”

“Night, Joshua,” Georgianna greeted with a roll of her eyes. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

With one last kiss to Vec’s cheek, Scud disappeared out of the front door. Closing the door behind her, Vec locked it, made her way over to the couch and collapsed onto it. With a heavy sigh, she looked up at Georgianna, her blue eyes sparkling in the dim light of the living room.

“So,” she began, her eyes following Georgianna as the aforementioned woman went about tidying up the living room, “I have a feeling that you don’t particularly like him.”

“Who, Scud?” Georgianna asked rhetorically, though she still received a nod from Vec. “Oh, no, he’s great. I like him. I can totally see why you fell for him. He’s not my type, but he’s yours and I can see myself becoming great friends with him.”

That confused Vec. Her eyebrows furrowed behind her glasses as she gazed up at the brown-haired woman. “I—what? Huh?”

“What’s wrong?” Georgianna inquired, completely taken aback by her friend’s strange behaviour. “You sound like you’re having a stroke.”

“The two of you didn’t stop taking jabs at each other all night!” Vec exclaimed, her tone evidently laced with confusion. “It sounded like you hated him.”

“I don’t hate him. He’s actually really cool, and I could tell that he didn’t mean what he was saying. You know I’m good at reading people, Dia. He’s a good guy and he clearly makes you happy.” Georgianna sat down on the armchair, a sigh leaving her chest. “Besides, his “insults” were kinda weak. I’ve had way worse things said to me before.”

Vec smiled at her. “So he has your stamp of approval?”

Georgianna nodded. “He does.”

“Then it definitely makes me feel better about giving him your number.”

“You gave him my number?” Georgianna asked, although she was just curious, not angry. “Why?”

“I gave it to him a while ago,” Vec replied with a shrug. “It was just in case there happened to be an emergency and I couldn’t call you with my phone. I completely forgot to tell you that I did. I’m sorry.”

Georgianna nodded slowly. “Okay, yeah. That makes sense. And it’s fine.” Vec was just about to say something else, but a yawn cut her off, making Georgianna chuckle. “Go to bed, Dia. I’ll clean up.”

“You sure?” When Georgianna nodded, Vec got up from the couch. “You’re the best, Ginny. I love you.”

“Love you too, Dia. Now go to bed. You have an early shift tomorrow.”

Vec nodded, and with that, she disappeared down the hall and into her bedroom. A few seconds after the door was shut, Georgianna’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She took her phone out, opened it and read the text that had come through.

Unknown: hiya, Marianne. It’s Scud. Thought I’d shoot ya a text to thank you for having me over. It was fun.

Unknown: By the way, I hope you didn’t take my “insults” to heart. I didn’t mean anything by it. It was just playful banter.

Georgianna shook her head at the texts. She quickly saved the number to her phone, before replying to him.

Georgie: Don’t worry, I know. Same here. I didn’t mean anything by it.

Joshua: Good to know.

Joshua: Anyways, I gotta go. Nightly call with my bae. She’s way better company than you. Sorry about that.

The moment Georgianna read that text, she heard the muffled sound of Vec’s ringtone, before it got silenced by the enthusiastic “hey, babe! You home yet?” from the aforementioned woman. Georgianna smiled at the clear-as-day happiness her best friend exuded. She put her phone down on the table and made her way to the kitchen, humming to herself as she went about cleaning up the mess.

Scud made Vec beyond happy, and that was enough for Georgianna to decide that her and Scud would get along just fine.

Georgie belongs to me.

Vec belongs to @thevegandarkelf.

Comment/DM/inbox me to be added to the taglist for this AU!

[maddymoreau]

Fallout New Vegas DLC Sleeping Arrangement Headcanons:

After making my post about my thoughts on how the sleeping arrangement inside the Lucky 38 would work with all the companions.

https://www.tumblr.com/maddymoreau/747184690349342720/fallout-new-vegas-lucky-38-presidential-suite?source=share

I couldn't stop thinking about the DLC characters so here’s my headcanons!!

Honest Hearts:

The Dead Horses and The Sorrows are always courteous offering my Courier Six a bed to rest in:

When traveling with Follows-Chalk if it's too late to return to the Dead Horses Camp, they'll find somewhere safe to sleep. The plan is to have one guard while the other rests. However, they stay up wayyy too late talking. Follows-Chalk teaches her how to read stars while she tells him stories from her travels.

Waking Cloud wears and uses her Yao Guai Gauntlet as a pillow (it also allows her to quickly spring into action). She misses her children and as they're falling asleep, tells Courier Six stories about them.

Joshua Graham is usually the last to go to bed, so he'll sleep on whatever bed isn't taken (or the floor). I imagine he always sleeps on his back. Since it distributes the pain evenly instead of putting a large amount of pressure onto one spot.

If my Courier Six is also awake she'll say a prayer with him before bed.

If Joshua is up late working on inventory and my Courier Six is inside Angel Cave, she'll be lulled to sleep by the fire and noises he makes.

Dead Money:

You know how Dean Domino has secret stashes hidden everywhere? He also has hidden sleeping spots. Multiple pillows and blankets which he does NOT like sharing but will begrudgingly with my Courier Six.

Dean Domino has lived in the Sierra Madre the longest, which has caused him to become a light sleeper. He will always bitch about back pain, regardless if he's sleeping on an old mattress or couch.

Once, when traveling with my Courier Six, she got VERY sick and dizzy from the red cloud, forcing her to rest. Dean thought about ditching her (but couldn't with the whole "wedding rings around their necks" plus he wants to use her for protection). So he dragged her to one of his spots. When Courier Six woke up she thanked him and offered to keep watch, so he could rest as well, which he reluctantly accepted.

Courier Six is the only one he'll sleep around.

Christine has an extremely hard time falling asleep because she’s afraid she'll wake up in the auto doc.

My Courier Six offers to sit next to Christine, hold her hand and keep watch while she tries to sleep. My Courier Six's perception isn't high enough to understand Christine, but she can sympathize with how difficult it is to fall asleep in the Sierra Madre.

Dog and God sleep sitting perched up against a wall. Dog snores while God doesn’t. He's far too large to sleep comfortably on most of the furniture scattered around. Courier Six worries about him but can't convince him to sleep differently.

Old World Blues:

My Courier Six sleeps in the bed inside The Dome. However as she slowly begins repairing everyone inside The Sink (Muggy, Toaster, Jukebox, ETC.) it becomes harder to sleep in there. She also feels WAYYY too guilty about the idea of turning them off.

So near the end of the DLC after getting closer to everyone she starts occasionally sleeping inside The Think Tank. Specifically using the weapon trunk and table next to Dr. 8 as a makeshift desk.

My Courier Six has 100% woken up to some of them hovering over and observing her sleep 👁️👄👁️ (especially Dr. Dala).

After she peacefully resolved things with Dr. Mobius, before returning, she slept on his floor. Making sure not to sleep on or touch any of his notes. Despite this, she woke up with math equations written on her face.

She has no idea how he did that.

His humming and silly singing soothes her to sleep:

Lonesome Road:

My Courier Six is FIGHTING for her life in The Divide and sleeps whenever she can (which isn’t often). Ulysses is watching her from a distance and will also (sometimes) sleep when she does. Due to his past as a member of the Legion and a Courier. Ulysses is able to sleep easily in odd places.

ED-E watches over my Courier Six while she sleeps. Alerting her to any danger. However, until she falls asleep, ED-E lets her hold him like this:

It makes her think of home (The Lucky 38). Since that's how she usually sleeps with her ED-E in the Presidential Suite.

[chimaerakirin]

SOULSEKAI

It's the end of the world as they know it, and Shigaraki Tomura feels fine. February 26, 6 AM. This is not what he was planning to do today, but he can work with it. Frankly, this might be even better. This is not at all what Midoriya Izuku was planning to do today, and it's a disaster. He's going to miss the UA Entrance Exam! Where are his shoes, and who's this voice in his head calling him Ninth?

Rated M for violence (Soulslike-appropriate) and Language (also Soulslike-appropriate). Later chapters may go up to E, because I will not allow Tomura to be maidenless.

FIRST - Second ->

Scattered Like Ashes

"Shigaraki Tomura, why are you still up?"

His character dies on screen again, and he snarls in annoyance, barely keeping his little finger off the mouse. "Because this boss is a fucking whore, that's why!" Tomura snaps. "Why, it's not that late."

"It is nearly six in the morning," Kurogiri says patiently. Too patiently.

"And? 'Snot like the sun's up that early in February. Still dark out means it's not morning yet." With that impeccable logic, he respawns and starts running for his corpse.

"Then perhaps you should go to bed before it becomes morning."

He reaches for his Zone, then scowls as he realizes it's empty.

"And there are no more energy drinks in the refrigerator."

Tomura throws the can over his shoulder at the misty man. As expected, there's a hollow clatter from the direction of the kitchen. He doesn't even care about the caffeine, it's the principle. On the screen, he reaches the boss barrier and goes through it, then bolts for the glowing sphere of his dropped souls. He died on the other side of the arena, he has to go past the boss and—

"FUUUUCK! Goddamn one-shotting piece of shit how did he even DO that?! I've got lightning res out the ass, that should never have fucking—!" His keysmash hits the respawn button by accident, and opens up his equipment besides. His gauntlets have their durability flashing a red zero, their damage resistances cut to near nothing. Right. The last run went on so long that they broke, and the bonfire's auto repair doesn't work if durability goes all the way down, he'll have to go to the blacksmith… and pay for the repairs with WHAT FUCKING SOULS goddamnit he just lost almost a full level!

"If I may, perhaps you will perform better against the boss if you are properly rested," Kurogiri tries.

"Shut up and send me to the konbini." He shoves his chair back and grabs his hoodie and shoes, shoving Father into the front pocket of the former with his phone and a fistfull of yen bills.

Kurogiri droops disappointedly, but obeys. Tomura staggers slightly as he steps through the warp gate. Earthquake? Whatever, it's not a strong one.

He leaves the alley for the Daily Yamazaki around the corner, trying to remember if he had any snacks recently and ignoring another tremor. He looks at the bread shelves, tries to picture the desk drawer he keeps his stash in, then shrugs and drops a dozen curry breads and yakisoba buns into a basket. A six-pack of energy drinks— Wait, Iyemon. He knows he's out of that. He swaps the energy drinks out and just gets a couple of smaller cans to go with the tea. The noodle cups… He finished off the shrimp flavor yesterday and the tonkotsu the day before that, and Kurogiri never just restocks on instant noodles unless he's told to. Shit, he can't remember the last time he had any of the chicken flavors either… And now the basket is pretty much full. He heads for the cash register, then stops at the magazines. Right, he missed this week's Famitsu. And the last GFantasy. Which means he also missed the other magazine…

He grabs one of the freshest curry breads from the bakery case, then ignores another tremor while the cashier rings everything up. The instant the money is on the counter, he stuffs the fresh curry bread into his mouth and leaves with his bags. There's another tremor as he reaches the alley, they're getting stronger now. Which is weird, his phone hasn't beeped. The cashier didn't react either, and usually NPCs are absolute pussies about even the little quakes.

He rings Kurogiri for pickup, then yawns while he waits for the gate to appear. Maybe he'll just crash when he gets back… Yeah. That sounds like a good idea. So he does. Doesn't even bother taking off his shoes or putting the bags down. Just flops over backward onto the bed.

And falls.

And falls.

And falls.

~praise be unto the Sky~

Izuku is more than a little concerned. Or maybe just confused. The beach was almost completely done when he went home last night, and today is the day of the entrance exam, so he got up early to come finish it. Then the quakes started. He pauses every time he feels one, but for some reason the last of the trash isn't reacting to it at all. Not even the broken mirror with loose shards, which should be falling out. Is he just more tired than he thought?

Even so, he manages to get everything up to the ramp. Even the old safe, solid steel construction even if it's rusted around the rivets, and the gutted truck. He doesn't quite manage to stack it neatly — well, as neatly as a few tons of scrap metal in formerly useful shapes can be stacked anyway — before that familiar battered pickup parks at the edge of the beach, but even so, All Might seems amazed and impressed.

All Might sounds proud of him.

He sobs through the haze of sweat, burning muscles, and wind-chill, barefoot and shirtless in the first rays of the morning sun, as the Number One Hero declares him to be a proper vessel for his powers.

Then All Might plucks a hair from his famous bangs and holds it out. "Now, eat this!"

"…Eh?"

Then the ground shakes one more time, and the world comes apart at the seams.

~praise be unto the Sky~

"Owww…" Tomura groans.

His head hurts. His back too. The fuck happened to his bed? It feels like rocks. He opens his eyes.

…The fuck happened to his ceiling?

The sky is a faded blue-gray, way too bright for six in the morning but not obnoxiously bright daylight either. Maybe a rain-threatening ten… Or four PM? Did he sleep? Now that his head is clearing up, he's not quite as tired as he was…

He sits up, noting the bags from the konbini in his left hand. There's a rock wall in front of him, and not a man-made one. Too rough, jagged, gray-brown, with a few scraggly plants on the protruding bits. It goes up maybe ten meters, then curves around. A rock alley. He's in a rock alley, a dead-end canyon. Not a place he recognizes, and Sensei has dumped him in some weird places for training. He squints up at the edge of the cliff. He remembers falling, did he fall from up there? That probably should have broken something important the way he landed, but the bags aren't even split, let alone his spine. A couple of the noodle cups spilled out, but eh, easy enough to dust off and stuff back in.

He stands up and looks around. There's only one way to go unless he wants to climb the cliff, so he heads along the canyon, passing a small spring that at least looks clean and, on inspection, doesn't smell like anything but water.

Then he finds the body.

Normally, a dead body wouldn't bother him. Honestly, the fact that it's a dead body doesn't bother him. Even it being desiccated, crows come and gone and a bit past the stinking stage doesn't faze him. He's seen worse in the Doctor's lab. What makes him stop is the clothes. They're pretty worn down and torn from the weather, but still recognizable. Flexible boots turned down at the tops, pants woven from something scratchy-looking, a quilted jacket with a double-wrapped heavy leather iron-buckled belt over it, leather bands over the forearms. All of it hand-stitched, no zippers or plastic or rubber. The knife sticking out of the body's chest, blood so old it's black staining the jacket — the gambeson — is just as old-fashioned, handle made of horn or bone, about the length of his forearm, blade a little dull but scraped-looking along the edge where it's been sharpened on a real whetstone. Clip point too, he sees when he pulls it out of the corpse's chest.

Then he nearly drops it, because there's a goddamn HUD pop-up in front of him. Like black glass with white window chalk on it.

[Forsaken Knife

Both tool and weapon by design. This example's fate is evidently to be the latter.]

Is that…

Maybe…

…Fuck it.

"Show current status," he whispers, sitting down next to the corpse and hooking his konbini bags around his elbow.

And more HUD appears what the fuck.

It's not a full status screen like he might have expected, he doesn't see a whole panel of attributes, but there's a stack of three thin colored bars, red-blue-green, that he suddenly realizes have been there the entire time and are only moving toward the center of his vision — what's that trivia thing, you can always see your own nose but your brain blocks it out? — now that he doesn't want them to be unobtrusive. The red one is about half full, reading [221/430]. Huh, maybe he did fall, and things just don't break with whatever is going on here. The blue one is much shorter, and practically empty, at [4/120]. And the green one is a full [100/100].

Additionally, there's a small counter toward the bottom right, a gray zero next to an icon of three prisms in a cluster, Tron blue with specks of gold. If he knows anything, that's his XP counter.

"…Hide status?" he tries. The bars and the XP counter don't disappear, but they retreat to the corners of his vision and fade into partial transparency. "All right. Show attributes?"

Okay, there's the stats he was looking for.

[Level 9

Motes held: 0

Motes required: 830]

[Attribute Points

Vitality: 11

Endurance: 11

Focus: 20

Strength: 11

Dexterity: 22

Intelligence: 15

Devotion: 6

Fortune: 9]

Definitely Soulslike stats. Tapping on the stat names does nothing, neither does speaking the words out loud, so he can't find out more about the calculations that way, but he'd guess that Devotion is Faith — he probably won't be casting any Miracles anytime soon — and Fortune is Luck, so his drop rate isn't great and at least one kind of resistance is probably pretty low.

He's not sure why Devotion's so low, since his DEX is quite reasonably sky high as is required by his Quirk, if Focus is literal he knows he's got that in spades, and he's not a fucking dumbass either. Maybe the system just doesn't acknowledge Sensei as a god.

Anyway, there's his Health Points, his Focus Points — huh, Focus must be Attunement or Mind or whatever, and 120 must be on the high end for his level — and both of them have… regenerated slightly over the last couple of minutes? He's got six FP at the moment, and 222 HP. Absolutely useless rates in combat, but worth having out of it. Load, 10.9/49.5 which is weird. He'll check that in a minute. Ready Skills, one equipped, two slots empty.

[Deteriorate (Personal Skill)

Increases Effect Rate of all damaging Status Effects

Cost: Activation 20 FP, Sustain 3 FP/second per Status Effect

Range: Touch

Scaling: DEX D, INT C]

A DoT booster. He giggles. It's like his Quirk, but even better! Sure it won't end a fight the instant he grabs someone's face — wait, does his Quirk still work? He grabs a rock from the ground and plants all his fingers on it. Nothing happens, and he giggles even harder, because holy shit what if Quirks just don't isekai properly and this is what happened to it? So yeah he can't instakill someone just with his 'Quirk' but he has a knife and that means he can fuckin' shred someone with Bleed.

And he currently has Slashing and Piercing damage types available, probably from the knife. It's labeled Attack Potential though, not Attack Power. [Blunt 11], equal to his STR, probably because anyone with limbs can cast Fist but it's never been his thing, [Slash 45] and [Pierce 30] which tracks because the knife has a mildly curved edge, a clip point with a minor sharpening on the spinal side of the tip, and it's definitely long enough to go through someone's heart on top of any artery he can think of but isn't really enough to pull off decapitation. Other damage types, which he doesn't have any current 'Potential' for, are all probably magical. Force, which he assumes is typeless, Fire, Lightning, Frost, Poison, Curse, and Holy.

Defense and Damage Reduction… His total Physical Defense is 11, but since none of that is shown in the Blunt/Slash/Pierce specific Damage Reductions and his Endurance is also 11, he suspects END is more than just the STA gauge. He has no Reductions to anything magical except for… Lightning? At 8.5? Somehow… And Fall Damage, at 15.

"Inventory," he orders. And there's the paper doll screen. His shirt, pants, and hoodie are labeled the Otherworldly Recluse Set, which he can't really argue with even if it does feel vaguely insulting. Everyone knows a black hoodie with the hood up means 'Fuck off' all on its own, and worn with matching sweatpants is a tacitly understood invisibility cloak. Fitting, since the Recluse set has a small Stealth bonus. They all have a max Durability of between 35 and 45, and the shirt is the most battered at [21/35], sixty percent. His shoes (Durability [54/65]) are labeled Quirkless Lowtops though, which is every kind of what the fuck even if they do explain the Lightning res (rubber soles, of course, that would be exotic enough here to count). Father's system name, when he places the hand on his face to see it appear as Equipped, is even more bullshit, Cursed Grasp of Memories, and drops his FP to a hundred while raising his Devotion to 10. Nothing he's wearing has any explanation for the Fall Damage Reduction though.

The Forsaken Knife, now that he's got the details open, has [STR E] and [DEX C] scaling, and is indeed the source of the 45 Slash and 30 Pierce damage potential. It has a Load value of 1.5, so whatever units are being used it's definitely not kilograms, or anything in that fucking mess the Americans are still using. It's also at [72/80] Durability, despite how long the body it was stuck in seems to have been here. A month at least, he remembers, to get to the dry decay stage.

Altogether his clothes and the knife come up to just under eight points of Load… But his konbini bags are showing as Equipped to his arm somehow. Like a shield or something. He fiddles around until he finds the Quickslots — five of those available — and shoves the yakisoba buns and bottled tea into two of those (they stack, which is good because there's only five slots and more than that of the tea alone), putting the curry bread, cup noodles, and energy drinks into the Consumables tab. The magazines go into the Knowledge tab, as does his phone, which has no signal as expected, but is. Uh. Somehow charging off his FP? All right then? He decides to keep that in his pocket instead. Father goes into the Head section of the Armor tab, which has a visibly limited number of slots, so he probably can't just carry around one of everything in hammerspace. The empty Yamazaki bags go into… Crafting tab? Okay. Other tabs include Upgrades, Motes, and Glyphs, and a couple of grayed-out ones. Upgrades are self-explanatory, and Motes are XP, so what are Glyphs?

He looks at the knife again. There's a depression in the grip about where a right-handed user's palm would go, maybe the size of a yen coin. Materia slot maybe? Like an Ash of War? And there's a blank spot in its Equip description which looks similar to the Ready Skill part of his stat screen. Okay, if whatever goes in that slot was shiny, it's gone along with the dead guy's eyes, the crows will have taken it. He can still search the body though. He's not taking the armor, but if he's got pockets…

There's not much, whoever offed this guy was pretty thorough, but there's a pack of five bone spikes that look halfway between nails and throwing knives, three weakly glowing white river rocks, and… an empty, cracked glass bottle with a faintly golden color?

Jackpot! That's gotta be the Estus Flask!

He takes all three items, sticking them into the remaining Quickslots, where he can see the labels of Bone Dart, Lightstone, and Vital Flask (Broken). Then, because it's not actually that grungy-looking, is visibly adjustable, has more Durability than his shoes, and most importantly has the sheathe for his new knife and a few pouches that give +1 Quickslot attached, he takes the belt — Hedge Knight's Baldric — and wraps it like a bandolier. Or, y'know, like a baldric.

With everything properly sorted, he stands up and, when a verbal command of Map does nothing, starts off along the canyon again, just barely not whistling cheerfully. All he needs now is whatever the bonfire and Fire Keeper equivalents are, and they're probably in the same place. This is just the best day ever.

~praise be unto the Sky~

This is the worst day ever, Izuku concludes, curling up in the corner and trying not to hyperventilate. The stone wall is icy against his bare back, and the only reason his feet aren't even colder is that the floor is made up of solid wooden planks, each as wide as his hips, with enough space between each to lose a pencil down. They're not even polished and sealed either, just… vaguely sanded. Like an old picnic table or something. All the splinters worn down by sheer use. For the love of All Might, couldn't he have at least landed next to his shoes?!

"That's called starting as a Deprived. Or a Wretch. Same difference, really," a wispy sort of voice says. The voice is young, maybe university-aged, male, and most unnervingly, in his head. "At least, if this is what I think it is. Pretty sure it is."

"Eep!" Izuku claps his hands over his mouth, looking around wildly.

"Oh hey, can you hear me?"

Izuku doesn't answer. No one here, no one here, no one here…

"Yeah, no, you're definitely here, Ninth. Which is awesome, because it means I am too, and I always wanted to get isekai'd so thanks for that." The voice pauses. "No, really. No sarcasm. My life was kinda shit, even before my brother locked me in a bank vault. You'd want out too. So lucky you, I'm pretty well prepared for this. Can you say 'Show attributes' for me?"

This voice is weird. "Sh… Show attributes?"

A window pops up into the air in front of him and he swallows another yelp.

"Thanks. Oooh, Soulslike. Okay, that could get a little iffy, but don't worry, I'm still an expert. Good news is, you're not actually a Wretch, because you're level 6 and your stats are wheeeere the hell did you get this much Endurance? What in Miyazaki's unholy name?"

"…Who's Miyazaki?" Izuku whispers.

"RL lore later, figuring out how to cheese the system now. Seriously, nothing starts at 25 in a Soulslike, and it's Endurance. A hundred and twenty stamina — hey do you see a red bar, a blue bar, and a green bar in the corner?"

"The corner of what?"

"Well, RL doesn't have a screen so your eye, I guess. Peripheral vision? Wait, please tell me you've played at least some video games. God knows All Might was a normie."

Izuku doesn't know what that means, but he's pretty sure he should feel offended on his hero's behalf. "I, uh. A few? Not much, other kids didn't want me around so I couldn't really hang out in the arcades. Just a few games on the computer."

"Oh boy. Okay, I got your back. Crash course, red bar is your HP, blue is probably your magic, and green is Stamina. Run out of red and you die and hopefully respawn. Run out of blue, you can't cast spells. Run out of green, you can't run, attack, dodge, or jump. Not entirely sure how that'll work here. But you've got really high green for your level, which is good."

The voice sounds entirely too cheerful for having just told him he has a numeric representation of death in the corner of his vision. "Good… Right…"

"You can stop calling me The Voice, you know." A pause. "Wait, right, introductions. I'm Yoichi. Shigaraki Yoichi. Or First, if you talk to any of the others. They're not here. Not sure why I am, you didn't eat the hair yet. Anyway! You've got… 9 Vitality, which is probably tied to your 395 total HP. Not great, but could be worse. Your Focus is 18, you've got 110 Focus Points and three Spell Slots, looks like. One of them has… Forebearer's Aid? 'Requires Stele to cast,' whatever that means, and it eats forty FP. Your Endurance is, again, twenty-freaking-five. Strength 12, kinda weird, I'd have thought it'd be fifteen or sixteen with all your training over the last few months. Dexterity, 11, which is… reasonable? Intelligence 16, which is standard for a spellcaster start, and Devotion, which I'd assume is Faith, is 20, which means you're more white mage than black mage. Sort of. Morality is sort of… squishier than my brother's head after All Might punched it flat, in most Soulslike settings."

Wait, what?

"Aaand the last stat is Fortune, which prooobably covers loot and stuff like that, 9 is about an average starting point for it. Basically, you've got the starting stats of a… marathon cleric, let's say. Just need to find you a healing spell and a beating stick, and you're set!"

"What was that about your brother?" Izuku asks nervously.

"Riiight, Eighth didn't tell you that part. Guess he didn't think it was important, on account of the head-squishing, he's been dealt with and you won't need to fight him. My brother, All For One, boogeyman of the underworld, legendary Quirk Thief, yada yada yada. Trust me, he deserved it. He's the one that gutted Eighth." Yoichi waves that away audibly, somehow. "Moving on. This is some kind of castle keep, going by the courtyard and the walls you saw outside the window. That means it should have an armory, so we need to look around and see if we can't find you some gear."

"But there are guys with swords out there!"

"Didn't you impress Eighth by charging up to a guy made of raw sewage, who had already tried to drown you, to save a kid whose hands could explode? You wanna be a Hero, right? Gratz, kid, you've been isekai'd, you're the Hero. Now let's goooo!"

Fifteen minutes, a compliment on his stealth skills, and two different drunk guys singing very rude songs in a language that is not Japanese but still somehow comprehensible later, and he's slipping through a heavy ironbound door.

"Wooow, pretty well ransacked. Oh well. Still enough to get your properly dressed anyway. Look around, try to find… hm, we'll start with a gambeson, then some chainmail, I think. Your Load, that's equippable weight limit, is pretty high. Look to your left, there's a few… you can call them mannequins. The armor stands."

There are in fact a few mannequin-looking things. "[Lost Keep's Garrison Set]," Izuku observes.

That opens a menu, or maybe a tooltip, that shows him the pieces. A chainmail coat, a quilted jacket that Yoichi calls a gambeson, a matching quilted hood called an arming cap under a 'sallet' type helmet as Yoichi says, quilted pants with a lace-up fly under chainmail leggings that together look kind of like those weird cowboy jeans, metal plates that he thinks are greaves but Yoichi calls schynbalds, some kind of shoe that is not Quirkless Red, and gauntlets of, again, chainmail, with leather palms and plates on the forearms. Somehow, he's able to put it all on at once, with what amounts to the tap of a button, which displaces his track pants into an empty box of his inventory. He's not sure what's weirder, dressing instantly or the fact that all of this fits, and isn't that heavy.

"Wait, put this on too." Yoichi says. Like he's pointing, when he's a voice in Izuku's head. "Right, forgot. On the right, the white cloth thing. Put it on like a shirt, then one of the leather belts from the end of the aisle goes on over it."

Izuku does so, fumbling with the belt, which has to be wrapped around his waist twice, and the white thing immediately turns a shade of green that matches his hair. "Well that's… less… not-sneaky than I thought it would be? I'm not actually wearing a white flag, at least… Is twenty-four physical defense good?"

"…You know, I'm not actually sure," Yoichi admits. "Not enough context. Does this setting have supermassive sets like Smough's? But it's better than what you were wearing before and you should be well under your Load limit so you won't be fatrolling. Which means it's time to pick a weapon! You're a cleric, I suggest a mace."

"You mean pepper spray?" Izuku asks hopefully. He knows it's a vain hope, but still.

"Ahahaha! No. But it oughta be easier for you to use than a sword. Think of it like a baseball bat. Do they still teach baseball as a school sport?"

"Sort of, but I wasn't usually allowed to play… Too fragile, they said," he says bitterly. And on the rare occasions the teacher didn't say, Kacchan and his followers reminded him.

"I'm starting to sense some issues here. Remind me to ask how things are between Quirked and Quirkless these days, I don't think Eighth is really in touch anymore. But later, once we find a Bonfire."

"Bonfire?"

"Save point! Good for leveling up, respawning, and fast travel, among other things! Disclaimer, might not be an actual fire. Maces are on the right side of the room."

There are about a dozen identical maces to choose from, so he grabs one at random. It's heavy in his hand, but he can swing it, and more easily when he holds it with both hands. "I can work with this, I guess."

"Great! Now, you really should have a backup weapon. A knife of some kind would be best, utility and all that. Let's see… There, with the disk guard and pommel. That's a rondel dagger, take that. Little bit slashy, mostly stabby."

The [Rondel Dagger] is in fact mostly stabby and a little slashy, going by its 14 Slash and 60 Pierce damage spread. Izuku dutifully slots the sheathe into his belt. "Am I done yet?"

"Almost!" Yoichi replies, manically cheerful. "That's your equips, now let's check the quartermaster's office for consumables, tools, upgrade mats, and lore!"

Izuku groans.

[red-n-ded]

Little Red Corvette (Ft. The Beatles) Part One

Benjamin O’Brien lives in Brighton Falls, California, trying to escape the trauma from a protest that caused him to lose his voice.

When an old friend visits and signs him up for a street race for his 18th birthday, he buys a beautiful Chevrolet Corvette unaware that under all its pain lies a stubborn but gentle Autobot from outer space with no memory and shared love for 80’s music.

Or

Reverse Roles of AU of Bee and Charlie meeting and giving each other their named through the magic of music and insect posters.

(And yes, Bee is a fan of the Beatles bc I said so)

Next (Coming Soon)

Ao3 Sneak Peek and Link Below

Benjamin O’Brien has a normal life, or at least tries to.

Every morning he wakes up, eats his breakfast, takes painkillers for his damaged vocal cords, goes to community college for his auto shop classes, and goes to work at the beach boardwalk. It gets boring after a few months doing the same thing over and over again but it’s not the worst. He’s finally getting a proper education and now lives near the beaches of California, something younger Ben could only dream of doing.

It’s not the racing life but better than dying on the frontlines.

Tomorrow is his birthday and Ben wanted to treat himself. Days and weeks of a domestic life, he deserved for a bit of an adventure. A while back, he saw posters for a movie marathon at the local drive-in and Ben is a sucker for 80’s movies (His copy of the Breakfast Club is worn out from his 50th rewatch). He would go but the poor guy doesn’t have a car except a yellow Volkswagen Beetle that doesn’t even work. Who in their right mind goes to drive in without a car? Only the insane in his opinion.

Not too far from his host home is the local junkyard. Ben sometimes works there for extra cash or when he just wants to get his hands dirty working on cars again. For the past few days, he has been getting parts to repair the Beetle, using half of his wages to buy the parts he needed but so far his work has been in vain. Maybe on the day before his birthday, he’ll get some luck.

BEEP BEEP BEEP!

His head buried under pillows and blankets, the tired 17-year-old slams his fist onto his alarm clock, silently cursing in annoyance at the dreaded box yet forces himself to sit up, blinking his blurry vision to adjust to the sunlight. Hoping to wake himself up, Ben leans over to his bedside table, puts on his black bluetooth headphones and presses play on his phone.

“Desmond has a barrow in the marketplace, Molly is the singer in a band. Desmond says to Molly, “Girl, I like your face” and Molly says this as she takes him by the hand Ob-la-di, ob-la-da! Life goes on, brah! La-la, how their life goes on. Ob-la-di, ob-la-da! Life goes on, brah! La-la, how their life goes on! Ob-la-di, ob-la-da! Life goes on, brah! La-la, how their life goes on!”

Ben mouths the upbeat lyrics as he changes out of his pajamas, slipping on a white tank top and slightly-used navy jeans from the carpet. He goes to brush his teeth and his head naturally begins to beat, the tiredness and annoyance from before already fading away. The teen cleans himself up and goes to the kitchen to eat breakfast, turning up the music on his headphones to dance on his way to the cabinets. Thank god no one is home. He opens the cabinet door to grab the last box of cereal but a knock in the door interrupts.

Ben slides his phones down to his neck. Who could possibly be up this early? The teen turns off his music and makes his way to the door, putting down the cereal box to turn the handle. The door swings open and his eyes immediately catch the hot pink color of hair.

“Hey, I-“

OH HELL NO!

SLAM!

The house nearly shakes at how fast Bee slammed the door on his old friend. Ben doesn’t let her answer, grumbling angrily at his visitor and ignoring the desperate knocks from the other side.

It’s too fucking early for this.

“Bee, please.” She begs between her knocks, “I just want to talk!”

The blonde teen freezes. Bee? Geez, I haven't heard that nickname in years.

Arcee, the hot-pink-haired biker outside his door, keeps knocking, her requests to let her inside fading into white noise in Ben’s ears. Hearing her voice again, just as panicked as he last heard her, hurts more than he thought it would.

Ben stays silent, which is all he can ever do. His hand trails up to his neck where a faded scar across his Adam's apple, his fingertips tracing the indents of the jagged shape. He wanted to put his old life in New York behind him, a life of fighting and protesting against a corrupt system. It wasn't supposed to be violent. Optimus promised that they wouldn't try to resort to force but the Decepticon mafia attacked first and that protest became a riot, one that cost him his voice.

Don't do it Ben. Don’t do it. It’s been almost a year. You can’t get hurt anymore.

Arcee was there at the protest but wasn’t there when Sergent Blitzwing ripped out his vocal cords. She doesn’t know his pain and the trauma that riot caused. Yet, his heart longed for a friend. Living alone has taken a toll that Ben isn’t willing to accept.

Maybe for a moment, just a moment. Then she can leave and never come back.

Ben shaking hands goes to unlock the door. The wooden barrier swings open and he stares blue to brown eyes at Arcee, who’s relieved at the open door. She smiles awkwardly but tries to put up a comforting face.

“Hey Bee,” she mumbles. A beat passes and the two just stand there. Bee looks at the clock and sees the minute hand inching closer to the 9.

Gah! I’m late!

The teen quickly types into his phone, “Do. You. Know. Sign. Language. ”

The biker perks up, surprised by his form of communication but doesn’t make a show of it. “Yes, I do.”

Bee tucks his phone into his pocket and steps aside, giving Arcee the permission to enter his home before he rushes to the kitchen to eat his unmade breakfast. Arcee nodded in appreciation and walked in, shuffling her feet onto the black floor mat before taking off her boots. She looks around, in awe of where his old crewmate has been staying for the past year. It’s surprisingly big for a teenager living alone and not to mention so close to the beach.

“A nice place you got here,” Arcee compliments, earning a humble buzz as Bee pours out his breakfast, briskly walking back and forth from his bowl and the fridge, “How’d you get it?”

“Host family.” Ben signed after putting away his milk, “Currently on vacation.”

As far as Bee remembers, the raceway in New York has always been his family. He was homeschooled in the pits and learned to drive before he could hit puberty. His origins are a complete mystery and for a while, he didn’t mind until he left. It was at that moment that Bee realized that he had no one. No one on the team was biologically related to him and there are no records of his birth. Bee might as well be non-existent.

The O’Briens are nice. Their son Dylan warmed up to him very quickly and his parents treated him like any other decent person would, even indulging in his odd taste for 80’s pop culture and music. Staying with them was a great idea but Ben knows he’ll never be part of their family and that’s okay. He wasn’t even offended when the family didn’t bring him along to their pre-paid vacation. He’s only living with them and that’s a fact that Ben is willing to accept.

Seeing his true family again and standing under the same roof as someone he considered as an older sister is odd. Arcee looked different since he last saw her. Her hair is shaved and cut up to her chin, her outfit consists of way more leather and black, and her wedding ring is missing.

Did something happen to her and Cliffjumper? Hopefully they didn’t end on bad terms.

Arcee remains quiet, looking around the O’Brien’s house with curiosity. It has only been a year but Bee has changed a lot. Bee has definitely taken the time to relax and act like an actual teen. He looks a bit more round and chubby, especially around the face, but his muscles remained firm, emphasized by his tank top while not too obvious. The biker laughs to herself remembering how much a skinny stick Bee was. The headphones are a new addition and so is his attire. Arcee realized that he had never seen Bee in jeans before, always found running around without the restriction of the denim.

Bee grows annoyed at the silence and stops eating to knock on the table, grabbing Arcee’s attention. “What are you doing here?” He signs as milk and crumbs drip from the corners of his lips.

Arcee leans back on her seat and smiles warmly, “Is it bad for an old friend to visit?” She joked, walking towards the dinner table where Bee is sitting. Bee frowns, an annoyed buzz escaping his throat which annoyed him even further.

I hate it when it does that.

Her grin fades into concern, curious and worried about the lack of the upbeat voice she once remembered, “What happened to your voice?”

“None of your business.” Bee gulps down the last of his cereal and dumps his empty bowl into the sink. Bee walks in long strides, speeding his pace to get out of the house as quickly as possible but Arcee isn’t so keen to see her old friend leave so soon, not when she just got him back.

“Bee, can we just talk?” Arcee sighs, exasperated by her old friend’s stubbornness but there’s a hint of begging in her voice.

There’s no denying that the base hasn’t been the same since Bee disappeared. They all thought he died but Orion knew he wasn’t. The biker didn’t know how he knew or why her leader never pushed to find his surrogate son but Arcee isn’t the type to let go of someone close to her so quickly. Not after…

Cliff.

With a red and yellow plaid button-up in his hand, Bee pauses at the soft desperation. It hurts to hear but before he could open his mouth, any and all words that could comfort her, reassure his friend that he misses her just as much, die from his lips, even if he can talk. He doesn’t look at her and taps on the doorway in morse code, “I have to go to work.”

The pink-haired biker remained frozen in her seat as the door slammed shut.

The rest of the day went by like a blur filled with crowds on the boardwalk and bullies from his classes dumping lemonade or making his job not worth the $20 an hour. It’s almost pathetic. The blonde knows any and every way possible he could run star wrestler, Shelby “Shatter” Bassett, into the ground without breaking a sweat. Maybe a punch in the face or a scratch on her boyfriend’s (admittedly stunning) royal blue AMC Javelin could also get him to shut up.

But he’s not B-127 the Freedom Racer anymore.

He’s just Benjamin the Hot Dog on a Stick cashier.

After a thorough wash to get all the lemon pulp out of his hair, Bee made a pit stop at the junkyard. With his birthday coming up in a few hours, the young teen hoped that he could get the Beetle up and running. He grabs his red toolkit from the back of the motorized bike he rides on, voicelessly greets the owner and rushes into the piles of the cars in the lot, taking apart the pieces he wants. Grime and oil gets on his button-up and skin and the metallic stench of rust seeps into his nostrils but the blonde doesn’t mind, remembering the similar smell back in New York except missing the sound of race cars zooming in the background.

“Can’t catch me, Bee!”

“Fat chance!”

“Go faster, papa! Faster!”

“If you say so, little one!”

“Tell me where your friends are hiding!”

Wait.

“I’ll never talk!”

Stop.

“Is that right?”

Stop it!

SHING!

“Then let’s make it official.”

NO!

[slaymybreathaway]

YOU'VE REALLY GOT A HOLD ON ME

◇Chapter One◇

Chapter List Masterlist Introduction

Word Count: 1k

Content Warning: physical violence (getting jumped)

1965◇Grace and Sally's Style Salon

"Hey Sally! I'm gonna head home now, alright?" Grace called out. She propped the sweeping brush up against the wall before taking her navy cardigan off of the coat hook and put it on, not bothering to fasten any of the buttons.

"See you later, Gracie!" Sally called out from where she was washing a client's hair. Grace smiled at her friend's ever-present enthusiasm, before hanging the strap of her canvas handbag over her shoulder and walking out the door.

The pair had been best friends since freshman year of high-school and had decided to open a ladies' hair salon near the end of their senior year. They came up with the idea after realising that most of the salons in Tulsa were on the West side and were too expensive for the 'Greaser' women to go regularly.

Now, a year and a half after their graduation and two months since they opened 'Grace and Sally's Style Salon', the pair are finally starting to get regular customers. That is a relief because it has been a rough couple of months financially. Even to the point that both women had to take up second jobs working at the concession stand at the Drive-In in the evenings.

Gracie walked down the streets of Tulsa, she would usually drive but her car broke down a few weeks ago and she hasn't been able to afford the repairs. So now she had to walk to work.

As she passed by the picture house she saw a red Corvair parked on the side of the road she was walking on with the keys still in the ignition. She knew this meant trouble because the Socs would never park out in the open when they're in Greaser territory, let alone with the keys still in their car.

She was about to cross the road so that she wouldn't run into whoever owned the Corvair. But before got the chance to, she saw a group of Soc boys not far ahead of where the car was parked. They seemed to be circled around someone else on the ground. A boy with long reddish-brown hair.

It was only when Grace saw a familiar group of Greaser boys running towards the gang of Soc boys did she realise who it was on the ground. The Socs jumped up and tried to run at the sight of the gang, but the Greasers got a hold of them and started throwing punches.

Grace wanted to fight too, but figured it was best not to. Instead, she ran up to Ponyboy and dragged him to the side of the building, away from everything that was going on. "Hey, are you alright kid?" she asked, taking a packet of tissues out of her bag and wiping the blood from the cut on his throat.

All her life, Grace had lived next door to the Curtis family. Their mothers were best friends, so the Curtis brothers were like family to her. Since her parents died in the same auto-wreck that killed Mr and Mrs. Curtis, they have become closer than ever. It seemed like Grace was over at the Curtis house more than she was at her own these days.

Ponyboy didn't answer, he looked a bit disorientated at the speed of everything that was happening. Before long, the socs had disappered from sight and the gang had crowded around where he was sitting.

"Are you alright, Ponyboy?" Darry asked as he lifted his brother by his armpits and hauled him to feet, shaking him.

"Quit shakin' him Darry. He's probably dizzy enough already," Grace said pointed out, crossing her arms.

Grace had always been the closest with Darry Curtis, since they were the same age. They both acted like the parents of the gang, keeping the rest out of trouble when they needed it.

"Yeah, quit shaking me Darry. I'm okay," Ponyboy muttered, he still looked shocked but he was coming to his sences now.

Darry let go of him straight away. "I'm sorry," he said and Grace knew that meant it. He doesn't realise his own strength sometimes.

Ponyboy sat down again and started rubbing his cheek, it was definatley gonna be bruised in the morning. Darry jammed his fists in his pockets, a look of worry on his face. "They didn't hurt you too bad, did they?" He asked.

The kid looked up at his brother and nodded. "I'm okay," he repeated, but within a few seconds, Ponyboy had turned as white as sheet and his eyes filled with tears as he started to shake and cry.

Grace sat down beside Ponyboy on the sidewalk. "Easy Pony, they ain't gonna hurt you no more," she said in a hushed voice, trying to calm him down as she rubbed his arm.

The boy turned away and wiped his eyes, not wanting to seem weak. "I know," he breathed, shakily. "I'm just a little spooked, that's all,"

Sodapop stuck his hand out and rubbed the top of Ponyboy's head with a smile. "You're an okay kid, Ponyboy,"

Ponyboy returned his grin as he shook his head. "You're crazy Soda, outta your mind," This made Soda laugh and help him to his feet.

Darry crossed his arms. "You're both nuts," he muttered. Then he turned to Grace, held out his hand and pulled her up. "Thanks" the girl mumbled as she wiped the dirt from her tight-legged jeans.

Sodapop cocked an eyebrow amusedly. "It seems to run in the family," he smiled. Darry rolled his eyes with a chuckle as the gang started walking in the direction of the Curtis house.

[omegaremix]

Veterans’ Path, 2019.

This year’s one for stasis, an equilibrium that gave no leeway for possibility or moves. It’s not a good feeling when you’re dealing with depression after a major heartbreaker and you need some serious outs to move on. You leave it in someone’s hands to help make some of those changes. Instead, they fall short and constantly buy time, your time you’ll never have back. It doesn’t help any when doctor’s appointments, meetings with investors, pending vacation-weeks, the desire to escape to the city and see family are on the backburner for months instead of mere days, so things are never answered for. Everyday you deal with toxic, needy people who literally drain you of your resources for their own personal needs without any etiquette or consideration of your well-being or sanity. You bleed money for their failures and mistakes. You sit idle while you see your friends, allies, family, and everyday people make moves while your hands are tied tightly behind your back and there’s nothing you can do about it.

So what can you do when the high cost of auto repairs, late inspections, and the constant delivery of traffic violations and tickets keep you grounded? Nothing…except take a walk down to your local veteran’s path on your days off. It’s been the only form of escapism and a reprieve of leaving behind the disruptive anxiety-driving components back home. Walk out the front door, then along the service road and under the highway, down one clean residential street, turn a couple of corners, down another street where houses and open skies phase into heavily wooded areas, and finally you’re there.

Arrive at the veteran’s path where there’s always a pick-up game on the asphalt. Families of three, five, even seven – some with their kids on tricycles or dogs – walk together through elevated wooden plankways that zig-zag though the trees. Smell the sharp scent of apples, shampoo, or shades of ocean mist just by walking past the young Spanish girls who kindly smile and say ‘hi’ to you as you walk past them. Trees of emerald leaves in the spring or red, orange, and yellow leaves in the Autumn stand above a newly-replenished pond creating a mesmerizing near-perfect reflection. Walk off the pathways for the many heavily-wooded dirt roads or walk past the pond to find a hidden treasure: the graffiti tunnel doubling as an underpass for the railroad tracks above. Leave the veteran’s path and wash your hands at the bathroom which reeks of a church cellar and its’ soap dispensers pour out liquid lavender that makes a subtle mark on your trek. Two hours is enough time to dismiss your troubles, sort out your next moves, and even make a phone call or two to your family; all before arrive home right before sundown to catch up on the rest of the day’s posting, graphics, editing, and auditioning. Another quiet, peaceful day written in the record books.

Of course, I wouldn’t have an afternoon walk without something to listen to. My iPhone SE (32GB) replaced my seven year-old iPod Classic (160GB). With limited space, I only take about three months of finds with me. Those two hours of walking means I have more time to audition music for upcoming Omega WUSB shows. What’s in it, then? In case you truly care, it’s mostly city: d.i.y, safe-space, post-punk, indie. You can thank some of my friends and allies at the station for the first four. You can also thank Post-Trash, Brooklyn Vegan, Gold Flake Paint, and Alt-Citizen; all whose featured shining stars post their new sounds on Bandcamp and Soundcloud.

Jazz / fusion has taken me to places that no longer exist; places I never been to that I could never visit in a physical realm ever again. It makes me feel things only a very few can now imagine or understand. If someone lived or experienced it vicariously through the passing images, typesets, colors, aesthetics, and sounds that I have, then you’d understand.

Post-punk, d.i.y., or city? Not so much. The time is now and is very much alive, thriving and changing by the year because it’s here. Aesthetics of Wharf Cat, Katorga Works, Public Practice’s Distance Is A Mirror, Future Punx’s This Is Post-Wave, Gong Gong Gong’s Phantom Rhythm, Current Affairs, Boulders, Merchandise…I assure you get it by now. They, too, made me feel things to my own liking while many others in the scene are simply living in it. My aforementioned friends at the station: Conor, Layne, Toasty, Alosha, Kiki of Horrorscope… they bring their d.y.i. / city mindset to the station and it’s why Omega WUSB is feeling very proud of itself. As all this cycles in my head, it feels like I’m living another life, a life I’ve been trying to achieve. Scenarios I envision can be entirely possible and are waiting for me. I truly feel like I’m somewhere else; a place that’s very real but still far away from me…for now. That’s how powerful the connection is.

It’s been a void year for me, and such an anti-climactic way to end the decade. Only fitting after having a very wild year of extreme euphoria and collapse. The several trips to-and-from Veteran’s Path was the only thing I had to myself this year aside from a rainy Spring day out at Central Park. As a creator, you do your best in making something out of what you have. All you need is a time, location, soundtrack, and motive, and you have the makings of a new experience; a new mechanism for surviving an empty era.

Duckis demo

Annabel Lee “Hi Hi Hi”

Ex Hex “Cosmic Cave”

Garcia Peoples “Feel So Great”

Rong “Cup”

Spirits Having Fun “Auto-Portrait”

Ripped Jeans “Afraid”

Public Practice “Foundation”

Dig Nitty “Angel Calling”

Current Affairs “Breeding Feeling”

Strobobean Winter

C.H.E.W. “Bread and Circus”

My Brightest Diamond “Quiet Loud”

Free Time “Esoteric Tizz”

Sneaks “Tough Luck”

Patio “Legacy Continued”

Big French “Alison”

Jeanines “Is It Real”

Diat Positive Energy

VV Torso “Blood”

Dry Cleaning Sweet Princess

Weeping Icon “Teeth (& A Handbag)”

N0V3L “To Whom I May Concern”

Model/Actriz “New Face”

Channels “To The New Mandarins”

Sub Dio s/t

Bangzz “Your Boyfriend Is Really Bringing Me Down”

Ing “Closet”

Palm “Heavy Lifting”

Nazca Plate “Blotter”

Necking ”Big Mouth”

Pllush “Soft In The Dark” (1st VER)

Being Dead “Apostles’ Prom”

Remote Viewing “Whitney Houston, We Have A Problem”

Taiwan Housing Project “Buy Buy Buy”

Lungbutter “Vile”

Knife Wife “Every Living Thing”

Preoccupations “Pontiac 87”

Gong Gong Gong “Siren”

Dumb “Club Nites”

Second Still “You Two So Alike”

Rapid Tan “Gravy Baby”

Dry Cleaning “Sweet Princess”

Palm “Forced Hand”

Lunch Lady “Sweet One”

Kitten Forever “Hell Hole”

Necking “Spare Me”

Thanks For Coming “We Can’t Both Be Crazy”

Mock Identity “Where You Live”

Doe “Team Spirit”

There’s so much more than all the post-punk and d.i.y. I found. It wouldn’t be fair to ignore our rule of “as it happens, when it happens, anything goes.” The jazz / fusion time-and-space travel is still very much in operation. Down further is our new-found interest in Oakland / Mexican death-rock. Omega WUSB didn’t have a Halloween special this year so it didn’t get its’ day in the darkness. (Were you expecting sunshine?). Finally, some random spins of the wheel in synthpop, synthwave, electronics, hip-hop, and hardcore.

Walt Barr “Free Spirit”

Edgar Vercy “La Mer”

Paul Williams “Wistful Dreams”

Pasteur Lappe “Na Real Sekele Fo Ya”

Phil Upchurch “Black Gold”

Teddy Lasry “Riverhead”

Walt Barr “Creepin’”

Ötzi

Kurräka

False Figure

Cruz de Navajas

Zotz

Adrenochrome

CRVEL

Mystique

Pawns

CHKBNS “Can You And Me Still Have Fun?”

Canal Street Electronics “Deep Red”

Glued “No Past”

Odwalla 88 “What The..”

Sleazy “Cauchemar Administratif”

Your Old Droog “Bubble Hill”

Cave In “Winter Window”

Kedr Livanskiy “Kiska”

Planit Hank f. Jeru The Damaja & Buckshot & AZ “Life In Crooklyn”

[tennypress]

Gun x Goo x reader smut

I’ll write another one !

(No smut sorry, but I might make a nsfw part to it

Street racer AU

(Inspired by fast and furious)

WARNING: love triangle, gender neutral reader

“Ooh, Mami, this a new 'Rari. Hit 150 on the dash, I bent the corner, then she bent it for me sideways, uh I might have to fuck her on the highway, yeah”

You just stepped out of your white and red 1992 Mitsubishi Galant VR 4 hugging your friend Zoe park after she ask you to drive in her place in a local street race. There you see three other cars. A yellow and black 1970 Dodge Challenger R/T and fuzzy dice hanging in the rear view mirror with a guy with blonde hair and sunglasses chilling outside chatting with others.

A green 1993 Toyota Supra Turbo with an older guy with a shaved head and wearing a tank top chilling outside while listening to music with his friends.

Then you see a car that caught your attention. It was a black 1999 Nissan Skyline GT-R R34 with a custom painted oni design on the side. You can see the owner on the side smoking a cigarette and just waved to you. Your intrigued.

But your car was amazing too. It was gifted to you by your father. It was white and red 1992 Mitsubishi Galant VR 4 with a custom paint with hello kitty in the side.

As you enter the race the other racers were snickering and making fun of your car. Saying how it looks girly and too old. However the owner of the nissan just glanced at your car before turning back to focus on the race.

You held onto your wheel as you see the flag girl raise her bandana? Or cloth and just waved it before stepping aside for you guys to race. Then you hear a speakerphone of someone you knew. Daniel park, signaling and counting down. 3, 2, 1, and go! You all step on the pedal

Your racing and your in 3rd place before you see the bridge pull up. The green car owner stopped before you see a flash of yellow also slow down. Now it’s between your Mitsubishi and the owner of the Nissan to finish this race.

Both of you speeding up you drove off the bridge and managed to land on the other side safely.

You both returned back safely and exited the car.

There you get out and a crowd comes rushing to the both of you. Including Zoe and Daniel. They just come up to you and congratulate you. Before you see the Nissan owner also coming up to shake your hand.

“That was impressive, no one has beaten me in a race before. I’m Gun. Gun park” he just greets you with a prideful smirk.

You just smile back and shaked his car before seeing the other racers come up. The green haired guy, or Taejin just comes out pissed and throws his steering wheel out on the ground while another man with tan skinned with glasses comes up to comfort Jin. While Zoe just holds onto you and Daniel looks at Gun with caution. You noticed that the two of them had tension.

“GOD DAMMIT” you see the Blonde glasses man come up with his car totaled and goes up to Gun and grabs his collar.

They were just arguing until you came up to the both of them. “Maybe I can fix your car? I own a auto shop near the city.” Goo just comes up and holds your hand into his and smiles while tears come out of his eyes and agreed. You all bid farewells and drove home. The next day you open your shop and see them both outside with their cars. You welcome them both in offering them drinks while you fix their cars.

Goo just took a coffee while Gun took a beer and you took in Goos car to fix.

Gun couldn’t stop staring at your ass. How it fitted the suit that was covered in dirt and oil. Or how your tank top perfectly outflanked your tits. And how you had that cute hat on your head.

Goo just stared at you with admiration while you fixed his car.

It took a while but you managed to repair the man’s car and took them to the register to tell them the price.

“Good thing most of the car was alright. But for the Windshield crack repair, window replacement, windshield replacement, bumper repair and replacement, scratch repair, frame damage repair, and engine replacement it’ll cost you around 3.4K. How does that sound?” You said ringing up the prices

Goo just nudges to Gun and he groans taking out his card and swiping it. You give the receipt and take out the vehicle out of your shop.

You wave goodbye as you see them leave. Closing up the shop you see a letter left on the counter. Curiosily you went to go pick it up and read it. You see tears swell up with happiness as you see the same love letter you wrote to a good friend of yours after he had left to Japan.

[mobilemechanics1]

How to Instantly Find Trusted Mobile Mechanics Near Me

Introduction

Ever had your car break down in the middle of nowhere or just didn’t feel like waiting three hours at a shop for a basic oil change? We've all been there. That’s where mobile mechanics swoop in like superheroes—except their cape is a toolbelt, and their power is saving your day without you ever leaving your driveway. But the key here is finding someone you can actually trust, right? Let’s dive in.

Why Choose a Mobile Mechanic?

Convenience at Your Doorstep

Let’s be honest—nobody wants to sit in a garage lounge sipping bad coffee while their car gets looked at. mobile mechanics near me, whether you're at home, work, or stranded on the road.

Personalized and Transparent Service

No more guessing games about what's really wrong with your car. You get to watch the mechanic work, ask questions, and get real-time updates. It's a much more personal experience compared to traditional shops.

What Makes a Mobile Mechanic Trustworthy?

Certification and Licensing

A real pro should have ASE certification or equivalent. If they're not licensed or can’t show credentials? That’s a red flag waving in your face.

Online Reviews and Ratings

Nothing beats word of mouth in the digital age. Sites like Yelp, Google Reviews, or even Trustpilot are goldmines for honest feedback.

Warranty and Guarantees

Reliable mechanics back their work. If they can’t offer a warranty for the services they provide, you might want to keep scrolling.

Top Ways to Find a Reliable Mobile Mechanic Instantly

Use Google Search Smartly

Don’t just type “mobile mechanic near me.” Be specific! Try “ASE certified mobile mechanic open now near me” or include your location for more targeted results.

Leverage Mechanic-Specific Apps

Apps like YourMechanic, Wrench, and RepairSmith have vetting systems in place. You can compare prices, services, and ratings all in one place.

Browse Local Business Listings

Sites like Yelp, Angi, and Thumbtack let you browse verified mechanics with photos, reviews, and sometimes even quotes.

Ask in Local Facebook Groups or Online Forums

Seriously, your neighbors know best. Hop into local Facebook groups or forums like Reddit’s r/MechanicAdvice and ask for suggestions.

Best Apps and Platforms to Use

YourMechanic

One of the OG platforms. They vet all their mechanics, offer upfront pricing, and service a wide range of issues.

Wrench

Super user-friendly and available in multiple cities. Wrench even lets you track your mechanic’s ETA.

RepairSmith

Great for on-demand repairs with a network of certified professionals. Known for quick scheduling.

Honk for Emergency Assistance

This one’s ideal for breakdowns and roadside assistance, available 24/7 in many areas.

What to Ask Before Booking a Mobile Mechanic

Experience and Specializations

Ask how long they’ve been in the game and whether they specialize in your vehicle make or specific repair.

Parts and Tools Used

You want to know if they’re using OEM parts or high-quality aftermarket options. Quality matters.

Payment Terms and Invoicing

Always ask for a detailed quote and invoice. A good mechanic won’t shy away from being transparent.

Common Mobile Mechanic Services Offered

Oil Changes and Tune-ups

Quick, efficient, and done right in your driveway. No need to wait in line at a busy shop.

Brake and Battery Repairs

Many mobile mechanics are fully equipped to replace brake pads, rotors, or car batteries on the spot.

Pre-Purchase Inspections

Thinking of buying a used car? Call a mobile mechanic to check it out before you hand over the cash.

Benefits of Choosing Mobile Over Traditional Garages

Cost Savings

No overhead means lower costs. Many mobile mechanics offer more affordable rates than big auto shops.

Time Efficiency

Forget wasting half your day. The mechanic works while you’re inside doing your thing.

Emergency Help

Stranded on the road? A mobile mechanic can be your lifeline, especially if towing services take too long.

Red Flags to Watch Out For

Vague Pricing

If the mechanic dances around your pricing questions—run.

Lack of Credentials

No license, no business card, no reviews? Big nope.

No Online Presence

In 2025, not having any digital footprint is pretty sketchy. Look for someone visible and verifiable.

Tips for Keeping a Long-Term Mobile Mechanic

Build Trust Over Time

Once you find someone reliable, stick with them. Familiarity helps them work faster and smarter.

Schedule Routine Maintenance

Treat your car to regular check-ups. Your mechanic will appreciate it, and so will your vehicle.

Refer and Review

Help others by leaving a positive review or referring them to friends and family. Good mechanics deserve recognition.

Final Thoughts

Finding a trusted mobile mechanic near you doesn’t have to be a gamble. With the right tools, questions, and a little digital sleuthing, you can have a reliable pro fixing your ride right in your driveway. So next time your car acts up, skip the shop—and let the shop come to you.

FAQs

1. Are mobile mechanics cheaper than auto shops?

Usually, yes. They have less overhead, so many can offer more competitive pricing for similar quality work.

2. How long does a mobile mechanic usually take?

Depends on the job. Oil changes take 30–45 minutes, while more complex repairs may take a few hours.

3. What should I do if a mobile mechanic overcharges me?

Always ask for an itemized invoice. If you feel ripped off, leave a review and report them to consumer protection agencies.

4. Can mobile mechanics handle engine or transmission repairs?

Some can, but major repairs may still require a full-service garage. Always check the mechanic’s capabilities in advance.

5. Is it safe to let a mobile mechanic work at my home?

Yes, if they are licensed, insured, and well-reviewed. Use common sense—don't leave valuables around and verify credentials.

[airslingerseo]

Common Furnace Problems in Pinellas Park Homes

Common Furnace Problems in Pinellas Park Homes

While Florida is known for its sunny weather and warm climate, homeowners in Pinellas Park understand the importance of a properly functioning furnace—especially during the occasional cold snaps in the winter months. Even though heating systems aren’t used as heavily in Florida as in colder states, they still require maintenance and attention. When neglected, furnaces can develop issues that impact both comfort and safety.

This article explores the most common furnace problems faced by homeowners in Pinellas Park, FL, what causes them, how to recognize the signs, and when it’s time to call a professional for furnace repair.

1. Furnace Not Turning On

One of the most frequent complaints among homeowners is that the furnace simply won’t start. This can be especially frustrating during an unexpected drop in temperature.

Common Causes:

Tripped circuit breaker

Faulty thermostat

Blown fuse

Clogged air filter triggering safety shutoff

Ignition failure (for gas furnaces)

What to Do:

Check the thermostat settings first—ensure it’s on “heat” mode and set to a temperature higher than the current room temperature. Also, inspect the circuit breaker panel. If everything looks fine, it’s time to call a local HVAC technician in Pinellas Park for further diagnosis.

2. Uneven Heating or Cold Spots in the Home

Many homeowners notice certain rooms stay colder than others, even when the furnace is running.

Common Causes:

Leaky or poorly insulated ductwork

Blocked vents or registers

A furnace that’s too small for the size of the home

Dirty air filters reducing airflow

Why It Matters:

Uneven heating affects both comfort and energy efficiency. In Pinellas Park homes, where homes may vary from older structures to modern builds, proper duct design and maintenance are essential to ensure consistent warmth.

3. Furnace Blowing Cold Air

A furnace blowing cold air is a problem no one wants—especially during a chilly Florida evening.

Common Causes:

Thermostat fan set to "On" instead of "Auto"

Pilot light is out (for gas furnaces)

Dirty flame sensor

Clogged filter causing overheating and system shutdown

Local Insight:

In coastal areas like Pinellas Park, humidity and salt air can accelerate rusting of components like flame sensors and heat exchangers. Regular inspections and cleanings help prevent this.

4. Frequent Cycling On and Off (Short Cycling)

Short cycling refers to the furnace turning on and off repeatedly in short bursts rather than completing a full heating cycle.

Common Causes:

Thermostat issues or incorrect placement

Dirty air filters

Overheating due to poor airflow

Malfunctioning flame sensor or blower motor

Impact:

Short cycling can drastically reduce your furnace’s lifespan and spike your energy bills. In Pinellas Park’s mild winters, it may go unnoticed until utility bills rise unexpectedly. A local HVAC professional can determine whether it’s a mechanical problem or an airflow issue.

5. Strange Noises from the Furnace

Furnaces generally make a low hum, but if you hear banging, squealing, grinding, or rattling, it’s a red flag.

Possible Causes:

Loose or broken components

Worn-out belts

Motor bearing issues

Dirty burners or ignition issues

Safety Tip:

Unusual sounds should never be ignored. In some cases, they can be early warnings of dangerous mechanical failure or potential carbon monoxide leaks.

6. Furnace Smells Strange When Running

Odors coming from the furnace are another common complaint, especially at the start of the heating season.

Common Smells:

Dusty/Burning smell: Usually harmless and occurs the first time you turn the furnace on for the season.

Gas smell: A potential gas leak—shut the system off immediately and leave the home.

Musty smell: Could indicate mold in ducts or near the furnace.

What to Do:

For any persistent or unusual odor, especially if it resembles sulfur or gas, contact a certified furnace repair technician in Pinellas Park immediately.

7. Pilot Light or Ignition Problems

Older gas furnaces have a pilot light that can go out. Newer models use electronic ignition systems, which can also malfunction.

Causes:

Thermocouple failure

Clogged pilot orifice

Faulty electronic ignition system

Drafts or moisture from Pinellas Park's coastal environment

Why This Matters in Florida:

Humidity in Pinellas Park can corrode ignition systems or introduce moisture that interferes with flame detection. Preventative maintenance is key.

8. Dirty or Clogged Filters

This is arguably the most common and avoidable furnace issue. A dirty filter reduces airflow, leading to overheating, poor performance, and potential damage.

How Often to Replace:

In Florida, filters should typically be checked every 1-2 months—more frequently if you have pets, allergies, or live near the beach where dust and debris are more prevalent.

9. High Energy Bills

An inefficient or malfunctioning furnace can lead to unusually high utility costs, even with mild usage.

Common Culprits:

Poor airflow due to dirty filters

Failing components like motors or heat exchangers

Leaky ductwork

Inconsistent thermostat readings

Local Note:

Florida’s energy costs can fluctuate, so it’s wise to track your heating expenses year over year to spot irregularities that could indicate furnace inefficiencies.

10. Lack of Regular Maintenance

Most furnace issues in Pinellas Park homes can be prevented with routine service. Because heating is not used as frequently in Florida, many homeowners skip annual checkups—leading to unexpected breakdowns and expensive repairs.

Benefits of Regular Maintenance:

Improved energy efficiency

Extended system lifespan

Early detection of small problems

Better air quality

Peace of mind during the cold season

Final Thoughts: Stay Warm and Safe in Pinellas Park

Even in Florida’s warmer climate, your furnace plays a key role in home comfort and indoor air quality. Understanding these common furnace problems in Pinellas Park homes can help you spot issues early and know when to seek professional help.

If your furnace is acting up or hasn’t been serviced in over a year, it’s time to schedule a professional inspection. Investing in timely furnace repair in Pinellas Park, FL ensures your home stays warm, safe, and energy-efficient—no matter the weather.

PH.:- +17278153334

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[amazinghomes001]

How to Spot Quality Work at an Auto Body Shop: Tips for Car Owners

When your vehicle needs repairs after an accident or even a minor dent, choosing the right auto body shop can make all the difference in both appearance and safety. Not all shops offer the same level of craftsmanship, and being able to spot high-quality work ensures your investment is well-protected.

The first sign of a quality auto body repair shop is the attention to detail in their finish. Look closely at the paint job. A reputable professional auto painting service will offer a seamless match to your car’s original color, with no signs of overspray, uneven coating, or rough textures. Quality paint jobs require both skilled technicians and high-grade materials—cut corners here often lead to early chipping, fading, or oxidation.

Another strong indicator is how well the panels align. After a collision, even minor misalignment can affect aerodynamics and door sealing. A trusted collision repair near me service will ensure that all gaps are even, panels are flush, and doors or hoods open and close smoothly. Misaligned body parts often signal rushed or imprecise work.

For those considering paintless dent repair, ensure the shop has certified technicians and uses specialized tools. True paintless techniques restore the body’s shape without damaging the paint, which not only saves time but also preserves the vehicle’s original finish. If you see evidence of sanding or filler on a job labeled "paintless," that’s a red flag.

Customer transparency is another hallmark of a reputable auto body repair shop. Shops that provide written estimates, detailed explanations of services, and updates throughout the process tend to be more trustworthy. If they’re vague about the timeline, the methods used, or the parts being installed, it’s worth seeking a second opinion.

Cleanliness and organization in the workshop also matter. A clean and well-lit facility reflects the professionalism of the team. If the shop looks neglected or cluttered, it could indicate a lack of discipline in their work habits as well.

Finally, check whether the shop uses OEM (Original Equipment Manufacturer) parts, especially for major repairs. Using high-quality parts ensures that your vehicle remains structurally sound and performs as expected after repairs. Some affordable auto body shops might use aftermarket or recycled parts—make sure to ask what will be installed before giving the go-ahead.

Choosing an auto body shop is not just about cost—it’s about quality, safety, and long-term value. If you're searching for the best auto body repair or a full-service auto body shop, knowing these signs can save you from a subpar experience and ensure your vehicle looks and drives the way it should.

[city-auto-sales-hawaii]

How to Spot a Great Deal on a Used Truck in Honolulu

Let’s be honest. Finding a reliable truck in Hawaii can feel like hunting for shade on a hot day. You want muscle not rust. You want a good price not a headache. On Oahu trucks do real work. Whether you’re hauling gear out to the west side helping aunty move or just driving something with power under the hood you need something solid. And smart buyers know exactly where to look when it’s time to score a deal that makes sense. That’s why more locals head to City Auto Sales Hawaii when they want legit used cars for sale that are tough clean and ready to roll.

Start with the Frame Not the Flash

A shiny truck might catch your eye but that doesn’t mean it’s the right one. What you really want to check is underneath. Look for rust frame damage suspension issues or weird leaks. Ask questions. Get on your knees. This is Hawaii after all and salt air doesn’t play nice with cheap metal.

City Auto Sales Hawaii always inspects every truck that hits the lot. No rushed cleanups. No shady patch jobs. Just honest cars for sale in Honolulu that pass real tests before they’re offered to you.

Ask for the Story Behind the Truck

Good trucks have stories. Where was it driven? What was it used for? Who owned it before? Smart buyers know the value of that backstory. That’s what separates a gem from a junker.

At City Auto Sales Hawaii they’ll break it down for you without hiding behind fast talk. You want a truck for work? For off-roading? For family road trips with a cooler in the back? They'll help you match your budget with your goals.

Look for Local-Proof Features

Island roads need tough suspension. Salt in the air means you better check that undercarriage. And with narrow spots everywhere from Liliha to Haleiwa you’ll want something that’s not a nightmare to park.

Whether it’s 4x4 power or towing capacity or even bed size details matter. Trucks here need more than just looks. That’s why used cars for sale at this shop are picked to survive local life.

Check the Numbers Not Just the Paint

You want fair pricing without being tricked. Don’t just look at the sticker. Compare miles age accident records past usage and how the interior looks. Some trucks look great but run like a shopping cart.

This is where being tied to an in-house Auto Repair Shop changes the game. Unlike other dealers who sell and disappear this crew fixes what they sell. They’re also your backup if anything comes up after the sale. No searching for a mechanic near me or trying to figure out where to get your brakes checked. You’re already covered.

Avoid Trucks Without a Backup Plan

What happens when something goes wrong later? Do you know a good shop? Can you trust someone nearby? These are deal breakers if you’re buying blind.

This is why locals trust City Auto Sales Hawaii. Because they’ve got a trusted Auto Repair setup where you can handle anything from oil changes to engine issues without typing “car repair near me” in a panic.

They’ve helped tons of drivers who once searched repair shop near me and ended up coming back again and again.

Don’t Get Pressured to Rush

If someone’s pushing you to buy now before the deal “vanishes” that’s a red flag. Trucks are investments. You should be free to test it sit in it think about it. That’s the way City Auto Sales Hawaii does business. No pressure. Just info support and smart deals.

Why Choose Us

We Sell What We’d Drive Ourselves Our crew hand-picks every truck with care. We know which models hold up and which ones break too soon. You’re only getting the good stuff.

One Roof for Everything No need to hop between lots and garages. We sell trucks and also run an Auto Repair Shop so you’re supported every step.

We Listen First Sell Later You won’t be forced into anything weird. We ask what you need what you can spend and how you’ll use the truck. Then we find matches.

Certified Wrench Pros Right Here Need a fix later? We’ve got in-house mechanics who handle full car servicing near me without long waits or mystery pricing.

Fair Prices Honest Deals We don’t inflate or sneak in fees. What you see is what you get. It’s what makes us a favorite used car dealer on Oahu.

Island Roots Island Knowledge We live here too. We understand what your truck will go through out here so we prep every sale with local experience in mind.

Frequently Asked Questions

Do you have diesel trucks available? Yes sometimes. Our stock changes often so it’s best to call or stop by. We carry work-ready trucks from Ford RAM Chevy and more.

Can I get my trade-in valued on the spot? Absolutely. Bring it down. We’ll inspect it right then and give you a real offer. No waiting around for call-backs.

What if I need repairs later? Our in-house team handles everything. No more searching “car repair shops near me” and hoping for the best. We’ve got your back.

Are your trucks certified or inspected? All trucks go through deep inspections. If something’s off we fix it before it goes on the lot. Our Auto Repair team checks every detail.

Do you offer financing? Yes we do. Whether your credit’s great rough or rebuilding we’ll try to find something that helps you drive out without stress.

What if I want an SUV instead? You’re in luck. We also carry a big mix of used SUV for sale in Honolulu so if a truck’s not your thing we’ve got other options.

Contact Us

City Auto Sales Hawaii 📍 609 Ahua St, Honolulu, HI 96819, United States 📞 +1 (808) 888-2076

Looking for trustworthy trucks or reliable car repair near me from people who don’t play games? Come down to City Auto Sales Hawaii. Whether you're ready to buy or just doing your homework we’ll give you the info without pressure.

Let’s find your perfect ride today.

[techaipost]

7 Common Mistakes People Make With Their Android & iOS Devices (And how to avoid them)

Our smartphones are packed with advanced technology, but that doesn’t make them invincible. In fact, the way you use your device every day could be quietly shortening its lifespan, reducing performance, and exposing your data to serious risks.

From bad charging habits to ignoring updates, these mistakes are more common than you think — but the good news is they’re easy to fix.

Let’s explore seven smartphone habits that could be doing more harm than good — and how to protect your device like a pro.

Ignoring Software and Security Updates

Skipping system and app updates may save a few minutes, but it puts your phone at risk. Updates don’t just add new features — they patch security vulnerabilities and fix bugs that could slow your device down or expose your data.

Enable automatic updates for your operating system and apps.

Manually check once a month for missed updates.

Always restart your phone after installing updates to ensure everything works properly.

Before major OS updates, back up your phone using Google Drive, iCloud, or a computer to prevent data loss if anything goes wrong.

Letting the Battery Drain to 0% (or Charging to 100% All the Time)

Constantly draining your battery to 0% or charging to 100% can reduce your battery’s health over time. Lithium-ion batteries degrade faster when pushed to extremes.

Try to keep your battery level between 20% and 80%.

Enable features like “Optimized Battery Charging” to slow charging near 100%.

Avoid overnight charging if your phone doesn’t manage battery health automatically.

Use slow or standard-speed charging when you’re not in a hurry — fast charging is convenient but can slightly raise heat levels, which wears down the battery.

Downloading Apps from Untrusted Sources

Installing apps from shady websites or unofficial app stores can expose your phone to malware, spyware, and ransomware — all of which can steal your data or damage your system.

Only install apps from the Google Play Store (Android) or Apple App Store (iOS).

Avoid sideloading apps unless you’re 100% sure they’re safe.

Check app permissions — apps asking for unnecessary access could be a red flag.

Use mobile antivirus tools or enable Google Play Protect to automatically scan apps for malicious behavior.

Using Your Phone Without a Case or Screen Protector

One accidental drop is all it takes to crack your screen or damage the camera lens — and repairs can be expensive. Going “naked” with your phone is a risky move.

Get a shock-absorbing case with raised edges to protect your phone from drops.

Apply a tempered glass screen protector to guard against scratches and cracks.

If you’re outdoors often, use a waterproof case or pouch for extra protection.

Make it a habit to clean under your case occasionally — trapped dust and debris can scratch your phone’s surface over time.

Using Public Wi-Fi Without Protection

Connecting to unsecured public Wi-Fi (like in cafés, airports, or hotels) without proper precautions can expose your sensitive data to hackers and snoopers.

Use a VPN (Virtual Private Network) when accessing public Wi-Fi.

Avoid logging into banking apps or entering passwords on untrusted networks.

Disable auto-connect to public Wi-Fi in your settings.

Set your phone to ask before joining new Wi-Fi networks. This gives you control and avoids automatically connecting to unsafe hotspots.

Filling Your Phone with Unnecessary Apps and Files

When your phone is cluttered with too many apps, photos, and downloads, it can slow down performance, reduce available storage, and even cause apps to crash.

Regularly delete apps you don’t use.

Transfer photos and videos to cloud services like Google Photos, OneDrive, or iCloud.

Clean up download folders and browser caches monthly.

Enable storage optimization settings — on Android, look for “Smart Storage,” and on iOS, enable “Offload Unused Apps.”

Using the Wrong Charger

Using cheap or incompatible chargers can damage your phone’s battery or even cause short circuits. Not all cables and chargers are created equal.

Stick with your phone’s original charger or a certified third-party brand (like Anker, Belkin, or Aukey).

Avoid using random charging ports or unknown charging stations in public places.

If you use wireless chargers, make sure they meet your phone manufacturer’s standards to avoid slow or unsafe charging.

Source: https://www.techaipost.com/common-smartphone-mistakes/

[partstoredubai]

Ranger Rover Parts: 2025 Dubai Buyer’s Guide to Quality Range Rover Auto Parts

Owning a Range Rover in Dubai means commanding both the city’s polished highways and the rugged desert outskirts. That versatility is why the brand is iconic—but it also means more wear and tear than a typical SUV. When something fails, you’ll want range rover auto parts that fit perfectly, arrive quickly, and keep resale value high. This concise 1 000-word guide shows how to find trustworthy suppliers, compare prices, and avoid counterfeits—so the next time you search range rover parts near me, you already know where to click.

1. Know Your Part Types Before You Buy

CategoryWhat It MeansBest Use CaseTypical Price (AED)OEMFactory-authentic, branded by Jaguar-Land RoverUnder-warranty or high-end models100 % baselinePremium AftermarketBuilt to OEM spec by certified manufacturersOut-of-warranty daily drivers70 – 85 %RemanufacturedRebuilt with upgraded seals, bearings, electronicsEngines, gearboxes, turbos60 – 75 %Used / SalvagePulled from written-off vehicles, testedBody panels, interior trim30 – 50 %

Tip: Safety-critical items—brake rotors, air-suspension struts—should remain OEM. Save money on cosmetic trim with reman or salvage.

2. Dubai’s Parts Ecosystem in 2025

Authorised Dealers

Pros: Full warranty, software updates, factory technicians.

Cons: Highest prices; older model parts might require UK back-orders.

Specialist Garages & Range Rover Parts Shops

Staffed by ex-dealer mechanics who import range rover parts in bulk.

Average 20 % cheaper than dealer quotes and often faster on labor.

Online Marketplaces

AI VIN-match tools, genuine-only filters, and same-day delivery across Dubai.

Always check that the store issues VAT invoices and has >4-star reviews.

Auto-Parts Souqs (Al Ras & Sharjah Industrial)

Ideal for discontinued items or classic Defenders.

Inspect every range rover auto part carefully—no warranty after you walk away.

3. Trending Technologies You’ll See in 2025

Micro-Fulfillment Warehouses: 90-minute delivery windows from Al Quoz hubs.

Telediagnostic Ordering: Bluetooth OBD readers send fault codes to a supplier who pre-packages the exact pieces you need.

Predictive Stocking Algorithms: Suppliers pre-order common failure parts—thermostats, suspension bushes—based on weather and sales data.

Subscription Maintenance Kits: Quarterly boxes with filters, wiper blades, and fluids tailored to your mileage.

4. Price Check: What to Expect

PartOEM Price RangePremium AftermarketKey NotesFront brake pads & rotors950 – 1 200650 – 900Choose ceramic pads for less dustAir-suspension bag (each)1 400 – 1 800900 – 1 200Replace in axle pairsWater pump (V8)1 200 – 1 500750 – 950Aluminum impellers resist Dubai heatRadiator & hoses1 600 – 2 1001 100 – 1 400Opt for high-flow cores if towingLED headlamp unit3 800 – 4 400N/AStick to OEM to avoid CAN-bus errors

Watch for Ramadan, Eid, and National Day promotions—online range rover parts shops often bundle free installation vouchers or 0 % installment plans.

5. Red Flags: Spotting Counterfeits

Price >50 % Below Dealer: Too cheap is always suspect.

Packaging Typos: Misspellings or dull print on the box.

Missing QR/Hologram: Genuine units carry scannable security seals.

No VAT Invoice: Legit businesses are happy to comply with UAE tax law.

Weight & Finish: Counterfeit castings feel light, and plastic clips may be brittle.

If in doubt, ask the vendor to send a close-up video—real dealers accommodate remote inspections easily.

6. DIY vs Professional Installation

DIY-Friendly

Cabin and air filters

Spark plugs (if you have the right socket set)

Engine oil change with proper ramps

Wiper blades and brake fluid top-ups

Shop-Only

Air-suspension modules (need calibration)

Timing chain and tensioners

Differential oil seals

Any repair requiring Jaguar Land Rover SDD diagnostics software

Remember, incorrect install voids warranties and may trigger dash lights that only a dealer can clear.

7. Maintenance Calendar for Dubai Conditions

Mileage (km)Must-Do Service ItemsClimate Insight15 000Engine oil, cabin filterDusty air clogs filters fast30 000ATF (if heavy towing), brake padsUse DOT 4 rated 50 °C+60 000Coolant, spark plugsSchedule before peak summer90 000Diff & transfer case oilsHot desert dunes stress driveline120 000Water pump, belts, suspension bushesPolyurethane bushes resist heat better

Stay proactive—search range rover parts near me and pre-order wear items ahead of big trips to Hatta or Liwa.

8. FAQs

Q: Are premium aftermarket parts reliable? A: Yes—if ISO 9001-certified and manufactured for EU or GCC markets.

Q: Can I import parts myself? A: You can, but factor 5 % customs duty and potential return costs. Local supply is often cheaper in the end.

Q: Do aftermarket mods void warranty? A: Powertrain mods likely will. Cosmetic or brake upgrades typically won’t—but keep receipts for proof of quality.

Q: Why are some parts VIN-locked? A: Electronics tied to your car’s ECUs need dealer-level coding to activate, preventing theft and counterfeit installs.

Partstore — Your Fast Lane to Genuine Range Rover Parts

Partstore’s Dubai warehouse holds the region’s largest stock of OEM and premium range rover parts ready for same-day delivery. Our AI-powered VIN matcher eliminates guesswork, while every purchase comes with a 12-month warranty and a VAT invoice for your records. Whether you need a single sensor or a complete air-suspension kit, Partstore delivers speed, transparency, and value—so you spend less time searching for a range rover parts shop and more time enjoying the drive. Visit Partstore.ae today and keep your Range Rover running like new!