#spark plug for bikes

[ktmsportslove]

https://www.scribd.com/presentation/774781601/Spark-Plug-for-Bike

This presentation provides an in-depth look into the role of NGK spark plugs in enhancing the performance of 2-3 wheeler vehicles, including motorcycles, scooters, and auto-rickshaws. It explains how spark plugs work as essential devices that ignite the fuel-air mixture in engines, ensuring optimal combustion and power delivery. Through a detailed exploration of NGK’s high-quality spark plug range, the presentation highlights the importance of using the correct spark plug to maximize fuel efficiency, engine longevity, and overall vehicle performance. The 2-3 wheeler application chart is also introduced, showing how to match specific NGK spark plugs to various two-wheeler models for precision and reliability.

[boanerges20]

Art: Iconic Garage

[whatudottu]

Bare with me, I've got an idea that combines TFP Shockwave's invention of the cortical psychic patch, what motivation a Shattered Glass Shockwave might have made it, plus more broad cybertronian biology headcanons and how it lead to the invention of the cortical psychic patch in the first place-

Um... let's go!

To start, let's go in reverse order by talking cybertronian biology, or more specifically the more wire based functions of a more literal less sex version of interface panels. Because cybertronians are biomechanical aliens who's only method of 'reproduction' canonically (in most series) is through being birthed by the planet itself - on hold while Primus and Cybertron are dead - when I say 'interface panels' I mean panels housing plugs and ports that are typically there for medical stuff and otherwise data transfers or for use in hardware depending on the individual. The number of panels is relatively consistent and the number of in/out connections depends on the size of the bot (more for larger frames, less for smaller) and are kinda paired to whatever systems they are nearest location wise; two on either side of the hips or one each at the top of the legs, two on either side of the chest or one each at the top of the arms.

Depending on the location you can read the diagnostics of that part of the frame in more detail than if you tried investigating the same part in an entirely different panel; you're gonna get a more accurate read on damages to the left arm in the left arm panels then you are on the right leg. And for particular frames, the interface panels are used to control objects using the relevant limb or part - like a robotic arm to lift things heavier than your frame can handle - and probably even to have your frame be used AS a limb; combiner limbs would connect to whoever's the main body and interface with the relevant limb panel.

But there are panels that are explicitly medical use only, that being internal panels adjunct to the sparkchamber as well as another for specific monitoring of a cybertronian's organs, and paneling at the back of the helm or where it meets the neck for the processor and all the delicate software it holds. Bots with medical programing like Ratchet can interface with those panels directly in the event of a lack of resources (AKA the entirety of Transformers: Prime), and in fact the panel along the sparkchamber would be the easiest way to get a general systems check on a patient. Mecha like Knock Out who may or may not have actual history with being a medical doctor probably would have a harder time directly interfacing with the more delicate sparkchamber, organ, and processor panels, but he and Ratchet (and other bots with even the vaguest sense of medical training) can set up a line running to a monitor or sparkreader or any other medical hardware to fully take in a data analysis, even if it means more resources are used or that vulnerabilities could be introduced.

To the processor panel, much like brain surgery you kinda need a signal in the first place in order to get a read on it's damages, hardware or software. A spark read can let you know if the body is alive and all the damages that IT can diagnose for a general check, but operating on an offline or barely awake processor can lead to issues that you may not even be aware of at the time of procedure. It's why a direct connection (with appropriate medical coding) is better for processor diagnosis as the hardware bypass might have a signal delay between patient and doctor.

And here's where the cortical psychic patch comes in.

When Megan was otherwise comatose, the cortical psychic patch was able to allow access into his processor that had been percolating with activity (one described by Knock Out to be like 'a dream he may never wake from'), and though far from being an actual medical use of the patch it did allow for a non-medical bot to access the processor of a very much comatose patient. It was even Ratchet himself - resident medic of the Autobots - that knew how to create the patch even if it was banned for Autobot use.

Keeping in this reverse order, perhaps a SG Shockwave had invented the cortical psychic patch for an intended medical use, a tool meant for mecha who may not have been forged nor coded to BE medics but have enough training to be such (typically self-taught in the early stages of revolution, then mentored by forged medics when the war really picked up speed) in order to allow direct access to the processor interface panel. The design of it would be - rather than a plug that just magnetically sticks on to the back of a cybertronian's head - would be a series of plugs and ports of mostly universal design, adjustable to a degree for multiple frames, allowing the medic irrespective of coding to have full access to diagnose what the fuck is up with the processor.

Unfortuneately for SG Shockers (and fully intentional by TFP Shockwave) the patch isn't quite as synonymous as the medic's coding is to processor interfacing, being rather invasive of a connection even as it is, let alone the patch being more of a hardware connection which in of itself introduces vulnerabilities. Heck, it's not even safe for the operator themselves to use the patch, seeing as how Bumblebee got a head full of Megan; I mean, Bumblebee isn't a trained medic, but the fact that it happened at all is evidence to it's flaws. And that's to a patient who isn't of mind enough to struggle, Shockwave himself says that resisting the patch may cause damage to the patient/subject, combine that with the second option of 'let it happen and let them walk unabated in your head' and you're pretty much shit out of luck.

The base Shockwave would most certainly be fully aware of the intent, a direct hardline to an individual's processor is most definitely a connection to some very vulnerable software and thus information, the cortical psychic patch probably battling a lot of firewalls off with the ease of a medical interface. And in the base TFP universe, Autobots with only recent war-based medical training as opposed to previous education probably early on DID resort to using the patch as a crutch, Ratchet after all knew how to make one. It's probably a combination of Shockwave's brutal interrogation method USING the cortical psychic patch and the relatively inexperienced Autobot medics opting to use direct processor interface rather than the comparably safer hardware bypass that lead to it's banned status in the Autobot ranks, too many 'Bots were having trauma responses at the hands of young medic's servo's who didn't know any better and actively resisting the patch, which just so happened to lead to more Autobot casualties and thus probably shellshocking the medics in training to get them to fear the daunting prospect of actually losing a patient by THEIR OWN hands.

It's one thing to be using a tool made by someone who has been known to do lots of dubious shit, it's another to see a tool that you made to help be manipulated into an interrogation technique, made all the worse now that you have significantly more emotional capacity to not only feel guilty but feel solely responsible for the patch induced trauma of your own allies; the cortical psychic patch was banned by the Shattered Glass Decepticons for about similar reasons, but it's near worse for a lot of medics (even the experienced ones) had been relying on it solely for the fact that they weren't forged with the coding. The stagnated use of the cortical psychic patch in the base verse was mostly because Shockwave himself had been the inventor of it and main user of the patch, the Autobots avoiding it's use for the ban and the Decepticons not very experienced with the tool. In Shattered Glass however, the only real limit to it's perpetuity would be if the Autobots managed to learn how to create the patch at all, which if even in the base verse Ratchet knew how to make one, probably means that there's more than enough patch use in SG even if Shockwave gets caught in a spacebridge explosion or not.

And that's that I think- funny to talk about interface panels in a transformers post without doing it in a sex way haha- I just want these guys to be alien 😫

[nuclearmedicinetherapy]

Upgrade to Iridium Spark Plugs for unmatched ignition performance, faster starts, improved fuel efficiency, and longer lifespan. Ideal for modern engines, these spark plugs deliver superior combustion, smoother acceleration, and reliable power every ride.

[spookypete-94]

Biker!Simon

Thinking of Biker!Simon picking you up from work because your car won't convinently stay running.

(A few of your spark plugs may be in his pocket, but minor details)

Thinking how Biker!Simon has to ride an actual cruiser of a motorcycle because he's such a big man for anything else. Watching him pull up to your work place, hands and arms high from the high bars.

Thinking how your breath catches seeing his large arms and legs hold up the bike, his ink flexing on his skin showing his muscles at work.

Thinking how Biker!Simon hands you a helmet he brought along because you know... Safety first. When you asked for a ride, this isn't honestly what you expected. But beggars can't be choosers at this rate.

Thinking how Biker!Simon puts your items in his saddle bags before getting on and straddling the bike. No. No you weren't just gawking at him, come on now, get a grip.

Thinking how Biker!Simon knows you're having a bad day, stressing about your car not starting. How he feels your hands resting between you both on the bike, in the sweatshirt you were wearing. He wants you to focus on the ride, not the easy fix that's already hanging around in his pocket. Thinking how Biker!Simon turns and squeezes the throttle making you jolt into him and quickly wrap your arms around him in surprise.

"What the fuck??" You asked startled not sure what else to say.

To which Biker!Simon rumbles his signature chuckle and answers. "Just wanted a hug."

Simon "Ghost" Riley Masterlist

[inky-writing]

Carlisle Cullen x Reader

Warnings: animal attacks, bad parenting (lol), stalking, it is short, typos maybe?, i think that's all...

Word count: 1,593

Book II - Chapter 5: From the Shadows

Mid-January in Forks was as dreary as ever. The constant drizzle coated the roads and rooftops, but for the Swan household, there was some change. Bella had begun to rejoin the world, step by step. The last days of December had been filled with warmth, Charlie and Y/N doing their best to pull Bella out of her room for New Year’s Eve celebrations. And to everyone’s relief, Bella had made the effort to join them, sitting quietly but present as they watched the countdown on TV and shared a toast of champagne.

Now, two weeks into the new year, the signs of her slow recovery were becoming more evident. Bella spoke more, even if it was still mostly short sentences. She ate meals with Charlie and Y/N more regularly and even initiated conversations. The most significant change came when she approached Y/N one morning.

“I found bikes to repair,” Bella said, her voice quiet. “I think fixing them up could be... good.”

“For you, or for the bikes?” Y/N teased, arching an eyebrow.

“For both,” Bella replied, managing a faint smile. “Do you want to come with me to Jacob’s?”

Y/N didn’t hesitate. “Of course.”

That afternoon, Y/N and Bella drove to Jacob Black’s house in La Push, three rusted motorbikes strapped into the bed of Bella's old truck. The later seemed nervous, fidgeting with the wheel as they pulled into the driveway, but Y/N could tell there was excitement mixed with her hesitation.

Jacob greeted them with a wide grin, his enthusiasm practically radiating. “Bells! Y/N! Where the hell have you been locas?!”

Together, they unloaded the bikes, Jacob already launching into an assessment of what needed to be fixed. “The engines are shot,” he said, squatting next to one of the bikes and peering at the rusted metal. “But the frames are solid. We’ll need new spark plugs, brake cables, and probably a ton of grease, but we can make these beauties rideable again.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Y/N said, crossing her arms and smirking.

Jacob grinned. “It’s easy if you know what you’re doing. You’ll see.”

As the three of them worked, the atmosphere became lighter, filled with the sounds of tools clinking and Jacob’s animated explanations of every repair. For the first time in months, Bella seemed at ease, her laughter mixing with Y/N’s as they joked about their lack of mechanical skills.

It wasn’t long before Quil and Embry showed up.

“Hey guys! This is Bella and Y/N Swan. I told you about them.” said Jacob. The two boys quickly greeting them both before turning to Bella. “Sooo... You're really his girlfriend?” said Quil, lightly laughing.

“Humm, we're just... friends.” responded Bella, feeling a little uneasy.

Jacob rolled his eyes. “She’s not my girlfriend, Quil. She’s a girl, and she’s my friend.”

Y/N burst out laughing at the exchange, covering her mouth to keep from snorting. Bella turned red but managed a small smile.

Quil smirked. “A girl and a friend, huh? Subtle difference there.”

Embry snickered, nudging Quil. That's when jacob began talking again. “Not that you’d know, seeing as you had to take your cousin to the last dance.”

Embry grinned, seizing the opportunity to pile on. “Yeah, Quil, how’d that go? Did she step on your toes, or did you step on hers?”

“She’s a great dancer!” Quil protested, though his flushed cheeks betrayed him.

Y/N shook her head, laughing along with the others. The banter was infectious, and for a moment, it felt like everything was normal. Even Bella was smiling openly, her posture more relaxed than Y/N had seen in weeks.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm glow over the garage, Y/N realized how much she had missed this, being surrounded by laughter and light-hearted teasing. It wasn’t just Bella who needed this afternoon, she did too.

When they finally packed up and said their goodbyes, Bella seemed lighter, her mood noticeably improved. Y/N couldn’t help but glance at her cousin and think that maybe, just maybe, things were starting to turn around.

January 19th, 2006

The cafeteria buzzed with the usual chatter, but today, a particular topic dominated the conversation at Forks High School: the strange attacks happening around town. As Bella approached the table, she hesitated for a moment, taking in the lively conversation among Jessica, Angela, and a few others.

“I’m telling you, I saw a bear,” Angela insisted, her voice firm. “It was huge, and it was near the trailhead by the cliffs.”

Jessica snorted, rolling her eyes. “Come on, Angela. A bear? In Forks? We’d know about it by now.”

“Charlie’s gotten calls about bears,” Bella interjected, sliding into her seat. Her voice was quiet but carried enough conviction to make Angela sit up straighter. “It’s not impossible.”

“That’s so creepy,” Jessica said, her dramatic flair kicking in. “I mean, what if it’s not a bear but, like, a mountain lion? Or something else?”

Angela gave her a withering look. “It wasn’t a mountain lion. I know what I saw.”

As the debate continued, Y/N sat at the end of the table, her earplugs in, listening to Fleetwood Mac, and her attention on the article she was finishing for the school newspaper. She had joined the journal at the start of her senior year, mostly as a way to channel her thoughts and keep herself busy. Right now, the paper was her priority, not bear sightings.

She was vaguely aware of the conversation swirling around her, catching snippets between the lyrics of her music, but she focused on polishing her piece, tuning out the back-and-forth.

Later that evening, after dropping Bella off at home, Y/N sighed as she turned into the driveway. Charlie’s cruiser wasn’t there, a clear sign that he was on one of his many overnight shifts.

When she stepped into the house, the empty fridge confirmed what she had already guessed: Charlie hadn’t had time to shop. It wasn’t surprising, given the increasing pressure he was under with all the reported attacks in the area.

Y/N headed back out, deciding to make a quick run to the supermarket. She made a mental list as she drove, adding cat food to it. The black cat that had mysteriously attached itself to her was now a permanent resident in the house. Charlie hadn’t objected to her keeping it, as long as she promised to take care of it.

The fluorescent lights of the supermarket hummed faintly as Y/N wandered the aisles, tossing essentials into her cart. She scanned the shelves with practiced ease, though her mind was elsewhere, on school, on Bella, on the strange changes she had been experiencing.

She reached the pet aisle and grabbed a bag of cat food, smiling to herself at the thought of her newfound companion. The cat had been a surprising source of comfort, its constant presence grounding her somehow.

As she moved to the checkout, a strange feeling crept over her, a prickling sensation at the back of her neck, as if someone was watching her. She glanced over her shoulder, but the aisle behind her was empty.

Shaking her head, she told herself she was imagining things. She had been on edge lately, her heightened senses and the strange occurrences around her making her more paranoid than usual.

Still, the feeling didn’t leave. As she pushed her cart toward the exit, she resisted the urge to look over her shoulder again, gripping the handle tighter.

Carlisle’s pov

Carlisle sat in his rental car, parked in the far corner of the supermarket lot, watching as Y/N emerged from the store. Her familiar forest green Jeep was parked a few spaces away, unmistakable.

He shouldn’t have come back to Forks, but something had pulled him here. The feeling had been relentless, gnawing at him since that night in december. He told himself it was because of his family’s abrupt departure and the consequences it had left behind. But deep down, he knew that wasn’t the truth.

It was her. Y/N.

Seeing her now, even from a distance, filled him with an ache he couldn’t comprehend. She looked different. He noticed she had cut her hair and was now wearing that strange necklace. It reminded him of something, but he didn’t know what exactly.

He hadn’t planned to approach her. He just wanted to see her, to confirm she was safe and well. But as she paused at the checkout line, he felt a pang of longing so strong it almost made him step out of the car.

Instead, he stayed where he was, gripping the steering wheel and fighting the urge to go to her.

She paused in the parking lot, looking around briefly before climbing into her car. Carlisle exhaled, relief and guilt mingling in his chest. He had no right to be here, to watch her like this. And yet, he couldn’t seem to stay away.

As her car pulled out of the lot, he sat in silence, staring after her until the red glow of her taillights disappeared into the night.

Notes: I AM SO SORRY IT IS SO BAD!!! I had really little time, so consider it a 'transition chapter' :'(

Tag list: @inky-bonnie @irelanrose @i-cant-pick-an-aesthetic09 @wandererthemadhatter

[atarathegreat]

Angry-Chiro Shinichiro Sano

Nestled down a dark, wide alleyway between two much larger buildings was SS Motors. A squat little mechanics shop where you could buy spark plugs, gas caps, and tools on the shelves, and in the back was the garage. The garage was a little smaller than the whole building, big enough to fit a car while still having enough room for the mechanic to shift how he needed.

Shinichiro Sano took tremendous pride in his little shop, even had dreams that it would be bigger and placed in a more accessible space in the city. Fixing things was his passion, ripping out the bad parts or, in his current case, gutting a whole bike frame, was also part of the fun. Normally.

"Mother-" The sounds of ricocheting tools echoed up to the shop where you were helping customers. Steel on concrete or bouncing off the other metal work tables made you cringe as you hurled excuses again and again at Shinichiro's expense.

"Our mechanic is currently indisposed." You were all kind smiles and soft words when people were asking for him. They would sigh and nod and leave names and numbers, all while hearing the temper tantrum from the back of the shop. It wasn't new and many of the patrons were ignoring it for the most part, but you still worried about Shinichiro and the temper you knew he was capable of having.

While the rest of the shoppers were busy, not that there were many in such a secluded shop, you snuck back to the garage and peeked in. Shinichiro was fixing the bike frame back on a stand, leaving you to assume that maybe he'd gotten pissed enough to kick it over. "Shini?" The sound of your voice was enough to make him take a deep breath and look over his shoulder. He looked tired, his dark eyes not even really looking at you, "It...the bike...bolts..." Shinichiro was so mad he could hardly form a coherent sentence as he waved both arms at the frame, and that was fine, you were used to piecing together the issues. "It's alright. Steady hands, remember? Take it slow." Another soft smile and a little wave as you returned back to the front counter.

Closing early was surely going to set Shinichiro off even more, if he ever came out of the garage, but you closed early despite that. It wasn't good for business if the manager slash mechanic slash owner was seen as an angry man who couldn't keep tools from becoming an airborne item. Wrenches weren't meant to be birds and bolts definitely weren't rain drops.

"Son of a bitch!"

You sat up in bed, rubbing quickly at your eyes as more clanging woke you from a short nap. It was dark and your eyes hadn't yet cleared enough for you to see the bright red lines on the alarm clock. Moonlight almost kept you from tripping over the pile of shoes, your stumble becoming a valuable reminder that you would, eventually, have to buy a shoe rack. Cold air hit you quickly as you stepped from the mini living quarter and you reached back in to grab a coat before heading back out to trudge through the shop and to the garage. It got colder the closer you got.

"Shinichiro?"

The man turned quickly, a glare set in his features, as if a sculptor had snuck in and using clay and water to fix his beautiful smile into a scowl. "It's freezing, darling, come inside." You crossed the coat over itself to pull it tighter in hopes to keep some semblance of warmth for your skin.

"Can't. This stupid fucking thing isn't working with me and now this bolt won't even line up correctly." He slammed a wrench to the ground, glaring at the gas tank he was trying to connect to the newly cleaned bike frame. "To top it off, the rust took me nearly all day to get off and I can't even track down the right kind of seat for it!" Shinichiro huffed, leaning back against the toolbox, "How am I supposed to fix this by my deadline?"

Tools and dirty rags covered the garage floor as you stepped around and over them and bigger parts, crouching next to him, "How about I hold the tank steady and you secure it, and then we go in so you can get a drink, eat dinner, then we'll go to bed?"

Shinichiro shook his head, wiping a rag at the frame as if he was doing something, though he knew he just wanted to look busy, "I set a deadline for myself, Y/n, I want, need, this damn thing to be on the streets come spring." He always reached the goals he set for himself, so you knew it would kill him for yet another deadline with this particular bike to be pushed back.

It already wasn't a promise that he would've found the frame in Puerto Rico, and then the airlines tried to run you both around in circles over the metal until you went in and dragged it out by yourself. And then all the parts up to this point had to be ordered and the deliveries were delayed due to the winter weather, further ruining Shinichiro's plans. He stayed up night after night just to get a little bit further along in the process, all while neglecting his bodies needs for food, water and sleep. Being cooped up in the cold, horribly lit garage wasn't good for him. He looked gaunt and exhausted.

A heavy sigh fell from his lips, getting trapped somewhere between the rusty trashed parts and pile of boxes filled with new parts that had yet to be used. "I can't let it sit for a long time, I'll never get back to it." His bones spoke loudly as he stood and stretched, each pop was another cry for rest.

"You'll return to it, Shini." A weight was lifted from his shoulders when you smiled like that, like you believed in every move he made and every decision he was set on. "You never leave anything unfinished, y'know." The warmth from your hands was stolen from you as you held the tank steady for him, "And you can always call on me if you need help. I can work more than a register."

He was sure you could absolutely do more than a register, but your hands weren't supposed to be covered in grease like his, or calloused like his. You were supposed to have clean hands, manicured hands, dainty hands. Yet you didn't seem to care about any of that. Not as you leaned over the de-rusted handlebars to hold the gas tank so Shinichiro could fix the washer and bolt where they belonged and tighten them.

[taradactylshitposts]

My favorite moments from Gauntlet at the Garden

spoilers ahoy!

Brennan kissing Murph

Lou KO-ing Murph WWE Style to stall for time (and everyone going along with the bit)

Gilear punching Kalvaxus after the business dragon was turned into a burnt rat (and Sophie asking if his spouse left him too)

The whole “business dragon who comes from old money” bit

Ally asking to use fireball but with lightning damage so they could use the sparks SFX

Misty Moore scatting over the sugar plum fairy’s rendition of Tchaikovsky/nutcracker

The junk mother asking to be brought to New Jersey (GIVE HER TO US) 

All of Emily’s Staten Island fun facts 

K2 Moment bringing Kugrash back to life from the real world 

Ayda frickin Aguefort protecting Gilear from fire damage (“I'm gay as hell”)

Plug surgically altering Sophie Bikes to have a grenade launcher arm (and Kingston rolling medicine to see if this is all somehow above board; it was not.)

All of the PCs explaining how and why they can be considered Discarded to the junk mother (bonus points for Ricky saying he misses workouts and so his legs are a bit discarded)

The ART oh my gosh

Sophie and  Pete each going up to zero HP Kugrash and saying they love him but actually they can’t do any healing at all so they will be attacking the dragon.

The fire SFX scaring the shit out of Lou each time

Ricky/Zac’s face when Pete said there was Jäger in the camelback

[mischiefnevermanaged89-blog]

Gotta Be Somebody

Angel Reyes X Reader

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“(Y/N)! Good to see you, prima.”

I turned around to see Marcus walking up behind me at the shop that was connected to the clubhouse.

“Primo! Cómo estàs?”

“Beuno.” He chucked. “I’m here to see your dad. Is he around?”

I nodded.”Inside. Templo I think.”

He grabbed my head and kissed my temple. “Gracias.” He walked inside and I went back to working on my project.

An hour later, Marcus, my dad and some of the others walked out to find me still working on my newest project.

“How’s it going, hija?” Dad asked as he bent down to kiss the top of my head

I looked up at him, wiping my hands on a rag before I stood to hug him.

“Maldita cosa (damned thing) still won’t start.” I complained.

“Language, hija. Have you asked any of the others to help you? I’m sure they’d be happy to.”

“No, I haven’t. And I won’t. You know I want to do this on my own. Earn my right to ride my own bike by fixing it.”

Dad just chuckled. “I didn’t mean to not ask for help. All I meant was if you wanted to ride you’d have to do the work yourself. I wasn’t doing it for you.”

“Yeah yeah. If I can figure out why it’s not starting I can get it going with some of the spare parts that’s hopefully out back.”

“You’re just as stubborn as your old man.” Marcus said, patting my shoulder.

I playfully shoved him with my shoulder as we walked to his bike. I said goodbye to him as he climbed on his own bike and I walked up to the clubhouse.

I stepped inside to see all the guys gathering around the bar and tables. I smiled as I went to the bar and grabbed a beer.

“(Y/N)! Come over here.”

“Sup?” I walked to where dad sat and leaned against his chair.

“This is our new prospect, Angel. Angel, my daughter, (Y/N). He’s going to help you figure out what’s wrong with your bike. Anything you need, he’ll do. Won’t you, Prospect?” Dad said, looking up at him from his chair.

“Yeah. Yeah, whatever you need.” He threw his arms out beside him, hands in his kutte pockets.

I gave Angel a good look over. He was tall and well built. Beautiful eyes and face. His hair was slicked back on top; gave the impression it wasn’t to be touched. All in all, I certainly wouldn’t complain to look at him all day.

“Good.” I nodded my head in the direction of the door. “Let’s see what you know.”

Angel followed me outside. I took him to the shop to where I had set up my workspace.

“Damn. Now that’s a beauty.” He said.

“Once she’s fixed up right and a new coat of paint she’ll really be a beauty.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“Won’t crank. No matter what I do. I’ve replaced the spark plugs, starter, fuses, even a new carburetor. Damn thing won’t crank.”

Angel knelt down to take a closer look. He inspected every inch and after fifteen minutes he spoke.

“Looks like you got fuel valve and line problems. Need a new valve and some lines. Looks like these are shot to hell and back.”

“Estupido! I didn’t even think of that. We should have some in the yard. Help me dig.”

The two of us went to the back of the yard to dig around in the old parts.

“So, you’re Bishop’s daughter, huh?”

“Yeap. Surprising?”

“Kind of. Didn’t know he had a kid honestly.”

“Yeah, neither did he until I was dropped on his doorstep before I turned one. Apparently my mom didn’t want a kid and she dropped me off never to return. All that was with me was a note saying ‘She’s yours. Her name is (Y/N).’ He had to go to the hospitals just to find out when I was born and all my medicals so he could take care of me.”

“Why did she leave you?”

“No idea. Still don’t know her. She abandoned me twenty two years ago and I couldn’t thank her enough for it. Dad’s been the best. He’s made some screw ups, but what single father hasn’t? He kinda went off the deep end when we lost Aidan, but we’ve been there for each other.”

“Seems like you turned out okay. I mean, you are building yourself a bike. I don’t know any girl that would do that willingly.” He joked.

I gave him a smile and he smiled back. Damn that smile was pretty.

“Ha! Found it. What model bike you got?”

“2017 Harley Davidson Softail Breakout.”

Angel dug through the pile of fuel valves until he pulled one out. “This should do the trick. Grab those fuel lines right there and we just might be in business.”

I grabbed the lines and went back to work. Angel talked me through how to replace the parts so next time I would know what to do. When he wasn’t telling me how to replace, he talked of his family. He told me about his dad and brother and his mom.

I was starting to like the new prospect dad took under his wing. He had this look about him that he carried himself high but I knew deep down all he wanted was acceptance.

“Okay. I think that does it. Let’s see if she purrs.” I stood from the floor and straddled the seat. I turned the key and so far so good.

Looking at Angel I pressed the buttons to crank her up. When the motor finally made noise and started I yelled in happiness. I revved the motor a couple times and then let it run as I stood beside Angel.

“She sounds good, chica.”

I turned to see Coco and Gilly walking towards me. They each gave me a hug before stepping back to inspect.

“Prospect here figured out what it was. Talked me through how to fix it.” I turned it off. “Now she just needs some paint, a few cosmetic details and she’s all set.

“Well that’ll have to wait. You dad sent us to tell you to take the prospect and get stuff for tonight’s cookout.” Gilly tossed me the keys for the van. “Wanted me to tell you.” Pointing at Angel. “To talk to your old man to see about some meat, too.”

Angel nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”

I grabbed my jacket and slipped it on while walking towards the van. I jumped in and checked the glove box for the purchase book before Angel climbed in. Once he was in, I started the van and off we went, Coco opening the gate for us. I turned on the radio and blared Nickleback with the windows down.

Our first stop was for the alcohol we would need. I turned off the van and reached across to the glove box for the book and looked at Angel.

“The first thing you need to remember when there’s a party, too much is better than not enough. The guys can drink like fish, especially when some of them are in the ring.”

Angel chuckled and followed me into the store.

“Ah! Little Losa! How can I help you today?”

“Hiya Frankie. I need our usual party special. Showing dad’s new prospect here how things work.” I tapped Angel’s chest with my hand.

Frankie laughed. “I see. Well, let me get Marco to get you sorted and we’ll get you loaded up.”

“You know everybody, huh?” Angel leaned on the counter beside me as we waited.

I shrugged. “Not everybody. Just the important ones. Frankie’s been like a second dad to me since I was little. He keeps me straight when dad’s gone doing club business.”

“Uh-huh. How often is he gone?”

I quirked my eyebrow at him and smirked. “Why do you want to know? Trying to make a move?”

“N-no. I-I just wondered..”

I laughed. “Relax. I’m just teasing. He’s gone at least one week a month. Two of it’s a big job.”

“Here ya go, Losa. We replaced a keg with two cases of the beer. Our truck didn’t run on time this week.” Marco said as he pushed the cart out.

“No problemo. I’ll tell dad. Thanks.” I signed the paper and watched as he and Angel loaded the van. That was a sight I wouldn’t mind watching either. Angel sure did have some hidden talents under that shirt.

Once done, Angel showed me how to get to his dad’s shop and park around back.

“Hey, Pop!”

“Just a minute.”

I looked around the front and noticed a bookshelf and skimmed through the titles while we waited.

“What can I do for you, son?”

“Hey, pop. This is my sponsor’s daughter, (Y/N). They’re having a party tonight and wanted to have you provide some meat for them. Can you?”

He turned to look at me, a small smile on his lips. “Hola, Mr. Reyes.”

“Felipe, please.”

I nodded and smiled. “Here’s a list of what we’d need. Would it be possible?”

He took the list and looked it over. He nodded and asked Angel to follow him to the back to get it prepared. I turned back to the bookshelf and found a book to read while I waited.

An hour later Angel and I pulled back up at the clubhouse. Angel started unloading while I went inside to find dad.

“Hey, papa.”

“Hey, hija. Get everything?” He asked, kissing my temple.

“Mm-hm. Marco threw in two extra cases cause they were short a keg; truck was late this week. And Mr. Reyes had everything we needed for the cookout. Angel’s unloading now.”

“You do the proper write ups?” Hank asked.

“I did. Used the book in the van. Got yellow copies in the folder with it from today, too.”

Hank smiled and nodded. “Thank you.”

“I think I’ll go home and clean up before tonight. I’ll be back before the others get here to help the girls get ready.” I gave my dad a kiss on the cheek. “Love you, papa.”

“Love you, hija.”

“Bye, Angel.”

“Where you goin?” He asked, out of breath.

“Home. I’ll be back later.” I climbed into my El Camino and drove towards home, excited to get back to see Angel.

[ktmsportslove]

This presentation explores NGK spark plugs' role in enhancing the performance of 2-3 wheelers, such as motorcycles and scooters. It covers how spark plugs work, their importance in fuel efficiency and engine longevity, and guides viewers through NGK’s application chart to help select the right spark plug for specific vehicle models.

[boanerges20]

Suzuki GSX-R1000 Yoshimura-SERT-Motul // Denso

[kingdomof-omens]

Bad Omens HCs

With everyone posting their headcanons, I'm going to join in and tell you all my hcs of Bad Omens. Buckle up buttercup, we're talking boyfriend material and NSFW.

Tags: @signs-of-ill-portent @the-way-of-words @soakme-inbleach @ladyveronikawrites @cncohshit (if you want to be added to the tags, leave a comment or send a DM)

Divider by @/cafekitsune

Folio

My hc is that this man is the teddy bear boyfriend. He's the boyfriend that doesn't have to do anything in particular with you, just as long as you're there spending quality time together. He's a man that likes fishing. Fishing is a lot of waiting, a lot of sitting, and just chillin with a cold one popped open in his hand. So even if you two are sitting next to each other in silence, that's enough for him. He'll reach out to grab your feet to place them in his lap and rub them while you're reading so you have the ultimate relaxation. When he's working on his bike, he'll come to you with puppy dog eyes and ask for help, but all he really wants is for you to sit outside with him while he's changing the spark plugs or replacing a sensor. He's also a jokester, so fully expect to be called "dumbass" at least once a day, but he knows you'll call him a "fuckin bitch" right back. (lovingly, of course) And when you two fall asleep at night, he's going to smother you with cuddles and squeeze you to death so you don't have the chance to leave.

Sexually? This man is open to trying anything, as long as you want to. He's got a steady rhythm as he's disappearing inside of you and he's not going to stop until you come undone around him. His hands stay busy due to hitting drums nightly, so he prefers his girl on top so he can take those calloused palms and run them all over her body, touching, massaging, and maybe a slap or two. He's vocal. He's going to tell you that he loves how tight your pussy is as you roll your hips chasing your own high. He's going to ask you who owns that pussy, and you love telling him that he does. He loves blowjobs, watching you on your knees as your lips are wrapped around his cock working him over. Better relax that throat, cause he's going to end up thrusting himself into your mouth as much as he can. When you two are spent, he's going to take every last bit of energy he has to make sure you're all cleaned up and comfortable before bringing you your favorite pajamas and a glass of water.

Jolly

Jolly's the protector, you're his girl and everyone knows not to fuck with Jolly's Lady™. He's more of a chill boyfriend, wanting to stay home with you and watch movies while everyone else is hitting up the bar. He wants to take you out on dates at the fancy restaurants because that's what you deserve. He'll be out on tour and you'll come home from a long day of work to a bouquet of roses on your counter with a note that says "Miss you sweet girl". And when you FaceTime him to thank him, he's going to be grinning ear to ear because it made your day. He gives all of his trust in a relationship, so he doesn't care who you hang out with or where you go, as long as he knows you're safe and having fun. If anyone were to ever cross you, they'd immediately be placed on his shit list for life. And they better be lucky you talked him down from confronting them for having the audacity to upset his Lady because he would 100% "take care" of someone who hurt you.

In the bedroom, he's a dominant. He's the oldest man in the group and this man has experience. He knows how to bring you to your climax quickly and easily because he knows your body so well, but I think he likes to take him time with you. He likes to roughen things up a bit and loves to make you beg for him to enter you after teasing you all night at said fancy restaurant. If this man puts his hair up in a bun at the beginning of sexy time, you know you're in it for the whole night. He loves rope play, making you sit on your knees waiting patiently as he tightens the knots around your limbs. He'll never do something you're not 100% sure about, and as a matter of fact, he won't do it at all until you're begging for it. Sex, to him, is all for his Lady. He can beat his meat in the bathroom, he doesn't care, but you? You deserve to see stars as much as you and your body can handle. Afterwards, he's going to run you a warm bath with your favorite bath bomb and sit next to you as he takes the washcloth and cleans you up, because a Lady deserves to be taken care of properly.

Noah

He's the learning boyfriend. He wants to do his best giving you his undivided attention, he promises, but he just had a revelation about a song he's working on and he has to jot it down before it disappears. He's a perfectionist, not only in his music, but in making sure when you two schedule plans, it goes accordingly. Even if that means rushing you through your makeup before going out to your anniversary dinner because the reservation is for 6:00, not 6:02. He needs a girl that's patient and understanding, because he's going to hole himself in his studio for days at a time making sure a song is just the way he imagined it. He's going to be exhausted, but when he walks into the bedroom with heavy bags under his eyes, you're going to open your arms and welcome him into your bosom so he can get some much needed rest.

But he's not an dom like a lot of fics portray him as. He has to be in control in a lot of aspects of his life, being a perfectionist and all. So the bedroom is the one place he likes to lose control and give it to you. He wants you to tell him what to do, not in a dominating way, but the sex is all for you and your pleasure- so whatever you want, he'll make sure it's what you get. Speaking of your pleasure, this man is a pussy eater to his core. We've seen/heard about how much this man loves eating pussy and he'll bury himself in your folds like it's his last meal. Sometimes after a stressful day, he'll come to you and rub your knee asking if you could just spread your legs open a little bit so he can have a small taste. He'll lose himself in your slick to the point this man is panting when he pauses for air because he wants to dive right back in. He's not going to stop until he's satiated, and that takes a while. So if this man goes down on you, you better clear your schedule for the next few hours. We've also seen that he had a mirror on his closet door, and boy does he love watching you in the mirror bouncing on him.

Nicholas

He's the tender hearted boyfriend. When he loves you, it's unconditional, it's everlasting, and he puts his all into it. He got home from tour early one day and decided to decorate the house as a surprise for when you get off of work. He loves helping you in the kitchen, baking alongside you so he can find out what makes your choco chip cookies so amazing. He's a tattoo artist, so he catches every little detail of everything. He'll be sitting on the couch sketching something and noticed how your nose scrunches just right as you're trying to solve a 1000 piece puzzle, and next thing he knows he has your portrait on the page. Your home is filled with his artwork. You are so proud of his creations, him just slightly shy that all of your guests will see, but he sees your face light up with every piece and he would draw across the world just to see you smile.

Everyone knows him as the shy, tender hearted boyfriend, but in the bedroom it's the total opposite. This is a side only you will see. I believe this man is the true alpha out of all of the men. There will be some times where you two make love, slow and steady and gazing into each other's eyes as you both come undone. But, he loves temperature play, making you gasp between hot wax and melting ice cubes. He's going to edge you and string you along all night until tears are filling your eyes as you beg for release. He's the one that'll work you up all day, but make you watch him as he pumps his cock to climax and you get nothing because you couldn't stop teasing him at dinner with the guys. He loves calling you his good girl, and good girls wait to do anything until their man says so. But when he's finished making you regret your choices, he's going to cave in and make sure you cum at least once, because he hates seeing his girl so needy, wanting, and neglected. He'll give you proper aftercare, making sure you're clean and comfortable after a session, and he's going to ask you a million times if he went too far, if it was too much, and if there's anything he can do better for your pleasure.

[batsplat]

hi batsplat this is marquezian.. as our resident casey scholar i was wondering if you have casey race recs !!

boy do I ever have recs! here's a (hopefully) fairly comprehensive list, drawing from more or less all the stages of his grand prix career and featuring races notable for a bunch of different reasons

casey is quite defensive of the 'boring' racing of the alien era (in particular the 2010-12 years)... but it is a shame his time in motogp overlapped so heavily with the 800cc era, which did lead to some tough watches for fans of 'overtakes' and 'close racing' and 'unpredictability'. so a lot of these race picks aren't necessarily reflective of how casey racked up the majority of his wins, plus presumably don't always match up with what his own picks would be. but well, whatever! I threw in a few of the ones I know casey likes

warning: the race descriptions generally spoil the results of the races. since this list is pretty long, I've put an asterisk next to the races I'd particularly recommend, and double asterisk next to my personal faves

my tldr spoiler-free top five faves list is catalunya 2007, donington park 2007, laguna seca 2008, sachsenring 2010, and laguna seca 2011. my five next-off most notable/fun races are assen 2004, turkey 2006, qatar 2007, phillip island 2009 and silverstone 2011

and here's the actual list, in chronological order:

sachsenring 2003: first podium in grand prix racing! big disclaimer: the recordings of the 2003 125cc races you can find on the videopass are poor quality and don't feature any commentary, so not the easiest to watch. this race is also not great to follow on the colour front: the three main protagonists are *squints at notes* casey (yellow bike, number 27), perugini (mostly black and white but with a few greenish highlights, 7) and de angelis (mostly green, 15). but well it's a really tight fight that goes until the last corner, good fun... casey's talked about how nervous the track made him so he wasn't racing his opponents hard enough at the end. which is kinda sweet and revealing

brazil 2003: another tight battle, this time with jorge (green/red, 48) and de angelis, another time he doesn't QUITE make it. jorge's first ever victory! y'know the one where he overtakes everyone on the outside and starts the whole x-fuera thing

valencia 2003: first win! 125cc/moto3 racing being reliably good fun is a time-honoured tradition and it can even make that middling karting track exciting to watch. it's a good fight - quite helpfully, casey's nicely visible yellow bike contrasts well with the blue bike (hector barbera, number 80) and the red bike (sic, 58) (at some point steve jenker, 17, shows up on a black and white bike). that being said... the bloody video on the motogp website cuts off around two and a half laps to the end, which is a shame because those laps were (apparently) filled with drama. very close finish, not helped by the spark plug of casey's bike breaking RIGHT before the end, which is a very casey thing to happen to him. he thought he was screwed but ended up being saved by barbera running wide trying to overtake him in the last corner. here's a cute lil feature with casey discussing the race that you can probably just watch instead of the race. also ofc him saying how good it felt to beat the spanish at their home circuit (clip here), king of spite

^look at him in evil gross luminous yellow

**assen 2004: I'll admit, this race is one of my faves in large part because of the terrorism jorge does on casey on the last lap, which casey was NOT happy about. (in a funny coincidence, the same event features jorge's future teammate doing some last lap terrorism on gibernau that gibernau is also decidedly not thrilled about.) featured in the autobiography - he really wasn't a fan of jorge at the time - and when he's being sulky in the interview they have in the post-race broadcast. but another great fight and, with my apologies to casey, the last lap is fantastic. excitingly includes commentary!!

jerez 2006: casey's first motogp race! you don't reallyyyy see enough of him on the broadcast for it to be completely worth it, but it's still a proper good ride. he starts in fifteenth, makes a great start and then gets a lil lucky at the first corner when toni elias attempts to murder barrels into valentino and opens up a gap for casey. gets all the way up to fourth and finishes sixth!! also ofc a starring performance by dani at the front of the race

qatar 2006: second race of the season. after the first race, casey had been ill with a bad fever, plus there'd been a fuck up with the flights that meant he only got to the lusail circuit ten minutes before the first session. he topped the first practise session and qualified on pole, even though he was still recovering from illness and was massively sleep-deprived. his first battle with valentino, eventually drops a few places but still <3 also features some fun vale/nicky hayden battles

*turkey 2006: the third race of the season (look he front-loaded his good races that year) and my girl's first premier class podium!! but... bit of a heartbreaker as he did come VERY very very close to winning. also he said apparently he was pleased with his podium but when he got to parc fermé his team was acting disappointed he didn't win :( still a fantastic race, the highlight of casey's troubled rookie campaign. (casey was fast from the get-go in the premier class, but was dealing with major tyre issues that the team around him didn't do a good job at helping him with. by the end of the season, he ended up acquiring a somewhat unfair reputation for being a crasher, with the lovely nickname 'rolling stoner'. still, for young talent it's generally the peaks that matter most and you could really see his ability shine through here)

*qatar 2007: obviously of Great Narrative Significance, casey's first race with ducati and when he announced his arrival at the top of the sport by getting his first premier class win. good solid fun casey/vale fight, though it does feature the classic 'ducati blasts past everyone down that very long lusail straight' syndrome. people were kinda mean about that - which in turn made casey very irritable, arguing that if your bike is a nightmare to ride everywhere else then it's an accomplishment to be close enough to blast past down the straight. unfortunately I do agree a lil bit with the naysayers in terms of the actual racing, but still a pretty good fight

^the last year it was a day race

**catalunya 2007: probably my personal favourite? (of the ones casey won, anyway.) just something about a great battle at that track - obviously valentino had about a million, but this was really the only race-long one that he lost. important in the context of the 2007 title campaign - even though it was only a ten-point swing - because it showed casey wasn't just about horsepower dominance. fantastic riding from both of them

**donington park 2007: my fave of his wet weather performances because he actually has to work his way through the field. he started fifth but was outside of the top ten early on after an uncharacteristically poor start. fun race with plenty of good shake-ups of the order

(he sealed the title in motegi and won his home race for the first time that year, but since he finished sixth in the former and won the latter by a few lightyears, they don't make the cut)

*qatar 2008: more fun than qatar 2007!! imo!! obviously it's also jorge's first race and he's on pole and dani's a bit injured and those two have their whole thing™️ going on... and vale has just switched tyre suppliers and is trying to prove he's not washed and casey is starting his title defence... so a big significant race for all four of them, and unlike many races in that era has a fair few twists and turns and almost all of them actually get to fight each other a bit. okay eventually it settles down and gets dull but until then it's fun (and there's also some very late excitement involving dovi/vale)

**laguna seca 2008: I feel a wee bit bad for including this one and casey would throw something at me, but well it obviously belongs on here. ignoring casey's complaints for a minute about vale's aggression, it really is a fantastic battle - and vale only goes as far as he does because casey's so good! (also unsure whether casey would appreciate this line of reasoning.) probably the one everyone's most likely to have already watched, and for good reason since it slaps. sorry casey

estoril 2009: only for sentimental reasons, after the first few laps it gets boring fast. still, it's casey's first race back after the mystery illness-induced break, he immediately has a cute lil battle with vale (which he wins, slay) and... okay then it's basically a procession but it's also nice and sweet when it's over and he's on the podium and he's shown everyone he's still got it. maybe skip like. 20 laps

**phillip island 2009: casey's first win in only his second race back!!! warning that it's a little light on actual overtaking but it's still tense and close most of the way through and casey's so great to watch on this circuit. (he's literally too good at it for most of his races there to be all that interesting, this is probably the best one.) plus it's another one included partly for sentimental reasons. here's my pitch:

sepang 2009: so he's been slandered for months, he's been written off, ducati have been fucking him over, he comes back and immediately gets a podium finish and wins the next race... what does he do after that? win again obviously! another neat little wet performance (partly helped by vale having a bit of a shocker off the line lmao, though he seals the title that day with a p3 finish)

valencia 2009: if you want to see the pole sitter crash on the warm up lap and dani almost miss the start in confusion

**sachsenring 2010: vale's first race back after the broken leg. usually that's the time when everyone would pretend to be nice to each other... but all three of vale, jorge and casey had gone to efforts during vale's absence to make things worse <3 anyway cracking race including a good fun spite-fuelled battle between casey and vale for the last podium spot, one of their better scraps with a dramatic ending - after which both of them are charmingly bitchy about each other to the media (see below). shame it was basically their last notable battle in the dry (I didn't include either jerez 2011 or le mans 2012 on this list because I wouldn't really recommend them as good casey races, but they do more or less conclude casey and vale's on-track story. and the latter is also the last podium they share, plus it's the race right after casey announced his retirement. fave presser moment)

^😭😭😭😭😭 you guys are AWFUL oh my god. people always talk about laguna 2008 but the vibes got way more rancid post-2009 when their actual on-track rivalry was basically over

motegi 2010: this one's kinda marginal on whether it qualifies for this list. casey was really proud of this win and felt his 2010 wins were particularly impressive given how much he had to override a bike that was objectively shit by this point.... BUT in practise once he shakes off dovi, it's quite a dominant win and the real fun is watching valentino experiment with whether he can make jorge lorenzo the first person ever to die of rage alone while riding a motorcycle

*silverstone 2011: one of the truly great wet weather performances. this is a personal taste thing - I don't mind dominance as much in the wet because it's just cool sometimes seeing somebody drop a masterclass on the field in those conditions. but obviously not necessarily the most exciting victory fight once he hits the front after like. a lap. still, good battles going on behind him

^a fan of british tracks, not a fan of the british

*sachsenring 2011: great three-way battle with jorge and dani, with the lead exchanged several times - also plenty of other good battles down the order. not one casey emerges victorious from, but definitely one of the best races that season

**laguna seca 2011: okay look corkscrew this corkscrew that but there's an argument to be made that casey makes a pass in this that's better than anything marc and vale can DREAM of. well no I won't go that far - but it's still an incredible overtake, insane thing to do at a blind corner, and casey just looks fantastic riding on that circuit. in his autobiography he says something along the lines of 'oh it looked scary on tv but I knew I'd make it'. which. okay casey!! not gonna say more than that, one of those where you'll know it when you see it. one of the best races of his career and also a key race in that year's title fight

phillip island 2011: marginal inclusion, but it's sweet he sealed the title on his 26th birthday by winning his home race (even though he mainly sealed it there because jorge lost half a finger and couldn't start the race). conditions got treacherous when the rain showed up but well casey stayed on the bike, just about

*jerez 2012: casey's first and last win at jerez! this is the one that casey called his greatest career win at the time and... sure, fair enough, especially given he had a weirdly bad record at the track. he didn't enjoy the experience much because of his arm pump issues, which makes the performance all the more impressive. fun first few laps in particular, after that it's maybe a bit more tension than actual action. still a proper good race

estoril 2012: another win he's very proud of... another one that's maybe even more skewed towards tension than actual action, but still an unmistakably impressive performance given jorge's strong record there and casey's physical issues. that and jerez completed his set as they'd been the races he hadn't won yet, which made him feel more certain of his choice to retire

phillip island 2012: listen it's his last win and it sealed the title (for jorge), so was at least somewhat exciting. but also according to his autobiography, casey deliberately rode slower for a bit before expanding the gap again just to keep his focus up, which I think gives you a sense of how easy he found winning there

^his penultimate race and sixth consecutive victory at phillip island. he also finished on the podium in his last ever race at valencia

[fckbatmanhiskidsareminenow]

Avoiding Doomsday

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65342290/chapters/168129241

summary

the batkids helping each other out when they need it.

tags because i wasn’t bothered to type them again

Chapter 1 — Pull The Plug In September, I Don’t Wanna Die In June — Babs

Dick and Jason help Babs out when she’s overworking.

Sparks danced in the shadows as a young man with dark hair moved with precision and speed. His eyes, a piercing green, remained focused on the task at hand, each blow of his hammer shaping a piece of scrap into a recognizable form. His muscles flexed beneath a worn-out shirt, sweat beads forming a delicate pattern down his forehead as he worked. The name "Jason" was carved onto the wooden workbench before him, something he’d done in what seems like a lifetime ago now…

Outside, the Gotham night was alive with the distant murmur of sirens and the occasional screech of tires. It was a soundtrack that had become all too familiar to Jason. The garage door rumbled open, and a figure emerged from the darkness, the bright lights of the city silhouetting him.

Dick, with his acrobatic grace, leapfrogged over a stack of tires and landed lightly beside Jason, his eyes scanning the progress on the bike.

"Looking good," Dick said, his voice carrying a hint of genuine admiration. "But I thought you'd be out on patrol by now."

Jason grunted in response, not taking his eyes off his work. "Couldn't leave it half done," he said, his voice gruff but not unkind. "It's like leaving a puzzle unfinished."

Dick chuckled. "Some things never change." He paused, watching Jason's intense concentration before his gaze drifted over to the clock on the wall. “I came by because we've got a situation. Barbara's been burning the midnight oil again, and she's not picking up."

At the mention of Barbara, Jason's hand stilled. The concern in Dick's voice was palpable, and it resonated with him. He knew the cost of pushing oneself too hard all too well.

"What's Red working on this time?" he asked, setting down his hammer.

Dick shrugged. "The usual. Cases that the GCPD can't crack, keeping tabs on the new players in town, and juggling her day job. But she's been at it for days without a break."

The two men shared a look that spoke volumes. Both of them knew Barbara, the brilliant mind behind the screen of Oracle, and her unyielding dedication to the mission. But they also knew her as Babs, who was human, family, and a friend. Dedication like hers often leads to overworking. It was clear to Dick that Barbara was pushing herself to the edge.

"Let's go check on her," Jason said, wiping his hands on a grease-stained rag. He had his own battles to fight, but when it came to family, he'd drop everything. Together, the two former Robins headed out into the night, ready to offer a helping hand to their friend who was dangerously close to burning out.

Barbara's apartment was a stark contrast to the garage's chaos, a bastion of order and technology. The living room was bathed in the soft glow of computer screens, their blue light reflecting off her glasses as she typed away furiously. Her desk was littered with files and empty energy drink cans, a testament to the hours she'd spent pouring over information. Dick knocked gently on the door before pushing it open, holding a bag of takeout for the three of them in his hand.

Barbara, startled at the sudden intrusion, spinning her chair around to face them. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her posture was a tapestry of tension. "Hey, guys," she said, trying to sound casual despite her exhaustion. "What's up?"

"We brought dinner," Dick announced, setting the bag down. "And a friendly reminder that you can't save Gotham on an empty stomach."

Jason stepped closer, his gaze taking in the dark circles under Barbara's eyes. "Looks like you could use some help," he said bluntly. "You've been at this for too long."

Barbara sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. "I know," she admitted. "But there's just so much to do."

Dick placed a hand on her shoulder. "We know, Babs," he said gently. "But you can't do it all alone. Let us take some of the weight."

Her eyes searched their faces, and she saw the sincerity in their expressions. Reluctantly, she nodded. "Okay," she said, "but only because I don't want to see what kind of mess you'd make if I keeled over."

They shared a laugh, the tension in the room easing slightly. Dick and Jason split the workload, diving into the stacks of cases and intel that Barbara had amassed. They worked well into the night, their banter a soothing background noise as Barbara's shoulders gradually relaxed. The steady conversation of memories from years ago, of when they were Nightwing, Robin, and Batgirl, helped her remember the family that would stay with her forever.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Jason merely nodded. They had all been there before, at the precipice of collapse, held together by the bonds of family and duty. It was moments like these that reminded them why they fought, and who they fought for.

The trio tackled the tasks at hand, turning the tide of the night into something a bit more manageable. The city was still out there, waiting for them, but for now, they had each other, and that was all that mattered.

[bruisedknuckledbuckshot]

@themannfamily

The scout should probably not be tinkering with the company truck without supervision but screw the lot of em. Not like he has anything else going on right now and Engie is too busy doing god knows what in his shop. Angel will not be denied going to town as he needs! How hard can it be to replace a spark plug anyhow? He isn't a baby that didn't know what he was doing, after all his bike is nearly finished in that rusty shack outback.

Lightly crunching on the sucker in his mouth, Angel is half buried in the engine, red jacket off, tied around his waist, black turtle neck still in place no matter the weather. Sleeves rolled up while trying to unscrew said plug but fucker is in a narrow spot. So damn close so far- just too occupied to noticed anyone approaching in this barren or even paying attention to him by this point.

[bellygunnr]

Trueno Twitterpation

A commission piece for @lyndexv of their OC Geoff reviving a sentient AE86! It was an absolute blast to write.

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The AE86 was a cowering, sorry mess when he first discovered her, wheels stuck fast in dry-wet-dry again mud ruts and strapped down by voracious forest overgrowth. How she got there evades Geoff still, as her previous handler had long since passed and the one before him just wanted her gone. He'd all too eagerly dragged her out of her mire and onto a tow truck. The sunlight'd been good for her on that trip, though. Under the muck, her paint had taken on a faint glow, which he kept an eye on until she was practically a fireball trailing him home.

Now she's clean. Physically, at least. Her tires are new and so is her paint. And she stares at him plaintively from his driveway, headlights popped up, drawing his full attention repeatedly until he can do nothing but give in to her call. It's nice outside, at least. A pleasant day with a breeze. His skin itches, like he imagines the Trueno's does, a restless buzzing that urges him to unlock her driver's door and drop inside, stretching out to fill the cabin with all the languidness of a cat in a sunbeam.

He runs his hands along the hard edge of her utilitarian dashboard, key pinned against his palm with his thumb. Dust floats up in fits and bursts as he does so, becoming a thin veneer that the low outside sun diffuses in. The restlessness becomes electric, then, and he hurries to turn the key in the ignition over.

The dashboard lights gradually warm to life. The engine, not so much. The AE86 trembles under his hands, her anxiety as acute as a storm's ozone, her shame a pulsing heat between his eyes, like tears. 

"Hey, hey," he says gently. "Don't be upset. I know it's hard. It's not your fault."

The Trueno's frame judders hard with the force of the engine cranking. Fuel sparks, but it's both too much and not enough, and he sees smoke filter pitifully from her backend through the rear view mirror while the engine sputters back out. He pats the top of her dash consolingly.

It's terrible. She's willing, he can feel it, but there's-- problems. Barriers. Age. Disuse. Abuse. And it's killing her.

"I'll be right back. Alright? I've got a couple ideas."

He runs his hand across her dash one more time. Heat bleeds between them, lingering all the way to the hardware store, which he bikes to. When he comes back, he's significantly poorer and weighed down by car parts.

But it's a nice day. They've got time to burn. He has the tools.

And she's willing.

--

Geoff pulls out spark plugs that are black and burnt. He swaps them out for new iridium-tipped ones. Then he pulls the air filter and the carburetor and that's a new round of problems-- running is to survival as driving is to living, can't have one if you're the other, so he's glad he bought a rebuild kit for the carb. 

"Guess we'll have to go for that drive tomorrow. Sorry, girl," he sighs. "But this won't take long. I'll get you put back together."

The wind blows. One of the headlights abruptly droops, as if the '86 is winking in acknowledgement. Geoff carefully lowers the hood down and clamps it shut.

"Just sit tight."

He ducks into his garage.

---

The carb body has to soak and dry, and be brushed through. He sits at his workshop bench with the flood light on and goes through the floater, the jet screws, all of it, until it is whole and hale. His back burns with the full attention of the AE86 (or maybe he's just imagining it). (It's getting hard to tell).

It's dark out by the time he's done and that's okay. He drags his light source out with him, making multiple runs for the tools, until the AE86 is open and waiting. She's cool to the touch now that the sun's gone. She patiently abides Geoff's fumbling around in her engine bay.

"That should help with some of it. New air filter. Rebuilt carburetor-- I changed the settings, too, just to keep up with things. That'll feel good in the morning."

He's numb with cold by the time he's done. She bounces on her suspension when he closes her hood one more time, finished for the night. His hands linger on the panel of her closed headlamp.

"Good night," Geoff says.

---

He ends up sleeping in too late the next day. The shrill beep of a horn-- not French, he thinks bizarrely-- wakes him up with a shout. He's halfway out the door in just a t-shirt and boxers before his brain catches up with his body and he stares hard at his driveway, confused.

Clouds skate across the sky. A bird lingers atop his mailbox.

The AE86 has not moved an inch. But--

"I'm gonna go get dressed," he tells her. 

And he does, in record time. The Trueno's key bites into his palm with a sort of nervous energy. He's still not fully awake, but he's jittery in a suppressed adrenaline, pre-interview, post-accident kind of way. It's usually not a good start to a day. But this feels alright.

The driver's door is ajar before he even pulls the handle. He pauses, but shrugs and slides into the seat, letting muscle memory guide him until the engine is cranking.

It hangs.

"Come on, girl," he urges quietly. 

He twists the key again.

With a pop, the four cylinders start to go, and everything buzzes to life.

"Brilliant!" Geoff cries. "I knew it! I hope that feels good!"

His face twinges from smiling so broadly. Experimentally, he revs the engine, watching the needle smoothly sail from idle to 2000, 3000, and drop back down. There's some rough bubbling-- but she's not quitting. Good. Fantastic, even.

He drops into first gear. Very gently, they work together, easing out of the driveway and onto the gravel road beyond. She snarls a little passing into second into third, but stays true.

Excitement suffuses him. He can't tell if it's all his emotions or something else. But it doesn't matter. Geoff cranks the windows down, waves at a passing motorist. They don't understand.

That's okay.

They end up driving to the coast. After some time, he feels the urge to pull off onto the side of the road, where a breeze has picked up and drags in the scent of the sea, mixing in with the tang of grass. It's picturesque. His heart is still beating fast.

The Trueno idles along. Geoff tenses suddenly.

Thank you, he hears.

"What?" He blurts out.

Thank you, is repeated. For saving me as you did.

The voice is entirely in his head. Yet he can hear it. Hear her. And he knows in his bones that he's hearing Her, the '86, her chassis trembling with the raucous motion of her engine. This adrenaline. This joy. His, but not his alone. Hers, too.

"I'd do it again," he says stiltedly. "And I'll keep fixing you up until there's nothing wrong with you."

He hears her wheels crunch in the gravel. The blunt curve of a fender presses up against his legs.

Of course. I have full faith in you.

Geoff scrubs at his face, trying to hide a rapidly rising blush. She can't just SAY that! He turns around, only to find the Trueno shaking on her rear-suspension, in a rather identifiable pattern. Of course. 

"The feeling's mutual," he gets out.

They're both glad it's such a nice day out.