#wheel tire lug nuts

[ace-turned-confused]

shiftin' gear | part two

joel masterlist | series masterlist

pairing: mechanic!joel x f!reader series outline: a slacker of a boyfriend, no job, and now your car needs serious maintenance. heading to the mechanic’s, you’re just expecting him to rid you of your car troubles and move on — you’re certainly not expecting him to change your life chapter summary: with big decisions to make, life throws you a curveball that leads you to joel again word count: 3,2k warnings: 18+ only, reader is able-bodied, boyfriend is still useless & also a prick, minor injury & blood, my car knowledge™️, bit of a cry & breakdown sesh, age gap (23/50), smutty thoughts, allusions to f masturbation a/n: thank you @frannyzooey for all the help & encouraging words when reading this over 😚❤️

A month has passed since you first met Joel Miller and you haven’t gone to see him since. You certainly wanted to, but couldn’t bring yourself to go there under the excuse of a lie, or the alternative of admitting you went just because you could. Every time you turn your car’s ignition, a small part of you hopes that another light will flicker on the dashboard, but so far that dream hasn’t been fulfilled.

A month since you met Joel Miller but three months since you and Jake last slept together. The few times you’ve come close, you end up giving him an excuse. At first, you simply couldn’t be bothered to put so much effort in, claiming you were tired. But lately, it’s because you’re thinking of Joel — what it’d look like having his hand dipping into your panties, how his mouth would feel on you, how you’d burn up watching him take himself out his pants.

Which is not ideal when Joel isn’t the one trying to do those things.

Jake’s been putting more pressure on you to see him more regularly again and it’s laborious, draining, constantly needing to put on this cheerful persona around him — you’re never able to mope around or yell or cry just for the sake of it. Truthfully, you’ve been trying to work out for a long time now how to go about breaking up with him.

His reaction to why you had quit your job had catapulted this even further. I’m sure the guy was a deserving candidate. You can’t just quit because someone better than you got the job. Not asking how you felt, not asking for details, simply not caring. He still had the nerve to ask if you were staying the night after that, and that’s when you dropped the conversation. Your employment hadn’t been brought up again.

As brief as it was, you found great comfort in talking to Joel about it — not once did he tell you you’d made a mistake, or that you’d regret it down the line. Just knowing he’s there to listen is more than what you have right now. 

Maybe you should stop by sometime.

-

You have plans to see Jake tonight, and you’re undecided on whether or not you should finally cut ties with him. You’re dressed in a square-neck navy top and black pants that hug your hips and thighs amazingly. Sure, you might end the night by breaking a boy’s heart — though, you’re not sure he’ll feel much emotion other than confusion — but this might be the one thing that’ll keep you feeling good about yourself right now.

Stopping off to get a few small items at the grocery store, the parking lot is mostly empty by the time you walk out. As you reach your car again, you see one of your back tires is almost completely flat. Dropping your bags, you seethe with anger – it feels like one fucking thing after another. 

Taking a breath, you calm yourself down and start unpacking the toolkit from your boot. Car jack, lug wrench, some… other tool that’s used for something — it can’t be that important. You run the process over in your head — it’s just changing a tire, how difficult can it be?

Crouched down on your knees, you’ve partially loosened the lug nuts on the wheel and are busy jacking up your car when your mind drifts off to Joel. He’d probably do this for you and you wouldn’t even argue with him — you couldn’t look away the first time he worked on your car, and you doubt that’ll ever change.

Maybe he’d be surprised you can do this, maybe he’d be impressed. Maybe he’d tell you you’re too pretty to change a tire and get your clothes dirty. You’d laugh it off, but you might just believe him.

You can’t picture Jake saying that to you — you can’t remember the last time he even gave you an honest compliment and meant it, not something backhanded, not something that elevates him higher than you. 

What’s sadder is that it doesn’t upset you anymore.

Changing a tire is easy enough in theory, but this is the first time you’ve actually done it yourself and Jesus Christ it’s more taxing than you anticipated. You’re sweaty, out of breath, and you’re sure you’ve pulled a muscle. In the depths of your daydreaming, you lose your grip on the lug wrench and fall forward, scraping your arm on the tar. It stings to no end and blood starts settling in small pools, the surface of your skin covered in a rough mixture of gravel and bits of tar — the last thing you need, but it’ll have to wait.

Tossing the wrench to the ground, it lands with a startling clank, the sound reverberating through your skull. You’re hauling the old wheel into the boot of your car and see a nail, stuck flush in the tire, still shiny and new. You wish you could feel shiny and new again.

Fuck this. You pull out your phone to text Jake.

You: just got a fucking flat tireYou: not coming anymore, sorry

You don’t wait for him to respond and focus on lowering your car again. You consider your options on where to go after this — not particularly wanting to go home so soon to be grilled by your dad, there is one place you can think of.

-

It’s early evening and Joel’s getting ready to close up shop for the day, tools pushed to the side and cash books up to date. Piling up loose papers, he finds the invoice for the brake sets he used on your car and he can’t help but wonder how you’ve been the past month. Each day that passed he hoped you’d show up — maybe something else was wrong with your car, maybe you’d just come to see him for the sake of it, but you never did. He told himself it was better that way.

He’s been keeping himself busy otherwise, teaching Eddie some tricks of the trade and avoiding Hazel. She’s not a bad woman, but he’s made it clear on plenty of occasions that he is not interested, be it a one-night stand or something serious  — then, of course, he met you.

He hasn’t been on a real date in a lifetime, he’s had casual flings here and there, but he’s felt drawn to you right from the start. He just wants to take care of you, give you the treatment you deserve, which you aren’t getting from your boyfriend. Emotionally, physically — whatever you need, whatever you’ll let him do. A part of him hopes you and this Jake boy will eventually break up and you’ll come running into his own arms instead, as selfish as it may be.

He hears a car stop outside and a door slams shut with a thud, pulling him out of his thoughts. Turning around he sees you dragging yourself in from the street, bloody scrapes on your arm and dirt stains on your pant legs. You look tired, rattled.

“Joel? Please can you help me?”

-

Joel’s standing alongside your car, hands on his hips, in the same tight coveralls you saw him wearing a month ago.

“You know you could’ve just called sweetheart, I would’ve come to change it for you.”

“I can change a tire.” Previously, the endearment would’ve made your mind go blank, but you’re tired — tired of Jake, tired of life’s bullshit, tired of everything, and it comes out much harsher than you intended.

Joel doesn’t seem to notice. If he does, he doesn’t comment. He bends down to inspect it and a small part of you hopes he’s impressed by your efforts.

“I can see that, you did a good job of it too.” He tries twisting a lug nut and it doesn’t shift. “Who taught you how to do this?”

“Common sense? It’s not that complicated.”

“You didn’t wanna call your dad or that boyfriend of yours to come and help?”

“My dad would tell me I’m doing it wrong and I’d tell Jake he was doing it wrong. No thanks.”

You stand, arms folded across your chest and give him a tight smile, which fades as fast as it appears. Usually you’d revel in the banter between you, but tonight you can’t find it in yourself to let go.

“Well, I won’t keep you long. I’ll put a new tire on here for you and you’ll be good to go on.”

Your phone rings before you can respond — you tilt the screen and can see it’s Jake. You let out a bitter sigh, not in the mood for the insensitivity and all-round lack of respect you’re bound to get from him. You don’t excuse yourself when you answer, beyond caring what Joel may hear from either of you.

“Yes?”

“Why didn’t you call me, I could’ve come to help.”

“Says the guy who needed the manual to find the lever for the fucking fuel cap.”

“Well, I could’ve fetched you or called someone else.”

“It’s fine, it’s done. I’m getting a new tire fitted anyways, I’m at the mechanic’s right now.”

“Alright, whatever, but it’s not too late — you can still come over, stay the night maybe?”

“I said I’m not coming — my clothes are filthy, I’ve got muscle cramps where I didn’t know I fucking had muscles, and I’m not in the mood Jake. Not tonight.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Joel stills, just for a moment, like that was the last thing he expected to hear from you. You swear you can see his ears redden and you wish you could see the expression on his face.

“Thought you’d have changed your mind by now but okay, I could come over to…”

“I said no. I have to go.”

You end the call and cut his goodbyes short, putting your phone on silent and shoving it back into your pocket. Seeing Joel had lifted your spirits ever so slightly, and now that’s all been undone. You’ve held it together all day but you feel tears start to well in your eyes. You blink furiously, trying your hardest to will them away before it’s too late.

-

“Everything alright?”

Joel stands and turns to face you, repeating his question when you don’t respond and sees you staring ahead, tears streaming down your cheeks. As if on instinct, he moves towards you and wraps his arms around you. He feels your body go rigid and begins to pull back — this was a mistake, he should’ve asked — but as fast as he lets you go you’re pulling him back in, your arms now wrapping around his middle.

Standing with your head buried into his chest, your breaths come out in gasps as you try to stop yourself from crying. He can feel your hands are balled into fists and you’re squeezing your arms like he’s the only thing keeping you grounded, like you’re scared he won’t come back if you let go. Joel’s careful not to put his hands where he really shouldn’t, one between your shoulder blades, the other cradling your head. Everything is not alright, but he doesn’t want to overstep, risk pushing you further down into yourself and further away from him.

“Hey, sweetheart, let’s go sit.”

You don’t object as he moves his hand to the small of your back and walks you into the office. He sits you down on the couch, handing you water from the fridge and you’ve gone silent, eyes drawn to the floor, but your tears have somewhat slowed. He notices blotches of dried blood on the bottom of your shirt and gets up to find some bandages and cotton pads — he knows there’s a first-aid kit somewhere around here.

“Just wanna clean your arm up, that okay?”

You nod your head meekly, still avoiding his eyes. He takes your arm in his hands, twisting it to see the scrapes and grazes in their entirety. He wipes your arm down with an alcohol-soaked cotton pad and you pinch your eyes shut, wincing slightly at the inevitable sting. Thankfully your arm just looked worse than it is; he’s able to leave most of it uncovered, only bandaging a small section that looks particularly inflamed.

Placing your arm down in your lap, he’s not sure how to carry on. He can practically hear you thinking, but what exactly is turning over and over in that head of yours he doesn’t know.

“Sorry,” you mumble weakly, angling your head towards him, gaze still downward.

“Sorry for what?”

“This.” You shift your hands around in your lap and start picking at your nails. You slump down on the couch, continuing, “Sorry for crying.”

“Hey, look at me.” Joel turns himself to face you, resting an elbow on the back of the couch. He waits for you to turn and you finally lift yourself to meet his gaze, your eyes red and glassy.

“Don’t apologise for crying, sweetheart. You’re allowed to cry.”

“I’m twenty-three, I should be better at all this by now.”

“Better at what? I’m about to turn fuckin’ fifty and I still cry sometimes.”

You turn away from him again — you furrow your brow and he can tell you’re trying to come up with a reason why that shouldn’t apply to you, why you need to be stronger than anyone else.

“I assume that was your boyfriend on the phone? Sounds like you had grand plans for tonight.”

You screw your face up at that.

“Don’t call him- don’t say that. He had grand plans, I was psyching myself up to break up with him.”

He knew that something wasn’t right between the two of you, but he didn’t realise it would be quite this bad.

“It’s just…” You sigh again, sounding despondent, like all that anger you had earlier has been dissolved, absorbed, or maybe you’ve just become desensitised to it.

“I just don’t understand, how is he so… detached? It’s like he’s from another fuckin’ planet. I can’t tell anymore if he just doesn’t care or if he truly is that self-absorbed.” You lean back and bring your arms up, draping them over your head.

“Was it always like this?” He’s trying his best to tread lightly, but hopes you’ll feel more at ease if you can get some of this off your chest.

“No… at least, I don't think so. Maybe it has been and I was just blinded by the bare minimum. Only now he doesn’t even do that.”

You turn to look at him again, eyes changed from glassy to broken and exhausted. You whisper a thank you, a soft, sad smile on your face and he decides not to push you any further. You’ve shared, and that’s a start — you’ll come to him again in your own time.

“Gonna go finish up that tire of yours, you can stay in here a while if—”

You’re standing before he can get the words out, straightening out your shirt and wiping your tear-stained cheeks with the back of your hand.

“Sounds good, let’s go.”

No longer hysterical as you push past to walk outside, now you just look defeated. He should insist you stay put to be alone, but having just opened up about your insecurities and loveless relationship with Jake, now isn’t the time to defy you. Maybe he can try and bring a smile to your face before you say goodbye.

-

You thought your night might end in tears courtesy of Jake, but this isn’t what you were expecting. You can’t believe you broke down so easily in front of Joel, but maybe deep down you knew he wouldn’t mind, knew he’d be there to console you.

You have to admit, it felt nice to be held, to feel safe in someone's embrace. Your head was spinning — Jake’s an asshole, my arm hurts like a bitch, I’m never gonna get the blood out of this shirt. Then Joel took your arm in his hands and it had your head spinning for entirely different reasons. Feeling his fingertips dig into your skin and his hold around your wrist had you longing to feel those same sensations on the rest of your body.

Joel shook your hand the first day you met and you committed it to memory — firm grip, calloused palm, thick fingers. You replayed it in your mind on countless late nights with your hand between your legs, trying to imagine how different it would feel, how much better it would feel if it were his instead.

Coming outside into fresh air was supposed to calm you down, until Joel carried on replacing the tire and you felt heat settle under your skin, neither from injury nor anger. Muscles flexing under his coveralls, neck tensing and the grunts from the exertion — something else you can commit to memory. You feel your panties dampen and you don’t feel ashamed.

Joel stands when he’s finished fitting the new tire, lifting you out of your fantasy. Thinking back to the last time you saw him, you remember his parting words to you: you’re welcome to come answer the phone for me. You couldn’t tell if he was being polite or actually offering you a job.

“Were you serious about all that answering the phone stuff?” You wring your hands, worried you’re about to make a fool of yourself.

“You wanna work here?” Joel straightens up, the hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“I mean, I know my dad would like to see me out of the house and actually doing something. I doubt this would impress him, though.”

Joel cocks his head to the side, hands planted on his hips as he inches towards you and you feel yourself heat up instantly, eyes going wide as embarrassment washes over you.

“Sorry! No offence to you, I just mean- I’m not saying it’s- God I’m really not helping myself.” You snap your eyes shut, hands flying up to cover your face and you wish the world could just swallow you whole.

Joel starts laughing, a quiet, gravelly sound and you open your eyes to glare at him. He raises his eyebrows, a wide smile now across his face.

“No offence taken. Do you really wanna sit here answering the phone? I‘m sure there’ll be some other stuff we can do, too, but not much else beyond that.”

Other stuff we can do. You could certainly think of a few things, that’s for sure.

“Well, something’s better than nothing. And you play nice music, so there’s that.”

He laughs again, shaking his head.

“Maybe you can teach me some car stuff when I’m not answering the phone. And… you’re nice to be around, I guess.” You purse your lips, trying your best to play it off as an innocent compliment. 

“Well alright then, I’ll see you next week sweetheart.” He smiles warmly, eyes just beginning to crinkle around the edges and for the first time today you feel at ease.

Joel saves your number and waves you goodbye as you drive off. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he’s still standing in the road, a smirk plastered on his face and you grin like an idiot. You still have Jake to deal with, and your blood-stained shirt might go straight in the bin, but at least you have working with Joel to look forward to.

comments & reblogs are hugely appreciated, forehead kisses to all 💜

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[the-offside-rule]

Max Verstappen (Red Bull Racing) - Tyre Change

Requested: yup

Prompt: Teammate Max (a request I'm getting a lot)

Warnings: slight teammate bickering

"Oh what the fuck?" Y/n asked as she stepped out of her car, staring at the front wheel, the steam practically pouring off it from the sheer heat of it. "What the fuck am I meant to do?" She whispered to herself. She was in Monaco so she couldn't call her dad or brother to come help like usual.

On a moonlit night in Monaco, up in the mountains borderline middle of nowhere, Y/n found herself stranded with a flat tire. Frustration etched across her face, she heard footsteps approaching. To her surprise, Max had emerged from the shadows. His car had stopped right next to hers, with the window rolled down to talk to her. "Hi." She replied with a fake smile. As Max approached, he couldn't resist a playful remark. "Looks like your car can't handle the pressure. Nice to see not much changes during the off season." Y/n rolled her eyes, retorting. "Don't act like you've never had a flat, Max. And I handle pressure just fine, thank you." Max smirked. "We'll see about that. So have you called a breakdown service?" He asked. Y/n shook her head. "Why?" Max asked. "It'd cost me an arm and a leg out here! I was actually hoping a fan would just pop up and offer their services for free and it seems like my biggest fan is here." Max chuckled as Y/n smiled at him. "Let me show you how it's done." Max said, grabbing the tyre change tools from the boot of his car. "

"I- I can't change the tyre." She said. "That's okay. I didn't know how to until I was like 18? My dad nearly-" Y/n stopped him right there. "No, I know how to, I just don't have a spare wheel." Max looked at her, almost shocked. "Why?" Y/n shrugged her shoulders. "Well I have a tyre repair kit instead." Max stood up again from inspecting the tyre and practically towered over his teammate. "Why?" Max asked again. "Because when we were given the cars, I ticked the tyre repair kit instead." Y/n explained. "Why didn't you tick both?" Y/n's eyes widened. "You could tick both?" Max laughed and nodded. "Yes?" His teammate groaned and kicked a pebble on the ground. "Oh for fucks sake."

Max, not one to pass up a challenge, offered his assistance with a smirk. "Well, since we have the same car, I'll give you my spare tyre and I'll go get a new one in the factory. How's that sound?" Max asked. Y/n, reluctant yet intrigued, accepted his help. "Right, let's get to work."

As they worked under the dim glow of a streetlamp, banter flowed effortlessly between them. Max's playful jabs and Y/n's sharp retorts created a dance of words in the night air. "Grab the spare tyre." Max said as he used the jack to lift the car up. Y/n nodded and ran over to his car, trying to lift it but finding it difficult due to it basically being in a casing. "Oh don't tell me you can deal eith G-Force but can't lift a tyre!" Max joked as he heard Y/n struggling. Y/n scoffed, attempting to lift the spare. "I'd like to see you do this!" Challenge accepted, Max agreed to swap places with her. "Alright." Max stood up and walked over to the boot, lifting it. It seemed so easy when he did it. He smirked and began rolling the tyre over to her car.

Between lug nuts and tyre irons, they discovered shared interests and common ground. The tension of rivals shifted to the camaraderie of allies. As the tyre spun off, Max teased. "Maybe you should consider keeping a pit crew in your boot." Max joked. Laughter echoed across the quiet road as they exchanged stories, the rivalry softening into a genuine connection.

Underneath the star-studded sky, Max and Y/n shared a moment of understanding. She reminded him him much of himself when he was younger; stubborn and determined. The tire replaced, Max couldn't resist a teasing grin. With the tire securely in place, Y/n turned to her teammate. "I never thought I'd say this, but thanks, Max. I guess you're not as unbearable as you seem." Y/n smiled. "Guess I'm not your worst teammate after all." He remarked. Y/n, rolled her eyes. "Don't let it get to your head, Verstappen." She mumbled. Max winked, playfully nudging her. "See, I knew you'd warm up to me eventually. Now, if you ever need a pit stop, you know where to find me."

Their exchange shifted from rivalry to camaraderie, laughter mingling with the night air. Max's hands-on lesson transformed into a Canon event, turning enemies into reluctant allies. "Well, I'll make it up to you somehow. I promise." Y/n said. "Eh, a coffee will do but I'm not very picky about being paid back. I think it's payback enough that you're always behind me in race weekends." Max joked, making Y/n laugh gently. "Touché." The pair walked back back their respective cars, before they drove off into the night, the shared adventure left an unexpected bond between them – a connection forged on a roadside under the stars.

[libraford]

Not to be like 'Karens are onto something' but I mentioned, calmly, to the mechanic that my lug nuts were loose and my wheel nearly fell off, and that the last people to service those tires was them. And 'I dont know how youd like to handle that information, but if you would please double check all of the lug nuts and not just the one being serviced, I would appreciate the peace of mind.'

And this was my bill.

[hanahaki-disease]

You’ll Never Bear the Weight of Two

Hell or High Water - a Percy Jackson x DC crossover

Summary:

“You promise you wont hurt us?” Percy stuck his pinkie out, green eyes staring at the whites of his cowl.

It was comical how big Batman’s hands were compared to Percy’s. The gloved finger swallowed Percy’s when he wrapped around his, and Jason had to hold back his shock when Batman gave his brother a smile. “I promise.”

************************************************************************

“Stay here and don’t come out till I say so, okay?”

Crouched behind a dumpster, a little boy no older than seven stares up at his big brother with wide green eyes and dirty black hair. Patches of dirt stain his slightly hallowed cheeks and covered the feeble pieces of clothing they had managed to find for him, his brother wasn’t fairing too well either. His own clothes were baggy over his small frame, baby fat cheeks hallowed too, and his curly hair in a matted, dirty mess. But the blue of his eyes were as bright as the street lamps they shied from, hiding for their own protection from those who wished to separate them.

“But I wanna help! I’m strong too!” The little boy protested.

“I know you are,” the older boy shushed him, worried the outburst alerted any one where they were. “But if something goes wrong, I don’t want you to be taken too. I’ll only be down the alley, okay? So just stay here, Percy?”

“Okay.” The older boy smiled and ruffled Percy’s hair, before making his way down the alley.

It was nearing midnight, the inky blue of the sky was hidden behind the smog that belonged to Gotham, but sometimes the boy would imagine what the stars would look like. He’s read about them plenty, mostly the ones in the library, and he’s read them to his little brother multiple times, but it wasn’t enough. Sometimes, he would drag Percy to the roof of a building and they’d pretend that the lights of downtown Gotham were the stars themselves. Connecting the lights of apartments and offices into their own constellations. And a few times they’d catch a glimpse of Batman and Robin, running over rooftops far away, swinging into a battle they couldn’t see.

Speaking of Batman, a grin grew on the boys’ face as he got closer to the car. This was the Batmobile. The most sought after, coolest car, ever. Taking anything off it and selling it would feed the boy and his brother for a good long while. They could even have enough money for a coat come winter, or boots, or a hot meal, maybe they could splurge for their birthdays and spend the night in a motel where they could use the shower! Oh, the kid could see it now. All he had to do, and all he could do, was to take those pretty and shiny tires and wheel them back to where Percy was waiting with the tarp to cover them.

Hell, he didn’t even need the tire, the hubcaps would work too if he sold it to the right people. But if the boy wanted to make sure they had enough for a while, they’d need the whole tire.

He pried off the hubcaps, wincing when it clanked on the ground, before getting to work. And, boy, was it hard work. He was only seventy pounds on a good day and he was sure the tire was at least half his weight, but he was determined to take it off.

“Jay? Almost done?” Percy’s hushed voiced carried from down the alley, one hand cupped around his mouth as he peaked his head around the dumpsters’ corner.

“I just need one more, I told you to hide!” Jay said back, stepping on the tire-iron to loosen the lug-nut. The other three tires lay beside the car, the shiny chrome twinkling in the street lamp light. The kid was impressed with himself but he was also cautious, Batman could come back any time to stop him and then what would happen? Would he take to jail, prison? Maybe he’ll turn him into CPS, have him be relocated to another foster family. That can’t happen, he need to be there for Percy, who’ll take care of him if Batman takes him away?

Jason has to hurry. The longer he takes to remove the tires is another second closer to getting caught.

“What are you doing?”

Shit.

He turned to face the voice. Pointed ears and the vague shape of the Batman sent a shadow over Jason, making the man look bigger than he was. Though, he was already massive compared to the small ten year old anyway. He was intimidating, that’s for sure, and it seemed like that factor was being wasted on a kid. Shouldn’t Batman be kind to kids? Isn’t that his whole thing, mean to the bad guys but nice to the children he saves? Especially since he had Robin with him.

Either way, Jason couldn’t stay here any longer than he needed to. Forget the tires, this wasn’t worth it anymore. Slowly he got up from where he was crouched, the tire iron falling to the ground with a clang. He faced the Batman with his hands open at his side to prove he didn’t have anything else on him.

“Stay back!” Jason barked when Batman stepped forward, his hands were itching to grab the tire iron. It wouldn’t be much help against him, but it’d be something.

“Where are your parents?” Batman asked again, ignoring Jason’s protest. If he continued pestering him like that, then in it was well within the kid’s rights to attack in self defense, right? After all, it was Gotham. It wouldn’t be a surprise if a little brawl happened in a random alley way between a fully grown man and a child, wouldn’t be the first time either. But it would confuse the passer-bys that it was between a little kid and Batman of all people.

“I said stay back, you boob!” Jason dropped down and grabbed the iron, swinging it into Batman’s stomach before running down the alley. He pulled Percy on to his back before disappearing out the other side of the alleyway. He was NOT going to get taken. No sir, no thank you.

But as luck would have it, which isn’t a lot for the Jackson’s, a week later Batman found them again. They were holed up in a wooden crate. The puttering of the rain against the plastic tarp and asphalt would have usually put the two boys to sleep, but sleeping in their threadbare clothes on a cold, rainy night was sure to welcome sickness. They couldn’t afford to be sick. They didn’t have the money for medicine or warm clothes or a dry place to sleep, being sick meant they could die.

The older of the two watched the cars pass in the street up a head, all them old and rusted. Squeaking breaks and coughing motors, each drive threatening to be their last. Some of the people who walked the sidewalk were the same. Dirty, old clothes trying to catch their breaths, hands fisted and held up to their mouth as they wheezed. A few had cigarettes in their hands as they did that, others a bottle of something, but the ache in their chest didn’t deter them from another hit.

“You must be cold.” Jason startled at the familiar voice. Batman was just outside their create, leaning over to catch Jason’s attention. His cape draped over his shoulders and covered his body, his white eyes and jaw were the only thing visible.

“We don’t need anything from you,” Jason snapped and tucked Percy behind him, waking the little boy up a little.

“I could get you both a hot meal and a safer place to rest, if you’d like?” Batman offered, not once flinching at the scared and angry glare from Jason.

“Why? So you can drop us off at CPS later? No thank you, we’re fine,” He answered, holding tight to Percy behind him.

“I won’t if you don’t want to,” Batman answered.

Jason hushed his little brother when he gasped in awe behind him. Of course he’d be impressed, it was Batman. But Jason was old enough to recognize a creep when he saw one. He’s had to…work with a few to scrape by a few times. He couldn’t trust him fully, because even though it was Batman, and Batman didn’t hurt kids, there was still a guy under the mask. There was still a normal (or as normal as one could be dressing like a bat every night) person who went to bed and ate normal food and bled red like he does. And that is what scares Jason.

A normal guy could do so much, they were capable of anything. And while Jason doesn’t really care about what happens to him, he doesn’t want anything happening to Percy. He was only seven. He should be able to somewhat resemble a normal childhood.

“I wont hurt you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Percy slipped out from behind him and Jason was too slow to stop his kid brother. The rain streaked the dirt on his cheeks and made the too big, too thin shirt he wore sag and cling to his little body. The waves in his hair seemed to spring back to life when the water hit him, the glow in his tanned skin a little brighter despite it being night. He walked up to the Batman, little hands fidgeting in nervousness, and he startled back when Batman dropped down to his height.

“You promise you wont hurt us?” Percy stuck his pinkie out, green eyes staring at the whites of his cowl.

It was comical how big Batman’s hands were compared to Percy’s. The gloved finger swallowed Percy’s when he wrapped around his, and Jason had to hold back his shock when Batman gave his brother a smile. “I promise.”

************************************************************************

I had this idea brewing in my head since, like February and I had read almost all of the PJO/DC fics on ao3 andd I was like “y’know what? Lemme make my own”

So here we are.

Also, I’ve been meaning to put this on here anyway, and I just kept forgetting….

Asks are open if you have any questions!!

Hanahaki <3

Masterlist | Next | ao3

[noblesixjm04]

A Worm

Fredrick-104

While out in the field. Fixing the wheel on the Worthog.

Reader: "Hey Fred?"

Fred-104: *Hums in response. Keeping watch over the open field as he holds the Worthog up so that you could fix the wheel.*

Reader: *Pausing from loosening the lug nuts.* "Would you still love me if I were a worm?"

Fred-104: "I." *He stops. Trying to figure out if all those 'crayons' you had eaten earlier were messing with you.* "Y/n why would you be a worm?"

Reader: *You shrug and go back to twisting off the lug nuts. Tossing them into an old tin cup as you respond. Alibiet quietly.* "Dunno. But would you?"

Fred: *Sighs and stays quiet for a minute as he looks down at you. Your face dirtied and bruised. There's a hopeful look in those eyes of yours. Those eyes that have yet to dull even this far into the war.*

Fred: *He could tell that this meant something to you. He just couldn't tell what. And clearly he had taken to long to answer because you bit your lip and looked away. Shoulders hunching towards your ears as you went back to the busted tire.*

Reader: *You were a little embarrassed now. Maybe all of your dumb questions were now catching up to you with this one. Maybe Fred had just hit his limit with your shenanigans. Either way.* "Nevermind. It was a dumb-"

Fred: "Yes." *Something in his chest burned when you looked up at him. A grin so wide it was a wonder how your cheeks didn't hurt.* "I'd keep you in my pocket. Now pull the tire off. This is getting heavy."

Honestly he couldn't fight of his own smile on the way back. Your own bright grin almost blinding the entire way there.

Linda-058

The two of you had been meditating. Well. Linda still was. You were laying on the floor with your head in her lap. Counting every breath she made as you waited.

Reader: "Linda. Would you still love me if I were a worm?"

Linda: *Barely opens her eyes. You catch a sliver of green before she closes them again.* "Depends. Did I know you before you were a worm or are you just a random worm that I met?"

Reader: *You think for a moment. Reaching up to play with Linda's dog tags when they fall out of her shirt.* "You would know me before I was a worm. Doesn't make sense if i'm already a worm."

Linda: *You catch the barest hint of a smile on her lips before she's looking down at you. Red hair falling loosely past her shoulders. Her hand curling around your own."

Linda: "Then yes. I'd even have the UNSC make you your own sniper rifle so you could get into places I couldn't."

Reader: *Laughing softly.* "How am I supposed to shoot if I don't have hands?"

Linda: Thoroughly amused with you. Loving the silly questions you'd have for the others and her. The humanity that you would draw forth from them.* "You would have a tail though."

Reader: "Oh ya! Worms do have tails!"

The two of you were in the mess hall. Going over your respective playlists together and swapping old rock music when you randomly ask the question.

Reader: "Kelly. Would you still love me if I were a worm?"

Kelly: *Shrugging. Fred had told her about your strange question a couple of days ago.* "Ya."

Reader: *Beaming.* Really?"

Kelly: *She thinks its cute the way your hands patter against the table in your excitement. The grin on your face and the way your laugh sounds as it spills from your lips.* "Yep. Maybe we could get you some Spartan armor. Then you could be the strongest worm in the universe." *She nudges your foot with hers beneath the table.* "You could give the Hunters a run for their money."

Reader: *You snort a laugh. Adding on a led zeppelin song to the playlist.* "Now you're just messing with me." *You wave a finger at her. Laughing as you do so.*

Kelly: *She smiles. Picking an apple off her tray and handing it to you.* "Maybe. Now here. Eat."

Reader: *You look at her. Dead pan as you hold the apple, your elbow on the table as you look to it then her.* "Is this because of the worm thing?"

John-117

You had just finished training with John. You were tired, sore, and sitting cross legged on the floor. You were curled over your water bottle as you waited for John to finish up.

John-117: *Unwinding the wraps from his hands. Sitting on the floor across from you. Waiting for you to catch your breath before beginning your stretches.*

Reader: *You were regulating your breathing. Watching as John unwrapped his hands. The movements were methodical. Almost mechanical in their familiarity with the action. Slowly, more and more of his paled, scared skin was shown to you.*

Reader: *Your own still wrapped hands tighten around your bottle. You could feel your heart flutter in your chest as you open your mouth.* "Hey Chief?"

John-117: *Hums to let you know that he is listening. Moving to unwrap his other hand.*

Reader: "Would. Would you still love me if I were a worm?"

John: *Stops altogether. Blue eyes pinning you down. Searching over you. He sees your near death grip on your bottle. Could hear the hitching of your breath. See's the way your chin ducks down into your chest.*

John: "Why would you be a worm?"

Reader: *You glance away and shrug your shoulders. Feeling a little silly now.* "Dunno. Just am." *You begin to unwrap your hand. Trying to search for something to do besides stew in your own emotions.*

John: *Finishes unwraping his and begins to help you with yours. He knows you didn't need it but still.* "How did you become a worm?"

Reader: *You shrug your shoulders and try to will your shaking hands to still.* "Dunno." *You watch as John soothes your first freed hand. Feeling comfort from it and his calloused fingers trail against your palm. Feeling comfort from his steady warmth.*

Reader: "Does it matter?"

John: *He was trying to calm you in one of the few ways he knew how. That by being close to you and letting you move, work with your hands, allowed to to speak more easily.* "It does. I'd want to know how to turn you back. The universe is dangerous for a worm."

Reader: *You don't say anything for a moment. Mulling over your thoughts as John guided you through the first of your stretches.*

Reader: "Would you still love me though?"

John: *Pauses in what he's doing. One of his large hands is still pressed to your back. Moving upwards as you sit upright. Its steadying. Grounding as you look up at him.*

John: "I would find a way to turn you back." *His chest hurts when your face falls. He sighs a breath when you let out a soft 'oh'. And look away.*

John: "Look at me." *He's still kneeled down next to you so he moves to sit instead. It almost hurts him when you do look at him. Eyes glossy and he could tell that you were biting the inside of your cheek.*

Reader: "Ya Chief?" *Your voice is tight. You don't know why this mattered so much to you but it did. The others would be ok if you were a worm. Why not John?*

John: *Softly bumps you chin with his knuckles.* "I'd change you back from a worm because I would miss you."

Reader: *You tilt your head. Confused. Mainly because that wasn't the question.* "What do you mean?"

John: *Looks over your shoulder. Surveying the room before turning his attention back to you.* "Worms don't talk. Worms don't ask the questions you do." *Worms don't fill that empty spot in his chest like you do. The thought of losing you. Just the thought.*

John: *Taps a finger against your cheek.* "And worms don't care if people love them." *And oh how his heart burns when you cry. Brushing away the tears before more could form.*

John: "I would find a way to turn you back."

I love you how you are.

[drivinmeinsane]

{ Under Pressure }

※ Driver (solo) ※ { masterlist } ※ { ao3 } ※

※ Summary: Driver is feeling under the weather. Blaming the oppressive Los Angeles heat for the tightness in his chest, the mechanic leaves in the middle of his shift to try to recover only to receive a shock when it turns out to be something that he should be utterly incapable of. ※ Rating: 18+ for explicit mature content. ※ Content/tags: Male Lactation, Lactation Kink, Premature Ejaculation, Cumming Untouched. ※ Word count: 1,666 ※ Status: Oneshot/complete ※ Author's note: n/a

Time is going by painfully slowly. Every movement is laced with discomfort, and Driver can hardly focus on his work. His chest has felt tight since he left his apartment this morning. Each movement serves to agitate it.

The mechanic is in the midst of removing the last lug nut on a customer’s car when he feels something slide down his torso. He’s been flushed and sweating since he started work, so he thinks little of it. Summers in Los Angeles are hot and it is certainly warm in the open air of the garage. Exertion combined with whatever is wrong with him must be taking a toll. He feels unusually sticky beneath his layers.

“You look like shit, kid.” Shannon comments, catching the distressed eyes of his employee.

He shrugs in response, setting the impact driver aside on the cart alongside the rest of his tools and the displaced lug nuts. What is there to say? Shannon’s right. Driver knows he looks like a wreck and he sure feels like it too.

“Look…” The other man sucks his teeth thoughtfully, “Get that tire set off to the side and just get outta here. Go home. Get some rest. I don’t want to catch whatever illness has you looking like that. Damn.”

Driver doesn’t have it in himself to argue. He pulls the tire off the hub and drops it onto the floor beside the tool cart with a grunt. The action provokes another round of unexpected moisture to slick down his torso. He doesn’t return the other mechanic’s goodbye wave as he hurriedly walks past him towards his own vehicle. He doesn’t usually appreciate Shannon’s meddling, but occasionally, the older man is right.

Making contact with the steering wheel of the Malibu sends his head thudding back against the headrest as he tries to control the sudden flare of something in his gut. Pulling the seat belt over his sensitive chest and feeling it tighten into place when he buckles it has him gritting his teeth. He can’t put a finger on the sensation he’s feeling. It’s almost as though his skin feels too tight, too hot. The drive back to his apartment is immensely unpleasant. He flexes his hands over and over on the steering for the entire journey.

───※ ·❆· ※───

The first thing that Driver does when he gets home after closing the door behind himself is strip off his work button-up and toss it onto the kitchen counter with his keys. He wrestles himself out of his socks and boots before he makes his way to the bathroom and fumbles for the light switch. The minute the bulbs come to life with a buzz, he’s confronted with the sight of himself in the mirror. His undershirt is soaked through in some places. The blue fabric is darker from mid chest and downwards. He skates a concerned hand over the damp material, catching the hem of the shirt right above his belt and pulling it up to his chin. He almost takes it off entirely but decides against it. That seems too intimate.

His eyes trail back to the mirror and he freezes at seeing his reflection. He has been feeling discomfort for a number of weeks, ever since he had taken an active role in his neighbors’ lives. His chest has felt larger, each pec more defined than they had been prior. The stunt driver had chalked it up to muscle growth. He has been doing more lifting and carrying lately between increased work at the garage and helping out the woman living down the hall. But this… There is no precedent for this. His nipples are swollen into hard, straining peaks. The veins are more prominent than before, lightning arcs of blue against the pale sky of his skin.

Warily, Driver presses his fingers to his right areola. His breath gets caught in his throat at the feeling. A white substance beads on the tip, teetering precariously. He presses a little harder, giving the sensitive flesh a slight squeeze. A spurt of fluid surprises him. It runs, opaque and thick, over his fingers. Despite his better judgment, he lifts the hand to his face and gives the liquid an exploratory sniff. It smells slightly sweet. Surely, it can’t be what he’s thinking it might be. He brushes his tongue over it in doubt. The substance is rich and creamy on his taste buds. It’s milk.

His mind goes blank with shock. He’s lactating. Somehow, impossibly, his body is producing milk. For a moment, he considers pulling his shirt back down and going down the hall to ask his neighbor for help. She had given birth to a kid. He’s not pregnant, not even capable of it, but she might know what to do. He imagines himself knocking on her door, explaining that his chest is leaking milk, and the thought horrifies him. He can’t do it. He’s alone in this and he has to resolve it by himself.

He wipes the spit-slicked hand on his shirt before gripping the pulled up hem between his teeth. Driver braces a hand on the edge of the sink, he traces his fingers shakily down from his cloth filled mouth and back to his pectoral. He finds the nipple again and gives it another firm squeeze. More milk leaks out, but the pressure underneath the surface doesn’t feel as intense.

Driver searches his mind for any scrap of information that might assist him with this. He remembers going on a field trip to a hobby farm when he was young, before he stopped going to school at 16. Gradually, the memory of the farmer explaining how to milk a cow comes to mind. He cringes at himself for the association but does his best to mimic the instructions he was given a decade ago. He grips himself at the base of the nipple with his thumb and pointer finger, as close to the skin of his breast as he can go. Slowly, he gives it a gentle pull and is rewarded with a steady spurt. Encouraged, he lets go of the sink and takes his other, more tender, nipple in hand. He mimics the milking motion he had done for the other. The relief is immense. He can’t help but relax into it. His skin doesn’t feel so tight over his engorged chest now that he has drained some of the milk.

A deep breath through his nose and straightened back gets him on the right track to start dealing with the problem in earnest. With both hands tugging his nipples between the calloused pads of his fingers, he allows himself to wonder what it would feel like to have someone’s mouth doing the work for him. If he concentrates, he can almost feel the wet brush of a tongue over his tender skin. He breaks stride on one stroke just to feel the milk slick brush of his thumb against the peak. A particularly strong spray hits the mirror. The liquid runs down the surface in dense streaks.

Despite himself, he’s hard in his jeans and can’t help but grind against the edge of the sink, trying to relieve another source of internal pressure. He pants around his gag, jaw clenching. With his eyes lidded, he catches glimpses of himself in the spattered mirror, snapshots of unwilling pleasure. Saliva leaks from the corners of his mouth into the fabric of his shirt. It’s doing a commendable job of muffling his low groans and growls as he milks himself. His overworked nipples are a brilliant, rosy pink from the stimulation. Milk has run down in wide streams over his hands and down his torso, soaking into the fabric of his jeans. It’s hard to tell if the front of the pants are more of a mess from the trickling milk from his chest or the precum leaking from his cock.

Closing his eyes and hovering on the cusp of orgasm, he pushes his pelvis tightly against the sink. Driver lets himself daydream further. He lets himself imagine someone standing behind him, shoving his hands aside and taking over for him. Their hands would milk him dry with expert ease, pulling at both of his nipples, teasing the liquid from his full glands. He wonders if they would rub their own crotch against his ass while they grind him against the porcelain in front of him.

That's all it takes for his own imagination to push him over the edge into a free fall. He curls over, grabbing onto the faucet for stability as he rides it out. The moan he lets out despite being gagged is loud enough to warrant a neighborly complaint, but he hardly hears his own noises over the ringing in his ears. His cock is twitching and pulsing in his jeans. The material is a sodden mess. He pulls the shirt out of his mouth and over his head to drop it onto the floor at his feet.

Breathing heavily, legs trembling with the aftershocks, he tries to rally himself. He grabs the hand towel hanging on the rail mounted on the shower door. He has quite the mess to clean up before he can wash the rapidly cooling evidence off of himself. Breathing heavily, he wipes down the mirror. He does the best that he can in his current state and tosses the hand towel onto the floor to join his discarded shirt. His jeans follow suit.

Hurriedly, not wanting to think about the mess streaked across his skin, he turns the shower on. Not waiting for the water to heat up, the mechanic steps under the spray. The sensation of icy needles raining onto him helps to distract him from his overheated, sensitive body. He feels wrung dry, exhausted. This has to have been a one time thing. Surely, every day won’t find him with his hands on his chest, working busily at his nipples to keep the involuntary leaking at bay.

[buckyrighthandedbarnes]

She couldn’t get the lug nut off. No matter how she tried, it wasn’t coming loose. It was too hot out for this. Wiping her brow, she stood up as she planned her next move. If AAA didn’t take so long she’d have called them but maybe at this rate that was the better option.

An older model pickup truck pulled up behind her own. Sun glinted off the windshield and she couldn’t see the person behind the wheel. Please don’t be a murderer.

The driver’s side door opened. “Hey,” a man greeted, swinging the door shut. He held his hands up in front of him, as if aware she was prepared for battle with her tire iron. “Need some help?”

He wore a long sleeve shirt and work gloves, which she found odd in the Louisiana heat. Sunglasses covering his eyes, what she could see was definitely handsome. Okay, maybe this was better than AAA. As long as he didn’t turn out to be a serial killer or something.

“Can’t get this one lug nut,” she replied, gesturing to the flat tire. “I swear I’m not weak, it was just clearly put on with torque wrench and I can’t compete with that.” She couldn’t help the word vomit. It was just in her nature to over share.

The man laughed, “Not judging. These things can be a pain. May I?” He gestured to the tire iron. She eyed him wearily but handed it over.

He made it look easy. So easy. One push and the nut started to spin. “You just stopped up show off,” she crossed her arms with a grin.

“You did all the work and loosened it for me,” he replied, taking the rest off one by one. “You live around here?”

He smelled good. A mix of soap and a hint of sweat, like he’d been outside a while. She leaned against the fender, watching as he did all the work. She was capable, this wasn’t her first flat. But if he was going to do it for her, she wouldn’t complain. “Yeah, about ten minutes from here. Was heading to the feed store for hay.”

“Cows? Horses? Guinea pigs?”

She laughed. “Horses.”

“How much is hay these days?”

She quirked an eyebrow. “Thirteen to twenty dollars a bale, depending. You have horses?”

He was really making this look easy. “Nah. Worked on a farm as a kid. Horses and cows.”

“Round here?”

“New York, actually.” He tightened the lug nuts back on the spare tire before setting it down on the ground, tightening them to the max.

“What are you doing down here?” She rounded the truck, grabbing two waters from the cooler in the bed.

“Helping a friend work on his boat,” he took the water with a smile of gratitude.

“You’re a good friend.” She sipped the water. “Thank you for coming to the rescue.”

He pulled his sunglasses off, wiping the bridge of his nose with the collar of his shirt. “You didn’t need rescue, just a little elbow grease. I’m sure you could’ve done that all by yourself had the nut not sabotaged your chances.”

He was handsome. Very handsome. Lines of life stretched across his features but his crooked smile was boyish. “Then we wouldn’t have met.” He flushed.

Okay, wow. Adorable.

“This is true,” he held her gaze, “maybe I can come see your horses sometime.”

“I might put you to work. I could use someone with your strength.” He was too easy to flirt with. He had a comfortable way about him. It felt so natural.

“I can do stuff around the farm. It’s been a while but I’m pretty decent with a pitchfork.” That made her laugh. He matched it with his.

“That’s exactly what I need,” she replied. “Thank you again, I would still be dying in the heat if you hadn’t come by.”

“Lucky chance.” He extended his hand, “Bucky.”

“Rachel. Nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure is mine.” They shook for moment and she could feel the roughness of the gloves against her palm. She wondered what his hands felt like and then laughed at herself inside.

“Well maybe I’ll see you around,” she pulled away, reluctantly stepping away. She could stand here all day if she didn’t have to get feed for evening chores.

“I hope so.”

She blushed and grinned as they threw the remaining tools in the bed of her truck. Then they parted, though it felt like he didn’t want to either. “My farm is on Steed Lane. If you ever want to stop by.”

It wasn’t smart to throw her address out like that. But she couldn’t help it. What if there was something there? It had been so long and being a single mother meant she didn’t meet men very often. Especially gentlemen. Which this some appeared to be.

“I think I might. Drive safely, Rachel.”

“Thank you, Bucky.”

[sportsbianism]

replacing my cv axle today and everything that could go wrong was going wrong. couldn't even get the lug nuts off the wheel cause some jackass overtightened them with an air gun. on the verge of TEARS bro. was on the way to a tire shop to get the loosened up a bit when i crossed paths w my gf coming home from the grocery store. she motioned for me to pull up next to her and roll my window down. reached through my window and handed me a little bouquet of flowers 🥹

[advice-go-for-it]

How to change tire, please ✨️

I’ve never done it myself, but I did some research and here’s what I’ve come up with. Ideally, double check the owners manual that should’ve come with the vehicle before following any of these steps.

During this process NEVER PUT ANY PART OF YOURSELF UNDER THE VEHICLE!!!

Please read every step fully before doing them.

1. Make sure you’re pulled over in a safe area and have your hazard lights on. Turn on the parking brake and if you have wheel wedges, use them. A large rock could work pretty well too, if you don’t have a wheel wedge.

2. Some items I’m told should come with the vehicle are, a jack, a lug wrench, and a spare tire.

3. If your vehicle has a hubcap covering the lug nuts, use the flat end of your wrench to take the hubcap off. Certain vehicles need a special tool to get hubcaps off, but hopefully this works for you.

4. Turn the lug nuts counterclockwise with your wrench. This can be difficult, so really put all your weight into it. Loosen the nuts about 1/4 to 1/2 of a turn but don’t take them off yet.

5. Now it’s time for the jack. Put it under the vehicle alongside the flat tire. Usually there will be a specific metal area that you should put it under. Put a small cut of 2x6 wood under the jack if you can, as otherwise it could settle and become off balance. At this point it’s best to check your owners manual to see how to properly use the jack with your specific vehicle.

6. Once you’ve set it all up properly, raise the vehicle until the flat tire is about 6 inches(15.24cm) above the ground. Unscrew the lug nuts the rest of the way, and take them off. Make sure to put them somewhere you won’t lose track of them.

7. Grip the tire by its treads and pull it off. You shouldn’t have to pull to hard for it to come off. Make sure to set it on its side after removal.

8. Put the lug nuts back on and use your hand to tighten them. Don’t use the wrench yet. Tighten them as much as possible with your hand, and make sure to double check.

9. Lower the vehicle back down, but not fully. Just enough that the spare tire is resting on the ground. Now you can tighten the nuts with the wrench. Put your whole weight behind the process, and go clockwise when tightening. Use your whole body to make sure the nuts are on there as tight as possible.

10. You can lower the vehicle fully now, and remove the jack. Triple check that the lug nuts are on there as tightly as possible.

11. The hubcap might fight on your spare tire, in which case you should put it on the same way you removed it. If it doesn’t, store it with the flat tire and your other tools.

12. Make sure to put all your equipment away and to remove the wheel wedges. Check the spare tire’s pressure. Most T-type spare tires need 60 psi(420 kPa). If the tire needs pressure try and drive slowly and get to a car repair shop.

13. Backup tires aren’t meant to be replacements for a very long time usually. Go to a professional to see if your old tire needs to be repaired or replaced, and drive cautiously until you’re able to make the visit.

14. I tried to get information that is as accurate as possible, but I’m not perfect. The best thing to do is consult the vehicle instruction manual, and ask a professional to run you through the steps.

I hope that in the future you’ll be able to change spare tires with ease!

[mirthmave]

Small Jason Headcannon

We can all agree that Jason was very reactionary when he is angry. Even before dying, we see evidence of it coming out during times of trauma and anger. Bruce, being fully aware of it, redirects it to more productive ways - like becoming Robin.

However, I can totally see Jason regressing when angry at Bruce and doing things that aren’t destructive but just annoying as a “healthy” way to deal with those emotions.

Some examples:

- after a disagreement that resulted in Jason being sent home early, Bruce discovered that his all his suits, even the stealth one had been decorated with neon glow in the dark “graffiti”. Bruce only discovered it when he was leaving the cave, turned the lights out and flowers started glowing on his suits.

- his smoke bombs were replaced with glitter bombs. He only discovered it when he was doing some upgrades and one went off in his face. He was finding glitter in his hair for weeks.

- Jason gave Bruce’s number out to multiple women at a gala event telling them “his dad was shy but he thought they were pretty”. Bruce was very confused when a friend of his mothers called to tell him she was flattered but still married. Call her after the funeral.

- After a very bad argument that resulted in a grounding, Bruce came home to find that Jason had removed all the tires from all the vehicles, hidden them around the cave and that a lug nut from each wheel of the Batmobile was missing from the ones he found in each of his shoes. To this day Bruce has never found those lug nuts but ever Robin before and after him knows that they are hidden in the shoes of Jason’s old stealth suit that got retired after his death.

[lifethroughfingertips]

I don’t understand why everything has to be so complicated all the time. I’m at a point where I don’t even want to try because things keep going wrong every single day. I just crave simplicity. I want to be on a beach with no worries for just a little bit.

Like two days ago I was driving and the wheel just fucking came off. No lug nuts. Just BOOM. Had to get it towed. Will have to get it fixed. Also needs new breaks and shit.

Tried to go on my FIRST BIKE RIDE THIS SUMMER and I feel like the tires won’t pump right. Cause I don’t have a fancy pump for this kind of bike. So I’m like all worried if I go too far on it with the tires too flat I’ll fuck it up. So it feels like I need to take the bike to the shop to make sure it’s functioning.

I just can’t afford to live. I had so much fun for my Fourth of July party but then it’s like wooooosh back to reality. I can’t just have fun cause there’s so much to do and money to make and things to fix. I’m so frustrated.

Sorry to be whiny I just like to talk through things when I’m feeling panicky and sad.

[forgeline]

High-tech meets high-style; we bring you the new Forgeline forged  monoblock NW105 5-Lug Beadlock.

The NW105 5-Lug Beadlock wheel is very similar to our high-tech NW105  5-Lug forged monoblock wheel with one big exception: It has been  re-engineered to include a special bolt-on outboard beadlock ring that,  like the wheel itself, is also precision-machined from forged 6061-T6  aluminum. This forged aluminum ring holds the tire securely in place, to  limit unwanted tire slip against the wheel, and to keep the tire from  unseating, at very high speeds. The forged beadlock ring is secured to  the wheel with a series of 21 standard lightweight titanium bolts.

Forgeline’s new One Piece Forged Monoblock NW105 5-Lug Beadlock wheel  is available to order immediately in 17, 18, and 19-inch diameters in a  range of widths and custom offsets & fitments. Upon request, it can  be engineered to work with shank-style lug nuts. And just like any  Forgeline wheel, the NW105 5-Lug Beadlock is available with fully  customizable finish options.

Learn more about the NW105 5-Lug Beadlock (including sizes and pricing) at: https://forgeline.com/wheel/nw105-5-lug-beadlock

🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸

[kleenex-tissues]

Just a Jason Todd character study I’m working on

—

Jason is cold and hungry and angry, and the man who he sat and prayed would save him every night is flying above the streets of Gotham, not a care in the world. Jason is more than angry.

So he pulls the tire iron he keeps tucked underneath his makeshift bed and sets off to the alley Batman came from. He puts the iron to the wheel of the Batmobile, desperate to get back at the man who never came to his rescue.

A shadow looms behind him as he struggles with the lug nuts. He knows it’s Batman. He should be washed over with fear, but all he feels is rage. He turns, tire iron in hand, and goes to strike.

But Batman’s hands rest on his shoulders to hold him back. Even through the gloves, Jason feels the warmth — a warmth he hasn’t know since his dad went to prison and his mom stopped playing with him.

She use to kiss his head before putting him to bed and make soup when he was home with a fever. Her hands were always so warm, just like this, and suddenly he’s crying. Wet, hot tears stream down his face and he sobs into Batman’s chest.

There’s surely snot on his suit, but Batman doesn’t leave. He wraps his arms around the boy and holds him tight. It’s warm and for the first time in a long time, Jason is safe. He feels it down to his bones and the steady melody of his heart, beating ‘safe, safe, safe.’

His anger subsides and he’s filled with grief. He mourns his family and the home he'll never return to, the boy he couldn’t save and the one that finally will be. He’s safe, so he lets all the emotion bottled up in his tiny body out into Batman’s chest, impossibly broad and dense. No fear will make way outside of the comforting arms of his hero, and he’s okay with that. Jason, for maybe the first time in his life, is safe.

[promiseiwillwrite]

ReConnecting the Dots Part 2

Today I sat down in the car, and because I have been taking a break from news and radio, I set my mind on driving and tuning into my Ski lodge and its inhabitants.

I homed in on a decidedly Male presence, and began to sing, as I sometimes do, as an invitation to have them sing part back.

It's cute and stupid, and a thing we've always done. We're all music lovers. It just means different music, depending on who you talk to.

For a while, I had made very clear, strong boundaries about how my others and my gods would not be mixed up at all because it was confusing, and I wanted neat boxes because I was allowed to have certain kinds of relationships with these personae that came from Me, and I wanted to have certain kinds of relationships with the gods.

{Because who the hell do I think I am feeling like loving them is okay.}

At some point, I decided that it was very not okay or right or wise to have any kind of relationship involving emotion or attraction to or with a god.

Despite those things being very much features of my relationships with them for nearly 30 years.

It was a casualty of some gatekeeping here, I think. There were people I respected who said things about how those relationships should be, and should look, so I questioned them when I was vulnerable in therapy, trying and fumbling the construction of boundaries where I hadn't had them Ever before.

Like many things, when it comes to my own well being, I listened to what other people thought, even though it fucking tore my heart out, because what the fuck do I know about well being? I was ready to try anything.

I am historically known to violate my own boundaries and self harm to cater to others. It is cringey as fuck and co-dependent and terrifying because I didn't recognize it easily until I had the benefit of hindsight, and then I used it to kick my own ass up the road and back. I am sure the potential for this behavior still exists in me. But I have made great progress with this. (Thank you, humans of Tumblr)

One of the Main reasons I decided to Integrate the other people in my head was that I relied very heavily on them for positive social feedback and affection. I was very skeptical of my friends and co-workers and relationship partner. I didn't think any of them really wanted me, despite strong evidence to the contrary. I had a hard time seeing signs from real people, because I wanted and expected the signs and feedback that the people in my head had been giving me. It was not healthy. It turned me inward in a way that was making me miss some of the best things in my life. And I was aware it was happening, and the dissonance was incredibly distressing. Because I Loved my others, and felt loved by them in a way that I valued and understood. To turn away from that seemed suicidal.

But there was no way for me to be happy while I went on believing that the people in my life didn't really want me there. No way to keep believing that I was unwanted and that what I wanted mattered at the same time. I had made progress in therapy, and in much the same way you have to loosen the lug nuts on a tire in a certain pattern, I had to work on different aspects of my inner world in a pattern, so the whole thing could change gradually, and I didn't have to tear the whole wheel off the axle. Our stories and truths lean on one another. They are interdependent.

I have digressed... But pointfully.

I wound up in the arms of what I thought for a moment was Rath. But it turns out it was more complicated than that.

A moment later, I thought it was Loki.

And of course, they had Words for me.

Words about me being pretty graceful here lately, and me needing to be really fucking graceful here in a second.

And he then informed me that it was in fact the combination of Loki, Rath and Altherion.

This isn't a historically usual arrangement.

And it represents a direct violation of the Agreement I thought I had with Loki.

But There isn't any way it could be some kind of consent violation from the other two entities in question. They would be strong enough to say no if they meant no.

They pretty much had to be on board for the operation.

I had gone within with the expressed intention to try to feel into one of them. I had intentionally sought to connect, to understand why they were disconnected, and to figure out what I could do to re-connect.

And here I was confused and a little pissed instead. Definitely Not very graceful.

But I breathed, and tried to notice my feelings. There were an awful lot of them.

I WANTED them. I wanted to feel connected with them. But I also felt stubborn and a little mad. I also felt afraid, like it could just go badly, and I didn't know what it all meant. I was also mad at myself for wanting this, like I was judging my emotion as soon as I had acknowledged it was even there, as "not helpful".

I wasn't supposed to have or want this kind of thing for or with my gods. They were supposed to be over there in the safe god box that won't make other people angry.

I am not sure you could put Loki in a box. You'd Definitely have to get him drunk first.

Rath was one of my first experiences of self love. I knew why I felt the way I did about him... But I still have trouble feeling worthy of him, of that, because of things that happened a long time ago, and the judgements I have made about myself and those events. I pushed him away because I thought I had treated him badly, back when repair did not exist.

And Altherion is an Excuse to have a beautiful godlike twink introject wandering around my subconscious, exploring my most private thoughts and kinks. He's like some glorious self-created version of Loki that let me Have Loki in a very personal way that made more sense than having a God come to live in my mind. He went by the name Loki for a very long time, and it took a Long time for me to un-tangle who was who and what was what.

He didn't let me go.

I sat with my confusion, and mild distress.

Finally, I couldn't sit anymore and said what was on my mind, the doubt that made me place the boundary about relationships with gods in the first place. I asked why any god would want this.

He implied that I had implied he wasn't capable, which wasn't kind or realistic.

He said "Because we are all the same. I want this because our Stories are One, and there is no difference between any of us." I knew his statement included all four of us.

This echoes some stuff I kind of still believe about souls and energy and animism and the whole "you, me, rock and tree" notion that we're all made of atoms and charges and forces.

I was like "Yah. Okay." and I was still squinting, because this belief structure was notoriously suspicious, and possibly prone to abuse.

And then he said some fucking radically disarming words.

"I am here, because of Love and Belief. Because you love me and believe in me. Our Stories connect because I love you, and believe in you." Oh, the poetry, and double entendre.

When someone says something like that to you it is a net too wide to swim around. I could dredge up every scrap of denial and fear I own, and it wouldn't be enough to get out. The sheer, irrefutable truth of the words had caught me.

And I realize now, after the fact, that he was there to Teach.

He was there specifically to show me how to do Exactly what I wanted to do. Because he knew I needed help, And I had ASKED for it.

And I decided to be a little shit about it. Very on brand for me.

I was STILL fighting, but it was with that Inch, the inch I now associate with Theater-girl's Power. The power to separate to create safety. The very thing I wanted to Change.

So How would it feel to not feel this particular bit of resistance? If I took down exactly this wall, stopped resisting, fearing this thing, in this moment, How would it be?

And suddenly they were all separate, standing there in a group hug. And everything felt... fine. Safe. quite. okay. Soothing and done.

Like I finished the first step, and it was okay to stop there for now. Like there was no rush, and that this was a good start.

Maybe I am just supposed to be a system. Maybe I should seek to re-connect, for sure, but maybe integration isn't going to be the outcome.

Idunno.

[sleepy-exe]

Mechanic AU - 14

Kyoutani x f!reader

<< Part 13 | Part 15 >>

Summary: Kyoutani comes into the shop and Tanaka has questions.

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings/Genre: sfw, mdni, strangers to lovers, slice of life, fluff

Part 14: Picking Favorites

Kyoutani is in the shop today with his dark green WRX STi to have his tires swapped over to new wheels. It hasn't been all that long since you put new tires on his car, but the faux blond will be replacing the original silver wheels for a set of bronze BBS.

As he pulls the first wheel out of the box and unwraps it, you stare in awe at the shiny new wheel. "Kyou, these are going to look amazing with your wrap!"

"And the black if I get rid of the wrap." He gently sets the wheel on the concrete floor of the garage before moving on to the next box, taking it upon himself to unbox all of them for you.

Operating the lift to raise his car into the air, you begin digging out your tools for the job. "Wait, you're thinking of getting rid of the wrap? It's beautiful!"

"Well, it has rock chips already on the front bumper and it's not going to last forever regardless," he says, balling up all the paper and bubble wrap from the boxes, "but I have no plans to get rid of it anytime soon."

"Well, good. I like it." Impact gun in hand, and the appropriate socket, you kick a stool on tiny wheels his way, "Ya can take a seat if you want."

He stops it with a foot before picking up the boxes he broke down. "Thanks, but I was thinking I'd grab us some drinks since you were complaining so much earlier."

You perk at that. An offer to feed your caffeine addiction might be the quickest way to your heart, if he wasn't already in it anyway.

"I assume you've got somewhere out back I can throw these." You caught his smooth save at catching one of the boxes that began to slip from his hold.

"Mhm, just stop by Kiyoko's desk and she can point you in the right direction." Turning back to his car, you start removing the lug nuts from the first wheel, "See ya soon!"

"I'll just be down the street." With that he heads out the door and you are sitting your impact gun on the ground to pull the wheel off the car to carry over to the tire machine.

Carefully removing the tire from the wheel and even more carefully installing it on a brand new wheel, you move on to the second wheel, taking your time to not scratch either sets you're not sure what he'll be doing with the old set. Saving for a winter setup maybe? Though if he were, wouldn't you be working on that right now instead?

Having made a pile of old wheels and new wheels with tires mounted on them for the driver’s side, you head over to the passenger's side figuring you can just swap all the tires over first before putting any of the wheels back on the car. However, you only get three lug nuts off the first passenger wheel before you run into trouble.

"Oh, I don't like how that feels." You play around with the impact to see if you can get things to move more smoothly, but no, the lug nut spins roughly and at an angle - the thing is cross threaded, no doubt. "Fuck."

Though normally cool and collected in this situation, you find yourself flustered by the problem. You never cross thread anything. Did you get careless last time? Grabbing your phone, you nervously text Kyoutani.

>> To Kyou: “hope you’re not too attached to your lug nuts haha”

>> To Kyou: “one might be fucked”

Biting your lip, you examine the definitely fucked lug nut before going full send on it with the impact until get goes from spinning off rough to coming clean off with an uncomfortable snap.

"Oh."

With closer examination, you find the lug nut indeed took half the stud off with it.

"Shit."

>> From Kyou: “there's new ones in the back”

>> From Kyou: “brb”

"Oh."

Best to move on and come back to that in a moment.

You're not going to have that fixed before Kyoutani gets back either way.

"Whatcha do?" Tanaka pops in close, eyeing the dead stud. "Uh-oh. Why didn't you use heat?"

Good question.

"Jeez, Ryuu, get outta here!"

Looking around with a hand over his brows like a visor, he asks, "Hey, where's the boy toy anyhow?"

"Oh my- Ryuu!" You bat at him and he squeaks. "Shut up!"

"Hey, whatever. As long as it's not the boss man, I could care less."

You sigh, but a quiet laugh still sneaks out. "Oh, yeah? So if it was Noya or Daichi, you wouldn't be bothered?"

You laugh at the disgusted face he gives you in response, freeing up the last lug nut and carrying the wheel to the tire machine.

By the time Kyoutani returns with the goods, you've finished swapping the tire for the last wheel.

“Got it then?” He asks, watching you carry one shiny bronze wheel with one dirty tire on it to the driver’s side of his car.

“Hm? Ah,” you place the new wheel on, hand tightening the new black lugs for the two of you to admire. You continue while pointing over the car, “That one over there - one of the lug nuts was fucked to begin with. Swear I didn’t do that.” You cringe.

“Hmph. Yeah, someone else’s touched it since.”

Jokingly, you throw him an offended look, but it falls quickly with a nervous tone, “But, uhm, I did technically get it.” She walks over, poking around a stud that’s snapped in half, “Well, this is my bad. The studs' aftermarket or nah?“

“Nope.”

Nodding again, you walk off, “I probably have a new one. Be right back.”

"Where should I put your drink?"

That stops you in your tracks. Trotting back over to him, you take the offered energy drink and several thank you's spilling from your lips as you run off with your beverage. Kyoutani grins softly at you before checking out his ride.

Returning with a new stud in hand, you spot two more wheels on the car than when you left and Kyoutani moving the last to sit on the ground nearby. "Ah! You don't need to be doing any of it!"

He raises a brow at you. "Okay."

"Anyway. 'Have a stud. I'll swap it out real' quick and get your car done. Hopefully you weren't in a hurry to get out of here." You rub your neck shyly.

"Not with you being here," he says cooly.

What's that supposed to mean??

"Alright then," you say as if you're completely unbothered. "I'll get to it."

With Kyoutani long gone and your next appointment running late, you take some time to clean the garage. It really is getting to be quite a mess.

Dumping used oil filters in an old oil drum, picking up soiled rags, tossing random garbage littering the ground. Every little thing helps, and things have really piled up with the whole shop being as busy as it has been. No one has been taking the appropriate time to pick up after themselves.

You're sweeping dirt and junk from all over the garage into your temporarily empty bay when Tanaka abandons his work to bother you instead.

Grease stained arms and hands cross over his equally stained chest as he stands over a dirt pile. “Where’d you get all that from?”

You gesture vaguely around you, "Here.”

“Now, you're supposed to just not look at it.”

“Oh, okay." You grin at your friend who's apparently very much tired of working on the same engine harness job he started five hours ago. At least Keishin pays well for that sort of thing; those can really be a headache. "I'll leave it right here then.”

“I'll go make you a dirt sign," he says, but doesn't leave his spot.

“Just put it on top. Cover it up.” Playing along, you stand your broom against the post of a lift.

“Put some caution tape around it.” He motions with his hands as if he were wrapping tape around an object haphazardly.

"What if I just put a caution cone over it?”

He rubs his chin, smearing black across it in the process. “Mhmm, yeah. That’ll work.”

Laughing, you pick up the broom again and a dustpan to sweep up the pile. Your next appointment should be here any moment, so now is a good time to quit cleaning. The garage looks decently better with less tripping hazards.

Before returning to his own work, Tanaka adds, "So. You two a thing yet? Or are ya just bangin'?"

You grumble lowly at the man for his bold choice of words, and at work of all places. You two aren't the only ones here after all, and you're sure Takinoue doesn't want to hear about who you sleep with in your spare time. Not to mention, it could be pretty awkward with Keishin around here somewhere.

"What? I don't even know what to call you guys."

"I don't know. Maybe call us friends?" Busying yourself, you pick up the work order for this car that can't arrive soon enough. A Toyota Corolla coming in for diagnostics and, ah - customer states no crank, no start - sounds like you are waiting on a tow truck then rather than the customer.

"Friends? We are friends. Whatever you two got going on - that's not being friends."

You grin mischievously. "Sure it is. 'You jealous?"

"Hell no," Tanaka exclaims. "He can have your crazy ass."

You laugh knowing he's only joking and truly is happy for you. Tucking the work order under your arm, you step away from the conversation to seek out Kiyoko for a possible update on the delay.

Part 15 >>

Tag list: @cantchoosejust1

[jeepknowledge]

Installing a Lift on a Jeep Wrangler: Step by Step with Tricks - Skyjacker Long Travel Kit

Introduction

If you're looking to add more clearance, improve off-road performance, or simply give your Jeep Wrangler a more rugged look, installing a lift kit is a great option. One of the best choices for serious off-roaders is the Skyjacker Long Travel Kit, known for its durability and high-quality components. In this guide, we’ll walk you through the process of installing this lift kit step by step, along with some expert tricks to make the installation smoother.

H1: Preparing to Install the Skyjacker Long Travel Kit

Tools Required

Before starting the installation, ensure you have all the necessary tools:

Jack and jack stands

Socket set (metric and SAE)

Torque wrench

Wrenches (adjustable and fixed)

Impact wrench (optional but helpful)

Spring compressor

Brake line extension tools

Safety glasses and gloves

Safety Precautions

Safety is crucial when working on a vehicle:

Use jack stands on a flat surface to stabilize the vehicle.

Always wear gloves and safety glasses.

Disconnect the battery before working on electrical components.

Setting Up Your Workspace

A well-organized workspace can make a huge difference. Ensure your tools are easily accessible, and you have enough space to move around the Jeep.

H2: Understanding the Components of the Skyjacker Long Travel Kit

The Skyjacker Long Travel Kit includes:

Front and rear coil springs

Extended shocks

Sway bar links

Bump stops

Extended brake lines

Control arms

These components are designed to increase suspension travel, providing a smoother ride off-road and better performance over rough terrain. The Skyjacker kit stands out for its quality compared to other lift kits, offering superior durability and enhanced flexibility.

H2: Jacking Up the Jeep Wrangler

Positioning Your Wrangler: Park your Jeep on a level surface and engage the parking brake.

Using the Jack: Place the jack under the designated lift points of the Wrangler. Slowly raise the vehicle until the tires are off the ground.

Stabilize the Jeep: Place jack stands under the Jeep to keep it stable while you work. Always use multiple stands for safety.

H2: Removing the Wheels

With the Jeep properly jacked up, remove the wheels:

Loosen the Lug Nuts: Before lifting, slightly loosen the lug nuts on each wheel.

Remove the Wheels: Once the Jeep is lifted, fully remove the lug nuts and take off the wheels.

Trick: If the wheels are stuck, try giving them a light tap with a rubber mallet to loosen them.

H2: Disconnecting the Suspension Components

Start by disconnecting the existing suspension components:

Shocks and Sway Bars: Use your socket set to remove the bolts holding the shocks and sway bars in place.

Brake Lines: Detach the brake lines, being careful to avoid any fluid spillage.

Common Mistake: Not securing the brake lines properly after disconnecting can lead to brake failure. Always use a brake line clamp.

H2: Removing the Stock Coil Springs

Removing the coil springs requires care:

Using a Spring Compressor: Compress the stock coil springs using a spring compressor.

Removing Bolts: Carefully remove the bolts holding the coil springs in place.

Tip: Stubborn bolts can be loosened with a bit of penetrating oil.

H2: Installing the New Skyjacker Coil Springs

With the old springs removed, it's time to install the new ones:

Positioning the Springs: Place the new Skyjacker coil springs in the same location as the old ones.

Ensure Proper Alignment: Check that the springs are seated properly to avoid future alignment issues.

H2: Installing the New Shocks

The Skyjacker kit comes with extended shocks for added suspension travel:

Bolt Installation: Install the new shocks using the provided bolts.

Adjusting the Shocks: Fine-tune the shock placement to ensure a perfect fit for your desired ride height.

H2: Adjusting the Control Arms

Control arms play a key role in ensuring the vehicle’s suspension is properly aligned:

Adjust for Ride Height: Use the adjustable control arms to set the ideal ride height for your Jeep.

Fine-Tuning Alignment: Double-check alignment after installation to prevent uneven tire wear.

H2: Installing Extended Brake Lines

Installing extended brake lines is crucial for safe driving post-lift:

Remove the Stock Lines: Carefully detach the old brake lines.

Install the New Lines: Use the supplied hardware to secure the extended brake lines.

H2: Reattaching the Sway Bars

Reattaching the sway bars is key for stability:

Reinstall the Sway Bars: Use a torque wrench to tighten the bolts.

Double-Check Stability: Ensure everything is securely fastened before moving on.

H2: Installing Bump Stops

Bump stops prevent the suspension from compressing too much:

Positioning the Bump Stops: Install the bump stops at the designated points.

Secure Them Properly: Tighten them securely to avoid future issues.

H2: Final Adjustments and Inspection

Once everything is installed, do a final check:

Torque Specifications: Make sure all bolts are tightened to the manufacturer’s recommended specs.

Check Alignment: Ensure your suspension components are properly aligned.

H2: Test Driving the Lifted Jeep

After installation, take the Jeep for a test drive:

Test for Proper Suspension Travel: Take the Jeep on uneven terrain to test the suspension.

Listen for Noises: Pay attention to any unusual sounds during the drive.

Conclusion

Installing a Skyjacker Long Travel Kit on your Jeep Wrangler is a great way to enhance its off-road performance and aesthetics. By following these steps and tips, you’ll ensure a smooth installation process and enjoy the benefits of a lifted Jeep for years to come.

FAQs

How long does it take to install a Skyjacker Long Travel Kit? Typically, it takes about 6-8 hours for a DIY installation.

Is it necessary to extend the brake lines? Yes, for a lift over 2 inches, extended brake lines are essential to ensure safety.

**How much lift does the Skyjacker Long Travel Kit provide

?** It offers between 4 to 6 inches of lift, depending on your Wrangler model.

What tools are essential for this installation? A jack, spring compressor, and torque wrench are the most important tools.

Can I install the Skyjacker kit on other Jeep models? The kit is designed specifically for Jeep Wranglers but may fit other models with minor modifications.