#Car Wiring Repair

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[m1autorepair]

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[ralfmaximus]

A Tesla driver has brought his wife's Model 3 in for servicing because the power steering ceased operating after the car went over a normal speed bump. The service manager (note that Tesla, unlike other car manufacturers, owns and operates all of its dealerships, so the workers there are Tesla employees) identifies the culprit: A system component has become corroded—probably, he says, because the car went through a car wash. The repairs will cost $4,400. The driver observes, reasonably, that he has never heard of a car's wiring being damaged by simply taking it through a car wash.

Reuters did a huge receipts-padded article on the grifting operation that is Tesla, that they have been knowingly selling shoddy, defective, dangerous cars. Then, when those shitty cars break within the first few hundred miles, Tesla blames the owner for "abuse" and won't honor the warranty.

[loomis5992]

Ford Fairlane Wiring Harness Installment Part 1

[auroralwriting]

clean 1

tfatws! bucky barnes x stark! reader (no use of y/n)

after the fight with john walker, you can tell bucky's arm was bothering him. so, you make a trip to see him.

word count: 1.6k | warnings: strong language, multiple parts, part two

Your suit was practically scarp metal after the fight with John Walker. He had tried his hardest to absolutely obliterate your suit. Thankfully, Tony had done a great job of designing it. With a few hours of repairs, it would be good as new.

The one thing you worried about was Bucky's arm, specifically the metal one. You saw how Walker had thrown Bucky across the room into wiring, causing it to shock Bucky's whole body. It made you uneasy to think about wether or wether not the arm was in tact, that and the fact that if it wasn't, it could very well lead to a lot of pain for Bucky.

So, using Friday, you found Bucky's new address. He'd taken residence in a small apartment in Brooklyn, thankfully, not too far from where you were reclaiming the Stark Tower. One car ride later, and you stood outside Bucky's apartment feeling more nervous than you thought you would be.

While Bucky and you weren't on bad terms, it was fair to say he was still uneasy around you. I mean, he had killed your parents, and your only living relative (minus the small Morgan) was also dead. You'd been a baby when The Winter Soldier killed Howard and Maria, so how could there be any bad blood between you and Bucky? You didn't even know what you had lost. That and you were more down-to-earth than Tony, realizing quickly the guilt and shame Bucky felt for his mind-controlled actions.

Using up the last bit of confidence you had, you knocked on Bucky's door. It took less than a minute, and Bucky's surprised face was staring back at you.

"Uhm, hi," You said awkwardly.

"How'd you know where I live?" Bucky asked, confused.

You held up your phone, Friday's screen appearing. "Just a quick scan of all James Buchanan Barnes in the area. Not very many," Your joke fell flat as you stood awkwardly while Bucky processed what was happening.

"Why're you here?" He asked.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay after the fight with Walker." You replied. "I saw you get thrown into all those wires, I saw all the sparks."

Bucky gave a small shrug, "I'm alright."

You eyed his arm suspiciously, "That arm causing you any pain?"

Both eyes now fell on Bucky's arm. You looked back up to Bucky to see him staring at it still. "It's been better," He sighed, his reply honest.

"I can fix it if you'd like?" You suggested. Bucky's eyes nearly popped out of his head at your words, "Or not!" You quickly added. "I, uh, don't want to make you feel weird..er than you probably already do."

Bucky went to move his arm, and you saw the traces of pain etched into his features. "It'll be alright."

"Our fight isn't over yet, Bucky." You argued. "You should be at your best." You took a deep breath in, finding more confidence from deep within, "I promise I won't judge you if that's what you're worried about. I mean, Tony literally had a hunk of metal plunged in his chest, and he made me clean it out all the time, it was really gross and-"

"Alright, alright," Bucky held his hands up. "I don't wanna hear about Tony's gross chest-hole. Just, come on in." The door opened all the way as Bucky walked inside. You trailed behind, slowly shutting the door behind you as you observed the apartment. It was really empty, just a small couch and a coffee table in front of it. The kitchen looked rather bare, too.

You took a seat on the couch, Bucky sitting next to you. You set your toolbox down in between the both of you, putting some space between your bodies.

"I need to see the connection point, if you don't mind?" You said softly, looking to Bucky's covered shoulder.

"Oh, yeah, yeah," He muttered as he hesitantly slipped off his shirt. You quickly noticed the healing scars on his shoulder, all around the joint, but you made sure to pay no attention to them as you hovered your hand over his arm. "It's fine," He said, watching your hesitantcy.

The metal was cool on your hands as you felt around it, looking for the weak point. Once you found it, you grabbed your tools and began to work at it. You weren't used to working in silence, so you tried to make some conversation.

"Steve, uh, used to tell me a lot about you." You said. Bucky raised a brow at you as you continued. "You were his knight in shining armor, or something of the sorts."

"I guess I was," Bucky gave the smallest hint of a smile. "How'd you learn how to do this anyways?"

You shrugged as you grabbed a new tool, "Tony taught me everything I know. Engineering, chemistry, physics, you name it."

"It must've been hard, just you two." Bucky said softly.

Looking up, you shook your head, "Don't start that," You said.

"But it's my fault-"

"For the last time, Bucky, that was the Winter Soldier, not you. I do not blame you, there's no reason to keep hurting yourself over this." You cut Buck off, voice slightly sharp with intention. Bucky's eyes fell on the other side of the room as you sighed, "Tony would have forgiven you, too. He just needed time."

Bucky scoffed, "He had five years."

"Of which we were gone," You countered. "I forgive you for him and myself, okay?"

“Don’t say that,” Bucky shook his head. “Just.. don’t?”

You set down your tool, staring at him. “Do you want proof?”

This gained Bucky’s interest, “Proof?” He asked, voice laced with doubt. “What proof?”

“Who do you think protected your whereabouts in Wakanda?” You asked, “Steve and Sam were on the run. Of course Tony knew you were there. I remember when he got the call. He just sat there for a while, thinking. When we talked about it, he said he was glad you were getting help.”

“What else did he say?” Bucky said with a knowing look in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes, “It’s Tony, Buck. He says anything and everything and means almost none of it.” Bucky didn’t expect you to use his nickname. He liked the sound of it coming from your voice.

“That doesn’t mean he forgave me.” Bucky said.

“Well I do, okay? So stop being such a grump. I’m trying to be your friend, just let me, would you?” You sighed as you began to work on his arm again.

The soldier gave a small sigh, “Stop wasting your time on me when you have a company to run.”

“Stop trying to push me away. Also, Pepper’s helping me run it, so I have all the time in the world.” You argued.

After a brief moment of silence, Bucky spoke again. “I’m still not sure I’m safe to be around,”

The honesty surprised you, making you glance up at him to observe his face. “I’m literally face to face with your arm, tool inside it, and you wanna say you aren’t safe?”

Your comment made Bucky give a small chuckle, “That’s not really what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?” You asked.

Bucky gave a shaky breath, “In Madripoor, when I had to take down those guys when I was pretending to be.. him,” Bucky explained, “It’s like I could still feel him trying to break free.”

You set a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, making sure to avoid his scars. “Bucky, Wankanda said you’re a free man. The Winter Soldier’s gone.”

“Maybe I’m just so used to violence now.” Bucky offered, “Maybe it’s who I am.”

“No,” You replied quickly. “You are Bucky Barnes. You’re Steve’s best friend, Sergeant Barnes. You’re Sam’s friend, my friend, and you’re a survivor. You’re one hell of a fighter, you’re a victim who pushed through all his pain and suffering to become a better man, and that’s exactly who you are.” Your words left Bucky feeling like he could cry, but he just looked away. You didn’t know whether what you said was right or wrong.

“Thank you,” Bucky muttered as you began to work on his arm again.

“It’s no problem, Bucky.” You responded. You silently worked, trying to ignore the burning sensation of Bucky’s eyes poring holes into your head.

"This world doesn't deserve you," Bucky muttered as you worked. You simply hummed in reply, making Bucky's forehead crease. "I mean it, Stark. You're one of the best people in this world."

Rolling your eyes, you put away the last of your tools. "Bucky, I'm just being a decent person."

Bucky's eyes burned with a new passion, "No decent person would do all you've done for everyone you've ever come across." Before you could protest, Bucky's metal hand grabbed your chin softly. "Don't even try to argue, I know it can be hard for a Stark but can you hold your tongue?" When you didn't reply, Bucky continued. "You're so humble, so fuckin' sweet. I mean, you came all this way just to fix my arm."

"And to check on you," Your voice came out babbled as Bucky's hold on your chin was still present.

"I don't deserve your kindness," Bucky admitted, "But here you are, giving me all of it." His eyes bore into your own, his own actions betraying his mind as he slammed his lips tightly onto your own. It took you by surprise, but you happily returned the heated kiss as Bucky's hand slithered behind your neck.

"You deserve all of it, the whole world," You mumbled as you pulled away breathlessly. "The world did you dirty, and I'll be the one to wash you of it." With your words, Bucky felt his eyes water as he kissed you passionately again.

Once you pulled apart, Bucky wiped your lips with his thumb, a small smile on his lips. "Does that mean you're gonna stick around?"

"Yeah," you giggled, "I think it does."

[talekinesis]

I need Stan and Ford to see their mom again

Like let's say she's still alive and in her 80s, she's in a wheelchair (ambulatory, she has customized canes) she still lives in their old home because a part of her hoped Stanford would come back, and she didn't want to leave their home, so he'd know where to go back to.

She wanted to stay put in case Ford came back.

So imagine her shock when both her boys come back home to her

Obviously Stan immediately starts apologizing for faking his death, putting her through grief, her arranging and attending his funeral, but she stops him like "I'd much rather it be fake than real." That's her baby boy, back from the dead, something most people don't get, so to her it's a miracle.

Her Jersey accent is thick, and it actually brings out the twins' accents that had faded over time (Stan's sounds natural to him since he always retained it a little, but everyone finds it funny when Ford's accent comes back because he just doesn't seem like the type to speak like that)

THEY MOVE HER INTO THE SHACK

The boys wanna take care of their mama and keep her around since it's been so long, and Caryn is delighted to be moved out of a loud city with rough memories and into a quiet little town where the people are odd but nice. Ford and Stan both work together to make the Shack accessible for her. Ford actually sat in her wheelchair to test everything and make sure she could get around on her own.

They catch her up on everything, and at first they don't think she'll fully believe them but she's like "Stanford built an international portal and got lost for 30 years? Stanley took his place and turned his home into tourist trap? Yeah, that seems like something my boys would do."

When she learns Stan taught himself engineering to re-build the portal, she's obviously very proud of him. "You were never dumb, Stanley, ya just learned different. Honestly, I always thought ya had A-D-H-D but Pa never wanted ya tested. But look how smart and creative ya turned out, son! I think ya did good." And Stan is definitely not crying.

Personal headcanon: Caryn was also really smart and picked up on things quick. The boys had to have gotten it from somewhere, and it wasn't Filbrick. He just took the credit because 1) he was the worst, and 2) times were different back then and no one would have really taken her seriously. But she's the one who would fix things around the house since she taught herself how to keep the place together and running since Filbrick wouldn't pay anyone to come and repair anything.

Imagine little Stan standing behind her with a flashlight while she fixes the wiring in the wall because an outlet stopped working. Both of the boys helping her while she fixes the car for the third time that week because it keeps breaking down. Mama Pines taught herself how to keep things up and running because no one else would or could.

Caryn meets Mabel and Dipper when they come back in the summer, and Mabel is THRILLED

She's technically met them before but they were still newborns at the time so they don't remember her, and she hadn't gotten a chance to see who they'd become

Mabel makes her a sweater and she wears it with pride. And I really think it would go like that scene from Elemental

Caryn: You made this?

Mabel: Oh, yeah, it's nothing-

Caryn: Nothin? Babygirl, my designer dresses were made by 'nothin.' Oh sweetie, you have got to do somethin' with this skill. And to think, I have an original 'Mabel Pines.'

And don't think I'm leaving Dipper out of this, he gets his great-grandma's attention too. She loves talking to him and listening to him tell stories about the monsters they've encountered in the past. She sees a lot of Ford in him, but she also sees a lot of Stan in him in other ways.

I think Dipper's love for "girly" music is something Stan used to share before Filbrick "disciplined" him for it. Child Stan used to sit in the kitchen with his Ma and sing along to the radio, usually listening to whatever she had put on.

Now all three of them sit in the kitchen and listen to the radio while Stan cooks.

Ford feeling like a failure for putting everyone in danger, and Caryn just goes, "Come talk to your mama." And he does. He goes and talks to his mama, like he always has in the past. She's in her 80s and they're grown men in their late 50s, but she's still their mom, and you never really quit being a mom.

I might actually write a short fic about this, I love it so much.

[squidcalamarium]

FINAL UPDATE

The goal has been reached! THANK YOU SO MUCH EVERYONE!!!

PLEASE HELP MY FAMILY

My parents well has, despite everyone's best efforts, has broken completely. There is a leak in the pipes that can only be accessed with heavy machinery cutting through the woods and into the ground, with an estimated cost between 2k and 3k.

My black disabled dad, mom, brother, and their four dogs all live together on my dad's fixed income, which he gets through his disability. between the general cost of living and the disability savings cap, gofundme is the only possible way they can make enough to get this fixed.

With Georgia's current hot spring, and even hotter summer fast approaching, the need for ANY water is increasing. Because the house is so far isolated, there are no neighbors to rely on, no stores to even attempt to walk to, nothing within 20 minutes by car. we are doing everything we can to make sure, for the time being, that they all can shower and fill jugs of water to flush toilets and cook. this is not a permanent solution. Please help us

UPDATE

After weeks of struggle, a plumber that's actually good at his job came out and did a more thorough check.

Turns out the problem was largely ELECTRICAL!! We have water again! All they had to do was replace the burnt out wiring and protective boxes and buy ANOTHER pump!

Because of this, the goal has been changed to just $1,500 to cover the cost of repairs and replacements!

THANK YOU EVERYONE!!

[imaredshirt]

I'm kinda really into the idea of Fiddleford meeting Stanley before meeting Stanford.

Pretty early on after being chased out of New Jersey, Stanley ends up being chased out of Kentucky and drives the night through Tennessee until his car breaks down somewhere west of Murfreesboro. He gets the car towed to a nearby garage, where a young mechanic takes one look under the hood and says he'll have it ready in a jiffy. All Stan will have to do is pay a few bucks inside, and he can be back on the road in no time.

Sounds great to Stan, except - well, he's broke. He can't pay the guy. He knows this, but the guy doesn't know this, so Stan spends the next few minutes trying to talk up one of the old-ish Stan-vac Vacuums he's got stashed away in his trunk, hoping to give it to the guy in lieu of cash.

Turns out the mechanic is a chatty guy himself, and Stan learns a few things about him: his name's Fiddleford (Stan calls him Fidds right off the bat, and for some funny reason the guy's over the moon about it) he likes building little gadgets and the like in his off time, and he's working at his uncle's garage for a few months to earn some spending money before he heads off to some back-up college in California.

Next thing you know, Stan's got the trunk popped open and Fidds is examining the vacuum, humming and hawing and narrowing his eyes at the shoddy design. The car's fixed up and ready to go at this point, but Fidds is taking the vacuum over to a workbench where he's got a set of tools nearby, and Stan's following him, trying to explain that the vacuum isn't bad exactly, it's just --

"So, the thing doesn't actually suck stuff up," Stan says as Fidds deftly pulls the machinery apart. "I mean, it'll pick up some dust bunnies for a few minutes before giving up, but then it kinda - uh, spits them back out."

"Well," Fidds says, squinting one eye to look into the dust bag. "Aside from the clogged exhaust port on this one, I reckon you just needa fix that shoddy wiring to the motor and adjust the coolin fan. That'll take care of both problems."

"Shoddy wiring?" Stan groans. It wasn't like he was the one who had made the thing. He was only slapping his name over the handle and selling it. "What am I supposed to do about that?"

"It's an easy enough fix ," Fidds says. He rubs his chin and plucks the motor up, looking at it thoughtfully as he twists it to and fro and then adds, "If you want it to perform its most basic functions, that is. But I bet if I tinkered with it enough, I could make it even better."

Suddenly, he's got this almost manic gleam in his eyes, and Stan would be worried if the guy hadn't already piqued his interest. "Yeah? Better how?"

Fidds glances around the corner at his uncle, who's snoring away in a plastic lawn chair, then looks back to Stan. "Better as in it could pick up a dust bunny hiding under a bed on the third floor from the kitchen." 

Stan's feeling a little manic himself. “Pal, as far as I’m concerned, you’ve just made this thing marketable to every single sucker from here all the way back to Jersey.”

Fidds doesn’t have the right tools there in the garage, so he says he’ll have the thing ready in two days. Which is fine with Stan, he doesn’t have anywhere to be anyway, so he asks if there are any secluded places where he can park his car for the night - which prompts Fidds to cheerfully offer up a spare bedroom back at his family’s farm. It catches Stan off guard, until Fidds explains the terms - he just needs to do some chores around the farm from sunrise to sunset, and that’ll take care of the room and the car repair, no problem.

So that’s how Stan finds himself in this little room somewhere out in the hills, sitting in a cushiony bed, suitcase at his side and car parked out under some sycamore and hickory trees. Fidds is at the door telling him what time dinner’s at and what time everyone gets up the next day to start with all the chores, and Stan is nodding, suddenly feeling like he could fall asleep where he’s sitting, even with the mechanic’s rapid-fire twang going on and on, which he doesn’t mind - the guy’s voice is nice. The bed is comfortable. The room is warm and dry and it’s about a thousand times better than sleeping in his car for two nights.

He kicks off his boots and he’s still nodding when he falls back, drowsy and relaxed, and falls asleep to Fidds’s voice explaining how the room’s available for a few weeks, as long as Stan’s up to working on a farm.

Stan wakes a few hours later to a plate of dinner sitting on the bedside table and some banjo tunes being plucked out somewhere outside. He looks out the window and sees Fidds sitting under a tree, sticking his tongue out as he adjusts the strings on his banjo before looking up and waving cheerfully at Stan. Stan waves back.

He wouldn’t mind staying here for longer than a couple nights, he guesses. Working on a farm wouldn’t be too bad.

(Throughout the weeks, they learn things about each other - like how Fidds’s family wants him to marry a nice girl, have a few kids, inherit the farm, forget about computers and physics and college - and how Stan’s dad kicked him out for ruining his brother’s future, and how his brother hasn’t talked to him in months and probably won’t for years)

(and once the vacuum is done, they try selling it together, and it goes well - until the vacuums are so strong that one dummy gets their arm sucked up into it right up to their shoulder, and someone says they lose a hamster to one - not that the dummy or the hamster suffer anything worse than minor injuries, but an angry mob chases Stan and Fidds right out of Tennessee and through Arkansas and all the way to Texas, where they find themselves feeling kind of despondent in some seedy little motel, and then Stan turns to Fidds and asks “Hey, you know anything about making the adhesive on the backs of bandages better? Or maybe just less painful?” and Fidds’s eyebrows shoot up and the manic gleam is back, and needless to say, they spend the rest of autumn being chased from one city to the next.)

[gardens-light]

On The Run

After discovering Optimus Prime in your family barn, normality seemed to briefly throw itself out of the window.

The leader of the Autobots couldn't be anymore in your debt. For as you spend every waking moment putting him back together- repairing and replacing parts of him to the best of your skill.

Admittedly, he almost gave up on humanity. As time seemed to prove itself that they would always look after their own, and protect what's theirs- no matter the cost. Betrayal unleashed it's ugly face to him multiple times, slapping him with the reality that Earth may not be safe for him and his Autobots anymore.

Yet here you stand before him. A warm smile with an aura of glittering hope, burning away his darkness of doubt. It was as though the Universe itself spoke through you, giving Optimus a warmth he thought was forgotten long ago. But he cannot help wander... how far could his trust in you really go...?

Content: Mild coarse language. Events takes place in Transformers- Age of Extinction. (Minor spoilers.) Mention of weaponry. Reader insert.

Word count- 2,800k

Sparkmate Series: Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 (End)

"Don't move like that."

Your hands pressed against Optimus' chest plate as you stood upon the scaffolding.

"The welds are still fresh. Transforming back into your truck form could ruin them- it would be like undoing stitches on a wound."

His Spark burst like small firecrackers as your delicate fingers brushed across his chassis. Jolts of electricity rush through his wires, as your touch run up towards his neck. Heat swept through his metal plates, as you reached up towards his cheek.

"You still need to heal, Big Guy. You of all people should know these things takes time..."

Optimus' optics snapped open. Your touch still lingering upon his chest plate like a ghostly inferred sensation. The memory of the previous hours of the day, playing on repeat within his processors. The haze of sleepiness soon rubbed off, his surroundings becoming faminular again.

His optics scanned the barn, the nocturnal wildlife outside disturbed the still night air. Your small whimpers of your voice caught his attention, Optimus' spark gave a warming glow as he looked down at you.

Engine grease staining your hands, as you curled up upon an old couch. Sleeping peacefully on your side, resting your head in the crook of your elbow.

Optimus' servo touched his lower abdomen, his digits feeling a fresh weld stretching up his side. A gentle sigh left him.

She must of pulled another all nighter.

Grabbing a blanket with his free servo, Optimus carefully draped it along your body. Allowing the tip of his index finger to trace your curves.

His Spark hummed, filling his chest with gentle warmth. Optimus quickly pulled away from you, placing his servo over his Spark.

No. Closing his optics, a heavy sigh left his mouth. Shaking his helm before the thought could permanently fixed itself to his processors. Nothing like that exists. It's just a romanticide idea...

---

"Y/N!" Tessa's voice shouted from the porch.

Stopping mid-weld upon Optimus' side. Gently tapping on the metal sheet, signaling for the Autobot to hold it in place while you pulled down your goggles around your neck.

"I don't like the tone of her voice..." you looked up at Optimus. He saw the worry shining in your eyes. "Hold that tightly, it's only half welded. Hide in there."

His optics followed your pointed finger, "go underneath the floorboards. It might be cramped for you, but it keep you be safe. Don't come out till I say."

Quickly leaving the barn and closing the door behind you. Swallowing down your nerves, as the sight of multiple black cars parked all across the gravel driveway and front lawn. Followed by your dad's truck.

"Oh no..."

A helicopter hovered a few meters away from the house. Disturbing the still air. As soon as the black vehicles parked, multiple heavy armoured individuals got out and scouted the farm.

A man wearing a leather jacket and sunglasses approached you, as your dad came to your side.

"Sweetie..?"

"I donno, Dad-"

"Mr Cade Yeager, my name is James Savoy. I'm a federal agent." Savoy took a look around the property. "My men and I are trying to track down an abandoned truck."

You watched one of the men walk past Tessa. Her eyes staring something in her hands, her fingers playing with the object. You saw her adjusting her breath to a calm rhythm, before looking up in your direction.

"It's a nice spread you've got here." Your attention turned back to Savoy. "Too bad she's up for sale."

"Thanks, and she's not." Cade boldly spoke. "And do you mean that truck?" he pointed to an vintage ute covered in rust, the grass and flowers started to reclaim it for many years now.

"Afraid not... y'know Mr Yeager. We received a call from someone whom is concerned about this truck. That wasn't you?"

You briefly glanced daggers to Tessa's direction. She quickly shook her head rapidly, using her index finger to draw a cross over her heart.

"The only thing I'm concerned about is you being on my property without permission."

Savoy scoffed at your dad's words.

"You know, there's a rule about people messing with people from Texas-"

"And we don't know what truck you're talking about."

Savoy took a step towards you, taking off his sunglasses allowing his narrowed stare to burn into your eyes. "The kind that cost American lives!... Ma'am..."

Savoy studied your firm expression before turning back to his men, "search the property!"

"What? What you mean 'search the property'? You don't have a warrant!" Cade protested.

Savoy glared at him, stepping into Cade's personal space. "My face is my warrant"

You swallowed nervously, trying to keep steady shallow breaths as you watched the men move throughout the farm. Roaming into the house and approaching the barn. Voices scratched over their radios, as the buzz of drones flew above.

Cade turned and looked at you, "what is going on Y/N?-"

"I don't know, Dad..."

His brown eyes studied you, "you sure?... I'm happy to vouch for you but I need to know what it is."

You hesitated before speaking, " I. Don't. Know..."

---

"The fuck is all this junk?"

"A hoarder's yard. That's what."

Optimus looked up at the floorboards, hearing voices and footsteps of the agents entering the barn. Trying to lower himself further down in the cramped floor space, his face wincing in pain as the half welded sheet dug into his thighs. Automatically covering it up with his servo.

"Clear!"

"Clear!"

A groan escaped from an agent's lips. His footsteps retreating back to the barn doors, "there's no signs. We've got nothing."

Optimus rested his helm against the dirt wall.

"Sir! We have a live armed missile in the trash!"

The Autobot's wide optics quickly glanced up back up.

Oh no... Y/N!!

---

"Shit..." you hissed under your breath. Feeling Cade's questioning daggers immediately turning your way.

"I-I thought it was a dud." You lowly admitted. Hands clenched into fists.

Savoy's glaze switched between you and Cade.

"Look! Okay, yes. Yes, I found a truck. All right!" you admitted.

Tessa kept shaking her head. Cade leaned towards you, muttering your name.

"I towed it back for the parts, and left it here on the driveway last night. This morning it was gone." You gazed at Savoy. "When? Where? I don't know- I swear to God. That's as much as I know about him!"

You tried to approach Tessa. Eyes staring at the ground, Cade's voice shouted questions at you as he followed. But Savoy grabbed your arm.

"Ma'am-"

"What?-"

"You just said 'him'." Savoy smiled as your terrified expression told him everything. "Take them down!"

Your heart jumped into your throat. Fear running up your spine, as the agents forcefully grabbed Cade and Tessa, throwing them down against the grass.

"They don't know about the truck!" you protested. "I know! I know about it! Please, let them go!"

Savoy grabbed your jaw, forcefully making you look at him. "What kind of woman betrays her flesh-and-blood brethren, for some alien metal?"

"He's more human than you ever be!"

He groaned, wiping your spit away from his face. Savoy's fist made contact with your face, two agents restrained you by the arms holding you up. As Savoy grabbed your jaw again.

Clicking his fingers, the agents restraining Cade and Tessa pulled out their weapons. Clocking the gun and removing the safety.

"You'd kill my family?!-"

"If I have to. You've got ten seconds to tell me where the truck is."

Cade fought against the agent whom knelt against his back. "Don't you fucking dare touch my daughters! Hurt them and I'll kill you!"

Tears ran down Tessa's face as she yelled out for you and Cade. The sound of a gunshot made you flinch.

"Next one will go through your father's head." Savoy warned. "Now, the truck-"

"I've told you everything I know!" you protested. "He was here, and now he's gone! That's all I swear!"

---

"I'm telling you the truth!" your voice cried. Hearing the pain in your tone made Optimus' Spark weep. "He's not here! I swear! He's not here!"

"Tell your men to back off! Don't you dare fucking shoot my daughters!"

"Y/N! Y/N! Please!"

The cries from you and your family wurld around Optimus' head. Hearing Savoy countdown from ten, as he continued yelling his demands at you.

Optimus withdraw his cannon from his back plates. Clocking it, allowing the weapon to light up and wurl. Allowing his face guard to untuck from his faceplate and cover his mouth.

Let's roll!

Erupting from underground, Optimus opened fire at his enemies. Blowing them out of the way, and reducing the barn to splinters.

"Here I am!" his machical voice roared, standing at his full height. Allowing all to see him.

His Spark pulsating fast as his optics laid on you. Rage filled him as he changed the output of his cannon, firing non-lethal EMP's in your direction.

"Stay away from her!"

You knelt to the ground, using your arms to shield you from the blast as the agents flew away from you. Tessa and Cade quickly rushed to your side.

"What the fuck is going on?" Cade yelled over the comotion.

"Run Y/N!" you looked up at Optimus as his cannon returned to deadly rounds. "They're going to kill you! Get out of here!"

Heeding the Autobot's warning, grabbing your sister and dad by their hands. Running towards the wheatfield on the left of the farm. Two missiles came from above. Turning your once family home into nothing but rubble.

Without warning the sound of a car engine roared in the air, quickly stopping at the bottom of the wheatfield. As a white Hatchback raced down the hill, and came skidding to a halt before the three of you.

The passenger door flew open. "Hurry! Get in the car!" the male driver yelled.

"Daddy! Y/N! Get in the car!" Tessa shouted. Shoving your dad into the front passenger seat, and trying to pull you into the back with her.

"What about Optimus? We can't just leave him!-"

"Stop protesting, Y/N! And get in the car!"

"Perimeter! Optimus moving your way!" Savoy yelled into the receiver of his radio.

Optimus looked ahead. Breathing a little easier, once his scanners assured him you were at a safe distance. Seeing the Hatchback race down the road, a low groan escaped Optimus' mouth as he crouched down. Forcing his metal plates to shift, loud churning noises rumbled throughout his mechanical body, as he transformed back into a truck.

You and Tessa clung onto the roll cage for dear life, as the hatchback raced down the open fields.

"What's happening, baby? Who are these guys?" the male driver asked Tessa, looking at her reflection through the rearview mirror.

"It's the truck!" she yelled over the engine. "They want my sister's truck!-"

"Truck?! What truck?!" Cade looked at you over his shoulder. He turned to Tess, "who are 'they'?" his attention fell back onto the male driver. "Who are you? And who the hell are you calling, 'baby?'-"

Tessa and the driver paused.

"I know you heard me!-"

"He's Tessa's boyfriend!" you cried out.

Cade's eyes widened, "what?-"

"His name is Shane! I saw him leaving Tessa's room in his underwear!"

"What?!-"

Tessa punched your arm, "well Y/N brought home a Transformer!"

You punched her back. "If you're going to tell a secret. At least get it right! Optimus was already in the barn!"

"At least I tried to keep your secret!-"

"If we survive this. You two girls have a lot of explaining to do!" Cade shouted.

You and Tessa slouched back in the rear seats.

Shane bit his lip, hesitating for a moment before speaking. "Mr Yeager, this was not how I wanted us to meet ok?-"

"Introduction later!" Cade yelled. "Just shut up and drive the car!"

Two black cars appeared in Shane's rearview mirror. Putting the accelerator closer to the ground, the Hatchback raced through the neighboring paddocks.

"I'm going to try and lose them in the cornfield!" Shane spoke over the roaring engine, as he took a sharp right turn. Driving down a dirt road, kicking up dust and dirt behind him.

A scream left your mouth, as your wide-eyed gaze saw one of the black cars quickly emerging from the tall corn. "Watch out!-"

"Brace for impact!"

Heeding Shane's warning, you and Tessa grabbed hold of the handles above the passenger door. Reaching out for one another, as the car t-boned into the side of Shane.

Screams filled the car, as everyone tried to shield their eyes from the rain of glass. Forcing the Hatchback off the dirt track and into the tall field, Shane kept surprising control of the car. The vehicle swerved in and out of trees.

The speed chase continued onto the main road. Shane weaved in and out of oncoming traffic, effortlessly changing lanes and avoiding pedestrians. Other drivers bleeped their horns and flashed their headlights.

Tessa scrunched up her face, as the sound of crashing cars piled up behind as Shane drove through red lights. And sped through traffic.

Your heart beat hard against your ribcage. Anxiety and adrenaline raced through your veins. Closing your eyes and placing a hand over your stomach as Shane drifted around a corner.

"Great! Now they're firing at us!" Tessa said as bullets ricocheted off the Hatchback.

You and her quickly braced yourselves against the driver and front passenger seat.

"Man! I don't know how I'm driving so good!" Shane exclaimed with a smile. "It's like, today I've gone to a whole other level-"

"Road! Focus!" Cade shouted.

"Shane! Look out!" he drifted around another corner as Tessa's warning came to him.

Your stomach turned into a sickening knot, "I honestly don't know how long I can hold myself together-"

"Y/N! If you throw up on my jeans. I will never forgive you!"

You looked up at Tessa, giving her questioning eyes. "That's your concern right now?!-"

"Hang on!" Shane momentarily stopped the car. Skidding to the side, before putting his foot down on the pedal again and crashing through an empty cafe.

Exiting through the back alley and down an old, forgotten road.

"Lose them through the factory, Shane!"

"You got it, Babe!"

Racing around the empty car park of an abandoned factory. Swerving around corners and driving through large gaps in the building.

"I thought you knew how to drive this thing!" you shouted, as it appeared nothing Shane did was working in losing the tail chasers.

Optimus' Spark raced through his wires, as he drifted and turned through the factory. His scanners having a hard time keeping track of the little Hatchback. Metal plates shifted and groaned as he unleashed his full height, jumping from roof to roof of the factory in an attempt to keep up with you.

You quickly looked out the back window, as Optimus' voice called out for you. Your eyes widening as he rolled in the way of the black cars, causing them to slam into him and setting alight upon collision.

"Take them upstairs!" Tessa pointed from the backseat.

"We're gonna lose them on the fifth floor!" Shane agreed.

The knot in your stomach tightened as the Hatchback entered a multi-story car park. Your skin turned pale, bracing yourself against the back of your dad's seat, as the car drifted around corners and moved up the levels.

"Do that thing, Shane!"

"You know it-"

"What? What thing?" your panicky tone questioned.

"What we're about to do is gonna be kinda scary." Somehow Shane's tone didn't sound much of a warning, as he failed to hide the excitement in his tone.

Pressing the accelerator fully against the floor, Shane looked at Tessa through the rearview mirror. "Ready, Babe?"

"Got it" she said, leaning as far forward as she could. Grabbing onto the handbrake.

"Three. Two. One.. Pull!"

At Shane's command, Tessa pulled the handbrake as hard as she could. Causing the car to sharply stop, then turn right and continue racing towards a ramp that hung out of a window.

"No! No! No!" Cade cried.

The pit of your stomach lifted during the brief seconds of weightlessness. Until it dropped hard once gravity pulled you back down. A high pitch scream left your mouth, hands clutching into the back of Cade's seat, ripping the fabric. As you closed your eyes tightly.

By some miracle the Hatchback roughly landed on a ramp upon the ground. The two black cars behind you wasn't so lucky.

"You two girls are so grounded!" Cade shouted, as Shane drifted around one more corner.

Churning and clunking noises begun to erupt from the engine. The car finally came to an abrupt halt, as Shane slammed on the breaks.

Smoke begun to leak out of the hood.

"Shit! We gotta go!"

Shane and Cade quickly got out of the Hatchback. Optimus blared his horn, rolling up a few feet behind.

"Optimus!" you shouted as Cade helped you get out of the car.

The four of you ran towards the rusty truck. Quickly dodging the rain of bullets from above. Once safely inside, the Autobot sped out of the car park and raced towards the entrance to the highway.

[some-pers0n]

My favourite thing ever about LITWTC is that it sounds completely and utterly bizarre to anyone who doesn't listen to it. What do you mean that music artist I heard on TikTok has a podcast where he and his friend talk about the apocalypse.

Anyways some of my favourite bits are

Tommy Lasagna, a fully Korean man with a thick Brooklyn accent, will own a fast food combination auto repair shop, wherein he'll mix up your order and put burgers on your tires and serve you a fistful of wires instead of fires

Will getting harassed by a ghost prostitute named Mama Doo-Wop for like seven minutes

Chris and Will stopping their car (they were driving around in this episode) and laughing at a decaying house for like five minutes

Will larping as Tom Waits for an entire episode

Leopard Planet is the only band still left in the apocalypse, wherein the lead singer and rhythm guitarist and Rock God, Zap Gorgeous, will have leopard print clothes as they play on top of a leopard pyramid

Will and Chris try getting their Wendy's order and it takes 20 minutes because the Doordash driver kept circling a graveyard

Will will save Jordan Peterson from the manosphere grease pit (where any manosphere person is greased up and tossed into a pit where they have to kill everyone else to survive) and turns him into a parrot-like pet that he listens to for hours on end

Chris Dunne Won't Go To Therapy I/II

ROLL!! THEM!! BONES!!

Bobby Sugarbones dying because the recording program closed and they didn't notice because the laptop had a picture of Chester Cheetah inflation art covering it (this was because Chris was trying to get Will into the kink so they could fuck the podcast, which is a gutter clown with that kink)

"Yes! And–"

Chris and Will spending an entire episode parked in front of a school because Will's car broke down and they were waiting for the repair guy (yes there are two episodes where they're in a car)

The Bug Woman

[m1autorepair]

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[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

Do you long for having your heart interlinked? (Miguel O’Hara x Ai/Hologram! Fem! reader) Part 2

Hiiii! Part two as promised, not proofread. Once again, heavily inspired by K and Joi’s relationship in bladerunner 2049. And there will not be a part 3, but enjoy regardless!

(Y/N)-Your name.

Cursing, Miguel being all mad scientisty at the beginning , Miguel being a bit of a perv at the beginning if you squint, talks about cutting of synthetic flesh, Miguel being a sad and desperate man if you squint a bit harder , Slight existentialism. lmk if I miss anything.

Word count: 2.2k

Part 1

Masterlist

—

“Miguel?”

His shoulders tensed up upon hearing your voice ring through his office, despite your inability to appear in the room, he always got nervous that one day you’ll end up just popping up in the middle of him working on your physical form.

“Yes?” His voice low, thick with concentration as wipes some sweat off his forehead with a handkerchief he had tossed to the side of his desk. Careful to not bump his glasses as he kept his eyes focused on wrapping the synthetic skin around your left hand, apart from the nails, it was the last bit of your arms that needed to be completed.

“It’s currently 2:24 am, you need to rest.”

“Tomorrow is my day off, I’m fine.” He replied, putting down his black marker and removing the faux skin from around the arm, placing it flat on the table as he picked up his exacto knife and began to prepare to slice off the excess skin. He needed to make sure to cut off the right amount, not wanting to cut off too little and having waste parts he could use on the rest of your body, it was almost as if he was vinyl wrapping a car.

“You still planned on going to HQ tomorrow, you need to rest.” Your words were only met with silence. “Miguel I’ll cut the power if you don’t leave that office of yours and go to bed, you’ll be insufferable tomorrow, you're even more cranky when you don’t get enough sleep.” You scolded him, Miguel’s lip twitched upwards at the mental image of your left hand on your hip with the other pointed a finger at him, your coding making non-existent wrinkle lines appear where your brows furrowed together, and next to your lips as you frown at his inability to take care of his own needs without you to remind him.

“Alright alright…” He mumbled, taking in a deep breath before blinking some sleep out of his eyes, you knew him so well. “Let me finish up, I’ll be out in twenty minutes, tops.” Instead of a verbal answer like he was expecting, he got the sound of your hologram being deactivated. Letting out a small amusement exhale from his nose when he realizes that you were physically waiting for him outside of his office door. How cute…

He was able to finish the arm up in sixteen minutes, placing the finished arm next to the other one, from the fingertips to the shoulder, packing them away properly in a briefcase that resembled those a musician would put their instrument in, he pondered on what part to work on next. Should he develop another external body part? Your legs, your torso? You’d be anatomically correct of course because he knows that’s how’d you’d want to be (and not for completely other unrelated reasons), or maybe on one of your internal “organs”, though completely made up of wiring and metal he wanted it to mimic the human body as much as he could.

“Miguel, it’s been twenty minutes.” Your voice apparently brought him out of his train of thought, making him rush to the door before you fulfill your threat of shutting the power, you’ve done it before on him.

“Alright, alright… I’m going…” he grumbled under his breath as he made his way to his room.

—

“I sent Hobie and Gwen to deal with that anomaly on Earth-A145… Jess wanted to speak to you about training for that new recruit you’ll be meeting tomorrow… and we’re gotten the thumbs up on reopening sector 6 again now that the repairs from last week are finished.” You read off your mini report from your holographic tablet, sitting on the edge of Miguel’s desk as you swung your feet as you looked back up at him. You were always in your smaller form around HQ, finding it easier for your system so you don’t get overwhelmed too quickly or easily.

Miguel replied back in a hum, his eyes trained on the screens in front of him, zoning in on watching the two spider-teens take down a Doc Ock variant pressing his lips together as he tries to keep his mind from wandering, he’s been having trouble with that recently. Letting out a grumble when he heard the faint sound of your screen dinging, internally groaning at the conversation you were both about to enter.

“Miguel…” You glanced at your tablet again, “your vitals are off again, Miguel.” You noted as you tapped around, your brows frowning together as you scowl lightly. “They’ve been like that for the past few weeks… did you want me to make an appointment with your doctor?” You asked as you looked back up at him, watching the way his nostrils expanded slightly as he exhaled out from them, shaking his head light.

“No, (Y/N), that’s not necessary.” He mumbled softly, lifting a hand in the air to wave off the concern, making you let out a huff of frustration, before phasing out and reappearing in front of him with a frown and your arms crossed over your chest. Miguel went to wave his hand through you, it passed through your programming as he silently told you to go away, his frown growing slightly deeper when he realizes that wasn’t going to rid of you.

“Miguel, don't start. Ever since a few months ago when you started to lock yourself up in your office at home, I’ve been starting to worry about you.” After your sentence, the tablet dings again, his heart rate, but you didn’t even glance at it as you look up at him.

“You don’t have to say that.” He responds automatically, his go to respond when you express concerns about him or compliment him in a way a human would. It made his heart skip a beat and sink simultaneously. Despite him overriding your original code, you were still meant to simulate romantic emotions. No matter what, that would always still be attached to you, and it didn’t help Miguel’s rapidly worsening pining for you.

“I know, I want to.” You’d always reply.

If only you knew you were the reason behind your own concerns.

“I’m fine, I promise.” He reassured you in a clam yet commanding voice, his hand going to play with the little metal spider figure on his desk that Peter had brought him one time after a mission. Your eyes narrowed towards him for a split second, before going back to their neutral position, your lips twitching up in a smile, you choose to believe him.

“If you say so, Mig.” You said before phasing away.

He let out a small hum, his lips curving upwards slightly as his eyes shifted down to the metal spider. It would be a nice addition to the metal heart he was about to start building…

—

“Morning Miguel.” The sound of your voice always helped put a smile on his face before he even opened his eyes.

“Good morning.” He replied in that same raspy voice he always did, slowly getting up and out of bed to stretch before starting his morning ritual. Groaning slightly as he felt his vertebrae pop back into place.

“I’m already warming up your coffee,” You said as your coding developed in front of him in your full size, watching as he twisted his torso to pop his hips, before going off to his restroom to get ready for his morning. Today was one of those rare days where he was off from his normal day job at Alchemax, and although he never true gave himself a day off, spending those spare days brooding up in his secluded area up in the HQ tower, watching dozens of screens to make sure that the multiverse didn’t collapse under his watch, but today was special, so he had Jess watch over the society for the day.

“Today’s a special day, (Y/N). You know why?” He asked, sipping on his coffee, as he glances at your presence in his kitchen as he waits for his bagel to pop out from the toaster behind you, a plate already waiting next to the cream cheese and a spreading knife.

You just tilted your head to the side, that once-in -a-blue-moon look of confusion crosses your face as you quickly look over his digital calendar for the day in your internal system only to be met with nothing. Because he purposely left it off, just to see that adorable rare look on your digital features. It was written on a sticky note in his home office instead.

January 14, 2099. (Y/N)’s activation date.

That was two years ago now, exactly down to the day. Miguel finally let out a chuckle when you eventually shrugged your shoulders, waiting for him to tell you.

“Today is the two year anniversary of you being my assistant.” He said as the sound of his breakfast finally popping up, you moving aside to get out of Miguel’s pathway despite his ability to phase through you, knowing how he feels weird about it.

“Really? It doesn’t quite feel that long for me.” You comment as you watch him complete his meal before taking a bit out of the still steaming thing of bread, watching the way the cream cheese slowly starts to melt and drip down onto the plate from the hole in the center of the bagel.

The concept of time to you was a thing you really only understood in theory, it felt like almost… a bubble. On the inside was Miguel, or humans in general. They were born, they celebrate each year when the earth does a full rotation around the sky, they grow up, grow old then they eventually die. Everyday they walk up, usually around the same time, go about their day as they attempt to stick to a schedule before going to sleep. Miguel will leave to work around in the morning, stay till afternoon and slave himself away till tiredness seeps itself into his bones or until you nag him to sleep. Whereas for you, you just kind of… woke up one day for a lack of better words, not how Miguel does though, you don't get tired, you don’t need to rest. Sure, you could overworked your system, you “sleep”, but sleep for you was when you weren’t being useful to Miguel, it’s almost like how you’ve read up how humans experience sleep, expect when they’re minds become free to dream about whatever their hearts long for during their R.E.M cycles, you just become enveloped in nothingness. There is no pitch blackness, no foggy stretch of infinite void for you to wander. Just that, nothingness, and just like humans forget 90% percent of what they dream of at night, you forget what it feels like when you are temporarily shut off. Despite living outside of that bubble of a timeline, you attempted to mimic it when you could, just to indulge yourself from time to time. For him, it felt exactly like those 730 days had passed, to you only a few rips of the fabric of time and space. Time was a man-made concept after all.

Miguel has noticed you’ve been using the word feel more. Despite your lack of a psyche, it felt like you were only growing more sentient by the day with Miguel’s help, on occasion encouraging you to come up with an original thought or opinion when he could coax it out of you.

“It has.” He continued as he finished his breakfast, placing the dirty dishes in the skin and the food items back where they belonged in the fridge. “And, I got you a gift.” Your face returns to that wonder, making Miguel’s lip curl up into a smile.

“You did?” You asked as you watched Miguel leave the kitchen with a response, waiting a moment to see he’d come back, going to zap to his location when he didn't, only to be met with the sight of his office door instead. Frowning as you wait for him.

The frown quickly became replaced with shock when he finally opened the door only to be met with the sight of you, it was you in the form of a robot. You slowly bring your hand out to go and touch it once he brought it through the doorway, your holographic form glitching through your new physical one as you pass it through your face. Bright wide eyes going from it to Miguel as he speaks again, a soft smile covering his features as he looked down at it with pride, your robotic form, eyes closed, head dropped down in front of you and arms hanging loosely by your side, the same way moments before you were first were booted up two years ago.

“You can use it around the house or whenever you feel like when you want to accompany me on non-Spider-Man related errands. Around HQ or during my patrols though it would be best if you stayed in your digital form.” You stayed quiet as your hand ghost over the fabric of your outfit, he even made sure to replicate the one you’d always wore. He cleared his throat as his eyes shifted to you. “Did you want to try it out?”

“Please.”

—

Taglist: @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st

[seat-safety-switch]

Have you ever painted a car? My uncle used to say that you should never take up any hobby that requires you to have a special room dedicated just to it. Paint booths definitely qualify, but you can't really listen to what he says: that hypocrite didn't exactly install his toilet in the middle of his living room. I just use the gas station.

No, painting a car is one of the great experiences in our life. If you do everything right, real painters will tell you, then your car will turn out pretty nice. Unfortunately, one of those "everythings" is "have twenty years of professional experience doing this every day." The rest of us have to tolerate a widely variable amount of crappy outcomes.

Runs, bugs caught in the goop, dirt, stray dogs running by and farting on your stuff. Everything bad is going to happen to you, and the first-time painter is going to get all worked up about it. I get all worked up about it, despite my total lack of perfectionism in every other aspect of automobile ownership, which is why I use a special technique.

Have you ever bought a car from a bad previous owner? Yeah, we all have. Dudes (and it's almost exclusively dudes) who do bad mods. Poorly-done repairs. Strange noises and rattles. Torn interiors. Questionable wiring. And: bad paint. All I have to do is close my eyes (this actually improves the quality) and pretend that some other dipshit is the one painting the car.

Then I immediately put it in the back of my property and forget about it for a year, year and a half. By the time I go to dig it out, I've convinced myself that I bought it like that, and any imperfections no longer bother me because it's some other asshole's fault. I strongly recommend you try this, even if you only have room in your backyard for a mere four or six cars. They do make tarps, after all, and you can reuse them as drop cloths when you try to paint wheels in your bathroom.

[alizalayne]

Hello! this will be a quick process post so that you can see how I needlefelted a fursuit head!

I began by following the "bucket head" tutorial by Matrices, then added a layer of polyfill so that I wouldn't use as much of my merino wool. This is how I typically make a doll head, my "core wool" is often polyfill because it really likes to clump together and fuse.

Overall, this project took about two months of my spare time. This is the first fursuit head I have made, but not my first needlefelt project.

I would really like to encourage other people to try making masks this way! You can do any kind of subtle color with wool and the wool fiber is very cheap. If you wanted to make a fursuit head with the entirety of starry night flowing over it, or a head with tons and tons of complex colors, I think wool might be the best material. I also did not need to know how to pattern or sew in order to make this-- it was sculpture rather than sewing, which I am bad at.

The rest under the cut!

Another angle where you can see that I am building up the structure of the head.

I then made the ears, which are translucent because they're felted, just like real ears!

I wasn't happy yet with the proportions at this point, so I spent a lot of time figuring that out and deciding where and how I'd be placing the eyes.

I made a pair of sculpey follow-me eyes by using a little soy sauce dish as a concave circular mold and tried a foam clay nose and teeth. The sculpey eyes could be more successful, they took a lot of shaving and adjusting to get right and they eventually cracked from the strain I'd put them through while making them more shallow. For a while, I intended to make wefts of white wool to use on the sides of the head, but I ended up preferring a domestic shorthair head shape because it reads the most clearly as a cat vs any other animal.

I originally intended to have the eyes behind clear plastic domes and used "shaker domes" that people use to make greeting cards to cover the eye, but in the end they made the eyes too dull. I made foam clay housing for the eyes and painted it pink with acrylic paint. I used stick-on car window tint to create the pupils. My visibility inside the head is really good!

Finally, after fiddling, one of the eyes was deeper than the other and I had to re-set both to account for it. I added spot glitter on top of the acrylic paint on the eye using some gold watercolor paint I had, which was silly because I'll need to wash the head at some point. I will probably seal the eyes before washing and hope for the best. I intend to spot clean the head until it absolutely needs to be washed, at which point I'll remove some pieces or find a way to protect them while soaking the head in a cool dr. bronner's bath.

I glued down a layer of felt fiber on top of the foam clay "tear ducts" and then felted new fiber over the tear duct skin and cheeks to blend them into the face. I also removed the teeth and closed her mouth because I didn't have time to adjust the teeth as much as I wanted before the con that my friends and I attended. I would like to modify this head so that she can open and close her mouth.

Lastly, I added wire whiskers with little glass beads looped onto the ends and paper eyelashes that I also watercolored and sealed, like the insides of the eyes. Like I said before, it's gonna be a problematic wash, but I'm confident I'll figure it out, and I can always repair her or replace her lashes if something goes wrong.

Last thing, to keep the inside of the head nice and cool and prevent fogging since in the end I closed the mouth and had sealed eyes, I made a snorkel out of a snorkel mouthpiece fitted into two collapsible auto funnels.

I would say that realistically this entire project cost me less than $150. I had some materials lying around, like the wire and the beads and the sculpey.

I added two ear vents on either side of the head so that I had options on where to feed the snorkel out. If you look at the other pictures on the blog of me wearing the head, you mostly can't even see the snorkel mouth. However, it was a little problematic to let go of the snorkel to talk. it would be perfect for a silent suiter, but I'm lucky that so many people wanted to talk to me. I'd like to try and replace the snorkel mouth with something I can talk in, but I'm not sure what to use. It should be something that can create a seal to keep my breath out of the head. it's possible that I will be able to make something with a painter's mask.

I hid the "seam" between the head and my body with two yards of tulle tied into a big bow and sewn down onto the neck so that it wouldn't move around.

I hope that if you try making something similar you'll show it to me!

[bonebrokebuddy]

@kodedgeekthings eyo you mentioned wanting a dpxdc prompt for Howard, Batman’s mechanic!

Harold misses fixing toys for kids and in his off hours has taken up the habit of answering questions on forums about machining, electrical, engineering, mechanics, and mechanical design that are often frequented by students.

One day, he comes across a request by a college student who is trying to assemble his own car out of scrap he bought from a local wrecking yard.

Ghostly_Boy states that he has previous experience in machining and can make replacements for broken or too-damaged parts if need be, but he doesn’t know where to start and what specific requirements he needs to reach to ensure it’s street legal.

Harold willing to help, he answers a few of Ghostly Boy’s clarifying questions:

- Great questions!

It’s good to note that if you’re not careful, fixing or making your own car from parts can be a moneysink and can cost you more than a brand new vehicle. - That being said, your first major step to ensuring you can drive the car is to get the title of the body/frame of the car you plan to build. It’ll have the VIN on a plate welded to the frame usually near the lower edge of the windshield wipers on the drivers side. It’s how the DMV identifies vehicles for licensing.

- Generally, you’ll at first get a “wreck out” title that shows the vehicle is listed as a total loss, but if you can assemble the parts for the car with that frame, the DMV can check if it’s properly running and road worthy & license for you to use it on public roads if you’ve done the proper paperwork.

- Once that is done, it’s largely a case of getting the right parts and assembling them. Depending on how much you have to repair, you could be taking on a task that could give a challenge to even a seasoned mechanic. There may be additional paperwork depending on what exactly you need to repair, like the breaks, lights, steering, etc.

- If you want to build the car entirely from scratch, chassis and all, that’s an entirely different story with a much more complicated list of requirements to make it street legal, so getting a frame from a junkyard is a great first step!

- Make sure to keep all bills of sale, junkyard receipts, invoices and manufacturers’ certificates on any major parts you used in building the vehicle to prove its road worthy to the DMV when it’s complete!

Harold doesn’t always answer first but over time he’s found the adventures of this kid amusing and keeps up with it.

Ghostly_Boy keeps the forum updated with his progress:

The kid spontaneously deciding to scrap the wiring system and make his own in a span of 3 days, leaving experienced mechanics on the forum practically screaming at the kid for his updates showing him using random wires he salvaged and pigtailing them together to get the length of wire he needed.

Mixing not only multiple types of wires but ones that didn’t have the protection needed for auto use. DIY-ing his own relay and fuses he didn’t have and connecting the wrong grounds and switches. And planning on leaving the wires unwrapped and loose.

Leaving Ghost to promptly redo the wiring, correctly this time, within 78 hours.

Making a repair of a massive rusted hole on the passenger side by the bumper and the front tire via cutting 1/2in past the rust, grinding it pretty and clean, tac & seam welding the vintage aluminum housing material of a toaster to cover the hole to the response of Harold and many others in the forum just going “… I guess that would work?”

Harold and many others telling the kid that this “ectoplasm” material wasn’t cleared through the EPA’s Clear Air Act and could be illegal to drive with it as it’s fuel source unless he got the emissions tested & the center of gravity of the car adjusted to have the center of gravity a gas car has, it wouldn’t pass Federal Motor Vehicle Safety Standards. Nor would the previously untested on material make it easy or quick to get an Emissions testing certificate. Best to just stick with gas.

Removing what he thought was a “skid plate” that turned out to be another rusted out section on the frame on the bottom of his car and repairing it with steel he salvaged from an old medical table he had laying around. (To the multiple slightly confused commenters asking how Ghost had a spare medical table, he replied, “eh, my folks visit every so often and they’ve been giving me things they’re clearing out of the house so they can move closer to my older sister. I just so happened to get the ye olde medical table. They’re an odd couple of folks but that’s why I love them.”)

People just crying at the kid to go to rockauto.com and just buy the damn parts he needs for his car. (A good resource btw)

The kid kept cutting corners to save cash but through the badgering of Harold and many others that he actually would have to spend money to make this car be safe to drive in, he finally got it completed.

Ghost’s post of him leaving DMV waving the updated title to the car in its envelope in the air, titled, “THE DMV FINALLY SAID IT WASN’T A FIRE HAZARD! ONLY TOOK 2 YEARS! THANKS EVERYONE!” Got the most amount of responses he’d ever had with congratulations from lurkers and previous commenters.

Over the course of those two years, Danny learned how to draw his own wiring diagrams, properly solder and weld, and learning to actually plan out his projects so he got it right at least the fifth time instead of the 20th. Not bad for a kid that went straight from graduating high school with a 1.5GPA to construction jobs.

But after finally getting the car approved, Ghostly_Boy returns to the forum with a new problem. Lamenting that his parents keep coming over and “modifying” his car to no longer make it street legal.

At this point, about half of the answers to the submission think it’s either a joke project taken very, very seriously with a good chunk of money behind it, or a kid with parents that have narrowly avoided falling completely down the mad scientist rogue rabbit hole.

After all, what sort of parent would think that the DMV would approve to “anti-ghost missiles” being attached to the outer body of the car? Either way, the submissions always had video attached showing a demonstration, proving that Ghost wasn’t just completely yanking their chain. And a good amount of money would have to be sunken in to not only pay for the fines Ghostly continued to get from the additions to his car, but to actually manufacture and make a unique working product for each plea for help request.

Harold is not only taking notes on some of these defense measures but also decides to bring up the boy to Alfred. Intrigued, they together keep an eye on Ghostly_Boy. Bruce may be their employer, but they can handle a case or two on their own.

- I wanted Danny to try to make smth for himself now that he doesn’t have access to his parent’s lab anymore but he also doesn’t have access to ectoplasm so he’s fairly unfamiliar how to wire things Not for ectoplasmic standards.

Also I wanted to make a prompt where Danny had a good relationship with his parents & went into a fairly realistic job after high school with his fairly bad GPA so he’s saving up for a technical school via construction jobs as he doesn’t like the idea of working fast food for understandable reasons.