#Harley-Davidson Oil

[naturalbornworldshakers]

LIVE CHEAP-- NEVER DIE | RICHARD ST. CLAIR'S BIKER "ART OF THE ROAD" JUNE 17th AT TSY!

Richard St. Clair on his 1961 Harley-Davidson Panhead, AKA Queenie. “The bike came to me in 1975 at the time my wife was expecting our first child. So we sort of had twins — one for the barn, one for the crib.” (Come meet Dick and see his work at TSY June 17th, 6-9pm.) “If you don’t know Richard St. Clair– you don’t know Dick!“ The first time I tried-out this line on Dick St. Clair– he cackled…

[insanethrottlebikernews]

BEWARE!! STAY AWAY FROM GREASE MONKEY

#greasemonkey #automobile #carrepair Would you go to a doctor that wasn’t qualified? No, you wouldn’t! So why take your vehicle to someone that didn’t have the qualifications to work on it? Grease Monkey is one of many oil lube hacks that hires unqualified individuals and you’re putting your 30k or whatever price vehicle into their hands.

[coxharleydavidson]

Harley-Davidson Motorcycle Repair & Service in Asheboro, North Carolina

For Harley-Davidson enthusiasts in Asheboro, North Carolina, keeping the iconic rumble of your Harley in peak condition is a top priority. Enter the Harley-Davidson Motorcycle Repair & Service center, where skilled technicians and a passion for the legendary brand come together to ensure your Harley rides as smoothly as the day you first brought it home.

1. Harley-Davidson Certified Technicians:

Your Harley-Davidson motorcycle deserves the best care, and that's precisely what you'll find at the service center in Asheboro. Harley-Davidson Certified Technicians, trained directly by the Motor Company, bring a wealth of knowledge and expertise to every repair and maintenance task.

2. Routine Maintenance for Peak Performance:

To keep your Harley roaring with power and precision, regular maintenance is essential. The service center offers routine maintenance services, including oil changes, tire rotations, and inspections, ensuring that your bike is ready to conquer the open road.

3. Diagnostic Expertise:

When your Harley requires more than routine maintenance, the diagnostic experts at the service center step in. Cutting-edge diagnostic equipment is utilized to identify and address any issues efficiently, saving you time and ensuring your Harley is back on the road as soon as possible.

4. Genuine Harley-Davidson Parts:

Only the best will do for your Harley-Davidson. The service center uses genuine Harley-Davidson parts for all repairs and replacements, ensuring that your bike maintains its legendary quality and performance.

[saytrrose]

Can we see More about your racing AU please?

Looks so amazing and i love It so much

I do suppose I could share the character design line up!

I really just need to finish designing all the go karts, (atleast most are done!) and then I can make proper cards for them and really get into the written details.

To be honest it’s a little hard to just ramble about info and details without specific questions to go off of, so I’ll try my best hhh

for starters, the tent? Not a tent!

It’s actually a stadium, the amazing digital race!

And rooms? Sort of tweaked, they are more like each character owns a personal garage, a large open space where they store their vehicles and then have a loft above that showcases their cozy safe havens. Bed, entertainment, basically a small room in a much larger one.

I haven’t revealed Ragatha, Zooble or Gangles karts yet but I’ll go ahead and just talk about all of them!

Caine:

Caine has a motorcycle, specifically one inspired off of the motorcycle I’m saving up for this summer, a Kawasaki Eliminator. It’s a cruiser, I’m thinking he has a 600cc model but considering Bubble is his right hand man and operates as the races pit crew- he’s definitely tinkered with Caines bike, making adjustments and improving the engine. God only knows what the little psycho did, but it’s a damn good bike that’s not supposed to rev as loud as it does.

Pomni:

Her kart is inspired off a Volkswagen Beetle, seemed very VERY Pomni to me. Her car mimics her outfit design a lot, I might do some color changes to be honest but it will be super minimal, it’ll be final when the cards are done! She definitely stops at the pit the most often despite her placement in a race, are my tires okay?? Do I need my oil?? I know you just filled it but it went down- is anything damaged?? Sweetie you did one lap..

Jax:

Jesus Christ he has a giant supercharger on the hood of his car, and he is absolutely one of those annoying mfs that reva their engine OBNOXIOUSLY loud all the time like he’s super cool. If you’re wondering who most of the skid marks on the track are from, that’s also Jax. Hes the best as drifting, and he loves to show that off. His car isn’t based too much on an actual vehicle?? I stared at Mario karts and pieced it together, but also gave it a very sports car look, the wing on the back fr fr I think Jax would dig that.

Kinger:

OHHSOSK I was so creative with his little wagon,,, it’s castle shaped!! And the best part? Operates like a rocket. In the back past the battlement (the crown looking thing you see atop castle pillars) ARE GIANT exhaust pipes and yes, they do spit fire !! Operates like a rocket. It’s very cool! (Also he has a great muffler because unlike Jax he’s considerate of others hearing 💔) Oh also, he has one of those silly horns, I forgot how to describe it but you can just look at how I drew it on his kart and you’ll know heheh!

Zooble:

Our second motorcyclist, owns a trike! If you don’t know what that is, picture a bike with training wheels but super badass. 3 wheels! It’s inspired off the Harley Davidson freewheeler, I like that design a lot but it’s def not actually a Harley because istg when you buy those bikes your just paying for the fancy name brand- expect it to be in the shop all the time, smh not good- BUT ANYWAY!! The looks are inspired off it though and I can’t wait for this one because it’s just as crazy kooky as Zoobles design is.

Gangle:

Her kart is based on my favorite car, classic style but not too cool because you can bet she has anime stickers on the back and a decal that says “please let me merge before I start crying.” It’s similar to a karmann ghia convertible, 1963. Cherry red (so so pretty) She always has the top down, unless competing because damn you gotta go fast. That car itself is really slow, top speed normally is 68mph, however people have modified them enough to get up to 120mph. Thats still pretty slow compared to others, but her kart only reflects the appearance of the ghia! It’s much faster and I assume Bubble works on all their vehicles if asked to.

Lastly, Ragatha:

Our 3rd motorcyclist. 4 Karts, 3 cyclists. Her bike is a futuristic style, if you want a good idea then look up “icare bike”! Not so much a straight forward posture, she leans over ofc, you’ll likely get the idea when you see her bike. I’ll be honest, I haven’t gotten too into her design yet because I haven’t started drawing but!! Dark blue leds,, everywhere yes yes so cool ❤️

Sorry that’s so much 😭 but yeah! Just need to finish 3 kart designs for you guys and I can make official ref cards 👀

[gothgoblinbabe]

Marlboro Red 100's (pt.1)

Daryl Dixon x FemReader

Modern/no apocalypse/no walkers AU

Word Count: 3765

Warnings: Mentions of smoking, fluffy-lovey-dovey crap, suggestive-ish, swearing, mention of slight age gap but no ages specified

(Pt.2)

A/N: This is like my second ever one shot I've posted to Tumblr pls enjoy and don't rip me to shreds <3

-------------

1:30 to 2:00

2:00 to 3:00

Then 3:30 to 4:00

4:00 to 5:00

5:00 to 6:00

Your shift dragged on and on the more you glanced at the clock, watching the hands circle around and around, painfully slow. Six more hours. You could do six more hours of this, right? Monotonously scanning items and cashing out customers, fixing displays, cleaning spills, scrubbing toilets, checking inventory; all the wonders of being a minimum wage employee at a gas station corner store. Overworked and underpaid, a sentiment shared by many.

There’s handfuls of regulars at any retail store. Some are pleasant and will make small talk with you, asking about your life or commenting on the weather. Others, not so much. Men can be creepy and some people will share every detail of their life with you, whether you want to hear it or not.

There’s rare times, though, when there's a customer that you actually have genuine interest in talking to. Like today.

The door chime rang out through the desolate store, causing you to repeat your usual “Hi, how’re you?” and turn your gaze from your shift paperwork up to the front door. 

There stood a man, broad shoulders and shoulder length, dark hair. He wore dark jeans, heavy-looking boots and a leather vest over a flannel that had the sleeves torn off. His tan, muscular hands and arms were covered in what looked like motor oil. He wiped them on a red rag he took from his back pocket, shaking his hair out of his eyes. 

“Hey,” his voice was low and gruff with a bit of a southern accent, “you got a bathroom I could use?”

He raised his arms, showing you the mess on his large hands.

“Yeah, uh, right in the back, to the left.” you stammered, gesturing towards the back of the building.

You’d probably die before you told anyone this, but the whole hot mechanic look some guys came in with really got you going. Not often is there a good looking guy that comes in that you drool over, but every now and then there would be a mechanic or a construction guy or a painter who just looks dirty and you wanted them dirtier. It was weird, you didn't know why, but maybe it was just the idea that they weren't afraid to get their hands dirty, literally.

You watched this one walk to the back, eyes on his biceps. Oh, how you’d like to be nearly crushed between them. 

Seriously, being here so long with so little to do makes your mind wander just about anywhere and everywhere and half of what you did during your shift was daydream.

When he disappeared into the men’s room, you leaned against the cigarette wall behind the register, eyes scanning the parking lot outside the window. It was almost abandoned, except for an older man pumping gas into his Subaru and a worn-looking Harley Davidson motorcycle propped up out front.

“Of course he rides a motorcycle,” you mumbled to yourself, shaking your head with a little grin. He definitely seemed the type.

“Say somethin’, sweet ‘eart?” his voice startled you from your thoughts, noticing he’d already washed his hands and was now standing up against the counter.

You couldn’t help the light blush creeping across your face at the nickname, shaking your head and pointing outside, “just sayin’ I like your bike.”

You blinked at him from behind the register, watching his eyes almost light up at the mention of his prized possession. You could feel your heart beating faster at the scent of his cologne mixed with a little gasoline.

“Ain’t she beautiful? Just got done workin’ on ‘er, made a mess but it’s always worth it.” He grinned, glancing out the window at his bike.

“You new ‘round here? I’ve never seen you before,” you decided to blurt out, “think I’d remember ya’.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Not many new people come through here, is all.” you lied, so many different faces slid through every day, but you’d remember his because you’d think about it later with your hands between your thighs.

“Huh,” he hummed, “can I get a pack of the Marlboro red 100’s, darlin’?”

You nodded, turning around and reaching on your tiptoes to grab the pack of cigarettes from the top shelf. Had you been able to feel the way the man’s eyes traveled down from the top of your head to your heels, you would’ve melted into a puddle right there.

“Anythin’ else?” you asked, placing the cigarettes on the counter top.

“One more thing,” he said, handing you a twenty dollar bill, “what’s your name?”

You pointed to the name tag fastened to your shirt and he read it outloud, erupting butterflies in your stomach.

‘’I’m Daryl Dixon. And yeah, I’m new ‘round here. I’ll be back in though, you’ll see more of me.”

“You gonna be a regular?” you asked, crossing your arms and once again leaning against the wall of cigarettes after you handed him his change and closed the drawer.

“Hope so, only If i see more a’ you.” 

You rolled your eyes and tried to bite down the smile on your lips, failing miserably. 

“Uh-huh, I’m always here, Daryl Dixon,” You teased, letting his name roll off your tongue.

“Then I’ll be back for sure.” He flashed a sweet smile, tapped his hand on the counter and turned to leave. 

Once he was out the door, you watched him mount his bike, raking his hands through his hair and kicking up the side stand. As he pulled away, you felt the butterflies still flutter in circles in your stomach, your thoughts still focused on him.

You would see him again. It would be Daryl’s ritual to come in every Friday afternoon for a pack of Marlboro Red 100 cigarettes and sometimes a lighter. Truth was, even if his pack wasn’t empty yet, he’d still stop in every Friday afternoon just to see your pretty face and to watch you stretch the top shelf, his eyes raking over your shape. Jesus, he wanted you so badly it almost hurt, but he had no idea how to approach you about it, he didn’t even know much about you. Small things, like your family stuff and what you did for fun, but nothing much else. To make matters worse, he had to be at least 20 years older than you. What would you want with an old man like him?  

Was he really old? 

No, but he felt like it. 

Except for when he was lost in conversation with you.

 Every time he saw you, he felt as though there was no divide and you could’ve known each other years before, old friends meeting up every Friday for a couple months straight. He’d ask questions about you, what your favorite color was, your favorite animal, favorite song, movies, foods, anything he could learn about you, he absorbed like a dry sponge tossed into water. You’d always return the questions, ask him the same, and make mental notes of the answers, the same way he was.

On one sunny, dry, hot Friday afternoon, the door chimed and in walked your favorite regular, Daryl Dixon.

“Hey, honey,” He grinned your way, but instead of walking towards the counter as usual, he turned towards the cooler in the back.

“What, no cigarettes?” you pretended to be shocked, hand over your heart.

‘’I’m gettin’ a drink, hot as shit out there,” he replied, shaking his head and disappearing momentarily behind one of the shelves.

You smiled and rolled your eyes just as the door chimed again, another customer walking in. 

He was a short, scrawny guy who couldn't have been more than a couple years older than you. You said your usual greeting and he ignored you, walking up to the counter and simply stating a brand of cigarettes you assumed he wanted. Daryl got in line behind him just as you turned around and bent slightly to grab the pack of cigarettes on the lowest shelf.

From behind you, you heard a whistle.

You snapped back up, looking back and glaring at the asshole. He was chuckling to himself.

“Aw, c’mon, it was a compliment, baby, you got blessed back there,’’ He laughed.

“Fuck off,” you muttered, tossing the cigarettes onto the counter and swiping the scanner over them.

“What was that, babe?” He raised his eyebrows.

Daryl looked like he was about to explode, piping up from behind the guy, “you heard what she said, why don’t ‘cha? Fuck off.”

He nearly spat his words, seconds away from stepping between this douchebag and the counter.

“I ain’t gonna let no bitch talk to me like that,” He snarled, swiping the cigarettes off the counter.

‘’Alright, that’s it,” Daryl placed his drink on the counter and slid it to you, “hold that, sweetheart, okay?” before turning to the other man.

‘’Fuck you think you are, talkin’ to a lady like that? She ain’t no bitch, that’s you. Get the fuck on outta’ here.” He spat, roughly grabbing the younger man by the collar of his t-shirt and shoving him towards the door.

‘’She ain’t no lady-” the guy started, back to the door, but Daryl cut him off.

“She’s every bit a’ one, now get the hell out and leave ‘er alone before I kick your fuckin’ teeth in.” 

The guy tried to walk forward, but Daryl shoved him out through the door, onto the pavement. He scrambled up, seemingly too embarrassed to walk back in, and sped off. Daryl picked up the cigarettes from the floor where the guy had dropped them when he was shoved the first time and gently placed them onto the counter.

‘’You alright, honey? I’m sorry ‘bout him, fuckin’ asshole.”

You were just about breathless, a pit in your stomach and a tingle in your chest. You’d hate to admit it to yourself but the way he had defended you turned you on to almost no end. Your heart was beating a million times a minute, deafening in your ears as you blinked at his baby blue eyes.

You almost couldn’t speak, “ ‘m fine.”

“You sure?”

‘’Y-yeah, thank you.”

“Ain’t gotta thank me for nothin’, I’d never let some prick talk to ya’ like that.”

“Daryl?”

You had a bad idea, it was definitely bad and there's no way he’d say yes but your tongue was on a route that your brain couldn’t stop.

“Mhm?” he hummed in response, leaning on his forearms on the counter, so engaged in anything and everything you had to say.

Which made things so much worse for you.

“What are you doing tomorrow night? Are you busy?” you blurted.

Oh, this could be so, so bad.

“What?” He replied, steading himself to stand straight. 

Okay, yeah, bad.

“Nevermind, I’m sorry, I don’t know what I-”

“No, no, sorry for what? I ain’t busy tomorrow night, what were you gonna say?”

Daryl looked intrigued, if not a little confused.

“It was stupid, I was gonna ask if you, um, If you’d wanna maybe have dinner or somethin’. Like a date.” You managed to get out, picking at your fingernails with anxiety.

“I ain’t too old for ‘ya?” was the first thing from his mouth after a moment of tense silence.

“Too old?” you questioned, tilting your head, “I’m an adult, Daryl. You can’t be too old for me.”

He sighed, grinning and rubbing the back of his neck as relief filled his body.

“When you want me to pick you up, sweetheart?”

You smiled wide, feeling giddy like this was your very first date all over again.

“Let’s do six o’clock? Here, I’ll give you my address,” you find a piece of a scrapped receipt and scribble your address and phone number, handing it over to him.

He gladly accepts it, folding it and placing it in his jeans pocket.

Before you know it, it’s six o’clock the next evening and you're focused on yourself in the mirror. You’d worn your favorite outfit and done your hair, waiting anxiously for the doorbell.

At five minutes past six, it rang.

You excitedly scurried to the door, opening it to see a slightly nervous Daryl Dixon in his leather vest and flannel button down. 

He shook his hair out of his eyes to get a better look at you, making note of every curve and dip that made his head spin.

“You look…real, real pretty,” He managed to mumble out, having a hard time keeping his eyes on yours.

“You do, too,” you teased, stepping out into the evening air and closing the door behind you.

You followed Daryl to his motorcycle, your stomach turning with nerves.

“So where we headin’ off to?” you inquired, watching his broad shoulders in front of you.

“ ‘s a surprise. Figured I outta’ do somethin’ special for a girl like you.”

You blushed, shaking your head and only giggling in response.

“You alright gettin’ on the bike?” He asked sweetly, placing a gentle hand on your elbow.

You could melt under his calloused touch, instinctively leaning your body towards him.

“I should be alright, I think. Just never been on one before,” you caught your lower lip between your teeth.

He noticed the small nervous gesture, reaching over his bike and handing you the single helmet.

“You’re safe with me, alright? Hold on real tight and don’t let go, trust me, ain’t gonna let nothin’ happen to you,' ' He reassured you.

You hesitated for a moment before tugging the helmet on and letting Daryl help you on the motorcycle behind him. You wrapped your arms tight around his abdomen, leaning your weight on his back.

He was glad you were behind him so you couldn’t see the shade of pink his cheeks had turned or the way he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face even if he tried. You were significantly smaller in stature than he was and he adored the way your smaller arms wrapped tight around him.

“You ready, honey?” He kicked the side stand up, rearing the engine of the bike.

“Sure am, sugar,” You shot back.

His smile grew wider as you both started forward, wind through your clothes sending a light chill through you. The hum of the bike filled your ears as you watched your shadows dance upon the pavement, cast by the late afternoon sun.

Before you knew it, Daryl slowed the bike to a stop and turned to speak to you.

“Wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“Nah,” you tried to act nonchalant, though your heart was beating like crazy as you handed him the helmet back, “it was fun.”

“So you’ll let me take ya’ out on it again?” 

“Well, I’ll have to if we’re gonna go on any more dates, huh?”

Daryl smiled at your quick response, hopping off the bike and helping you do the same.

You checked out your surroundings, a green and desolate park, open lawns with freshly mowed grass and large oak and willow trees.

“You take me here to kill me?” you joked, watching a dragonfly hover over the cement near your feet.

“Nah, cmon,” Daryl chuckled, waving his hand to motion you to follow him, “got somethin’ set up for ya’. Hope you don’t think it’s stupid, I ain’t ever really…’guess I’ve never been on a real date before, so I, uh…I don’t know, hope you like it, is all.”

His nervous babbling as you followed in his direction into the field of grass made you smile wide. 

“I’m sure whatever you got up your sleeve is -”

Words failed to form as you saw what he was leading you to. A blanket was laid out under the shade of a beautifully full weeping willow tree. Containers of all sorts of delicious foods were spread out along with a bottle of red wine and two glasses.

“Oh, Daryl, you did all this? For me?”

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to kiss him right there for being so damn sweet.

“Of course, for you,” Daryl smiled, taking a seat on the blanket and tapping the empty space next to him, “what other sweet lady would I do this for?”

You couldn’t hide the large smile spread across your face as you plopped yourself down next to him, taking in the array of foods.

“Wow, this is…you really out did yourself. This is perfect.” you assured him, taking note of the way he was scanning your features to see what you thought of his gesture.

“Think so? Just wanted to make it ‘nice as I could.” 

“Perfect, all of it.” You smiled and opened a container of strawberries, popping one in your mouth and offering some to Daryl.

He took one appreciatively, doing the same.

You had a mischievous idea and picked up a strawberry, offering it to Daryl, “Now is this the part of the date where you feed me strawberries like in the movies?”

You thought he’d laugh, shake off your joke in slight rejection and change the subject.

Instead, he gently took the fruit from your fingers, hovering it in front of your lips.

‘’Yeah? Go ahead.”

Your stomach did back flips and you could’ve sworn it tied itself in knots at his words.

Daryl was glad you didn’t seem to notice the way his hand started to shake.

You leaned in, slowly, and caught the fruit between your teeth. You kept your eyes on his as you bit down, pulling away to wipe the juice from your lips.

Unfortunately (or fortunately) for him, that was one of the hottest things he’d ever experienced in his life and he immediately went for the wine to calm his nerves. 

You watched him uncork the wine in his lap, noticing the slight bulge in the front of his jeans as he tried to hide it with the bottle, though it didn’t do much.

The way you had to do almost nothing but exist in his presence to make him excited had you biting down a smile, watching his hair fall in front of his face as he finally uncorked the bottle. As he poured your glass, you reached a delicate hand forward and brushed the hair from his face and tucked it behind his ear. His eyes shot up to yours, lost in the way the sun hit them and made the color even more stunning.

You were beautiful, ethereal, an angel on earth he had been blessed to be touched by.

And you made him spill the wine.

“S-shit, sorry, I shoulda’ been lookin’, too distracted,” He laughed a little, glancing at the stain of red wine on the blanket.

‘’Distracted with what?” You teased, grabbing the bottle from his hands to pour him his own glass.

“How am I supposed to pay attention when there’s a pretty girl like you lookin’ at me like that?”

“Like what? I’m just lookin’ at you!” You giggled, going to hand him his wine glass.

“Like that!” he exclaimed with a smile, gesturing with his free hand as he took the glass from you, “with them beautiful damn eyes and that pretty smile and that gorgeous face, drivin’ me damn near insane.”

“Oh, please, you say it to flatter me,” you shook your head and laughed, taking a sip from your glass.

  “Nah, but if you wanna feel flattered, I’ll sure keep tryin’,” He said, doing the same, “but it ain’t flattery if it’s true.”

You playfully rolled your eyes and had another snack. Daryl sat back against the tree and watched you intently, your lips, nose, jaw, hair, hands, every bit of you. 

“You wanna know somethin’?” He said, gaining your attention.

“Hm?”

“I don’t really go through a pack of smokes a week. I just come in every Friday to see you. I like seein’ your pretty face and I like seein’ you reach up to grab ‘em from the top shelf. It’s cute.”

It felt like he knocked the wind right out of you. He really was too damn sweet.

“And I like talkin’ to ya’, like knowin’ more about ya’. Could talk to you for hours.” he added in admission, smiling in adoration at you.

It was almost too much. 

“Daryl?”

He sat up, leaning towards you, “Yeah, sweetheart?”

“I want you to kiss me,” you sighed, watching his eyes change, “please, kiss me.”

He wasted no time in placing a gentle hand on the back of your neck and connecting his lips with yours. His lips were soft against yours and tasted of strawberries and wine and cigarettes. His breathing was soft against your cheek as he deepened the kiss, placing his other hand on your waist and absentmindedly tracing circles with his fingers. Your hands were both in his hair, twirling his locks around your fingers. You both eventually broke apart to gaze at each other, breathless and giddy like teenagers.

“I like you a lot, Daryl.” you admitted, again playing with his hair. He leaned into your touch.

“I like you more.” He smiled, fingers still tracing patterns on your waist.

“Oh, you wanna start that fight?” you teased.

“Only if we can make up at the end,” He smiled.

You kissed him again, this time adjusting yourself to be nearly square on his lap. His breathing hitched and he gazed up at you, swiping gently at the hair that had fallen in front of your face.

“Show me how much you like me.” Was all you had to say to have Daryl’s tongue in your mouth, swiping lovingly and softly. 

His hands caressed from your shoulder blades down your back to the sides of your hips, kneading your thighs while you tangled your fingers in his hair. He pulled away just an inch to kiss along your jaw and down your neck, biting and sucking softly, earning small mews and moans from you. You mumbled his name in ecstacy, making him groan against your neck. He continued to kiss back up your neck and jaw to once again meet your mouth, using one hand on the back of your neck to keep you as close against him as you could get.

When you two finally broke away from each other, reluctantly, neither of you could wipe the smiles from your faces.

It was no surprise then, when he dropped you home later and walked you to your door, that you both agreed to a second date.

-------------

wooooo pt2 coming eventually!

[edgessunflower]

May I please request headcanons for Hotch, Reid, and Morgan falling for a rough female mechanic who did time in prison for a crime she didn't commit?

Omg omg yaaaaas 😊 hope you like them!

Falling for Fem!Mechanic reader who went to prison for a false crime 🖤

Warning:Minor cussing,mentions of death,murder,and rape,plus emotions

Spencer

He was entranced the first time he saw you fixing one of your motorcycles wearing a tank top,jean shorts,toe heeled boots,black bandana wrapped around your head,rag in hand wiping oil off,and tattoos on your body 9 he counted

He talked to you for abit after he realized he was lost you giving him a ride to where he needed to go in your 2005 Honda Civic him thanking you quite a bit and you inviting him to lunch the next day

You met up at a soup kitchen and had lunch going back to your place where you showed him around your home and farm you helped your grandparents with rambling facts every so often making you smile

After keeping in contact with each other for months and meeting in person whenever you both could you moved to Quantico and started dating Spencer

After a couple months of being together he had found out while researching about your parents that you had spent 9 years in jail from the time you were 16 til you were 25 for Assault,Attempted Murder,And Child Endangerment immediately asking you about all of it when you got out of the shower from fixing both your cars and all three of your motorcycles

You told him everything trying to keep all your emotions and thoughts together but halfway through you broke down telling him the truth that you were visiting your sister and niece but while there your violent father broke in killing your sister,taking your niece,and torturing you eventually framing you for all that happened and keeping your niece for months

He had managed to get copies of all the files and paperwork bringing it to the team begging and emotionally asking them to look into what happened to you finding out that the police had done a very bad job investigating the case not taking into the fact the very clear evidence that you had been tortured and couldn't have done anything that you were charged for

The whole team went to the town and station very angered and clearly not backing down til they admit that they botched the investigation exposing alot of corrupt cops making statements about the truth leading to your father getting arrested and sentenced to life without parole and you finally got reunited with your niece who at the time was a year old was now 17 years old looking just like your sister

You hugged him tightly when you found out all he had done for the truth to come out and you to finally live the life you had always wanted

You both loved each other alot moving in with him after being together a year and on your two year anniversary he secretly went and got a tattoo of a book propped up on the chair of a Harley Davidson motorcycle with the quote on the page"You are my today and all of my tomorrows" by Leo Christopher

Derek

He was pretty intrigued not only how well versed and skilled with fixing up and making things you were but also how you always were working on something whether it was fixing your car's engine or the handles on your motorcycle he was starstruck by you

He had a tattoo on his arm but he had never seen that many tattoos that not only fit on someone's body the way all 6 of yours did but how each one fit something different about you

He had met you through a childhood friend of his when he came to the friend's house seeing the lower half of your body working on his car thinking you were just a smaller thin man but boy did it change when he came out to play basketball waiting on his friend when you roll out from under the car covered in oil

You couldn't deny how good looking and attractive he was as he stares at you wiping oil off your hands and little drops that had fallen on your face smiling sweetly at him as you turn the car on smiling bigger when the car worked unlike earlier

He was impressed with how you were able to look and immediately be able to tell what to do but you were still open to doing other things to fix it as well whether it was a car or motorcycle

After getting to know you for awhile you both realized you had feelings for each other taking things slow and him moving in with you 7 months later not only because your place was closer to the BAU but also because you had a open field behind your house making it feel like he was in a story with how much it made him think of fantasy stories

One time when you were asleep he noticed a scar going from your lower chest to just above your belly button making his heart hurt telling him what had happened making his heart and soul shatter at how vulnerable you were "I had gotten hurt when I was...in prison by inmates in my pod and I had to be taken to the hospital because I was bleeding internally and would have died in a couple of minutes had it not been for an inmate fighting them off me and taking me to a guard to be taken to a hospital" he was taken off guard when you mentioned prison but he waited not asking

He found out that you were in prison for 4 years after being charged with drug trafficking when you were actually drugged and kidnapped by drug traffickers originally planning on killing you but then decide to frame you for everything they did leaving you in hell until you finally got out of prison

He went straight to Hotch the next morning after you told him telling him everything and asking if anything could be done at all to have the case officially complete and in the honest way

Hotch immediately agreed bringing in the team and telling them that no other cases would be completed or looked at until yours was done looking every nook and cranny of evidence going down to your hometown and questioning the authorities who handle it and witnesses who found you in an alley

The truth was found out and immediately both people were found and arrested on the charges you were charged for and more being sentenced to life with no parole and the police department issuing a public apology to you for what they had done to you

You woke up turning on the TV immediately seeing the news showing your case and not only finding out the team knew and had found the people who ruined your life but also that the police felt true remorse and guilt for putting you in prison for something that wasn't your fault

As soon as he came home you ran into his arms crying tears of joy leading to not only him just holding you until you weren't crying anymore but also a sweet moment of two people showing in different ways that they loved each other

You both after 5 years of being together you got married in the open field behind the home you shared

Aaron

He had never thought that he would have been attracted to someone that had some of your qualities mainly the mechanic part but it never bothered or tiered him away either

You were a friend of Penelope's and you came over to her place to help fix her car that was having problems starting and moving

He had stopped by to tell her that they had the next bit off and to drop off homemade cookies to her that his girlfriend at the time beth had made and thought pen would like

He was talking to her when you came up covered in oil,wearing a tank top,tennis shoes,and jeans,showing most of the tattoos on your upper body and your bob length hair pulled back into a tiny ponytail "Hey pen your car's fixed! Turns out the battery was dying on ya and you gasket was fixing to blow up" she cheers and thanks you by not only a girl's night out the next weekend but also by letting you use her shower and nice smelling washes

He had lost the ability not only to breathe and think but also just exist by not how independent and strong willed you seemed but also how kind and giving you also seemed not knowing what to do if he ever saw you again

You ran into each other at the local coffee shop soon you were together and dating meeting his young jack who adored you always him asking you to help him and teach him to fix his bike

You moved in 8 months of being together even though he wanted you to move in at 3 months you decided to wait much longer not only because you wanted to not only bond with him more but also in order for him to think of having another person living with him in that way wince his wife passed

He had told you about his wife a bit not how she died or anything like that but what type of person and mother she was until later on in your relationship

He told you that she was murdered and how much it changed life for him and jack trying so hard not to just disappear somewhere else where no one knows him

He liked the way all 12 of your tattoos fit your body from your legs,arms,and shoulders to your hips,ribs,and back all of them having a different meaning to each of them but his personal favorite tattoo on you was the one on your back of a phoenix showing you no matter how hurt and scarred you were you still got up and fought back for yourself and the people you loved

But he felt anger and pure agony when you told him that you were not only falsely accused of a crime but sent to prison for years on charges of Evidence tampering, obstruction of justice,and murder not only when you were such a kind hearted person but also because you had lost half your life you can never get back and trying to make up for the time you missed by being in prison

He started looking into your case after working a case a lot similar putting other cases on hold and working all day and night finding that not only did they not have any evidence to charge you but they also contaminated the crime scene by other people still being in the house when they took pictures of the scene

He immediately traveled by himself to your hometown and demanded the case be reopened and thoroughly investigated by a different group of detectives along with the BAU team even threatening to charge all the people who worked the case for practically just putting the most innocent and affected person who had witnessed what happened in prison

You had also told them that it was your best friend who had died being killed by her own father while you hid under the bed and being assaulted by her brother who helped hide the crime with the dad

After a lot of work and fighting with the police letting them know that they would be on their asses for what they did to you

You knew he was in your hometown on a case but not that it was the case of what had happened to you finding out not only when you were watching the news seeing issue a public apology to you and your family but also when you sister and cousin called you telling you how they had met and talked to Aaron which surprised you greatly

You spent your time with jack doing different things when he wasn't at school from making snacks,coloring,and watching TV to playing with him,taking him to the park,letting him sleep with you whenever he had a nightmare while aaron was gone,and just having a great time bonding with the other

The day aaron came home showing you that your record was clean and expunged that you had ever been in prison making your heart grow big with warmth even more hugging him with tears of joy but it was also the same day he started thinking and wanting to marry you and jack ran in hugging his dad calling you mom for the very first time

A couple of years later the two of you got married on a beach and you adopted jack the very same day of your wedding becoming the family you and him both wanted for years finding it in each other as well as a person to spend and love for the rest of your lives

[hornsbeforehalos]

Anytime, Sweetheart (Remastered)- Part Two

Pairing: JDM x OFC (RPF)SERIES WARNINGS: (not specific to each chapter): violence, implied sexual assault, drug use, drinking, smut, murder, cursing, age-gap relationships, power dynamics, angst, slight slow burn, cheating... will update warnings as needed. AUTHOR'S NOTE: this is a rewrite! I originally wrote this, which can still be found in my master list, years and years ago and finally have decided to spruce it up a bit. This will be in third person POV and updated to be less... cringy as the original. As of right now there are only two chapters rewritten but if anyone shows interest, I will continue :) Please let me know if you would like to be tagged. I haven't written anything serious in years so this is me dipping my toes back in :) Face credit for OC is Taylor Momsen :) Tag List: @coffee-obsessed-writer@kazosa@lovealways-j@lovetusk@sorenmarie87

The next morning, Kylin was woken up by her screaming niece jumping on top of her over and over again as she laid on the couch.

“Birdie, why do you hate me?” She groaned as she pulled the little girl into her chest for a hug. 

“Auntie KyKy! Wake up!” Justice squealed. Her loud, shrill, voice made Kylin wince, her hangover in full effect.

“Shh, child, let’s go back to sleep” Kylin replied as she squeezed her close. She buried her face into the tiny terror’s hair while the girl continued to protest against her. 

“You stink!” Justice yelled, scrunching her nose as she pushed away from her aunt. 

“No, you stink!” Kylin countered as she rolled onto her side, her back against the couch cushions. 

“Nuh-uh!” The little girl insisted.

“Yuh uh!” Kylin answered before she shoved the child off the couch. The girl landed with an “oof,’ followed by a shrill giggle that made Kylin wince once more. 

“Go find your mother, spawn,” Kylin instructed as she threw her legs over the side of the couch to stand up. 

She made her way towards the bathroom with one hand pressed against the back of her head and the other against the bridge of her nose to suppress the throbbing that had been induced by her wonderful niece. She could feel the oil seeping from her pores, and when she brought her hand from her face to rub her eyes in her sleepy stupor, she felt the black smudge that had at one point been her eyeliner smear across her face. 

“Well, good morning to you, sleeping beauty,” Came a gruff voice as the door to the bathroom opened before Kylin could reach for the knob.

Standing before her, in nothing but a very low-slung cotton towel, was Jeffrey.

“Holy shit,” She managed to mumble in surprise, her brain half fried from not only her hangover, but the unexpected view. 

“Sorry, love,” Jeffrey chuckled as he moved around her, his fist gripped tight to keep the fabric around his waist together.

“Uh, no worries,” Kylin responded, entering the bathroom. Jeffrey made his way towards the guest room, and Kylin couldn’t help the way her eyes followed him down the hall. 

--------------------------------------

The shower was life changing. All the sweat, dirty, grime, even her headache, was washed away. While she dried herself off with a big, fluffy towel, she realized she had forgotten her backpack containing all of her clothes. She wrapped the towel around her body and opened the door to go look for it. 

She turned the corner and almost ran smack dab into Jeffrey’s chest. (Which was now covered by a worn out Harley Davidson tee.)

“Oh fuck, s-s-sorry,” She gasped. Embarrassment flooded through her as she looked up at him. He wore a smirk on his lips, and he gripped her by the shoulders to steady her. 

“A-hem” Was suddenly heard from behind Jeff, and Kylin peaked her head around his frame to see Jensen standing in the hallway with her backpack lifted up in the air by his index finger, “Looking for this?”

“Uh, yeah, thanks, Bubs,” Kylin answered, her blush growing deeper as she stepped around Jeffrey to grab the backpack from Jensen. 

She ducked into the nearest empty guest room, and Jensen followed her.

“What’s that on your neck, Ky?” Her brother asked. He ducked his head and gestured towards her neck.

Her hand automatically went to her throat and pressed against the newly formed bruise from the day before.

“Oh, uh, I had on a necklace yesterday that was, like, super tight, and I accidentally ripped it off, and uh.. Yeah…” She trailed off before turning her back to him to rummage through her stuff. She pulled out a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt, as well as a bra and underwear.

 “Um, a little privacy here, big bro?” She laughed nervously, looking over her shoulder toward him before going back to her clothes on the bed. 

“Hmm, yeah, whatever.” Jensen replied, suspicion laced in his tone. She heard him set out a deep sigh before his footsteps retreated from the room.

A few minutes later, as she pulled her shirt over her head, Robbie’s concerned voice came from the door way, “Jesus Christ, Ky, What the fuck?”

She spun around and quickly pulled down her shirt, just in time to see Jeffrey walk past Rob in the hallway with an unreadable look on his face. He quickly averted his gaze from their direction, and increased his pace to his room. Kylin stepped over to Rob and jerked him into the room before she slammed the door closed. 

“Fuck, Robbie, what the hell?” Kylin growled in annoyance.

“What the hell is this?!” He asked in reply. He turned her around, and pulled on the hem of her shirt to reveal the bruises scattered across her ribs and back. His other hand gently trailed over the yellow and greenish marks, “He did this?”

She pulled away from him and scowled as she faced him, her arms wrapping around her body for comfort. 

“God damnit, Kylin.” He whispered angrily. He lifted her chin up with his fingertips to examine the darkening mark Jensen had mentioned earlier. She turned her head to the left as his fingers ghosted over her skin, her eyes trained away from him as tears began to form. 

“Shut up,” was the only thing she was able to choke out before she crumbled into Rob’s arms. He picked her up and carried her to the bed and held her as she cried for half an hour. 

The safe feeling of being in Rob’s embrace calmed her, and she wiped her eyes after the last tears had finally fallen. “Promise me you won’t let this happen again. Please.” Robbie begged, his voice cracking as he restrained tears of his own. 

“Promise.” She sniffled. 

He looked her in the eyes again for a moment and let a tear run down his face before he nodded and brought her head back to his chest. They laid like that or a little bit longer while they both steadied themselves. 

“Better?” He asked after a while, patting her on the back as he pulled away.

“Better.” She answered with a nod, using the sleeve of her shirt to wipe her nose again.

Rob stood and pulled her up by the hand. He linked their fingers together and led them towards the door. She followed him to the dining room, where it seemed everyone had already gathered as the morning routine of breakfast preparations had begun.

The moment she sat down at the kitchen island, Justice led the Padalecki boys on an assault against Kylin’s legs, equipped with foam swords. 

“KyKy, will you make us pancakes?” Thomas asked while giving her a set of puppy dog eyes that rivaled his father’s. The other two children soon followed suit with the same stare, knowing she couldn’t deny them anything. 

Kylin let out a huff of exasperation and hopped down from the stool she had been perched on to make her way past Dani and Gen to the pantry. She ignored their snickers at how easily she was broken down by the tiny demons. 

“Need any help there, darlin’?” A rough drawl came from behind her as she was mixing in chocolate chips into the pancake batter.

Jeffrey stepped up beside her at the counter and peered into the bowl while licking his lips. 

“No, sir,” Kylin replied cockily while she continued to stir, “If there’s one thing I’m good at, it's this. I can make these bitches in my sleep.” 

She moved from her place beside him to the island where the stove was to check the temperature of the oil in the pan. When she turned back around, Jeffrey was standing there with his finger in his mouth, batter dripping down the length of it. 

“Mmm-mmm-mmm-” He said, furrowing his brows and shaking his head back and forth in pleasure. 

She couldn’t help that her breath hitched, or the bright red shade that flushed her skin at the sight. 

“Hey, Jeff, I think your car’s here.” Jensen grunted as he entered the room, an annoyed look on his face as he glared at Kylin. 

Jeffrey pulled his finger from his mouth as he pushed himself off the counter with a roll of his eyes. 

“Alright,” He chuckled as he wiped his finger on a dish towel before he grabbed his jacket from the back of the nearby chair and shrugged it on.

“See you all later,” He waved to everyone, but gave Kylin a wink when their eyes met. He showed his teeth in a sweet smile before he headed towards the door.

With a sigh, Kylin turned her attention back to the pancakes.

--------------------------------------

The day went on, spent by playing with the kids and lounging on the couch with the girls. Kylin had received the phone call that she had been wanting from her dad- he had been able to sneak into the apartment while Anthony was gone and had gathered up as much of her stuff as he could. He was about as oblivious to the situation as Jensen was, but he also had his suspicions as well.

Jared and Jensen had been sent to the grocery store with the kids, the adventure deemed “Mission Impossible” by the boys, so when the doorbell rang as Kylin was laying on the couch, she automatically assumed it was just them needing help getting stuff out of the truck.

As soon as the front door opened though, she realized how wrong she had been.

Anthony’s fist came colliding with her face, the force knocking her back. He flung the door the rest of the way open and staked the four feet into the house to the entrance of the hallway. He grabbed a fist full of Kylin’s hair and pulled her up to knee her in the ribs.

“Stupid” punch “Fucking” knee. “Bitch.” slap.

Kylin tried her hardest to push him away and fight back, but the man was over twice her size. She screamed as loud as she could, knowing someone had to have heard the commotion.

Suddenly, the very distinct sound of a gun being cocked was heard above her, and they both looked up to see Danneel holding her pistol at the ready, aimed directly at Anthony’s head.

“Get out of my house.” Danneel seethed, a dangerous glint in her eyes.

It was a big enough distraction, thankfully, for Rob and Richard to rush him and get him to the ground. Neither of the two men stopped there, though. 

Rich held Anthony by the throat as Rob clobbered his face repeatedly with his fists. It wasn’t until Jared and Jensen busted into the hallway and pulled everyone apart that the chaos finally subsided.

“Oh look, it’s Hollywood, here to save the day.” Anthony spat the blood that had pooled into his mouth onto Jared’s shirt as he was hoisted to his feet. 

Rob and Rich rushed to Kylin, and Rob picked her up as Rich protectively positioned himself in front of them. Kylin held onto Rob for dear life as sobs wracked through her battered body.

“You will never, ever put your fucking hands on her again.” Gen raged. She walked up to the man and gave him another slap to the face of her own. 

“I’m sorry, you did what?” Jensen took the gun out of Danneel’s hand and pushed her and Gen behind him. “I know I didn’t hear that right.” 

“Fuck you. Not your fucking business what I do with my woman.” Anthony responded, spitting more blood. 

Jensen brought the barrel of the pistol to rest on Anthony’s temple. Everyone held their breath.

“Jensen, stop.” Kylin managed to squeak, “I’m not worth it.”

Her brother turned his head towards her in disbelief. He moved past Rich to grab her face in his hands and turn her head to look at him before he spoke, “Don’t ever say that again. You are worth so much more than this.” He kissed her hair before he turned back around and resumed his aim on Anthony. 

“You are so fucking lucky we don’t do cops, you know that?” Jensen snarked. He craned his head in order to be able to look Anthony in the eyes, “Well, for right now anyway.” 

Jensen took a step back before he flicked the gun’s safety on and held it out for Danneel to take. He grabbed Anthony out of Jared’s grasp and pulled him towards the front door, “You will get the fuck out of my house and away from my family. You will not go anywhere near them, or you will find out how much my sister means to me and how little your life does.” 

In one adrenaline-fueled heave, Anthony was sent flying out of the front door. Jensen and Jared stormed after him and proceeded to kick the ever-living shit out of him until he was back in his car. He fell into the driver’s seat, a bloody mess, before speeding off. 

The boys rushed back inside and Jensen scooped Kylin from Rob’s arms in a huff. He soothed her crying and kissed the top of her head as he carried her to the guest room with her stuff. He laid her down on the bed before climbing in with her and wrapping her up in his arms. 

“I’m so sorry, bubbah” She sobbed.

“No, no sissy. I should be apologizing. I knew. I fuciing knew and I didn’t do anything about it. I should have beat his ass the first time you came down here. I’m so fucking sorry. Everyone’s gonna fucking kill me.” He breathed through his own tears into her hair. He rocked them both back and forth. 

They laid there for a while and cried together. He did his best to comfort her while his own guilt tried to eat him up inside. Kylin let him know she wanted to be alone, so he decided it was probably smart to check on everyone and let them know she was okay for now. 

It took hours, but Kylin finally succumbed to the trauma and exhaustion, and fell asleep. 

[themummersfolly]

I don't have a title for this one yet.

But it's another Mr. Harley fic, featuring little Furiosa.

It wasn’t that Mr. Harley shied away from violence. He’d earned his place fair and square as one of Dementus’ captains, holding up refineries and farms, knocking over caravans and rival gangs. It’s just that, sometimes you didn’t like what you had to do. And there were some lines you shouldn’t cross.

Like hurting little kids. Or hurting their caretakers in front of them.

That had been a dark day for the Horde, when they’d done for the woman from the place of abundance. Mr. Harley had nightmares for days after, and he avoided the Octoboss and his men for longer. He’d worried Dementus would do something to try to force the information out of her daughter, but to his relief he seemed to take a shine to her. Not in the scummy way Rizzdale might, but in, he hoped, a genuine fatherly sort of way. Dementus had had kids himself once, after all.

“Hey there, Pops! How’d you and the nipper handle that ride?”

The History Man scowled at being called “Pops.” He shook the dust out of his robe.

“Quite alright. I suppose if a smoother route had been available, we’d have taken it.”

“Yeah. Pretty hard on the suspension. We’re gonna have to stop here for a day or two to fix some of the bikes.” He passed a canteen through the bars of the trailer. History handed it first to the little girl. Mr. Harley crouched down at eye level to her.

“And how you doing, Nipper?” His best smile looked more like a sneer; Mr. Davidson said it gave his face character, but he doubted the kid would agree. “Hey, got you something, out on the last scouting ride.” He pulled a small bundle wrapped in a scrap of cloth out of his pocket. “Wattleseeds. Used to eat these all the time when I was a kid; not many left, these days. Rounded up all I could find, roasted ‘em for you.” He held out the package. “Go ahead, they’re all for you. Eat ‘em quick, ‘fore they go stale.”

Hesitantly, the girls snaked an arm out and grabbed the bag. She kept her eyes on Mr. Harley as she split the pods open to retrieve the popped seeds. He couldn’t help but grin.

“There you go! That stuff’s like candy.” He noticed something, tilted his head. “Hey, what’s that? On your arm.” He tapped the corresponding spot on his own arm. The girl retracted her hand under her blanket and huddled away from him.

“Was that a tattoo? Like his? He give you that?” He motioned to the History Man, who was peering curiously at the girl. The old man shook his head. “You been writing on yourself? You gonna be a History Man, too?” His grin broadened. “That’s a good job for you! Nobody will ever mess with you, and everybody will want you around!” He sat down with his back against the trailer. “Real proud of you, Nipper. I was telling your Uncle Davidson the other day, I knew you got some good brains on you.”

The History Man’s robe rustled. “Uncle Davidson?”

He looked over his shoulder. “Well yeah, we’re hardly father figures, but we can be uncles.”

The girl returned to eating her wattleseeds and watching him. He reached into his belt pouch and pulled out a cleaning kit, then drew his pistol and laid it in front of him.

“Shoulda cleaned this a couple days ago; falling behind on me up-keep.” He spread out the wrapper of the cleaning kit and began laying out the tools. “Take care of your gear, and your gear’ll take care of you. But you probably heard that before.” He picked up the pistol and held it, pointing at the ground, where she could see it. “This here’s a Ruger Redhawk, a real nice piece. Got it off an MFP fucker who wouldn’t leave me mates alone.” He opened the cylinder to show her. “Six-shooter, double action, chambered for .45 ACP. Got ten rounds for it, and brass to make a hundred more if we ever get the lead and bang powder.” He added a drop of oil to a rag and began wiping the weapon clean. “One of these days Uncle Harley will teach you how to shoot it, how’d you like that?”

The girl didn’t answer; he didn’t expect her too. Poor kid had been through a lot. She’d start talking again when she was good and ready. In the meantime, it was important to let her know she was safe.

The pistol was gleaming and he was halfway through the story of how he learned to throw a boomerang when footsteps crunched nearby and a shadow fell across him. He looked up at the Octoboss, helmet tucked under one arm.

“Your prettier half is looking for you. Said he found the problem with your fuel injector.” He side-eyed the trailer as Mr. Harley packed up his kit. The little girl withdrew as far as she could, pulling her blanket over her face. Mr. Harley crouched again beside the bars before getting up.

“It’s alright, Nipper, I’ll see you around later. You take care of the dogs and ol’ History, ok?”

She didn’t respond. He stood and headed back to his campsite. The Octoboss fell in beside him.

“You shouldn’t get attached. She’s Dementus’ pet, not yours.”

Mr. Harley didn’t look at him. He couldn’t forget the sight of him questioning the girl’s mother, ordering her lowered into the heat of the fire again and again when she refused to answer.

“Poor kid needs a friend. She don’t deserve what’s happened to her, she’s been through hell.” Because of us. Because of YOU. He bit those last words back before they could escape. He knew better than to give the Octoboss grief. The other man didn’t answer at first, but he could feel him watching him.

They were almost back to the spot where Mr. Davidson was fiddling with their bikes, cursing, when the Octoboss stopped in his tracks. Mr. Harley turned to face him on instinct.

“If you want me to say I feel bad about what I did, I don’t. We gotta choose who we do right by, and I’ll choose my men every time. But you’re right. She didn’t deserve what we put her through.” It was the longest speech he’d ever heard the Octoboss give. “I can’t fix what happened that day, I can’t fix her. And neither can you.”

The Octoboss’s eyes were steady. Dementus liked to brag that his lieutenant was a man without a conscience, but Mr. Harley knew that wasn’t true, had known since he’d found him drunk and crying after losing one of his men to slipsand. There might be very strict limits to his conscience, but it was there.

“I can fix what happens to her today,” Mr. Harley replied. “Then maybe being broken won’t be so bad for her.”

A rare expression crossed the Octoboss’s face: one of remorse, maybe, or at least appreciation. He nodded.

“You’re too good a man for this world, Mr. Harley. I’m glad you got Mr. Davidson to look out for you.” He held out a hand. “We square?”

Mr. Harley regarded him for a moment. “Square,” he said at last, and accepted the handshake.

“Good talk.” The Octoboss turned away, back to the camp of his Mortifiers.

“Everything good between you two?” Mr. Davidson asked as his partner trudged into the campsite. He had a fuel pump disassembled and spread out in front of him.

“Yeah. Just straightening some stuff out.”

“So we don’t have to worry about him shanking us in our sleep.”

Mr. Harley managed a laugh at that one. “You know he don’t like to do nobody except they’re awake and facing him.”

This got a chuckle out of Mr. Davidson as well. “Yeah, he’s a better man than me, that way. Not as good a man as you, though.” He smiled fondly at his partner. Mr. Harley looked back at where the kennel trailer was parked.

“We ain’t good people. None of us.”

“Yeah, I suppose we aren’t.” Mr. Davidson laid a hand on his shoulder. “It’ll work out. For you, for me, for all of us. Even for the kid. I promise.”

[octuscle]

Branko

Sebastian was angry. Actually, at himself, of course. He hadn't bothered to find an internship and now had to take the place assigned to him by the school at the local Harley Davidson dealership for the next two weeks. But on the outside, he was angry at his parents. After all, it was their job to care. For the 16 years of his life, he didn't have to worry about anything. His father was a successful lawyer in Zurich, and his mother had brought so much money into the marriage from his grandfather's inheritance that even though she had finished medical school, she really only spent her time shopping. And with taking care of him, the only son. Why hadn't the two of them organized an internship somewhere where he could have had two relaxing weeks and maintained his Instagram account.

His mother stopped the impressive Bentley Bentayga and Sebastian got out of the car without a word of goodbye with a grumpy face. A couple of motorcycle repair shop employees standing smoking in the parking lot nodded at him with respect for the car; he ignored it and went straight into the building, hoping to get through the day with as few social contacts as possible. The general manager welcomed him personally (presumably because his father was a good customer), gave him a little tour of the offices, the showrooms, and then into the garage, where Sebastian was introduced to the shop foreman. The garage was the first stop during the internship. And he wondered for the thousandth time why he was here. In life, he would not ride a motorcycle. And in life, he wouldn't get his fingers dirty on a motorcycle. After all, the coffee he was offered wasn't bad. Really good, to be honest. And in fact, after the second coffee, somehow everything was different. The motorcycles were fascinating. And Sebastian began to soak up all the information. And with every coffee that the workshop master handed him with a grin, his interest grew. Time flew by, Sebastian struck up a conversation with the other colleagues and gratefully accepted one of the journeymen's offer to take him home. With his oil-smeared clothes, which were not really suitable for work in the garage, he would not have wanted to get into the Bentley.

The next morning, the alarm clock rang at 05:00. Sebastian was used to that. Since he had started his apprenticeship a year ago, he had become an early riser. He pulled a reasonably clean shirt and his shorts from the pile of dirty laundry, put on his running shoes, and made his rounds at dawn. After an hour, he threw his sweaty clothes in the corner, just kept the jockstrap and socks on, and without wasting time showering, put on his overalls and work shoes and quietly left the house. His effeminate parents, of course, were still sound asleep. At the bus stop, he smoked his first cigarette of the day. He wasn't allowed to smoke at home. He couldn't wait until he had his own apartment. And his driver's license. He liked his life, but being dependent on the bus and having to obey his parents was really exhausting. He was all the happier when he arrived at work. He loved listening to the engines of the heavy machines and, according to his foreman, had a talent for teasing the last out of the engines. His dream was to start in the tuning business after completing his apprenticeship.

Wednesdays were vocational school days. He hated school. Everything to do with math was okay, he could use that to tinker with the engines. But he had a hard time with languages. His mother was half Bosnian, so he had picked up a few words of Serbian, Bosnian and Croatian, but English wasn't his... Because he wasn't going to the garage today, Sebastian took a quick shower after his run. While drying off in front of the mirror, he proudly remarked that he had inherited not only the language from his grandfather, but also good genes. Unlike his effeminate father, he had a rather strong beard growth and more and more black hair grew between his abdominal muscles. When he showered with the other trainees after the gym or when they went to the outdoor pool after work in the summer, you could see that he was already further along in his development than the others at the age of 18. Probably because of this, the others made fun of calling him by his middle name, Branko. At first he had hated the master for betraying his Bosnian roots, but today he was rather proud of it. Sebastian shaved his skull as he did every other day or so, put on a jogging suit and, before leaving the house, smoked a first hand-rolled cigarette with his mocha. Since he was allowed to live in the old gardener's apartment above the garage, the smoking ban was finally history. He threw on his alpha jacket, took his helmet and sat on his BMW. Of course he was ashamed in front of his older colleagues because of the pathetic 35 kw, but in two years he would finally be allowed to ride a real heavy Harley.

Thank God it was already Thursday. During the week, the gym always came up a little short, but on the weekend Branko would again pump to exhaustion. Since he lived in his own apartment near the garage, he had a weight bench, but working out in an atmosphere drenched in sweat and testosterone was just something else. For the past three years, he had been going to the gym regularly with his buddies from the garage, and he was very pleased with the results. Whenever possible, he worked out in just his undershirt. Working bare-chested had been tried, but had only resulted in the foreman calling him into the office. Behind lowered blinds Branko had then had to blow his boss. Since then, it happened every now and then. At first, Branko had thought he was the only gay in the company, but on second thought, it was obvious that leather, motors and muscles also attracted fags. And he considered himself good proof that gasoline in the blood and pleasure in engines went well with fun sucking cocks.

Since he had finished his apprenticeship at the top of his class, Branko really enjoyed not having to sweep out the garage on Fridays. It was 3:00 p.m., and he was sitting in the yard with the other fellows, drinking an after-work beer and taking a drag on his cigarette butt. This weekend he didn't have to work in sales on Saturday, which he quite enjoyed doing occasionally, this weekend belonged to the Gym and the boys. Let's see if the weather also allowed a ride on the bike. But for now, he had to make his way to his mother's store. Every Friday afternoon he had one of her girls polish up his body for the weekend. He might look macho, but for him that included manicured fingers, a carefully trimmed beard, and a freshly waxed back. Like his Bosnian uncles, Branko had had strong body hair from an early age. He loved the developing fur on his chest. But hair had no place on his shoulders or back. His mother once again greeted him somewhat effusively when he entered her salon. Branko was always a little embarrassed. Especially since people who didn't know him and his mother might mistake him for her lover. At 34, his mother, who had already come to Switzerland pregnant from Banja Luka, was just 14 years older than him. And his father's money had not only been seed money for a successful cosmetics empire, it had also ensured that his mother was the epitome of a MILF. Lots of exercise and plenty of visits to talented plastic surgeons had ensured a flawless body.

On Saturday, too, the alarm clock went off at 05:00. Without discipline, the muscles did not grow. And before the gym opened at 07:00, Branko put great emphasis on the previous running training and, of course, on plenty of protein for breakfast. Besides, he was not a night person even on weekends. He had been smoking a shisha with the guys yesterday, had fucked the horny Serbian waiter in the toilet and had been in bed at 22:00. And he was sure that there was plenty to fuck in the gym afterwards. When the beads of sweat glistened in his chest hair, he was simply irresistible. It had been a warm night. So Branko ran the twelve-kilometer morning lap bare-chested. And afterwards, unshowered, got right into the Dainese motorcycle suit. He loved the smell of sweat, cum and leather that hit him. When the engine of his brand new Ducati howled up, he got a boner right away. At 21 years old, he was a jerk-off template made flesh. And he knew it.

Before the Sunday visit to his parents, a shower was on the agenda. His parents already found it borderline when he came to brunch with his Harley. Otherwise, he could at least be well-groomed. Punctually at 11:00 am his Harley rolled over the gravel in the driveway. Even though he was now one of the big boys, he was a bit excited. But fortunately, neither his mother nor his father made any comment about the new tattoos that adorned his right forearm. Well, he had been less concerned with his father, after all, whose powerful torso was decorated with abundant signs of Albanian and Swiss national pride. And more importantly, his mother's ratty youngest brother showed great interest in the tattoos. After dinner, Branko showed Dragan the rest of the new tattoos and his new PA upstairs in the old gardener's apartment.

Monday morning Branko was already at the gym at 05:30. The cardio training Dragan and he had more than ample yesterday, but the muscles desperately needed to be pumped up again before work. Thank God the Serbian muscle hunk had an early shift today. At least he could talk to him. The blond Swiss, who usually worked at this time, probably despised him for his broken German. And Branko despised the Swiss because, as a crossfitter, he didn't lift iron. In the garage, the week started at 08:00 with the meeting of the foremen and the department heads. One of the few moments during the week when Branko had his upper arms covered at work. Whereby his supervisor had also rolled up his T-shirt sleeves quite unabashedly. Really massive arms, Branko thought....

Sunrise was early on this Tuesday in June. But since Branko ran the Harley-Davidson branch in Tirana, it was important to him to answer the call to prayer at least three times a day. Many of his employees and also his customers were much more devout than he was. He had to adapt to this if he wanted to survive in this market. And when his father had sent him from Switzerland to the country of his fathers to build up the business there, Branko had resolved to make his parents proud. That's why he now went by his middle name, Granit, in public. It suited him much better, he thought with a grin. After praying, Branko once again examined the magnificent piece of machinery that was to be handed over to a customer this morning. If it wasn't so hot, Branko would have thrown on leather pants and jacket himself. But in hot temperatures, a tank top and combat pants had to suffice for a credible appearance. And he hoped that it would be hot again today.

[walkswithmycamera]

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Yellow Harley Davidson, Larnaka, Cyprus

And, no oil leak 👍

#photography #photooftheday #harleydavidson #borntobewild #motorcycle #motorbiking #yellow #chrome #shinyshiny #petrolhead #speedfreak #larnaca #cyprus

[wetsteve3]

1940 Harley-Davidson EL | USA

This motorcycle replaced a similar "V" series model, from which it inherited only fenders and generator. Otherwise it was a completely new model with a new frame.

During the first two years of production the series consisted of: model E with a medium compression engine as a solo model, ES model supplied with a sidecar and EL model - high compression 40 hp sports motorcycle. All three models received the same four-speed gearbox.

The footrests on the motorcycle are foldable and the dashboard is built into the teardrop tank. Oil for the dry-sump engine шs housed in a separate U-shaped tank mounted behind the engine.

During the first year of production customers discovered some problems with cracks in the frame and the frame was reinforced. The kickstarter and oil tank were also upgraded. On the "E" series models, the valve train became fully enclosed for the first time, finally eliminating oil loss on the road.

The military became interested in the EL motorcycle in 1939, and so a special army version of the motorcycle was developed - the ELA model, which featured more practical equipment, increased ground clearance, low compression cylinders, air cleaner with oil bath, reduced gear ratio and a standard army signal system.

[naturalbornworldshakers]

LIVE CHEAP-- NEVER DIE | THE PHOTOS BEHIND RICHARD ST. CLAIR'S BIKER ART-- JOIN TSY IN NEW HOPE, PA SATURDAY JUNE 17TH 6-9PM

“Beach Run” photograph by Richard St. Clair– Meet the artist Richard St. Clair and see his collection of oil paintings in person at the New Hope, PA TSY shop Saturday June 17th 6-9PM. You’ll see 12 of his original oil paintings alongside his original photography. “Beach Run” original 34″ x 34″ oil painting by the artist Richard St. Clair When I first met Richard St. Clair at his home outside of…

[reality-detective]

🔥DETOX STORY OF THE MILLENIUM🔥

HOW RUSSIA GOT RID OF THE GREAT RESET PUR EVIL GLOBALIST CABAL MAFIA CORPORATIONS??

THEY KICKED THEMSELVES OUT BY

SANCTIONING RUSSIA 🇷🇺

THE LOOSER LISTS:👇

▪️Apple Pay - complete blocking;

▪️Apple - complete exit from the market;

▪️Adidas - refusal to cooperate with the national soccer team;

▪️Audi - leaving the market;

▪️AMD - a ban on the supply of microchips and soon a ban on the supply of graphics cards;

▪️British Petrolium - 20% of shares have left Rosneft;

▪️BBC - withdrawal of broadcasting licenses;

▪️BMW - closing factories, blocking deliveries;

▪️Bolt - exiting the market;

▪️Boeing - exiting the market;

▪️Chevrolet - leaving the market;

▪️Danone - market exit together with a subsidiary of Prostokvashino;

▪️Disney - cancellation of all films;

▪️Dell - exit from the market;

▪️DHL - exit from the market;

▪️Eurovision - disqualification;

Ericsson - exit from the market;

▪️Exxon Mobil - recall all specialists of Russian oil companies;

▪️FedEx - complete ban on deliveries;

▪️Formula 1 - cancellation of the tournament in Sochi;

▪️Ford - closes all stores;

▪️FIFA - disqualification of the national team for the World Cup and ban on holding international matches in the Russian Federation;

▪️General Motors - stops exports.

▪️HP - ban on imports;

▪️Harley Davidson - stop deliveries;

▪️Intel - ban on the supply of microchips;

▪️Jaguar - leave the market;

▪️Lenovo - exit from the market;

▪️MOK - cancellation of all competitions;

▪️MasterCard - discontinuation of card production, closure of several banks;

▪️Megogo - cancel all Russian films;

▪️Mitsubishi - lay off employees from 141 service centers;

▪️Microsoft Office - multiple measures being discussed;

▪️Netflix - a freeze on Russian subscriptions, halting production of Russian TV series;

▪️Nike - delivery to Russia is closed;

▪️Nestle - closes all 6 factories in the Russian Federation;

▪️OnlyFans - closure of the country;

▪️PayPal - freezing accounts for withdrawals;

▪️Paramount - movie distribution block;

▪️PornHub - content access ban;

▪️Porsche - withdrawal from the Russian Federation;

▪️Renault - exit from the market;

▪️Samsung Pay - blocking of services;

▪️Scania - exit from the Russian Federation;

▪️Shell - termination of the contract with Gazprom;

▪️Sony - film distribution block;

▪️Twitter - it is impossible to register accounts for citizens of the Russian Federation;

▪️Toyota - stop deliveries;

▪️UEFA - cancellation of the Champions League final in St. Petersburg, ban on all clubs from participating in the Champions League and the Champions League

▪️Cancellation of contract with general sponsor Gazprom;

▪️UPS - complete ban on deliveries;

▪️Universal Pictures - film distribution block;

▪️Visa - blocking of banks under sanctions;

▪️Volvo - leave the Russian Federation;

▪️Yandex - exclusion of the company's shares from listing on the New York Stock Exchange;

▪️YouTube - blocked hundreds of RF channels and their monetization;

▪️Warner Bros. - cancellation of all film distribution;

▪️Volkswagen - out of the country.

▪️Zoom - revocation of software development licenses.

Russia is already living the dream 🤔

[shieldretired]

Important question: What's Steve's favourite sexy roleplay idea?

Random questions (always accepting)

Imagine a garage and a nice, shiny Harley Davidson, and his partner dressed in low-sitting pants and an oil-stained muscle shirt (that hopefully shows off some tattoos as well), and here is Steve, a desperate customer with a broken bike, but he absolutely needs this bike repaired right away, dear Mister Mechanic, but oh no, he doesn't have any money with him, can Steve maybe pay in a different currency...?

[rabbitcruiser]

National Motorcycle Ride Day

The second Saturday of October is celebrated as National Motorcycle Ride Day and aren’t we all grateful for this blessing of a day. The first motorcycle was built in 1885 in Germany and has been dominating the roads ever since. Their popularity has brought about various motorcycle types, the major ones being street, off-road, and dual purpose. These are further divided into many subtypes; these subtypes often have a racing counterpart.

History of National Motorcycle Ride Day

For many, the motorcycle is more than a means of transportation, it is an experience, a feeling, an adventure like no other. It is often associated with emancipation, the desire to break free from all the chains. It comes as no surprise the motorcycle has managed to secure its place in everyone’s heart. It is one adrenaline-filled ticket to your freedom.

The first motorcycle came into existence in 1885, when Gottlieb Daimler and Wilhelm Maybach, two German inventors, built an internal combustion gasoline-fueled motorcycle. It was named “Daimler Reitwagen” (riding wagon), the first of the modern motorcycles that we all know today. This invention inspired many others, who began making their versions of the self-propelled bicycle.

In 1894, Hildebrand & Wolfmüller became the first series production motorcycle. Soon, other big companies joined the bandwagon, such as English Royal Enfield, Triumph, American Harley-Davidson, Indian Motorcycle Manufacturing Company.

Motorcycle production escalated during the First World War, to improve communication systems with front-line troops. Motorcycles replaced messengers on horses with dispatch riders who carried messages, conducted reconnaissance activities, and acted as military police. After the Second World War, the motorcycle industry experienced widespread popularity brought about by lower costs, engineering advancements, and better road networks. Today, motorcycles represent one of the most affordable forms of transport all across the planet, with Asia-Pacific and Southern and Eastern Asia regions dominating the market. The evolution of the motorcycle from being an instrument of transportation to a thrill-packed adventure machine is why it deserves a special day of appreciation. And the month of October gives us the perfect opportunity to celebrate the wonders of this great invention.

National Motorcycle Ride Day timeline

1867

The First Coal-Fired Steam Engine Motorcycle

The Velocipede is a two-cylinder, steam-powered motorcycle.

1894

Officially Named

German company Hildebrand & Wolfmüller are the first to call it the “motorcycle.”

1903

Harley-Davidson

William Harley and his friends Arthur and Walter Davidson launch the Motor Company.

2015

National Motorcycle Ride Day

The holiday is founded for celebrating riding motorcycles in the fall weather.

National Motorcycle Ride Day FAQs

Is it difficult to ride a motorcycle?

Riding a motorcycle isn’t at all difficult. Although it may take some time to adapt to the motorcycle’s weight, controls, and maneuverability. For a beginner, it can take between two to eight weeks of daily practice to learn how to ride a motorcycle safely.

How much does it cost to maintain a motorcycle?

Costs come around $1,000 a year which includes regular maintenance (oil changes, chain maintenance, etc.). This needs to be done every 5,000 to 20,000 miles depending on the motorcycle.

Is it safe to ride a motorcycle in the rain?

One must steer clear of riding at the beginning of a storm, as the roads are full of brake fluid, oil, dirt, and other grime before it rains. Drive extra slow just after the storm begins when it’s still raining.

National Motorcycle Ride Day Activities

Join a riding groupTeam along with other enthusiasts to celebrate this day. Participate in riding events and discover a whole new world of adventure.

Plan a tripIt’s time to take that trip you have been planning for years. Search for the best and the most scenic places to ride the motorcycle.

Meet up with other ridersEverything gets better if you have someone to share it with. Connect with other bikers and plan activities together. Make the celebration a year-round event.

5 Interesting Facts About Motorcycles

Yamaha manufactured pianosYamaha is a multinational conglomerate that still produces musical instruments.

Tomato soup can carburetorA tomato soup can was used as a carburetor in the first Harley Davidson motorcycle.

Motorcycle theft monthsThe highest number of motorcycle thefts happen during July, August, and September.

The longest motorcycle jumpThe record for the longest motorcycle jump was set by Robbie Maddison in Melbourne, Australia, jumping 346 feet.

Harley-Davidson is the leading motorcycle manufacturerHarley-Davidson is the leading motorcycle manufacturer, producing 5.6 billion dollars in revenue in 2017 in the U.S. market.

Why We Love National Motorcycle Ride Day

Motorcycles are fun: The feeling of riding the wind cannot be put into words, one has to experience it themselves to know it. The exhilarating ride is enough to feed the starving soul. So if you want to experience what true freedom feels like, hop on and go wherever the road takes you.

They are affordable: Unlike the costly supercars, motorcycles can be extremely affordable, without cutting out the fun. They are an easy and affordable form of transportation that will get the work done without burning a hole in your pocket.

Motorcycles are environmentally friendly: Motorcycles are considered an environmentally friendly mode of transportation. Their low fuel consumption and lower per-mile carbon emissions make them a friend to the environment. Giving you a guilt-free adventure-packed ride that you need.

Source

[rise2ride]

First images of the Made in India Harley Davidson! 😍 - Expected to be around 400-450 cc single cylinder - Oil air cooled - Expected 30 Nm / 30 HP - Expected price 2.5L ex-showroom - Made by Hero MotoCorp #harleydavidson450 #harleydavidson #rise2ride https://www.instagram.com/p/CqsY1AvNQ53/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=