#Run-flat tyres London

[whiterose-motors]

The Importance of Seasonal Tyres: Improving Both Performance and Safety

When it involves vehicles' safety and overall performance, one trouble that is occasionally neglected but pretty crucial is the choice of tyres. To make sure that your car has the quality possible traction, deals with, and widespread safety, tyres are an essential thing for the reason that they function as the interface between your car and the street. When deciding on Cheap Tyres London, one of the most critical choices is whether to go together with all-season tyres or seasonal tyres, or whether to embrace the benefits of seasonal tyres.

1. Customized Traction Systems for a Wide Range of Conditions 

Optimum traction is provided through seasonal tires, which can be evolved in particular for numerous climate situations. These tyres are designed to fulfill the particular problems which are supplied via every season. Summer tires are designed to carry out very well in warm climate situations, presenting high ranges of traction on both dry and wet roads. On the opposite hand, winter tires are designed with unique rubber compositions and tread styles which might be intended to improve grip in conditions which are characterized by low temperatures, snow, and ice climates. By utilizing seasonal tyres, you are capable of providing your vehicle with the traction that is most appropriate for the weather situations that are presently in effect, therefore improving both protection and manipulation.

2. Enhanced Performance in Extreme Conditions:

Although all-season tyres are set up to carry out appropriately in lots of riding situations, they will not be the high-quality choice for riding in extreme climates. Seasonal tyres are bent with a selected reason in thought, which permits them to carry out better than their all-season foils in regard to positive weather situations. When temperatures dewdrop below freezing point, winter tyres, as an example, hold their suppleness, which lets them offer a stronger grip on snowy terrain. Summer tyres, instead, are capable of keeping their structural veracity even if bare to extremely excessive temperatures, which permits them to deliver unswerving performance even if the climate is hot.

3. A Development In The Performance Of The Brakes:

 Seasonal tires are designed to offer superior braking performance in terms of the weather situations they're designed for. The different tread patterns and rubber compositions, which might be the function of winter tyres, make them specifically powerful at decreasing preventing distances on roadways that are included in snow or ice. Tires designed for summer season use have rubber formulas that are proof against warmth, which lets in them offer stepped-forward braking performance in both warm and dry conditions. Using tires that are designed in particular for the season may additionally extensively reduce the likelihood of being involved in a coincidence with the aid of improving the velocity and safety with which your car can come to a halt.

4. Extended Tyre Lifespan, which incorporates:

Because seasonal tyres are used, it is feasible to take a more focused and specialized method for the usage of tyres. Using summertime tyres totally at some stage in the nice and cozy months and wintry weather tires simplest while the climate is cold can reduce the amount of damage and tear on every pair of tyres, so one can in the long run result in a longer lifespan for the vehicle as an entire. Considering that you might not ought to trade tyres as regularly as you will in any other case, this can bring about fee financial savings over the longer term.

5. Efficiency in Fuel Use:

Tyres are built with exclusive performance features, and they often have a higher fuel performance than diverse types of tyres. Tread patterns and rubber complexes that have been modified lead to a lessening in rolling resistance, which can bring about stepped-forward fuel cheap. Despite the truth that the influence of gas ingesting will be very little, the performance profits can be placid through the years, resulting in aids that can be helpful to the economy and the backgrounds.

6. Enhancements to the Vehicle's Stability and Handling:

To offer the highest possible stability and managing characteristics at some point in the seasons they're designed for, seasonal tires are intentionally designed. When driving on dry roads, summer season tyres have a tight grip, which improves the car's responsiveness and stability whilst cornering. Deep treads and flexible rubber are characteristics of winter tyres that contribute to stepped-forward grip and the management of slippery conditions. This individualized technique for tyre production ensures that your automobile will be managed with accuracy and self-guaranteed in an extensive riding style.

Therefore, in conclusion, the choice to pick out seasonal Run-flat tyres London for your vehicle is a strategic decision that could have a sizeable impact on the whole driving experience and the vehicle's safety and overall performance. Through the purchase of tyres that are in particular designed for every season, you provide your car with the resources it requires to barter a wide range of weather situations in a way that is both secure and powerful. Seasonal tyres offer grip, stability, and manipulation, which can be crucial for making every adventure more secure and more satisfying to enjoy. This is authentic whether the roads are ice during the wintry weather or blistering whilst the pavement is burning at some stage in the summer.

To know more, do reach out to us.

[24hrmobiletyrefittinglondon]

24hr mobile tyre fitting mechanics answer your common queries

A trained and skilled mechanic who provides the service of mobile tyre fitting west in London explains run flat tyres are a variety of tyres that is meant for modern vehicles.

Read more: https://www.justgetblogging.com/mobile-tyre-fitting-mechanics/

[onthecrosslook]

Ineffable Husbands hurt/comfort for the writing requests thing please?🥺👉👈

Something Quite Unlike Most

Anthony J. Crowley liked to pretend that he didn’t care. He was awfully fond of acting indifferent and cold to other demons of Hell, and even occasionally to his friend*, Aziraphale. Demons like him, well…they didn’t actually exist. He wasn’t really a demon* at all, to be entirely honest.

He wasn’t sure what he was.

But he knew damn well that he was kidding himself if he thought he couldn’t care less about Aziraphale.

Especially once he received a very urgent phone call from the angel himself.

His phone rang once. Crowley didn’t pick up.

His phone rang again. Crowley glanced at it once or twice and didn’t pick up.

“I’m not going to pick up,” said Crowley as he picked up the phone upon hearing the third ring. Muttering a few colourful curses, he placed the receiver to his ear. “Yes, hullo, Angel, how are you?”

Aziraphale breathed a heavy sigh of relief. “Crowley? Oh, hello, dear! Er- well, I’d be doing well, but I’m in a bit of a pickle.” He chuckled nervously and yelped. “Well, you see…”

“What the dev- Er- God? What have you done, Angel?” He tried to hide the urgency in his voice as he tapped his fingers against his desk, but his concern* was clear.

“I may have…er…well, don’t laugh at me, Crowley!” Aziraphale demanded with a slight whimper.

“I won’t bloody laugh, just tell me what’s wrong!” Crowley demanded.

“Someone gave me an old book,” Aziraphale confessed. “He was a really, really lovely gentleman. He was very tall with rather wavy ginger hair and had very odd eyes and cheekbones.”

“What?” Crowley asked in a mix of astonishment and blatant horror.

“Oh, yes! I was quite fond of his eyes, multi-coloured. Looked like the stars!” Aziraphale smiled pleasantly while simultaneously wincing in pain. “Said his name was Ben*.”

“Ngk,” said Crowley.

“Something wrong, dear?” Aziraphale asked in classic angel fashion (even whilst being in pain).

Crowley sputtered out a string of nonsense in an panicked attempt to tell Aziraphale to throw the book into the Pacific Ocean. “Tha- that wasn’t some kind bloke, Angel. What was the book called?” He was seconds away from bolting out the door.

Aziraphale sounded sheepish. “Well, it had a different cover at first. I thought it was a first edition copy of Huckleberry Finn, can you imagine that? Then when I opened it up, the first page said ‘The Lesser Key of Solomon*. Bless me, I’ve- ow!- no idea what that means.”

“It means that an undesirable just- oh, bloody- oh, b-bloody, good G- Satan. Shit!” Crowley knew exactly who he was talking about, especially when he mentioned his former boss*. “Angel, I’m coming over right now!”

“Oh, take your time!” Aziraphale said kindly, before letting out a dainty “fuck” as a result of the excruciating pain he was in. “Sorry,” he said quickly. “Goodbye, Crowley!”

And then he hung up.

“Damn it, Angel!” Crowley hissed as he sprinted out of his flat and to his beloved black Bentley. He knew he only had a few minutes before Aziraphale* burst into flames or- worse! Something much worse!

Not realising he didn’t have his keys, Crowley accidentally willed the car to start and started driving like a man possessed. The other cars on the road parted in waves as he slammed down the accelerator and sped to Aziraphale’s bookstore*.

On its own, the car’s radio dial spun around and landed on a station that was blasting ‘The Show Must Go On’. Crowley glanced at it in surprise and adjusted his sunglasses, still not slowing down.

Inside, my heart is aching…

He spun around a corner and nearly hit a jaywalking pedestrian.

My makeup may be flaking, but my smile…

Crowley swallowed a lump forming in his throat, heart racing.

…still stays o-O-NnN- Nearly there, Crowley!

He flinched as the familiar voice of his ex-employer crept over him. His fingers tightened around the steering wheel.

Oh, don’t fret, darling. I’m sure he’ll be just fine.

“What do you want?” Crowley demanded, his voice shaking. “He didn’t bloody do a thing!”

But you did, didn’t you? You betrayed me, Crowley. What ever happened to our side?

“There was never any ‘our side’,” he spat. “You wanted to- to destroy the world!” Crowley scowled and tried to turn off the radio, but it sent an electrical shock coursing through his fingertips. “Shit! Shit!”

Don’t be so foolish, darling. Shame about that human, though. If Aziraphale dies, well…hahahahaha…

“Shut up!” Crowley roared, and just like that, the radio clicked off.

Silence filled the car as tyres screeched and the Bentley arrived at the bookshop.

“Angel?!” Crowley shouted as he slammed his car door shut and rushed inside.

The bell tinkled and Aziraphale looked up. “Oh- ow!- C-Crowley, hello, dear!” he said weakly. He was slumped against a bookshelf, his wings visible and extended for some reason. His pleasant smile hid an obvious truth.

He was dying.

Crowley’s gaze, frozen with fear, landed on his friend’s wings with horror. They were turning black with some sort of secreted oily goo and the feathers were falling off, and Aziraphale was pale. Paler than usual. Circles were dark under his unusually dull eyes, and trickles of blood were making their way down his lips.

“How do I fix this?” Crowley said in despair. “How? D-do- do I- I…Miracle. I can do a miracle, can’t I, Angel?”

Aziraphale lifted his head and met Crowley’s terrified eyes. “Dear, listen, I’ve…I’ve tried it. Didn’t work, I’m- I’m afraid.” He let out a little chuckle. “Foolish of me to check. Should never have- well…sit with me, dear. For a bit.”

Crowley nodded and gingerly sat by Aziraphale. “Angel, there…must be some-something. Anything at all, I’ll do. Please.”

“It’s all right, Crowley,” Aziraphale reassured him, before coughing loudly and dabbing a bit of blood away with a handkerchief. “We could have run away together, you know? You wanted to.”

“Alpha Centurion,” Crowley murmured. “There’s nothing?”

“Nothing,” Aziraphale whispered. “Take my hand, dear. Only for a while?”

Crowley nodded again and intertwined his fingers around Aziraphale’s own. “I…I…Please, Angel. Don’t leave me.”

“We’ve had six thousand years, Crowley. Isn’t that enough?” Aziraphale tried to smile, but he grimaced instead. “I’m…sorry.”

“No,” Crowley said. “It’ll never be enough. I…I love you, Angel. For six thousand bloody years, and now I’m going to lose you because of- of- fucking Satan!” Tears dripped down his sharp nose and he wiped them away with the back of his hand. “Angel?”

Aziraphale did not respond.

“A-Angel?” Crowley mumbled, sniffing and pushing his shoulder. “Angel, please…”

The ‘please’ didn’t work.

Crowley swallowed and stood up. He took a shuddering breath and staggered to Aziraphale’s desk.

“DAMN IT!” he shouted, but it didn’t feel like enough. “DAMN IT! DAMN IT, DAMN IT, DAMN- SHIT!” Crowley picked up the cursed book and threw it across the room. “WHY HIM? WHY- WHY HIM? FOR GOD’S- FUCKING! HELL!”

He didn’t notice, but he was radiating a power that hadn’t been seen in centuries as he sank to his knees in despair. His wings sprouted painfully from his back, black as night, as he struck the floor with his fists in anguish.

“AZIRAPHALE!” Crowley screamed* with such vigour that the bookstore shook, the lights of London flickered, and the ground trembled. “GOD!” He pounded the ground and cried out for someone, anyone, to hear him. The Powers that Be had decided to be especially cruel that day, leaving him to ponder why they had chosen Aziraphale- his* angel.

Crowley, for the first time in his entire existence, sobbed. All at once, his anger went away, and all that was left was a crushing sadness that left him slumped against a pile of books in unwavering agony. His soul was shattered and his mind was empty, an awful combination for a heartsick demon-but-only-just.

He was silent for a long time. The only sounds in the bookshop were the occasional shuddering sob, and even that steadily dissipated until the world finally quieted down.

A hand lay on Crowley’s shoulder.

He looked up.

“Do you love him?” an elderly woman asked.

Crowley blinked and nodded, trembling.

The woman smiled. “I suppose it is possible, then. For a demon to love an angel. For one to change one’s plan. One’s destiny.” She tilted Crowley’s chin up with delicate fingertips. “I ask you again, Anthony J. Crowley. Do you love Aziraphale?”

“Yes,” Crowley whispered, and his heart ached because he meant it, really and truly meant it.

“Well,” the woman whispered, her fingers beginning to glow golden, “it is decided. Your angel must be returned to you. It is not his time. And you have proven yourself worthy, Crowley. May you forever keep my trust.” She turned towards the fallen angel (the truly Fallen one) and waved her hand over his pale forehead.

A light bathed over Aziraphale, and his wings fluttered and straightened themselves, the colour returning to a radiant white. The blood vanished from his lips and his eyes grew bright. Then, slowly, carefully, his chest rose and fell with the effort of taking easy breaths.

Crowley couldn’t help but stare in astonishment. “Thank you,” he murmured, unsure of what else to say. “Can I ask, er…” He rubbed his forehead and crept to Aziraphale’s side. “Who- what are you, exactly?”

The woman laughed softly. “I’m ineffable,” she said gracefully, and her form flickered and dematerialised from the bookshop, leaving Crowley to wonder if he’d just witnessed a true and genuine, bonafide Miracle.

Aziraphale’s eyes slowly opened and gazed adoringly at Crowley. “Hello, dear,” he whispered, his cheeks rosy and healthy. “I must apologise for leaving you, if only for a moment.” He smiled sheepishly.

“You bloody bastard,” Crowley sniffed as he pulled Aziraphale to his chest and held him tightly. “I thought I’d lost you. For good.”

“I never want to leave you, Crowley,” Aziraphale replied. “Not for another thousand years, at least. You still owe me crapes, don’t you? Can’t possibly go without trying those.”

Crowley chuckled as his eyes burned. “As many crapes as you can eat, Angel.”

“You really are quite nice. The nicest demon I’ve ever met.”

“I dunno. I dunno if I’m a demon anymore.”

Aziraphale looked puzzled. “Then what?”

“I’m yours,” Crowley said, and took Aziraphale’s hand in his to lead him out of the bookstore.

In the end, they were all right.

It really was ineffable.

༺═──────────────═༻

*friend, meaning the Olde English and Germanic ancestor of the word ‘frēon’, which in turn originally meant ‘one who loves’.

*the demon I refer to, of course, is based on the Greek word ‘daimon’, which is defined as a ‘divine power, fat, or god’. Crowley was neither. The real translation means ‘replete with wisdom’. Crowley didn’t have that, either.

*this marked the sixth time Crowley had ever been concerned in his life. They all, of course, had been concerning Aziraphale in some way, shape, or form.

*if this sounds familiar, then it should.

*another name is ‘Salomon is Regis’. It’s a cursed grimoire of demonology. Demons fear its power.

*Satan couldn’t outright kill an angel, but he could trick an angel into killing himself. He was quite fond of stealing faces of popular celebrities to do this. Aziraphale, being Aziraphale, didn’t recognise him.

*the curse was so horrific that Aziraphale could not miracle himself free.

*he had the location memorised to demonstrate how little he cared for Aziraphale.

*it is said his grief was so great that it shook the Heavens.

*Crowley never truly wanted anything more in his entire life.

[iniyabasnet]

------ “Deep in her soul, however, she was waiting for something to happen. Like a sailor in distress, she would gaze out over the solitude of her life with desperate eyes, seeking some white sail in the mists of the far-off horizon.”

BASIC INFORMATION.

Full name: Iniya Basnet Nickname: Niya (to close friends only); Nini (to her sister - she detests this) Birthdate: 17 November, 1995 Age: 25 Zodiac: Scorpio sun, Virgo moon, Scorpio rising Gender: Demifem Pronouns: She/they Romantic orientation: Demiromantic Sexual orientation: Pansexual Nationality: British Ethnicity: Nepali Ranking: Power Affiliation: Pestilence

BACKGROUND.

Birthplace: Leicester, England Hometown: Leicester, England Social Class: Working class at birth, now upper-middle Educational achievements: 1st class degree in Architecture and Interdisciplinary Studies from University College London Father: Prashant Basnet Mother: Dhana Basnet (née Kasaju) Sibling(s): One older brother, Nabin (b. 1992); one younger sister, Pravina (b. 1997)

Pets: Two Siamese cats, Parish and Hadley Previous relationships: TBC Arrests: None Prison time: None

OCCUPATION & INCOME.

Current occupation: Property developer and interior designer Dream occupation: They’ve got the dream job, baby! Past job(s): Part time job in an estate agents while at university, developer at another property firm before starting her own. Spending habits: Iniya drops money like it’s going out of style. Clothes, furniture, dining out, alcohol, travel, drugs - anything and everything to fill the gaping hole and make them feel as though the illusion that they belong is real. In debt?: Professionally? Fuck no. Personally? Absolutely.

SKILLS & ABILITIES.

Physical strength: below average Speed: average Intelligence: above average Accuracy: above average Agility: average Stamina: average Teamwork: Poor. Iniya is an independent property developer for a reason - she has always and will always prefer working alone. Talents: Networking, multitasking, drawing, exceptional attention to detail Shortcomings: Short temper, distrustful, sensitive, greedy Languages spoken: Nepali (mother tongue); English (second language); Italian (professional proficiency); Arabic (learning) Drive?: Sure Jump-start a car?: No Change a flat tyre?: No Ride a bicycle?: Who can’t? Swim?: Like a fish Play an instrument?: Grade 8 cello Play chess?: Absolutely Braid hair?: Expertly Tie a tie?: Better than most Pick a lock?: Sort of Cook?: Prefers to dine out but is a surprisingly good cook.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE AND CHARACTERISTICS.

Faceclaim: Amita Suman Eye colour: Brown  Hair colour: Black Hair type: 1C, thick Glasses/contacts?: No Dominant hand: Left Height: 5’9” Weight: 9 stone Build: Willowy Exercise habits: Exercises religiously every morning at 5am (except Sundays, which are rest days); either swimming or running depending on their mood. Since joining Pestilence, they have also been attending weekly self-defence classes with a personal trainer. Skin tone: Medium-dark, neutral Tattoos: None Piercings: Lobes and secondaries in each ear; helix in left ear; nose piercing Marks/scars: They used to have several moles scattered across the expanse of their back, but had them surgically removed three years ago. They still have a birthmark, however, just above their left hip, though she’s considering having this removed too. Clothing style: Dark colours and neutrals; often tailored; textures; rarely wears patterns; covered up at work but unafraid to show skin when off the clock. Jewellery: Never seen without it, changes daily. They particularly love statement earrings. Allergies: None known Diet: Mostly healthy; loves meat and seafood; savoury over sweet.

PSYCHOLOGY.

MBTI type: INTJ Enneagram type: 3w4 (The Achiever/The Individualist) Moral Alignment: True neutral Temperament: Melancholic Element: Wood Emotional stability: Lacking. Iniya is highly sensitive, and a poorly timed critique or disagreement can really cut to the quick, causing them to lash out. Introvert or Extrovert?: Introvert Obsession: Their job, their image Phobias: Rats Drug use: Frequent. A bit too frequent, actually, and being in Pestilence certainly doesn’t help. Iniya uses drugs to counterbalance the complete rigidity they maintain in their professional life, giving them an avenue to let loose while simultaneously contributing to the specific lifestyle and image she has cultivated for herself. Mostly coke and MDMA, but if they’re out and someone offers her something else, she’ll probably take it. Alcohol use: See above Prone to violence?: Only verbally Prone to crying?: No Believe in love at first sight?: Absolutely not

MANNERISMS.

Accent: An entirely false RP accent. She began to fake it during her childhood, not a fan of the Leicester accent of their peers, and perfected it while at university. Hobbies: Spending money, hanging around PEST, drawing, looking after their cats Habits: Drinking, drug use, being entirely unsatisfied with their contractors Nervous ticks: Bouncing her knee Drives/motivations: Money, success, self-preservation Fears: Failure, irrelevancy Sense of humour?: Snarky and sarcastic Do they curse often?: Fairly often, usually for emphasis

FAVOURITES.

Animal: Cat Beverage: Whiskey sour Book: Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert Colour: Farrow and Ball’s Brinjal Food: She claims it’s the halibut from Le Gavroche, but it’s actually pork momos, their childhood comfort food Flower: White moth orchid Gem: Emerald Mode of transportation: Their black Bentley Continental GT Scent: Fresh paint Weather: Sunny but cool Vacation destination: Florence

ATTITUDES.

Greatest dream: To become the biggest property developer in London Greatest fear: Failure Most at ease when: At work, or alone in her home Least as ease when: Committing any act of physical violence Biggest achievement: Building their own business Biggest regret: Tying herself to Pestilence before looking at other options

[gwensgold]

BASIC INFORMATION.

Full name: Gwendolyn Willemijn Goldsmith (the third) Nickname: Gwen. Just call her Gwen. Suggestions are welcome. Birthdate: December 9, 1985 Age: Thirty five Zodiac: Sagittarius sun, scorpio moon, leo rising. Gender: Cis woman Pronouns: She/Her Romantic orientation: Lesbian Sexual orientation: Lesbian Nationality: English Ethnicity: White Ranking: Power Affiliation: Death

BACKGROUND.

Birthplace: London Hometown: London Social Class: Upper middle class Educational achievements: Spent five years trying to get a bachelor’s degree in business before quitting. Father: Lawson Goldsmith Mother: Maud Bentinck Sibling(s): Maisie, Angelica, Lawson junior Pets: Katherina ‘Kat’ the cat. Previous relationships: A lot of short-lived relationships, none that stuck long. Dated Kitty for three months years ago. Arrests: Spent a night drunk in jail once, back at university. Her parents made it go away. Prison time: None

OCCUPATION & INCOME.

Current occupation: Owner of the Pale Stallion. Dream occupation: Owner of the Pale Stallion. Baby, she’s fucking made it. Past job(s): Bar tender, some kind of internship, barista. Spending habits: She has had to reign it in quite a bit since cutting ties with her family, and as most of her money is tied into her business, she’s quite good at it. She likes to splurge on music, flowers and whacky decorations, and most importantly: gifts for those she loves. In debt?: Not any more.

SKILLS & ABILITIES.

Physical strength: above average Speed: average Intelligence: below average Accuracy: average Agility: average Stamina: above average Teamwork: Gwen prefers to work in teams, and is both good as a leader and a follower. Talents: Tricks with liquor bottles, drink mixing. Shortcomings: Poor emotional control. Languages spoken: English. A few words in Vietnamese. Drive?: Yes. Jump-start a car?: Yes. Change a flat tyre?: No. Ride a bicycle?: Yes. Swim?: Yes. Play an instrument?: Plays guitar semi-regularly. Play chess?: Poorly. Used to flip the board as a child a lot. Braid hair?: Yes. Tie a tie?: Yes. Pick a lock?: Poorly. Cook?: Yes, though Gwen is especially good at baking.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE AND CHARACTERISTICS.

Faceclaim: Evan Rachel Wood. Eye colour: Blue Hair colour: Naturally blonde, tends to lighten it a bit. Has had her hair in numerous colours. Hair type: 1B Glasses/contacts?: No Dominant hand: Left Height: 170cm/5′6 Build: Mesomorph Exercise habits: Trains semi-regularly, but also stands on her feet all day. Likes martial arts, hates running. Skin tone: Type I Tattoos: A skull tattoo in her neck, a wedding band tattoo to signify her marriage to May. Piercings: Has pierced both earlobes and a helix piercing. Marks/scars: Her hands are usual covered in some kind of scars, both from work and from throwing her fists at people/walls. Clothing style: Denim, graphic tees, plaid, leather, men’s button downs. Sneakers and/or doc martens. Very casual and comfortable, to be honest. Jewellery: Wears all her ear piercings at all time, likes a fun necklace from time to time. Allergies: None. Diet: Trying to become vegan. Trial and error. Has been fully vegetarian for a year.

PSYCHOLOGY.

MBTI type: ESTP, the entrepeneur. Enneagram type: Type 6, the loyalist. Moral Alignment: Chaotic neutral. Temperament: Sanguine. Element: Fire. Emotional stability: Hmmm. Gwen is prone to dramatic bursts of emotion, but she has found good outlets at this point in her life. So-so. Introvert or Extrovert?: Extrovert. Obsession: May. Good beer. Expanding her CD collection. Phobias: Losing what she has build. Drug use: Recreational, at times. Likes weed. Alcohol use: Near-daily, but not always to a point of inebriation. Prone to violence?: Yes. Has been since a child. Prone to crying?: No. Gwen struggles to cry. Believe in love at first sight?: Not until May, but it’s only retroactively that she calls it as much.

MANNERISMS.

Accent: Posh, with some London twang. Hobbies: Being around friends, playing and/or listening to music, pub crawls. Habits: Humming songs, winking, clapping her hands just once when excited. Stress baking. Nervous ticks: Kicking and punching walls. Lip biting. Ripping beer mats to shreds. Drives/motivations: Love and righteousness. Fears: Death losing this battle (and with that, her losing her loved ones), spiders, not being good enough. Sense of humour?: Thinks she’s hilarious. Sometimes, she’s right. Do they curse often?: Yes

FAVOURITES.

Animal: Cows. Beverage: Beer. Her favourite beer changes every month or so. Book: Gwen hates reading. Colour: Purplish pink. Food: Freshly baked cookies. Flower: Sunflower. Gem: Tiger’s eye. Mode of transportation: Motorcycle. Scent: May’s shampoo. Sport: Indoor rock climbing. Weather: Those first spring days where you can go out with just a thin jacket. Vacation destination: Gwen loves city trips to cities she hasn’t been yet so ... that’s hard to say.

ATTITUDES.

Greatest dream: Death achieving its goal and then finding peace with May and their family. Greatest fear: Losing May. Most at ease when: she’s with ... you guessed it, May. In their bed. Speaking quietly. Least as ease when: around her mother. Biggest achievement: Getting the Pale Stallion to where it is now, building it from its ashes to a popular venue. Biggest regret: Gwen tries to live without regrets, though she would change a thing or two about her coming out.

[geniegrayx]

TASK:  CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT

BASIC INFORMATION.

Full name:  Genie Gray Nickname:  She prefers Genie, she picked it for a reason. Birthdate:  4th of December, 1997 Age:  24 Zodiac: Sagittarius Sun/Aquarius Moon  Gender:  Trans Woman Pronouns:  She/Her Orientation:  Demisexual/romantic Nationality:  English Ethnicity:  White Ranking:  Angel Affiliation:  Pestilence

BACKGROUND.

Birthplace:  London Hometown:  London Social Class:  Lower Class Educational achievements:  She’s got her A Levels, and attended some Uni classes. She never went to university, but she attended some classes. Father:  Douglas Gray Mother: Eleanor Gray Sibling(s):  Fletcher Gray

Pets:  None Previous relationships:  None really Arrests:  A few Prison time:  No

OCCUPATION & INCOME.

Current occupation:  Bartender/Drug Dealer Dream occupation:  She’s not really sure. She hasn’t planned that far ahead. She thinks art forgery would be pretty awesome, but she knows fuck all about art. Still, you can hear some super bad ass things about that kind of world. Past job(s):  Self Employed Spending habits:  Pretty Good. Stealing habits, a little worse. In debt?:  No

SKILLS & ABILITIES.

Physical strength: below average Speed: above average Intelligence: average Accuracy: below average Agility: above average Stamina: average Teamwork:  Depends, but she’s pretty good at getting along with others. Talents:  Pickpocketing, Lock Picking, Hot Wiring cars, knowing where and where not to sell off stolen goods. Things like that.  Shortcomings:  She’s fairly naïve, and gets drawn into problems because she doesn’t realize how permanent her actions are sometimes.  Languages spoken:  English Drive?:  She has driven before, yes .... Jump-start a car?:  Yes Change a flat tyre?:  Yes Ride a bicycle?:  Yes Swim?:  Yes Play an instrument?:  No Play chess?:  No Braid hair?:  Yes Tie a tie?:  Yes Pick a lock?:  Yes Cook?:  Kind of

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE AND CHARACTERISTICS.

Faceclaim:  hunter schafer Eye colour:  Blue Hair colour:  Blonde Hair type:  Straight and thin Glasses/contacts?:  No Dominant hand:  Right Height:  5′10 Build:  Slim Exercise habits:  Running from the cops Skin tone:  Fair Tattoos:  No Piercings:  A few. Her ears and nose Marks/scars:  A few but nothing major Clothing style:  Eclectic, but leans towards grunge, with some pastel gothy influences Jewelry:  Nothing fancy. But she has a ton of accessories Allergies:  None that she knows of Diet:  Not great

PSYCHOLOGY.

MBTI type:  ESFP-A Enneagram type:  7w8 Moral Alignment:  Chaotic Neutral Temperament:  Sanguine Element:  Air Emotional stability:  She’s doing okay. Introvert or Extrovert?:  Extrovert Obsession:  Things. Phobias:  No phobias really Drug use:  None Alcohol use:  Not too often, surprisingly.  Prone to violence?:  No Prone to crying?:  She can be if she needs to be Believe in love at first sight?:  No

MANNERISMS.

Accent:  A working class London Accent  Hobbies:  Vandalizing things... Also, She’s actually got pretty good at fixing things, being handy. She finds it pretty fun. So, if something breaks in your house call Genie. ;) Nervous ticks: Chewing her nails Drives/motivations:  Freedom and Helping people who need it Fears:  Wasps, Jump Scares, Prison Sense of humour?:  Amazing Do they curse often?:  So often

FAVOURITES.

Animal:  Meerkats Beverage:  Dr. Pepper Book:  The Outsiders Colour:  Yellow Food:  Pretty much the entire McDonald’s menu Flower:  Sunflower Gem:  Opal Mode of transportation:  Jet pack is clearly the superior way to travel Scent:  Bacon & The smell of chlorine (or even bleach) makes her super nostalgic for summer, and swimming pools which hits something in her for some reason. Sport:  She isn’t a big sports person, but she will try anything as long as you don’t mind her being terrible at it. Weather:  Rain Vacation destination:  She’s never left London before

ATTITUDES.

Greatest dream:  To really make a difference for someone Greatest fear:  Causing someone to really suffer Most at ease when:  Late at night, running through the streets. Least as ease when:  Someone is accusing her of something. Biggest achievement:  ATM Stealing Jack’s super fancy vintage Aston Martin  Biggest regret:  She  doesn’t really like to live  with regrets, maybe joining up with Pestilence. She had a bit of a naïve and optimistic view of what it all kind of was.

[lauraxvardhamana]

BASIC INFORMATION.

Full name: Jeong Kyung-Soon


Nickname: Ky


Birthdate: January 3, 1990
Age: 31


Zodiac: Capricorn


Gender: Cis Woman


Pronouns: She/Her


Romantic orientation: Bisexual


Sexual orientation: Biromantic


Nationality: British


Ethnicity: Korean


Ranking: Power


Affiliation: Famine

BACKGROUND.

Birthplace: London, England 


Hometown: London, England 


Social Class: Upper Middle 

Class 
Educational achievements: Though uni wasn’t in the cards for her, she still passed her A-Levels, studying maths, business, psychology and languages.


Father: Jeong Young-Soo (deceased)


Mother: Jeong Hayoon


Sibling(s): n/a


Pets: n/a


Previous relationships: She’s had a few flings, went out with Rafael Jr for a hot sec but wasn’t into the whole “being a rebound” thing and ended it. Usually doesn’t have time for relationships and also doesn’t trust anyone enough to let them in/start a relationship. 


Arrests: n/a


Prison time: n/a

OCCUPATION & INCOME.

Current occupation: Manager at the Hippodrome.


Dream occupation: She’s never had the luxury to mull over “dream” jobs, or dreams at all. She’s good at her current job, which is what matters to her.


Past job(s): tutor, sales associate, waitress, bartender, casino manager. 


Spending habits: Responsible but occasionally indulgent ( her wardrobe can confirm ). She doesn’t have a scarcity mindset but she never wants to be in a position where she doesn’t have money to fall back on. She grew up with little and doesn’t fancy going back to that. 


In debt?: n/a

SKILLS & ABILITIES.

Physical strength: average 


Speed: average


Intelligence: above average 


Accuracy: above average


Agility: above average


Stamina: average


Teamwork: there’s a reason Batman works alone. She doesn’t like relying on others but is working on that, especially now that the truce is broken.


Talents: Charming, Quick Witted, Tenacious, Observant / Card Shark / Sleight of Hand, Linguistics, Bartending Tricks ( ask nicely and maybe she’ll show you…jk. She will not show you ).


Shortcomings: Acerbic, Calculating, Reticent, Unforgiving. Prefers to work alone. Little patience for inefficiency. 


Languages spoken: English, Korean, Cantonese, Passable Japanese & French


Drive?: Yes.


Jump-start a car?: Yes.


Change a flat tyre?: Yes.


Ride a bicycle?: Yes.


Swim?: Yes.


Play an instrument?: Ish. Piano growing up doesn’t play anymore.


Play chess?: Yes.


Braid hair?: Yes.


Tie a tie?: Yes.


Pick a lock?: Yes. Has brushed up on it recently. 


Cook?: Yes.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE AND CHARACTERISTICS.

Faceclaim: Jung Eun-chae


Eye colour: Dark Brown


Hair colour: Black


Hair type: Pin straight, Long, Smooth


Glasses/contacts?: Glasses for reading


Dominant hand: Ambidextrous.


Height: 5′ 7″ or 170.18 cm.


Weight: 112lbs or 51kg


Build: Slender, lithe


Exercise habits: Rock climbing a few days a week and running when she can manage.


Skin tone: Fair.


Tattoos: n/a.


Piercings: Earlobe and cartilage 


Marks/scars: Small scar on her knee from falling off her bike as a kid but otherwise no.


Clothing style: Sharp suits, velvet blazers, silk blouses. Clean, put together, powerful.


Jewellery: Simple gold jewellry outside of work with the occasional pearl or gemstone. When she’s at work, bigger, flashier pieces come into play.


Allergies: n/a though she doesn’t love dairy.


Diet: Healthy, lots of water and tea.

PSYCHOLOGY.

MBTI type: ISTJ / the Logistician 


Enneagram type: Enneagram 8 “The Challenger” w7 “The Maverick”


Moral Alignment: Chaotic Neutral 


Temperament: Choleric


Element: Earth


Emotional stability: Very stable. Kyung-Soon can be counted on to keep her wits about her, and stay steady in the midst of uncertainty. She’s not one to fall apart at a moment’s notice and stays calm under pressure. 


Introvert or Extrovert?: Introvert in the sense she gets her energy from being alone. Extrovert when it comes to work: wining and dining –– charming customers of the Hippodrome. 


Phobias: Being controlled.


Drug use: n/a


Alcohol use: Yes.


Prone to violence?: n/a


Prone to crying?: n/a


Believe in love at first sight?: n/a

MANNERISMS.

Accent: London – Voice Claim. Though she didn’t grow up in the nicest part of London, she did go to school in nicer parts ( scholarship’d, of course ) and spent most of her teenage years through adulthood working in nicer parts of the city that influenced her accent. Also, she’s got a proclivity for languages in general which made it easier to tailor her accent into what it naturally is now.


Hobbies: Who has time? 

Probably rock climbing, shopping.


Habits: Presses lips together when she’s annoyed.


Nervous ticks: She’d say n/a but when she’s impatient she usually cants her head to the side a bit.


Drives/motivations: Independence, personal gain, keeping her mum safe.


Fears: Lack of independence, being controlled, her mum getting hurt because of her.


Sense of humour?: Surprisingly yes –– caustic and a bit sharp but it’s there.


Do they curse often?: Not every other word but she does when needed.

FAVOURITES.

Animal: Foxes.


Beverage: Anything with gin really.


Book: The Picture of Dorian Gray.

Colour: Red & black.


Food: Bibimbap – easy to make which fits her busy lifestyle. Otherwise any type of sushi.


Flower: Magnolias


Gem: Ruby


Mode of transportation: Black Audi, gifted by Rafael Jr when they dated. She doesn’t really drive unless she’s going out of the city or farther than her usual circle. 


Scent: Iris & Vetiver


Sport: n/a


Weather: Cool autumn days with slightly cloudy skies


Vacation destination: n/a

ATTITUDES.

Greatest dream: Freedom. Never being in a position where that’s threatened. Kyung-Soon may think five steps ahead, but never years. Life changes too much for that.


Greatest fear: Being controlled. It’s happening a bit now and she haaates it.


Most at ease when: When she’s in charge/control of her own life.
Least as ease when: Being told what to do.


Biggest achievement: Being self made. 


Biggest regret: Not realizing sooner that success makes you a target for manipulation. Otherwise, she might’ve taken better care to remain innocuous and off the radar.

ADDITIONAL.

Overall, Kyung-Soon is a very private person so people see bits and pieces of this but rarely the full picture, or even close to it. She becomes who she needs to be for any given situation but I think that her various masks are wearing thin now and she feels like someone might see that and use it against her.

[rfjofficial]

Rafael Femenias Junior: Character Development (4/?)

BASIC INFORMATION.

Full name: Rafael Femenias Junior  Nickname: Raf, Junior Birthdate: August 7th, 1990  Age: 30  Zodiac: Leo  Gender: Cisgender Male Pronouns: He/Him Romantic orientation: Biromantic (Recent development) Sexual orientation: Bisexual (Recent development)  Nationality: English/Mexican (From his mother’s side)   Ethnicity: Spanish, Mexican, Puerto Rican  Ranking: Seraphim/Interim Horseman Affiliation: Famine

BACKGROUND.

Birthplace: London, England Hometown: London, England   Social Class: Upper   Educational achievements: BA in Economics and Management from Oxford (incidentally enough, Rafael managed to finish his degree by his own merit - even with barely passing grades) Father: Rafael Femenias Senior Mother: Alessandra Femenias Sibling(s): Alejandro Femenias (Deceased) Pets: His five-year-old dog, Alex   Previous relationships: If I listed each of Rafael’s romantic entanglements, I’d be here all night. Playboy extraordinaire has balanced many girlfriends throughout the years, as well as flings. Notable exes include his most serious girlfriend to date, Juno Warden (although University) and a romance with Kyung-Soon Arrests: Three arrests, dropped within five minutes of his father making a phone call. All for public indecency (of the ‘having sex in public areas’ variety)   Prison time: N/A

OCCUPATION & INCOME.

Current occupation: COO of Femenias Energy, Interim Horseman for Famine   Dream occupation: Does running away from responsibility count? Past job(s): Hah.   Spending habits: Terrible with his finances, it’s fortunate that he’s so obscenely rich it doesn’t matter  In debt?:  No

SKILLS & ABILITIES.

Physical strength: Average Speed: Above average Intelligence: Below Average (or so he thinks) Accuracy: Average Agility: Above Average Stamina: Average Teamwork: Surprisingly great team worker, provided that the project interests him Talents: A songbird - fantastic vocal range that he’s tuned over the years, charisma and extroversion  Shortcomings: Reckless, easily bored, and deeply insecure Languages spoken: English, Spanish, French, and Japanese Drive?: Yes  Jump-start a car?: No  Change a flat tyre?: No - he has people for that  Ride a bicycle?: Yes  Swim?: Yes  Play an instrument?: Yes - Rafael has a very impressive collection of vintage guitars, and has played for eighteen years now  Play chess?: Yes - Terrible player, though  Braid hair?: Yes, for both Jessica and Kitty (as well as his own when he tried the long hair vibe in his pre-teen years)  Tie a tie?: Yes   Pick a lock?: Yes - likely learned from Thomas so that he could break into his Papa’s tequila collection  Cook?: No 

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE AND CHARACTERISTICS.

Faceclaim: Diego Boneta   Eye colour: Hazel Eyes (Predominantly brown)   Hair colour: Light brown  Hair type: Curly  Glasses/contacts?: Reading glasses, used sporadically due to his vanity  Dominant hand: Right  Height: 5″8  Weight: 152 Pounds Build: Lean, with well-defined abs (one of the few things Rafael works hard at. You can blame his vanity for this one)   Exercise habits: Plays soccer once a week, works on his abdominal muscles and general weight lifting 2x a week. And also, of course, sexual activity of any kind to get his cardio in. Listen, Raf’s a very active guy, okay??? Skin tone: Olive skin Tattoos: N/A   Piercings: N/A  Marks/scars: A faint scar along his knee, from his early days as a Power  Clothing style: Fashion-forward and reeking of privilege. The kind of man that wears a white T-shirt underneath a twenty thousand pound, bespoke Italian suit  Jewellery: Currently wearing his father’s Horseman ring on his right pinky, gold chain with a cross around his neck, and one of his Swiss watches on his wrist Allergies: Peanuts Diet: Eats just about anything, but tries to keep it lean

PSYCHOLOGY.

MBTI type: The Turbulent Entrepreneur, ESTP-T   Enneagram type: Type 7 - The Enthusiast  Moral Alignment: Chaotic Good   Temperament: Emotional Element: Fire Emotional stability: Prone to recklessness and rash decision making, rooted in insecurity  Introvert or Extrovert?: Extrovert  Drug use: Everything under the sun, currently trying out sobriety  Alcohol use: Frequent, though some attempt at cutting back  Prone to violence?: Only when provoked, or when it seems like a good idea Prone to crying?: When the situation demands it, but he’s not above shedding a tear Believe in love at first sight?: Not necessarily, but Rafael does believe in energy and intuition. It’s allowed him to decide on people fairly quickly. Within 5 minutes of meeting Ikki, he was sure he’d be his best friend.

MANNERISMS.

Accent: English accent, with many Spanish inflections as his mother primarily spoke Spanish Hobbies: Music, sports, partying, and anything adrenaline-inducing. Rafael’s last adventure was an illegal car race in Tokyo last year  Habits: Sleeping in, feeding Ikki’s birds donuts without his knowledge, manwhoring  Nervous ticks: Refusal to make eye contact, drumming his fingers Drives/motivations: Protecting his family and, maybe, proving everyone wrong about his abilities  Fears: Everyone else proving him right about his inability to lead  Sense of humour?: Generally a good sense of humor, a little on the nose and crude Do they curse often?: Occasionally 

FAVOURITES.

Animal: Lions Beverage: Tequila (after his father) or scotch   Book: The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald  Colour: Red   Food: Rafael enjoys a wide range of foods. He is partial to either a traditional Spanish or Japanese breakfast, though   Flower: Sunflowers (his mother’s favorite - he used to purchase the majority of them at Zach’s father’s flower shop) Gem: Diamonds Mode of transportation: Either his red Lamborghini, or black Ferrari  Scent: Anything minimalist and subtle  Sport: Soccer   Weather: Warm  Vacation destination: Mexico or Spain

ATTITUDES.

Greatest dream: Being at peace with whoever it is, he’s destined to be  Greatest fear: Running out of time to figure it out  Most at ease when: Surrounded by his loved ones   Least as ease when: Confined to tight spaces, and forced to take things seriously  Biggest achievement: Not an achievement, but if you ask him, it’s having the family he has, the way he has them  Biggest regret: Spending so long fearing his future; Every time he misses a weekly visit to his mother (he’s only really missed a handful in as many as 14 years, but he regrets it each time)

ADDITIONAL.

Here you can add any additional stats that we might have missed!

[theuniversitychallengereview]

UC 51.01 - King’s College, London vs Glasgow

In preparation for tonight’s episode I replaced the flat tyre on my bike, which, if you are like me and refuse to actually take in any information when watching ‘How-To...’ videos, and instead opt to try and wing it, becoming incredibly riled in the process, is one of the only things in the world which has the potential to be infuriating and rewarding in equal measure. 

The maddening moment you realise that you have put the tyre on with the arrows facing in the wrong direction (because who knew that you could put a tyre on backwards) is matched only by the sweaty and oil-stained sense of accomplishment when the machine is finally back in one piece and all pumped up.

Likewise, the watching of an episode of University Challenge ebbs and flows in a similar way, with crushing troughs as you squint with your brain to try and figure out in which language Paxman has asked a question, followed by immense peaks as you pull an answer out of the bag before any of the contestants on the show. The same could probably be said of watching the England national team over the past month and a bit, with the rewarding part coming as a massive surprise to most in this country. 

Anyway, that particular campaign featured a tense 0-0 draw between England and Scotland, and tonight’s series of University Challenge opens with another such encounter, as King’s College, London take on the University of Glasgow (if you’re new around here, you’ll note that I am excellent at segues). 

Glasgow have an odd record of appearing in the opening match of a series, with this being their third consecutive curtain-raiser! The series before that they were on the second episode, and they also opened the batting in 2015. I don’t know what this means, and it probably doesn’t mean anything, but of their previous three such matches, they have a 2-1 record (although they did make it through to the play-offs in their one loss).

Their side this year is comprised of quizzers called Fairbairn and Cairns, whose names surely contain the highest number of consecutive rhyming syllables in the history of adjacent University Challenge contestants. If anyone can beat that please let me know. They also have a massive frog as their mascot. Make of that what you will. King’s are mascotted by a small lion, and have a member called Beard, though he does not have a beard. 

King’s Rashid gets the first starter of the series, recognising three clues relating to the word orange, and the Londoners take two bonuses on historical quotes. Glasgow’s Thomson hits back with Sylvia Plath, but they can only manage one bonus on sportspeople. No matter, Thomson buzzes in with another and they have the lead anyway. 

Neither team recognise the British netball league table for the first picture round, but Fairbairn picks up the bonuses with the next starter on Andre Geim, the first person to have one both an ig Nobel and Nobel prize.

Rashid stops Glasgow’s little run with a brilliant early buzz, and they close back within five points with two bonuses on the actor Lakeith Stanfield. Glasgow captain Cairns hits back with Dave Brubeck (Cairns looks like the kind of guy who would relish a bit of Dave Brubeck, so this is not all that surprising). 

He gets the next starter too, and Thomson recognises Johnny Cash for the music round (in one of the easiest music questions of all time, imo). They then struggled with Alicia Keys (’is that Emile Sande, it would be so embarrasing if we didn’t get Emile Sande’) and Common (’name a modern rapper, please’), before knocking Jay-Z (’is that Jay-Z? Yes, that’s Jay-Z’) out of the park.

A neg from Darulis lets King’s in for the first time in a while, but he makes up for it with Thus Spoke Zarathustra to take the next one. Glasgow are forty five points clear going into the second picture round, but this goes to King’s. The painting in question is A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte which is one of the only paintings I can ever remember the name of, although I was still beaten to the punch by Bedwin, who takes a second ten pointer in a row to put some real pressure on the Scots. 

There is then a neg from King’s, but Glasgow can’t pick it up and Bedwin takes her hat-trick with Helvellyn (she beat me to the punch again on this, despite the fact I climbed Helvellyn on Friday!). All of a sudden there are only five points in it! They could have tied it had they not gone with socialism instead of fascism for one of the previous bonus set, but it didn’t matter in the end because Beard takes the next starter with Tournament of the Field of the Cloth of Gold (although Paxman tells him he would have only needed The Field of the Cloth of Gold part) and there are five points in it the other way. 

They get another ten points with a few bonuses on marine ecosystems and there sounds the gong.

Final Score: King’s College, London 115 - 100 Glasgow

A very low-scoring game that, but entertaining nonetheless. Glasgow seemed very likeable, so its unfortunate that they have to go home, but you can’t be scoring 100 in a series opener and hoping to go through. Congratulations to King’s, who reach the second round for the second year in a row. 

Its good to be back, isn’t it! Thanks for returning if you are returning, and thanks for popping in if its your first time. I do this every week, so I’ll be back soon for UCL vs St Hilda’s College, Oxford

[24hrmobiletyrefittinglondon]

Get Premium Mobile Tyre Services with 24hr Mobile Tyre Fitting Anytime, Anywhere

As residents of the lovely Bushey area know, having a reliable car is essential for navigating life in this part of Hertfordshire. Between commuting to London, running errands around town, and weekend road trips, your vehicle's tyres take a beating on a daily basis. When you inevitably need new tyres or repairs, don't settle for the hassle of getting your car towed or waiting days for an open slot at the tyre shop. Instead, turn to the mobile convenience of 24hr mobile tyre fitting london.

Your Mobile Tyre Solution in Bushey

24hr mobile tyre fitting london brings their top-rated tyre services directly to you in Bushey and the surrounding areas with their fleet of full-service mobile vans. No more rearranging your schedule or wasting time sitting in a shop waiting area. Just book an appointment time that fits your needs and their certified technicians will come right to your door.

Each of their specialized service vans is stocked with an extensive inventory of tyres for all makes and models, so the technician can get you back on the road quickly with a fresh set or replacement for a flat or damaged tyre. From economy and premium passenger car tyres to SUV, truck, and performance fitments, they've got you covered.

But they offer far more than just tyre replacements. 24hr mobile tyre fitting london provides a comprehensive range of mobile tyre services in Bushey including:

Flat tyre repairs

Tyre rotations

Wheel balancing

Alignments

Tyre pressure monitoring system resets

Mounting and installation of new tyres

Their vans are fully equipped as mobile tyre workshops with all the equipment and technology to handle any tyre need with the utmost professionalism and quality. Using the latest tools and machinery, their ASE Certified technicians can do it all on-site at your home, office, or even stranded on the roadside.

The 24/7 Tyre Experts

What truly sets 24hr Mobile Tyre Fitting London apart is their ability to provide premium tyre services to Bushey and Greater London at any time of day or night. While most tyre shops close in the evenings and weekends, this mobile team operates 24 hours a day, 7 days a week to assist whenever you need them.

Whether it's a flat tyre early Monday morning before work, a nail in your tyre on your Saturday afternoon grocery run, or suspiciously low pressure detected at midnight, just give them a call! Their dispatch team will have a technician and mobile van en route to your location quickly to get you back up and running.

This level of 24/7 availability and rapid response times make 24hr mobile tyre fitting london a lifesaver for Bushey drivers facing unexpected tyre emergencies or requiring overnight service. You can get new tyres installed in time for your morning commute or have that slow leaking tyre repaired after the kids have gone to bed - no more missed work or ruined schedules.

Bushey's Superior Mobile Tyre Service

In addition to their mobility and 24/7 operations, 24hr mobile tyre fitting london takes great pride in delivering an exceptional full-service experience from start to finish. Their convenient online booking platform makes it easy to schedule a technician with upfront price quotes provided.

When the technician arrives at your location in Bushey, you can expect them to be prompt, professional, and meticulous in their work. They'll thoroughly inspect your vehicle, explain recommended services, and advise you on tyre selection and maintenance tips. Each appointment also includes a complimentary multi-point vehicle inspection report.

Throughout the service, they follow all industry best practices and safety protocols to work efficiently yet cautiously on your vehicle. From safely jacking and stabilizing it to properly torquing lug nuts with calibrated tools, no corners are cut.

Bushey residents consistently rave about the high-quality workmanship and attentive service they receive:

"The mobile van's ability to come straight to my home in Bushey is a gamechanger. I was able to get all my tyres replaced while working from home without ever leaving the house!" - Sarah B.

"Their 24/7 service was a lifesaver when I got a flat picking up my in-laws from the airport very late one night. The tech was there in no time to get us back on the road to Bushey quickly and safely." - Mark H.

"As someone who manages company cars for my employees in Bushey and North London, 24hr mobile tyre fitting and repair company is the only tyre company I can trust to deliver 5-star service whenever and wherever we need them." - Jack R., Operations Manager

When it comes time for new tyres, repairs, or maintenance, don't take chances with subpar service. Treat your vehicle right and take advantage of 24hr mobile tyre fitting's premium mobile tyre services in Bushey. With their expertise, state-of-the-art equipment, 24/7 availability, and attentive care, they are the superior choice for all your tyre needs in Bushey and throughout Greater London. Book your appointment today!

Source url: https://saucypost.com/get-premium-24hr-mobile-tyre-services-anytime/

[nimi-khan]

Basic Information

Full name: Tasneem Khan Pronunciation: Tus-neem Kh-ahn Nickname(s): Nimi (Nym-ee). TK (childhood nickname) Birthdate: October 24 Age: 35 Gender: Demiboy Pronouns: They/Them Romantic orientation: Panromantic Sexual orientation: Pansexual Nationality: British Pakistani Ethnicity: Pakistani   Current location: London, UK Living conditions: They’ve recently moved into live in a small two bedroom flat with their baby mama -- a woman named Aysha Farooqi. It’s a small space, but it’s comfortable. They’ve spent the last few months bickering over nursery colors and picking out rocking chairs as they slowly assemble a nursery. Their space, in comparison, is lacking, as if all of the effort and money these two have pooled together is going to taking care of this child. Their furniture doesn’t quite match and is covered with more paint stains than Aysha will admit to. The pair share a bedroom for now, but the plan is for them to save and move to a place where they can each have their own. Nimi is a fan of natural light and is often throwing open all of the windows and making sure all of their houseplants get some sun.

Background

Birthplace: London, UK Hometown: London, UK Social Class: Middle Class Educational achievements: *crickets chirp* Father: Imran Khan Mother: Minha Khan Sibling(s): Nadia(41), Amna(38), Zoha (38) Birth order: 4th child. Pets: There was a fam dog! Never one of their own. Previous relationships: They’ve had a couple! They burnt through them fast back in college and was probably a bit of an immature shithead at that time. They’ve been slower after that, making figuring themself out a priority first. They’ve had a few relationships since, but all had been slow to develop and figure out as Nimi stays cautious with their heart and the hearts of others. They’re in a open relationship right now with Aysha, which works well for them. Arrests: Yup...They had some dumb ass college days. Prison time: Nothing significant

Occupation & Income

Current occupation: Nurse! Dream occupation: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle Past job(s): Cashier, Barista, Receptionist. Spending habits: They spend way too much money on houseplants. Also baby shopping: they have to be convinced not to buy every onesie with a dumb phrase on it. In debt?: They owe some money to their parents that they’ve slowly been repaying. With the new baby on the horizon, their parents say to forget about it and to focus on making sure the little one has everything. Most valuable possession: AA chip.

Skills & Abilities

Physical strength: Average Speed:  Below Average Intelligence: Average Accuracy:  Average Agility:  Below Average Stamina: Above Average Teamwork:  They’re an extrovert who pulls energy and motivation out of working with teams and groups. They’re quick to follow directions and appreciate guidance. Talents/hobbies: Crosstitching, cartwheels, board games and tabletop gaming, drawing sharp ass eyeliner wings, gardening Shortcomings: Impulsive and naive Languages spoken: English, Urdu and a tiny bit of Hindi Drive?: Yeup Jump-start a car?: If someone reminds them which is positive and which is negative, yeah Change a flat tyre?: Nope Ride a bicycle?: Yes! Swim?: Yup. Play an instrument?: Used to know piano, hasn’t played in ages Play chess?: Yes! Braid hair?: Does their niece’s hair all the time Tie a tie?: Yeup Pick a lock?: Nope Cook?: They’re learning!

Physical Appearance & Characteristics

Faceclaim: Riz Ahmed Eye colour: Brown Hair colour: Black Hair type/style/length: Short Glasses/contacts?: None Dominant hand: Right Height: 5’8″ Weight: 145 lbs Build: Lean Exercise habits: Goes on runs in the morning and bikes often Skin tone: Golden brown Tattoos: A floral design on the upper thigh, Pride rainbow on the ankle. “no flowers. no rain” on the back of their arm. Matching dinosaur tatts with siblings. Six small circles on the wrist (saving throws). Piercings: A nose piercing. Both ears pierced, but doesn’t wear earrings often. Marks/scars: A scrape on the knee and hand from a bike fall. Clothing style: Bright and colorful. They wear lots of loose, billowy tops. You’ll often see them in lots of cardigans or loose sweaters. If it’s hot, they’re usually prefering tanks or sleeveless shirts over t shirts. They’re also a fan of showing collarbone.   Jewellery: Nose ring, sometimes switched out for a stud. For special events, or when they want to feel good, earrings come out. Makeup:  They used to wear a looot of makeup when younger but have settled down into something more comfortable lately. Usually eyeliner and maybe some concealer. Allergies: None! Diet: Don’t drink, don’t eat pork. Eats halal. Physical ailments: None.

Psychology

MBTI type: ENFP Enneagram type: Peacemaker Moral Alignment: Chaotic Good Temperament: Sanguine Element: Air Emotional stability: High anxiety and self consciousness Introvert or Extrovert? Extrovert Obsession(s): How people perceive them Compulsion(s): Alcoholism Phobia(s): Cruises, Scientologists Addiction(s): Alcohol, Drugs Drug use: Yup Alcohol use: Yikes Prone to violence?: Nope Prone to crying?: Yes Believe in love at first sight?: Sure, but not for them

Mannerisms

Accent: British I guess? Speech quirks: Stutters when nervous Habits: Grinding their teeth. Nervous ticks: Messing with their hair. Drives/motivations: Being a better version of themself. Self care. Fears: Loneliness. Sense of humour?: Goofy. Self deprecative at times. Do they curse often?: Sometimes.

Favourites

Animal: Turtles. Beverage: Roohafza Book:  The House Plant Expert by Dr. D. G. Hessayon Colour: Yellow Food: Mac & Cheese Flower: Anthirium Gem: Rose Quartz Mode of transportation: Biking Scent: Jasmine Sport: Competitive Hot Dog Eating? Weather: Being cozy on rainy days Vacation destination: Pakistan, dad’s village

Attitudes

Greatest dream: Being a good parent. Greatest fear: Loneliness, failing at being Most at ease when: Being the little spoon Least as ease when: they feel like they have something to prove Worst possible thing that could happen: Being somehow whisked away from their son’s birth and missing his whole life Biggest achievement: Nurse’s license Biggest regret: Lying to their siblings and stealing from them.

[scoutshonours]

t a s k :  q u e s t i o n n a i r e .

Basic Information

Full name: Scout Johnson. Pronunciation: Straightforward English pronunciation. Nickname(s): Josie, Scout the Scot. Birthdate: 21st April, 1998. Age: 22. Zodiac: Aries. Gender: Non-binary transfeminine.  Pronouns: They/them. Sexuality: Bi. Nationality: Scottish. Ethnicity: Afro-Dominican, Afro-Haitian, Taino, and Puerto-Rican. Current location: London. Living conditions: Teeny, tiny studio apartment with thin walls and creaky, carpeted floors. It has a kitchenette, which is stocked with a microwave and a kettle. The shower is right next to the toilet, and the toilet has a very weak flush that replenishes every five minutes. They keep most of their things in boxes under their bed. Despite all of this, their rent is sky-high.

Background

Birthplace: Edinburgh, Scotland. Hometown: London, England. Social Class: Upper middle class. Educational achievements: Scottish Advanced Highers (A1, A1, A); the first four years of a six-year Medicine MBBS BSc degree at UCL. Father: Angel Johnson Mother: Siara Pérez. Sibling(s): Only child. Birth order: Only child. Pets: Laika (German shepherd). Previous relationships: Aliyah (ex-girlfriend, together for 3 years). Arrests: None. Prison time: None.

Occupation & Income

Current occupation: Medical student at UCL. Dream occupation: Surgeon. Past job(s): Bartender. Spending habits: Primarily spends money on pub food or drinks at clubs. In debt?: Yes, tuition-related. Most valuable possession: Their computer.

Skills & Abilities

Physical strength: Above Average | Average | Below Average Speed: Above Average | Average | Below Average Intelligence: Above Average | Average | Below Average Accuracy: Above Average | Average | Below Average Agility: Above Average | Average | Below Average Stamina: Above Average | Average | Below Average Teamwork: As much as they love people, they actually prefer to work on their projects alone, because it allows them to work on their own schedule, as opposed to having to meet with study groups etc. However, they’re also not super against group projects, and for non-academic things they’re a big team player. Talents/hobbies: Volleyball, establishing and maintaining friendships (let’s be real, that’s a talent), morning runs or walks with Laika, spreadsheet-making, note-taking, memorizing. Shortcomings: Working/living outside of a schedule; recognizing people’s true motives; allowing people (and themselves) to be upset (especially with other people); creative tasks like painting or sewing. Languages spoken: English, Spanish, some Latin. Drive?: Yes. Jump-start a car?: No. Change a flat tyre?: No. Ride a bicycle?: Yes. Swim?: Yes. Play an instrument?: No. Play chess?: Yes. Braid hair?: Yes. Tie a tie?: No. Pick a lock?: No. Cook?: Yes, but only the basics.

Physical Appearance & Characteristics

Faceclaim: Indya Moore. Eye colour: Dark brown. Hair colour: Dark brown. Hair type/style/length: 3b, shoulder-length. Glasses/contacts?: Neither. Dominant hand: Ambidextrous, but originally right-handed. Height: 1.73 m. Weight: 120 lbs. Build: Slim. Exercise habits: Running 3 times a week, volleyball practice 3 times a week. Skin tone: Brown. Tattoos: A pair of lovebirds on their right arm; an ornate flower design on their left wrist. Piercings: Earlobes and helix. Marks/scars: Surgical scars from breast augmentation. Clothing style: Trendy, cute, colorful. Jewellery: Small gold hoops in every ear piercing, Allergies: Peanuts. Diet: Pescetarian. Physical ailments: An old knee injury that sometimes flares back up.

Psychology

MBTI type: ESFJ. Enneagram type: 3, The Achiever. Moral Alignment: Neutral Good. Temperament: Choleric / Sanguine. Element: Fire. Emotional stability: Quite stable. Introvert or Extrovert? Extrovert. Obsession(s): Success, good grades, being liked, being kind enough, changing the world. Compulsion(s): None. Phobia(s): Claustrophobia. Addiction(s): Caffeine. Drug use: None. Alcohol use: At parties and other social gatherings. Prone to violence?: No. Prone to crying?: No, they don’t like to ‘be a bother’ Believe in love at first sight?: Yes.

Mannerisms

Accent: A curious mix of Scottish and Spanish with American influences. Speech quirks: Saying ‘like’ and ‘you know’ a lot. Hobbies: Volleyball practice, planning events, going for a walk, going for a run, playing with Laika, going clubbing. Habits: Practicing anatomy while doing the dishes, talking to themselves while alone, talking to Laika like she understands. Nervous ticks: Picking at nails, biting lip. Drives/motivations: Helping people, changing the world for the better (in order to help more people), a personal sense of success, leaving a legacy. Fears: Failing (courses, tests, anything), falling behind their life schedule, anything happening to Laika, tight spaces. Sense of humour?: Yes. Do they curse often?: A normal amount for a Scot, which is to say a decent amount.

Favourites

Animal: Dogs. Beverage: Coffee. Book: The Pearl by John Steinbeck. Colour: Red. Food: Mushroom risotto. Flower: Sunflower. Gem: White opal. Mode of transportation: Walking. Scent: Lemon. Sport: Volleyball. Weather: Sunshine. Vacation destination: Italy.

Attitudes

Greatest dream: Becoming a surgeon and revolutionizing trans healthcare in the UK. Greatest fear: Failing at the above in any way. Most at ease when: Surrounded by friends. Least as ease when: Alone at the library at 4 am. Worst possible thing that could happen: Flunking a class. Biggest achievement: Getting into UCL. Biggest regret: Being rejected by Oxford and Cambridge.

[yasxgamal]

Basic Information

Full name: Yasin Gamal Pronunciation: ee-ah-ceen gah-mah-l Nickname(s): Yas, E. Birthdate: November 20th, 1986 Age: 34 Zodiac: Scorpio Gender: Male Pronouns: He/him/his Romantic orientation: Panromantic Sexual orientation: Pansexual Nationality: English Ethnicity: Egyptian Current location: London, UK Living conditions: Yas' place is a one-bedroom mess. It's a good flat, spacious and in a good location, all things considered, but he's not the best at decorating. Apart from the very odd artwork or two hanging crookedly on the walls, there isn't much more to it. He keeps his space clean and tidy when he has the time to do that, but it's not a very personal place. Also probably smells like smoke most of the time -- or, air freshener if he's trying to impress you.

Background

Birthplace: London, UK Hometown: London, UK Social Class: Wealthy if you count the parents' money, Middle if you consider his own money and lifestyle currently, and his tendencies to waste it all on cigarettes. Educational achievements: A really fancy degree in Computer Sciences and Computer Engineering at the most expensive college in the UK Father: Omar Gamal Mother: Safiya Gamal Sibling(s): Samir Gamal and Aisha Gamal. Birth order: Samir, Yas, Aisha is the youngest. Pets: Ramen, the stray cat that crawls in through his window and occasionally spends weeks sleeping inside, and then disappears for months on end. Previous relationships: One big relationship in college for 3 years, a miserable breakup. Then mostly only casual things after that, none he would consider true relationships. Arrests: N/A Prison time: N/A

Occupation & Income

Current occupation: Programmer for the Time Machine project Dream occupation: Programmer for the first working Time Machine Past job(s): College Era: various internships, waiter, freelance photographer for kids' parties, freelance I.T., tech teacher for the elderly, tech teacher for children, coder and manager for a pornographic film company's website. Post-College Era: has helped coding and programming several apps and softwares independently, then a stable job at GoodCore Software Ltd. as SQA Lead. Spending habits: Yas spends a lot on cigarettes and technology, but everything else he doesn't care enough for. In debt?: No Most valuable possession: Emotionally, his own laptop or phone, and all the photos and memories stored in them, as well as his work. Legally and monetarily, though, it's the BAFTA statuette from his sister, which he now gets to keep for a year because he won a bet (it's fine, she has more than one).

Skills & Abilities

Physical strength: Average Speed: Average Intelligence: Above Average when it comes to all things technology, Average on some other subjects. Accuracy: Average Agility: Above Average Stamina: Above Average Teamwork: Great in environments where everyone is delegated a certain job and he gets to do his thing in his corner to add to the mix. When it comes to people wanting to mess with his codes, he gets a bit stubborn and difficult to deal with. Shortcomings: often lets his pride ruin things, a bit of an inflated ego when it comes to his work, bad at communicating. Languages spoken: English, Arabic Drive?: Yes Jump-start a car?: No Change a flat tyre?: Yes Ride a bicycle?: Poorly Swim?: Yes Play an instrument?: If you count the guitar lessons in his childhood (he does) Play chess?: Yes Braid hair?: No Tie a tie?: Yes Pick a lock?: No Cook?: Yes, the very bare minimum, and he hardly does it.

Physical Appearance & Characteristics

Faceclaim: Rami Malek Eye colour: Greyish green Hair colour: Black Hair type/style/length: Shaved on the sides, originally short on top but it grows out too fast and he can't be bothered to get a haircut, so it grows out curly. When it starts to become a mop and look like he has a helmet of hair on, he cuts it short again, and repeats that cycle. Glasses/contacts?: No, but they're needed. He has shit eyesight and no one ever forced him to get glasses so he never did. Don't ask him to read any signs that are far away. Dominant hand: Right Height: 5'9 / 175cm Weight: 154 lb / 70kg Build: Slim Exercise habits: Nonexistent, but he does a lot of walking Skin tone: Olive (Type IV) Tattoos: The initials of his siblings, A.S. in a simple font, on the bottom of his ribs on his right side. They all have matching ones. He continuously tells them the joke that they should get a fourth sibling with an S name, so he can get A.S.S. tattooed instead. Piercings: None Marks/scars: Several small scars around his legs and arms, from climbing around and getting into trouble as a middle child desperate for attention. A more notorious scar runs up behind his left elbow from a night in college when he got wasted with his friends and had an accident with a knife (don't ask). Clothing style: Black, a lot of black. The most colourful thing in his closet might be a dark grey jumper. Very minimalistic in the sense that he never wears patterns or colours or graphic tees, it's always just very dry and kind of bland. He probably could get into fashion if he wanted to, but he feels bad spending so much of his hard-earned money on the high-fashion stuff. Also he can frequently be spotted wearing those compression gloves/braces on his hands, for carpal tunnel syndrome Jewellery: A couple necklaces that have no emotional attachment besides "I thought they were cool so I bought them", but he's never without them, even when they mostly just hang inside his shirts. Dabbles in rings if he's feeling fancy. Allergies: None Diet: Consists of mostly snacks. He occasionally buys the healthy kind, like a couple granola bars or some fruit, but if he's going through a big project, he'll only snack. Anything easy to eat with one hand goes. He does, however, understand the value of nutrition and that he needs to fuel his body properly every once in a while; when that happens, he resorts to ordering food from some healthy restaurant nearby. It's basically a couple salads a month and then nothing but Doritos for days straight. Physical ailments: Carpal tunnel syndrome happens often enough that it's almost chronic, because he doesn't usually take breaks or stretch his wrists out like he's supposed to. Back pain from sitting all day (and bad posture) is also so present that he barely notices it anymore.

Psychology

MBTI type: INTJ Enneagram type: Type Five Moral Alignment: Chaotic Neutral Temperament: Somewhere between Phlegmatic and Melancholic? Element: Water Emotional stability: Who is she! Introvert or Extrovert? Introvert Obsession(s): Outdoing his siblings, no matter how much he loves them Compulsion(s): Working to the point of forgetting to take care of himself Phobia(s): Acrophobia and atychiphobia Addiction(s): Cigarettes/Vaping Drug use: Sometimes wrongly and terribly pops an Adderall when pulling all-nighters. Has smoked weed before, but he doesn't love the slowness of when he gets high. Alcohol use: Not very often nowadays, but the occasional blackout still happens. He's known to become a completely different person when he drinks, much more loose and fun and happy, so he does it sparingly Prone to violence?: No Prone to crying?: No Believe in love at first sight?: Yes, but doesn't think he's the type to ever experience that, since it takes a while for him to get close to people, so he believes in it as an abstract concept

Mannerisms

Accent: RP English Speech quirks: A lot of pauses between words and sentences, since he often thinks a lot before he speaks. The occasional ums and uhs and some stuttering if his mind is working faster than he can speak, too. Hobbies: Photography, playing video games, reading novels (graphic or otherwise), finding passive-aggressive memes to send into the Gamal siblings groupchat Habits: Stealing wifi, smoking and vaping, ordering delivery of everything instead of getting it himself Nervous ticks: lip chewing, tapping fingers, bouncing one knee, scratching his neck/jaw or touching his nose Drives/motivations: It's all for the glory, babey Fears: Never achieving anything grand Sense of humour?: It goes as far as memes and roasting his loved ones, but not much further than that. He's usually not comfortable enough to crack jokes, but you might get a sarcastic comment or two if you're lucky. Deep down, he can be sharp and quick-witted, but it doesn't come out often, unless he's having drinks. Do they curse often?: Hecc yes, probably as a form of rebellion against his posh parents

Favourites

Animal: Tarsier Beverage: Strong black coffee with two spoons of sugar Book: Don Quixote, by Miguel de Cervantes Colour: Green Food: Zalabya Flower: Jasmine Gem: Peridot Mode of transportation: Walking, and if not, the metro Scent: Oranges Sport: Tennis Weather: Rainy enough that he doesn't feel anyone's judgement for staying inside all day Vacation destination: Japan

Attitudes

Greatest dream: Finally being famous for his work Greatest fear: Never achieving anything big enough to make him happy, and being forever miserable because of it Most at ease when: Left by himself or enjoying someone else's company that he's truly comfortable with, probably in silence, doing his own thing Least as ease when: Forced into environments where he has to put on fancy clothes and pretend to be enjoying himself when he's not. Alternatively: when he's going on hour 32 without any sleep and he's denied more coffee Worst possible thing that could happen: Achieving greatness but realising he needs something else in order to feel fulfilled and be happy Biggest achievement: His degree and hopefully the first working Time Machine Biggest regret: He doesn't like to say he regrets things, so there's nothing he'd call a huge regret. But if he had to say something, he'd probably say it was not telling that one high school crush that he liked them.

[timemachine16606]

27th International DeLorean Meeting, Hamburg - 24-28 July 2019

24th July

On the morning of 24th July I set off from North London to the Eurotunnel terminals outside of Folkestone.  I filled up with fuel at the Tesco petrol station nearby where I also found Mike (Mec), Dan and Samantha who had come from Essex. We were also in contact with Justin and Ben who came down the night before and stayed at the Holiday Inn around the corner.  We therefore decided to meet them at their hotel. Mike K and George were coming from Southampton and arrived at the hotel shortly after us.

At the Holiday Inn.

I decided to fill up on breakfast before the main part of this epic journey.

Mike K and George had personalised convoy T-Shirts made up for us.

Radios were distributed, Roger!

Inside the Eurotunnel Terminal in Folkestone. I was extremely hot, late 30 degrees celsius. Engine bay covers opened to aid engine cooling.

My 16606.

After being called we lined up ready for boarding.

The time came to board but as we approached the train someone had miscalculated since the train was full before we got there. We were led back up the opposite ramp over and down onto the parallel platform and back up the ramp and made to wait. This was testing with no functional handbrake.

I made it up the ramp and managed to park on a relatively flat area. Handbrake dilemma avoided.

Justin and the convoy gang out of their cars awaiting loading of the next train.

After much time in direct sunlight in these high temperatures we finally boarded.

Inside the carriage. Fortunately we all fitted within one carriage and thus had it to ourselves.

After the 35 minute crossing and debarring we were on our way. Firstly the stretch from the Eurotunnel terminal to the Belgium border.

Only 10 minutes in to the continental run Dan’s front passenger side wheel started smoking.

We pulled off into the nearest petrol station. After jacking it up and investigating it transpired that the brake calliper had ceased on. Once cooled and freed we where on our way again.

Into Belgium and another reason to pull over. This time Mike K and George had fuelling issues.

The heat was the main culprit but this still needed to be sorted.

The fuel relay was replaced. Testing initially looked promising but this turned out not to be the answer.

The front trunk was cleared.

With George getting into the trunk the team proceeded to inspect and then replace the fuel pump.

This appeared to have worked... We were then on our way again. By now we were several hours behind the intended schedule.

As the sun set further problems occurred. Mike’s car was still experiencing fuelling issues. The common factor to all the fuelling issues was the heat.

Once more, as the fuel cooled and the evening brought somewhat cooler temperatures we continued on to Arnhem in The Netherlands.

As we come close to entering The Netherlands this shot of 16606 and the hot air ballon was taken.

In Arnhem we made our way to the Holiday Inn about four hours later than intended.

Once in the car park, 16606 was left overnight.

25th July

The following morning we met up with Mark from The Netherlands and set off in convoy once more. As if yesterday wasn’t hot enough today would see temperatures hit 40 degrees celsius.

Part way along Mec, Mike and George got separated from the rest of us. It turned out Mike and George were facing further feeling issues.  We pulled in to a service area and waited about an hour for the stragglers to join us.  After refreshments and refuelling to put cool fuel into the car we set off again.

Not more than a few miles further on and Mike and George had to pull off the on-ramp to the autobahn outside Osnabrück where fortunately there was a pull-off area.  This time Mike decided to call it a day and get the car recovered.

The rest of the convoy headed off while George hitched a lift to get a rental car and Mike waited for the recovery vehicle.

Meanwhile the rest of us steamed on to Hamburg making good use of the lack of German Autobahn speed limits.  All I know was my speedometer needle stopped at 85mph.

Just around 5pm we arrived at the hotel and registered for the event.

That evening we were invited to the formal opening dinner by the German Delorean Owners Club where we were treated to a talk by Barrie Wills among other speakers.

26th July

The next morning circa 38 DeLorean’s set off for a visit to Lüneberg, south west of Hamburg, for a visit to this historic town.

In Lüneberg we had permission to park up on the otherwise pedestrianised town hall square.

Barrie Wills posed for these pictures with me and 16606.

It was also necessary to cover the windscreen to try to inhibit the direct scorching sunlight.

The owner of the former DeLorean of Sammy Davis Jr. was also present.

Other diverse DeLorean's were present including the above DeLorean World Tour car.

After much time kicking the tyres in the square we started our town tours.

Mid afternoon we set off for a location alongside the river Elbe for photo opportunities and ice cream.

That evening the UK contingent that was by then also joined by the “Flyers”, including Al, Alex, Arran, Carl, Julian and Lisa and went to the Dom, a massive fairground in the centre of Hamburg.

27th July

Saturday was Back to the Future day. We set off from the hotel to the Auswanderermuseum (Emigration Museum) BallinStadt Hamburg which had been turned in to Hill Valley, California.

Biff was there ready to apply those “two” coats of wax.

Biff’s Ford was also present.

George McFly’s BMW was also receiving the Biff Tannen Auto Detailing treatment.

The Time Machine made it to Twin Pines Mall.

Below, Stephen Wynn of the current DeLorean Motor Company was checking out the Time Machine.

16606 was having the Hill Valley experience.

16606 crashed through the twin pines but made such an impact that even the lone pine fell over leaving no pines in its’ wake.

Refreshments were courtesy of an unwanted “Welcome Home” cake that Lorraine McFly discarded after Uncle Joey failed to make parol! Pepsi Perfect was also on hand for liquid stimulation.

Saturday evening was the Enchantment Under The Sea Dance at the Old Timer Petrol Station in Hamburg.

Music was provided by Mikelonetwo.

28th July

Sunday morning meant the return journey, in one stretch, back to London. Mike and George were flying home which therefore left just four UK DeLorean's in the convoy. Whilst still warm, the weather was considerably more changeable.

Refuelling in Belgium.

Due to the intensity of the journey to ensure we made it in time for our allotted train not many photos were taken, however in the end we arrived in good time at the Eurotunnel terminal in France.

Upon Check in we were offered and took a train approximately one hour earlier. Once past security we parked up awaiting our call for boarding.

When called, which was incidentally about the time of our originally booked train due to delays, we followed the route to the platforms where we boarded the train.

Once more, and despite one DeLorean less, we had a carriage to ourselves.

As we arrived back in Blighty we each set off to our respective destinations, into the sunset.

[early-sxnsets]

You Look Better in Person

Archive Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18215168/chapters/43275707

Chapter 8/10 of It’s A Handheld Disaster

Word Count: 3030

Chapter Summary: Simon and Baz's first encounter leaves them both awestruck.

BAZ

It’s a bloody pain in my ass, headache of a drive. I barely got halfway through before turning off my music and just focusing on what I’d say--how I’d react. It isn’t just getting Snow, it’s seeing him. An experience that’s completely new to the both of us. Somehow, despite him saying he’s the scared one, I find myself being absolutely petrified. I (only slightly) doubt he’ll reject my offer of help, especially since I'm driving up the country to get him, but I do suspect him to be hesitant of me nonetheless.

Oddly enough, I feel none of that fear towards him. No matter what, I’ll be there for him. I’m not quite sure what to expect, though. Fuck if any expectations I have for him matters, really.

I’d thought too much over the drive. Frankly, I think too much overall. That, I need to stop.

Staring at my phone mindlessly truly proves it, given I don’t have half a brain cell to coherently read the maps as they show me around the city. Eventually, though (through trial and error), I find myself going down the same street twice, trying to spot a local park that's apparently down the road. Google Maps yells at me, telling me I’m rapidly approaching my destination (over and over, between each condescending “Recalculation”).

My heart pounds faster with each rotation of my wheels, making my vision all fuzzy and warped. Exhaling slowly, I peer around and spot someone lying on a bench in the centre of the park, dressed up in a hoodie, sweats, and trainers. They seem to be hugging a duffel bag close, as if everything that's left is inside of it. I can’t quite make much out of them, with to their hood being pulled tight around their face and all, but I can tell that they’re alone.

Once parked, I shoot Simon a quick text, trying to swallow back my fear of what's probably true. That it is him.

i’m in the black volvo in the lot

Suddenly, the head of the person shoots up, then starts looking around as their body rises. I still can’t see their face, shadowed down by the harsh lamp lights, but they seem to be facing me.

That… must be him.

He pulls himself to standing, a slight hunch in his shoulders as he hauls the bag over his left one. He’s broad, and a solid height, too. When the light catches the few hairs spilling from his hood, they shine a deep copper.

Each of his steps feel like a lifetime. Exhausted, heavy stomps of his feet onto the ground as he brings himself closer until he stands barely a yard away from the car. Shamelessly, I stare out the window, wide eyed and barely choking out a breath.

He’s absolutely, unbelievably handsome. Square jawed, curly haired, and blue, blue eyes. He’s got a near rugby build, and a tired, barely existent smile pressing his freckled and moled cheeks into creases. He is, without a doubt, one of the most the most gorgeous humans I’ve ever seen.

His hand rises up shakily, nearly forming a wave as he struggles to keep a face in a readable expression other than wordless, overworked sadness.

My hand slides down my door, finding the lock without me looking and flicking the doors unlocked with a clear click. I watch as he hesitates at first, looking between me and the car a few times. The fluorescent lights flicker as he swallows, neck bobbing along.

Eventually, he relents and slips into the passenger seat without taking his eyes off me once.

At first, we just stare. Silent, carefully timed breaths fill the car as we just look over one another. I must look tired; I feel tired. He looks it, too.

I cut off my own words before I speak. I know he is tired. I don’t even need to ask.

The bag pressed to his chest loosens slightly, slumping down onto his lap as he swallows again. I can’t stop myself from watching him, heart thumping. It’s unreal--he must be unreal.

“Hey,” he whispers, the same shock I’m wearing mirrored onto his face.

SIMON

He’s so beautiful that I can barely think of words. Of all things I could say, of all things I should say, none of them weasel out other than “Hey”.

Granted, I have nothing better to say, given I’d probably be stupid and call him every word I’m thinking of.

I’ve never quite met a bloke who’s as pretty as he is. Slate eyes, brown skin, and ink black hair that starts at a widow’s peak, falling onto his shoulders in the slightest of waves. Despite the dark circles under his eyes, he seems alert and a bit shaken, a hand gripping the shifting stick that’s resting clearly on “P”.

I can’t quite think of anything else to vocalize. I’ve cried too much tonight, and it’s really fucking late. I need to rest… I just want…

“Why were you at the park?” He asks, suddenly dropping my gaze. It’s fine, though--my eyes drift back down to his narrow, bony hands, gliding movements over the shift. He pushes it into “R”, pulling the car out of the spot before turning, flicking to “D”, and going. His hands are like the pictures. It’s relaxing.

“Hm? O-oh,” I say quietly, fiddling with the strap of my bag. With a glance from him towards my buckle, I realize I missed a step. Fuck. I click myself in, continuing, “I’d told Davy I-I was going to Penn’s all weekend f-for a school project after our fight, b-b-but I told Penn I was gr-grounded.”

“So…”

“So I’m stuck,” I add, gaze shifting out the window and staying there. “Nowhere to go.”

He’s silent for a second, the only sound filling the air being the popping of rocks under the tyres. Once down the street, and another street, and then another, he finally says something.

“I’ve got somewhere,” he finally starts. When I look at him, he’s avoidant--eyes unwaveringly ahead, and hands gripping the wheel so tight that his knuckles are pulled taunt. “It’s a bit far, though. You can nap, if you want. It’ll be some time.”

“Where..?”

“You’ll see when we’re there.” And with that, he’s silent again. Given the flatness of his answer, I don’t feel it proper to argue. Really, I can’t argue at all with the prospect of a rest.

So, I take it. I suppose I’m asleep for a few good hours before I’m jostled awake by the overwhelming, perpetually buzzing lights of a petrol station. It's still dark out.

I peer out to see Baz standing, glancing over his shoulder at the machine as his hands hold the pump. Instinctively, I pull my hoodie closer, finally getting a good look at him in some sort of full light.

Shit. He even looks good at the pump.

He catches my eyes briefly, staring back before quickly turning back away, and acting as if I don’t see him swallow sharply. I act like I didn’t see it either, especially not as he sits back in the car and looks towards me, but not directly at me. “Hungry?”

Always. “A bit.”

He wordlessly pulls up to the store of the station before turning back off the car. “Come on, I’ll cover you.”

Given I only have the little cash I had in my sock drawer on me, I don’t argue. Instead, I step out and follow him, glancing up once I'm entirely trailing behind him. He’s got a few good inches on me, which, frankly, makes me blush a good bit. Who gave him the right to be practically a supermodel?

“Get anything,” he says, and I do. Two bags of crisps, a bottle of chocolate milk, and a shitty, wrapped cinnamon roll. He just grabs a coffee, pouring an egregious amount of sugar and creamer into it before going up to pay. He doesn’t even flinch--just pays.

It feels odd. Looks odd. It’s like Aggie paying--a disregard of wealth beyond a comprehensive point.

Back in the car, he sips his drink, cringes, and waits until I’m buckled back in before going.

I’m up this time, and probably for the long run, as he starts driving again.

“So, where are we going?” I ask, twisting the cap off the milk and hearing the satisfying snap of the breaking seal. “I feel like I should allowed to know eventually.”

“London,” he responds borderline robotically, not bothering a look at me.

“Wait, fuck. London? Isn’t that--”

“Six hours, yes. You’ve slept for well over half the trip, don’t worry.” He risks a quick glance at me, and as if it were magic, I see him relax. His muscles drop the tension, and his seemingly permanent frown loosens to a genuine flash of concern. Then, as quickly as his composure went, it comes back. Like it was a flicker in his system. “Just rest.”

“How are you staying up?”

“Will power.”

I don’t stop the snort slipping out, biting my lip. “You really are a vampire, huh?”

His face relaxes back slightly, spreading into the smallest of smiles. “No, but that’d be more fun.”

I huff in agreement, letting myself grin along this time. “It would be, yeah.”

We fall silent again, but this time it’s a bit better. It’s an odd reminder that this, this Baz right in front of me, is the same one I’ve known for months. It’s just his flesh and blood--living and breathing body. A human.

I want to reach out and touch him, to see if he’s real. I nearly do so, but my mind stops me before my hand grips his. I think he catches sight of my reach, though, because the arm closest to me drops from the wheel, resting palm-up on the centre console.

Either it’s an invitation or a mistake. Both are something I’m dumb enough to work with.

My fingertips skate over his wrist first, glazing over the ridges where his veins sit. They ridge up, rising above the rest of his smooth arm and pumping below my touch. At first, he begins to retract before stopping himself and staying, opened up to me. A careful fingertip moves to trace the lines of his palm, my breath barely under control. He lets me have my time, and slowly yet surely, I settle my hand on top of his, fingers shifting until they’re locked between his.

His hand curls up first, holding tightly to mine, When I look at him, he’s lightly sucking on his lip, keeping his eyes trained forward as his thumb slowly slides over my hand.

If it wasn’t for the weight of the day, I might’ve started crying again. Instead, I find myself staring. I settle my head back onto the comfortable, leather headrest, eyes falling softly onto the sharp edges of his face. I trace them, thankful for each passing car of street light that illuminates the cabin just enough to let me see the details.

His eyes look puffy and dark, dark eyelashes falling onto his skin. His nose sits a bit high, and his brow seems aristocratic. His lips, at a natural downcurve, hang open in the slightest and look a bit shiny when he stops biting them.

He doesn’t put any attention onto me, but holds my hand against his comfortably, keeping the slow drag of his skin against mine. It isn't rough, like mine is, except for at his pads. They're calloused right at the tips.

I space out, watching him attentively until countryside fades into bright city lights, mixing with the creeping sun.

He pulls up into a lot, telling them the apartment number before the car climbs up into a space. Once parked, he lets go of my palm with a sorry look, glancing over me once before stepping out.

He doesn’t let me carry my bag, holding both his and mine in each arm. The walk is brief, and within minutes, he’s pushing a key into a small, comfortable London flat, letting me inside first.

The lights are all shut, and it's got the distinct layer of light dust to show it's been untouched for months. He confirms my sneaking suspicion even before I get to ask it.

“It's my aunt's,” he says away from me, settling my bag onto a chair and his on an adjacent one. “She travels in the winter to somewhere warmer, and leaves me a key to get away.”

“I know. I've followed you long enough, you know.” I'd smile if my cheeks weren't too weak to hold one.

After stealing a look at his blushing face, I drag myself to the bed, running a hand over the sheet slowly. The other side dips with Baz's weight as he settles down onto the edge, staring at the pulling sheets with his hand settling so close to mine.

I must be mad, because I reconnect my fingers with his on impulse.

At first, we're still. I'm standing, and he's sitting. We're statues, dimly lit by the outside life. He must not be brave, or maybe I just might be more stupid, because I'm the first to move. My fingers weave between his, hand pressing closer towards him as we remain in an odd silence.

I wish I knew what I was doing.

Even without a full mind, I know what feels right, and it's being as close to Baz as possible. So maybe I don't need to know exactly what I'm doing, I just need to know that it's good.

BAZ

I wish I knew what he was doing.

I know what I want. I want to wrap my arms around him and hold him close. I want us to bathe in the rising sun and forget everything else in the world.

I want his hood off, and I want my fingers in his hair.

I want it so bad that I stop thinking and I do it, reaching my hand out and slowly dragging the cotton-y cloth off. Out springs his hair, clearly darker in the faint lights, but sticking up and unruly. My hand hesitates, fingers hovering above his scalp before I feel his head tilt and rest against my palm.

It's thick. Unbrushed. Uses shit shampoo and probably rarely conditions.

Nonetheless, it's fantastic. I can barely explain feeling of just carding my fingers through it.

Simon's eyes fall only my face, dancing around before falling back shut. I can feel the rise and fall of his body with a heavy breath, making my heart nearly stop.

“Is this okay?” whisper, holding his head carefully. His curls bob with his nod, eyes still settled shut. “How… about sleeping?”

“What about it?”

“There's one bed, and a couch. I can sleep on the couch…”

He shakes his head, keeping against me. “‘M not shy,” he whispers as an odd invitation to share.

I'm definitely not the one to turn it down.

“Neither am I,” I whisper back, hand squeezing his. He just looks towards out touching skin, biting his lip while letting go to unlace his trainers. I take the hint to unlace my own shoes, settling them aside before tugging at the blankets. He shifts, allowing me to turn them down and slip inside. He doesn't follow, lying above the blanket.

“Aren't you cold?” I murmur, turning to my side. He mirrors, propping himself on his elbow.

“Rarely.”

“Why?”

He shrugs, heavy eyes falling back shut.

I want to prove it for myself.

My hand reaches out, fingertips settling hesitantly onto his cheek. Surely enough, his it’s well warm under mine.

His lashes are short, but a gentle contrast against his skin as they flutter back open. They lay on my hand, then my own eyes, lip sucking into his mouth as he bites it. He's dead silent as he extends his hand, meeting my cheek with his palm.

“You're freezing,” he lets out, nose wrinkling. His hand doesn't move away.

“Always am.”

“Damn, I'm sorry.”

Helplessly, my face falls into an open smile, shamelessly relaxing. “It's fine. It's just… how it is.”

His eyes rest back on mine, staying there as his fingers flatten down. Eventually, I feel his thumb rub back and forth against my skin, hand cupping me gently. Like I'm some prized possession of his.

“Is it cold in here? Does it bother you?” His hand moves up and slips into my hair, pushing it back with a slow drag. I feel my heart flutter, mouth parting open as I sink into the feeling.

“No,” I finally respond. There's so much to be said, but it feels like we're tiptoeing around it. A slow, languishing fight for affection from one another, and I don't quite know who's winning. “I'm rather comfortable.”

His head nods, my gentle grip falling out of his hair and settling onto his back. At a snail's pace, his hand slowly untangles from my hair and falls back to my face. As if I'd willed it to, his fingers rest onto my lips.

I risk a quick peck onto them, watching his cheeks flush at the motion. Yet, still, he's silent, keeping his fingers still.

I don't want to stop. I don't want to shut my eyes and rest, but as every second creeps on, so does my exhaustion. It isn't until my eyelids finally fall shut that I feel him scoot closer, arm draping around me.

He smells like cheap soap and chocolate milk. I wish I could smell him forever.

“You smell like cigarettes,” he tells me. His words burn like the guilt in my throat, still rough from the two I'd smoked earlier..

“Don't worry about it.”

A beat. Then, “I worry about you anyway.”

I don't know how to swallow that one.

Instead, I just keep my eyes shut, holding his still-linked hand tighter. “Don't worry about it now. We can talk about it tomorrow.”

He must be right in front of me. I can feel it--his slow exhale near my face. It's warm, and his forehead touches mine as he lowers it for a nod. “Sleep tight, Baz.”