#john deer engines

[enginesinc]

Exploring John Deere Engines: A Focus on San Antonio, Baton Rouge, and New Orleans

John Deere engines represent reliability, versatility, and power in various industries, from agriculture and construction to marine applications. For businesses and individuals in San Antonio, Baton Rouge, and New Orleans, John Deere engines offer tailored solutions, ensuring operational efficiency in unique regional demands.

1. Overview of John Deere Engines

John Deere engines stand out for their range of diesel and spark-ignited options, suitable for everything from heavy machinery to portable power generation. Known for efficiency, these engines come equipped with fuel-efficient technologies that meet strict emissions regulations. The modular design of many John Deere engine components allows for easier maintenance and repair, ensuring minimal downtime for essential operations.

2. Meeting Regional Needs: San Antonio

San Antonio is a bustling hub for construction, agriculture, and oil and gas industries. Given the city’s intense demands for durability and performance in engines, John Deere engines provide solutions that can handle heavy workloads under extreme conditions. San Antonio’s hot climate poses challenges for engine cooling, but John Deere’s advanced cooling systems ensure consistent performance.

Local support services in San Antonio facilitate easy access to repairs, parts, and maintenance. Furthermore, John Deere engines are ideal for agricultural businesses, with their reliability and fuel efficiency being crucial for year-round farming activities, including irrigation and crop harvesting.

3. Supporting Industrial Growth in Baton Rouge

Baton Rouge, Louisiana’s capital, is a major player in the petrochemical industry, with additional needs in manufacturing and construction. John Deere engines support Baton Rouge's industries by delivering power to machinery in production facilities and construction sites. The engines’ high torque output and durability make them well-suited for demanding industrial environments, providing reliability essential for the energy and manufacturing sectors.

John Deere also offers emission-compliant engines, addressing the region’s environmental concerns. These engines reduce the carbon footprint of Baton Rouge’s industrial operations while maintaining optimal performance, a balance necessary in a region committed to economic growth and environmental sustainability.

4. New Orleans’ Unique Requirements

New Orleans, known for its vibrant maritime industry, relies heavily on dependable marine engines for both commercial and recreational boats. John Deere marine engines are designed for prolonged and reliable use, making them ideal for the city’s busy port and offshore oil operations. Additionally, New Orleans often faces extreme weather conditions, including hurricanes, which can disrupt power supply. John Deere's standby generator engines provide critical backup power, ensuring continuity of operations for hospitals, emergency services, and businesses during outages.

The versatility of John Deere engines allows them to serve the unique requirements of New Orleans' marine sector, providing fuel efficiency and robust power in marine propulsion, auxiliary power, and other key applications.

5. Service and Support Across Regions

John Deere engine users in San Antonio, Baton Rouge, and New Orleans benefit from accessible service networks that provide parts, maintenance, and repairs. The regional John Deere dealerships and service centers are equipped to handle everything from routine engine maintenance to complex repairs, minimizing downtime and maximizing productivity. John Deere’s commitment to customer support ensures that, no matter the industry, clients have the resources they need for continuous operation.

For businesses needing custom-engineered solutions, John Deere’s service centers offer tailored modifications. These customizations enable businesses to align engine performance with specific application requirements, whether it’s enhancing fuel efficiency, adjusting for extreme temperatures, or optimizing for heavy-duty operations.

6. Environmental Impact and Efficiency

In regions increasingly aware of environmental impacts, John Deere’s engines adhere to stringent emissions standards without sacrificing power. This commitment to eco-friendly technology supports local efforts to reduce air pollution, especially in areas like Baton Rouge with heavy industrial activity. The engines’ energy efficiency translates into cost savings and reduced fuel consumption, a benefit highly appreciated by businesses looking to cut operational expenses while supporting environmental goals.

7. Future Trends: Innovations and Adaptations

The future of John Deere engines in San Antonio, Baton Rouge, and New Orleans includes advancements in renewable energy compatibility and digital monitoring systems. With innovations in remote monitoring, users can now oversee engine performance in real-time, anticipating maintenance needs before they become critical issues. This approach is particularly valuable in high-stakes industries like maritime and energy production, where unscheduled downtimes are costly.

Additionally, John Deere’s efforts in hybrid and alternative fuel engines align with future trends in energy use, making them well-suited to adapt as regulations and technologies evolve in favor of greener options.

John Deere engines serve as a reliable power source for San Antonio, Baton Rouge, and New Orleans, covering a wide range of applications from agriculture to maritime. Each of these locations benefits from the robust design, environmental compliance, and adaptability of John Deere engines, supported by a strong network of service and maintenance options. As industries in these regions continue to grow and evolve, John Deere remains committed to providing the technological innovations and reliable performance these communities need to thrive.For more information on John Deere engines and services in these regions, visit Engines Power.

[inthefallofasparrow]

They Literally Don't Make Things Like They Used To | SOME MORE NEWS

[luximagesimageryart]

John Deere Lanz

[maxiforcefl]

JOHN DEERE 9.0L / 6090 VALVES 

The Maxiforce Tech Tip for John Deere 9.0L 6090 engine valves provides detailed guidance on the proper maintenance and adjustment of these valves. The article emphasizes the importance of correct valve adjustment for optimal engine performance and longevity, covering procedures, tools, and specific tips to ensure accurate valve settings. 

[alfamarinespareparts]

What to Consider Before Choosing Marine Spare Parts?

Spare parts are essential to ensure smooth operations. With access to quality spare parts, it is possible to do timely repairs and replacements. Without reliable spare parts, the chances of downtime increase, and there will be maintenance delays. So, it is crucial to ensure effective procurement and management of spare parts.

There are a number of dealers who provide marine engine spares. With a variety of options, it can be difficult to make a choice. That is why, in this blog, we have shared some tips that can help you select the ideal spare parts for your marine engine.

Tips To Choose Quality Marine Spare Parts

Range of Products

There is a wide variety of spare parts available, from valves, fuel systems, and crankshafts to injectors and nozzles. It is important that the company you consider buying from provides a diverse range of marine engine spares. This way, you would be able to source all the Marine Spare Parts from one place(isn't it convenient, right?). 

Quality

Quality is a key factor when choosing spare parts. This is because reliable marine engine spares to ensure that the vessel, whether it is a ship or boat, operates efficiently. Plus, keeping spare parts handy allows the engineers to make any repairs required on the spot. So the main question now is how you can tell if the spare part you are considering buying is of top quality. The answer to it is that you must first check what kind of material the parts are made of. Aluminium and stainless steel are durable and noncorrosive metals. Choose spare parts made from either of these two metals.  Finally, remember to foresee whether the company has done thorough testing on the product. It is important to check this, as it lets you know that the spare part meets the highest quality standard. 

Compatibility

Imagine that you have finally bought the spare parts that you wanted for your ship or yacht. But the next thing you find out is that it doesn't fit in the engine. How dreadful this situation seems, isn't it? If you don't want this to happen to you in reality, then you must make sure that the spare parts you buy are compatible with the engine. You need to buy a spare part that is specifically made for your engine. Furthermore, you also need to ensure that the product is of the right size. Otherwise, if you end up buying a bigger or smaller part, then it won't fit in the engine. 

Delivery Time

Time is precious, and we know how important this quote is for marine enthusiasts. The ship has to sail on time without any delays, right? So it is important to ensure that the dealer can provide assurance of delivering the spare parts on time. Check their website and see whether their delivery time is suitable. 

Experience

When it comes to buying marine spare parts, checking for how long the company has been operating is crucial. This is because a business can run for a long time only when it is able to provide quality products. One more benefit of buying from a dealer with experience in the field is that they can give you valuable suggestions. As they have made deals with a variety of customers, they must have developed vast knowledge of different marine parts. Thus, they can suggest which spare part would be ideal for your vessel.

Reputation

Before you decide to buy from a company, make sure to look at the reviews that the previous customers left. But why take the hassle of reading feedback available on their website or under their Google Business Profile? This is because the reviews are a vote of confidence. Good reviews show that the company excels in providing high-quality spare parts. If the feedback from customers is not satisfactory, then you will save yourself money by wasting money on unworthy products.

Conclusion: Spare parts play a pivotal role in enhancing the performance of the engine while providing safety. By considering the above-mentioned factors, you can make a smart purchase. One company that has been successfully providing quality spare parts for years, along with John Deere Marine diesel engines, is Alfa Marine Spare Parts. You can check out their website for more information.

[onlyhappyvibes]

Cool John Deere tractor with a GM diesel engine

[mostlysignssomeportents]

The US Copyright Office frees the McFlurry

I'll be in TUCSON, AZ from November 8-10: I'm the GUEST OF HONOR at the TUSCON SCIENCE FICTION CONVENTION.

I have spent a quarter century obsessed with the weirdest corner of the weirdest section of the worst internet law on the US statute books: Section 1201 of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act, the 1998 law that makes it a felony to help someone change how their own computer works so it serves them, rather than a distant corporation.

Under DMCA 1201, giving someone a tool to "bypass an access control for a copyrighted work" is a felony punishable by a 5-year prison sentence and a $500k fine – for a first offense. This law can refer to access controls for traditional copyrighted works, like movies. Under DMCA 1201, if you help someone with photosensitive epilepsy add a plug-in to the Netflix player in their browser that blocks strobing pictures that can trigger seizures, you're a felon:

https://lists.w3.org/Archives/Public/public-html-media/2017Jul/0005.html

But software is a copyrighted work, and everything from printer cartridges to car-engine parts have software in them. If the manufacturer puts an "access control" on that software, they can send their customers (and competitors) to prison for passing around tools to help them fix their cars or use third-party ink.

Now, even though the DMCA is a copyright law (that's what the "C" in DMCA stands for, after all); and even though blocking video strobes, using third party ink, and fixing your car are not copyright violations, the DMCA can still send you to prison, for a long-ass time for doing these things, provided the manufacturer designs their product so that using it the way that suits you best involves getting around an "access control."

As you might expect, this is quite a tempting proposition for any manufacturer hoping to enshittify their products, because they know you can't legally disenshittify them. These access controls have metastasized into every kind of device imaginable.

Garage-door openers:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/09/lead-me-not-into-temptation/#chamberlain

Refrigerators:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/06/12/digital-feudalism/#filtergate

Dishwashers:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/03/cassette-rewinder/#disher-bob

Treadmills:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/22/vapescreen/#jane-get-me-off-this-crazy-thing

Tractors:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/23/reputation-laundry/#deere-john

Cars:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/28/edison-not-tesla/#demon-haunted-world

Printers:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/07/inky-wretches/#epson-salty

And even printer paper:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/16/unauthorized-paper/#dymo-550

DMCA 1201 is the brainchild of Bruce Lehmann, Bill Clinton's Copyright Czar, who was repeatedly warned that cancerous proliferation this was the foreseeable, inevitable outcome of his pet policy. As a sop to his critics, Lehman added a largely ornamental safety valve to his law, ordering the US Copyright Office to invite submissions every three years petitioning for "use exemptions" to the blanket ban on circumventing access-controls.

I call this "ornamental" because if the Copyright Office thinks that, say, it should be legal for you to bypass an access control to use third-party ink in your printer, or a third-party app store in your phone, all they can do under DMCA 1201 is grant you the right to use a circumvention tool. But they can't give you the right to acquire that tool.

I know that sounds confusing, but that's only because it's very, very stupid. How stupid? Well, in 2001, the US Trade Representative arm-twisted the EU into adopting its own version of this law (Article 6 of the EUCD), and in 2003, Norway added the law to its lawbooks. On the eve of that addition, I traveled to Oslo to debate the minister involved:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/10/28/clintons-ghost/#felony-contempt-of-business-model

The minister praised his law, explaining that it gave blind people the right to bypass access controls on ebooks so that they could feed them to screen readers, Braille printers, and other assistive tools. OK, I said, but how do they get the software that jailbreaks their ebooks so they can make use of this exemption? Am I allowed to give them that tool?

No, the minister said, you're not allowed to do that, that would be a crime.

Is the Norwegian government allowed to give them that tool? No. How about a blind rights advocacy group? No, not them either. A university computer science department? Nope. A commercial vendor? Certainly not.

No, the minister explained, under his law, a blind person would be expected to personally reverse engineer a program like Adobe E-Reader, in hopes of discovering a defect that they could exploit by writing a program to extract the ebook text.

Oh, I said. But if a blind person did manage to do this, could they supply that tool to other blind people?

Well, no, the minister said. Each and every blind person must personally – without any help from anyone else – figure out how to reverse-engineer the ebook program, and then individually author their own alternative reader program that worked with the text of their ebooks.

That is what is meant by a use exemption without a tools exemption. It's useless. A sick joke, even.

The US Copyright Office has been valiantly holding exemptions proceedings every three years since the start of this century, and they've granted many sensible exemptions, including ones to benefit people with disabilities, or to let you jailbreak your phone, or let media professors extract video clips from DVDs, and so on. Tens of thousands of person-hours have been flushed into this pointless exercise, generating a long list of things you are now technically allowed to do, but only if you are a reverse-engineering specialist type of computer programmer who can manage the process from beginning to end in total isolation and secrecy.

But there is one kind of use exception the Copyright Office can grant that is potentially game-changing: an exemption for decoding diagnostic codes.

You see, DMCA 1201 has been a critical weapon for the corporate anti-repair movement. By scrambling error codes in cars, tractors, appliances, insulin pumps, phones and other devices, manufacturers can wage war on independent repair, depriving third-party technicians of the diagnostic information they need to figure out how to fix your stuff and keep it going.

This is bad enough in normal times, but during the acute phase of the covid pandemic, hospitals found themselves unable to maintain their ventilators because of access controls. Nearly all ventilators come from a single med-tech monopolist, Medtronic, which charges hospitals hundreds of dollars to dispatch their own repair technicians to fix its products. But when covid ended nearly all travel, Medtronic could no longer provide on-site calls. Thankfully, an anonymous hacker started building homemade (illegal) circumvention devices to let hospital technicians fix the ventilators themselves, improvising housings for them from old clock radios, guitar pedals and whatever else was to hand, then mailing them anonymously to hospitals:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/10/flintstone-delano-roosevelt/#medtronic-again

Once a manufacturer monopolizes repair in this way, they can force you to use their official service depots, charging you as much as they'd like; requiring you to use their official, expensive replacement parts; and dictating when your gadget is "too broken to fix," forcing you to buy a new one. That's bad enough when we're talking about refusing to fix a phone so you buy a new one – but imagine having a spinal injury and relying on a $100,000 exoskeleton to get from place to place and prevent muscle wasting, clots, and other immobility-related conditions, only to have the manufacturer decide that the gadget is too old to fix and refusing to give you the technical assistance to replace a watch battery so that you can get around again:

https://www.theverge.com/2024/9/26/24255074/former-jockey-michael-straight-exoskeleton-repair-battery

When the US Copyright Office grants a use exemption for extracting diagnostic codes from a busted device, they empower repair advocates to put that gadget up on a workbench and torture it into giving up those codes. The codes can then be integrated into an unofficial diagnostic tool, one that can make sense of the scrambled, obfuscated error codes that a device sends when it breaks – without having to unscramble them. In other words, only the company that makes the diagnostic tool has to bypass an access control, but the people who use that tool later do not violate DMCA 1201.

This is all relevant this month because the US Copyright Office just released the latest batch of 1201 exemptions, and among them is the right to circumvent access controls "allowing for repair of retail-level food preparation equipment":

https://publicknowledge.org/public-knowledge-ifixit-free-the-mcflurry-win-copyright-office-dmca-exemption-for-ice-cream-machines/

While this covers all kinds of food prep gear, the exemption request – filed by Public Knowledge and Ifixit – was inspired by the bizarre war over the tragically fragile McFlurry machine. These machines – which extrude soft-serve frozen desserts – are notoriously failure-prone, with 5-16% of them broken at any given time. Taylor, the giant kitchen tech company that makes the machines, charges franchisees a fortune to repair them, producing a steady stream of profits for the company.

This sleazy business prompted some ice-cream hackers to found a startup called Kytch, a high-powered automation and diagnostic tool that was hugely popular with McDonald's franchisees (the gadget was partially designed by the legendary hardware hacker Andrew "bunnie" Huang!).

In response, Taylor played dirty, making a less-capable clone of the Kytch, trying to buy Kytch out, and teaming up with McDonald's corporate to bombard franchisees with legal scare-stories about the dangers of using a Kytch to keep their soft-serve flowing, thanks to DMCA 1201:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/20/euthanize-rentier-enablers/#cold-war

Kytch isn't the only beneficiary of the new exemption: all kinds of industrial kitchen equipment is covered. In upholding the Right to Repair, the Copyright Office overruled objections of some of its closest historical allies, the Entertainment Software Association, Motion Picture Association, and Recording Industry Association of America, who all sided with Taylor and McDonald's and opposed the exemption:

https://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/2024/10/us-copyright-office-frees-the-mcflurry-allowing-repair-of-ice-cream-machines/

This is literally the only useful kind of DMCA 1201 exemption the Copyright Office can grant, and the fact that they granted it (along with a similar exemption for medical devices) is a welcome bright spot. But make no mistake, the fact that we finally found a narrow way in which DMCA 1201 can be made slightly less stupid does not redeem this outrageous law. It should still be repealed and condemned to the scrapheap of history.

Tor Books as just published two new, free LITTLE BROTHER stories: VIGILANT, about creepy surveillance in distance education; and SPILL, about oil pipelines and indigenous landback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/28/mcbroken/#my-milkshake-brings-all-the-lawyers-to-the-yard

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[oecengineeringcorp]

"Won't you please..."

A permanent installment in our office. <3 Lovingly made mostly from square steel tubes, they have a 1940s John Deere fender light for a head. He runs security at night.

[alphabetsoup-blogposts]

The Tesla perspective you won't be getting from your news aggregator.

[peachetteprice]

Driving Habits | TF141

Disclaimer: Some of these are UK specific, including the style of car, manoeuvres, terminology, and gearbox. That's what happens when the boys live and work mostly in England! Also, I am almost taking my practical test in September, and I need to rant about certain habits. Sorry in advance to Soap and Ghost. Love you both, boys.

Credit to @soaps-mohawk for giving me the inspiration to explore this headcanon! It began with an exploration into what cars TF141 might drive! You can see the original post that inspired this here.

+ Including interactions when driving with an S/O!

Notorious one-handed driver. The other hand is either on the gearstick - just resting, contemplating - or mediating between the gearstick and your thigh. He loves a good reverse bay park. (He's an absolute beast at it, too. No need for minor adjustments. He just... knows the space. And he will make fun of you when you can't park as perfectly as him). Helps to get the shopping in better, because at least you can get to the boot! Has been known to swerve a little bit for birds in the road, but that's because he's an avid watcher, and the poor things get enough grief as it is - he wants to still be able to watch Robins and Thrushes in the trees on the weekend!

Captain John Price:

He does, however, neglect rabbits, foxes, badgers, squirrels, and rats. And the... occasional deer in Scotland? Not out of malice - not at all - but they're not worth swerving over and potentially causing a collision for. He might, only if you're with him - because you'll squeal if he doesn't and positively become harrowed by its body popping beneath the rear tyre - but it's much safer for a driver to simply ram it into the gravel than to mess around with the safety of himself, other drivers, and - of course - you.

Takes extra care around vehicles with stickers that denote that the occupants of said vehicle - bar the driver or secondary passengers - are animals or children. He will be extra sure to check his mirrors, touch on the brakes if need be, and will actively scan for dangerous drivers that he can shield the car from. His duty is to protect, after all, in whatever capacity.

That being said, in his youth, he was known to drive... a little faster than required. Only on country lanes does he still retain some of his more... reckless habits. He may go a touch too fast around corners, and ignore the chevrons that indicate the severity of a turn (one arrow, two, three), and if the road opens up to a sprawling range, whereby speed control for tight corners and blind junctions is not an issue, he will... perhaps... occasionally - only rarely if you're in the car with him - let her rip.

Begrudgingly drives your shuddering little Fiat 500 or itty bitty Hyundai i20 (hey, what do you mean, tiny, it's perfect for the city, John! Pay no mind if your boys giggle and point when you turn up at the base in it...), though much prefers the Triumph Spitfire, 1979, mint-condition, that he bought in 2008 for three grand and fixed up over a ten-year period (when he wasn't deployed, that was) which is now worth £18,000. That is his profit! But he won't let another soul touch it, drive it, or so much as look at it - unless it's you, on a good day - until the day he dies. It's in stunning condition, but God help you if you reverse into the driveway without him watching like a hawk, wiggling his hand as if it were the paddle of an aeroplane conductor, telling you to move closer to the wall and risk scratching your car just to protect his darling baby. It... oh no... it might be the only thing he loves more than you...

But those roads are his home, that's all!

Always, always, always over-revs the engine to get out of a junction. He can't help it! He's used to manoeuvring through rough terrain with a car the size of a military tank - he's bound to forget to treat a normal car with a normal amount of strength. He comes flying into and out of roundabouts for that exact reason! He has to get on and off them quickly enough - don't you know, they're deathtraps, they are!

Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley:

He's also prone to checking his side mirrors and rear view mirror an inordinate amount of times for a twenty-minute pop to the shop. He is convinced that the Kia Sportage behind him is right up his tail - he's sure it's stalking you in the passenger seat, especially with your bumper stickers on the rear, the nasty perverts - no matter how many times you explain to him that the mirrors are convex! They will make everything seem closer than they truly are! Now, however, he does not and will not ever brake-check a car, but he will sure as hell give them the dirtiest stare if they decide to overtake him... or until they back off a few more feet behind you.

The poor man gets impatient at lights. He does. And crossings, too. Train, tram, pedestrian, any and all of them. Despises them all. He'd rather a set of traffic lights for people to cross at, than have those silly zebra, pelican or toucan markings along the road that he has to pray Grandma Doris won't divert her walking cane in its bilateral direction. Oh, and he bounces his leg like there's no tomorrow. Again, he can't help it! He isn't used to waiting in cars. He's used to tumbling down roads in Middle Eastern deserts as the crow flies. None of those silly turns and re-routes into estates because he took the wrong turn at a junction. He wouldn't have messed up had he had time to think! Had there been no traffic! And, oh, Christ, the traffic. Simon does not like traffic. He does illegal U-turns as soon as he sniffs there being a road closure - that's how much he dislikes waiting!

You'll never forget the day that he wrenched the handbrake up way too high, and you had to get your father to re-tighten it. You're sure there aren't any more notches he can lift it to. You're rarely ever on a hill that warrants it. He'll crank it up six times just to stop at the traffic light before the Tesco. It's bloody Tesco! It's not Mount Kilimanjaro!

Never gets the bite point consistently. Never gets the damn bite point. Always too low or too high. He doesn't over-rev it like Ghost does, but the amount of times he stalls the bloody car, thinking he's in another one of those tank-sized vehicles that has a brand-spanking new bite point - or dare he say, an automatic gearbox that doesn't even require a clutch - is incalculable. You'd think the man has only just learnt to drive!

Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish:

Notoriously speeds through built-up areas. Often commits to doing 45mph in a 30mph zone. Only when there isn't anyone around, like at nighttime! He consistently zooms past speed cameras in his BMW. His poor 3L engine is just too powerful for those dinky little roads. And, promise, he doesn't do it on purpose! He just routinely forgets to glance at his speedometer (and his mirrors, but that's another issue), and he drives for himself and himself only. In fact, he often hums to himself and forgets you're even there, beside him, clutching onto the internal handle on the roof in case he veers too suddenly to either side. His object permanence doesn't prevail unless he has one hand on your inner thigh, and if he doesn't, well, you can kiss safe driving habits goodbye.

(Oh, and he always sits on the brake. And bite + gas. The handbrake is too cumbersome, and his feet are strong enough, Goddamnit!)

Alright, that isn't to say he's an... unsafe driver. He's only slightly inconsiderate. He brakes too harshly, too late, too suddenly, he coasts on the clutch around corners, he never feeds the steering wheel, and he sometimes forgets to check his mirrors before turning into a junction (but he's never T-boned a cyclist... yet... you can give him a tick for that one). But he hums and whistles a nice tune to himself - he prefers it to the radio, and that's not to say he prefers quiet so he can hear the sound of the engine, no, no... never... not at all - and he always makes an overt point to note every field of cows, sheep (especially horses!) as well as every cat he sees lurking along the pavements. Never dogs. Doesn't like the bastards. Got bit once. That was enough to turn him right off.

Sergeant Kyle "Gaz" Garrick:

Beautiful driver. Test-accurate. He could re-take it today and pass with flying colours. What a brilliant driver. The only bad habit he's picked up is driving with one hand (he tends to bite his fingernails on the other when he drives - helps with the stress of commuting in London), and never feeding the steering wheel through his hands. He does the wipe-on, wipe-off manouvre, mostly because he looks hot when doing it, though he tries not to. Mama Garrick always swats his hand whenever he does it because that's how drivers get into accidents, baby!

Car-shares with his mother, whether it's in her duck-egg blue Kia Picanto or his lime green Ford Fiesta - it has failed its MOT three bloody times, and he's revived that girl from death's vice grip more times than he can count, it has the mileage of a postal worker in the 1700s, nearing 200k - but this gentleman always remembers to bring the seat forward and upright after he's finished using it, so that her feet can touch the pedals, and to, naturally, reduce her back pain. He does the same with the headrest, too, because if there's anything he cares about more than his job, it's the safety of his family and friends!

Tends to drive on the cautious side. The only minor fault he'd get in a test would be hesitance because he simply doesn't trust any other driver but himself. His mother drilled that into him. She said that there's nothing worse than watching a car flash its headlights and signal you to go, with caution, as always, because the flash is not universal for 'go', only to pull in front of you and trigger you to emergency brake. Or, God-forbid, a pedestrian puts their hand up at you before they've even crossed the bloody road, and he has to slam on the brakes like he's Speedy Gonzalez at a traffic light. Lordy Lord.

Never mind the fact that he waits too long at pedestrian crossings because there could be somebody shrouded by that tree on the corner there. Do you see it? Over there! No, behind the sign, love! There could be someone - oh, whatever. He has to wait to make sure it's clear - otherwise, Grandma Doris is getting bumped in the legs and thrown fifty feet along the road! And he cares about the elderly!

Always nervously bites the insides of his cheek at roundabouts. Which is the most bewildering part of all, because he's so good at them! He always signals onto the roundabout. Never cuts lanes. Always follows directions perfectly, and if he doesn't, well, I guess you're taking a different route until you can turn around in a safe place. He always signals off the roundabout, too - even at mini-roundabouts - but he'll scrunch his face up every time, huff, and mutter:

"Yeah... botched that one."

...Regardless of how many times you tell him that he's a gorgeous driver! It's sexy, too, how he abides by the Highway code and gives way to more cars than he really should - no, except he really should stop doing that, actually, they're starting to take advantage of his kindness and he doesn't realise it - and how he's so... so... so fucking smooth with gear transitions. Going from stationary to a comfortable 20mph? He'll pop that sucker so fluidly into third (or second, if it's his mum's car) with such prowess that you barely notice the engine take the gas he's giving it. There's no jolt between first and second. He plays those gears like he's bowing a violin. How delicate his fingers are. How gentle his touch. It's mesmerising to watch.

And, you're about ready to give him your hand in marriage when you notice that every time he comes to a stop - on a hill, at a traffic light, in crawl traffic, waiting to turn into a junction, he puts the handbrake on, then takes his foot off the foot brake, then knocks the gearstick into neutral, then takes his foot off the clutch, and waits patiently like the darling man he is. Unlike someone else, he never sits on the brake...

Gaz even brakes in ample time, and you thought he couldn't be more perfect! That's what really gets you going - he gives the car behind him just the right amount of time to slow down that it's almost a waltz, and he's the conductor of traffic. Though... maybe don't let him get trapped at a stalemate on a mini-roundabout where all cars are turning left and are subsequently blocked by the need to give way to the right... his poor brain will short-circuit! If he does, give him a pat on the thigh and let him wait for someone else to make the first move - he hates decision-making when he's off-duty.

Bonus Round - Road Rage!

Captain John Price:

Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley:

Road Rage? You mean, showing a healthy amount of anger and vigour towards a bloody idiot driver? You mean... baring his teeth and swatting a hand at them, occasionally honking the horn past eleven-thirty, even if people are sleeping, or pulling out one of his anger-insurance cigars? That's what road rage is? Well... Christ, he must be terrible for it. Don't tell his boys that... they think he's the most level-headed man on base.

He's slightly oblivious to the technique of cars around him. He drives like he's the only driver in the world, because usually he is - except for those fuckers behind you who won't back off - but if something does happen, and if it isn't too much of an issue, he'll grunt, clench his teeth, grip the steering wheel and let out a muttered 'bastard'. If, however, something really irritates him - especially if another car puts you in danger - he'll honk the horn and flail his hand at the windscreen in the hopes that the driver sees his frustration (even if you're the one driving, he'll reach over and honk the pad for you, even though you've told him not to!)

Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish:

Well... he certainly knows a lot of Gaelic, doesn't he, your boy? You've hardly a monkey's bottom of what he's saying, but the vitriol in which he says it - he's not known for bottling his anger very well - makes it clear to you that he needs a hug and de-tox before bedtime. If the accused does anything on the defensive or antagonistic, he has been known to pull up beside them on a two-lanes-go-straight-on road marking, even if it isn't the right way to your destination, just to glare at them and give them the... stern finger. Maybe... maybe a word or two about precious cargo.

Sergeant Kyle "Gaz" Garrick:

Gaz is a simple guy when he's off-duty. He will sigh, tut, shake his head, and mumble 'nutter', or a very hushed 'oh, you absolute...' (bonus: he never finishes his sentence!) It's what his mum does! If another car puts you in danger, he may groan and roll his eyes - but he always asks if you're okay as soon as, and apologises for the sudden violence of his attitude! What a sweet man.

| Masterlist |

[enginesinc]

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[thecandlesticksfromlesmis]

One evening,

as the setting sun turns the sky dusty,

and the crickets in the fields remind me

that I’m home,

my father tells me he’s reading Les Mis.

I’m half way through feeding the cows

their molasses coated mystery mix,

and the air smells sweet,

and my father reaches out to connect to me.

“I’m reading Les Mis.”

He’s excited to tell me,

and I’m excited to hear.

This story is my mine and my mother’s bond,

and now my father cares to know too.

We talk about the depth of the story.

About the role Javert plays.

Villain or just another man

with his own god to please?

We talk about the words

and how they transcend time,

how they feel so close to our own hearts,

despite Valjean living worlds away

from the Tennessee hills.

The cows are happy and I drive us back,

the John Deere gator engine so loud

that we have to yell to hear each other talk.

And we do.

My father tells me how much he likes

the way Hugo talks about God.

God reveals Himself

in the character’s acts of love:

The bishop to Valjean,

Valjean to Fantine.

In Les Mis, god is the invisible hand

that guides all acts of goodness.

“It feels like real Christianity,” he says (he believes).

“It does,” I reply (I don’t).

“Not the commercial Christianity we have now.”

I drive us past the barn

and the wood pile.

I think about how, to me,

the love in Les Mis feels so Human.

And how, to my father,

the love in Les Mis feels like God

To me, the Divine in Les Mis

is always just humanity and love preserving.

To my father, it’s all just God (and this is enough).

To me, Love is god

To him, God is love.

When we get back to the house,

the stars are coming out in the sky.

We both glance upwards out of habit.

Space is mine and my father’s bond.

And I know in that infinity he sees God,

and I know in that infinity

all I see is Me.

The particles I am made of,

the light that keeps me alive,

the time that gives me the chance to Love.

If given the opportunity,

my father and I would both bow down

and worship the stars,

both with our own gods to please.

My dad’s God is the Father,

and my god is the Love.

My father is reading Les Mis,

and for a rare moment,

we are on the exact same page.

[mrk236547789]

The engine of the old blue pickup truck sputtered to life, the sound echoing through the quiet, dusty street of the small town. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow on the faded brick buildings and the few people that were out, walking their dogs or finishing up last-minute errands. In the driver's seat, Larry, a burly man with a thick beard and a faded John Deere cap, gave a weary sigh. The day had been long, and the air conditioning in his truck had given out a week ago, leaving him to sweat through his workday. His large belly pressed against the steering wheel, making it difficult to maneuver comfortably.

“I got to lay off the beer and pizza," Larry murmured to himself, patting his substantial belly. But as he pulled out of the gas station and onto the open road, the gentle vibrations from the engine sent a peculiar sensation through his midsection. It was as if his stomach was... moving. He glanced down, but all he saw was his usual bulging waistline. Shrugging it off as indigestion, he turned up the radio and set his sights on the horizon.

The road stretched out before him like a ribbon of black tar, leading to the distant, flickering lights of his hometown. The music grew louder, and so did the strange movements in his stomach. Larry's eyes widened as he felt a gush of something warm and wet spread across his lap.

“I did not just piss myself," Larry exclaimed, disbelief and embarrassment fighting for control of his expression. He pulled over to the side of the road, the truck's engine idling. The smell of gasoline and burnt rubber mingled with the new scent of something distinctly biological. He unbuckled his seatbelt went to the sleeping area behind the driver's seat, and pulled out a flashlight.

Larry looked in the mirror and saw a wet spot spreading on his pants. He went and got back it he driver seat not thinking much about it.

Soon Larry felt a painful pressure building in his lower abdomen. It grew more intense with each passing minute, making him squirm in his seat. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white as he tried to ignore the discomfort and focus on the road ahead. The headlights of his truck pierced the gathering darkness, casting a narrow beam of light that did little to alleviate the unease building inside him.

Soon the pain turned into a burning sensation, and Larry could no longer ignore it. He pulled over to the side of the road, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. Larry went back to the mirror and saw his newly was lower than it had been. He knew something was seriously wrong. The wet spot had grown and was now spreading down his legs.

He saw a bulge forming in his jeans and the burning sensation get worse and painful. Larry swore under his breath and clenched his teeth, trying to keep the pain at bay. He unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down, and was met with the shock of his life.A head was crowning out of his stomach, the tiny features squished and covered in a slick, shiny film. It was a baby's head, with a mop of black hair plastered to its scalp.

"Oh my god!" Larry shouted, his voice hoarse with shock. His instincts told me him to push “FUCKKKKKKkkk ooooooofff!" The head emerged further, the pain unlike anything he had ever experienced. The baby's eyes were closed tightly, and it looked like it was ready to enter the world. Larry's heart raced as he stared down at the impossible sight, his mind racing with questions and fear.

The baby slipped out.

But before he could call 911 a second head started to pop out, and Larry realized in horror that he was not just delivering one baby, but two. Panic set in as he looked around his truck for anything that could help him. His eyes fell on an old towel in the backseat, and he grabbed it, ready to catch the twins that were about to be born from his own body.

The second baby's head emerged, a mirror image of the first but with a shock of blond hair. The twins were as different as night and day, and the sight of them sent Larry's brain into overdrive. He didn't know the first thing about delivering babies, let alone two at once. But as the first one began to wail, a primal instinct took over, and he knew he had to act fast.

With trembling hands, Larry managed to catch the second baby as it slipped out, the towel barely large enough to cover them both. The twins, a boy and a girl, lay in his lap, crying and squirming. Their cries pierced the quiet night, and Larry felt a strange mix of terror and awe. He had never felt anything so soft and fragile in his rough, calloused hands.

[jermer10]

hi! im unsure if your asks are open or not, but can i request headcanon drabbles for mercs (specifically spy, sniper, medic, soldier, engineer) with an s/o who grew up like deep south? like, sometimes their southern accent slips out when they get angry and they grew up hunting and fishing and they say crazy southern things like 'sweating worse than a whore in church'.

love your work! keep it up <3

TF2 mercs with a southern s/o

gn reader | tysm for the req anon!! <3

includes: soldier, engineer, medic, sniper, spy

drabbles under the cut :P

Soldier: - a match made in heaven - he probably met you out hunting, “whatcha’ lookin’ for darlin’?” “COMMIE SCUM” - you had to explain to him that “commie scum” wasn’t tangible nor legal to kill - “NOT IF NO ONE FINDS THE BODIES!” you cant help but burst out laughing at his naivety, Soldier grinning alongside you - he honestly doesn’t get why you’re laughing, but he doesn’t care, your laugh was so addictive - after that you were seldom seen without one another - you’re into all the same hobbies and you have the same temper, the other mercs call you John Doe (soldier likes to pretend that this annoys him but the idea of sharing a last name with you excites him more)

Engineer: - engie met you whilst going back down south for business purposes, you hit it off immediately! - he absolutely adores every inch of you, and finds your common interests a good relaxant when he needs a break from work (which you often have to force him to do) - the other mercs refer to you both as the parents of the team, as much as it makes you both cringe it unfortunately flusters you both to no end - your accent becomes stronger the deeper in conversation you both are - this leads to some very confused mercs, hilarious antics ensue - this also leads to incredibly unfunny alabama jokes whether you're from Alabama or not (courtesy of scout) - you are an inseparable duo, doing mostly everything together!

Medic: - despite what you might believe, medic adores your boisterous personality! - you don't have many common interests, but he will occasionally join you on a hunting trip (especially if you are willing to hunt humans for him to perform medical malpractice on) - he loves your little sayings, finding them absurd and hilarious - "pretty as zhe peach you say?" he muses, a cocky grin plastered on his face - you're both stubborn, so naturally you butt heads over stupid things - but as soon as that accent comes out full force medic sits his german ass down and listens - all in all a power couple if you entertain his more eccentric qualities

Sniper: - this is an 'enemies to lovers' type of deal except the enemy part is one sided - he finds you very offputting at first, chalking you up to being just another loud annoyance and ignoring your attempts to bond - then you take him hunting and his whole world changes - he's never seen someone so precise with a gun other than himself, seeing you hit that deer right between the eyes was like watching fireworks in slow motion - and all at once he fell for you, coming to the not so shocking realization that he might actually not hate you as much as he thought - he still finds you loud and annoying but now he is highly attracted to you and is not as good at hiding it as he thinks - insane introvert x insane extrovert trope my beloved

Spy: - okay his is ACTUALLY an enemies to lovers and HEAVVYY on the lovers part - you do not like eachother and you both make that very clear. - spy considers himself sophisticated and above the sorts of animalistic hobbies you take interest in, you are a 'for the people' kind of person and find the high class world to be inherently exploitative - so you can see where the conflict is coming from then? well good because it all comes crashing down after you get into a screaming match and the deep southern drawl comes out - suddenly his lips are on yours and your hands are gripping the front of his blazer in any attempt to bring him closer - neither of you are open about this relationship you share - everyone knows.

[maxiforcefl]

Boreable Vs. Honeable Connecting Rod (Piston Pin) Bushings

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[ragingbookdragon]

A Buck's As Good As Any

Simon "Ghost" Riley x John "Soap" MacTavish x Reader

Word Count: 1.5K Warnings: Explicit Language, Mentions of blood and cleaning

Author's Note: @lazybutsmexy Sara inspired the OT3 and now we're all gonna fall into this hole together. :) -Thorne

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

It had bothered him for days, and Ghost knew it by the time he finally came to him and brought it up.

A mid-Wednesday afternoon, drizzling and dreary in Manchester like usual, Ghost was content to spend the entire day wrapped in the gray sheets and heavy comforter of their bed, resting up on all the sleep he never got whenever they were working. Soap had left the bed earlier a few hours ago to go shopping, only returning minutes after. He heard the footsteps coming the way to the bedroom.

“Do you think she left us and went back to the US because she was uncomfortable?”

Ghost cracked an eye open, staring at Soap who stood in the entrance. “Why?”

“Because she didn’t say ‘See you soon’ or anything. She just left. Didn’t wake us up.” He frowned. “She would’ve told us if she was uncomfortable being with us, wouldn’t she? I mean I know she said she wasn’t, but what if she was? What if maybe she felt like she was intruding on us? What if we didn’t—”

“You’re thinking too hard about it, Johnny,” Ghost muttered, shutting his eyes. “Relax. We’ll catch a flight Friday to the mountains to see her and ask her ourselves.”

“We are?” he asked.

“We’re gonna if it’s going to keep you from wanking all the time.”

“I am not wanking.”

“Wanking, whining, same thing.”

“You’re such an ass.”

***

“Is this…really where she lives when she’s not working?” Soap asked, staring at the small, cozy wood cabin.

Ghost nodded. “That’s what Price said. This is the address and from what the neighbors said, this is it.” He walked up the steps. “Her Dodge is here…maybe she’s home.” He knocked on the door, waiting for someone to answer, but after a few moments no one did and he knocked again. “She’s not home.”

“Where do you think she is?”

He shrugged. “Call her.”

Soap took out his phone, dialing her number; he stared at Ghost as it rang, impatiently tapping his foot until the line clicked. “Hello? Dame? Are you there?” He glanced at Ghost as a tapping echoed across the line. “Dame? She’s not answering.”

Ghost took the phone and put it on speaker. “Dame, single click yes, double no. Are you near your cabin.

Click.

“Are you injured?”

Click-click.

“Are you okay?”

Click.

“What are you doing?” Soap asked and Ghost glared at him.

“She’s obviously doing something where she can’t talk.”

Click.

“What the hell’s there to do here? We’re in the middle of nowhere?”

“We’re in the middle of a giant fucking forest, Johnny. What do you possibly think she could be doing if she wasn’t in town or in her house?”

Soap blinked. “Is she hunting maybe? Didn’t she mention a season or something on the last mission.”

Click.

“How long will you be, Dame? Less than an hour?”

Click.

Ghost nodded. “Are you almost done?” They awaited another click, yet it never came. “Dame? Are you—”

A crack echoed across the land and the two turned in the direction of the noise, watching a flock of birds escape the tops of the trees in the distance.

Her voice came over the line. “I’ll be back to the cabin in about ten minutes. Key’s underneath the third stepping stone in the rock garden.”

The line went dead and the two looked at one another before shrugging and finding the key.

***

They stood on the porch and waited for her to return, squinting into the distance as an ATV drove up the driveway and she pulled up, turning the engine off. “What are you boys up to over this side of the ocean?” she asked, slinging the rifle off her back to lay at the side of the four-wheeler. “Sorry I didn’t talk. This guy walked right in front of me when you called. I couldn’t risk him getting away.”

Ghost and Soap walked over, seeing the deer laying across the back of the ATV, a gunshot through its chest. They watched as she picked the buck up with a grunt and started carrying it to the shed behind the cabin; they followed.

“We were coming to talk,” Soap said, curiosity in his eyes as she opened the shed door with one hand, holding the deer’s feet with the other before dropping it inside. “Isn’t that heavy?”

“About one-fifty,” she said, shoving the metal hook through the deer’s back legs before she pulled away and hauled it up in the air. “So why did y’all come? Y’know I was gonna be back in a few weeks, right?”

“What?” his voice was pitched in confusion as she slid a bucket under the carcass.

“It’s hunting season here,” she muttered, wielding the cleaning knife with expert precision. “Step back, or you’ll get guts and blood on you.” Neither moved as she dug the knife into the deer’s chest, cutting cleanly all the way to its belly. “I tend to fly home during the seasons so I can shoot some game to have meat when I get back.”

They watched as she cleaned with skill, seemingly unbothered by the steam rising around them. The scent of blood was thick in the air and Soap had to step back outside to breath a little; Ghost remained. “What are y’all here to talk about?” Dame asked. “Can’t imagine it’s something unimportant since y’all flew halfway across the world.”

Before Soap could even say anything, Ghost deadpanned, “Johnny was afraid you were uncomfortable being in a relationship with both of us. That you were intruding. So, here we are.”

“Ghost!” Soap griped and she laughed.

“Oh no, I’m not uncomfortable boys,” she said. “Like I said, it’s hunting season. I had to get back to get a good buck before season ended. Can’t shoot bucks out of season or I’ll get fined and lose my license.”

“What’s a buck?”

“Male deer. Doe is a female,” she explained, pulling the deer by the leg to its antlers. “He’s about a thirteen pointer.” A grin pulled her lips. “Oh man, I can’t wait for Jackson to see this. He’s gonna shit a brick.”

“Who’s Jackson?” Soap asked, crossing his arms over his chest and she snickered.

“Easy there, boy, he’s an old friend of mine. And I say old because he’s seventy-five.”

“Oh…”

Ghost glared at him. “Will you quit being jealous? She’s not seeing anyone but us.”

“Don’t be so hard on him, Simon. He can’t help it.” She smiled at them. “This is going to take me an hour or so. Y’all go inside and get comfortable. It’s cold out here.”

Ghost didn’t have to be told twice, marching back up the way they’d come to go inside, yet Soap remained and she looked back at him.

“What’s wrong, darlin’?” she questioned, wiping her hands on the apron. “You’ve got thinking eyes on.”

Soap shifted his weight between his feet. “Are…are you sure you’re not uncomfortable with this?”

Dame sighed and set the knife down. “John, at first…I was. I didn’t feel like it was a good idea to come between, no, join you and Simon. It did feel like I was intruding in a relationship. But,” she said calmly, gazing at him with a softness. “I know that you feel the same about me that you feel about Simon. It’s how I feel about both of you and how he feels about us.” She made sure her hand was dry, even if it was covered in blood, and held it out for him to take; he did so. “I didn’t leave because I was uncomfortable. I left to come home and get things organized for next season.”

Soap frowned. “You only left a note. You didn’t wake us up.”

“I know,” she murmured. “And that’s on me. My flight left early, and I didn’t want to disturb you both. We three barely get enough sleep as it is.” She squeezed his hand. “Next time, I’ll wake you both up. I promise.”

“Next time,” he griped. “We’re coming with you.”

She laughed. “Alright, boy, if that’s how you feel about it.” Pulling away, she grabbed the knife again. “Now go inside, would you? I’ll be back in when I’m done.”

“Can Ghost and I go into town?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because without me, you’re gonna get in a bar fight with some good ole boys and I do not want to explain to Sheriff Doherty why my boyfriends beat the shit outta the entire bar.” When he said nothing, she turned, seeing him wearing a dopey smile. “What.”

“You called us your boyfriends.”

“Go inside or I’ll clean you with this knife next,” she threatened, waving the knife at him and he raised his hands in surrender.

“Fine, fine, lass, I’m goin’.”

As he turned, she called out, “John?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you and Ghost came to see me.” She smiled at him. “I missed you both.”

He smiled back at her. “We missed you.”