#windshield installation

[rv-there-yet]

March 26 2025 - clean up is the most time consuming part of this process. Takes forever, but is needed if you don't want to make a mess during....

Step 8 - remove the protective tape:

and reveal a beautiful seam:

that now needs to cure for the better part of a week.

Patience!

[glassinc]

Windshield Installation by Glass Inc.

Your windshield is more than just a sheet of glass—it's a critical safety feature that protects you from debris, supports your vehicle’s structure, and ensures proper airbag deployment in the event of a collision. That’s why when it comes to windshield installation, you shouldn’t settle for anything less than expert service.

At Glass Inc., we’ve been serving Atlanta, GA and surrounding areas for over 68 years, offering professional, high-quality windshield installation that drivers can trust.

🚗 Why Windshield Installation Matters

A cracked or improperly installed windshield isn’t just an eyesore—it’s a hazard. A poor installation job can lead to:

Water leaks and fogging

Wind noise and decreased visibility

Compromised structural integrity during a crash

Improper airbag function

That’s why our certified technicians use industry-leading tools and adhesives to ensure your windshield is installed with precision and care.

🛠️ What to Expect from Our Windshield Installation

When you choose Glass Inc., you're choosing quality from start to finish. Our process includes:

Damage Assessment & Safe Removal

We begin by inspecting your vehicle and carefully removing the old windshield to prevent damage to your car’s frame and interior.

Clean Surface Preparation

Our team preps the bonding area by removing debris and old adhesives, ensuring the new windshield will seal properly.

High-Quality Glass Installation

We use only premium-grade, American-made glass and urethane adhesives for a secure, long-lasting fit.

Cure Time & Final Inspection

After installation, we allow time for the adhesive to cure and perform a final quality check to make sure everything is road-ready.

🏠 We Come to You – Mobile Installation Available!

Can’t come to us? No problem. Glass Inc. offers mobile windshield installation throughout metro Atlanta, including Alpharetta, Marietta, Sandy Springs, Roswell, Suwanee, and beyond. Whether you're at home, at work, or stranded on the side of the road, we bring expert service to your location.

✅ Why Choose Glass Inc.?

68+ years of trusted experience

Locally manufactured, American-made materials

Certified and skilled technicians

Fast turnaround with unmatched attention to detail

Competitive pricing with no surprises

We’re not just installing windshields—we’re keeping Atlanta safe, one vehicle at a time.

💬 Final Thoughts

If your windshield is cracked, chipped, or shattered, don’t wait. Driving with damaged glass compromises your safety and visibility. Let the pros at Glass Inc. take care of it with the speed, skill, and precision you deserve.

🔗 Visit GlassInc.net to book your windshield installation or get a free estimate today. 📞 We’re here to keep you clear and confident on the road.

#WindshieldInstallation #AutoGlass #AtlantaGA #GlassInc #WindshieldRepair #MobileGlassService #AutoSafety #CarCare

[tpglassworks12]

why airbags are necessary for the car | TP Glassworks

Airbags are a crucial safety feature in cars, and for good reason! In the event of a collision, they can help reduce the risk of serious injury or even save lives.

When a collision occurs, airbags inflate rapidly to cushion the impact and protect passengers from hitting hard surfaces like the steering wheel or dashboard. They can also help prevent passengers from being ejected from the vehicle.

Without airbags, the risk of injury or death in a collision increases significantly. That's why it's important to ensure that your car's airbags are functioning properly and have not been tampered with.

Remember, safety should always come first when it comes to driving. So buckle up, drive defensively, and make sure your airbags are ready to protect you in case of an accident. 

Read More: https://www.gettoplists.com/why-airbags-are-necessary-for-the-car-tp-glassworks/

[wandering-einheri]

I need to buy a welding machine so I can make a custom bumper, light bar, external roll cage, and roof rack for my mustang after I lift it

[elevationauto77]

Auto Mirror Replacements in Colorado Springs CO

Elevation Auto Glass LLC provides expert Auto Mirror Replacements in Colorado Springs CO, ensuring your vehicle stays safe and secure. Specializing in mobile windshield replacement, auto mirror replacements, and auto window repair, we deliver fast and reliable solutions. For all your auto glass repair needs, trust our professional team to keep your vehicle in top shape!

[rvautoglassexperts-phoenix-az]

The Ultimate Checklist for Choosing an RV Auto Glass Repair Professional

When it comes to replacing your RV's windshield, it's crucial to choose a reputable auto glass company to handle the job. While it might be tempting to base your decision solely on price, there are several important factors to consider to ensure you get the best quality service and materials. Here's a list of tips to help you select the right auto glass repair company for your RV.

High-Quality Materials

One of the first considerations when choosing rv auto glass repair Phoenix professional is the quality of the materials they use. Your RV's windshield is not just a piece of glass; it's a critical component that protects you from the elements and any debris that might be kicked up on the road. Given the size and complexity of RV windshields, it's imperative that the company you choose uses glass specifically designed and manufactured for your RV's make and model.

Advanced Installation Processes

Replacing an RV windshield requires specialized skills and tools due to the size and shape of the glass. Ensure the company you choose has the necessary equipment and expertise to install and seal your new windshield efficiently and correctly. Ask about their installation techniques and make sure they follow industry standards to prevent issues like leaks or improper sealing.

Effective Communication

A reliable RV windshield replacement company should be responsive and attentive to your needs. Look for companies that offer convenient ways to request quotes and schedule appointments, such as online forms. Additionally, ensure they have customer service hours that fit your schedule. It's also a good idea to reach out to several companies to compare how they treat you during the initial inquiry. Good customer service is often an indicator of how well they'll handle your RV's windshield replacement.

By considering these factors, you can make an informed decision and ensure that your RV's windshield replacement is handled with the care and expertise it deserves.

[crystalclearautoglassrepair]

Trusted Auto Window Repair in Greater Los Angeles/Long Beach

For expert "auto window repair" services in the Greater Los Angeles/Long Beach areas, Crystal Clear Car Glass Repair is a trusted option. Our skilled technicians are professionals in restoring the clarity and security of your car's windows, whether it's a minor chip or a complete replacement. We have repaired thousands of vehicles throughout the course of our 10 years of experience, representing several years, manufacturers, and models.

[rv-there-yet]

Step 7 - remove any excess squeeze out and ensure a nice finished seam, both inside and outside.

[tpglassworks12]

Windshield Replacement in Mesa, AZ: Turning Point Glassworks

Excited to share my recent experience with Turning Point Glassworks for windshield replacement in Mesa, AZ! 🚗💨 Their exceptional service truly impressed me. From start to finish, they exceeded my expectations. 👏

Firstly, their team was incredibly knowledgeable and professional. They took the time to explain the process, answering all my questions with patience and expertise. Their attention to detail reassured me that my car was in good hands. 🚘✨

The convenience factor was also a standout. Turning Point Glassworks offers mobile services, which means they came to my location in Mesa. This saved me valuable time and hassle. Plus, they arrived promptly, ready to get to work. ⏰🛠️

The quality of their workmanship was top-notch. The replacement windshield they installed was of excellent quality, and it fit perfectly. The installation was swift and efficient, without compromising on precision. The finished result was flawless. 😍🔧

Another aspect that impressed me was their commitment to customer satisfaction. They went above and beyond to ensure I was completely happy with their service. Their friendly demeanor and genuine concern for my experience made me feel valued as a customer. 👍😊

To top it off, Turning Point Glassworks provided competitive pricing, delivering great value for the quality of service they offered. They also worked seamlessly with my insurance company, simplifying the payment process. 💰💯

If you're in Mesa, AZ, and in need of windshield replacement, I highly recommend Turning Point Glassworks. Their expertise, convenience, and dedication to customer satisfaction set them apart. Thank you, Turning Point Glassworks, for a job well done!

Original Source: https://blogstudiio.com/windshield-replacement-in-mesa-az-turning-point-glassworks/

[autoglass-abudhabi]

Unbreakable Defence: Exploring the Versatility and Safety Features of Laminated Front Windshields

When prioritizing the safety of both drivers and passengers, laminated front windshields emerge as an impregnable safeguard. Unlike traditional classic car windshield installation Abudhabi, laminated windshields are uniquely designed with a layer of polyvinyl butyral (PVB) sandwiched between two layers of glass. This construction imparts a multitude of advantages, rendering laminated front windshields a vital component in modern vehicles.

The foremost benefit of laminated front windshields lies in their exceptional strength and durability. Unlike regular glass that may shatter upon impact, laminated glass tends to remain intact even when subjected to high-force collisions, such as rocks or debris from other vehicles. While the glass may crack, its structural integrity is maintained, minimizing the risk of injuries during accidents by preventing shards from flying into the cabin.

Another advantage of laminated front windshields is their ability to mitigate the effects of harmful ultraviolet (UV) rays. The PVB interlayer acts as a UV filter, shielding the vehicle’s occupants from potential skin damage and preventing fading and deterioration of the interior upholstery and dashboard caused by prolonged sunlight exposure.

Furthermore, laminated front windshields exhibit excellent sound insulation properties. The PVB layer acts as a sound dampener, reducing external noise from entering the cabin. This creates a quieter and more comfortable driving experience, allowing occupants to enjoy conversations and music without being disturbed by excessive road noise.

Lastly, laminated front windshields offer superior optical clarity compared to some aftermarket tinted or coated windshields. They ensure excellent visibility, providing a clear view of the road ahead, which is crucial for safe driving in various weather conditions.

In conclusion, laminated front windshields Abudhabi serve as an unbreakable defense, offering numerous benefits. They play an indispensable role in ensuring the safety and well-being of drivers and passengers, combining versatility with unmatched safety features in modern vehicle design.

[caliglassntint01]

Enhance Your Vehicle's Appeal and Protection with Cali Glass N Tint: Windshield Replacement and Window Tint Installation in San Diego

Welcome to our blog! In this post, we will highlight the exceptional services offered by Cali Glass N Tint, a leading windshield replacement and window tint installation provider in San Diego.

Visit here : https://www.4shared.com/s/fh8lswoGFfa

[joshslater]

Stained

Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

They say when you are in an accident everything moves in slow motion. That wasn't at all how it felt for me. I was driving down a slight slope toward an intersection out in bumfuckyall, where a truck was waiting at a red light. Why they would put a traffic light out here with nothing but crop fields around is beyond me. Getting some extra revenue from people running the lights perhaps. Not busy enough to warrant the installation though. Maybe to stop traffic when harvesters or whatever pass by, but they would move slowly and be pretty darn visible in this terrain.

The belt tensioner yanked me into the seat at the same time as I heard the crash and I had just time to turn my head back from the fields to see the now milky front window, shattered into thousands of small glass cubes suspended by the plastic film on the back of it, give way to the mass that had been thrown off the flatbed and flung into my windshield. Through the widening gap at the top of the windshield liquid was dumped into the car, all over me, and everything turned into black silence with a strong smell of chemicals.

It all went faster than I could register, and I just sat there still with burning eyes, trying to comprehend what had just happened. I somehow had run into the truck. I heard hurried steps outside and someone first trying to open the door then rapping the side window and shouting "Are you hurt, buddy?"

Was I? My shoulder hurt from the seat belt, and I couldn't see anything, but otherwise I wouldn't feel anything damaged. I fumbled a bit to find how to open the door and once successful responded "I'm OK I think. I can't see though."

"Thank Lord. It's wood stain. Had some buckets in the back. Some paint too. It'll make you dizzy and sick, but I wouldn't worry about going blind. Let me help you out and lay you down. I have plenty of water to rinse you."

Despite squeezing my eyes as shut as I could, reasoning that opening them would probably let more paint in than out, I had no problems finding and removing the seat belt, and stepping out of the car. As soon as I was out of the car he grabbed my arm and led me to a spot in front of both vehicles. My mouth tasted of chemicals and I spat on the ground several times.

"Just lie down here, buddy. Are you sure you aren't hurt?" "A bit sore, but nothing really hurts." "That's a relief. The car is probably a write-off with all the damage outside and in. This is all my fault." Without opening my eyes I let myself be guided to the ground while he talked. I could hear the steps of another person getting closer from beyond my car. "It is?" "Casy, get the big jug!" he told the other person, who answered a curt "Yep" in a young man's voice. "I must have put in reverse while waiting for the light and then... reverse into you," he said, talking to me again. "It's a rental. I'm sure they are used to handling things like this." "Just stay still there buddy, and I'll start pouring."

He began pouring water on my face, occasionally wiping with a rag of some sort. "Open your mouth and take some water. Then swig it around and spit it out." We did that a few times. A few more rinses and I dared to open my eyes. He looked like he sounded like. Trucker cap, beard, grey and blue flannel shirt, blue jeans, and boots. Hovering behind him was a boy in his late teens or early twenties, dressed very similarly in camo cap, blue JROTC hoodie, jeans, and boots. For my part I was wood-stain brown and garden-fence white.

"I'm Cliff, this is Casy," Cliff said and gave me his hand to help me up. As I stood up and looked past his pick up I could see my car. It looked worse than I would have expected. While the collision didn't feel that bad, the crumple zones certainly felt it. A few buckets of paint had landed next to it, but clearly the inside was ruined by the ones that had passed through the glass. I had no hope that my travel bag with what little extra clothes I had brought with me had survived either, as I think I had tossed it on the passenger seat. 

"I'm Bradly" "Casy, give Bradly your pop. He can't taste nothing but paint." Casy did a nod and another dull "yep", but jumped into the truck with ease and was quickly out again with a can of Monster. Ignoring that it was opened and with a third gone, I took an eager sip, swirled it in my mouth, and swallowed. When I had emptied the can the taste of oil and paint was almost gone.

"I reckon we need to hose you down before we can do anything else. Casy can stay here while we bring you to the house to clean you up. Then we can figure out how to take care of the car. How's that sound, buddy?"

"Sounds reasonable to me." "I'm sorry, but do you mind getting on the flatbed." He motioned all over my paint-drenched body. "No. Is it far?" "It's a quick drive."

When you are lying on your back on a tarp next to reclaimed wood, slowly drying into the color of an antique table, seeing nothing but the afternoon sky, nothing is a quick drive. I didn't dare move, not so much because I was lying unprotected in the back of a truck that was driving far too fast for my comfort, but because I was soaked in oil and paint and water, and didn't want to mess anything else up. The wind running over my body was chilling, despite the balmy weather. My shoulder and chest hurt from where the belt tightener pulled me back into the seat. Despite the wind there was a strong smell of paint. I felt lightheaded. My mind began to wander. I should probably call the motel that I would be late, or not arriving at all. I was thinking about how I decided to not have a coffee at the diner to get back on the road quicker. I should have bought one. The apple pie slices looked delicious. Eventually however I would see treetops creeping into view and soon after we came to a stop on gravel.

"Where is he?" a woman asked nearby. "Back there," Cliff answered and opened the tailgate. He extended a hand to help me down. "Hey buddy, this is Sarah!" "Hi," Sarah said smiling. "Bradly"

Instead of walking towards the house she motioned toward one of the barns. "Hose is over there. Then you can take a proper shower after." On Sarah's urging I took off everything but my briefs. She suggested I take them off as well, but didn't press the issue. The water was pretty high-pressure and ice cold. Cold water worked better than hot water Sarah claimed, not that hot water was an option outside the house.

Once I was hosed enough that the water didn't run brown anymore, and I felt I was near risking hypothermia, I wrapped myself in an old discolored beach blanket Sarah handed me and we walked back to the house. I shivered and my lightheadedness had turned into a dull, thumping headache. Cliff and the truck were gone. Sarah grabbed one of the white plastic chairs, placed it near the front door, and told me to sit down. "The white paint doesn't stick too bad to the skin, but we're never going to be able to clean this out," she said and touched my hair. I hadn't felt a feeling like that since I used way too much hair gel for Halloween many years ago. It was like my hair and the paint had formed a helmet. She quickly returned from the house with a trimmer on an extension cord. "Sides are not too bad. I can make a flat top," she said and buzzed away, clearly used to taking care of Cliff and Casy. I cringed when I heard it, and was about to stop her, but changed my mind. Better to let her keep as much hair as possible and decide on the real emergency haircut later.

She then led me through the house and what must have been Casy's room, with a home gym and a gaming setup, to his bathroom. Everything was big and roomy, but I guess it is inexpensive to build large when you have lots of land, time, and resources. "Take as much time as you need and use any of the soaps you want. I'll put some clothes on the bed for you. Just throw your briefs in the bathroom bin," Sarah said and left.

I looked in the bathroom mirror, the first time I saw myself after the accident. I looked terrible. The haircut was ugly, of course, but the uneven stain stains all over my body made me look tan and dirty. Like I had spent all day riding a dirt bike in mud, not the last ten minutes being blasted by ice water. I looked as beaten and spent as I felt.

By "any of the soaps" she meant the Axe Total Fresh 3-in-1 shampoo, conditioner, and body wash that there were four opened bottles of in various places in the bathroom. Somehow Casy managed to both have a messy bathroom without having much in it. The water felt like a blessing on my cold, bruised body. I just stood there for a while, letting the warm water rinse me. Then I lathered myself completely and rinsed off three times in a row. Neither the foam nor the water looked discolored, and when I dried myself with the one towel in the room it didn't become stained. The image in the mirror however looked disappointingly identical to before. The same stained me, but now with a more acute headache. Everything smelled like Axe Total Fresh, and it did my head no favors.

I peeked into Casy's room. No one was there and the door to the rest of the house was shut, so I entered and looked at the clothes laid out for me on the bed. Only one of each, so no options. First black compression boxers with a wide Nike band. Then a pair of green-brown socks that looked like what the army issues. Some lightly distressed blue jeans with a black leather belt. A military green Under Armour T-shirt in a glossy material with "patriotic" print with stars and almost-US flags on it. A hunting camo baseball cap. Finally a pair of well-worn leather boots. I put it all on, including the hat to cover the ugly hair and the boots because I wasn't sure what the indoor etiquette here was. Everything fit surprisingly well, though I guess she could have looked at the size of my ruined clothes.

I opened the door and stepped out of the room, trying to find Sarah, or anyone really. How long had I been in the shower? Probably an hour, if not longer. "Hello?" "We're over here," I heard Sarah shout from across the house. I walked in the direction of her voice and was soon joined by Cliff who emerged from another room. "How are you feeling, buddy?" he asked in a concerned fatherly manner. "I think I'm about to have an episode of migraine." "That something you've had before." "Never."

"Take your seats. You over here Brad," Sarah said as we turned the corner into a large kitchen with a table laid for four. "Bud... eh, Bradly." I tried to correct her, but she had turned to the big cast iron pot on the stove. Casy already sat by the table with a phone in his hand, but his eyes were firmly on me. His face didn't reveal any expressions.

Sarah placed the heavy pot on the table and with a big ladle filled my plate with a dark stew. "Here you go, Bud," she said. As the smell of beef stock, fresh herbs, carrots, onions, and slow cooked, rich meat reached my nose I immediately recognized the telltales. Weakening of the jaw. The increase in saliva. I almost threw myself out of the chair, rushed over to the sink, and managed just in time to throw up into the sink. I realized I was sweating. Then another heave of vomit. "Oh, poor buddy," Sarah said and patted my back.  "Here, drink this," she said and filled a glass of water from a pitcher. My body heaved a third time, but nothing came out. "Thanks," I replied and took the glass with some apprehension, waiting to see if my body would do something else. Once it appeared safe I took the glass and started to empty it.

"Casy, make one of them shakes for him. He needs to get something in his belly." Almost reluctantly, like I had ruined his meal, Casy got up and moved towards a cupboard. "I just need to rest I think," I said, my head now mercilessly pounding in pain. "Out of the question. You need something to fortify you."

Casy quickly scooped powder from a large plastic container into a workout shaker bottle thing, poured in some water, gave it a quick shake, and handed it to me. I had barely put it to my mouth when Cliff said "He can barely stand. Take him to your room for a nap." "Come then," Casy said and led the way out of the kitchen, with me following sipping the chalky mixture. "You know the way though," he said once out of earshot from the kitchen. Back inside his room he motioned at the bed and said "This is a bed," deadpan to me. I wanted to say it wasn't my fault his day was ruined. In fact, mine had gone way worse than his, but my head hurt too much for me to care. "Thanks." I put my back on the bed and was out in seconds.

The hard plastic of the ear protectors was what made me wake up properly, and it took a moment to realize what it was and get them off. Almost ripped the cap off with them. These were the radio/bluetooth kind that allowed you to listen to music while you worked. Bright, orange colored cups with the rest of it black. I got up from the bed and left them on the sheets. Apparently I was already fully dressed, so I headed to the kitchen. Sarah was there preparing things.

"Mornin' Ma'am." "Good morning, Buddy." I took my seat. Sarah filled a bowl with porridge, drizzled honey over it, set it on the table in front of me together with a spoon. "Better hurry. Cliff is waiting for you." "Yes, Ma'am."

It wasn't until I began eating I realized how hungry I was, so it wasn't a problem to be quick. Not having seconds though felt rough. Just outside the house was Cliff, doing something with a quad to which he had hooked a trailer full of wooden poles. "Mornin', Sir" "Morning Buddy! Get up in the trailer and make sure nothing shakes out while we drive down the fields. "Yes, Sir."

Once we came to a stop after a bumpy ride, Cliff showed me how to operate the earth drill to make holes, then how to insert a pole, and with the sledge hammer drive it down so it fit securely. He then let me do that while he was working on putting up wires for the electric fence. After we had been at it for quite a while Sarah called on the walkie-talkie and said sheriff Miller wanted to talk to us. We unhooked the trailer and drove up to the farm on the quad, me sitting behind Cliff, straddling him.

Outside the main house Sarah and the sheriff waited for us. It was mostly a boring conversation between Cliff and the sheriff that I tuned out of, but then the sheriff turned to me and asked "And who is this?" "It's Buddy, farmhand for the summer," Cliff answered and took a slight step to the side to give room for the sheriff. The sheriff looked me over for a second. "You were here yesterday?" "Yes, Sir." "Did you see anyone come by yesterday afternoon or evening?" "No, Sir." "Anything else out of the ordinary happened yesterday?" "Yes, Sir. I threw up, Sir. Hasn't happened in years, Sir." "Hahaha." He turned to Cliff again. "If anything comes up let me know. It's not the first traveler that's gotten lost around here, but they usually turn up sooner or later." "They have a habit of doing that, causing extra work for the local sheriff while they are wandering about," Cliff answered, smiling back. The sheriff shook his head and opened his car door. "You ain't wrong."

Once the car was well on its way up the dirt road Sarah motioned at cooler that was on the ground. "I was about to come down with lunch to you boys, but perhaps you want to eat it up here." "Yeah, let's take a breather. This was a close call." Cliff opened a small tool bag that was hanging on the quad and pulled out another pair of orange ear protectors, if not the same as earlier. He turned the knob on them and put them on my head. Noise was sloshing around in my ears like waves breaking on a beach. Voices were whispering all around me. It was impossible to focus on a single voice and hear its message. Just a school of slippery tadpoles swimming around and around. Impossible to grab. Somewhere far in the distance I could hear Cliff talking.

"Let's go even harder with the programming. We don't need him cognisant for the rest of the day."

[erodasfishtacos]

Let's Be Alone Together - Trucker!H Prt II

prompt: harry doesnt understand why he asked her to travel with him, why he cares, or why he seems so drawn to a girl who cant stop apologizing and is too kind for her own good.

word count: 3.8k words

warnings: depression, suicidal ideation, lack of resources (food), childhood trauma - this is not a light-hearted read so use caution for yourselves!

author's note:

the first part was posted on tumblr here

there are currently eight more installments of this up on my patreon and still being posted

I upload a piece of writing every 1-2 days.

I recently started a second tier called The OG Tier where 2

one shots (1-4kish) are posted a week.

There are currently 350 + pieces available to read

Tier I - $3 USD where you get access to main stories, everything except the mini one shots.

Tier II - $5 USD where you get access to every piece of writing!

you can check it out here

---

YN had laid back down in his bed after they had settled that she would go with him, that neither of them were attached to anyone else in any way, and all this was a bit of company - nothing more, nothing less.

Harry tried to keep his mind blank as he watched the road ahead of him.

It was a slippery slope that typically never led to happy thoughts when he lets himself be alone with them for too long at once.

They would creep in, like slow-cresting waves, and then hit him with the impact of a tsunami.

His body moved in practice, subconscious motions as he shifted gears with ease, flicking the windshield wipers up a notch because this weather was brutal and unrelenting.

Normally, Harry wasn’t concerned about such treacherous conditions where the roads were a sheet of white, snow flurrying rapidly and thick enough the clog the wind streams to make it nearly blinding.

He sickeningly enough enjoyed it because of the risk.

The higher possibility of death.

It was because what was the worst that could happen?

His truck could veer off the road.?

Hydroplane off the asphalt, hitting him into a guardrail, flipping it over until he’s falling down the steep embankment?

He would never want that to happen, only for Birdie’s sake, but if she wasn’t a factor then his answer would be different, most days.

 Harry hated to admit that there were more days than not that he thought about how much he wouldn’t mind such a thing to happen to him.

His life had never been easy, it’s why he fled his home when he was sixteen, lied about his age, and had a rough-around-the-edges older man who had hired him for some odd jobs around his mechanics shop taught him everything he needed to know about driving a semi-truck.

And as soon as he could get his commercial license, he found a job that had him driving a truck from one end of the states to the other to deliver furniture from a custom brand out of Canada.

He didn’t mind the job, except for when he was granted his time off.

It was three weeks on, two off, and for people with families, children, it was rigorous schedule but they looked forward to having the extended time to relax at home before another three weeks took them away.

Harry didn’t know what to do with himself for that two weeks.

His bosses had looked at him like he was insane when he asked if he could just not take those two weeks off.

The first time, he came back to his hometown because he didn’t know where else to go, and it hadn’t ended well - he gave his mother too many chances and it resulted in him heading back out onto the road with twelve hundred less dollars in his wallet.

He never went back, left all of his belongings at his childhood home, changed his number so that his mother couldn’t get a hold of him, and cooped up in extended stay hotels wherever he landed for those two weeks.

Occasionally, he would meet a cute girl at the local bar or a waitress at the diner who he would spend a night with.

He really wasn't a one-night-stand guy or just a casual hookup either, but he sought out those women when the thoughts got dark, when the loneliness seemed overwhelming, and he really wasn't seeking out sex as much as he was comfort and intimacy even if just for a few hours.

He never felt enough of a connection with any of them to visit on his next off-time, even if he had promised it a few times to smooth over the hurt he had caused by crushing their hopes of a relationship.

His work paid for his meals during his weeks on, he stayed in cheap hotels, and didn’t spend money on anything except necessities that his company card didn’t cover which led to quite a hefty sum in his bank account.

Enough that he could purchase on his own semi-truck, used and beat to shit, breaking down every couple thousand miles and causing more financial burden than it was worth, but it helped him start his own business.

He had his own transport company now, just his truck and him, nothing fancy or overly complicated.

He could pick and choose his work, always picking the highest paid contracts, and it really made him successful.

Enough so that he could purchase a new, top-of-the-line semi which he reasoned was the best investment because not only was he purchasing his work truck but his home as he would be living out of it.

Ever since he started his own company, with no off time because he had contracts lined up to fulfill for the next year, and then some that never gave him a break - just like he wanted, no time to get too lost in his own miserable shit that he preferred to suppress. 

No time off meant no life.

Harry hadn’t chatted anyone up at the bar, hell, he can’t remember the last time that he was even in one.

He can’t remember the last time he had sex either.

At some point, the company of a woman didn't quell those thoughts.

Sex workers knocked on his cabin door quite frequently, his flashy truck drew their attention with the hopes that he would be a generous tipper, but he always shooed them off.

He would be extra pissed if they woke him.

At some point between his first job and now, his depression had worsened to a deeper state than it had ever been in his life.

Life was a routine, monotonous and never-changing, miserable and defeating.

Harry convinced himself he didn’t need people, he only needed the open road and his dog, and that would be enough to suffice.

It was…

Somedays.

But other days (most of them), Harry found this sense of hopelessness, the weird in between where he wouldn’t do anything to end his life, but he wasn’t going to go kicking and screaming if it happened.

This world wasn’t made for him, he had told himself a long time ago.

It was destined to be a path of unhappiness from the moment he was born to the woman his mother was.

Happiness, prosperity, excitement towards life had never been an option when the woman who raised him rejected it all.

Harry couldn’t possibly start to consider his own behaviors of inviting this girl on a five-day trip with him around the country.

He was just being nice, is what he’ll tell himself because he’s fine being alone, really, he is.

It’s been this way for years; this was certainly just a blimp before his life becomes routine again.

++

Birdie is always sleeping in the passenger seat during the day.

It was weird to look to the side to see the seat empty, the expensive leather worn from the amount of time her lazy ass slept there.

However, Birdie was back with YN, tucked into her like they were the best of friends, and Harry never existed.

Traitor.

Acting as if Harry hadn't nursed her back to health when she was a puppy, too young to be away from her mother, and completely reliant on Harry to survive.

Could fool him.

Harry didn’t even want to acknowledge that Birdie has never taken to another person, ever, like she had with their visitor.

YN must have not slept well for weeks at this point, obvious by the dark circle under her eyes that had been covered with thick concealer when they’d first met.

YN didn't stir from his bed until nearly five in the evening, he had kept the blinds down, and the black-out curtains drawn so that no light was seeping in to disturb her as she slept, making up for lost time.

When YN finally does wake up, after using the bathroom, she pads up to the front of the cabin, and sits in the passenger seat, legs crossed and tucked under her as she glances out the windshield at the snowy mountains ahead of them.

Harry looks over at her, his eyes accidentally falling on her chest before they’re darting back up to her face - she wasn’t looking at him anyways but the henley she was wearing wasn’t the thickest and the pebbling of her nipples was obvious.

“Sleep alright?” Harry asks, eyes already back on the road, with this weather he didn’t have the luxury of not being vigilant.

“Yes, thank you,” YN replies as she curls her legs up, wrapping her arms around her knees, and resting her chin on her kneecaps.

Harry just nods, he’s not good at conversation, at one point he was but that was a skill he wasn’t familiar with anymore.

The extent of his communication was over the radio, letting other truckers know that they’re driving like assholes or the customers he had contracts with - that was really it.

They sit in silence for a few minutes, it’s comfortable for Harry but he can tell by the way that YN keeps looking over at him and then out the window, that it wasn’t the same for her as the only noise filtering in was the engine.

“Why don’t you have a home to go back to?” YN’s voice breaks the quiet, her voice is unsure because what were they supposed to being doing on this trip together?

Was YN supposed to keep him company by conversation since her purpose to come wasn’t sex.

Or did Harry just want the physical company?

Just a body in the seat, nothing more than that.

“Why don’t you?” Harry replies in a terse tone, it was defensive because he didn’t talk about his past, to anyone, fucking ever.

He felt emotion when he thought about what his home used to be.

It trudges up anger, helplessness, desperation.

All things that his depression helped him ignore.

He isn’t an open book, the most binded close, lock-protected type because he wasn’t going to share anything that made him vulnerable, weak, and the only thing that got him to the point was recalling what a shitty childhood he had.

Shitty was an understatement.

Harry feels instant regret for his choice of words when YN flinches at his response back, arms coming to wrap around her knees a bit tighter, and that has him cursing himself out in his mind.

He didn’t want YN to be scared of him, he could tell she was already a jumpy thing which most likely came with the required hypervigilance of the work that she does, and he doesn’t want her to have to feel that way with him.

“I’m sorry,” YN apologizes, a nervousness in her voice as she positions her body more towards the door, and away from him.

Fuck.

Harry doesn’t reply because he doesn’t know how to say ‘sorry’ without showing emotion.

As he never did before, vulnerability was his worst fear, and he was going to do anything and everything possible to never show it.

“I didn’t mean to snap at you,” Harry says instead, glancing over at her but she’s looking out the window, head now resting on the cold glass.

“It’s fine, I’m used to it,” YN dismisses easily, not turning to look back over at him.

And she didn’t say it in a way that she wanted sympathy or that anything like that.

Her voice was kind and forgiving, understanding which just shows how beat down she is.

Tired enough to just accept others' behaviors because that’s easier than fighting, accepting how people talked to her because she was so used to it that it didn’t seem like anything special when they did.

And God, that made Harry feel like absolute and utter shit.

He didn’t know YN, no, but he had a feeling that she really was a sweet girl under all the anxiousness and turmoil, and didn’t deserve that treatment from anyone.

Harry doesn’t want YN to feel like she has to get used to him treating her the same way that others have but they only have a few days together.

Why did this bother Harry so much when in the grand scheme of things, their time together was so limited that he shouldn’t care like he does, and he’ll continue to lie to himself - to chalk it up to a lame excuse.

Instead of apologizing, his voice is probably still too gruff when he responds, “You shouldn’t be used to shit like that. You need to stand up for yourself, not let people walk all over you. S’not right.”

YN picks at a loose thread of the pajamas pants she’s wearing, “I shouldn’t have asked, it’s my fault. I get why you said that.”

Harry hasn’t registered guilt as an emotion he’s had for a very long time, it hasn’t been a necessity, and it’s not YN’s fault that it's pounding inside his skull right now.

There’s something about how understanding she’s being, kind and giving him every opportunity to act like it never happened, and she deserves to be treated nicer - nicer than he was treating her too.

“S’not your fault,” Harry shakes his head, his fingers knuckling the steering wheel a bit harder because going from zero to a hundred of getting his feelings back wasn’t an easy thing to try to sift through - it was overwhelming, and he didn’t know why it was happening.

YN doesn’t say anything else, props her chin back on her knees after a while and watches the open road, her eyes trailing over the snow-capped mountain tops, to the wildlife they would occasionally see off in the plateaus. 

Harry finds himself wanting to talk.

He wants to know more about her, but he can’t do that when he just shut her out.

“You can go nap again, if you want. It’s going to be at least another hour before we’ll stop,” Harry tries to keep his voice more friendly, but it just comes out flat, monotone, bored.

YN had been leaning down to scratch behind Birdie’s ear, lounging right at her feet on the floor, perpetually dozing off - “I won’t sleep tonight if I do. If I’m bothering you, I can go back there.”

She slips her feet out from underneath her, standing up with the intention to get out of Harry’s space.

“No, that’s-” Harry cuts off when he realizes he had wrapped his fingers around her wrist to stop her, light with no real intention to stop her actions.

They both look down but Harry’s dropping his hold on her, continuing where he left off without acknowledging the touch, “That’s not what I meant. I just know this can be boring. I didn’t want you to feel obligated to feel like you had to sit up here with me.”

YN doesn’t seem alarmed or angered by the touch, she didn’t try to rip from his hold or shake him off, her body language was as calm as it had been before.

It was a relief because Harry was starting to have a sense of anxiety that YN  might be scared of him or intimidating, and he knew he came off…strong, unapproachable, unfriendly is just a few ways to describe him.

However, his intention is never to make her feel fear or concern about her safety around him.

His goal in these past twenty-four hours has become the exact opposite, an intense urge to protect her, even though he doesn’t know her or what she’s been through.

“I like sitting up here with you,” YN tells him shyly, her eyes darting away from him as she moves to sit back down in the passenger chair.

It had been a miracle that Birdie hadn’t snagged it in the short amount of time that YN had been out of it.

Harry’s chest warms at the admission, but he doesn’t let it show.

Of course he doesn’t.

Fuck, she’s pretty and Harry has to look back at the road because he could just stare, admire, and try to memorize her features because each time he gets a good look, he feels like he discovers something new about her.

He doesn’t say anything back, only leans over to turn up the heat a bit when he realizes that she has goosebumps on her arms, and she smiles to herself at that - almost like she doesn’t realize that she did.

And that anger floods in because all he did was turn the fucking heat up for her and apparently that gesture, that miniscule gesture, was enough to cause her to smile which make Harry wonder what the fuck she had gone through in her life.

Harry likes her smile, he thinks that he’d like to see it more often, and that thoughts are scary to him - all of this is more terrifying than it should be because his mind was becoming occupied with her.

So much so that he hadn’t thought much about his depression, his lowness, that dank place he tries to keep his mind out of at all today when normally it’s the only thing that is circulating in his mind.

++

Harry had been very spot on when he predicted that they would hit the next town in just a little of the hour.

He hadn’t eaten yet today and with a realization that he didn’t think that YN had either.

“Did you eat anything?” Harry asks with a frown, he knows that he startles YN a bit because they hadn’t spoken in that hour, and they probably would have if Harry had shut down the initial attempt at conversation, “At all today?”

“Not yet,” YN tells him as she sits up, stretching her arms above her head.

Harry knows to keep his eyes up because even out of his peripheral vision, he can see the flash of her smooth belly as the shirt rising just the slightest, and since when did he find his eyes wandering to that of any woman before?

It seemed that every inch of her body was of interest to him.

And even though that sounds bad, it truly wasn’t in a predatory or sexual way, it was more of an awe, admiration to how beautiful she was, and how perfectly she was crafted albeit much too skinny.

He can see the outline of her ribcage when she stretches, not enough fat on her bones to disguise them at all, her hip bones more prominent than they should be, and all of this a clear indication that she wasn’t eating enough.

And was Harry the person to talk to?

No, not really.

He was skinnier than he should be too.

Depression sucked the appetite from him, but he did enough to keep his muscles, even if his ribs are showing more than his abdominal muscles at this point but it was hard to have any motivation to care about his appearance that much. 

“Aren’t you hungry?” Harry doesn’t mean for it to come out as accusatory as it did, he really needed to work on his tone.

YN pulls at the hem of her shirt, almost like she realized that Harry noticed how skin and bones she was under her clothes, “I am but I also learned how to cope with the hunger pains when I get them. I try to save my money to eat when it gets to that point, where it hurts.”

Harry doesn’t like that one fucking bit.

“You’re not going to do that bullshit when you’re with me, you got it?” Harry huffs, letting his irritation show and he doesn’t know how it translates - whether she gets that it is because it concerns him or that she thinks that he just finds her annoying.

It’s a tossup at this point.

“You’re going to eat when you’re hungry, no stomach pains, none of that shit,” Harry meets her eye, facial expressions firm to show that he means it.

“I’m sorry,” YN apologizes again, eyes wider and remorseful, “I’ll eat.”

Harry wishes he had the words to tell her not to apologize, to explain his behavior, and that it was all with good intent.

He wasn’t yelling at her, but he was concerned.

Instead of saying those things, he just grunts out, “Good.”

“Did you eat?” YN asks in return, not throwing it in his face but genuine concern in her words.

Harry holds up his coffee cup, “This is my fuel.”

“But…you have money to eat?” 

The confusion knits her brow in a way that shouldn’t be as cute as it is.

“Yeah, m’just not hungry a lot of the times,” Harry shrugs, it’s not a lie.

YN’s lip twist at the side, thoughtful as she reties the knot of the pajama pants, too big and slipping down her hips, her voice quiet like if Harry hadn’t really been listening, he wouldn’t have heard it, and she probably wouldn’t have said it again.

“I really love McDonalds.”

+

[theemporium]

this is the first instalment of a mini 'wisdom teeth blurbs' series that i am doing as my last wee bit of writing for this year! and it only feels right to start out with my first babies<3

series masterlist

.

The engine came to a stop once Daniel turned the key in the ignition, letting silence settle in the car as the dental practice loomed past the windshield.

“I can’t believe this.” 

Despite the pain pulsing along his jaw, Daniel couldn’t help but smile a little as he turned to look at you in the passenger’s seat. “You aren’t even the one getting the surgery, Sunshine.” 

You let out a heavy sigh, leaning back in your seat as you glanced over at him. “Maybe they can sedate me too.”

“Everything is going to be fine,” Daniel assured you as he leaned over to take your hand in his, intertwining your fingers and giving you a soft squeeze. “They’ve done it a thousand times before. I’ll be in good hands.” 

“I know,” you murmured before you shifted in your seat, turning your body towards him. “Do me one favour?” 

“Anything.” 

“Smile for me.”

Daniel’s brows furrowed together as he tried to hold back his laugh. “What?” 

“Smile one last time in case they ruin my favourite smile,” you said, giving him your best puppy dog eyes, which only made the Aussie laugh harder. “Danny, I’m serious!”

“I know,” he said with a shake of his head, leaning over the console to take your face in his and press a quick kiss on your lips. “My smile is still gonna be here afterwards and I’ll smile all you want. Promise.” 

You sunk into his embrace, nodding. “Okay. Let’s go in before they start wondering why we are lingering here.” 

Daniel snorted. “You still good with driving my car after?” 

Something in his chest tightened at the way your face instantly lit up. “Oh yeah, I’m gonna be doing donuts in the car park while you’re inside.”

…

“Mrs Ricciardo?”

Your cheeks heated up as the nurse stepped out, head peeking around the door as she looked at you with a smile. A part of you knew you should have corrected her, but another part of you didn’t want to. You quickly gathered your belongings, following her as she led you through the different corridors until you reached the office Daniel was sitting in.

“MY WIFE!”

Your face was burning as every pair of eyes settled on you, but your focus was the boy lying on the chair. He was grinning at you, mouth stuffed with bloody gauze and a blissed out look on his face that only laughing gas could give a person. 

“Hey, baby,” you smiled as you approached him, barely in arm’s length of the boy before he was tugging you close. Before you could even say anything, he wrapped his arms around your thighs, settling his head against your stomach. “Someone missed me.”

“He’s been asking for his wife ever since he woke up,” the nurse said with a kind smile on her face. “Kept on telling us we would never believe how pretty she is.” 

“Oh wow,” you murmured, though your stomach warmed at the thought.

“He also wouldn’t allow us to let you in until we assured him his smile was still perfect,” she continued and you couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

“Your smile is still perfect, baby,” you assured your boyfriend as you looked down at him, fingers lightly pushing his curls back from his face. 

“Really?” His wide eyes staring up at you, full of love and adoration. 

“Really,” you confirmed as you leaned down to kiss his forehead. “C’mon, let’s get you back home.” 

“Cuddles?” He asked hopefully.

You laughed, nodding. “All the cuddles you want, baby.”

“I have the best wife!”

.

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

1963 Pontiac Tempest 421 Super Duty station wagon

1963 Tempest 421 Super Duty station wagon. Pontiac produced 12 of these hand-built race cars (6 Le Mans Coupes, 6 Tempest Station Wagons) for NHRA competition. All 12 cars had aluminum front ends (hood, fenders, valance, grill surrounds, core support), aluminum radiators, plexiglass windshield, lightweight bumpers, and they were built without sound deadener, seam sealer, radios, or heaters. The cars still used the Tempest transaxle setup, modified to handle the torque of the mighty 421SD, and had the factory "326" engine callout badges installed. 

The transmission for these 12 cars was unique. The flexible driveshaft, or "rope" driveshaft as it's sometimes called, sent power back to a heavily modified transaxle that consisted of a standard aluminum automatic transaxle case, a modified cast-iron differential carrier, and a ***second*** aluminum case bolted to the back of the differential carrier to provide a total of ***four ***forward gears. The transaxle was longer than stock (about 18") which required a notch in the gas tank. You used a clutch to get moving, but then you shifted without the clutch. It was sort of a manual-automatic. 

The 421SD was (underrated) at 405 hp, and this monster engine, placed in the small Tempest body with extra lightening provided by Pontiac engineering, was a lethal combination on the dragstrip. .