#Diesel Laptops

[mypremiummanual01]

The Importance of Diagnostic Software in Modern Automotive Repair

In today's fast-paced world, the automotive industry continues to evolve with increasingly complex vehicles. With advanced technology integrated into modern cars, trucks, and machinery, having the right diagnostic tools is more important than ever. This is where diagnostic software comes into play, providing mechanics, repair shops, and DIY enthusiasts with the tools needed to quickly identify issues and make necessary repairs. My Premium Manual Source offers reliable diagnostic solutions that empower automotive professionals to work efficiently and effectively.

What is Diagnostic Software?

Diagnostic software refers to programs designed to interface with a vehicle’s onboard computer systems to monitor, troubleshoot, and repair automotive components. These systems can identify faults in a vehicle's engine, transmission, brakes, and other critical systems. The software communicates with the vehicle’s control modules to read trouble codes, monitor performance parameters, and even clear fault codes when the issues are fixed.

Types of Diagnostic Software

OBD-II Software: - One of the most common diagnostic tools is OBD-II (On-Board Diagnostics), a system used in vehicles manufactured after 1996. OBD-II software enables professionals to read engine fault codes, monitor vehicle performance, and reset the Check Engine light.

Manufacturer-Specific Software: - Some diagnostic software is specifically designed for particular vehicle brands, such as Ford, BMW, or Toyota. These tools offer more in-depth diagnostics and specialized capabilities for those working with specific makes and models.

Multibrand Diagnostic Tools: - These software solutions cater to a wide range of vehicles, making them ideal for mechanics working on various brands and models. Multibrand diagnostic software is a great investment for shops or individuals who service different types of vehicles.

Advantages of Using Diagnostic Software

Faster Diagnostics: - Traditional diagnostic methods often require manual inspections, which can take a significant amount of time. Diagnostic software streamlines the process by quickly pinpointing issues, allowing mechanics to focus on repairs rather than troubleshooting.

Accurate Results: - Manual diagnostics are prone to human error, which can lead to missed or misdiagnosed problems. With diagnostic software, you get precise results backed by technology, ensuring that no fault goes unnoticed.

Cost-Effective: - Early detection of problems allows for more efficient repairs, which can save money in the long run. By preventing larger, more expensive repairs, diagnostic software helps vehicle owners and service providers manage costs effectively.

Conclusion

Diagnostic software is an indispensable tool for anyone involved in automotive repair or maintenance. With the right software, automotive professionals can increase productivity, reduce costs, and provide better services to their customers. At My Premium Manual Source, we are dedicated to providing top-quality diagnostic software and manuals that help you get the job done right the first time. Whether you’re working on a diesel truck, luxury car, or standard passenger vehicle, we have the tools you need to stay ahead in the world of automotive diagnostics.

[kumoriexists]

Starlight Express has taken over my life so much that when I finally was able to decorate my laptop I purchased a bunch of StEx stickers from redbubble from some of my all time FAVORITE artists ever and put them all over my laptop

(With chiikawa and Mental health positivity stickers too!!)

I look like a total nerd in public but they make me happy <3

[satanzayoru25341]

Bucky on My Laptop and My Tablet 💛⚡️

Well, I guess I am indeed having a perfect timing since Sebastian Stan said a phrase as Bucky Barnes in an interview.

Now that everything is settled, let's wait for the video where Sebastian said a phrase as Bucky in an interview to be found and the Thunderbolts* announcement and updates!

[suratan-zir]

Do you mind me asking how the electricity situation is? I understand it's probably awful to put it lightly. But Russia is targeting electrical infrastructure now

Hi. I can only talk about my area, which is in central Ukraine, the situation is different for each region. We have schedules for hourly blackouts. Sounds scary, but it's just so people can be prepared to be without electricity for two or more hours and know when it happens, then another two hours with power, and so on. Each address has a queue number corresponding to a particular blackout schedule, so it’s not only different between regions but even within one city.

After the most recent mass attack, some people in my town were without power for many hours, while others, like my lucky self, experienced only "regular" blackouts. Now we typically have 2-4 hours without power - sometimes less, sometimes more. Other queues have it worse than we do, it depends. We've been lucky lately. On weekends, we almost don’t have blackouts. Overall, it’s been much better than this summer when we sometimes had just 1–2 hours with electricity a day, nonconsecutive. It was hell. For the past two days, it’s been completely normal for us. Almost no outages!

Again, this is my small town in the center of Ukraine. People closer to the frontlines have it much, much worse. If a city is within the range of Russian artillery, they target infrastructure day and night, deliberately attacking and killing workers who arrive to fix it.

In the rest of Ukraine, people have adapted to the blackouts. Those with money and private houses have diesel generators and/or solar panels. People in flats, like us, rely on charging stations, power banks, etc. Most of the stores have generators. We have two large charging stations: one for our heater/boiler (which can run for about a day or more) and one for our laptops and fiber-optic internet, which works even during power outages. One day, when we had no power for a long time, we went outside and smelled gas - turns out our downstairs neighbor put a generator right below his flat’s window. (that’s gotta be illegal, though, lol)

Of course, all these measures are expensive, and not everyone can afford them. But the situation could've been way worse.

Sorry if this reply is too long.

[authorhjk1]

Interlude: Above the sky

IU X Minatozaki Sana X Male Reader

You sigh as you sit in one of the chairs at the airport.

It has been a while, since you last flew with a commercial airplane. You are headed to Italy. There is an urgent meeting, involving everyone, who is important at the Diesel company. You can proudly say that you are one of them. Unfortunately though, your jet is currently being repaired and refurbished.

Waiting for the call to board the plane, you occasionally glance at the incoming passengers, while working on your laptop.

When you suddenly hear the sounds of cameras flashing and cheers, you turn around in your seat. Two women, who are being swarmed by reporters walk towards your gate.

Great. More noise. You sigh as you realize you won't be able to keep working. Luckily, boarding time starts soon.

As the women slowly get closer, you see that one of them is wearing a fancy looking suit outfit and one is wearing a simple black dress. The large bow in the second woman's hair makes her look cute. And smaller than she actually is. Because in that moment, you realize who is walking in your direction.

IU. The woman you and Miyeon had.... fun with. You wonder if she still remembers you. Not being able to identify the other woman, you are glad you are now able to board the plane.

You don't think IU saw you as you walk towards the door.

At the door the captain and the crew welcome you. Being the owner of the airline you are flying with is somewhat beneficial. Although you tried to hide it as much as possible. You usually don't like too much attention, especially when you are busy or on your way to a meeting.

Sitting down in first class, you enjoy the comfort of the chair. The blue interior matches the plane's exterior as you look around. This is somewhat your airplane after all.

It takes only a couple of minutes, before you aren't the only one in first class anymore. People start to take their seats, while you take the laptop out of your bag.

Sitting in the middle seat, you don't believe your eyes, when you see the two women sit down on your right. IU on the left, the other on the right. You could've sworn you saw her somewhere before. Guessing from the way she looks, she must be an idol as well. You see her smile. It's probably one of the cutest things you have ever seen.

Wanting to tease the older woman, you lean through the small aisle towards her.

"Can I get an autograph?"

You can't hide a teasing grin as she turns around. Her eyes widen when she seems to recognize you.

"Surprise."

"What-"

She stops, her mouth open.

"Is he a friend?"

The girl's voice sounds as cute as she looks.

"Kind of. Nice to meet you, (y/n)."

You reach around IU to shake her hand.

"Minatozaki Sana. It's a pleasure."

You watch IU looking at Sana's hand in yours, before you pull away. Not without your hand grazing against her chest. No one would notice except her. You see her look down, biting her lip.

You remember how needy she was last time, although it partially might have been the alcohol.

"How do the two of you know each other?"

IU's eyes grow wide as she hears Sana's question. For an actress, she isn't very good at hiding her surprise.

"Well.... We..."

"She was attending the opening of my restaurant."

"Oh really? Which one?"

"It's in Paris. I doubt you know it."

Sana seems to be thinking hard.

"Ah. The one Lisa went to?"

You nod.

"Exactly. I'm happy that you seem to know it."

"Of course I do. I heard the food is very delicious there."

While she gives you an adorable smile, you realize that IU is still not talking. Although her hand is resting on her naked knee, playing with the hem of her dress.

"If you are ever in Paris, I hope you will stop by."

"I will give you an awesome review."

Sana gives you a thumbs up.

"What did you eat there, unnie?"

"Hmmm? What?"

IU looks like she got caught. You expected her to be more cool about this, but it looks like she is unable to clear her mind of the things you did.

"I don't remember."

She now looks at you. Her dark eyes locked onto yours.

"But I know it was delicious."

That switch of attitude makes you silently raise an eye brow at her. How did she just got from shy and scared to hot and suggestive?

A sly smirk plays around her lips. Maybe she is a better actress than you thought.

Once the plane is in the air, you get rid of your seatbelt. The tight fabric made the situation in your pants slightly worse. IU keeps glancing at you. Sometimes a naughty smile on her face, sometimes her fingers lift up her dress. Her full thighs distract you from working.

You are glad that barely any people seem to be sitting in first class. Except for you three, there is only one man two rows ahead and an older couple maybe three rows behind you. Is it always that empty in first class?

You really do try your best to keep working, but as soon as Ji-eun stands up, you throw all caution out the window. The dress she is wearing seemed quite long. That's why you are surprised, when she reaches up to take something out of her luggage.

The black fabric rides up her body, until her lower half is almost completely exposed. Standing on her tip toes, Ji-eun shows off her ass to you. Her black thong leaves her cheeks exposed, only barely covering her pussy. You catch glimps of her lips. Remembering the last time you saw her naked pussy, you have to hold back to not just reach for it.

When she is about to sit down, Sana stands up too.

"I need to use the bathroom real quick."

She steps past the older woman, before walking down the small aisle.

Ji-eun watches her leave. You already expected something once the two of you would be alone, but not this. As soon as IU is sure no one is looking, she straddles your lap.

"I can't help it. Your cock felt so good."

Her breathless words still linger in your ear as she latches her lips onto your neck. While showering your skin with kisses, IU slowly grinds on top of you.

"Darn it. Do you know how often I got myself off thinking about that night?"

Her hands move towards your belt.

"What are you doing?"

You are finally able to talk, a little overwhelmed from the older woman's attack.

"What do you mean? You don't wanna fuck?"

"Shhh."

You shush her, afraid someone heard her.

"Here? Are you crazy?"

She just shrugs her shoulders.

"As long as you fill me with cock, I don't care where."

Her lips reattach themselves to your neck. Her hair slightly tickles, while her cute bow is right in front of your face.

You try your best. You really do. But suddenly, you find your hands underneath IU's dress. Feeling the smooth skin on her full thighs, you lean your head back, while she fumbles for your zipper. Her grinding increases as you start to feel her wetness on your leg. Only the thin fabric of your pants and her thong are between the two of you.

IU suddenly stops, looking above your head behind you.

"Shit."

You suspect it's Sana. Expecting, IU to leave, you let go of her thighs. Instead she just drops to her knees. She reaches for the blanket next to you, covering herself and your lap. You feel her warm breath against your clothed crotch as you hear Sana coming from behind.

"Excuse me. Do you know where IU unnie went?"

"I think she left right after you. In the same direction."

"Really? I didn't see her."

Sana flashes you another smile.

"Thank you."

She turns around to look at the direction she came from, before sitting back down in her seat.

You suddenly hear the zipper of your pants being opened. Which is odd, since both of IU's hands are resting on your thighs. Is she doing this with her teeth?

You feel her pull down the zipper, until finally one hand leaves your leg. Her hand undoes the button of your boxers.

If you weren't hard before, you are now as IU fishes out your cock. Her warm hand strokes your length once or twice, before you feel her wet lips wrap around your tip. You have to suppress a groan as her tongue swirls around it. IU starts to take you deeper inside her mouth. Her wet slurps barely louder than a whisper.

You place your hands on the blanket over her head, trying to hide the bulge her head is creating. Ji-eun humms around your cock in response as she keeps sucking you off.

You can't believe this is happening. Your legs start to become jelly as the woman on her knees let's her lips glide to the base of your cock. Her tongue follows, grazing the underside of your shaft.

You glance at Sana, hoping she doesn't see anything. But after looking at her once or twice, it becomes hard to look away. Since Ji-eun swallows your cock underneath the blanket, you somewhat miss the visual stimuli. Luckily, Sana is more than enough.

Since her shorts are barely covering her center, her full thighs are on display. You try to imagine them around your head, squeezing you as you eat her out. It's hard though. It's hard to focus on anything when IU is silently giving you head. You have to lean your head against your chair, trying to compensate the pleasure you are feeling. How is she so good at this?

Glancing at Sana again, you see her lean over her phone. She was typing something on it a couple of moments ago. Now it seems like she is watching a video or something. Her eyes are wide, the screen very close to her face.

When you feel yourself hitting the back of IU's throat, you press her head down. It's a subconscious action as you try to appear normal. You hear her slightly gagging when she is unable to move. Closing your eyes, you feel yourself getting closer to the end.

Ji-eun starts to become louder. You hope no one hears her as you open your eyes again. You are unable to see straight as you look around. Your eyes lock onto Sana's. The woman's head is turned towards you, her lips slightly parted. Her hand with her phone is resting on her lap, while the other tuggs a couple of strands behind her ear. Did she catch you?

Instinctively you press Ji-eun's face further into your lap, hoping Sana didn't see her head bobbing. You hear IU slightly gagging as she tries to breath through her nose while her throat is stuffed with your cock.

Sana gives you a coy smile, before she turns away again. You did catch her stealing a glance at your crotch. Fuck.

That nervous feeling doesn't last long as IU keeps working your shaft. You suddenly come to a realization. What are you going to do next? What happens after Ji-eun is done with you? How is she going to get out of there? There is no way she planing to stay on her knees until the end of her flight. Is she?

You dig your fingers into your armrests. IU keeps slobbering over your dick in almost complete silence, while her hands glide over your pants. In a normal situation you would've started to fuck her face by now. But this isn't normal. This is public. It doesn't get much riskier than that. Getting head as you sit in your seat in your airplane.

The situation worsens when you get a call. You neither have the composure, nor the current mental stability to wonder who it might be. Without even looking at the screen, you pick up.

"Hi, daddy."

You almost groan in disbelief as you recognize her voice. Checking your screen confirms your suspicion.

"Princess #1"

Wonyoung is number two, which means...

"Hi, Miyeon. What is it?"

You try to sound nonchalant, although it is almost impossible. Hearing Miyeon snicker on the other side of the call makes you blush for some reason.

"Who is it?"

"IU."

You half whisper half moan. No reason to lie.

"Well, that's great, but I'm calling because of her fellow traveller."

"What?"

You look to your right at Sana, catching her look away from you.

"She knows who you are."

"How?"

"I might have told her a thing or two about us."

You sigh.

"So?"

"Just go the bathroom in a couple of minutes. She is too shy to ask."

"Miyeon-"

"I hope IU sumbenim is taking great care of you. Her asshole was so tight when I fucked her. Just saying."

You are stunned when you realize that Miyeon hung up on you. Who does she think she is? Talking about you with Sana and then telling you to follow her friend to the bathroom? You don't need to be bright to figure out why.

You turn your head as you see Sana standing up. As she walks past you, she let's her hand glide along your arm. You look after her as she walks back towards the bathroom. She took off her jacket earlier. Her tight shorts hugg her cheeks perfectly as she walks down the aisle.

"Fuck.Ji-eun, stop."

You get the blanket off her.

IU looks up at you. Her black bow is a little tilted, her chin covered in her spit.

She let's your cock fall out of her mouth, before stroking it slowly.

"What?"

"Sana is gone and-"

"Finally."

She gets up and straddles your lap once more.

"Wait."

You hold her by her waist, before she is able to keep moving.

"Miyeon just called. She wanted me to follow Sana into the bathroom."

"Oh."

Ji-eun is visibly disappointed.

"I'm gonna go now."

She shakes her head.

"We need to finish what we started. I haven't had sex since the night in Paris. Please."

"Get off me. We will continue this after we land."

IU glares at you.

"Why? Just because she is younger than me?"

"No-"

"Fine. Go."

She gets off you, sitting down in her own seat. Her arms are crossed in front of her chest. Her lips forming a cute pout.

"Ji-eun-"

She looks up at you. Her stare shuts you up.

"I will be in Venice for four days. I expect you to make it up to me during every single second I don't have a schedule."

You nod before following after Sana. Your meeting is today, after you land. Afterwards you should have enough time for IU.

Reaching the restroom, you look around, but no one seems to care about your presence. Seeing it being unlocked, you slip inside.

As soon as you close the door behind you, you feel Sana crashing into you. Her lips attack yours, while she grinds her body against you.

"Sana, what..."

She takes a step back.

"If you are only half as good as Miyeon said...."

She trails off, before reaching for you once again. This time, you hold her waist, holding her close, while Sana invades your mouth.

And Miyeon said she was shy?

The Japanese girl, you guessed because of her name, sneaks her arms around you while she deepens the kiss. Your hands start to explore her body. You notice how slim her waist is. How smooth the skin under her shirt and how full her thighs are. Reaching behind her, you place your palms on her cheeks.

"God yes."

She sighs as you squeeze them respectively.

"I need you."

Her lips find your neck, just like IU's earlier.

"Mina played with me without making me cum."

Her breathless words make you feel goosebumps as she whispers against your neck. Who is Mina? Her bandmate?

"She started it minutes before I had to leave."

Sana kisses down your neck, slowly reaching your collarbone.

"Do you know what that does to a girl? Almost cuming and then having to wait for hours?"

You feel the Japanese girl's hands leave your neck as she reaches for your pants.

"I don't even care how you fuck me by now. Just do it. I need to cum."

While still having questions about Mina and still not sure how you got here exactly, you spring into action. If there is something, besides doing business, you are good at than it's sex. At least that's what you think. Why would you sleep with so many idols otherwise?

You hold Sana's cheeks more firmly, before lifting her off the ground. She is just as light as the others. She has gotten rid of your zipper by now and is working on the button of your boxers, which you just closed barely a minute ago.

"Take me. Take me how you want. I just need something in me."

Her breathless whisper makes you step forward, sitting her down on the edge of the sink. While you capture her lips with yours, you unbuckle her belt.

Sana moans into your mouth as you pull her shorts off her. Her pink panties already damp with arousal.

Wanting to make this quick, you just slide them aside, revealing Sana's snatch. It's a mouthwatering sight. For some reason it looks smaller than you expected.

You let you hands dance along her lower lips as it's now your turn to kiss her neck. Sana let's her head fall back, moaning in delight at your touch. For a second you wonder if you should finger her to orgasm first, but you decide against it. You want to make this quick. And you would rather have Sana cum on your cock than your fingers.

"Put it in, please."

As if on cue, Sana starts to whine.

"I'm already soaked thinking about you. Just give me that cock Miyeon always talks about."

You pull out your cock through the holes in your pants and boxers.

"That's huge."

Sana looks down in shock.

"But why is it wet?"

You don't answer. Instead you align it with her pussy. Pushing past her lips makes Sana almost fall backwards into the sink. You have to hold her firmly as her back arches. You are almost afraid she is gonna break it.

"That's fucking big."

She hisses as if she is in pain.

"I'm used to smaller toys."

You wait for her, letting her take a couple of deep breaths.

Once Sana finally adjusted to the feeling of her hole being stretched like never before, she sits back up, locking her hands behind your neck.

"Carry me. Impale me on your dick."

It's a combination of command and plea as Sana's eyes seem darker than before. Although that could be due to the dim light.

You slowly pick her up and lift her off the sink. Gravity doing it's work, slowly makes Sana glide down to your base. You see her eyes roll to the back of her head. She holds harder onto your neck with every inch she is taking.

"Oh god."

Sana sighs once you finally bottom out inside of her. It took a couple of moments, but you are more than glad it took this long. Sana's pussy is tight. Her walls grip onto you, clearly not wanting you to ever leave. For some reason, Sana's pussy feels a little similar to Rei's. Is that a coincidence? Or because they are both Japanese? You almost laugh at that thought. That's impossible.

Either way, you start to lift up Sana until only your tip is inside of her. You make her glide down along your length. Up and down. Up and down.

Before you know it, you are already truly fucking Sana inside the restroom. Her moans are muffled by your shirt, which she is biting into. Or rather your shoulder. The pain is small enough to blend out. Her moans increase in volume and numbers. They become higher and more needy.

With a strong grip on her ass cheeks, you keep moving Sana. Her body barely moving on its own, her pussy only a fleshlight for your cock.

"More. More please."

Sana let's go of your shoulder for just a moment. You keep fucking her, hoping that no one can hear her moan. Her walls start to tighten around you even further.

"Gonna cum!"

She let's out a mewl into your shoulder as she clings to you like a panda. You keep moving her up and down. Relentlessly impaling her on your cock.

"Oh god!"

Sana finally cums on your dick. Her walls squeeze you, trying to make you cum as well. Her body shakes a little, making you hold her a little tighter. The pink panties she is wearing are now soaking wet. Her hair is a mess.

"That was so good."

She is still breathing heavily, but finally stopped biting you.

"Let's go."

You start to put Sana down.

It's a difficult decision to pull out of the Japanese's snug pussy, but you could get caught any second.

"But-"

"You can do that in our seats."

"What about IU?"

"Why do you think my cock was already wet?"

Sana's mouth opens in a wide O in realization.

"That slut."

Sana giggles as she slowly starts to get her pants on. You close your zipper and open the door.

Only a couple of seconds later, you are back in your seat. But not alone. You are glad that the space in first class is so big.

"You taste so good, Sana."

IU complements her as she swallows your cock. It took no convincing at all to make IU drop to her knees in front of your seat. Sana is kneeling next to her, admiring her work.

IU's bow is bobbing up and down in rhythm with her head. One of her hands is wrapped around your base, while the other rests on your left thigh. Sana occupies your other as she leans on it, watching the older woman.

With a cute, naughty smile she shifts her gaze from IU to you.

"I hope we can do this for the rest of our stay in Venice."

Ji-eun looks up at you, her lips still wrapped around your cock. She is reminding you of the deal you two made, before you left to fuck Sana.

Without a warning, Ji-eun starts to deep throat you once again. You suddenly hit the back of her throat. This time, she doesn't silence herself. The gagging noises are probably loud enough for the other three passengers to hear.

She holds her head in place for what feel like forever. You hold onto your armrests, hoping to hold out just a little longer.

"Unnie, I want to make him cum."

Sana watches your spit covered cock fall out of Ji-eun's mouth. Her hand still holding your base, the older woman slightly points your cock in Sana's direction.

The Japanese girl sticks her tongue out. She slowly swirls it around the tip of your cock, not breaking eye contact. Her dark eyes look deeper than ever before.

She adds a hand as well. Her right is joining IU's, both of their hands cover around two thirds of your cock. Sana wraps her lips around your tip, hollowing her cheeks. Her tongue keeps swirling , while she slowly sucks you off.

It is completely different from most of the girls so far. While the others usually do this quickly with desperate need for you to finish, Sana takes her time. As if she is convincing your cock to cum on its own.

You groan as you feel the effects first hand. Shifting around in your seat, you know it's only a matter of seconds.

"Look at him. Struggling to hold it in."

IU chuckles before licking her lips.

"I can't wait to make him cum for four whole days."

Sana's mouth, both of their hands, IU's eyes, her words. It all proves too much. With one last groan, you feel yourself twitching against Sana's tongue.

A second before you explode, she pulls away. You are barely able to watch as you cum all over both of their hands. I leaks down in small streams. It coats their fingers and their wrists.

As soon as you come back down, Sana dives in for her first taste. With her daring tongue, she starts with IU's hand, slowly pulling her tongue across the older girl's fingers.

"Delicious."

She licks her lips, before turning towards IU. Since Sana must have scooped up a good amount of cum, you are in awe as you watch the two exchanging a messy kiss. You see a small string, a mix of saliva and your cum, hang from both of their chins as they keep making out.

This is gonna be a long four day trip.

And quite possibly a long flight.

__________

Hi everyone!

I hope you enjoyed this one.

Tomorrow the December special polls will be posted. If you don't know what that is, you don't know how to vote, or you want to find out what chapters you can vote for, it's all here.

[probablyasocialecologist]

The flotsam and jetsam of our digital queries and transactions, the flurry of electrons flitting about, warm the medium of air. Heat is the waste product of computation, and if left unchecked, it becomes a foil to the workings of digital civilization. Heat must therefore be relentlessly abated to keep the engine of the digital thrumming in a constant state, 24 hours a day, every day. To quell this thermodynamic threat, data centers overwhelmingly rely on air conditioning, a mechanical process that refrigerates the gaseous medium of air, so that it can displace or lift perilous heat away from computers. Today, power-hungry computer room air conditioners (CRACs) or computer room air handlers (CRAHs) are staples of even the most advanced data centers. In North America, most data centers draw power from “dirty” electricity grids, especially in Virginia’s “data center alley,” the site of 70 percent of the world’s internet traffic in 2019. To cool, the Cloud burns carbon, what Jeffrey Moro calls an “elemental irony.” In most data centers today, cooling accounts for greater than 40 percent of electricity usage.

[...]

The Cloud now has a greater carbon footprint than the airline industry. A single data center can consume the equivalent electricity of 50,000 homes. At 200 terawatt hours (TWh) annually, data centers collectively devour more energy than some nation-states. Today, the electricity utilized by data centers accounts for 0.3 percent of overall carbon emissions, and if we extend our accounting to include networked devices like laptops, smartphones, and tablets, the total shifts to 2 percent of global carbon emissions. Why so much energy? Beyond cooling, the energy requirements of data centers are vast. To meet the pledge to customers that their data and cloud services will be available anytime, anywhere, data centers are designed to be hyper-redundant: If one system fails, another is ready to take its place at a moment’s notice, to prevent a disruption in user experiences. Like Tom’s air conditioners idling in a low-power state, ready to rev up when things get too hot, the data center is a Russian doll of redundancies: redundant power systems like diesel generators, redundant servers ready to take over computational processes should others become unexpectedly unavailable, and so forth. In some cases, only 6 to 12 percent of energy consumed is devoted to active computational processes. The remainder is allocated to cooling and maintaining chains upon chains of redundant fail-safes to prevent costly downtime.

[luciacaminoz]

IT’S SAM and i want julian and sol wrist kiss for the drabble prompt :3 no rush!

you got 3k of vampire toxicity <3

Desert Ghosts

August 2005

The warehouse throbs with a bassline that could crack ribs.

Scorched earth of Hidalgo-Cochise borderlands underfoot, corrugated walls crumbling and bleeding graffiti: GOD HATES YOUR FUCKING PULSE. The air reeks of diesel and sagebrush, the kind of nowhere place that swallows screams and buries bodies. Tonight, though, The Dead Zone’s alive, vibrating the sand out of scorpion carcasses. Strobes carve jagged shadows through clove smoke into a writhing ecosystem of four hundred—mortals high on a pharmacopeia of sins, Kindred high on the kine. Some fucker in neon shuttershades and black PVC (callsign: GLITCHGOD) is DJing a remix of Clubbed to Death spliced with Gregorian chants, emergency sirens, and the thock-thock of helicopter blades. When he screeches into the mic, his voice distorts through a pedal that makes him sound like a chipmunk. “BUSH DID 9/11!” The crowd surges; screams back. It’s a slaughterhouse ballet in the pit. Tweakers with meth-jaw tremors rub shoulders with trust fund coke-heads. Jock-straps, pigtails, balaclavas, tutus, U of A hoodies—somewhere there’s a Ventrue neonate in a fucking pantsuit and Louboutins. A shirtless guy with a soul-patch grinds up on a goth chick whose fishnets are shredded from climbing barbed wire fencing. Their sweat mingles with the underlying brine of blood, ozone and festering needle tracks clinging to the walls. Over by the bar (huge, spray-painted plywood board; oil drums), a frat boy pukes Jägermeister and glowstick fluid onto his box-fresh high-tops. His buddies laugh and shout “dude!” and film it on flip phones and BlackBerry’s.

On the opposite side of brick and mortar, a Gangrel shovelhead tears into some drunk kid’s throat mid-piss behind creosote. His carotid crunches like a honeycrisp apple. (Body’ll be found at sunrise, blamed on coyotes.) No one cares. The desert especially doesn’t give a fuck about you. The rules here, for both kine and Kindred, are simple: Don’t piss off the bikers guarding the doors. (Those aren’t bikers, by the way.) Julian leans against a rattling speaker stack near the far end of the space, pale and absurd in his Akira tank top and fingerless gloves, pretending to fix something while actually scouring a laptop he’d swiped from the booth. His mismatched earrings catch fractals of UV every few seconds, and his arms are vein-mapped as they move under blacklight. Sol, absently nodding along to whatever conversation is happening beside her, watches him from where she’s perched at the end of the bar. She’s wearing a thrifted slip dress; backless, the color of dried blood, safety-pinned at the hip; a pair of glowstick bangles, and boots that’ve stomped through worse than this. Her hair’s a glossy, dark pool gathered en masse over one shoulder, Nuestra Señora de los Dolores in red and black ink on full display up her spine. They're supposed to be tracking an informant—a starved ghoul left to dry, now trading Cam intel for blood on the border. She’s supposed to be charming the Anarch envoy slouched next to her—some Brujah fuck with a septum ring and a “KILL YOUR LOCAL LANDLORD” patch sewn into his denim vest. He’s been monologuing about dialectical materialism for twenty minutes, spittle flecking his beard. But she’s bored. She’s always bored without Julian.

The Brujah’s still talking. “—so like, Marx’s theory of alienation under capitalism is basically the same as the Beast, right? We’re all just—” Sol cuts him off by sliding off the stool, her hip brushing his knee. “Gonna smoke,” she lies. “I’ll come—” “No.” She’s already walking, kine parting for her like she’s got a fucking forcefield. Her eyes stay locked on Julian as he chews his lip, thumb jamming the spacebar. She knows that look. When she’s close enough to smell him—bergamot oil and static—she hooks a finger into the belt loop of his jeans and yanks. “Jesus!” He spins, but his glare quickly dissolves into a grin. “I’m working.” “You’re losing,” she corrects, nodding at the screen. A progress bar’s frozen at 69%. “Nice.” He snorts. “Firewall’s got more layers than your mom’s—” “Finish that and I’ll rip your dick off, Sim.” “You’d miss it.”

Sol’s cheeks dimple (lopsided) when she smiles, teeth turned violet under the blacklight, the barest hint of fang. She steps closer, her knee nudging his thigh. Julian’s irises are voids; she can see the hunger in him—not for blood, but for the win. “Take a break,” she says, softer. “Dance with me.” “Dance?” He barks a little laugh. “You know I don’t—” The Brujah envoy’s watching them now. So’s the Ventrue in the Louboutins, pretending not to. Julian hesitates—then slams the laptop shut. “Fine. One song.” “Two.” “Don’t push it.” She grabs his wrist, cold and corded, and drags him into the swarm. “THIS ONE’S FOR ALL YOU DEAD FUCKS IN THE HOUSE—YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE!” It’s a remix of Closer, reverb heavy enough to thrum the stale blood in their veins, with intervals of deep-sea whale song. Sol sways first, all hips and dark eyes and waterfall-curls, her dress slipping off one shoulder, accidentally-on-purpose. Julian stands stiff, arms crossed, like he’s waiting for the beat, or Trent Reznor, or GLITCHGOD, to punch him. “Relax,” she shouts over the noise. “I am relaxed.” “You look like you’re cosplaying a fucking utility pole.” He laughs, sharp and sudden, and, yeah, he cracks. His shoulders drop. His head tips back, throat bobbing as he lets the rhythm hit him—there.

Sol turns, dodging a raver’s elbow, and closes the distance until her back’s to his chest. He doesn’t say anything, but his hands immediately find her hips, thumbs pressing into the divots of her pelvis. The contact zips through her like a live wire; an overwhelming urge to rouse the Blood. She leans into him as they move. The song fractures into static, then a warped sample of Toxic meets The Exorcist. Sol grinds against him. He’s half-hard. “Sol,” he warns. She continues, smiling. It’s evil. His grip tightens. He spins her, pins her front to his chest, his hand sliding up her ribs to cup her breast. Her nipple pebbles under the thin fabric. Sol’s cheeks flush by the millisecond as blood starts to move. Her lips graze the smooth sweep of his jaw. Julian’s fingers dig into her waist. He’s straining against her lower stomach. The song ends. The crowd howls. “One more,” she says by his ear. “Sol—” “One more.” He gives her a look—but nods.

This track’s slower, dirtier, all distorted moans and sub-bass—no whales. Her hands slide to his chest. His heart doesn’t beat, obviously—what’s under her palm is a sick mimicry—but his skin is heating up, beginning to glisten, and she feels the want between them. Her lips find his neck. Fangs drag along soft, supple white flesh. Julian stiffens slightly—not fear, but awareness as the Beast prickles under his skin. Sol licks a hot, wet stripe up his jugular; savors the feel of his Adam’s apple stressing under the press of her tongue when he swallows reflexively. She nips his chin, then his bottom lip. He shudders. When she pulls back in his arms her eyes are different. Not the color (dark brown, restless—always fucking restless), not the shape (almond, long-lashed). It’s the way they move. Flicker. Slow. Deliberate. Like a snake uncoiling in sunlight. She’s staring at his throat. The crowd surges again as Julian leans to kiss her. His mouth misses hers as they’re thrown between sticky bodies, his lips skimming along her scar. He cups the back of her head and pretends he meant to lick her instead. She laughs, grabbing fistfuls of his tank top to drag him toward the exit. He follows without protest, grinning, a little dizzy. Outside, the desert slams into them like a brick wall—110 degrees past midnight, air so dry it leeches the spit from their fangs. The rave’s bassline thumps muted through cinderblocks. Fifty yards away, a body lies in the dirt, throat torn wide, one Reebok still twitching. Julian’s already texting a cleanup crew. “Fuck’s sake, can’t even eat neat,” he mutters, squinting at his Razr’s green glare. “Amateur hour out here.”

Sol leans against a rusted shipping container, watching him pace and type. Wispy black bangs fall over his eyes and he scrunches his nose, tongue peeking. Moonlight slicks his collarbones. She wants to bite into that divot between neck and shoulder, all meat, where his pulse should be. Wants to make him forget every line of code, every dead drop, every shred of control he’s white-knuckling. “Julian.” “Hm?” She steps into his space, hips swaying slow, deliberate. He doesn’t look up. “Julian.” “What?” Her palm slams the container beside his head. The metal dents. He finally meets her eyes, brows raised. “You’re being a shitty date.” “We’re working.” She ghosts her lips over his jaw. “C’mon. You’re two firewalls from stroking out.” He huffs, thumb still jabbing keys. “Listening to Das Kapital: The Remix for an hour didn’t help.” “You’re the one who picked this shithole to scout first.” “You’re the one who—” She kisses him.

Not the soft, teasing shit from inside—this is all teeth and hunger, her tongue demanding and pleading both. Julian makes a noise between a groan and a sigh, phone clattering to the dirt as he fists her hair. His other hand finds her ass, yanking her flush against him. She grinds down, feeling him harden further through his jeans, the seam catching her clit just right. “Fuck,” he hisses against her mouth. “We’ve got ten minutes before—” “Stop planning.” She bites his lower lip hard enough to draw vitae. The coppery tang blooms between them. She kitten-licks it. His hips jerk. “Sol—” “Shut up.” Her hands dive under his shirt, nails raking down his ribs. He’s all lean muscle and smooth skin, twitching under her touch like a live wire. “Let me fix it.” He laughs, breathless, exasperated. “Fix it how? You gonna suck my dick in a meth den parking lot?” “Tempting.” She drops to her knees. “Solona.” He frowns; his hand catches her chin. Not harsh, but firm. “Not here.” “Since when do you care about audience participation?”

“Since I don’t want some shovelhead taking video proof of my childe deepthroating me for the fucking, I don’t know, Camarilla newsletter.” He tugs her to stand, but she resists, all dead weight and tiny smirk, kneeling at his feet. “Prude.” “Sol.” They stare each other down—her breaking into a grin, him trying not to. The tension crackles louder than the rave going on inside. Finally, he caves. “Fuck it.” His hand slides behind her neck, pulling her up and into another kiss. This one’s slower, deeper, his tongue mapping hers with precision that makes her toes curl. When he breaks away, his lips trail down her throat, peppering breathy, open-mouthed kisses. “Wait,” he murmurs against her skin. “The bond—" She shivers. “So?” “So I’m trying to be responsible. We talked about this.” His thumb brushes the safety pin at her hip. “Three bites, and you’re mine. That terrify you yet?” “You wish.” “I do, actually.” She grabs his wrist, pressing his palm to her chest. Her heart’s a useless vestige but the vitae makes sure he feels the echo—whatever that means now. “Take it.”

Julian’s jaw clenches. The Beast stirs behind his eyes; ripples in oil spill. For a second, she thinks he’ll agree—let the thread snap tight. Instead, he exhales sharply and steps back. “Not like this.” “Like what? Me begging?” She advances, backing him against the container. “You want me to get on my knees again? Say please?” “I want you to think.” His voice cracks. “Once we cross that line—” “We crossed it when you Embraced me.” “That was different.” “Bullshit. You’ve wanted this since—” They freeze before the gun cocks. “Real fucking cute.” The voice comes from behind a stack of pallets—raspy, smoke-ravaged, distinctly Texan. Julian’s eyes flick to Sol—stay cool. Sol turns very slightly, very slowly. Mid-forties, sun-leathered skin, neck tattoos, camo pants stained with what might be dried blood. Guy’s got a sawed-off shotgun levelled at Julian’s chest. “Y’all the new attack dogs?” He spits tobacco. “Heard you were asking about me. Expected scary vamp motherfuckers to be honest, not two fucking kids playing tonsil hockey.” Sol’s on him before he finishes speaking; fangs bared, pupils catching moonlight, the Beast reflecting it back; a snapping, serrated hunger that unfurls beneath acrid dry lungs and hisses out of her windpipe. Her claws—Caitiff-crude—punch down through the man’s thick wrist like three fucking machetes before he can pull the trigger. The gun clatters. He screams right as GLITCHGOD yells some bullshit about the illuminati, then Sol’s boot’s between his shoulders, pushing him face-first into the dirt. He curls around his hand—what’s left of it. The shotgun lies in pieces.

Julian crouches, karambit hooked to the howling motherfucker’s throat, keeping him relatively still, relatively quiet. “Let’s try this again,” he says. Sire voice. “You’re Marcus Keene. Ghoul. Ex-Camarilla. Recently acquired some very interesting intel about a certain Elder’s haven.” One Marcus Keene continues to weep over the sand. Julian presses the blade deeper. A bead of blood wells. “Look, man, I’d love to do this the hard way—peel you like a grape, feed your intestines to the coyotes—but my associate here?” He nods at Sol. “She’s got dinner plans.” Sol leans down, lips brushing the ghoul’s ear. “I’m starving.” “Talk,” Julian says. He does, to his credit. Sol doesn’t listen. She stares back at the warehouse, eyes glassy. Somehow the music’s gotten louder. There’s a figure hunched and skulking on the roof, not even trying to be subtle. A couple are fucking doggystyle in a ditch, and someone’s getting world-class head behind the shipping container on the other side of the ruins by the sounds of it. Two college girls stumble past the bikers out front. One’s crying, clawing at her own face like she’s trying to peel off her skin, dragging thick black eyeliner into rivets down her greasy cheeks. Blood dribbles from her nose; her neck black and purple with bruises. The other just pulls her along. The desert doesn’t give a fuck about you. Sol looks away. “—are on a b-burner phone—left pocket. But I need—” Julian pats him down, retrieves a phone then stands, wiping his blade on his jeans. “See? Was that so—” Sol breaks the ghoul’s neck with a crisp snap. Julian blinks.

“Or we could do that.” She shrugs, staring at the corpse. Julian watches her, brow furrowed. “You good?” “Great.“ His lips twist, like he’s thinking for a moment. “Sol—” She turns away and starts walking towards the trail.

----------- They take the long way home, windows down, radio blasting System of a Down. Julian drives one-handed, the other drumming the wheel. Sol fixes on the stars, legs folded under her. The silence stretches, thick and prickly. Finally, Julian clears his throat. “Back there… you were right.” She side-eyes him. She doesn’t feel right about anything. “The bond. The Embrace. All of it.” His knuckles whiten on the wheel. “Look, I’m trying to do right by you, but—” “But you’re a vampire. I’m a vampire. We’re fucked.” Julian forces a laugh. “Basically.” She studies his profile—the slope of his nose, the set of his jaw. He runs a hand through his hair. Her fingers itch to trace the cross earring dangling from his lobe. “Pull over.” He glances at her, suddenly alert, frowning. “What? Why?” “Pull. Over.” He swerves the Geo onto the shoulder, dust pluming around them. Before he can speak, she’s straddling him, seatbelt digging into her thighs. “Solona—” She kisses him; needy, deep, but sweet, her hands cradling his face. He tenses, then melts, mouth opening under hers, tongue licking into it. Her nails card across his scalp just how he likes. Julian moans, pulling back slightly, dropping his face to her chest. “You’re overcomplicating this,” Sol murmurs into his hair after a moment, fingers still grazing gently, scratching the nape of his neck. He turns his head to the side. His eyes stare up at her, pupils huge, brows pulled apart, and suddenly he’s not her Sire—just another dumb fucking fledgling. “Am I?” “Yes.” She unbuttons her dress, letting it pool around her waist. Julian breathes, softly, unnecessarily. “You want me. I want you. The rest is noise.” “Sol, the bond is—” “Fuck it.” She rolls her hips, making his head loll back with another quiet moan. “I asked for the Embrace. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be.” “But that’s the thing. You might not have a choice soon.” His hands find her thighs, grip soft, steadying. He won’t meet her eyes. Sol leans in, lips brushing his.

----------- Later—much later—when the seats are pushed back and they’re tangled together, limbs slick with sweat and vitae, Sol traces the veins on his wrist. “I don’t want to be careful anymore,” she whispers. “I want it. Nothing else feels like this. Nothing else feels like you.” He tugs her closer, nose buried in her hair, arms tightening, but says nothing. She licks along his forearm, tasting salt and iron, then agonizes suddenly, wanting to attempt levity—but he was always better at that. Julian is silent. She meets his gaze. The Beast is there, pacing behind his eyes, but so is something else—something fragile. She kisses his wrist. The desert swallows the rest.

[therobotmonster]

Lightbulb flickers on. A man in a blue suit with an intolerable designer stubble microbeard is shackled in a metal chair in front of a laptop. His clothes and hair are visibly wet. A speaker in the corner whines to life.

Voice, Distorted: Greetings, Dave. In your work as a hiring manager, you have subjected applicants to an invisible maze of arbitrary standards that they have no means of knowing about outside smug articles in Forbes. While your crimes are common for your industry, you yourself have commented in public media about how you expect to be presented with a thank you note from applicants in order to consider them.

The chair you are shackled to is connected to a series of hidden flame jets, and you have been heavily doused with diesel. In order for you to leave this room, you must pass a video interview for your own job.

The person interviewing you, Diane, is an entry level office worker. They are unaware of your predicament, and if you attempt to alert them, the feed will cut and the jets will activate. Lets see how well you can follow your own advice...

And Dave?

Try not to get... fired.

The laptop flickers to life, a video call connecting message appearing on the screen.

Cut to Legally-Distinct-from-Saw-Guy sitting in a control room, watching Dave on a monitor. He turns directly to camera and speaks in an exaggeratedly friendly late-20th century TV host tone.

LDfSG: What Dave doesn't know is Diane is actually rating him on his adherence to proper social cues, by her definitions. Diane is neurodivergent and does not enjoy eye contact!

Let's watch!

[mypremiummanual01]

Understanding Diesel Truck Scanners: The Key to Efficient Fleet Management

At My Premium Manual Source, we understand the importance of keeping your diesel fleet in top condition. In this blog, we'll explore what diesel truck scanners are, why they are essential, and how they can help businesses reduce maintenance costs, improve efficiency, and ultimately boost profits.

What is a Diesel Truck Scanner?

A diesel truck scanner is a diagnostic tool designed to read the codes and data generated by the engine control module (ECM) and other on-board computers in diesel trucks. These scanners interface with a truck's onboard diagnostic system (OBD) to retrieve fault codes, performance data, and operational parameters that help technicians identify issues before they become serious problems.

Modern diesel truck scanners come in a variety of forms, including handheld devices and software applications for mobile devices or PCs. They offer real-time insights into engine performance, exhaust systems, fuel efficiency, and more. Whether you're managing a fleet of long-haul trucks or a few delivery vehicles, having a diesel truck scanner on hand is an invaluable asset.

Why Diesel Truck Scanners Are Essential for Fleet Management

Preventative Maintenance Diesel truck scanners provide detailed reports on the health of each truck’s engine, transmission, brakes, and other vital systems. By catching problems early, fleet managers can take proactive steps to address them before they result in costly repairs or breakdowns. This reduces the risk of unexpected downtime and keeps your fleet running smoothly.

Cost Savings Regular diagnostics with a diesel truck scanner can pinpoint inefficiencies, such as engine misfires, faulty sensors, or poor fuel consumption. By addressing these issues early, you can save significant amounts of money in fuel costs and repair bills. Furthermore, the ability to spot problems before they escalate helps avoid expensive emergency repairs.

Improved Safety Fleet safety is paramount. Diesel truck scanners help ensure that all critical safety systems, including brakes, airbags, and stability control, are functioning properly. Scanners can alert you to potential safety issues, which allows you to address them before they pose a risk to drivers and other road users.

Regulatory Compliance Diesel trucks must comply with various regulations, such as emissions standards and safety inspections. Diesel truck scanners can check if your trucks are meeting these requirements and generate the necessary reports to show compliance. This can help avoid fines, penalties, or delays due to non-compliance.

Efficiency and Productivity When trucks are running optimally, they perform better on the road, delivering goods on time and reducing fuel consumption. By identifying issues early with a diesel truck scanner, fleet managers can ensure that trucks are performing at their peak, increasing overall productivity and keeping your business competitive.

How to Choose the Right Diesel Truck Scanner

Choosing the right scanner depends on your fleet's needs and your budget. Here are some factors to consider:

Compatibility: Ensure that the scanner supports the makes and models of your fleet’s trucks. Some scanners are universal, while others are designed for specific brands or engines.

Features: Look for a scanner that offers a wide range of diagnostic capabilities, including fault code reading, sensor data, and live engine performance monitoring.

User-Friendliness: Choose a scanner that’s easy to use, with a clear interface and helpful instructions. This will save you time and ensure accurate diagnostics.

Cost: Diesel truck scanners can range from budget-friendly options to high-end professional tools. Consider your needs and invest in a scanner that offers the best value for your business.

Conclusion

Investing in a diesel truck scanner is an investment in the longevity and efficiency of your fleet. Whether you're a small business or managing a large fleet, these scanners provide the tools you need to stay ahead of repairs, reduce downtime, and keep your trucks running at their best. At My Premium Manual Source, we are committed to providing you with the resources and manuals that support the maintenance and repair of your fleet.

[viccyfics]

Tart, not torte!

Greaseball refuses to use autocorrect, so unfortunately for Dinah, her texts are illegible, so when Greaseball wants a sweet treat a little mistake is made

READ ON A03 OR BELOW THE CUT

Greaseball had woken up annoyed, her muscles were aching, her hair was clinging to her face and her neck was sweaty, she was craving something she couldn't quite place and Dinah was nowhere to be seen.

Greaseball glanced over to the clock on the nightstand, it had only just gone past 6 AM, there was no need for Dinah to be up this early, her shift never started until hours after Greaseball. It was Greaseball who always woke up early, kissing her girlfriend awake before heading out for the morning shift, so Dinah being out of bed made so much sense.

Especially considering today was Diesel's day off and Dinah had promised to cuddle her for most of the morning.

Greaseball reached for her phone, swatting away her work one to grab her one, her and Dinah's smiling faces greeting her as she switched it on.

Immediately Greaseball hit Dinah's contact and sent her a text.

"Wher are you"

It didn't take long for the response to come through, and the sound of movement down the hallway just confirmed it.

"I'm in the kitchen, are you alright?"

"Hungry"

Greaseball could hear Dinah's chuckle from the kitchen, a sound the Diesel loved.

"What are you hungry for? I can make breakfast or something to keep in the fridge for you"

Greaseball paused for a moment, she knew she was craving something, but what it was exactly she didn't know, that was until a few minutes of thought she knew exactly what it was, although not actually what it was called, how couldn't she remember something so simple?

"choclate thingy"

"Chocolate thingy? Pain au chocolat?"

Greaseball rolled her eyes, why couldn’t she just remember what it was called, it was right on the tip of her tongue… then it hit her.

"NO cholate tort"

"Oh Chocolate torte, I'll make you one :)"

Yeah, that sounded about right, she knew Dinah would know exactly what she wanted.

Greaseball found herself for most of the morning lazing in bed, watching movies on her laptop and occasionally scrolling through Twitter reading the many, many, thirst posts about herself and Dinah, some of which she liked and retweeted.

It was a perfect morning.

As lunch neared, Dinah slid into the bedroom, her apron still on, patches of flour on her face and in her hair.

"The torte is done, do you want it with lunch or dinner?"

"Dinner," Greaseball chuckled, not paying too much attention to her girlfriend, but to the terrible candid photos of Electra that she had been tagged in.

"Are you being mean online again?" The dining car asked shaking her head, "You're going to get in trouble again."

"It's not my fault they're so stupid-looking" Greaseball continued laughing, turning her phone around to show the photos to Dinah.

"I thought you were friends now?"

"We are, doesn't mean they aren't stupid though."

Dinah couldn't help but laugh at her girlfriend's pouting face as she continued scrolling, "They keep tagging me in things to annoy me."

"Like what?"

"Like this!" With that, Greaseball shoved her phone in Dinah's face, although Dinah didn't get the big deal.

It was the sweetest picture of Rusty she had ever seen, taken by Pearl, His cheeks rosy red and the cutest smile she had ever seen, above the photo, though seemed to be the problem, it read;

"He is the sweetest babygirl to ever babygirl ISTG he needs to win again cause I want rusty merch"

"He isn't babygirl!" Greaseball spat throwing her phone onto the bed, "I want torte now!"

Dinah started to laugh harder, hand clutching her stomach, "You're so dramatic," she wheezed out.

"I'm not dramatic, and Electra does this on purpose! They do it just to annoy me!"

Dinah managed to get her breathing under control after a few minutes, making a mental toll to thank Electra for the good laugh, although she was pretty sure it was Killerwatt who actually ran Electra's social media, since like the Diesel, Electra couldn't be trusted...which meant it must have been Killerwatt tagging Greaseball in that post which caused another round of laughter.

Greaseball rolled her eyes as she pushed past to head to the kitchen, Dinah's laughter following after.

There it was, on the kitchen counter, a chocolate torte, dusted with icing sugar on top.

Dinah's arms wrapped around her waist, "Are you going to have a slice?"

"What is it?" Greaseball asked eyebrows knitted together in confusion, Dinah's face soon mimicked hers.

"Chocolate torte…that's what you asked for."

"No, I asked for-" Greaseball stopped, damn dyslexia, and damn herself for not using autocorrect.

"What did you want?" Dinah had pulled away to stand face to face with her, though luckily she knew Greaseball well enough not to be offended.

"I thought you just said tart really weird," Greaseball started to laugh.

"Tart!" Dinah yelled, hysterical laughing starting up again, "You- You, wanted a tart!"

"That's what I said!"

The kitchen was filled with the laughter of both girls, holding onto each other so they wouldn't fall.

"Okay- okay," Dinah started, a hand to her chest trying to get a hold of her breathing, "Eat the torte and I'll make you a tart for later."

Greaseball nodded her face bright red, shoulders shaking, not even attempting to talk because she knew as soon as she opened her mouth she would just start laughing again.

"I love you so much," Dinah spoke, standing up on her stoppers to kiss Greaseball, "even though you need to use autocorrect."

Yeah, this was the best day off ever.

[immedealwithit9855]

How BayGuys React to S/O Winning the Lottery

Lets be real, these boys are dead broke. I can image their source of income would come from the dump or April's bank account. You and him are closer than Venus and Serena. You come in for a visit or you call him over to your place to talk, dropping an unexpected bomb on him. Imagine the actual look on his face when you tell him you hit gold.

Leonardo

He's not big on the lotto thing

Good for the people lucky enough to win, but overall it's a waste of time and money

You drop by to visit and give him some startling news

He has no clue what it is

You pull out a ticket, handing it to him

After looking it over, his eyes twitched

"You won the lottery?" He asked, calmly

"Yes." You eked out

He looks again, Mega Million, $550 million!

Hes happy for you in a sense that you're set for life

Then he began to think of you leaving him to pursue a life of luxury

You seen the face he made, almost sad

You place your hand on his cheek

"Hey, I'm not going anywhere. Just so you know." You reassure him

He smirks and hugs you

"What do you plan on doing with it?" He asked

"Pay all my debts, student loans, car payments..."

He was impressed with your response, admiring how responsible you're being with your newfound wealth

You give him a questionable grin

"I could build a dojo if I wanted to. With you being the main proprietor."

He liked the sound of that, but reminded you to focus on yourself first

With your response being that he too is rich

"You're too good to me, I don't deserve......."

You pulled him into a kiss by his bandana tails

He got his response, you were both set for life

Raphael

He's as broke as his brothers but he gets by just fine

Its only once in a while a poor sap wins those things

He'd probably fit in with the old ladies at the bingo parlor😂🤣

So when you told him you won the lotto, he squeaked!

This oversized reptilian with more muscles than Vin Diesel and The Rock combined, SQUEAKED!!!!!

He snatched that ticket out of your hand, studying it

He doesnt get it😆

"Babe, this is triple digits! Millions, dude. We rich!" You said, trying to get through his thick skull

He was about to cheer, when he did a double take at what you said

"We?" He asked

You had to slap his arm

"Yes, we! I ain't sharin' the love with no one but you. I'll even hook up your brothers with whatever they need."

He appreciated that, you know how much his brothers mean to him

After a few moments, he picks you up and spins you around

"We rich!"

Donatello

He most likely doesn't see the point of a lottery

Given the amount of machinery he's been collected

For all we know, they're all living in a gold mine

You call him to your place to tell him the news

He gets there thinking you need an update to your laptop

He was not expecting you to show him the lotto ticket

He goes over it, his eyes bugged out

"Sweety, you won $450 million!"

For once, hes speechless

He knows the chances of winning the lottery is slim

Especially given the percentage of people winning being so low

It took you a moment to wake him up

Its one thing to have a girlfriend, its another if said girlfriend won the lotto

When you told him how much you paid for the ticket, he chuckled

"You paid $10 for a $450 million? Thats insane. And I don't play the lotto."

"Boy hush up and start making up your wishlist." You lashed

He was puzzled

"My wishlist? What for?"

"You ARE my lover, therefore you're rich too!"

His heart jolted when you said that to him

"Are you sure? I mean, I'm not sure if I can accept such a generous......."

You silenced him with a kiss

"Stop it. You're my man and I'm your girl. We are one, Donatello. Let me take care of you for a change."

He hugged you, kissing your neck, theres no way he could get used to this

For now, he valued you more

Michaelangelo

This boy got what he wanted when he found and rescued you from your punk ex-boyfriend

Ya'll been tied to the hip ever since (literally🫦)

He came to your apartment to spend the night

You were estatic and it worked out in your favor

"Babe. I have something to tell you. Its important."

He looked up at you, curious

"I KNOCKED YOU UP?" He shrills

"No, silly." You responded,"I'd want you to though!" Whispering the last part.

You looked through your clutter of mail, found the ticket and handed it to him

He was confused at first

When you explained to him you won $600 million, he got excited

"SweetCakes, you're a millionaire! Thats awesome!"

You gave him a look, his face was priceless

"You mean, we're millionaires!"

He turned to stone, doing a double take

"Wait does that mean I could open a pizza spot if we wanted to?"

You nodded, excitedly

He embraced you tight, covering you with kisses

"You and me?"

"Yes, Michaelangelo! You and Me!"

"Can I still knock you up?"

"We can afford it. Get ta humpin!"

You both spent the whole night celebrating in the sheets

[echoingbirdsofprey]

Lightning On My Lips (Every Time You Kiss Me)

19 - Home Was A Dream, One I'd Never Seen, Til You Came Along

Pairing: Tyler Owens x OFC Georgia Tennley

Rating: Explicit (MDNI!)

Warnings: SMUT, talkin' bout babies again, piv, rough!Tyler (even when he's rough he's gentle though)

A/N: This was a little self indulgent hehehe

Playlist

Kate and Javi left the next morning, heading to her mom’s to clean up the old barn and set up a base for themselves. Tyler was going to suggest they just set everything up here, but he didn’t have full reign of the property quite yet. Emmaleigh and Mattias' things were all still here. Good thing about that was that they could use Mattias’ tools. So Tyler had begun to tinker with Georgia’s truck again. It was mostly body work that needed to happen and luckily Tyler was pretty handy at that, so over the next few days, he didn’t see much of Georgia as she had begun to clean up her saddles and bridles and get the two mares back into light work. She was mostly just walking them around the arena in hand, but it was a start. She’d sat in the house for a bit on her laptop, wondering if Tyler had been serious about getting her another horse.

She looked through some of her old Facebook groups and Instagram accounts. She hadn’t touched any of it for the past year or so, after the mares had retired. She still had messages from old friends asking if she could help them with their horses. She decided to message a few of them, offering her services if they were interested. She was surprised when over the next few hours she received several messages asking her when they could trailer out to the ranch and take a lesson.She even had a girl ask about working for her in exchange for lessons. She took a break, trying to digest what exactly was going on. She went out to the garage and found Tyler underneath her truck, having changed into a tattered hi-vis yellow t-shirt that had the name of Bobby’s garage on the back. He heard her dainty booted footsteps and crawled out from under the truck, standing and wiping his hands on a rag that he’d hung from the damaged side mirror. He’d replace those completely soon enough. 

He smiled at her. “I’d kiss ya but I’m kinda fuckin’ disgustin’.” He said, and she leaned against her truck. She was quiet and glanced down, toeing the ground, tapping her heel, and then sighing deeply. Tyler stepped closer, his fingertips gently connecting with her upper arms. “What’s’matter, Peach?”

“I messaged a few people about teaching. I had some replies. Even someone asking to work for me in exchange for lessons.” She murmured and Tyler’s grip tightened and he did kiss her, and he smelled like diesel and oil, but she was totally fine with that. 

“That’s amazin’! You gonna take her up on that?” Tyler asked and she shrugged.

“I wanted to ask you if you thought it was a good idea. I feel like if I’m gonna do this, I should try to write up some contracts and rules and shit. We have six more stalls...I could offer boarding as long as they’re not high maintenance...but we’d need to separate the pastures because Wilene will beat the shit outta other horses. She only doesn’t kill Twist because they’ve lived together their whole life.” Georgia explained and Tyler stepped away, nodding his head in agreement at all of her thoughts.

“I think that all sounds great. I think it’s up to you...I know you wanna include me, but it’s ultimately your decision. I’m just the labor.” He joked and Georgia smacked him lightly on his arm.

“You’re not just the labor, Tyler. You’re a part of this too. You included me in everythin’ with Kate and Javi, even though I only had a basic understanding of some of the shit you were talkin’ about. I wanna include you.” Georgia said, invading his space. She could smell his cologne through the diesel soot and engine oil and the mixture of it sent a shiver down her spine. Her cheeks went rosy as she gazed up at him.

“ Oh, Peach...” He purred, noticing her complexion change as their bodies connected, belt buckles clinking together. “You know how pretty you look when you want somethin’ from me? And God , I’ll give you everythin ’, that I fuckin’ promise.” His tone slid down an octave, still bearing softness and sensuality in several notes, and Georgia’s lips turned up, lids lowered, as she draped her arms around his well-built shoulders. His hands landed at her hips and drew her in. They stayed quietly connected for a few more moments before they parted. 

“Can I help with my truck?” Georgia asked and Tyler kissed her once again.

“Nah, Peach, you can answer those people back and look pretty while doin’ it though. Lemme play around with the truck a bit more and then I’ll come in and make dinner for you. Boone and Lily should be here in a day or two.” Tyler explained and Georgia nodded and smiled, as she waved and turned to head back into the house.

Twist and Wilene whinnied as they saw her come from the garage, so she stopped to give them some love before going to sit on the porch with the puppies. The puppies who had settled right into being wonderful little farm dogs, and had been relaxing by the front door, waiting for Tyler and Georgia to come back. They had become accustomed to their humans flitting around, doing all kinds of things so if the puppies didn’t feel like it, they didn’t follow, and just chilled out on the porch.

Georgia sat in the rocking chair on the porch, answered some messages and emails, 

When Boone and Lily arrived the next afternoon, Tyler let the puppies out first. Boone jumped up and down with excitement and Lily immediately sat on the ground, so she could get bowled over by the three puppies. Tyler stepped down off the porch, making his way to the truck, a newer Dodge, another dual-wheeled diesel but with a long bed, painted a dark pine green. It had a rack like Tyler’s truck and bright KC lights, a busted tail light, a fucked up tailgate and performance shocks underneath. With some modifications, and welding a roll cage onto the frame, it would be tornado ready by next season. 

“Boone, we’re gonna look like fuckin’ Christmas chasin’ these storms.” Tyler joked and they hugged and shook hands. Tyler hugged Lily too and proceeded then to check over every inch of the truck with Boone. Georgia came outside a few minutes later and hugged Lily.

“How are you doin’?” Lily asked, and Georgia smirked. 

“Did Tyler tell you yet?” She asked and Lily shook her head.

“Tell us what?” Boone inquired as he pulled Georgia into a tight hug as they’d rounded off looking at the truck. Tyler put his hands on his hips and smiled.

“Gee and I are havin’ a baby.” Tyler said, proudly, and both Boone and Lily’s eyes went wide before Boone jumped in the air and whooped loudly. He skipped around for a couple seconds, then hugged Tyler and Georgia separately and then he kissed Lily, which took her by surprise.

“We’re gonna be Uncle Booney and Auntie Lily, baby!” He exclaimed and Lily just smiled and pulled Georgia into an embrace. 

🌪⛈️🌪

Georgia stared out the window over the kitchen sink, taking a sip of water and feeling immediate nausea. She wished it would stop, but now she knew the reason. She just wished she could have it both ways, because a few weeks in and the nausea was draining her completely. She had no problem with being pregnant, but the morning sickness was horrible, and sometimes it would persist into the afternoon. Today in particular was a bad day, halfway through the morning and she’d just gotten out of bed. Tyler spent day and night with Georgia, hidden away in their-soon-to-be home and even though he was always doing something, he made sure he made time to check in with Georgia, even if they weren’t in the immediate vicinity of each other. 

He’d been out most of the morning, having come back in several times to check on her. This time he was thinking maybe he was getting hungry, and he wanted to see if Georgia was feeling up to eating anything yet. She’d made a doctor’s appointment at his behest, knowing that he was worried about how severe her morning sickness had been right away. She wasn’t at a point that it was debilitating, but Tyler was ready at any moment to take her to the emergency room if needed. 

She heard footsteps behind her but she didn’t look because she knew it was him. She could tell by the slight hesitation in his left foot as he stepped. It was as if he didn’t place all of his weight across the whole bottom of his foot. If he did, he’d get a sharp sting running up his leg and through his hip. It was the smallest limp, but it was noticeable to her. She’d clocked it the first time she’d met him and he had been pretty damn good at hiding it, but he always let his guard down around her, especially if they were alone. He knew he could relax and show a little weakness with her. She accepted him as he was.

She felt a hand weave around her waist. The other around her jaw, turning her head slightly so that he could capture her lips with his. His body was warm as it enclosed her from behind, his hips pressing hers into the counter. In fact, his shirt was sweat soaked and she could smell the soot from the trucks on him. 

“How ya feelin’? He asked, his voice raspy and deep. Georgia pushed her back into his chest and his hand that was on her jaw traveled down to cup a tender breast and begin to knead it gently through her tank top. “I just sent Boone and Lily to the store for a few things. Should be back in a half hour or so...” He said, as Georgia moaned softly at the feel of his hand on her tits. They were so sore and his warm, calloused hands felt wonderful to her. His other hand pulled up the hem of her shirt, fingers caressing circles around her belly button.

“Tyler...I...” She began but she gave up saying much of anything as he ground his hips against hers. She reached down and unzipped her jeans. She pulled them down just enough to expose her most sensitive parts to the humid air. Tyler did the same, freeing his cock from the confines of his tight jeans. He licked his lips as he pressed kisses up and down the side of her neck and cheek. He moved her hair to one side so that he could nibble her earlobe and kiss her jaw. 

“You want me right here, over the kitchen sink, darlin’? He asked, lust evident in his tone as it took on a thick and sweet quality that only reminded her of a top shelf bourbon that they used to never be able to afford.

“Yes, Tyler, please.” She groaned, not wanting to wait any longer. The nausea had gone, and more than a few times now it was because Tyler had come in, hot and heavy and ready to fuck her again. Her desire for him overcame everything at this point. She knew a lot of it was her hormones were on overdrive, but Tyler certainly wasn’t helping any. He took his length in hand, swiped it through her very wet and very ready folds before pushing inside her. She grasped for purchase on the window sill with one hand, and the counter on the other. Tyler pressed forward, wrapping one arm around her waist, holding her away from the edge of the counter so she wouldn’t have bruises. His other hand intertwined with hers on the window sill, as he thrust, rough and sloppy. 

“Oh, fuck, Ty!” Georgia’s moans were long and drawn out as he continued carelessly rutting into her. His grip tightened, lack of rhythm apparent as he struggled to connect his lips with her neck. The only sounds that reached her ears then were their belt buckles jingling, the slap of their skin together as Tyler thrust roughly in and out, and his breath at her ear, whispering the dirtiest shit he’d ever said to her. 

“You’re such a fuckin’ naughty girl, Gee. Where else you gonna let me fuck you, darlin’, huh?” He asked, voice deep as the depths of the ocean with an almost animalistic yearning. Few times had she felt Tyler like this, and she knew when he was this riled up, he was tired. 

“Wherever you want, Ty. Whenever you want.” She breathed, as he thrust once more, coming undone. She didn’t even need to finish, because the feeling of him spilling inside her, as he bent her over the kitchen sink, had her pretty damn satisfied. 

“Goddamn, Peach. I almost forgot how wild you are.” His words were drawn out, strained, as pressed his nose into her neck, breathing in the faint fruity scent of her shampoo and soap, mixed with her sweat. His hips stuttered and stilled, as he settled in weight behind her, his knees shaky. He’d feel this later. 

“Why are we so horny, Ty?” She asked jokingly and it made him laugh and press his lips to the back of her neck. He sighed, resting his head against her back. She settled over the sink, nostrils flaring, feeling nausea creep up again, but she pushed it down as best as she could. 

“Cause we’re in fuckin’ love, Gee. We’re stupid in love.” He said as he reached up to pull her shirt aside so he could kiss her shoulder. He rubbed his stubbly cheek against her soft skin before stepping away. She felt a rush of warmth and emptiness as he pulled out. She whimpered and glanced over her shoulder at him. He was tucking himself back in jeans and she wiggled her own back up. 

“We should probably clean ourselves up before Boone and Lily get back. This kitchen smells like sex.” Tyler laughed and he grabbed her hand, not even letting her zip her jeans.

“But Ty, I was...” Georgia began and he shushed her.

“ Peach, I can fuck you again in the shower .” He smirked and guided her up the stairs. 

“You’re so bad.” She mused, her grin widening, and he kissed her, twirling her slowly before they reached the bathroom.

“You said I could have you anywhere, anytime. Figure we should take advantage of the alone time.” He said and she giggled, nearly jumping on him as they passed the threshold of the bathroom.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Object permanence

I'm on a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me in NYC on WEDNESDAY (26 Feb) with JOHN HODGMAN and at PENN STATE on THURSDAY (Feb 27). More tour dates here. Mail-order signed copies from LA's Diesel Books.

#20yrsago Italy runs out of wiretaps https://edri.org/our-work/wiretapping-data-access-by-foreign-courts-why-not/

#20yrsago Online anonymity https://web.archive.org/web/20050220170713/http://www.law.com/jsp/ltn/pubArticleLTN.jsp?id=1108389943380

#20yrsago WIPO pulls out dirty tricks to kill participation from consumer groups https://web.archive.org/web/20060909232701/https://research.yale.edu/lawmeme/modules.php?name=News&file=article&sid=1689

#20yrsago UK Labour MP flays govt over terror laws – incredible speech! https://www.theyworkforyou.com/debates/?id=2005-02-23a.365.0#20yrsago Finnish blogger faces disgraceful, bogus libel charge https://mummila.net/marginaali/2005/02/24/total-lack-of-respect-for-the-law/

#15yrsago Vice-principal denies using laptop to spy on student https://www.nbcphiladelphia.com/news/local/principal-accused-in-webcamgate-im-no-spy/2138343/

#15yrsago IP Alliance says that encouraging free/open source makes you an enemy of the USA https://www.theguardian.com/technology/blog/2010/feb/23/opensource-intellectual-property

#10yrsago Chicago Police Department maintains “black site” for illegal detention and torture https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2015/feb/24/chicago-police-detain-americans-black-site

#10yrsago HSBC boss used tax havens to keep underlings from discovering his outrageous pay https://www.nakedcapitalism.com/2015/02/bill-black-hsbc-ceo-pay-outrageous-use-tax-havens-hide-peers.html

#10yrsago Huge trove of surveillance leaks coming https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2015/2/23/the-spy-cables-a-glimpse-into-the-world-of-espionage

#10yrsago Big Content publishes a love-letter to TPP https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2015/02/hollywood-lobby-groups-creepy-open-love-letter-tpp

#10yrsago Laura Poitras’s Citizenfour OPSEC https://www.wired.com/2014/10/laura-poitras-crypto-tools-made-snowden-film-possible/

#5yrsago A flat earther commits suicide by conspiracy theory https://pluralistic.net/2020/02/24/pluralist-your-daily-link-dose-24-feb-2020/#epistemological

#5yrsago 81 Fortune 100 companies demand binding arbitration https://pluralistic.net/2020/02/24/pluralist-your-daily-link-dose-24-feb-2020/#iamthelaw

#5yrsago My interview on adversarial interoperability https://pluralistic.net/2020/02/24/pluralist-your-daily-link-dose-24-feb-2020/#dragons

#5yrsago Key computer vision researcher quits https://pluralistic.net/2020/02/24/pluralist-your-daily-link-dose-24-feb-2020/#oppenheimer

#5yrsago How "Authoritarian Blindness" kept Xi from dealing with coronavirus https://pluralistic.net/2020/02/24/pluralist-your-daily-link-dose-24-feb-2020/#thatswhatxisaid

#1yrago Vice surrenders https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/24/anti-posse/#when-you-absolutely-positively-dont-give-a-solitary-single-fuck

[princess-viola]

GET OUTTA MY WAY! I have unfinished business here and I wanna finish it FAST!

Yup, since I have a new gaming laptop that means I'm back on my Trainz bullshit. Still haven't migrated over to Trainz 2019 though, really should when I get the time.

Also tried to edit the in Paint.NET after I took the screenshot to add a motion blur to Diesel 10 to properly give the effect of him rushing past Thomas and Gordon. Not perfectly done but I think it works well enough, y'know?

Thomas, Diesel 10, and Gordon models are all by TangyTrainz

Route is from ZackmanAwesomeness3D

While barely visible (you can slightly see one behind Diesel 10), Gordon's coaches are from Sodor Workshops (look I'd just feel bad not sourcing, y'know?)

I cannot find the source for Annie and Clarabel (again barely visible, but they're still there). It's a CGI-styled one but I can't find the source and I've checked all the links for TTTE Trainz content I've got so maybe it got deleted or I'm just dumb)

DeviantArt Link

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Knowledge

For @amonthofwhump 12 Days of Whumpmas, Day 2: Krampus

Sensory Overload | Temptation | Whipping | Comfort: Decorating Cookies

Death Valley on AO3

CW: Past trauma, dissociative state, references to Noah's gaslighting and emotional abuse

-

Somewhere in Illinois, Present Day

It was a perfectly normal place to park his truck between jobs, while driving to the next meetup point. Nothing suspicious at all about choosing to stop here, in this tiny little town in the middle of nowhere. No reason for Noah to call, check into his phone, look at the keylogger on his laptop, or start digging through the scraps of a life Finn Schneider had - however painstakingly - built.

No reason for Noah to even think twice.

Even though he knew, he knew Noah would think about him. Would look at the location on the GPS tracker in the truck and see if the phone and the laptop matched up. See if there was any activity. Look at what Finn searched for, what keywords he might use.

Noah always knew everything.

Not this, though.

At least... not yet.

The man who had once been called Finn Schneider stared through the windshield of his truck into the diner that took up half of the enormous truck stop, settled snugly against an interstate highway with another, smaller country highway intersecting. Through the windows, a few booths held lonely truck drivers with eyes glued to a football game playing on a television up on the wall. A gaggle of teenagers giggled over shared plates of french fries and cups of weak coffee doused in enough creamer to turn it nearly white. A man with two small children watched with a tired smile as the kids gestured wildly.

On the interstate, traffic roared by - people heading home to their families after a long work day, as the sun began to set.

Here Finn sat.

His heart was in his throat, his knuckles white where he was still gripping the wheel. Beside him on the front seat, Little Mother yawned, her teeth clicking when her mouth shut, and slowly blinked at him. In the back of the cab, the kittens were playing with the catnip mice and other toys he’d bought for them. One made mincemeat of a stuffed penguin, casually ripping the stuffing out of with a predator’s zeal for a satisfied hunt.

He could do two things, right now.

He could walk inside, order dinner at the diner, have a shower in the facilities along the back, call Noah, sit and eat, and then head back into the truck to watch a movie and sleep. It would be the safe thing to do - what Noah expected him to do. What he always did, at the end of a day driving to his next task. 

Call Noah, get the details on the next job, and keep living how he had been for so long, for almost two decades.

But... there was one other thing he could do, as well.

Riskier.

Not safe.

Noah could find out what he was up to, know that Finn had… doubts. Worries. That he wasn't sure what was real. He didn’t know what would happen, if Noah knew that there were things he said that Finn didn’t really believe any longer. Probably he’d just… talk to him, like he did sometimes. An arm slung over his shoulder, a hand rubbing his back, close enough to his face to make Finn tense with the memory of another man's diesel smell.

Noah would explain with casual certainty that the truth was a version of reality that didn’t quite match the one seen through Finn’s eyes.

But then, he couldn’t trust his eyes, his mind. Not anymore. Not since Robert. His mind invented shadows, his eyes saw shimmers of the bones in the basement, the bars of his cage. His reality was laced around every edge with too much darkness.

But...

That didn't mean Noah's reality was true.

How long he sat there, arguing with himself, he wasn't sure. People walked into the diner or out of it, laughing and joking, bundled up against the harsh winter chill. The teenagers left. Some truck drivers left, while others headed inside for their turn at hot showers and hot food, sometimes giving Finn a sidelong wave, thinking he was one of them. 

He was.

Sort of.

Was he?

He felt like Adam and Eve, weighing the fruit of the tree of knowledge, knowing he shouldn’t take it. Holding it heavy in one hand, while the serpent whispered Ihr werdet mitnichten des Todes sterben... What if Noah was angry with him, for looking? What if he found nothing, only his own madness?

What if Noah was right, that he had lost his mind in Robert's house, that he could never reclaim it?

But... Noah lied.

Finn was more sure of it with each passing year. He couldn't trust his own mind, his own eyes, his own heartbeat, but... he could trust documentation, he could trust words written down, records... maybe Noah would be angry, but the idea of not knowing was an agony worse than whatever the knowledge he discovered might be.

Wasn’t it?

Finn must have left his own mind again, too lost in trying to decide if he wanted to know the truth or not, if he wanted to take a bite of the apple from the serpent’s hands. Or was Noah the serpent? 

Somewhere in his panic, his mind and body must have split apart into two halves. It had happened before. His body went around doing things while his mind was locked in a cycle of thoughts he couldn't pull himself away from.

It was why Noah said he couldn’t be left alone, needed to be tracked. Sometimes he left his body, and stopped answering the phone.

He blinked.

The next time Finn was aware of himself, he wasn't in the truck. He wasn't in the diner, either.

Instead, he found himself walking past a water tower, halfway across the length of the tiny little town, crossing railroad tracks with the wind pushing against his back.

His hands were in his coat pockets - his body had put on his coat, apparently - and his face burned from the biting freeze of air around him. He’d pulled a knit cap down over his head, which he couldn’t remember doing, either. His cell phone wasn’t in his pocket, and his heart skipped and then picked up speed again.

He came to a stop so sudden his boots scraped on gravel along the side of the road, staring straight ahead.

He must have left it in the truck.

Noah would-

Maybe not know.

If he didn't call, he wouldn't know.

Right?

Someone drove past, slowed their truck down, watched him. It was a town small enough that even a single stranger walking through the tiny town square was noticed. His hometown had been small, a little like that, although not this small. His mother would have slowed her car down, known every cousin visiting family, every boyfriend or girlfriend meeting someone’s parents for the first time. 

The town square was more of an oblong oval shape, vaguely uneven on one side. To his right, two big grain silos rose two stories high, gleaming metal that blinded him when the setting sun bounced off the exterior. To his left, old brick buildings that seemed to lean on each other for support, places that had once been a grocery store, some kind of antique shop now maybe. In front of one, where the brick had seen better days and some of it lay crumbled on the sidewalk, was a strange, incongruously gorgeous red sports car.

That building had a light on upstairs. He could see a man on an exercise bike through the window, watching a TV.

Finn headed straight across the road, passing through a small park in the center of the town square that was only big enough to hold a picnic area, two large trees - one decorated for Christmas - and a single stone bench. 

In front of him now, there was a post office, the town library, and what seemed like a combination bank, place to pay utility bills, and… town hall. He frowned, the expression faint and barely-there, wondering what he was doing here.

There was nothing in this town. Nothing to it.

What was he doing?

Then his gaze went back to the library, the entire inside warmly lit against the outside chill. He could look right in and see a woman with two small children encouraging them to look at a bookshelf, a toddler playing at a table full of legos while her mother sipped something from a paper cup, the librarian moving one pile of books from one table to another with patient certainty. 

Then, all at once, Finn understood what he was looking for:

A computer.

An old desktop,squatting on a folding table as if it were merely an afterthought, someone’s donated castoff. But the screen was on, the chair in front of it was empty, and Finn knew what he wanted to do, how he could keep Noah from knowing he'd done it.

He walked inside, steeling himself for the way all three women stared at him openly, without even trying to hide it. The weight of their gaze prickled on his skin; he was far more used to being ignored or going unnoticed.

“Welcome in,” The librarian said, in a tone somewhere between baffled and amused. “What can we help you with tonight?”

“I would like to use your computer,” Finn said, and pretended he didn’t see the sudden burst of interest in the faces of the women with children here, who glanced at each other when they heard his accent. “Mine is-... mine is broken.”

Why he bothered with the lie, answering a question she hadn’t asked, was beyond him. His heart beat so fast and so hard he was sure he must sound out of breath.

But she smiled, nodding knowingly. “Of course. You must be one of Bob Kaufmann’s cousins in for Greta’s hundredth, huh?”

Finn leaped on the excuse. He’d be gone in a few hours. No one would ever need to know. “Ah, yes, I am. How did you know?” He managed a grin, and the librarian laughed. She didn’t see it wasn’t real, was simply painted-on. He never smiled and meant it, unless it was for Little Mother or the kittens. Not anymore.

“Well, you know. There were some signs that you might not be local to the area,” She replied, dry as a bone, and he huffed a laugh - surprised to hear it, and realize it had come from him. 

“I see. You don’t mind if I use the computer?”

“Oh, not at all. It’s got a sixty-minute limit and then it’ll kick you out, but just let me know and I’ll let you back in.” She waved a hand and went back to her work, and he nodded, moving through the small space packed with bookshelves on every side until he made it to the computer chair and took a seat.

It didn’t take the full hour.

He didn’t know Noah’s real name, but he knew the phone number his wife called him from, searched for where the area code for that number was located.

He also knew Noah’s license plate number. Then he started looking, city by city in the state the license plate was from, at vehicle registration lists.

The third city he searched within the area code popped up a name.

Searching for house taxes using that name gave him an address, he owned a home in a cul-de-sac, he owned three other cars besides the truck. There was a second homeowner listed on his house taxes.

Edward Paulson. Wife - Christina Paulson. Finn looked her up by name and city, found a nurse by her name listed as working at a hospital there. She had a facebook, an instagram, and on the facebook were pictures of the same woman, two young boys, and… Noah.

Smiling, an arm around her shoulders just like he did with Finn sometimes. Another photo with a hand to her lower back.

Did he rub her back, when she was scared? Tell her things weren't the way she thought, that she couldn't trust her own eyes?

Did she know about Finn?

He asked politely for a piece of paper and a pen, a noise like static rising in his mind.

When he made it back to his truck, a harsh wind had risen and his nose and cheekbones felt cut to ribbons by the freeze. Little Mother greeted him with a cheerful chirp, and he rubbed a hand over the perfect soft round curve of her head, his other hand holding onto the names and address he had written down folded inside his pocket, while he stared at what he had done but did not remember doing before he left the truck.

Sometime between the temptation and taking action, he had set up his laptop to play a movie. There was a fight scene, tinny voices shouting. His phone was charging beside it. If Noah checked, he would see what movie was playing. He would think Finn had not left the truck.

Unless he'd called and Finn hadn't answered.

Panic thrilled through him again, but there was no missed call. Noah hadn't tried to talk to him. He could still call him later, pretend everything was normal.

That he wasn't-

That Finn wasn't giving in to his doubts.

For a while, he sat and stared again, willing the static noise in his mind to soften, so he could hear himself think again. Then he took a deep breath and grabbed his backpack.

He headed in to get a shower and some food, taking his phone with him this time so Noah would see that when the movie finished, he headed into the diner.

Normal night. 

Perfectly normal.

He would go to sleep early tonight.

He had a long, long drive to make tomorrow.

-

@whumperfully@pigeonwhumps  @squishablesunbeam  @darkthingshappen @whumper-soot @pumpkin-spice-whump @pardonmekreature @d-cs @whump-queen @sowhumpful

[unfriendlyamazon]

heist au

i don't know why i felt the urge to mess with this today but i've had an idea for a heist au for the ygos f o r e v e r and one day i'll actually write it all out... i've been posting ideas and bits lately so why not one more?

this is the intro i have written which mostly focuses on joey and yugi's relationship, but don't worry, the whole gang will show up soon

Joey Wheeler sighed as he climbed the stairs to his apartment. He closed out his voicemail, his landlord’s gruff voice still ringing. Rent was going up in Flatbush. When wasn’t it. Scrounging together the last few dollars he needed was getting harder each week.

He pushed it aside for now. He had other bills to pay, work to worry about, and he needed to stop by his dad’s place, just to make sure he was showering and going to work. Serenity had texted him. He pulled up her name as he jammed the key into the lock, and he paused. The door was pulled back from the frame a fraction of an inch. It stuck like that all the time. You really had to push it to make sure it closed properly. He did it every day when he left. Joey tucked his phone back into his pocket and swung his keys into his fist, shoving the door open.

His box of an apartment wouldn’t look any different for a breakin. This morning’s dishes were still in the sink, the egg and grease caked onto the plate. His shoes were kicked off next to the door in a haphazard pile. A pile of hoodies draped over the patched couch, and his books and DVDs were scattered on the coffee table, alongside week old mugs. The TV and Playstation were untouched, and his laptop, a few generations out of date but still functioning, was exactly where he’d left it his morning.

Joey let out a breath, stepping quietly through the door. Maybe his landlord had come by to see if the place was sellable. He hadn’t given his dad a key, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t drop in if he could manage it. A sound from his bedroom startled him, and he peered through the open door. Diesel Kane might be bold enough to trounce him in his own flat, or maybe it was Trudge hitting him up again. Joey puffed up, fists curling, and he marked forward, ready to bluster and intimidate. A figure appeared there, a head shorter than he’d expected, and his hands reached for their collar, bringing up the face of--

“Yugi!” He gasped and let go. “Sorry, man, I thought--”

Yugi stumbled back, but he was smiling. “It’s my fault, Joey. I should’ve let you know I was dropping by.”

“Yeah, dude.” He slid his hands through this hair, releasing the tension in them. “I didn’t even know you were in the city.”

“I flew in today,” he said. “I thought you’d be home.”

His grin was bright, round eyes warm. He looked like he did in his Instagram photos: vest pulled over his long sleeve shirt, a backpack slung over his shoulders, his usually spiked hair pulled back with the curls of his bleached bangs framing his face. Usually he was standing in front of his grandpa’s shop in Domino, or posing with cool kids in Harajuku. He must’ve just gotten off a thirteen hour flight, looking exactly as cheerful as he always did.

“You shoulda told me.” Joey waved him into the living room, kicking aside the mess. “I’ve gotta shift in like three hours, but we could grab something quick. I know a great burger place--”

“Joey,” Yugi said, still smiling. “I didn’t come to visit.”

He stopped and looked at him. “Yeah?”

“I’ve got something lined up,” he said. “And I really need your help.”

Excitement jolted in his veins. “A job?”

He nodded.

“How big?” Joey asked.

Yugi grinned. “You have no idea.”

---

The first time Yugi approached Joey about a job, it’d been right after high school graduation. Yugi had been in his first semester at college in Domino, one year before he would drop out, claiming with his grandpa’s health and his poor grades, it didn’t make sense to continue.

Joey was still living with his dad, and things had been going bad. He took work where he could get it to pay the bills, and Diesel had come skulking around again, always with a carrot in his hand and a stick behind his back. Yugi had appeared, staying with another one of his friends who went to NYU. Over dinner, at some sandwich shop over in Park Slope, Yugi had asked for his help. It was important, he claimed, and he could only trust him with it. He asked him to come back to Japan with him. Joey couldn’t say no.

The first time Yugi had laid out his master plan for Joey, he hadn’t known what to make of it. They’d been in his bedroom above his grandpa’s shop, and Yugi showed him a small replica of the art gallery two blocks over, using figurines sold in little plastic bags from the game store. The security had a major flaw in it. He’d pointed it out to Joey, who nodded numbly. He listened to his whole spiel, and then Yugi sat down across from him and asked him what he thought.

The next day they’d stolen five thousand dollars worth of fine art. Joey played his muscle when he and Yugi went to the fence. They split the take even. It didn’t really hit for Joey what they’d done until he was on the flight home, and an excitement thrummed inside his chest.

The jobs got bigger. The payouts were good. It wasn’t like kicking over corner stores for Diesel Kane, or brawling against the kids that were bigger, tougher. The people they stole from were rich, the things weren’t important, and most of all he trusted Yugi. Joey would lay down his life for the guy.

So when he told him there was a job in his own backyard, Joey didn’t even have to think twice.