#Scraped on the Way Out by KiloWatts

[pumpkinsouppe]

I HAD SO MUCH FUN DRAWING THIS FDJKSLF:J love experimenting with this style omg

I WAS SUPPOSED TO POST THIS IM JANUARY WHEN I FINISHED THE GAME but I have been so crazy busy I haven’t been able to play 😭😭, I’ve barely had time for video games I’m starting to run out of journal spreads too fjdkf. So PLEASE no end game spoilers in tags 🙏🙏🙏 I’m very close to finishing the game

Below is the real version and an alternate version but both are spoilers so DO NOT look at them if you haven't played Bomb Rush (on my knees shaking and crying trying to get people to play)

Real version is on the left (Felix) and alternate version is on the right (Red Felix). I LOVEEEEEE that when you talk to Bel in Mataan she asks if you are Red or Red Felix, that's just such a small detail that gives so much ownership to the player omg.

I cannot express how unbelievably happy this game makes me as someone who grew up playing jsrf. This is everything I could possibly want in a modern adaptation :').

[krshush]

Sound of my mental state atm

[deadlyflan]

TMNT Micro Fic #4

Splinter paced a slow line back and forth in front of his eleven-year-old sons. This whole affair filled his heart with unease. However, a promise had been made, and the boys had fulfilled their part. He drew a deep breath and faced the four eager faces squarely. “Do you promise to remain underground?” “HAI, SENSEI!” “Do you promise to take the first aid kit with you?” “HAI, SENSEI!” “Will you all kill each other if I let you go?” Donatello instantly replied, “No, Sensei!” His left kneepad slipped down his string bean leg, but he pulled it back up with a kilowatt smile. His goggles toppled forward and left him tugging on their strap. The kneepad fell down again.

“Probably not?” Michelangelo glanced at Raph. His freckled baby-fat cheeks puffed as he bit back giggles. Toes tapping a quick rhythm, Mikey almost, but not quite, stopped himself from dancing where he stood. The streamers tied to his elbow pads rustled.

“Kill each other? Uh. I mean, maybe.” Raphael offered an honest smile with a hint of an apology shrug as a downpayment on any future scrapes or scuffs. He bumped his mismatched boxing-gloves together eagerly; he still wore bandaids from earlier in the week.

Leonardo matched the rest of his vibrating brothers. Blue finger-painted racing stripes covered his spindly upper body. Unfortunate thumbprints somewhat spoiled the design, but Leonardo hadn’t noticed his paint nipples yet. He laughed brightly. “Definitely yes!” Splinter balked. “You will kill each other?” “No, sensei! But I’m going to smoke all three of their tails! My racer is awesome!”

That triggered a tidal wave of denials. “No way! My racer is way better!” “You don’t even know what you’re messing with!” “I’m gonna smoke your tail and don’t you forget it!” Each of them had a hidden racer they’d worked on all winter. And while he’d helped them each out in turn—to make sure no one was going to lose limbs to this contest—Splinter knew what each of these racers looked like. He knew his sons. And he knew that this would be more of a demolition derby than a downhill race in the old spillway. “You’d have to be mutated on the finish line to have a chance at beating me!” “Yeah well, you’d need time travel to beat me!” “My racer did time travel and I’ve already won, so—“ “I’m not loosing to a bunch of egg-pooping pipe-lickers—“ “Raphael! ENOUGH!” Splinter sighed heavily and rubbed his temples. He was going to have a riot on his hands if he didn’t let them go. Leonardo waved his hands desperately. Splinter was having second thoughts and Raph had to go throwing around bad words. Splinter needed reassurance, fast! “But it will be fine, Sensei! We have the first aid kit! We’re just going to the spillway under Central Park! We will be—will have lots of sportsmanship! The good kind! Please let us go. We did all our chores. We behaved all winter! My racer—our racers are so cool! Pleeease—” “Yeah! We did our chores! You said if—” “It finally stopped raining! The spillway is dry for optimal racing—“ “I built the best racer, Sensei! Please! Lemme show’em! I can win—” With slumped shoulders and a prayer that Shen would watch over them, Splinter relented. What else could he do? “Yes, yes, my turtles. Just remember your helmets!” All four boys scattered full-tilt to their ’top secret garages’ before his second 'yes.'

[paversandplatters]

||𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙱𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚂𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚙|| (6/10)

Apocalypse! Au (TW! Minor gore and cussing)

Reader x multiple

Chapter 6: Found you.

Philza doesn't see the unexpected obstruction in the middle of the road until it's almost too late. The problem is he's far too engrossed in lecturing his younger proteges after one of them so boldly insulted his longtime companion and friend sat beside him. See the youngling seems to be plagued with diarrhea of the mouth. Philza sits behind the wheel of his rumbling winnebago, relentlessly chewing the ears off of Tommy, who is currently slumped in his seat, struggling to actually pay attention to what the older man is saying.

"May I remind you, if it hadn't been for Techno, this convoy woul-"

"LOOK OUT!" The angular masked man, deck out in leather and denim sits up with a start, eyes wide and fixed on something he sees through the massive windshield. Philza jerks the wheel and stands on the breaks. The contents of the RV shift. Water bottles, canned, goods and other heavy items tumble off the shelves and cubbies, a few crash onto the tops of Tubbo and Tommy's heads, eliciting a colorful string of curses. Both men slam forward as the trailer skids to a sudden halt. Philza and Techno flop back into their seats blinking, breathless, in the side mirror they see the long line of vehicles- pickup trucks, RVs, four-wheelers and even a few sedans- forming a chain reaction of lurching skids, every member of the caravan screeching to a stop, one by one in a billowing cloud of carbon monoxide.

“What in the hell is that?” he sucks in a breath, still gripping the steering wheel as he tries to focus on the figures standing blithely in their path less than twenty yards ahead of them.

One of them is a tall, Caucasian man, dressed in a tattered green pullover with the hood pull up and over an unsettling white mask- the only marking on it being a very minimal smiley face ‘:)’. In front of him stands a much shorter woman in an equally ragged black sweatshirt and jeans. She has one of her muddy boots propped up on the front fender of a fancy Cadillac SUV- the big black kind often used by shady government types- which is currently parked and idling in the middle of the road. The strangest part of this tableau is that the woman is smiling. Even from this distance, she aims her ultra bright grin at the convoy’s lead vehicle as though preparing to sell some new line of kitchen knives.Techno goes for his .38, which is stuffed down his boot.

“Easy Techno, easy…” Philza takes another deep breath, waving the weapon off. He’s a man approaching his early thirties, Philza wears a well worn graphic-t the design too mottled by age to be recognizable. His face marked with the faintest signs of age, his pouchy eyes radiate a certain kindness. “This seem like a group of the living, no sign yet that they aren’t friendly. Just keep your eyes peeled.”

Techno shoves the short barrel pistol under his belt.”you stay here Phil, I’ll go-”

Philza puts his hand up “No, no… Techno I’ll go. You tell the others to keep their cool and tell them to stay inside their vehicles.” The younger man reaches for his two-way radio as the older man climbs out of the cab.

Over the thirty seconds- the amount of time it takes him to struggle down the running board steps, and scuffle across twenty feet of pavement- a chemical reaction occurs. Unseen, subtle, undetectable to anyone other that the three coming to face each other in the middle of the asphalt two lane. It bubbles up within Philza unexpectedly and as powerfully as an electrical charge passing through him. Instantly he dislikes the large fellow looming behind her.

“Morning sir.” The woman occupying the road says with a gleam of neighborly congeniality in her eyes. Philza can see two others behind the tinted glass of the Escalade- Two young men sat in the back seat, their moods and demeanors are unknown. Their hands hidden, their spines rigid, muscles tightly coiled.

“Hello there…” he calls back, faking a smile. He can feel the eyes and ears of his people on the back of his neck. They need fresh souls and strong backs to help with the maintenance, fuel runs and heavy lifting involved in keep the caravan going. At the same time they must be careful. A few bad apples have passed through the group in recent months and have threatened Its very existence. “Something we can help you with?” He inquires.

The thousand kilowatt smile brightens as she adjusts the hem of her sleeves, almost as if she were readying for a sales meeting. “Didn’t want to sneak up on you back there.” She sniffs and covertly follows Philza’s gaze to the ever looming figure behind her. “You never know who you’re going to run into out here in the wilds of biter country. Your group here seem to have it down to a science, traveling in that little cavalcade of yours, always moving… Safety in numbers - it’s genius really.”

“Thank you.” He keeps his artificial smile plastered on to his face.

“That’s quite a vehicle you got there…”

“Thank you.”

“Is that a Cadillac?”

“Yessir, two thousand and seven, still runs like a top.”

“Looks like it’s been in some rough scrapes.”

“That it has..”

Philza nods pensively “What can we do for you? You seem like a woman-“ his eyes flit to the man behind her once more. “Who’s got something on her mind.”

“Names Y/n, just a fellow survivor trying to get by, avoid the unsavory types, the four us have had our full of it.”

“Uh-huh.” He scratches his chin. He knows what's coming and doesn't like it one bit. It doesn't feel right. “ what can we help you with? We’ve got some extra petrol if that’s something you’re interested in… if not we’ve got some bottled water on hand?”

She pours on the charm. “That's kind of you. These are difficult times. The biters out here are often the least of our problems, you have to be real careful. I wouldn't expect you to just take in any old stray you find along the road.” Her expression softens, her eyes filling with sadness and humility. “ Sir, we are good, hardworking people who need a place of refuge if not only for a short time, we need medical treatment, food and the safety of fellowship. It never occurred to us that solace might be found and a moving target like the one you've got here.”

The daylight has dawned enough now for Philza to clearly see the young men hunkered in the Escalade, obviously injured, nervously waiting. he swallows and licks dry chapped lips. “I'm going to have to ask if the two in the Caddy could maybe go ahead and show their hands.” She turns and gives them a nod, one by one the people in the SUV hold up their hands, revealing that they are unarmed.

Phil nods. “I appreciate that. Now may I ask the number and type of weapons you might be carrying?”

She grins. “It’s not much. Got a couple of nines and a shotgun. Big man’s got a snubby. Not much left over in the way of ammo, I’m afraid.”

He nods again and starts to say, “Fair enough, now if I might ask you to-”

Out of nowhere, a number of unexpected noises and quick movements in his peripheral vision interrupts his spiel and makes him flinch as if a bomb has just gone off. A figure from behind him approaches at a dead run, arms pumping excitedly, voice caterwauling-

“HOLY SHIT!! CHRIST, IT’S HER, I TOLD THEM IT WAS HER- I JUST KNEW IT-!!” The young protégé, dressed clad in red and white comes charging toward Y/n, Big man jerks back, reaching for his weapon taken completely by surprise.

“It’s okay! He’s one of ours!” Philza calls out shooting his hands up in a conciliatory gesture. “It’s alright, he’s harmless!” Y/n has her face suddenly aglow with emotion, eyes wet as she spots the kid, seeing the grey scarf still tightly knotted around his belt. She opens her arms.

“I fucking knew it!” The young man plunges into her arms. He so much taller than she remembers, that fact makes her heart ache. “I was worried you might’ve been dead.” He murmurs, his face pressed into the crook of her neck. The woman hugs him back, stroking his head with maternal tenderness. The young man begins to softly weep.

Y/n shushes him, murmuring soothing words. “I’m not dead yet… still that ‘cranky-old ass bitch’ you met in that hole.”

The young man now sobs into her neck. “I missed you… I tried coming back for you, but I was afraid… by the time I got help, you were already gone… I just.. I just didn’t think…”

She shushes him again “Now that’s enough of that, I told you not to bother looking back now didn’t I?” Her hand move to rub circles over his back. Nick pokes his head out the window with a furtive look. “What’s the deal..? Are we staying with these people or what.” Philza looks over at the two still embracing and smiles.

“looks like you’re already apart of the family.”

Tag list:

@the-wandering-pan-ace @hvrcruxes

[kanadolll]

How to hide your sex doll?

Sex dolls are entirely sturdy. Nonetheless, since you have been utilizing your doll for quite a while, you can't keep it from having slight to genuine harms. Fortunately, there are different fix instruments that you can purchase to fix your doll at home.

For example, you need to have the typical 1.5 Kilowatts infrared firearm nearby when you need to fix your TPE doll. Such a warmth firearm comes helpful in light of the fact that it permits you to see the temperature feed continuously. You can buy this kind of warmth firearm on Amazon or in any store on the web.

Down to earth Guide to Repair Your Damaged Sex Doll

In the mean time, the fixes that you will complete will contrast contingent upon the harm that your sex doll has gained. In the event that the harm is basic, fixing it won't need a lot of abilities or exertion. Visit this site In addition, your TPE doll can have spaces on its body because of the effect of weight when you are utilizing it. A similar harm can happen when you inappropriately store your doll for its situation.

In any case, you can in any case take it easy in light of the fact that there several methodology that you can do to fix your adored sex doll.

Various Procedures in Fixing a Sex Doll

Fixing Indentations

The Hairdryer Procedure

Your hairdryer can accomplish something other than drying your hair. In reality it is one flexible extra as it offers an answer in fixing your harmed TPE doll. In the first place, this technique, get a perfect wet towel. You should will utilize a white material as hued towels could stain the skin of your sex doll.

Since you as of now have a spotless wet towel, cover the space blemish on your doll with that and afterward heat the surface. Rehash this multiple times. In the end, you will see that the spaces and pressing factor blemishes on your sex doll's surface will start to steadily vanish.

Fixing Dents Using a Hot Towel

Get a perfect towel, ideally white, and wet it with boiling water. From that point forward, cover the noticeable pressing factor imprints for some measure of time. The following stage is to put a glove on and pat the indented part of the doll with your hand. Rehash this cycle until the harm or space vanishes.

An Easy Step to Fix Leg or Neck Rip, Tear, and General Abrasion

There are times when you will utilize your sex doll in an unseemly and rash way. This can represent a primary risk to your sex doll, bringing about harm like tears and scraped spots.

That being said, you don't have to stress as there are two simple ways for you to fix your harms sex doll.

Utilizing TPE Glue

The primary thing that you need to do in this technique is to find the harmed or torn zone of your doll. Then, get a fine-tipped device that you can use to apply the TPE stick on the tear.

Pragmatic Guide to Repair Your Damaged Sex Doll

When you have applied the paste to the silicon skin of your sex doll, arrange the different sides of the slash. It is significant that you try to press the fix briefly or more until it becomes flawless once more.

Yet, prior to applying the TPE stick, it is critical to clean the harmed surface first. This is to eliminate any soil or abundance oil that may keep the paste from staying neatly. You can clean the harmed territory by cleaning it with 70% isopropyl liquor.

What's more, you need to wear a glove when fixing the tear. When you are altogether prepared, get a fine-tipped instrument or spatula and apply the TPE fix stick on the inward surface of the tear. Ensure that your spatula doesn't have any overabundance drop of paste on its tip as it can harm your sex doll's skin further.

In the wake of applying the TPE stick, arrange the different sides of the tear. Hold the tear together until the different sides tie back.

When you tie the cuts together, the abundance paste will get crushed out. Get a tissue or any spotless fabric that you could use to wipe that away from your doll's skin. What's more, you should cease from utilizing your finger in cleaning the abundance stick as it will have undesirable finger checks and effects.

While the paste is drying, ensure that there is no strain on the doll's surface the can re-open the joined injury. You ought to likewise situate the doll such that the basic surfaced that you fixed won't get any strain. Leave that for 24 hours.

Warmth Gun Procedure

What you need in this strategy is an average 1.5 Kilowatt heat weapon. You can buy this on Amazon or anyplace on the web.

To begin, clean the outside of the doll that should be fixed with one or the other Vaseline or child oil. Applying both of the two fills two needs. To start with, it will clean and disinfect the outside of your doll. Second, it will disseminate the warmth applied all the more equally. Obviously, applying oil or Vaseline is significant on the off chance that you would prefer not to consume your sex doll's skin.

After equally applying Vaseline or child oil, continue to zero in your warmth weapon on the harmed skin. Note that you must be aware of the distance between the doll's skin and the warmth weapon. A distance of around four inches is prudent.

Useful Guide to Repair Your Damaged Sex Doll

The following thing that you need to do is to arrive at the required temperature, That being said, the dissolving point of the silicon utilized fo a sex doll's skin is somewhere near 110 degrees Celcius. Subsequent to warming two or three minutes, you will see a coating like mirror finish. From that point onward, get a clear material and plume out the surface harm brought about by scraped spots. Rehash this cycle a few times with stretches for cooling until the scraped spot vanishes. Warming and cooling the doll surface is the way to getting a smooth completion.

[kohanayaki]

Caught in the Middle (Steve Harrington x Reader x Billy Hargrove) Ch 5

Links: Ch 1   Ch 2   Ch 3  Ch 4  Ch 5  Ch 6   Ch 7

_______________________________________________________

Ch 5 .:Not According to Plan:.

The next day you found yourselves outside the Hawkins community pool after the kids, aside from Max, begged you to drive them there. 

“You're lucky I'm taking you anywhere after you spied on me,” you said, hands on your hips. 

“I wouldn't exactly call it 'spying',” Lucas said.

“You were staring at us from the bushes,” you deadpanned.

“Fair enough,” Dustin said. 

“Listen, I don't know what you guys thought that was, but Steve and I were just hanging out and I don't want to hear you guys spreading rumors around, okay?” you sighed. 

“Sorry, (Y/n),” Will said. 

“It's alright,” you said, “Just don't go sneaking around in the fake plants at the mall again, someone might call Hopper.” 

Everyone got their swimsuits from the trunk and ran to the changing rooms, eager to jump in the pool and cool off a bit. 

You locked up your car, tying your swimsuit cover around your waist. You were lucky this place had life guards, at least; you wouldn't have to keep track of everyone all the time. As you looked up to the guard seat, however, you began to think maybe you weren't so lucky.

“You've got to be kidding me,” you said to yourself. Now you understood why Max was less than enthusiastic to come here. 

“Of course you would work here,” you said, walking up to Billy. 

“Just couldn't get enough of me, hm?” He grinned, stepping down from his perch.

“Don't flatter yourself, hotshot,” you said, elbowing him in the ribs.

The razor sharp glares you were receiving from the middle aged women around you were kind of hard to ignore. Moms everywhere were wishing you would drown as Billy's attention shifted solely to you.

“I see you're popular with the PTSA,” you said, leaning back against the ladder. 

“You could say that,” Billy chuckled, “I don't mind. Boss gives me extra shifts because I bring in more customers.”

“I wonder why,” you said, rolling your eyes, “Have you ever considered putting on a shirt?”

“People seem to like me better without one,” Billy said, eyeing you. 

Your throat suddenly felt dry as his eyes traveled down your body, leaving shivers in their wake. You bit your lip, trying to clear your mind, an action that Billy's eyes followed. You took a small step back, and the energy seemed to disperse. 

'Don't fucking do this,' you thought to yourself, 'You know how he is, you're just gonna get your heart broken again.'

Billy seemed to sense the shift in the air too, clearing his throat a bit.

“Where's your boyfriend?” he asked as a joke, but you could have sworn his tone turned a little bitter despite the unwavering kilowatt smile on his face.

“Boyfriend?” your eyebrows shot up as you looked at him.

“King Steve,” he said, making air quotations with his hands.

You felt a hot blush creep onto your cheeks, hoping you could pass it off and blame it on the sun. 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you said.

Billy scoffed at that.

“Come on, with the way he looks at you? I bet he wishes he was.” 

“And you don’t?” you smirked.

Billy looked at you, surprised, before chuckling and letting out a low whistle.

“Bold today, aren’t we?” he said, leaning against the life guard post and giving you a full view of his chiseled chest, “I must be rubbing off on you.” 

“Yeah, well you’re a terrible influence,” You laughed. 

While you and Billy talked Max looked over to you guys, watching. A small crease formed in her brow as she saw Billy smile at you, his laugh ringing out through the pool. How long had it been since she saw him smile? Really smile. She couldn't recall any time in the last few years. Maybe in California when they were younger? As Max watched you she couldn't help but think this was the calmest she'd seen her stepbrother in a long, long time. 

__________________________________________________________

As soon as you got home you shrugged off your jacket and jumped onto your bed, sighing as you sank into the plush mattress. It had been an exhausting day making sure the kids didn't get themselves killed. After the pool you drove them to get something to eat, the group just as loud and rowdy as usual. You were lucky the restaurant owner didn't kick you out. 

You reached over the mattress, flipping through the vinyls next to your bed. You smiled as you looked over your collection- Prince, Guns N' Roses, Bowie, Van Halen, Bon Jovi, Def Leppard, and anything else you could think of. You grinned as you picked one out, setting it carefully down on your record player. You leaned back as Ride the Lightning started playing, closing your eyes to focus on the guitar riffs. 

Music was your happy place, pretty much everyone who knew you knew that. Every year for your birthday you'd get a new record from your brother, and some of your favorite memories from when you were younger were at the concerts your dad took you too. Music was always something that got you through tough times.

You were pulled out of your thoughts fairly abruptly as you heard pounding against your window. You pulled the needle off your record player as you turned to face the wall, covered mostly by your curtains. At first you thought it was just the nearby branches scraping against the glass, but fear crept up your spine as your window began to slowly slide open, the night breeze coming into your room. You wanted to scream, and you knew you should, but no sound came out of your mouth. Your only instinct was to reach for the switch blade in your bedside drawer, your hands shaking.

In the darkness a figure emerged from the window frame, one leg coming into your room followed by the other, and you froze as it revealed itself as. . .

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” 

Billy jumped at your sudden outburst, covering his ears. 

“You scared the shit out of me,” his eyes widened as he saw the knife in your hand, “Hey, put that down, would you?”

“I scared the shit out of you?” you said incredulously, “You're the one who just broke into my house!”

“Hey, quiet down, aren't your parents sleeping?”

You turned to him with a look that could cut glass.

“First of all, this is my house, Hargrove, so don't tell me to quiet down. Second, my dad's working late tonight and my brother can sleep through Armageddon like a log, so don't you worry about it.”

Billy just stared at you, not saying anything. 

“What?” you seethed, practically feeling your blood vessels about to pop.

“Nothing, you're just hot when you're mad.”

“I can't fucking believe this,” you groaned. He laughed at your reaction. You closed your bedroom door with a huff and turned to Billy, less than impressed.

“How the hell did you even find my house?” you asked irritably.   

“You can hear the music from the other side of town,” he said with a smirk, “There's not a lot of other people who listen to Metallica around here, you know.”

“And you just assumed it was me?” you scoffed, “Seriously, this house could've belonged to some middle aged dad with a gun for all you knew.”

“Well then this conversation would be very different,” he chuckled, making himself at home and sitting on your bed.

You huffed at his antics, taking a seat at your vanity chair. 

“Nice room,” he said, looking around.

“Thanks,” you said, still weirded out at this whole situation. You were alone in your room with Billy Hargrove- This was a recipe for a world of relapsing bad choices. As he admired your room you couldn't help but notice how normal he acted after literally breaking and entering. You couldn't even imagine the number of window locks he'd picked for a quick hook up, and you swallowed hard as you mentally prepared yourself to kick his ass out the second floor where he came from if he tried anything. 

Billy's eyes scanned over the posters on your wall, most of them were musicians or your favorite horror movies. There was also a bulletin board by your desk plastered with tickets from various concerts. He rose a brow as he spotted something in the corner of your room.

“You play?” he asked, walking over to your electric guitar. 

“Yeah,” you said, “I'm not as good as my brother, he's in an actual band and shit, but my mom taught me.”

You reclaimed your seat on your own bed as he slipped the strap over his head and started playing softly. Without the amp hooked up you could just barely hear the notes as his fingers moved across the fret board. 

'Damn it, (Y/n), don't think about how hot he looks playing that,' you said to yourself. 

As he played Billy noticed a few marks on the body of the guitar and he turned it on its side to get a better look. His eyes widened as he saw it was an autograph. The writing was scrawled out in a mess of stylized letters, but the name was unmistakable.

“Mick Mars?” he said, sitting back on your bed and turning to you, “How the hell did you get him to sign this?”

“My dad grew up in LA,” you said, “Mars was with the guys opening for my dad's band at the time. When Crue made it big they met up when they were touring in New York and my dad had him sign his guitar. He kept it all this time and gave it to me when I turned sixteen.”

“That's fucking awesome,” Billy said, an excited twinkle in his eyes, “I got to see the first show they ever did at the Starwood.”

“No way,” you said, “They let you in?”

“Nope,” he grinned, “A friend sneaked me inside. It was fucking crazy. Tommy's kit practically fell apart before they even started and before I knew it there was an all out fist fight. Sixx jumped off the stage and slammed his bass into this guy's neck and security had to break it up. But they kicked ass once they got started. I remember when I was leaving the bouncer caught me because I was clearly under eighteen and he chased me down the street.”

“That is crazy,” you laughed, him joining you. Silence took over you two momentarily, but it was a comfortable silence. You looked over to him, your fingers playing with the hem of your shirt as you spoke.

“Do you miss it?” you asked quietly.

“What?” he asked.

“California,” you said, “I've only ever been once when we took a road trip to Disneyland, but I know that's not all there is to it. What was it like?”

You sort of regretted asking when you saw the far off look in his eyes, but it disappeared as soon as it came.

“Better than this shit hole,” he said, “I miss the beach, I guess.”

“Do you surf or something?” you asked. 

“Yeah,” he said, kind of surprised, “How'd you know?”

“The hair,” you joked. 

He scoffed, but the smile on his face defied his action of trying to shove you off the bed. 

“Hey, this is my property,” you said, swatting his arms away, “If anyone's getting thrown off it's you.”

As much as you didn't want to admit it, you were actually enjoying the company of Hawkin's biggest asshole. 

As your mock wrestling match died down the room slowly began to fill with the same energy you had felt at the pool, and from the way Billy was looking at you he could feel it too. You couldn't believe he hadn't tried anything yet; he had you alone in your bedroom and your dad wasn't home. You figured he'd make a pass at you right away, but his actions so far really did seem like he just wanted to talk to you tonight. 

You pretended not be be disappointed that he hadn't, and you also pretended not to notice the way his eyes drifted down to your lips. You were a mere few centimeters away from each other now, some invisible force pulling you closer together.

To your surprise it was Billy who pulled away, clearing his throat. 

“Listen, I should bounce,” he said, getting up from your bed and leaving you shocked, “I'll bother you more tomorrow at school, yeah?” 

You stared at his back as he went to open the window again, your head spinning. As loud as the voice of caution in your head was, there was something about this situation and this stupid asshole in front of you that made you say ‘fuck it.’

Before he got his legs through the window frame you turned him around by his shoulders and pulled him into a heated kiss. It was as if all the tension between you two that had been building since you first spoke had just been acknowledged, and damn if it didn't feel good.

As you pulled away, the possibility of that whole exit act being a ploy to get you to make the first move crossed your mind, but the Californian was visibly surprised. 

For the first time in his life Billy Hargrove was speechless.

Well, almost. 

“I thought you said 'no thanks,'” he chuckled breathlessly.

“Shut the hell up before I change my mind,” you said, pulling him back in for another kiss by the collar of his leather jacket. 

Things heated up quickly, but it always seemed like that when it came to Billy Hargrove. He shrugged his jacket off with ease, not breaking your kiss. You bit his lower lip slightly and he let out a low growl, his fingers pulling you forward by your belt. Your arms snaked around his neck as you deepened the kiss, and his hands wandered down to your waist. 

You started unbuttoning the remaining half of his shirt and he seemed hesitant for a moment before sliding it off his shoulders. 

Maybe you wouldn't notice.

You froze as his chest was fully exposed to you. Even in the dark you could see the angry bruises that littered his torso. He winced as you ran your hand over them gently, and you pulled your hand away. 

“Billy-”

“It's fine,” he said quickly.

“It's clearly not fine,” you countered.

“Well it's none of your business,” he said, his voice wavering.

There was no real threat behind his words, if anything it sounded like a cry for help, and your chest tightened. A thought crossed your mind just then: why was Billy out of the house on the wrong side of town in the first place? There were no parties happening tonight, and it wasn't as if there were clubs in Hawkins. He left his house for a reason.

“Did your dad do this?” you asked quietly. 

His head snapped up to look at you, and for a moment you were scared of what you saw in his eyes.

“I'm sorry,” you said, “When I dropped Max off that one day I heard him yelling and. . . I don't know, I shouldn't have-”

You were cut off sharply by Billy's lips crashing into yours, his actions hungry and more forceful than before. He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his hot breath fanning across your neck.

“You fucking tell anyone about this-”

“I won't,” you said, chest heaving, your hands gripping onto his bare shoulders, “I wouldn't do that to you.” Your heart was pounding out of your chest as you chose your next words carefully. You didn't realize until now just how broken he was. 

“It's gonna be okay.”

He swallowed hard at your words, gritting his teeth. You tried to steady your shaking hands as you cupped his cheeks, kissing him softly. He kissed you back like a man starved. His grip on you was like a vice, as if he was afraid you would disappear at any moment. His hands weaved through your hair as you moved to straddle his hips, pressing your foreheads together.

“God, you're fucking killing me,” he groaned.

Your breath caught in the back of your throat as his lips latched onto your neck, feeling heat start to pool in your stomach. 

“Are you sure about this?” he asked. 

“Don't pretend to be a gentleman all of a sudden, Hargrove,” you smirked.

Just before you could pull him back in, you heard the sound of your front door closing and you both froze.

“Shit,” you said in unison. 

You scrambled off him hurriedly, hearing the stairs creak as the footsteps got louder. Billy didn't bother with his shirt, slinging his jacket on before practically diving out the window and pressing his body against the outside wall so he couldn't be seen.

You rushed under the covers just as your door creaked open.

“You still awake in here?” your dad asked.

“Well now I am,” you groaned, pretending to rub the sleep from your eyes.

“Sorry, kiddo,” your dad laughed, “Just making sure you didn't die.”

“Goodnight, dad,” you said, smiling as you rolled your eyes.

“Goodnight,” he smiled back, shutting the door gently. 

When you heard the door to his office shut you heaved an audible sigh of relief.

“That was fucking close,” Billy said, poking his head in through the window.

“I know,” you said.

“Well, that's one way to kill the mood,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Sorry,” you said, “He's not going to sleep for a good few hours, so. . .”

His hand lifted your chin up and you saw that stupid shit eating grin of his plastered onto his face. 

“Don't worry, I'm sure we can pick up where we left off real soon,” he said, planting one more kiss on your lips. “Don’t miss me too much, princess.” 

And with that, he slid down the roof of your house, hanging off the edge for a moment before dropping down and landing perfectly on his feet. 

He shot you a smirk over his shoulder as he hopped into his Camaro, tossing his shirt onto the passenger seat. You fell back onto your bed as the roar of his engine grew quieter and quieter until only the sound of the wind and the cicadas could be heard. 

Your heart was still beating stupidly fast, and you couldn't help the giddy, breathless chuckle that left you. You just did the exact thing you promised yourself you'd never do again. Things certainly didn’t go according to plan, but it felt so good that you didn't even care. 

As sleep slowly claimed you the last thing you saw was the hungry look Billy gave you, the feeling of his lips still lingering on yours. 

Read Chapter 6 here!

Taglist: @in-my-dreams-2000 @ggclarissa @iris1697 @5sosxgrethan @ohnoniella @sarcasticalphaofthelooserspack @aspiring-fangirls-world @wow-im-so-tired @hopesxxhigh @justanothercrazyassfangirl @too-many-lanes @whimsylavender @bish-ima-clown @amarachoren @mosiacbrokenheartstf @mcuvlxgs @xapham @metuel18 @immirandaq @nellaphine @multi-madison @gingertalksshit @jojo-buttercup @kyberhearts @mvdelaine @minnie-marvel @caitlin-rose28 @zandaleekrz @r3inventedd @void-fire-rose @macymafia @wanna-be-idle @newtsshelbys @kimmydespell @weyheyokay @r4ttusr4ttus @cynthianokamaria @spookyartisanmuffineggs @youcanstandundermyamberella @ashadowoftheforest @shrektiledysfunction @arithatonegirl @banannie25

[flowesona]

Saviours - Yandere! Taehyung x reader x Yandere! Namjoon

The Anarchy AU

All remained of the formerly great city was a labyrinth of traps. Every square inch was ‘owned’ by some gang, and in order to survive one had to always be on their toes. (Y/N) had barely survived an ambush by a gang that had left her friends dead, and even by escaping with nimble feet she was not safe.

 The young woman barely had time to catch her breath as she ducked into an abandoned office building. The loud yells outside almost made her whimper but she couldn’t afford to give her location away. Instead, she swallowed her fear and began to shuffle towards the stairs, cautiously staring behind her with one hand still clutching the awl she’d scavenged. Once she reached the stairs she scampered up them without a second thought.

 However, just as she thought she was safe from the bandits she was met with a shotgun nuzzle to the face. She immediately held her hands up in surrender.

 “Please, I’m just trying to escape the bandits outside. They’re going to kill me!” (Y/N) whimpered, tearing starting to build up in her eyes. Her assailant visibly softened, beckoning her up the stairs but keeping the shotgun trained on her.

 The sight of a group of men sat around a table with a map in front of them did nothing to ease the young girl’s terror as she was lightly pushed towards them.

 “They’ll have some back up in two days so if we can- who’s this, Tae?” The man stood at the head of the table broke away from his speech to look at (Y/N), stood trembling a few feet away from them.

 “She’s a refugee. Target of the Sloggers.” The other man responded, lowering his weapon as he kept a constant eye on her from the doorway.

 “Are you okay?” One of the seated men asked, offering her the first sign of genuine kindness she’d seen ever since the crisis began.

 “I-I-I..” (Y/N) couldn’t even manage to string a sentence together, her fear swarming her brain.

 “Hey, you’re safe now. No need to worry.” The man said, standing up and walking over to take her by the shoulder and lead her to a seat.

 “What’s her name?” The leader asked ‘Tae’, who shrugged.

 He took the opportunity to approach her, stretching out his hand.

 “Kim Namjoon. I’m the leader of this group. We call ourselves BTS.” (Y/N) nodded and swallowed.

 “It’s just like Hoseok said. You’re safe, we can protect you.” Namjoon smiled, maintaining deep eye contact with her. When she nodded and gave him the best smile she could muster in return, he knew he’d found the saving grace to the destruction of civilisation.

                                          »»———————►

 She had never expected to find such kindness in the apocalypse. Yet this group of men showed her such daring sympathy that she almost felt safe, as if nothing was happening.

But (Y/N) felt most at peace when she was around Hoseok - he never failed to make her smile, even through the littlest things like checking if she had her gas mask with her when they went outside, or offering her his blanket whenever she had to be on lookout duty. The way that he treated her with such kindness and gave her that ten thousand kilowatt smile was inspiring for her faith in what remained of humanity.

 However, the young woman had remained ignorant to the other people pining after her. Taehyung was starting to become bitter about how she clung to the youngest member even when he was close by, how she rarely accepted his kind offers to keep her warm. It was inconceivable to him that he’d been the one that had taken her in, yet she ignored him in favour of the sunshine boy. 

He’d expressed his frustration to their leader, who was similarly peeved at the relationship between Hoseok and (Y/N), or any of the other members. Jealousy had begun to boil in the two men, yet their mutual development of an obsession for her kept them from attacking each other, instead forming an unofficial alliance.

                                          »»———————►

 “We’re splitting into two teams of three. You’ll be with me and Tae, (Y/N). Are you okay with that?” The young girl nodded confidently.

 “I’ve gotten better at defending myself. You don’t have to worry about me slowing you down.” Namjoon exchanged a look with Taehyung - almost a grimace.

 “We’ll only be 40 minutes behind. We’ll rendezvous at the new quarters.” He explained. “Leave the fighting to everyone else.”

 It was more difficult to say goodbye to Hoseok than she thought. Even though it was only for a short amount of time, the anxiety that she could lose him plagued her. He eased her worrying with a kiss, promising that he would stay alive, just for her.

                                          »»———————►

 (Y/N) noted that her companions were more tense than usual as they followed the set trail, but she simply marked this down as the same worrying as her. Even as everything was going according to plan she couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was wrong.

 That feeling of dread only worsened when she realised that they hadn’t been in contact with the others for a while. She tried bringing this up with Namjoon but he dismissed it easily, offering her his hand in case she was scared. She took it to convince herself she was safe, but it just wasn’t the same as when Hoseok would comfort her.

 They arrived at their destination, but it was seemingly desolated.

 “Where are they…” (Y/N) asked rhetorically, not noticing the way Namjoon had tightened his grip slightly and Taehyung seemed strangely calm. 

 A bloodied Hoseok staggering into sight was clear enough evidence that something horribly wrong had happened.

 “They attacked us Joon. It’s like they were waiting for us! They killed everyone else, I just managed to pretend-” (Y/N) raced forward to take him in her arms, to care for him like he had for her on so many nights but she was held back by the firm grasp of Namjoon. He tugged her backwards, capturing both her arms behind her as he nodded at Taehyung.

 Said man raised his gun to Hoseok’s forehead.

 “Incompetent fools couldn’t even get rid of the one we needed dead the most.” Taehyung growled, cocking the gun. Hoseok paled, shocked into silence by the apathy behind the eyes of men he considered to be his friends.

 “Hobi!” (Y/N) struggled against Namjoon’s hold, terrified to no end at the sight before her. “What’s happening? Please, what are you doing Taehyung?”

 “Shhh.” Namjoon placed a hand over (Y/N)’s mouth and nodded at his partner. “Take care of him for us.”

 Hoseok’s eyes darted towards (Y/N), and then back at the gun pressed to his forehead. In a split second he grabbed Taehyung’s arm and started to wrestle the handgun out of his grasp. The younger man hissed as he was shoved to the ground, the hard concrete scraping his skin as he struggled to dominate over his victim.

 “Get (Y/N) out of here, hyung. I can deal with him.” He growled, straddling Hoseok’s chest and breathing heavily. (Y/N) had almost forgotten about her own predicament when caught up with the sight of her beloved fighting for his life.

 She bit into Namjoon’s hand, trying to release his grip but he was unflinching, digging the afflicted hand into his pocket to search for something whilst his other hand still held her captive, nails digging into the skin.

 The click of a gun and a pained grunt distracted her, the sound ringing in her ears as she looked at Hoseok helplessly. Trapped under the weight of his former friend with a gun pressed against his forehead, all he could do when he met (Y/N)’s fearful gaze was give her a comforting smile and whisper that he loved her. Just in time for her to feel a pinch in her neck, a cool flow of chemicals numbing her senses.

 The last thing she heard before being swallowed by emptiness was the crack of a gunshot.

                                          »»———————►

 Namjoon was sure to be delicate with her body as he carried her away from the sight of the carnage. He took advantage of her weak state to hold her closer than he’d ever been able to before, smiling contently at the way her head felt like it was meant to be rested against his chest.

 With that he entered the building, the scent of blood and gunpowder was a somewhat comforting reminder that things had gone to plan. Being able to cradle his beloved to his chest was enough for him to say the killing the people he had grown close to was worth it, as much as it had tugged at his heart to see Hoseok die in front of him. There was still one part of his mind that whispered to him that he hadn’t done enough - what if Taehyung were to betray him and steal his beloved away?

 However, all of those thoughts were easy to vanquish when he met with the younger man, who was splattered with more blood than he’d ever seen before.

 “Doubt he could be alive with that many wounds.” He breathed. He looked down at the girl cuddled into Namjoon’s chest, a warm smile spreading over his face.

 “How is she?”

 “Out like a light. We should’ve shown Yoongi some mercy as a thanks but I guess it’s too late for that.” Namjoon smirked.

 “He was too close with (Y/N) for my liking.” Taehyung’s attention was drawn back to the unconscious girl.

 “Give her here. You can be lookout for once.” He commanded, and with the pure insanity swirling in his eyes Namjoon was smart enough to concede, making sure she was well supported in his arms before leaving the two.

                     »»———————►

 Taehyung had dreamt of this moment ever since he’d seen her that day, trembling in front of him. Every night had been spent fantasising about holding her close, kissing her gently yet with all his passion, making love to her as if no one else could. Of course, he had to share, but he could win her over and make sure she loved him just a bit more than Namjoon.

 He laid her down on the hotel bed, dusting the cover off so that she wouldn’t start sneezing. He then seated himself beside her, pulling her over so that she rested over his lap, stroking her hair gently and letting it soothe him out of the adrenaline from the massacre.

 The radio in his back pocket crackled to life, a message from his partner ringing out yet the young man didn’t bother to respond, setting it down under the bed before turning over to press himself against (Y/N)’s back, face buried into her neck as if she was his security blanket.

 He didn’t have to worry about losing her to anyone else. She only had them to love.

 [Part Two TBA]

[theendofman]

Industrialization of Life

Slow Days - Chapter 6

This is a proper chapter for once, not just a short essay about one of my weird daydreams, so grab a cup of tea before reading. If you haven't read the previous chapters you can find the full collection on my blog. Enjoy :)

The Probe exited the Kuiper Belt, slowly moving sol-ward. Its utter size rendered all human definitions of "vessel" meaningless. It hadn't been built for humans though, it had been built to eat. The gates on the mechanized astroid opened, as large as the humans' towers and wider than most earth-rivers long, to reveal hangars filled with autonomous agents, sized from the scale of humans themselves to the dimensions of large factory buildings. A small group of a few thousand, roughly the size of oil tankers and shaped like squished, edged eggs, separated from their docking station and disappeared into the abyss.

Alecjo stared at the wall in his cabin. It's been 3 weeks since they passed the asteroid belt. The fault had been with the electronic valves. A fault they couldn't fix while fuel was flowing through the system, which they couldn't stop since the valves were broken. If they had turned the ship around they'd have fallen short, slowly turning towards the sun. That wouldn't have been a problem if they had flown a stable transfer orbit, but they didn't. It would have been too slow to meet the required timeframe. Therefore they would have been in a parabolic trajectory towards sol, eventually hitting her surface. Sure, it would have taken months, but the captain didn't want to risk it. Eventually, he decided to dump the remaining propellant and hope that someone would come to rescue the Vuoto, while only pointing the ion-thrusters outward.

Alexander raised his head; he sat on the other side of the room. They had been sharing rooms since Diana and the captain had converted the other cabins to growing cabinets. "I'm going to check the scans again", Alex said.

===============================================

While Alecjo and Diana had been outside Alex had sent out a distress signal and it actually went through before the power went out, but it wasn't answered the way that they'd hoped. A day after the broadcast they received an encrypted transmission. An update to the system computers completely and physically bricking their radio by burning capacitors in one of the modules, crippling the ships ability to communicate or announce their presence. They could listen, but not speak up. The company had decided that the Vuoto and its Cargo weren't valuable enough to spawn a rescue operation. It was illegal sure, but no one would have persecuted them, even if the public had found out. The update served to prevent public outrage. To prevent possible revolution. They had betrayed the crew, so Alexander Laventryev hoped for the kindness of strangers.

Alecjo didn't answer Alex. He hadn't really spoken to anyone for three days. It was just too much effort. He was well-nourished and physically fit enough, but it was just so hard; so Alex left him in the cabin.

As Alex entered the bridge he saw Diana was already there monitoring the life support for about the fifteenth time today. Silently he flew over to the radio console; in his peripheral vision, he noticed Diana trying to conceal turning her head towards him slightly. "Anything new?"

Her voice sounded rough. Alex sighed as he scrolled through the new messages. Diana eyed him, annoyed about his silence.

"The captain needs 8% increased soil humidity in your quarter. Make that happen until tomorrow." Alex sharply exhaled as he pushed his rising discontent to the side. He didn't like to be bossed around like that. Sometimes he thought of how little he actually knew about the other crew members. He knew Alecjo was married and that Diana had been living with her sister before she left earth to provide for both their lives. The captain was a father, but he had never talked about the mother of his two daughters.

>>I might be the one who left the least behind<< he said to himself as he reached the bottom of the log. No transmissions for them. Not one even mentioning them.

"What did you say?", Diana asked harshly. She hadn't slept well the night before. "Nothing, just talking to myself."

Alex hadn't even noticed he had muttered those word out loud and he felt a slight sting in his chest as Diana drifted over to the exit to leave. "I'll have it done by tonight" Alex mumbled. Diana left for the growing cabinet, that what had been Alex cabin.

She tried to focus. Her peripheral eyesight had shrunk down to about 60 degrees. As she floated down the hall her bowel started to sting again. Plants weren't her strong suit but she thought herself to be decent at engineering.

The internal ship database suggested 30 mols per square meters per day over a 16 hour period for growing vegetables. The converted cabin had a 9-square-meters-footprint and was 2.3 meters high. Therefore the room had a total growing area of 2 times 9 m² floor and ceiling, and 4 times 6.9 m² wall area totalling 45.6 m² of which approximately 42 were usable. This results in 1260 mols per day. The LEDs stored on the ship for on-the-job mechanics specified 1.6 micromols per joule produced, so over a 16-hour period the cabin required 787.5 million joules, or 49.218 million joules per hour. Diana needed to find 13.67 kilowatts for the greenhouse to operate effectively. Life support was out of the question. The now unusable radio had used up 27 watts. That wasn't a lot of help. By shutting off the navigation and communication subroutines in the computer they could save around 800 watts, but that also barely made a dent. Fuel pumps and valves had had 5 kilowatts allocated to them. Significant, but there were still 7.9 kilowatts to go. The cogs in Diana's head started to turn when she softly hit the floor of the hallway.

The Vuoto had 10 ion thrusters, each using a minimum of 3 kilowatts. They would have to shut off 3, an idea the captain would not like. It would put the Vuotos thrust off-axis as there was no gimble on the ion thrusters, but the more they'd shut off the further they'd drift outward. They could also only turn off two, but that would decrease the potential output of their crops. Joseph always stressed how getting home was their top priority and this would make their journey longer. Much longer.

>>Oh god, what will he think of me?<<

The thoughts lingering in the back of Diana's head had started poking through more frequently, but she kept pushing them aside, trying not to give them too much attention. Desperately trying.

In the cabin, Joseph was watering the berries when Diana flew in. "I hope you have some good news for me", he said more cheerfully than Diana had expected. He didn't look up from what he was doing, hovering on the would-be ceiling his face vanishing in the leaves. "I-", Diana was struggling for the right words, stumbling over her own tung as she tried to ignore the pain in her abdomen.

"I need power from 4 of our ion engines... Now, I know you want to limit our ti-"

"I trust you." The captain talked over her. "Do what you need to do." He was annoyed Diana interrupted him. Always on her feet, always wanting to change something, to improve the ship. The seeds had started to grow towards the centre of the room and he was testing the acidity of the soil again. Oh, and the tomato plants needed their leaves clipped. And he should trim the berry bushes. He grabbed the gardening scissors from his cargo pants and drifted over to the back wall with the vegetables. It was peaceful in the cabin and the plants needed him. Back on earth, when he was still living in that lakehouse with his daughters, he had dreamed of becoming a farmer. He could never scrape up enough money to lease the machines and the land, let alone buy them. But up yet here he was, needed for his gardening abilities. He collected the clipped leaves and slid them into the zip-lock bag taped to his belt. "Did you have a garden growing up, Diana?"

"We..." Diana tried to tear through the fog in her skull. "... the neighbours had planted some on the roof, but we never had a garden of our own, no."

"What a shame. I used to tell my daughters stories about rows upon rows of grape bushes and vast fields."

"It's... nice to have something to dream of", she muttered as she hovered in the door frame.

Diana had a bad gut feeling after she had left the captain in the chamber. She didn't know the captain very well, but she knew he didn't like space. He didn't like the void. What if he just wanted her off his ass? He could fix anything she'd screw up when she wasn't looking, Diana thought as she moved back to the control room. Her intercom device cracked. "Diana?" Alex's voice crawled through the speaker: "I need a second pair of eyes on this."

Two drones latched into one of the many asteroids in the belt and started chipping away at it, one by one shaping the debris into small, cubes-like structures, maybe 5 by 5 meters in size, which shot into the void, back towards the mother ship.

[proteportainternational]

The 2020 Tesla Model Y Proves How Far Behind The Rest Of The Auto Industry Still Is

My opinion of Tesla in recent years has been one hell of a roller-coaster ride. At first, I admired the company's fast, innovative electric cars; then I grew to hate CEO Elon Musk's constant Twitter shenanigans and nuclear takes on journalists and the media.

Then I drove a Model S, a Model X and a Model 3; the last one twice, actually, first a Standard Range, followed by a Performance model. I loved each one of them, mostly for what felt like cutting-edge technology, performance and a general sense of feeling different, the way Apple computers must have felt when they competed against the beige-box Windows PCs of the 1990s. Then, finally, I despised Tesla for inflicting owners with an innumerable amount of post-sales issues, including notoriously poor quality control.

I don’t know what’s worse between a paint job that peels off during the first winter, or door handles that refuse to operate properly during a cool Canadian morning; don't even get me started on the infamous panel gaps.

This year, Tesla is back with its most important car possibly ever: the Model Y. It's priced to sell in the ultra-important, ultra-popular, ultra-lucrative midsize crossover segment, smaller and cheaper than a Model X and without those problematic Falcon Doors. Unlike wild experiments like the forthcoming Cybertruck—if that even happens as-is—the Model Y is meant to be a major volume-seller, the car that keeps the bills paid. But it also needs to still be a Tesla, meaning fast, high-tech and a cut above all other EVs, long as you check expectations about quality at the normally-opening door.

Yet will the 2020 Tesla Model Y being plagued with build quality issues affect its desirability? Perhaps not. Because here’s the cold hard truth about Tesla: whether we like it or not, it’s still ahead of the curve. Way ahead. And the more I drive Tesla's cars, the sadder I feel about the rest of the auto industry.   2020 Tesla Model Y: By The NumbersBase Price (as Tested):  $43,690  ( $43,690  )Powertrain: Dual electric motor setup mounted on each axle, one permanent-magnet synchronous, one AC induction / 75 kWh batteryHorsepower: 384 hp (286 kilowatts)Torque: 376 lb-ft0-60 MPH:  4.7 secondsTop Speed: 136 mph (limited)Cargo Capacity: 68 cubic-feet rear with seats folded | 15 cubic-feet front (frunk)Quick Take: Still the most technological EV on sale, the most range in its class, the strangest EV on the market. Build quality remains an issue.But Y?The Model Y may share a platform and a lot of related parts with the Model 3, but it's poised to strike hard in a segment that’ll start boiling anytime between now and next year. As I write this, the Model Y’s only rivals are the Jaguar I-Pace and Audi e-tron. But come this fall, the Ford Mustang Mach-E could give the Y a run for its money. Nissan then plans on deploying the promising Ariya later in 2021, and finally, Cadillac will join the party with the Lyriq sometime in 2023.But why aren’t any of these models on the market yet? I’m asking the same question, which I’ll get back to in a bit. To take them all on, the Model Y (across all its trim levels) is powered by a 75-kWh battery pack powering two axle-mounted electric motors. The rear one, which is the car’s main source of propulsion, is Tesla’s own Permanent Magnet Switched Reluctance type, a fancy term to describe permanent magnets that are located within the rotor itself. These are, basically, more efficient than most electric motors currently on the market. The front motor is a more conventional induction-type layout—similar to what you get in a Chevrolet Bolt EV—providing high levels of torque at low speeds, but also more energy-hungry. This is why the Model Y is first and foremost rear-wheel-drive. The front motor kicks in only when you really need it. Total power output from this Dual Motor setup is rated at 286 kilowatts, or the equivalent of 384 horsepower and 376 lb-ft of torque. Tesla claims the entry-level Long-Range model (the one I tested) will hit zero to 60 mph in just under five seconds and that it will drive up to 310 miles on a single charge.Such specifications pulverize both the Jaguar I-Pace (234 miles) and Audi e-tron (204 miles). Only the upcoming Mach-E with the extended range package has a chance to compete against this Tesla. Perhaps more impressive is the Model Y’s 3,500-pound towing rating, which is a first in this category of vehicles. However, you do need to tick off a $1,000 Tow Hitch option to get it.Pricing for a 2020 Tesla Model Y kicks off at $43,690 USD (or $69,990 CAD) before applicable rebates, and will climb all the way to $53,690 USD for a much faster Performance model. Up here in Québec, where state-subsidized incentives are strong and EVs sell well, the Model Y is sadly not eligible for anything due to its high price tag.  (In case you’re curious: In Canada, EVs need to be under a starting MSRP of $55,000 CAD to receive any rebates, up to $13,000 in total. These incentives currently only apply to more affordable EVs like the Tesla Model 3 Standard Range Plus, Chevrolet Bolt EV and other similarly priced models.) Less 3 Than You’d Think It would be safe to assume that the Model Y is basically a slightly lifted hatchback version of a Model 3 sedan. That observation is only half right. While it does ride on the Model 3’s platform, the Model Y’s wheelbase was stretched by half an inch, leading to a 2.2-inch overall length difference. The Y is also 2.8 inches wider than the sedan on which it’s based. These dimensional changes, accompanied by the higher roofline and hatchback configuration, inevitably lead to a more spacious and practical cabin. Rear leg and headroom are no longer an issue like they can be in a Model 3, and total cargo space is rather spectacular, to say the least.For reference, when the rear seatbacks are folded down, the Model Y will engulf up to 68 cubic feet of your gear. Add to that an extra 15 cubes upfront due to the frunk and Tesla’s crossover beats both the Jag I-Pace (50 cu-ft) and the Audi e-tron (54 cu-ft) in cargo capacity. Even the Ford Mustang Mach-E can’t match this at 59.6 cu-ft rear / 4.8 cu-ft front. And while the Model Y is technically a five-seater, you can add a third row for a seven-seat interior. However, because the option costs $3,000, and that the seats themselves are tiny and eat up a fair amount of cargo space, I don’t recommend getting it.Except for what I just mentioned above, there aren’t many available options for a Model Y. Your choice of interior colors is limited to black or white. Tesla does include the standard Autopilot automated driving assistance technology, with the Full Self-Driving Capability feature remaining an $8,000 option. My tester didn’t have that one ticked off, which meant it had driver assist technology and not actual, fully autonomous driving. A reminder: no car has that. The FSD option includes some features supposedly coming down the road. It's your call if you have faith in that or not.  Come At Me, Muskbros Before I move onto my driving impressions, I will say that I was just as disappointed by this thing’s overall build quality as the Model 3’s. Among the manufacturing issues I noticed on my tester, which I obtained through the Turo ride-sharing app, was a passenger-side headlight that wasn’t properly aligned, a rear bumper that didn’t quite tuck in the same way on both sides of the car, a rear hatch that had a wider door-to-body gap on one side than the other, and some rubber moldings that felt they had been installed as afterthoughts. That the Model Y’s large center console is made out of cheap Dollarama-grade plastic is another huge letdown. Cabin noise was also very apparent during my drive, where squeaks and rattles kept disturbing the otherwise peaceful experience—it's all especially more noticeable with no engine to drown it out. The Model Y’s interior feels downright cheaply made, especially when you compare it to what the Germans or even the South-Koreans manufacture in this price bracket.Once strapped in, the now expected one-screen-controls-all setup stares at you robotically like HAL in the movie 2001: A Space Odyssey. In its defense, it’s a remarkably easy interface to comprehend. Granted, there is a learning curve, but the information isn’t cluttered like other systems, so it doesn’t take too much time to figure out where everything is. The screen also reacts quickly to your commands, the navigation map is clear and intuitive to use, and the overall interface is clean and attractive. I do feel Tesla’s latest vehicles deserve some physical controls, like mirror and steering wheel adjustments, or audio commands. Cycling through the screen to find them can at times be distracting, especially while driving.I did however enjoy how the car’s dashcam switches on the moment you hunk the horn. It’s a handy feature that allows you to grab some footage of the douchebag who just scraped off your front bumper. Forward visibility is excellent due to the absence of, well, a dashboard. So is overall comfort, especially up front where the seats provide ample lateral and back support. The rear seats are spacious, too, and offer ample head clearance for a big guy like me, but the seatbacks themselves are hard. You also sit upright back there. It is however possible to recline the seats, but they’re just never as comfortable as the ones upfront. The Model Y’s glass roof—which doesn’t open—gives way to a well-lit, airy cabin. On The Road When I say that Tesla is ahead of the competition, I don’t mean that it’s the first to market a 300-mile electric compact crossover. Or because it pioneered over-the-air software updates, an in-house fast-charging network or its own sales model that other car brands are just beginning to copy.No, Tesla is ahead of the curve due to the way it drives and how utterly efficient its drivetrains are compared to other EVs out there. Driving the Model Y captures Tesla’s technological dominance by the way it performs and manages its range. Although the industry now offers a wide choice of compelling EVs, I remain impressed by how smooth and instant Tesla’s motors feel.Unsurprisingly, the Model Y will launch itself out of the hole as fast as the best sports cars, but it’s the precision of its throttle pedal that’s truly astonishing. One simply needs to feather it for the vehicle to get up and go swiftly. It’s the kind of tactility that instantly infuses the driver with utmost confidence and control.  Releasing that pedal also unleashes Tesla’s excellent regenerative braking technology. While competing brands offer the possibility to modulate the recuperation system’s resistance, Tesla proves once more that two well-preconfigured settings suffice.About the Tesla Supercharger network: I didn’t really need to use it given the amount of range the Model Y has at its disposal. But it is handy if your area isn’t fitted with an established public charging grid. Where I live, there’s a public charger on every street corner, so Superchargers are kind of irrelevant. But it will allow you to grab 158 miles of range within only 15 minutes, so there’s that.That said, not having to rely on a charger was another realization that hit me hard as I blasted this compact crossover into highway onramps at speeds that would make a Porsche Macan Turbo blush: range anxiety is officially a thing of the past, folks. Battery technology is evolving so rapidly that we’ll soon get way more range than we actually need from an overnight charge. It’s a reality, that’s a lot closer than we think.Anyway, back to the driving experience. The Model Y, even in its most basic form, is fast, smooth and efficient. But that’s all expected from a Tesla. What I wasn’t ready for was how well it handles. Modern electric cars, generally speaking, all handle well due to the heavy battery pack that’s located down beneath their floor. This allows for an ultra-low center of gravity and near-perfect weight distribution. But up until now, the driving dynamics of most EVs, except perhaps the Jaguar I-Pace—an EV I once drove on a track like a bat out of hell—or the Porsche Taycan all feel a bit stale. The Model Y has a playful, tail-happy feel when it’s pushed hard to its limits. The Dual Motor setup somehow always prioritizes the rear motor, even though its original purpose was to be efficient and not performance-enhancing. Yet, it’s still willing to party.What I mean is that there’s actual rotation happening back there, which allows the Model Y to wag its tail if you really commit upon corner exit. Yet, it’s all very easy to correct. The steering is as precise as a Playstation controller, the levels of grip are immense, and the front wheels instantly kick in to provide the required amount of grip. It all happens so effortlessly that even an inexperienced driver will find the confidence necessary to throw this thing hard into a corner without fear of understeering into a ditch. The Verdict At this point, you’re probably wondering if the Tesla Model Y is worth your money. I’m going to say that yes, on many levels, this thing is worth every penny, even if it’s expensive. But you also need to know what you’re getting into when buying a Tesla. I say this because, in my immediate orbit, I know two Tesla Model 3 owners who are victims of bad paint, and Tesla is currently doing nothing to help them. Imagine the frustration of paying nearly 50 grand for a luxury sport sedan only to see it shed its skin the following spring.I do hear, however, that Tesla’s aftersales service is improving, and that appointments with service rangers—essentially Tesla repair people who come straight to your home—are made quickly and without too much hassle. I hear they even fix panel gaps. But don’t expect Lexus levels of craftsmanship, here. Tesla still has a lot of homework to do in this regard. But the truth of the matter is that nobody, and I mean nobody, currently sells something that directly competes against a Model Y. And that’s a little worrying for the rest of the auto industry. The phrase "Tesla-killer" or "Tesla-fighter" has been common in headlines about legacy automakers and startups alike; still, no one has come at this king yet.Perhaps Ford has a chance with the Mach-E. At least, on paper, it seems like a viable contender. But could it be too little too late? I mean, Tesla sold over 160,000 Model 3s in the US alone last year. Can this oddball Mustang be any sort of a volume-seller the way the Model Y is destined to be? I find that unlikely. But if anything, it’s only the start of things to come. When Nissan unveiled the Ariya electric crossover last month, I remember saying “finally, something innovative from Nissan!” for the first time in years, but then I was highly disappointed by its release date of late 2021 on our market. And don’t get me started on the Cadillac Lyriq. After months of shoving down our throats that its “innovative” Ultium battery would be the Android answer to Tesla’s Apple, GM unveiled an odd-looking concept car with unofficial range numbers and no actual specifications. Worse even was when Cadillac said all we’d only see the damn thing in the flesh in three years. Three years, GM. Really?You see, what the entire auto industry needs to understand with its EV promises and shady concept cars is that Tesla is here now. Tesla is selling. And Tesla is ahead. And the more it waits before releasing its products, the harder it’ll be for them to take on what was not long ago just a little California startup. Font: The Drive

[godyoutalkpretty]

Happy Birthday Marty Deeks

They arrived home late. Today had been… long. And rough. And stressful. So, all in all, a typical Marty Deeks birthday.

As soon as the pair inserted their keys into the lock, the metal jingling gently, there came a yelp and a bark from the other side of the door, and the madcap scraping of paws on hard floor. Monty whined as Kensi unlocked the door, pushed it open, and then moved aside so that the ancient mutt could race right passed her and throw himself at Deeks. She let a small smile play on her lips; she’d been in that exact same situation herself more than a few times, especially after a particularly troublesome case, and knew that there were few things in the world that soothed her quite like the embrace of her boyfriend/partner/best friend. Well… maybe a reality TV marathon, a beer, and an artery clogging takeaway. But those things were all definitely at the top of her list.

The threesome made their way into the living room, Kensi tossing her stuff roughly onto the couch and then following it a second later with an “Oof” of satisfaction.

“I’ll say this,” said Deeks as he collapsed by her side, “my birthdays are never boring.”

“Oh, is it your birthday?” Kensi asked, schooling the smirk that fought its way towards her features. “You’ve only mentioned it three or four times. A day. For the last week and a half.”

“Well, I didn’t want anyone to forget it,” he said.

She gave him a look. “I didn’t forget your birthday,” she said. There was a small pause. “This year.”

“I just say,” he continued with a soft chuckle, “because everyone else, you know, they already gave me their gifts today. I mean, Sam got me a survival guide book – which I know you’ll probably get more use out of.”

“Yeah, there weren’t many chapters on paleo diets for disaster situations”

“And Callen, he got me a potted fern, which to be honest looks a little down already; you and he must share the same green finger gene. The wonder twins got me some sex wax for my board. Granger… well, he made comments about how he pays my wages so that should be enough. And Hetty got me a nice tea set, but I get the feeling she only got that so I could make tea. For her.”

Kensi cocked her head at him. “There seems to be a point to all this.”

“It’s just that my girlfriend says she didn’t forget my birthday again, but…”

“I got you a gift, Deeks, don’t worry.”

He grinned, then held out his hands expectantly.

“It’s me,” Kensi said, with a huge grin. “I’m your gift. I’m the gift that keeps on giving.”

He gave her a lopsided grin in return. “You are at that,” he said.

“Oh, but look, you’re all upset face.”

“I’m not - I’m not upset.”

“I know your upset face Deeks. You’re much prettier when you smile, so…” She reached over the back of the couch, grabbing the small box that she’d planted there earlier in the day, then handed it to him. His beautiful blue eyes widened, and a gigantic smile beamed from his features. He was so handsome when he smiled like that.

Deeks held the tiny box for a moment in his hands, then his eyebrows lowered. “It’s very small,” he said.

“Open the damn box, Deeks,” she said.

“Have been trying for three years,” he muttered, and she snorted a laugh, rolling her eyes at him. Carefully, Deeks peeled back the meagre wrapping paper, blue like his eyes, to reveal a very small cardboard box inside. He looked at it quizzically, then up at Kensi, and she gave him a soft nod of encouragement. He opened the box, and blinked in surprise.

“This was in my jeans,” he said, drawing out the silver engagement ring and holding it between his fingers.

“And then it was in that box there. And now…” she said, wiggling the fingers of her left hand before him.

He gave a small smirk, still surprised. “You’re sure?”

“Yes, Deeks,” she said, rubbing the bare spot on her third finger impatiently with the pad of her thumb. “I will marry you.”

He broke into another kilowatt bright smile, and slipped the ring onto her finger. It slid on effortlessly, like it had always meant to be there. Kensi stared at it for a long moment, watching as the light reflected and danced on the band and the diamond. Then she reached out with her other hand, grabbed Deeks by the scruff of his collar, and hauled him in for a kiss.

By the time they were finished, they were both panting roughly, their skins bright red and their hairs messy – well, Deeks’ slightly more than usual. Kensi’s heart was beating solidly in her chest, and every inch of her body felt alive. She stared at the ring again, then at Deeks.

“Happy birthday, Marty Deeks,” she said. “I told you your gift was me.”