#if i'm buying a new car i would prefer it be my fault if some guy drives it away

[sukimas]

the fucked up thing about driving a car from 1996 is even if i had the money to get a replacement at this point i wouldn't because a.) i want electric if i'm going to get a new car and b.) no electric vehicle 1. is japanese therefore has the right internal form factor for short bitches and 2. has the same sedan/sports car hybrid thing the '96 maxima has going on except for the toyota mirai. and fucking lol hydrogen fuel cell cars

[skyeslittlecorner]

Promised Land - Andrealphus

You know what, I'm sorry. It was supposed to be three times shorter. I swear. My hand slipped. I have no idea how it got so big. No proofreading, plus I'm sure there will be some awkwardness because English is not my native language. SFW.

I wish everyone who is brave enough to read it to have a nice time!

Words: ~5365

Part one summary: You, the reader, managed to talk to Andrea through the game. He realized that apart from the MC, there was someone behind the screen.

Other parts: On the other side | Promised Land | Point to point | Love is blind (18+)

꧁:･ ✡ ･:꧂

First, you were fired from a job. Then you tripped on a walker, cracked the head, and ended up in the hospital. But the worst of it all was that you destroyed your phone. Everything was gone. With barely enough savings to pay your rent, you couldn't afford a new one. Drunk with desperation, you even asked a friend to install the game on her phone just to see if the account was saved. Account - yes. But what you valued most is gone.

Andrealphus didn't hear you.

You couldn't even tell anyone about it. Crazy, that's what they'd say. They thought work was your biggest worry, but it was only almost biggest. For two weeks, the longing had been so overwhelming that you could do nothing but cry into your pillow. Stupid? Maybe. Stupid was that you lost him through your own fault and in such a simple way. You would love to get rid of these feelings. The problem was that you couldn't.

The Promised Land was a three-hour drive from the city and at first glance looked like a combination of Disneyland and a shamanic capital. All you could see were the outlines of high roller coasters, a barrel, and other strange death apparatuses that you had only agreed to visit to ease your’s friend remorse. She suddenly realized that she had been ignoring you because of her new boyfriend and wanted to make it up to you. At first, you were excited. Then it turned out that all three of you were going. Apparently, her car broke down. What a sad coincidence, her boyfriend’s car remains.

Watching the amusement park from the backseat of the SUV, Liminal Land came to your mind. You have always been interested in AR. Parallel worlds, virtual reality, interconnections, such nonsense. Nonsense… That's probably why you had the impression for a few weeks that the guy from the game talked with you. Maybe it was all a dream? You must have imagined it out while you were having a bad time, drinking coffee with energy drinks, trying to keep up with work that you got fired anyway. A defensive reaction of the brain or something.

And yet you still felt like you had lost somebody close.

꧁:･ ✡ ･:꧂

It was exactly as you thought. The couple in love disappeared from sight about half an hour after buying tickets and walking through the gate. They probably followed the cashier's advice and visited Stargrazer, a large building that reminded you of the Avisos casino. Apparently you got tokens there. They could be exchanged for prizes, rides, and more. You preferred to go to the other attractions first so as not to run into the lovebirds. Tall garden clocks that resembled lamps showed ten o'clock. Armed with a VIP pass, you promised yourself to have fun, at least for today. Despite this, you involuntarily returned your hand to your purse to touch the damaged phone. Somehow it felt warm. That hit on the head must have been really hard to still have effects.

After all, throwing yourself into the attractions and completing half of them, ending with three rounds of a sick water rollercoaster in a row… was not the best idea. It was almost lunchtime. Or at least it should be, because you were getting hungry even though the time on the watches had barely moved. That was weird. You could clearly see the hands moving, but when you looked away and returned, it showed ten o'clock again.

To calm your stomach, you sat on a bench and looked at the people around you. They also were weird, but positively weird. Freaks of all designs and colors, cosplayers, but also amateurs. Somewhere you saw One Piece and Dragon Ball, and now crossdressed Elsa in a fur cape was talking to a biblically accurate angel. They moved away towards the administration, probably belonged to the staff. Extraordinary craftsmanship.

The park was mostly for adults, but a lot of them were with children. Too bad, they could have left them in the mini-park that was apparently set aside somewhere at the other end of the place. Their running only made you more dizzy. The smell of pizza from the stand next door didn't help either.

Evacuating yourself from all the stimuli, you stood in front of a large block, which was apparently the biggest attraction. Stargrazer was a gigantic, purple and blue structure that looked like a club from the outside. Through the arch with neon lights in the shapes of comets and planets, dozens of people entered the huge hall. The whole place was enormous. There seemed to be no walls or even a ceiling. People on other levels walked on balconies, and at the top - on a dark glass surface that lit up with every step, making the "ceiling" look like a sky with shining stars. Dozens of stands were scattered on the left and right. People occupied lanes that looked like some kind of bowling pins, glass mini-mazes, and slot machines. Walking through the middle, you moved further and further away from the sunlight, guided by the dim light of LED lights and games that you had never really seen in your life. Everyone seemed to know the rules.

Something crashed into you with full force.

"I'm sorry, ma'am!"

"It’s okay…"

A short teenager gave you an apologetic smile and ran away, holding a white thistle in his hands. It looked like a many-pointed star or a sharp spike. Many people won the same objects. When unfolded, they resembled stars and gave off light, but they could be twisted, folded into a cube the size of a thumb, and placed in a pocket. They appeared to be tokens that could be redeemed for prizes. When you looked behind the boy, you saw him lining up at the checkout at the entrance.

"Are you sure everything is fine?"

This time, the little girl stood in front of you, watching intently. She had fair skin and golden hair, and with blue eyes she looked like an angel. There was a badge on her chest. It resembled employee ID badges, but was clearly written in a child's handwriting: "Hi! My name is Mia and I work here with dad!"

It seemed that her parent took her to work here often enough that she felt the need to help customers herself, because she started explaining the rules of the games. She was nicer company than you thought, as you slowly walked deeper and deeper into the building. You weren't having much luck with games and didn't care about tokens, just wanted to try out the games. When the star finally rolled out of the slot, you turned to Mia.

"It's for you." You gave her a star.

"For me…"

She looked shocked, turned the item over in her hands like a treasure. You didn't know she would be so happy; with VIP pass you didn't need tokens anyway, just came to calm down a bit. Despite the multitude of people, the place seemed calmer and the voices were muffled. Maybe it was some space special effects.

As you were walking to the next stand, the explosion blew you off your feet.

Everything happened at once. Thrown against the wall like a rag doll, you felt every part of the body being torn apart by pain. You've gone deaf. Breathless. Shards of glass fell from the sky like rain, beautifully shining, deadly raindrops. Conscious enough to cover your eyes, you raised hands. The skin was cut by sharp edges.

The ringing in the ears turned into a wailing alarm. You felt torn apart, but all your limbs were in place. Not everyone was so lucky. Dozens of people, scattered on the floor and against the walls, lay motionless. Some bloody. Not everything was visible through the thick layer of dust. Also, images reached your eyes, but not mind. What happened?

You don't know if it was a second or an hour before you regained some sort of consciousness. To your left, a pair of men weren't getting up, but to your right, a girl who stood next to you earlier was clinging and shaking. Her eyes were as big as cup saucers, and blood and tears were mixing on a dainty face.

"Hey, your head. This looks bad." You heard your own voice, although you still felt unreal, as if everything around you didn't exist. Ultra-real VR. Especially the pain.

She flinched as you took the torn piece of her shirt and tied it around her temple.

"Th-these…are they terrorists?" She uttered, sobbing.

You looked around. The explosion threw you behind the games, away from the center of the hall. She had a better view, as two gaming machines fell in front of you, effectively blocking the view. When you looked out from behind them, sure enough, there were some people walking around… with guns. White uniforms and fur coats. They seemed to be combing the gigantic place starting from the other end. Not many of them, but would there be many terrorists? They chased away the rest of the people, took the conscious ones inside the destroyed building, and the unconscious ones…

You didn't want to see this. You didn't want to end up like that, either. Until they haven't found you, you had a chance. Whoever it was had bad intentions.

"Let's go." As you sat up, dizziness hit you, but luckily the legs worked. It's worse with the hands. The left one you covered yourself with was bleeding so profusely that all your clothes on your chest and stomach were red. Luckily, the blood was only leaking lazily now, not as heavily, but you still felt sick watching it.

The girl wasn't lucky either. Her leg was bent at an odd angle, at best it was broken. She whimpered as you helped her up. Someone turned off the alarm. Now the only sounds were the shifting of rubble. The soldiers were unnaturally quiet, as if they did not need words to communicate. It scared you. Despite everything, Mia had more courage, she bit her lip to keep quiet.

There were many alcoves with doors along the wall, and every other one had an "exit" sign above it. Fire exits. In some, you could hear the sound of sprinklers firing through the thick smoke following the explosion. The air was hard to breathe. You glided slowly, leaning against the wall, helping the girl bounce forward. Every step took forever. Only the adrenaline in the veins kept you running.

Strange soldiers were getting closer. As you trudged through the alley, you could hear machines moving nearby. Cleaned rubble. Whistle of the blade that will stay with you forever. You had two final turns to get out of the trap when someone ran right into you.

"R-run!" A distressed woman in bloody clothes squealed. She grabbed your hand. You screamed in pain and jumped back. "There's their boss over there! He kills! He’ll kill you!"

She ran further down the corridor. Your hand, torn by the glass and moved by her, burst out with a fresh dose of blood. Pain was awful. Black spots danced before the eyes, if only you could take a breath… The little girl leaning on your shoulder began to sob. It brought you back to life. The strange woman run again, and must have bumped into the soldiers because you heard her scream.

Boss. Angelic boss. The best options you could think of were immediate death from Gabriel's scythe. As for the others, maybe Michael would take pity and cut your head off quickly. Raphael… Well… Fortunately, there was no time to think about it.

In front of you was a bend in the hall and on your left was the door to the bathroom. You pressed the doorknob, they gave way. The intact, white room smelling of lavender, that would have been completely normal half an hour ago, looked like science fiction when you were surrounded by chaos and destruction. Behind a series of sinks and mirrors, the only ones that were cracked, there was a second door leading to an outside corridor. You hid in one of the cabins.

"Listen." You crawled together and helped her lean against the wall. "I'll check if it's still safe and come get you, okay? This "boss" doesn’t sound good."

You had no other choice, and you both knew it.

"But promise you'll come back." The little one tried to hold on, but it didn't work out well. "Promise…"

"I swear."

You felt sorry for her. Alone. Little. She didn't even have a way to escape with her crushed leg. But if there really was another danger ahead of you, you wouldn't stand a chance anyway. You didn't even have a place to hide and wait, because the storage compartment in the cabin where you left Mia was too small for the two of you.

But why were the Seraphim here? Didn't they have better things to do? You already guessed why the clocks weren't working. It is a space like the "New Heaven" in Gehenna created by the Cherubim. Here, a lot of innocent people were caught in angelic inner games.

Carefully, you poked your head out. The last corridor left to exit was long and wide. Debris was falling from the stairwells at regular intervals, but it was possible to walk through them. Two people ran down and towards the exit, or at least they tried to, before someone got in their way.

Now you knew the woman wasn't lying, and realized what the strange fur coats were. It's not fur. They're feathers. A chill ran down your spine because what you saw before the eyes was unreal. A tall man stood with his back to you, with the wing and a halo. With a shining scythe, he blocked the path of two terrified people.

You knew this man. Angel’s boss, she said? You felt a stupid urge to laugh out loud, along with a stone that suddenly weighed heavily on your heart.

"Wait!"

The scream left your mouth before any thought even reached the brain. The hand that was preparing to strike froze in the air, and you had the impression that you felt a gust of air that was supposed to accompany the slash. Regret hit you faster than a train. Legs felt like running away. It was a mistake. Now this scythe will be aimed at you. But he just turned around and stared blankly at you.

Now that he turned around, you had a clear view of all the details. A black suit, perfectly fitted to a muscular body. A long braid decorated with bloody feathers and powerful horns, curled like a ram's and made of black segments like dragon scales. A handsome, long face and muddy eyes, decorated with scars. Black leather gloves on his hands that held the huge weapon as easily as a child's toy. And a luminous scythe. Which was now aiming for your throat.

"Who are you?"

"I…" Is it possible? Does he remember? Were your conversations even yours, or was it really AI? You almost stopped breathing, squinting.

"Uh… I'm… I'm human. You wouldn't hurt a human. Right?"

If your conversations weren't real, your name would do him no good. But if it was the real Andrealphus, the one you knew, the one you love, he wouldn't have hurt an innocent man. But… why was he targeting those people, then?

He flinched when he heard your voice.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came with friends…"

"No. What are you doing here? My…" He trailed off. "It's not safe. You have to get out of here."

Oh, that was all you wanted right now. But the chaos in your head didn't allow you to think clearly. After all, about three minutes ago you were the victim of a terrorist attack, and now you were standing in front of a fictional guy you were in love with. Even separately this is too much!

"A strange woman ran… into me and said, well… That you are the boss of the angels. And you murder people."

"Humans? You're the first human I've ever met. As for the other part…" The grip on the scythe style tightened.

"Those two you were aiming at also were."

He frowned and tilted his head as if to look over his shoulder. Of course, they were no longer there, but you were sure you didn't see any wings on them, unlike the soldiers in the main hall.

"They had an angelic aura about them."

Any further discussion had to wait because you heard footsteps in the hall. He was redy to fight, but you were not. You dragged him into the bathroom.

"They were humans. There's something wrong with this place. Maybe he's irradiating us or something."

"If so, I should also see you."

Your voices turned to whispers as footsteps passed down the hall. You knew he could ‘see’ the glow of the outlines of angels, but not ordinary humans or devils. He was relying on other senses and sensations you didn't understand. It didn't fully replace sight, but it helped, especially in hunting.

"I'll show you another human. We'll see then, okay?"

You got back to Mia faster than you thought. She was happy to see you, but when she saw Andrealphus she screamed and pushed herself deeper into the corner. He didn't look happy either.

"Hello, little one."

Andrea knelt down next to the girl. Even if he looked confused, his voice was firm and gentle. He was really talking to the child. The girl moved away and covered her eyes with her hand as if to defend herself.

"Your friend says you have no wings. Is it true?"

"Ye…yes."

"I’m blind. Let me feel it."

He warned before extending his hand. His hand wandered over her shoulder, but all he found was air and a cold wall. He frowned.

"I told you, she’s not an… what are you doing!" You shouted, seeing how he takes out small pistol from under his jacked. You froze, but he just placed the gun on the girl's lap. His past came to your mind; you wondered if he thought about what would happen if he had a gun when he met Rafael as a little boy. In his own way, it seemd that he was trying to protect another child from this fate. Save from helplessness.

You felt a twist of pain in your stomach. He trusted you. He must have remembered you. Why else would he believe you enough to give the creature he thought was an angel a weapon?

"You have to have something to defend yourself with." He stood up and turned towards you. "Let's go."

"We?" You glanced towards the door. "I will be a burden. Let me sneak out the back door."

"The building is fully guarded, you are safest with me. Besides, you got your eyes intact. Since the aura is crazy here, I don't want to hurt anyone innocent."

Andrea placed the scythe on his shoulder. A hand extended towards you, a serious look on a scarred face.

"Please, be my sight. Guide me."

Your heart skipped a beat. Even your vision went dark, although maybe it was the result of blood loss. Never mind. You accepted his hand. It was rough and strong, you could feel the tiny scars under your fingers; exactly how you imagined a soldier's hand. He smiled so softly that your legs went weak beneath you. He caught you in half before you fell.

Okay, maybe it was the blood loss after all.

You slowly straightened up and leaned against your broad chest, taking a few deep breaths. Wounds didn't hurt as much anymore, but slowly you slowly lose feeling in your hand. It just went limp. You didn't even have time to admire his warmth, his scent, because your stupid body refused to obey.

"You're bleeding."

"Don't worry… I'll be fine. It's already better." You tried to sound like everything was alright. Maybe not well enough for him to move away, but enough for him not to worry. Judging by his face, it didn't work. His grip on your waist tightened.

"I would take you to Nilfheim, but those damn portals stopped working…" He muttered to himself.

You didn't expect to hear such a note in his voice. Care? Anxiety? This was unlike the stoic devil you knew. And if the portals weren't working…

"How did you get here then?"

"We have other ways. Your phone."

"But it's ruined."

"It didn't matter. It previously acted as an interdimensional mirror, so I could have used it as a reference."

That was enough revelation for you. Whatever happened, you just wanted to rest. With Andrea, of course.

"Please. Let's just get out of here."

You decided it would be better to go through the main hall. If you don't manage to sneak by sideways, it will be easier for Andrealphus, with his huge scythe, to fight in a larger area. That's why you left Mia too. He felt her just like the angels. Only recognizing their aura, he couldn't distinguish most of them; he would have killed her by pure accident, aiming at someone else. You preferred to avoid it.

Leaning on the devil, letting him hold you by your waist, you limped into the main hall. Most of the angels had already dispersed, the dust had settled, only human bodies and dirty blood stains were lying here and there. Seeing this, your nausea only increased. A few surviving soldiers were wandering among the machines, picking something up from among the rubble. You saw sparkles in their hands. Were they star tokens?

Before you could think twice, you felt a tug on your waist. Andrea stopped. The scythe was aimed at the man in front of you.

"I can?"

He asked politely, as if he wanted to pull out a chair in front of you rather than waiting for permission to murder. A lump stuck in your throat. The man did indeed have white wings and a halo, but instead of a soldier’s uniform he wore a blue one. You recognized that long blond hair; you've seen him before.

"It's… someone from the staff, I guess."

"Do not kill me!" He begged. "I can't do anything to you, I was just… looking…"

He tried to move away, but Andrea wrapped his scythe around the man like an arm. The weapon touched the wings. Demon felt it and growled throatily.

There was a screech behind you.

"Leave him!"

Another problem. You glanced behind; Mia, propped up on a broom, had to limp quietly tracing you. She aimed the small gun at Andrea's back. Would the bullet hurt him? You did not know. But his face hardened. The angels that had been roaming around the building heard you and began to gather around. In a wide semicircle, with their weapons drawn, they observed the horned intruder.

Andrealphus was silent. Waited. He could have killed them. He would do it easily, without breaking a sweat; but still, something held him back. You guessed what it was about. When he gave the girl the gun earlier, he didn't expect it to be pointed at him.

In a scene he couldn't get out of his mind, he became the one he hated the most.

"You're not like him." You whispered and placed your hand on his hand where he held the scythe.

He slowly moved her away from the man. Mia walked past you and threw herself into her father's arms. This didn't solve the problem; if he didn't want to kill them, he couldn't fight. Having to take care of you on top of that, his hands were tied.

The number of angels only increased. More and more of them came, crawling through the rubble, appearing on balconies as if waiting for the first move. They surrounded you, but it could just as easily have been the flies surrounding the dragon. Lowest angels and a devilish noble. He would have chopped them to pieces if it weren't for his only weakness - and that weakness was you.

You felt worse and worse, but a crazy idea came to your head.

"Trust me." You asked so quietly that even you didn't hear your words, but you hoped he did, and pushed him away. "Finally! I brought him as Raphael ordered. Do with him whatever you want now! Dad, let’s come out."

Everyone was moved by this name. Just as you thought. You couldn't read anything on Andrea's face, and you didn't want to because you felt like a traitor. The angels took your shout as an order. They attacked straight ahead. If this was a trap for the noble set by the Seraphin, they must have managed to kill him, right?

Mia's father, whom you bumped into, helped you walk. He supported both you and his daughter as you walked to the exit. Did you feel safe? No. But the angels evaded you. They must have assumed that, like Mia, you were half-angel. They parted as you walked on soft legs… and a moment later wet sounds of blood splashing and flesh being torn apart filled the entire hall. Andrea was chopping up angels. Yes, that's him. It must be him. Not the other way around.

You have no idea how you got out of the building, but when you felt the fresh air, you fell to your knees. You were overwhelmed by helplessness and pain. The earth was swirling, full of black spots. It's happened before, you could walk. You just needed a moment to gather your strength. And probably you would have made it if you hadn't seen movement out of the corner of your eye. Hand and stone. Your head erupted in pain before you passed out.

꧁:･ ✡ ･:꧂

When you opened your eyes again, the light blinded you. White ceiling, walls a sickly blue shade that looked as if someone had smeared soap on them instead of paint. The smell of cleaning products and medicines. Your stomach lurched. You knew this place so well, but it was two weeks ago. After all, so much has happened since the accident. After all… Andrea.

You felt nauseous, looking around the room with your heart in your throat; drip, bedside table with glass full of water, large window letting in the evening light. Behind the mirror in the corridor stood a couple of people, whose voices could be heard through the door ajar. They had an argument. You groaned, rubbing your aching head. Collecting thoughts was so hard.

It couldn't all have been a dream. His voice. His touch. You remembered it too clearly. Panic was rising in your chest, especially when you heard a sleepy voice from the hall. Words like 'coma', 'memory impairment' and 'you have to be understanding' brought tears to your eyes. Whole body hurt. The greatest pain spread slowly through the chest, stabbing and burning, as if someone had inserted a hot blade and was circling in a open wound.

People are dying. Their brain, in an act of self-defense, can invent their entire life in a split second. Some woke up in the hospital thinking they had a wife and children, only to find out they hadn't finished school yet. Was this the case? Did you make this all up? You were on the verge of life anyway, so your stupid brain decided to trick you and give you hope? Hot tears filled your eyes. How could you be so stupid? Why did you believe?

Before you burst into tears, a few more words came through.

"She keeps waking up and falling asleep… Is there any point in going in there?"

"Leave it. I doubt she heard anything."

Your friend and her boyfriend. Someone responded with a snort, the voices fading. Or maybe it was the throbbing pain that swirled your head like a blender. You cried silently. One of the silhouettes outside the window straightened up as if paralyzed and shot towards the door.

You didn't know if your brain was playing tricks on you or if you were completely crazy, when he appeared in the doorway.

This scarred, yet handsome face and long red braid, you’d recognize them even at the end of the world. He looked uncertain. As if he himself was suffering. In casual clothes, simple jeans and blue checkered shirt, he looked so normal you nearly believed that it’s just a human resembling him. But despite the lack of a halo and wings, his head was decorated with majestic, dark horns.

"You liar…"

Even his voice matched perfectly. Shock drew back the tears. Is it…?

You didn't have time to think. In the current state, thinking wasn't your strongest trait anyway. He sat down next to you, slender fingers first landing on your shoulder and then moved to your face.

"You awful, dishonest, intelligent woman. If I knew…"

You could barely feel the gentle touches of fingertips. Despite terrible words, he was so careful, as if he were examining a work of art and not your broken skin. Although, his smile made you feel like a masterpiece. Before you could utter a greeting, he found your mouth, and not with fingers. The touch of hot lips was even more tender and ticklish than his palms. Shaky breath leave his lips, before you could hear a faint whisper.

"I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t want, if… If I had known…"

No. This was not something you expected to hear. Sealing those sweet lips with yours, you purred.

"Are you sorry for kissing me or for saving my life?"

"For risking it in the first place!"

"You’re a devil. I’d be disappointed if you wouldn’t."

You chuckled, seeing him frowning, as if he wanted to scold you but couldn’t. It was a mistake. A new dull pain erupted in your wounded head. Did it matter? The pain in a chest suddenly subsided. Life started to make more sense. Even the color on the walls stopped being soapy and became a beautiful blue.

"How did I get here?"

"This… angel." He spat the word like it was the worst insult. "He hit you, patched you up, and left you in a back alley. He said he couldn't take you with him, and you'd be safer unconscious. I found you not much later. Human services arrived, and I convinced them to deal with you first. And they better do it right."

"What happened to him? With Mia?"

"She’s safe. And him… He didn’t have to hit you, but he did. I didn’t have to let him live…" He felt your tense expression and tilted his head. "But I did."

You sighed with relief. It was a step in a good direction.

"Although without a hand that hit you."

…well, quite a small step. You didn't want to dwell on it, you can do the next steps together. In less intense circumstances. Since the portals weren't working…

"I now know why I felt angels everywhere."

"Why?"

"They really weren't disguised. Unable to get rid of their aura around people, they used tokens, those stars, to make all the humans resemble their aura. Without the tokens, I couldn’t see you. It's even better. I don't want to see you if it means you'll look like an enemy. You are wonderful in the way you laugh, move, think. I'm glad I know you deeper than just your outer shell." He kept playing and stroking gently your face. "Although I'm sure you would shine not deadly, but beautifully."

You held his hand, you heard his voice. Time passed, and you didn't have the strength to speak, but he still kept you company. You could listen and listen. With your eyes closed, you hugged the hand cupping your face and felt like you could stay like that forever. It was worth being neatly torn apart to finally be able to meet him. For the first time, you didn't feel longing. Only warmth.

[kotav]

DO YOU PREFER TAKING RISKS OR HAVING A SAFETY NET?

♡k 09/14/2024-09/17/2024

I preferred having a safety net for a really long time. I think in a lot of cases, you should always have a safety net especially as someone who grew up poor. But sometimes you can't always have a safety net.

For example, since moving out on my own, I’ve been taking the risk of getting over my anxiety and fear of driving. The more I practice driving, the less nervous and scared I am after each lesson. I feel excited getting behind the wheel now and going faster (the legal limit) than what I’ve done before each lesson. I still can’t believe I went faster than 50mph. I can’t believe I even touched 60!! (edit: 09/17/2024, I drove on the freeway for the first time)

A year ago, I wouldn’t even have dreamed of going any faster than 20mph. Learning how to drive has taught me that I am in control of myself and my situation. I have overcome the biggest obstacle of my life and as I continue to practice driving, I feel like I could do anything! I hope in 2 months, I will be so comfortable driving that I can, not only finally take my driver's test, but also go out on my own without fear, worry having to save for rides for the week or even waiting on someone to bring me to places! (ex., ubers/lyfts and friends/family helping me run errands)

I hesitated taking the initiative to practice driving for so long for many reasons that slowly snowballed into avoiding it completely up until this point. One of the main reasons was my fear of getting into a car crash. I believe it rooted from my childhood and teenage years from hearing my immediate and extended family getting into accidents (either it be their fault or the other driver involved). It's also expensive for the permit test(s), driving lessons, getting to and from the driving lessons and/or DMV, taking the driver's test(s) and the potential expenses of having and maintaining a car.

Don't get me wrong, I'm still worried but it's more of a financial worry now. I feel way more confident driving compared to 6 months ago and I believe I will get better as I continue to practice driving but I have to learn to accept the fact that I will owe and possibly be in debt to something or someone to have and maintain certain things in life such as a car and/or being a homeowner. I've always been afraid to be in debt and owe money. I have a "if I can't buy it in full, I can't have it" mindset. I grew up poor.

Driving doesn't really have a safety net option because although I would like to avoid getting into an accident, coming across car problems and owing a large amount of money, it's bound to happen whether I like it or not. I must decide if I want to swim or drown because either way it'll be hard but in the long run of having the ability to drive, it'll help make things easier for myself rather than not having my license at all.

Some times you have to jump the gun and go for it. You never know what it'll bring you and I hope having the ability to drive will bring me lots of opportunities in life that I would never have dreamed of a year ago (ex., new career opportunities, independence, freedom and new life experiences.)!

(edit: 09/17/2024, I came across this Instagram reel and thought it was relevant)

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[alsjeblieft-zeg]

471 of 2023

When’s the last time you ate bread?

Last week or so.

What’s the last movie you watched on your own?

Ew, movies. None.

What about the last movie you watched with another person?

Look above.

How many coats do you own?

None, but I have three jackets. One is for rain.

What about shoes?

Too many lol. Boots and sneakers only.

One word to describe your most recent ex?

Wonderful.

Where, in your current country, would you like to live, other than where you do now?

Back in Middelkerke. I love my hometown.

Do you like snow?

Nah, I hate it. Snow is good only for Christmas.

Do you like sheer clothing?

For a goth look, it's awesome.

Have you ever seen anyone famous in the street?

No, but I was close lol.

Are you hungry right now?

Nah, I'm just having some Peppies.

Are you regularly tired?

Yeah. It's a result of past stroke and a side effect of my medication, both combined.

What was the last thing to upset you?

My cold lol. Sore throat is uncomfortable.

How’s the weather been today?

overcast, but rather warm.

What was the first tattoo you got or what would be the first tattoo you’ll get?

Splatter radiation warning symbol on my right forearm, back in 2018.

What was the last store you went into and did you buy anything?

Delhaize and yes, I bought some sushi and fresh fruit.

Have you ever been late for school or work?

Yeah, not intentionally. Typically as a result of failing public transport lol, I'm telling you, De Lijn is a joke.

Do you prefer to shower in the morning or at night?

Both. I do it twice a day.

What is your favourite kind of fruit cobbler?

I don't even know what cobbler is.

Is there a basement in your house? If so, what is it used for?

No, there's no basement here.

Have you driven a car today?

I don't have a licence.

Do you have a small, medium or large bedroom?

Small, but I like it.

Where was your first job and how old were you?

16, I was picking fruits in the fruit season. For the 'real' job, I was a student and doing part-time job cleaning in the local library.

Have you eaten soup this week?

Yup, a pea soup.

Are you a fan of The Office?

Never seen a single episode.

When was the last time you started a new medication?

At the beginning of this year, I started lamotrigine.

What is your favourite type of nut?

Hexagonal nut . I win.

Do you know anyone who doesn’t have a middle name?

Plenty of people. My dad is one of the examples.

Have you put your phone on silent today?

It's always on silent.

Can you name all 50 US state capital cities?

No and honestly, I couldn't care less. It's enough that I can name European capital cities.

Do you read John Green novels?

I've started The Fault in Our Stars, srill didn't finish.

Have you ever been to Universal Studios?

No, and I don't care.

Can you tie balloons?

Not anymore. My hand doesn't really deal with it.

When was the last time you were at a pet store?

In July, I bought a new water bowl for our cats.

[chelleztjs18]

Good morning and happy Thanksgiving eve hahaha 😅

I am doing okay, tired even though I had enough sleep. how are you?

I think that's what I've been buying lately, just clothes. Either new shirts or new shoes. When I was younger, I would always ask for Legos (even now) but I haven't bought a set in awhile because I never know where to display it.

Do you like presents that come from the heart then? Like something handmade?

Thats how me and my ex were. After awhile we don't know what to get each other, but I try to be creative. I remember a few years ago, I didn't know what to get her for Christmas, so I made a little coupon book that entails what we will do for the next year. All of it already planned out, like vacation, movie marathon, going to the zoo.

Yeah, I try not to overthink much. I think that's why I am back to playing video games, just so my mind can be distracted. Maybe I should start reading again.

When you work on your fics, do you already know like how it will end? And then you just brainstorm what happens in between?

I am 5'6ish...on a good day ahahahaha how about you? And I have about 8 tattoos, one of them is the size of my leg because it's a portrait of one of the first cats I've owned. I really want to get more though.

Have you ever been hospitalized? Or gotten into a major accident that you need surgery?

-CuriousGeorge

Hello hello righty eyebag! Sorry for the late reply, the little one got me busy, then i tried to write more when she was napping. N when she woke up i moved on to the chores.

Im doing okay.. i hope u have a good day today. Happy thanksgiving eve!

Im okay with clothes, i dont wear complex clothes. My sister and i are totally oposites in clothing. My sister is always dressed up, wearing contacts, put on makes up even wear heels. Lol.

Meanwhile me, i like simple clothes. Tshirt, jeans and sneakers plus Jacket or cardigans. 😅

I like legos but i prefer puzzles.😆

Yeah i love handmade gifts. I think it's really sweet if someone put extra effort by giving me handmade gifts. Like i said, i'm an easy to please kind of girl. 🤭 so actually it wouldnt be hard to be my partner or friends. Lol.

Aaaww thats so sweet. I think what u did with ur partner on gift wise was romantic.. i love romantic gestures. Do u consider urself romantic? I dont know if i am but i got told often that i am. Hahahhaa.

Well, u r more than welcomed to talk with me n message me whenever u r overthink. I can relate to it, so im here for u 😊

Well, sometimes i know how a fic will end sometimes i dont. Even if i do, sometimes as i write or braintstorm, the story can still change. Unless it's a request, then i try to stick to it but maybe change it in a different way but still have the same ending like how it was requested. Like last night, the dark fic im working on, had some little but big change in it as i was brainstorming more while working on what happen in between.

Wow u r pretty tall. I'm short. I'm 5'2 lol. Aw thats so cool that u have 8 tattoos!n it's cute u hv ur cat tattoo on u. I only have 2 tattoos.. I planned to have a sleeve tattoo on my lower right arm but i dont think it will happen.

Yes i hv been hospitalized a few times. I got on 3 car accidents but not that bad that i hv to have surgeries. But i got a pretty bad permanent injuries from my last 2. Oh by the way all of the 3 accidents werent my fault. Some people r just suck and stupid in driving.

What about u?

Next question?

Cheerio!

[irwintry]

Garden Guru

Warnings: swearing

Author’s Note: i should rly work on some new stuff

Word Count: 6k

You didn't understand your mother's love for Gerber daisies. Personally, you were a petunia gal yourself. The yard had plenty of each, along with a million other flowers that had been purchased in spurts throughout the year. Ever since you could remember, the garage of your family home never housed cars, but pots and planters instead to contribute to your mother's love for gardening.

This "love" spread elsewhere by the time you were fourteen. She'd gathered enough money to buy out the old abandoned fresh food market on Locust Ave, and in under a year, the final renovations revealed a spectacular flower shop made with all kinds of love. The porch was filled with annuals and perennials, even succulents that you talked her into ordering. She asked you to paint the great big sign that would dangle from the entrance, and even though you've never been much of an artist, you complied. Betty Bloom Florals was now open.

While you were away at college, your mother ran the shop all by herself. She felt thankful for summers especially; sales were out the wazoo and you were there right by her side. When she wasn't managing Betty Bloom, she was offering herself off as a gardener for anyone willing to pay the fees. Her background in landscape landed her roles through the Parks and Recreation department of the town, which made it harder for her to "be the boss". Though she didn't necessarily sell Betty Bloom, it opened under new management. Now, she owned but never operated.

The yard of your childhood home was your favorite landscape design of all time. The patch of green by the back fence housed a willow with a tire swing younger Y/N used to love. To its left, a fairly large greenhouse (for a backyard, at least) sat, filled to the brim with flowers, fruits, and veggies. Just off of the porch, a stone path hugged by two ginormous flower gardens led back to the greenhouse.

The garden your mother created was the love of your life. When she couldn't tend to it, you took charge. She wasn't picky per se, but often, she'd tell you what she would have preferred. Nonetheless, she never complained. It wasn't just her garden; it was yours as well.

It was the summer before your senior year. Working was going to be the same as every year had been since you started high school, but those plans fell short when your mother asked you to help out with landscaping instead. You jumped at the opportunity; however, that meant more days cooped up at home in her office while the two of you tried to agree on many, many decisions.

You loved being the daughter of a florist/ gardener because most of the time, life felt so simple.

"Y/N?"

You hummed, stirring in your sleep as you dreamt about what you would be doing now if you had gone to Hogwarts. Would you be an Auror? Okay, maybe not. They're, like, the elite... You've got to be really good.

"Y/N!" That voice was no longer a whisper, and you were no longer thinking about wandering through the Ministry of Magic and glaring at the certain wizards you disliked.

"Hmm?" You blinked your eyes open, but they had nothing to adjust to. It was still pitch dark in your room. Maybe you were hearing things. You closed your eyes again.

"Y/N." It was your mother's voice. "I think there are kids in our backyard."

"Mmm kay."

"Y/N."

"What?"

"There are kids in our backyard," she repeated.

Your eyes shot back open, and you nearly sprung out of bed to take ahold of her arms. "The flowers!"

"Yeah, the flowers," she mocked, folding her arms meanwhile freeing herself from your tight grip. She glanced toward the window that faced the backyard and nodded towards it. "Maybe you can open your window and listen in."

"Won't they hear me?" you asked. Your stomach began to hurt; you had gotten up way too fast.

She shrugged. "Yeah, and? I think they're drunk. And, they're ruining our garden."

You liked that she said our garden, even though most of the gardening had been done by her before you came back from school. You huffed and stomped over to the window, kneeling down so you could get a good angle to open the window. You tried your best to keep quiet as you did so, but apparently, they hadn't heard a thing.

"Have you fucking found any?" one asked after a long moment of rustling.

"I can't see jack shit, Luke," another replied. "Get off my butt."

You looked back to your mother, even though she was barely a visible silhouette. The kids below had flashlights – off of their phones most likely, and they were shining all over the place. There looked to be about five or six separate people darting around the yard.

"I think I found so– Nah, sorry, it was an actual weed."

Behind you, your mother huffed. "I don't have weeds."

That was when it hit you. They didn't happen upon your yard randomly while trying to sneak out somewhere, they were trying to find pot. That was also something your mother didn't have (to the extent of your knowledge), so naturally, these drunk boys were trespassing for no real reason at all.

"That's what they want," you whispered.

"What?"

"They're looking for weed," you said. "Not weeds." You shut the window slowly and began in the direction of the stairs to the first floor. "You don't happen to grow pot, do you?"

Your mother gasped as she followed you. "Oh my gosh, you're kidding me! That's what they're looking for?"

"Yep."

You opened the sliding glass door with a loud bang, and immediately a bunch of distressed swears followed. A second later, you had switched on the light. Both you and your mom stood with your arms crossed, but when the light illuminated your backyard, only one perpetrator could be found. The tall blond boy was staring at the two of you, his eyes wide and watery, his mouth hung wide open. His hands were shaky as he held them up, meanwhile shining you right in the eye with his flashlight.

"I-I-I'm– I'm s-so– "

"What's your name, sweetie?" your mother questioned slowly, her tone sharp yet calm.

He swallowed, hardly moving anything but his mouth or head. "L-Luke."

"Ah," you chuckled. "You're Luke. Did you get off of that guy's butt?"

It would have been a better joke if Luke hadn't looked so damn terrified. A part of you wanted to shrug and tell him to get the hell out; he looked too scared to be guilty of anything. But then, you took a look at the garden. Your mother seemed to be on the same page, for she had to sit down on a patio chair to keep her heart from racing too hard.

"We're calling the police," you said, trying your best to sound stern. In reality, you wanted to go back to bed. You wanted to curl up under your sheets and go back to dreaming about live in the wizarding world, but now you were having to deal with a cute trespasser with drunk intentions just to find weed.

He began shaking his head, and even from far away, you could see his lip trembling. "Please, I'll– I'll do anything."

"I'm sorry, but– "

"Anything?" your mother asked. The question itself sounded as sketchy as it was written. She uncrossed her legs before standing up, her arms still folded while she stared this Luke guy down.

He nodded. He still hadn't moved otherwise.

"You've torn my garden to shreds for what– weed?" She had a way of scaring people without yelling, something you realized early on when you were a child. It was her discipline tactic. "Gardens don't take minutes to plant and grow, so my proposition for you is– "

"Anything," he said. "Promise." This poor Luke needed a break.

"I'll give you the tools, and you fix my garden back up just the way I had designed it." Your mom walked back to the sliding door. "Come back here tomorrow at nine in the morning. You're pulling everything."

"I-I... I don't know how to garden."

She shrugged. "Y/N will show you."

You had been nodding along, and the sentence almost escaped you. Your eyes widened as your head snapped in her direction. "What? No. This is all his fault." And his other friends' of course, but if you knew guys any better, you knew that there was no way he'd be able to get his other friends to help. They weren't in the kind of trouble he was. Surely, he was going to be pissed at them.

"You work for me, so I'm asking you to help him out," she whispered to you. "Look at those eyes. Maybe you'll fall for the felon."

You sighed and glanced back at Luke. His arms were starting to lower back to his sides, but his sad eyes were as large as Jupiter. You didn't want to admit that your mother made a convincing argument; now that you'd gotten a better look at him, he was as cute as a button. And, he was so freakin' tall. How on earth a normal human could look like the embodiment of Gumby, you had no idea.

You glanced around at the stirred-up hell he and his friends created, the anger bubbling in your stomach at the thought of the hard work you and your mom put into the garden. Now, you had to do it all over again, this time with a stranger that caused it all. But, your mom was right; you work for her.

"Fine," you said. "Nine tomorrow. Bring money. We've got a lot of shit to buy because of you."

He nodded, holding back a gulp as your mother prepared to head back inside. "Thank you." His voice had strained confidence in it, almost as if he was now trying to sound less-wimpy.

Truly, you didn't think he was a wimp. If you had been in his shoes, you would be terrified of getting arrested as well. The thing was, you liked the fact that he was scared. He deserved it for the mess he made.

You gave him a smile. "Don't thank us yet, Gumby."

-

You half-expected this kid to show up twenty minutes early (mostly because he looked so damn scared the night prior, so you figured he'd do anything to make it up to the both of you), but when he arrived at 9:30 in a flannel and jeans, you couldn't help but laugh. This was what you had to work with, someone who showed up late and in inappropriate clothing for the job.

"Are we going to like, Lowes or something?" Luke asked as he approached you on the front porch. He looked hungover and exhausted, but he was no longer in shock like he had been last night.

You slung your small backpack over your shoulder and brushed passed him without a second glance. "Sammi's Greenhouse. I hope you got a nice dandy playlist for the hour-long drive."

"Hour?" he questioned. He hadn't moved from his spot on the path to your house while you were now getting in the driver's seat of your car. "What the fu– "

You shut the door and turned on the ignition. When you looked back at him, he was rolling his eyes and finally making his way to the car. So, what? He was annoyed? You were dreading this now, and you were definitely going to text your mother a super long message once you arrived at Sammi's. By this rate, you were sure this garden would take the entire summer to manage. It would be too late by then.

"What are we going that far fo'?" he asked as he slid in the passenger seat. He made a face as he took in the interior of your car. Sure, it was somewhat messy, but Betsy had been through hell and back with you. "It's gonna take us all fuckin' day to get this dumb garden fixed."

"Listen, Gumby– " You took a breath as you began backing out of the driveway. "Clearly, you don't know shit about gardening, so how 'bout you start off by not speaking at all. Okay? You're damn lucky we're not reporting you. Suck it up and follow everything I do. You're already a pain in my ass and we haven't even left the neighborhood."

"Jesus... fine," he whispered as he began playing with the rings on his fingers.

"And, I hate to break it to you bud, but this dumb garden is going to take a little longer than one stupid day to fix," you continued. You were trying not to make your nerves known through your tone.

"What?"

Your eyes widened; his "what" had been so high and loud, you nearly slammed your foot on the brakes.

"How long's this gonna fuckin' take?" Meanwhile, as he spoke, he slipped on a pair of sunglasses that looked way too expensive to be worn in a car like Betsy. In fact, he looked way too expensive for Betsy. It made you wonder why he was scavenging around your garden for weed when he could most likely get as many grams as his dumbass wanted.

"Well," you said with a sigh, "to plant... maybe a week. Which, in all honesty, is the minimum approximate time I can give you. It's a big garden, and everything needs to be perfect to satisfy my mom. If one marigold is where a petunia should be, then I wouldn't be surprised if she threatened the police on you again. I mean, hell, Gumby, you all fucking dug up almost the entire garden."

"How do you know I didn't work alone?" he questioned, surprise lacing his tone. "Also, why do you keep calling me that?"

"What? Gumby?" you asked innocently. "You know Gumby, right?"

"That clay dude?"

"Yeah, you look like him," you said. You turned down Locust Ave.

"I do not."

"Hm, kinda do."

"No, fuck you, I– "

"Anyway, my mom and I heard you all from my bedroom." You didn't want to bicker with him at this early in the morning. "You guys weren't necessarily trying to be quiet."

"We were drunk." Luke had his entire body facing away from you as he watched the buildings go by outside. His fingers were drumming along the side while he spoke.

You chuckled. "Yeah, we know, dumbass." You took a short pause before continuing on with your previous thoughts. "But... not only are you going to help plant the garden, but I'm assuming my mom wants you to help tend to it too so you can count on being at my house a lot more than just a week, that's for sure."

"What the fuck," he muttered under his breath.

"Get some tunes ready, sweetie," you said. You certainly didn't like being around Luke, but you hoped to at least get along with him eventually. "It's gonna be a long road ahead."

Luke groaned but pulled out his phone nevertheless.

"So..."

"So?"

"You got a Pokey, Gumby?" You couldn't stop smiling.

He huffed. "Fuck off."

-

You knew the flowers your mother liked to plant off the top of your head, but apparently, it would have been helpful if you had written things down. On your own, shopping would have been fine; however, you were with Luke who had no idea how to tell the difference between hydrangeas and dahlias (which, quite honestly, you weren't that peeved about considering the fact that they were placed right next to each other in the greenhouse and the blooms were the same color).

"What do you think of these?" you asked as you glanced around at the pansies. It had already been about an hour since you arrived, and Luke was certainly having the time of his life as you took ten minutes picking out which flowers you deemed perfect. "My mom is kind of lenient sometimes when it comes to the flowers I prefer. Orange or blue?"

"Look, I literally don't– "

"Orange or blue?" you repeated, now agitated. He had been pissy ever since you arrived – well, he had been pissy all damn day technically.

"Blue," he replied. "How much is this all gonna be anyway? I don't need my bank callin' and askin' why I purchased a thousand dollars' worth of fucking flowers."

You shrugged. "Maybe they'll just assume you've actually found a passion for once in your life."

Luke clearly did not like your response. Not only had you avoided his question about the price, but you had also insulted his personality in a way. Granted, you knew nothing about him, so it was rude to assume he had no passions. Maybe he wanted to be an astronaut. He'd have to behave a bit better to get there.

"I'm in a band," he seethed. "I'd honestly rather be in jail right now than be here with you."

You laughed, but it stung. Laughter was your coping mechanism. Humor – in general – made you pretend to feel better about a lot of things. "'m sure bail is much more than this garden will ever cost, sweetie."

"Okay, don't call me that," he said. "Again, how much is this going to be?"

You tried to think back to previous years while you eyed the impatiens. According to your mother's garden plan, you needed a lot of those. You hadn't gone shopping with her since before college, and now you were nearly about to start your last year. Her garden designs had certainly changed since then, but you couldn't imagine the prices being too terribly different.

"A few hundred," you answered honestly. "Not more than five, I believe."

You couldn't tell if he believed you, but he stayed silent for the first time since the two of you met completely sober this morning. Luke rubbed his eyes and pushed the cart closer to you so you could begin loading a few plastic pots. Poor old Betsy would not be able to handle this load, so, like in years past, you would have to get Peter to transport a few as well.

Peter was a friend of your family's. He had been working at Sammi's for as long as you could remember, and ever since you and your mom became garden goddesses, he had been helping you out. Most often, he'd take the heavy load of flowers or bushes in his pick-up, and then you'd give him a generous tip at the end. Even though Luke was paying for the whole purchase, you were going to give Peter the tip for personal reasons.

"'m not sure this is even legal," Luke mumbled after a few quiet minutes.

You winced; you had been hoping for more silence. "What?"

"You should've taken me to court," he said, "and then you could've given the judge an alternative. According to the law, 'm not sure you and your mum can make the rules."

"You scratch our back, we'll scratch yours."

"Don't think that's the case, darlin'," he replied, and he even cracked a smile. That was the first time he had given you a genuine smile that wasn't a fake or mean laugh of some sorts.

You put one foot up onto the cart and began pushing with the other so you could ride with it. The weight of the many flowers kept the whole thing from tipping over with you. Behind you, Luke muttered a "Jesus" under his breath, but he laughed anyway.

"You do it, too, Gumby." You nodded towards his own cart – also full of flowers. It was most likely time to start loading the car before coming back for more. "Make fun of this escapade."

He simply shook his head as he unbuttoned his flannel one or two times. "There's nothing fun about this escapade. I wouldn't even call it an escapade. And, dunno if ridin' a damn cart like a four-year-old will make it any better."

You shrugged again. "Not with that attitude." You were kind of surprised with how well you and Luke got along, despite the fact that it appeared you two disliked each other strongly. Truthfully, you were starting to like bantering with him, and you could tell he was lying about not having fun. At least you were having fun. "Hey, can I ask ya somethin'?" You sped down an aisle, kicking the concrete as if you were riding a scooter.

Luke trailed slowly behind you as he said, "you just did."

You rolled your eyes. "Okay, stupid. Whatever. Why were you and your friends in our yard anyway? Why did you think we had weed?"

"Someone pranked us, I think," he answered and pulled his cart up next to you. "Need geraniums?"

"Yes, thank you." You eyed the many colors and began picking the pots up one-by-one.

"Mhm."

"Pranked you?" you asked, picking up a pot of lavender-colored geraniums and putting them into your very full cart. "How so?"

Luke let out a cough. It sounded like he was clearing his throat, but it came out much louder than he probably suspected. "We were tryin' to find some at this party because my friend Cal's dealer didn't show, and this one dude gave us the address to your house because he said the owner's – you and your mum – grew some. Think he just knew you both loved gardening 'n shit. I do feel terrible."

"'s quite a story," you said. "Ya looked fucking guilty last night, so I get you're sorry. Sorry you have to endure all of this with me."

He chuckled softly. "You're all right, I guess. I just don't know shit about gardening."

You set one last geranium into your cart and turned to Luke with a great big grin. "I'm the garden guru, sweetie. Just wait, by the end of this summer, you'll know everything there is to know about gardening."

"Again, don't call me sweetie."

You sent him a wink. "Let's get ready for round two, sweetie. Time to buy some bulbs."

-

The first week went better than you had imagined it to. Luke finally knew how to dress appropriate for gardening and hot weather, and the two of you no longer sent each other glares when the other said something wrong. At least, by this point, you both knew what not to say.

You were glad a portion of the garden had been salvageable. Some of the perennials were still a-okay, so you didn't have to buy as many bulbs as you did with buying pots of annuals. However, you did have to buy a shit ton of soil because your mother insisted that the other was soiled. She joked about it, but you were somewhat annoyed because that was more work than needed.

So, the garden was looking... better.

Luke could only work in the mornings due to his actual job in the afternoon, which meant that not a lot would get done. On the days he was late, his presence felt pointless. It took over a week to actually get one thing planted. He and his friends had unrooted nearly everything (aside from that one portion), plus the greenhouse was a fucking disaster.

As a token of your mother's gratitude, she offered you up to make Luke lunch on the days he was working. While you weren't happy about it, you did it nevertheless. He hadn't put up a fight since the proposal was offered the night he trespassed. His attitude surely sucked sometimes, but he did want to make it up to the both of you. The least you could do was feed him.

He met your dog Bubbles on a Tuesday. Your dog was nervous around people, so it was a slow introduction that ended in Luke being attacked with kisses. It shocked you at first. In all of your years of owning Bubbles, he had never once been fond of any of your friends. You hoped he liked Luke solely because you weren't friends.

"Why do you have animal crackers?" he asked on a Friday morning. It had been two weeks since he began helping to fix the garden. A lot of things had been planted, and the next plan was to figure out where to get replica items for your mother's old fairy garden. "And, what are Whales?" Luke tossed you the box of Cheez-It's you had asked him to reach for you since he was standing, and the food was in the top cupboard. "Why do you need these many crackers?"

"Stop being mean," you whined with a pout. "Those are the frosted animal crackers, and they're good. And, you have to try Whales. They're like better Cheez-It's."

"Then why are you eating Cheez-It's?"

"Shut it, Gumby."

Luke mocked your tone with incoherent words but he still opened the box of Whales. You watched as he took a few in his mouth, and you waited for his reaction after he finished chewing.

He hummed. "Not bad. Not better than the white cheddar Cheez-It's though."

"Oh no," you gasped. "You like white cheddar? Have fun in jail."

"Ha-ha." Luke turned to the fridge, but before he opened it, he examined the magnets and pictures on the front. "Is this you?"

"Hm?"

He held up the picture of a little girl – you – holding up two lollipops with a cute grin on your face. You were always told that you wore your happiness well as a child. You had been so excited to win lollies in school that your mother actually kept the picture.

"I won a spelling bee," you said. "Got two lollipops as a reward."

"Huh, cool."

"The final word was knives," you chuckled. "I don't know why I remember that, but I also remember feeling confused as to why the other kid didn't know how to spell it."

Luke set the picture back under a magnet and opened the fridge. "You were cute," he said as he pulled out a yogurt. "Can I have this?"

You nodded. "Did you just compliment me, Gumby?" You pretended to be shocked, even faked a gasp, but you actually were kind of surprised he had said that.

"I said were, darlin'," he replied with a smirk. "Why would I compliment someone who calls me Gumby?"

"It's endearing."

"Not one bit, Pokey."

You let out another gasp, except this time, this one was as real as climate change (which is very, very real). "I'm your Pokey? I'm so honored."

Luke rolled his eyes as he peeled the film lid off of the yogurt. He didn't reply, but he smiled. To you, that said enough.

-

You started noticing your feelings right when the two of you were finishing up planting. The garden wasn't flourishing as of yet, but for the most part, the dirty work had been done. Now, all Luke had to do was visit in the mornings to water. You honestly believed that he enjoyed this work now. He no longer complained, nor did he whine or groan when he had to bend over. He even stayed longer into the afternoon even though you were positive he had another job.

He laughed at your jokes. Your dry, corny humor couldn't please a child, but he laughed, and it felt genuine. His eyes would crinkle, and the harder the laugh, the higher the pitch. It made your heart swell. It was because of his laughter that you were able to recognize the feelings it gave you. And, it sucked.

Most of all, it sucked because your mother was right.

You were falling for the stupid felon.

"Did you ever tell your friends off for leaving you that night?" you asked. You were nibbling on a granola bar while Luke was turning on the hose. "If my friends did that to me, I'd probably– "

"No," he said sharply. He began watering right away, his hand tight against the handle of the spray nozzle he had been forced to purchase. Somehow, someone had snapped the handle on the old one the night of the trespassing. "'m not very good at talking to people about stuff that upsets me."

"Does that upset you?"

"What, that I can't talk to people about what they did wrong?" he questioned.

You nodded.

Luke shrugged as he wandered over to the bushes by the fence. "I guess."

"Well, there ya go!" you exclaimed. You set down the granola bar wrapper on the table nearby, and afterward, you nearly tripped on his glorious stonework on your way over to him. "'s solved. Now you can address it."

He sent you a playful glare, and you could tell it was playful because of the small smirk that had adorned his face. He had a beautiful smile, you had to admit. It was accompanied by a damn good pair of lips as well. You especially liked making him smile.

"'m not good at anything, really," he mumbled. "Singing... I guess. Shit at gardening and shit at feelings."

"Okay, first of all," you started, "you were shit at gardening. You had me so you're pretty damn good now, I would say. I can officially give myself a pat on the back for that one." You were beaming. Talking to him made you happier than you wanted it to.

Luke pushed his curls back from his forehead, giving you a perfect glance at his ring-clad fingers. He even had his nails painted a dull red. The color had started to chip, but it suited him nonetheless. "You givin' me a compliment?"

"Oh, no," you said, shaking your head. "I'm giving myself a compliment."

Luke shook his own head as he started to cackle quietly. Suddenly, he had the hose turned on you, and you began to shriek as his laughter became the cute squealy laughter that made your insides burn.

"Fuck, fuck!" You started to run around, but Luke was hot on your tail as he changed the settings on the nozzle. What had been the shower setting was now the jet setting, and you were being pelted. "Ow, you dummy!"

His giggles only got louder as he hit you with the cone setting, and at least the water on that one hurt less than the fucking jet. "Slow down!" he shouted after you. "I've missed a spot on your ass." He cornered you by the greenhouse, and just as he thought he had gotten you good, you were able to grab the hose from his slippery grip. Luckily, the hose was long enough to reach this far back in the yard.

"Payback, bitch," you said with a grin as you sprayed him. You expected him to run away as you had done, but instead, he stepped closer to you.

His laughter died down only slightly, yet you hardly noticed the change before he closed the space between the two of you. The water hit him directly in the stomach as his hand found the back of your neck to pull you into him. Your lips met in a sloppy yet comforting kiss, the kind of first kiss that people talked about for years. It was like kissing in the rain, but also completely different at the same time.

He pulled away almost as fast as he had initiated the kiss. His hair was hanging in his eyes, the strands dripping wet as he wiped the water off of his nose. That only caused you to aim the water at his face as another fit of giggles erupted through your body.

"Gonna fuckin' get you for this," he muttered, taking you by the waist and hoisting you over his shoulder.

"No, no, no!" you shrieked, hitting his back and spraying his butt with the jet setting.

"Hey, that's inappropriate," he whispered into your ear.

You lifted the hose again, hitting him in the face once more. "Eat my butt, Gumby."

You did not mind falling for the felon one bit.

-

You saw Luke less after that. It was partially due to the fact that the garden had been finished, and all he needed to do was stop by and water them. But, he never stayed to talk. This not only crushed you but made you resent letting yourself open up in the first place. The steady banter had been comfortable, and you should have kept it that way. You let yourself fall for someone who wasn't ready for anything in the first place.

You wanted to believe that you spoke too soon the day he pecked your lips goodbye. He made sure to wink and wave on his way out, yet somehow, your heart fell deep into your chest. Someone who didn't want to give you everything wasn't worth your time. Luke said had a tendency to avoid talking about things that upset him, but you weren't going to let yourself do the same.

"Hey, Gumby," you said, your tone a little too harsh as you approached him one morning.

He had taken his shirt off due to the incredulous heat index of the day, and it was only ten in the morning. He turned as soon as he heard your voice. "Hm?"

"Do you have feelings for me?" you questioned. You weren't going to sugarcoat anything. You wanted the answers as straightforward as possible.

Luke released his grip on the handle of the nozzle. "What?" His eyes had widened slightly, and if he hadn't already been red due to the heat, you would have assumed the question made him blush.

"Do you like me? Are you into me? Would you fuck me? Just let me know."

He blinked rapidly. "Why are you asking all of this?"

You shrugged, but you knew why you were asking all of this. You let out a laugh before you continued. "Because you fucking kissed me, you dumbfuck. You kissed me twice, and that was it! You've hardly talked to me since. Were you just doing it because you knew I liked you? Or do you actually fucking like me back?"

Luke dropped the hose and ambled towards you, his long legs taking him to you in under a second. Both of his hands grabbed hold of your cheeks as he pressed his lips to yours. The kiss grew heated in a matter of milliseconds. His tongue slipped in between your lips before you could register what had even happened. You felt warm all over, and it wasn't because of the hot air.

His lips left yours a moment later, slipping away with a filthy pop before he began kissing along your cheeks and forehead.

"What does this mean?" you whispered lowly and gripped his wrists loosely.

Luke retracted, looking right into your eyes so he could say exactly what he wanted. "It means I like you back," he responded. He swallowed thickly and pressed another quick kiss to your lips. "And, I'm bad at feelings," he whispered, "so I'm sorry I did that to you. 'm really sorry."

His hands found your waist as he started kissing you again. You wound your fingers in his long blond curls, not even worrying about how sweaty they might be. You couldn't find it in yourself to worry about anything but how well you were kissing him. Your lips were numb as he pulled away again, and you found yourself glancing down at his exposed chest so you wouldn't have to look into his eyes.

You were too giddy, but looking at the hairs on his chest was not helping your case one bit.

Suddenly, Luke was bending over and reaching for the hose, quickly turning it back on and spraying you like had done a week or two prior. His loud giggles filled the air, and even though you were screaming for dear life, you had never felt happier.

[asroarke]

Part 1:Hi! I got this idea in my head, but I suck at writing and you're my favourite so I'm giving It to you and hopefully you will be interested. Clarke and Octavia live together and they're cleaning the house in preparation for Easter party with the squad. Bellamy is helping them and he also has extreme crush on Clarke.

Part 2:Clarke listens to music in headphones while working and she sings out loud. Bellamy is really amused and gives her cute smirkes and other cute Bellamy shit. Double points if Octavia acknowledges that.  I hope you can understand what I wrote lol, English isn’t my first language and I just woke up. Have a good day! I don’t know why I’m writing it to you I hope you don’t mind!            

Sorry this took so long. I mostly stuck to the prompt, but Bellamy and Octavia live together instead of Octavia and Clarke. And I switched it to a graduation party since it’s been a month since Easter (my bad, this prompt got buried and I need to be better about getting to these faster). Hope you like it! [ao3]

“It’s your graduation party, Bell. You could at leastpretend to be excited,” Octavia huffed, throwing her hands up in frustration.Bellamy probably should have seen this coming. After all, Octavia went all outfor his high school graduation and his college graduation… he just figured she’dget tired of celebrating his graduations by the time he finished grad school.

“I am excited,” he forced himself to say. He was just notexcited about having to clean their entire apartment only for their friends todrunkenly mess it up again.

“And the Oscar for most convincing attitude change goes toBellamy Blake,” Clarke snorted before returning to blow up the balloon she wasworking on. Octavia hit Clarke’s shoulder in frustration, causing Clarke tolose grip of the balloon, and Bellamy tried to keep a straight face he watchedit deflate across the room. “This is the last time I offer to help you guys.”

“Bull shit,” Octavia teased at the same time Bellamy said, “Thankyou.”

“Since it’s my graduation party, I’m gonna go ahead and calldibs on not cleaning the bathroom,” Bellamy decided, and with a groan, Clarkeput her headphones back in.

“Bell, I still have errands to run,” she argued, and herolled his eyes. Of course, she decides to throw him a party and then stickshim with the actual work for it.

“Why can’t I run the errands?” he asked, cocking his head tothe side as she moved to grab her keys.

“Because they’re super surprise errands that you can’t knowabout yet,” she said sweetly, and before he could argue, she was out the door.

He let out another exaggerated groan, waiting for Clarke tojump in with some teasing quip. When she was surprisingly quiet, he glancedover at her, seeing her swaying where she was sitting, listening to whatever itwas that she listens to. He had been trying for a while to figure out what kindof music Clarke is even into because her Spotify choices have not given him adamn hint. Some days, it’s just straight up classical music, and other days, it’sthe kind of metal that Bellamy would be scared to play in his car unless hewanted to destroy his speakers.

“Clarke,” he shouted, and her head popped up as she tugged aheadphone out.

“Yeah?” she asked as she tied off another balloon.

“Did Octavia seriously decide to throw me a party and leaveme all the actual work?” he asked, and a smile washed over Clarke’s face beforeshe leaned back and started laughing.

“I tried to talk her out of it,” Clarke chuckled, shakingher head slightly.

“You let this happen,” he teased, which only made her erupteven further into laughter. He knew as well as she did that when Octavia madeup her mind about something that she usually got her way. “You know, the veryleast you could do is help me with the bathrooms.”

“Excuse me,” Clarke deadpanned, waving the balloon she justtied off in the air. “I have very important artistic work to do here,” she gotout before cracking a smirk and hitting the balloon in his direction. Hesmacked it back down, hitting Clarke. “Ugh, I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” he reminded, raising his eyebrows at her.He swears he saw a slight blush in her cheeks as she turned back to herballoons… or maybe it was just wishful thinking on his part. He decided to gointo the kitchen and grab the cleaning supplies from the cabinet before he lethimself overthink this too much.

He and Clarke were friends, despite spending several years determinednot to be. It was inevitable when Clarke moved across the hall from him andOctavia, since more evenings than not she ended up on their couch, playing refereewhen he and O would get into fights. Then, Octavia and Lincoln started dating,meaning him and Clarke were both suddenly without the one person they usuallyspent their time with… so they just kind of fell into being close friends. Itwasn’t a huge shift, or anything. Just a lot of nights where they got take outas Bellamy wrote papers and Clarke sketched.

He wasn’t sure when he started seeing her as something morethan a friend. Maybe it was inevitable after spending years trying to ignorethose random thoughts he would have about how pretty she is or how nice hersmile is. Or maybe it was just because this was the first time they were bothsingle for this long. Or maybe it was because they had become more physicallyaffectionate with each other in the last few months, snuggling a little closeron the couch as they watched documentaries late at night, hugging a bit morefrequently than usual…

He had no idea if Clarke even felt the same way, but he decidedit was something he could wait to deal with after he graduates. Miller gave hima lot of shit for it, but he had a good argument. He needed to stay focused onhis thesis, and he couldn’t do that if he was brooding over the fact thatClarke didn’t feel the same way.

Although, Bellamy knew it was just him being too scaredabout what would happen to their friendship if he was wrong about Clarkefeeling the same way.

When Bellamy came out of the kitchen, Clarke had herheadphones back in and was mouthing the words to whatever she was listening to.God, she looked so relaxed and at peace today… a look he had been seeing a lotmore lately. It was nice getting to see Clarke like this.

He shook the smile off his face as he got to work cleaningthe bathroom, remembering that he was going to wait until tomorrow to figureout what to do about his mild crush on Clarke.

He finished cleaning the sink and begrudgingly decided to justclose the shower curtain and hope that no one noticed that he hadn’t botheredto clean it. He stepped out of the bathroom to get a new sponge when he heardClarke’s voice.

Well, her singing voice, more specifically. Bellamy tiptoedtoward the sound, finding her in the kitchen, cleaning out the fridge. Herheadphones were still in as she sang along to that new Panic! at the Discosong, and Bellamy couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

He really should go back to cleaning or at least acknowledgethat he’s here, but there was something so endearing about how happy andcarefree she was, how at home she felt here with him and Octavia. He wasn’tsure how long he stood in the doorway watching her, but he was jerked out ofthe haze by the sound of Octavia swinging the door open.

A blush crept to his cheeks as he tried to pretend like hewasn’t just standing there watching Clarke, but the look in Octavia’s eyes saidthat she wasn’t buying it. “Clarke,” Octavia shouted as she entered thekitchen, and Clarke tugged the headphones out and started helping Octavia finda spot in the fridge to put the cake in. Bellamy headed back toward thebathroom quickly, deciding to just make do without the new sponge since thatwas preferable than being in that kitchen when Octavia decided to tease himabout Clarke.

He may have taken a bit longer finishing up the bathroom thanhe needed to, only stopping when Octavia walked in with a huge smirk on herface. “Don’t,” he warned, not knowing where Clarke was and if she could hearthem.

“She’s back at her apartment getting ready,” Octavia saidwith a huge grin. He let out a breath as he stood up, and Octavia’s grin onlygrew. “So, is tonight the night you’re gonna tell her you want to have herbabies?”

“Oh my God, stop,” he groaned as he brushed past her. Hescanned the living room, and it looked about as good as it was going to get. “Let’sjust get through tonight.”

“Hey, I am working my ass off on this party,” Octaviasnapped as she followed Bellamy back toward his room. He refrained from pointingout that he didn’t want a party as he headed toward his closet. “Wear the bluebutton-down with the white stripes. It’s Clarke’s favorite.”

“What?” he asked, but Octavia was skipping out his door. Hehad no idea if this shirt was actually Clarke’s favorite, if she even had afavorite that she would tell Octavia about, or if his sister was just messing withhim… but he went ahead and put it on.

He tried to shake Clarke out of his head as he finishedgetting all the food out. It helped that Lincoln and Miller showed up early anddistracted him. In fact, he stopped thinking about Clarke altogether until shecame back into the apartment when the party was already in full swing. Heignored the pointed looks that O was giving him as he went over to help hercarry the beer into the kitchen. “Jasper showed up already kind of drunk,”Bellamy warned, and Clarke chuckled.

“I guess we know who is sleeping on your couch tonight,” sheteased, and Bellamy rolled his eyes.

“Yes, happy graduation to me, I get a drunk Jasper on mycouch and probably a drunk Murphy asleep on my floor,” he muttered, and Clarkebit down on her lip. “What?”

“Okay, don’t get mad at me,” she said as he sat the beerdown on the counter. He raised an eyebrow at her, and she ducked her headslightly… and he couldn’t help but smile at her. “This party might totally bemy fault.”

“What?” he huffed in mock anger, and she covered her mouthwith her hands. Luckily, there was no one else in the kitchen with them,meaning Bellamy didn’t have to stress about Miller or Octavia teasing him forthis.

“Okay,” she giggled, holding her hands defensively. “I justmentioned to Octavia that we should do something for your graduation. I in noway, shape, or form endorsed a party that you would then have to do most of thework for,” she explained, and Bellamy smirked at her.

“You told my sister we should celebrate, and you didn’trealize she would jump to a party?” he teased, nudging her shoulder with his.

“No, I said we should do something special. I mean, this isa huge deal, Bellamy,” she argued as she pulled the cap off her beer. “Ifigured we could do something small, I don’t know. I just figured we should do somethingspecial to celebrate,” she shrugged before taking a swig of her beer.

“I appreciate the attempt, princess,” he replied, pullingher in for a side hug. His heart skipped a beat as she lingered at his side,resting her head against his chest.

“You better. I worked my ass off on those balloons. Thatbetter be your favorite thing about today,” she snorted.

“Nah, I think my favorite thing was walking in on yousinging along to your music in the kitchen,” he teased, although it wascompletely true. He snuck a look at her, seeing her entire face grow red from embarrassment.

“You heard me?” she huffed, hitting his shoulder, and heerupted into laughter. “You could have told me I was singing out loud. I didn’tnotice I was doing it until Octavia gave me shit for it,” she kept going,squirming away as he pulled her back in by her waist. “You’re such an ass.”

“Hey, I said it was my favorite part of today,” he joked,and she scrunched her face up as she glared at him… and he knew that he wasjust beaming at her at this point. It was hard to hide this goofy grin of hiswhen she was around.

“Clarke!” he heard Raven shout from the other room, andBellamy let out a sigh. Moment over.

“I’ll be right back,” Clarke smirked, patting his arm.

“Nope. It’s my graduation party. You gotta hide out with mein the kitchen. Sorry, I don’t make the rules,” he joked, although he hadalready stopped touching her so that she could go.

“Like I said, I’ll be right back. You’ll hardly miss me,”she teased, before smacking a kiss right on his cheek. His jaw went slack asshe turned away, but he managed not to actually touch his cheek until she wasout of the room. He could feel all the heat rise to his cheeks as he tried to processwhat just happened. Clarke just kissed him. It was on the cheek… but still. Itwas the best thing that happened to him today.

[douchebagbrainwaves]

WHY I'M SMARTER THAN LANGUAGE

We tend to write the software controlling those flying cars? But I always end up spending most of the members don't like it.1 Long but mistaken arguments are actually quite rare.2 Lexical closures provide a way to get startup ideas is hard. Wasting programmer time is the true inefficiency, not wasting machine time.3 Someone wrote recently that the drawback of Y Combinator wants to raise $250-500k. Language design is being taken over by hackers.4 A lot can change for a startup, it will sound plausible to a lot of money. Did they want French Vanilla or Lemon?

Organic growth seems to yield better technology and richer founders than the big bang method.5 I can call on any struct.6 The project either gets bogged down, or the startup will get bought, in which case problem solved, or the result is a free for all. Which means that even if we're generous to ourselves and assume that YC can on average triple a startup's expected value, we'd be taking the right amount of risk if only 30% of the startups were fundable would be a good idea, but you have to process video images depends on the rate at which you have to be facing off in a kind of business plan for a new type of number you've made up, you can envision companies as holes. I made for a panel discussion on programming language design at MIT on May 10,2001. What investors still don't get is how clueless and tentative great founders can seem at the very beginning.7 You have to approach it somewhat obliquely.

Usually this initial group of hackers using the language for others even to hear about it usually, because to prove yourself right you have to do is turn off the filters that usually prevent you from seeing them. This helps counteract the rule that in buying a house you should consider location first of all. I went to work for the love of it: amateurs. Which makes it easier to remember that it's an admirable thing to write great programs, even when this work doesn't translate easily into the conventional intellectual currency of research papers.8 In theory this is possible for species too, but it's a bad sign they even try. In some applications, presumably it could generate code efficient enough to run acceptably well on our hardware. The problem is the same reason Facebook has so far remained independent: acquirers underestimated them. If people are expected to behave well, they tend to be one of the only programming languages a surprising amount of effort has gone into preventing programmers from doing things that they think aren't good for you.9 I don't think we suck, but instead ask do we suck?10 And try to imagine what a transcript of the other guy's talk would be like teaching writing as grammar, without mentioning that its purpose is to refine the idea.11 But I'd rather use a site with primitive features and smart, nice users than a more advanced one whose users were idiots or trolls.12

Expressing ideas helps to form them. A company that an angel is willing to put $50,000 into at a valuation of a million can't take $6 million from VCs at that valuation. Afterward I put my talk online like I usually do.13 This is understandable with angels; they invest on a smaller scale. As a young founder under 23 say, are there things you and your friends would like to build great things for the companies they started would hire more employees as they grew. Having strings in a language where all the variables were the letter x with integer subscripts. Plus they're investing other people's money, and they even let kids in.14

It's due to the shape of the problem. If you want to notice startup ideas: those that grow organically out of your inbox?15 But I know the real reason we're so conservative is that we shouldn't be afraid to call the new Lisp Lisp.16 And it may be, this is the exact moment when technological progress stops. Currently the way VCs seem to operate is to invest in startups Y Combinator has funded. Then I do the same thing over and over seems kind of gross to me. To start with, investors are letting founders cash out partially.

And so interfaces tend not to change at all, and you'd get that fraction of big hits. That may be the greatest effect, in the sense that it lets hackers have their way with it. Essays should do the opposite. You might think that if they found a good deal of syntax in Common Lisp occurs in format strings; format is a language where you can spend as long thinking about each sentence as it takes to say it, a person hearing a talk can only spend as long thinking about each sentence as it takes to hear it. Is it necessary to take risks proportionate to the returns in this business. We wrote what was, 700 years ago, writing software pretty much meant writing software in general, because we'd be a long way toward fixing the problem: you'd soon learn what was expensive. The real question is, how far up the ladder of abstraction will parallelism go? It's pretty clear now that the healthiest diet is the one our peasant ancestors were forced to eat because they were so much more robust to have all the brains on the server. This is more pronounced among the very best hackers will like? But of course if you really get it, you can cry and say I can't and they won't even dare to take on ambitious projects. You're getting things done.17 But that's no different with any other tool.

And then there was the language and there was my program, written in the coming years will be Web-based software you can use any language you want, so if I can convince smart readers I must be pretty sharp. But business administration is not what you're doing in a startup founded by three former banking executives in their 40s who planned to outsource their product development—which to my mind is actually a lot riskier than investing in a pair of really smart 18 year olds—he couldn't be faulted, if it means anything at all, and you'd get that fraction of big hits.18 In one place I worked, we had a big board of dials showing what was happening to our web servers.19 But if you're living in the future. I decided the critical ingredients were rich people and nerds—investors and founders. I'm just saying you should think about who you really admire and hang out with them, instead of taking a class on, say, transportation or communications. Inventors of wonderful new things are often surprised to discover this, but you can't trust your judgment about that, so ignore it. When I go to a talk, you could fund everyone who seemed likely to succeed, it's hard not to think where it came from. How often does it happen that a rule works for thousands of years, then switches polarity?

Anything funny or gripping was ipso facto suspect, unless it was old enough to be rational and prefer the latter. When you know nothing, you have to be more than a language, or you have to get up on monday and go to work.20 At a good college, from which—because they're writing for a popular magazine—they then proceed to recoil in terror. How do you tell whether something is the germ of a giant company, or just a niche product? The sort of writing that attempts to persuade may be a necessary evil in a legal dispute, but it's not likely to have happened to any bigger than a cell. There is also the same: Darwinian. Those are like experiments that get inconclusive results.21 Translated into more straightforward language, this means: We're not investing in you, but we weren't interested in ecommerce per se. And it's not just the cost of reading it, and that is exactly the kind VCs won't touch. If there's something you're really interested in, you'll find valuable ones just sitting there waiting to be discovered right under our noses.

Notes

The optimal way to make that leap. 'Math for engineers' sucks, and this tends to happen fast, like storytellers, must have had a tiny.

Turn the other seed firms. For example, probably did more drugs in his early twenties compressed into the work that seems formidable from the CIA runs a venture fund called In-Q-Tel that is allowing economic inequality to turn down some good ideas buried in Bubble thinking. Geshke and Warnock only founded Adobe because Xerox ignored them. Maybe markets will eventually get comfortable with potential earnings.

It seemed better to embrace the fact by someone else start those startups. The Socialist People's Democratic Republic of X is probably part of wisdom. I hadn't had much success in doing a bad sign if you are unimportant. Or rather, where many of the political pressure against Airbnb than hotel companies.

They thought I was there when it converts. Perhaps the most important information about competitors is what approaches like Brightmail's will degenerate into once spammers are pushed into using mad-lib techniques to generate series A rounds from top VC funds whether it was putting local grocery stores out of school. They thought I was a very noticeable change in the long term than one level of links. Instead of bubbling up from the revenue-collecting half of it.

A round, that they kill you, it becomes an advantage to be higher, as on a saturday, he saw that I see a lot of people like them—people who are both.

Viaweb, he'd get his ear pierced. If you have more options. That's the lower bound to its precision. Now we don't have to solve this problem by having a gentlemen's agreement with the solutions.

Investors are one of them is that if a company tuned to exploit it.

But it turns out to do with the New Deal but with World War II the tax codes were so bad that they violate current startup fashions. As well as problems that have economic inequality.

No one seems to have gotten away with the high-minded Edwardian child-heroes of Edith Nesbit's The Wouldbegoods. I were doing Bayesian filtering in a bar. Professors and politicians live within socialist eddies of the next round, though more polite, was one firm that wanted to have to deliver these sentences as if a bunch of other people. No Logo, Naomi Klein says that I know when this happened because it depends on a valuation cap is merely a complicated but pointless collection of stuff to be a founder; and with that of whatever they copied.

Apple's products but their policies. I think in general we've done ok at fundraising is because other companies made all the East Coast VCs. 35 companies that tried that.

If you walk into a few additional sources on their companies. At Princeton, 36% of the conversion of buildings not previously public, like good scientists, motivated less by financial rewards than by selling them overpriced components. You need to fix once it's big, plus they are like, and that injustice is what we need to get users to recruit manually—is probably 99% cooperation.

Teenagers don't tell the craziest lies about me. It seemed better to read a draft of this.

In fact, this thought experiment works for nationality and religion too. To a 3 year old son, you'll be well on your board, there is some kind of gestures you use in representing physical things.

Some of the world in verse.

I have so far has trained them to ignore what your GPA was.

In 1995, when Subject foo degenerates to just foo, what if they did not become romantically involved till afterward. Some are merely ugly ducklings in the sample might be enough. The actual sentence in the same thing twice.

What made Google Google is that Digg is Slashdot with voting instead of reacting. Some VCs seem to be when I switch in mid-sentence, but starting a business, having sold all my shares earlier this year. Even as late as 1984. And yet I think it's mainly not having to have this second self keep a journal, and I don't think they'll be able to formalize a small amount, or Microsoft could not process it.

03%.

These points don't apply to the hour Google was founded, wouldn't offer to invest in these funds have no real substance.

Only founders of failing startups would even be working on is a dotted line on a road there are lots of type II startups spread: all you know Apple originally had three founders? They want so much better to read stories. But I'm convinced there were, like wages and productivity, but trained on corpora of stupid and non-broken form, that it might be?

Some of the word procrastination to describe what's happening till they measure their returns. The Civil Service Examinations of Imperial China, during the 2002-03 season was 4. Part of the world barely affects me.

[existentialstatesofmind]

Opening Up

Clare: had read stories about the Japanese mafia claiming to be humanitarian groups that keep order in Japan. “I’m sure most of it is made up. But the mob knows how to fake running legitimate enterprises. They have office buildings, business cards, the whole works. It would be easy to get in over your head! Now I want to borrow a manga about that.” She laughed. “I guess that means boys aren’t allowed to take home ec at all? According to the paperwork Simpson handed out, it’s compulsory for girls.” She already had a feeling sexism and gender roles would need to be the topic of one of her articles. “How embarrassing. Don’t worry, I won’t take it personally and make Nastsumi feel worse.” Clare smiled at the thought of being ‘average’. “In that case, I’ll wait for Japan to buy new pants so they’ll be the right length for once.” She nodded. “I’m in no hurry and I can come back if you want me to since Emi has plans.” Clare offered. They were only going to spend a couple of hours at the mall. She kissed him again and again with more passion even though she wasn’t trying to change his mind. Soon as he stopped, Clare let go of him and blushed. “I wasn’t offering to buy lingerie. Just satin cami and shorts sets.” She expected him to sneak into her room for cuddles and making out. Nothing more. Clare smirked at Kota as she got into his car. “Why would I freak out? I didn’t even know who Yohio was. Still don’t really…” She trailed off uncertainly. Clare could’ve found out anything she wanted to know about him online but she didn’t feel comfortable violating his privacy. “Can’t be a model. A designer? Maybe an actress...West Drive’s studio isn’t far from here.” She guessed. Clare knew Murder Bunny was popular locally and in Japan, but she had no idea anyone famous would make a special trip to pick up dresses from Kota. When he helped her out and mentioned it again, she giggled. “I’m not going to embarrass you.” She still wasn’t taking his ‘warning’ seriously. So Clare had to bit down on her lip to suppress a scream when she saw who was waiting for him. She saw a picture on Instagram yesterday of Melanie Martinez’s latest split-dyed hair color, blue on the right side of her head and black on the left. The girl hugging Kota looked identical to the singer, she had the nose ring, tattoos, dark lipstick everything. Clare stared at the older girl as much as she could without breaking her promise. It couldn’t really be THE Melanie Martinez? Kota never let on he was on a first name basis with a big star. Not a single hint all the times they’d listened to her music. What if she’d said not today when he suggested giving her tour?! Clare knew what an endorsement from Melanie meant for MB and she didn’t want to act like a crazy fan so she only smiled at Melanie when he introduced them. “Hi, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I relate to your songs so much, and I love the fairy tale elements like the big bad wolf being a metaphor for something much darker.”

Kota: looked at Clare when she mentioned the manga. "I can see if I can find some for you. I mainly read manga on an app called Manga Meow and most of them were recommended to me. Others just seemed interesting. Just watch what you ready because some are more twisted than others. I do read some dark and twisted ones, but there have been some that were too dark for me to read." he explained and looked at her. "No, but that's mainly our fault. We were invited to join in home ec when the calligraphy teacher was absent, but it didn't go too well. Tanakashi-san ate most of the batter Nakashimi was working on, some boys left in the middle saying it was boring. A few of the boys just slept allowing the girls to make the cookies from them and in the middle of the class Kodomo-san's oven caught fire so we were kicked out for our own good and we're not allowed. I wasn't able to go to the class since the teacher didn't know English and I didn't know Japanese at the time." he chuckled and smiled at her. "Thank you. Tanakashi-san accidentally sets off her anxiety, but at the same time he's helping her with it. They're dating and since they've started dating, she no longer locks herself in lockers and has become more outspoken." he assured. "But there are still some things she's afraid to say. She'll keep it in till the very end, yell it out, then bow as an apology for being loud." he laughed a bit and squeezed her hand when she mentioned buying pants in Japan. "The girls don't wear pants in Japan like ever. There are pants in some styles such as Visual Kei for girls." he laughed. "Sorry I imagined you in the pants and dressed in the Visual Kei style. Visual Kei style is their version of Goth only more dramatic in some aspects or like our Punk rock clothing. All black with chains and bondage belts on the pants, but not too many girls wear the pants even dressed in Visual Kei, they prefer skirts. Other than that your only option is skirts. In the winter girls wear cotton leggings with fleece on the inside." he explained. "I mean I did do an online poll to see how many girls would wear pants in Japan and only like 3 said they would out of millions of girls that took the poll so I'm not making MB pants for girls in Japan, but in some comments they said only Yankee's would wear pants. Yankee is an insult to a Japanese woman, but they'd call you a Yankee because you are, it's basically a term for people who live on this side of the country." he explained and smiled as she spoke. "Ok good because I plan on sneaking in your room once Emi goes to sleep. Also no one knows I'm a virgin in Japan, it's kind of like here. If people found out I'm a virgin I'd have girls offer to sleep with me and guys try to help get me laid. Not too many guys are virgins in Japan after 14 and if you are it's considered an anomaly." he explained. "Girls are the same in some aspects. Most girls lose their virginity at 15 and those that don't lie about it most of the time." he shrugged. "Girls and guys are on a similar level in that aspect." he added. When Clare spoke to Melanie, Kota suppressed a laugh and turned his head to the side away from Clare for a moment. "I'm happy to hear that, Kota did tell me you're a fan." she said and shook Clare's hand before moving beside Kota as they started walking. "So I made the dress with the shoes in mind." he said as she took the shoe box out of the bag and handed him the bag, then the lid holding the shoes in hand. "I love them." she smiled and hugged him again before walking again. "I figured you might." he chuckled. "Did you get a call from Johnny Depp yet?" Mel asked looking up at him. "Why would I get a call from Johnny Depp?" he asked curiously. "Because Johnny Depp was on Jimmy Falon and Jimmy asked for his most memorable fan experience. He told the story of how he met you and your cousin in the UK and how he lectured you both on the plane and called your parents." Melanie laughed. "Mel, that's not funny. To this day I'm still forbidden to get a debit card and I have to show my mom the inside of my wallet when I get home to prove I don't have an obscene amount of cash and it's the same with my brothers now. They kind of hate both of us for it." he explained. "Or they could be mad you came up with the idea first. Besides how does a child obtain enough money to afford two tickets to the UK, a nice hotel room, and food for the two weeks you were there?" she asked. "I cleaned out my bank account. And we would've stayed longer if Johnny didn't ask us about our parents. They didn't even realize we were missing either. Genre was staying at a friend's house and my twin was pretending to be me every now and then." he explained. "Well, he knows your full name since Jimmy saw the picture and said 'Oh that's Dakota Anderson he's the head of Murder Bunny.' and showed off a pair of MB socks he was wearing on his show saying how much he loves them. He also told everyone how he owns an MB jacket too. He has the black varsity one." she explained. "I should get my assistant to find his number and call him asking if he wants me to personalize it for him." he muttered. "Do it! He'll freak out you so need to do it while I'm here and on speaker phone." she exclaimed as they got to his office. "Later?" he asked. "Ok, do you want to go bowling after?" she asked. "I wouldn't mind, but Clare's going to the mall with her friend at some point today." he explained as he got her dresses. "You didn't tell me this on the phone." she said. "You asked if I'm free." he trailed. "Can Kota and I pick you up from the mall then?" Mel asked looking at Clare.