#they will leave 20+ messages on your answering machine in my day...more than any college recruit no matter ho high your academic scores wer

[shallowrambles]

you seem to talk a lot about the military i was wondering your stance on it?

This is a very broad question.

In anti-war, so this naturally means I'm not a fan.

HOWEVER, I'm not entirely anti-soldier because the cultural pomp, circumstance, and glory ascribed to being a soldier is imho often a giant-ass honey trap.

A lot of research has been done on how class intersects with military, and although soldiers are getting more middle-class and richer, there is a class and race element concerning who is more likely to actually see active combat. I have...complicated feelings about that.

The rich folks use you up and spit you out. I think that's a very special kind of evil.

That said, I rant and rave here occasionally, but I don't use Tumblr for my activism, and I don't have plans to either.

It's VERY frustrating to live in a world that is so fast and loose with its resources that it actively perpetuates more warfare.

[clockworkgraystairs]

HERE FOR YOU || Jurdan College AU Pt. 2

Warnings: None. Swearing maybe?

Tags: @slightlyrebelliouswriter23​ @aesthetics-11​ @hizqueen4life​ @duarteegreenbriar​ @mysweetvilllain​ @judexcardanxgreenbriar​ @nite0wl29​ @althekingshorses​ @thewickedkings​ @demydreamer-otaku-and-book-lover​ @thesirenwashere​ @b00kworm​ @acourtofmoonlight​ @queen-of-glass​ @random-llama-socks​ @jurdanhell​ @cardan-greenbriar-tcp​ 

[if I forgot to tag anyone or if you want to be tagged let me know!]

Summary: After finding a very ill and feverish Jude, Cardan takes her to the doctor. And deals with her usual stubbornness.

HFY Masterlist      Pt 1   Pt 2   Pt 3   Pt 4 [coming soon] 

AO3 link

My masterlist

Cardan had never liked doctors. When he was a little kid, his mother had to apologize several times because he kept glaring and calling them creepy warlocks, claiming they cured people using potions that stunk and had a sour flavor. And even though he’d got over that phase of his life, the scent of medicine still gave him a slight skittish sensation. 

Now, after nearly an hour of waiting he was definitely not enjoying himself, except that this time he couldn’t quite tell if the feeling was because of the smell or not knowing what the doctor was telling Jude, making his muscles tense more with every minute that passed.

One part of him wished nothing more than yell at her for being so reckless and not seeking for help earlier. 

The other part though, kept thinking about that morning.  

He and Jude had agreed to meet every monday and  friday at 9:00 am to work on their final project. At the beginning their meetings had place at the school’s library, since they didn’t talk much. Not because he didn’t want to, of course. But after years of confronting Jude at class, he’d learn to give her space when she focused on something. And maybe because she was a little scary too. 

Within time, her frowning glares became curious eyes and her monosyllabic answers, full conversations.

By the third month, they had to look for a new place to meet. The library’s manager, tired of scolding them at least six times a day for talking and laughing too loud, had forbid them to enter the building together. Or being together in there at all.  

That’s how they ended up in a coffee shop near the campus. The place was small and cozy. The owner, an old sweet lady called Joanne, prepared the best cappuccinos Cardan had ever tasted. 

That morning though, he hadn’t been able to take a sip of his beverage. The two cups of coffee steaming on the table seem to mock him as he alternated his gaze between them and the door, waiting for her to arrive. His leg bounced uneasily and he felt his hands sweatier than usual.

 He glanced at the clock. 9:20 am. She was already twenty minutes late. Jude was never late. 

From the kitchen, Joanne whistled cheerfully the song that came out from the speakers. An italian song he couldn’t identify. When her eyes crossed Cardan’s she smiled and gave him an encouraging nod. He shifted on his seat, looking down at the small bunch of flowers he’d bought. The white peonies and daisies rested smoothly on the wooden table.  

Damn her. Of all days, she’d chose this one to be late.

When he woke up that morning, he was thoroughly decided to finally come clean. To finally tell Jude he was in love with her.

He sent her another message. Nothing. 

He called her. No answer. Again. 

Had she forgotten? 

Impossible, they met there twice a week. 

The only possible option left in his mind was that she’d remembered. And didn’t care.  

Anger pooled on his stomach. What an idiot he felt now. They had an agreement, imposed by her by the way, of letting the other one know about any inconvenience. Was he really that insignificant for her he didn’t deserve a simple notice? 

Bottle it up, he said to himself.

That’s when he remembered she’d been absent from class those last two days too. Even professor Noggle asked about her, a thing he didn’t do with most of the students. 

Cardan frowned. In a swift move he stood and walked out. 

He left the money for the coffee on the table, and the flowers next to it. 

The door opened, bringing him back to the present. As Jude walked out of the consulting room, he noticed her pallor had decreased. Not enough to relax him, but it was something. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked, raising to stand next to her. 

She shrugged. “Better, I told you it was nothing. Let’s go.”

“Ah ah,” The doctor started, closing the door behind him. “That’s not exactly what I said young lady.”

Cardan frowned at her. Seriously? Her only answer was a deep sigh and rolling eyes. 

“My exact words were that it didn’t seem like something too serious or life-threatening. Not that it was nothing.” He took a prescriptions block out of his coat and scrawled something in the front page. Jude groaned.  “It’s most likely a severe stomach flu, aggravated by the days it was left untreated. But since the fever was strong, I’d like to wait and see if it settles now.”

“Most likely?” Cardan repeated, his brows pulled together in a frown. What had he paid this clown for, then? 

“Well it’s always good to scrap any other possibility, I took a blood sample from miss Duarte so I can send it to the lab. But I don’t believe it will show any other result.”

He nodded. “So what now? We just wait?”

“Cardan.” Jude mumbled. He didn’t move his eyes from the doctor.

“Pretty much.” He handed him the prescription. “She got an injection for the temperature already. Here are scripted some pills she’ll need to take for the next three to five days, to help with the nausea. And of course, lots of water and electrolytes.”

“Thank you, I’ll get those right away.” She said as she snatched the paper from Cardan’s hand and put it away. 

“Miss Duarte, I’ll recommend you to stay under observation the next two days. Just in case the fever returns and you need immediate assistance.” 

“Of course.” Jude answered nonchalantly, already reaching for the exit. “I’ll let my sister know so she can come over. Thanks.”

Back on his car he drove in silence. ‘Never let me go’ by Florence + The Machine sounded low on the radio. With closed eyes, Jude leaned towards the open window, her brunette locks flying wildly around her head. 

Cardan glanced sidewards at her, forcing himself not to linger too much on her slightly parted lips. His mind went back to the moment she’d collapsed in his arms. Cheeks flushed and burning up in heat. Even if he never admitted it out loud, she’d scared the hell out of him. 

He pulled his attention back to the road and cleared his throat. “I thought both of your sisters were out of town. Is any of them back? I can call them if you like.”

Jude ignored his question. After a moment of silence she whispered. “Why are you doing this?” 

Cardan shrugged.  “It’s a little bit obvious isn’t it?” She quirked an eyebrow at him. “You have our full project on your laptop, Duarte. And it has a password. If you die, then how on earth am I supposed to recover it?”

A punch landed on his arm, followed by a soft chuckle. “Ass. And you don’t need to call anyone. It’s not necessary.”

“Meaning?” Now it was his turn to scowl.

“Meaning,” She sighed. “That I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, you already did more than enough. Besides you’re right, my sisters are far far away from here, right where they should.” 

He couldn’t believe his ears. Earning a honk from the car behind them, Cardan pushed the brake, leading the car aside so it could fully stop on the sideway. 

“Hey, calm down Toretto!” She shouted raggedly, grabbing the door handle for support. “What the fuck!?”

“What the fuck? That’s exactly what I’m asking you, Duarte!” Now he could fully turn to face her incredulous stare. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You passed out a couple of hours ago, you were burning up in fever. Do you realize that? Apparently not, because despite the recommendations, you still insist on not listening!” 

An exasperated sigh left his lungs. He grabbed the wheel tighter, trying to ease the growing pool of rage inside him. Calm down. He’d spent his life telling himself to calm down. Being terrible at expressing his feelings, he was used to get irritated every time he faced pain, or fear. Or pretty much anything, actually. But gods, how could she be so stubborn? 

Jude pressed her mouth into a thin line and looked down, her hands twisting faintly on her lap. She was indeed nervous about whatever illness loomed in her body, he noticed, trying to ignore the lips he so badly wanted to tug between his. 

“I’ll stay with you.” The words left his lips before he fully realized it. 

“You what? Don’t be rid-”

“The doctor said you needed to be under supervision.” He answered turning back to the road, and put his car on march again. She was probably giving him some murdering glare that he prefered to elude. “So you have two options sweetheart, either you let me stay at your place or you come back to mine, but a frat house it’s not exactly a place to rest. You are, by no means, staying alone.”

Half a second later, even the radio was muffled by her incessant ranting. Hardly determined to convince him of doing otherwise. 

Cardan just drove.

~

When he parked next to her building the sun was already setting. 

With her arms firmly folded across her chest Jude hadn’t stopped gritting her teeth all the way back. This was madness, she repeated to herself over and over. 

The man showed up out of nowhere, took her to the doctor, paid for her medicine and now wanted to stay in her apartment? No fucking way. 

The problem now, was that if there was anyone on earth even more stubborn than her, it was Cardan. A man that no matter how many times she asked him to just leave her on the sidewalk and leave, was now walking up the stairs next to her. A satisfied grin on his perfect charming face. If she didn’t feel as weak at the moment she’d slapped his way out of the place. 

Once inside she left the medicines and the gatorades on the table and turned to him. 

“For the hundredth time, Cardan. You don’t have to stay, everything is under control and I’m not feveri- what’s that?” She asked, noticing the hanging object on his shoulder.

“A backpack?” 

She rolled her eyes. “I‘m not blind, you ass. What are you doing with that backpack?”

“I always keep some extra clothes in my trunk. You know, in case I find myself in any unexpected situation.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her in a way that twisted her guts. Ugh, disgusting.

The repulse must’ve been written on her face too because he snickered for a second before throwing it next to the couch. “Becoming your hot nurse certainly fits in the category dear, you can’t deny that.” 

She blinked and pushed back the intrusive thoughts that emerged from his statement. Why was her mind against her today? Maybe the fever had burned her coherency brain cells, if she’d ever had any to begin with.

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“I know.” Cardan dropped himself on the couch, opening a book he’d taken from his pack. “Now take those pills, put on your weird pijama and go rest.” 

Maybe she could still gather the strength to slap him after all.

Trying to ignore the sour flavor that shitty pills left on her mouth, Jude stood in front of the mirror. Wearing the shorts and the t-shirt she’d put on before they went to the doctor, she found herself suddenly worried by her clothing and messy hair. 

Which was utterly absurd. It wasn’t as if he cared at all about her wardrobe choices.

Still, the idea of them sleeping under the same roof unnerved her. It had been a long time since she’d had someone from the opposite sex staying the night. Either way, her exasperating classmate certainly hadn’t crossed her mind.

She bit her lip.

Ok that was a lie. Being honest she might have thought about it a couple of times. Mostly drunk. She always felt guilty the day after. And pissed. It left her wishing she could hate him again, like she did on sophomore year when he was truly a rude idiot. But no matter how hard she’d tried, his wits and dumb jokes had slowly changed her perspective of him. Not to mention those deep dark eyes and wicked smile of his. It only took a pair of tequila shots to start fantasizing about running her lips along that jaw. FINE, it didn’t take any tequilas to do that. But sober she had a tiny bit of control over her too-creative mind. Drunk Jude had already undressed him in her dreams once. Twice?

And now Cardan was outside, lying down on her comfy couch. Staying the night.

Jude chewed her inner cheek. This was a nightmare. 

As quiet as possible, she opened the door and peered outside. He was nowhere to be seen. Maybe some ancient deity took mercy on her and vanished him to oblivion. That or he was probably in the bathroom, so she tiptoed her way to the modest kitchen. 

She’d just finished preparing her chai tea when the bathroom’s door opened. Decided to ignore him, she kept her gaze down. 

At least until she caught a glimpse of him with the corner of her eyes. That, snapped her attention back. Oh no, no no no no.

“CARDAN GREENBRIAR WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

“I...what?” 

“Could you please… I don’t know, maybe put a fucking shirt on?!” She could already feel her blood gathering on her cheeks. 

He paused and quirked an eyebrow. “For your information, Duarte, I tend to sleep naked. These pants are a sign of my consideration to you, since we’re at your place.” 

The goddamn idiot was made of marble. Jude knew he wasn’t precisely one of those big muscular men, not that it meant he didn’t have everything in place. His well formed shoulders and arms were visible even with clothes, and now she could admire the slightly marked muscles of his torso all the way down to the V that disappeared under his pine-green pants. His shoes were off too. 

“Are you blush-” He started, only to be cut by her murderous voice.

“Good night, Cardan.” Taking her cup, she crossed the place with big steps, slamming the bedroom’s door behind her. 

Leaning against the wood, she heard the couch creak as he laid down. Her breathing evened a little a few minutes after. 

Shit, that had been rude. Even if he’d imposed his presence there he was still a guest, her mind scolded her. A really hot guest. No no, don’t think of that now.

As silently as she could she opened the door again. And pressed a hand to her mouth to muffle her laugh at what she saw.  

Cardan’s legs hung over the couch’s arm. Which made sense, considering how tall he was, but right now it only looked bloody ridiculous, and kind of adorable. She tried to ignore the guilt that pierced her heart again. He seemed stiff. An idea shone on her mind. A terrible terrible idea.

“Cardan?” She whispered.

He hummed in response.

She swallowed and walked towards him. “You can’t sleep in there.”

He scoffed and looked at her through hooded eyes, dark and deep made her heart skip a beat. “If you’re trying again to convince me to leave…”

“I’m not.” Jude blurted, passing a hand over her curls. Somehow words seemed to stuck in her throat. “I mean- even when you are completely ignoring me about you not needing to be here… I guess I… What I try to say is-”

“Jude Duarte is babbling. Gods, now I’m intrigued.” He breathed, propping himself on his elbows.

She crossed her arms and tilted her head elusively. It was humiliating how easy it was for him to put her on edge. “Shut up will you? You can’t stay on the couch, it’s small and uncomfortable… And I, well, I happen to own a double bed.” 

Smooth, girl, smooth.

“Trying to lure me into your bed? So soon?” He teased, flashing her a smile, yet his joke didn’t reach his eyes. Something in them was different, they were wider, intense.

“You’re intentionally being an asshole.” She said, gritting her teeth. This time his tricky words and good looks wouldn’t affect her. She couldn’t allow it. “I just meant that we can both sleep there. Like, as far away as the bed allows but at least you could rest.”

For a second he just looked at her. Not mocking or rude, she couldn’t place the expression in his face. His jaw set, chest raising and falling slowly. “You don’t have to, Jude. I’m ok in here.”

“Don’t lie. Besides I’d feel better too. Not because- Ugh, I’d feel better knowing that I could at least make your staying more bearable, I guess.” That wasn’t so bad. Yet. And honestly she couldn’t tell if it was worse if he accepted, or refused. 

Back in her room an awkward silence filled the atmosphere as both laid side to side. Somehow, even if they were not touching, Jude could feel the heat of his skin. Her heart hammered so fast she swore he could listen to it.

“So…” He started.

Panic filled her senses, she needed to cut any conversation before saying or doing something she’d regret later. “There’s no need to mention it, just go to sleep… please.” She rolled onto her side, facing away from Cardan. “Good night.”

Jude barely heard him sigh. “Sweet dreams, Jude.”

~

It was hot. Really really hot. Fuck he couldn’t move. How much had he drank last night?

Wait. No, last night he didn’t go out with Locke. He’d said he would spend the weekend with his girlfriend, at least this month’s. Cardan had stopped mocking him for it long ago. 

Eyes still closed, he grimaced and tried to stretch but something held down his arm. As Cardan became more and more aware of his body, the memories of the day before flashed in his mind. The failed meeting with Jude, the flowers he’d spend almost an hour choosing, her body going limp against him, the useless doctor… Jude offering him her bed to sleep.  

That’s when something tickled his neck, startling him. 

No, not something.

Cardan’s eyes snapped open, he looked down and froze when he realized Jude’s body was pressed flush against him, one of her hands resting on his chest. Somehow their legs impossibly tangled. Terrified, he found his own arm encircling her waist, bare skin touching his fingers since her too big shirt had rolled up in her sleep.  

She shifted a little and her nose brushed his neck again, letting out a small breath that sent hot shivers down his body.

Any knowledge of how to move or think completely forgotten. He stared blankly at the ceiling. 

Fuck fuck fuck shit what the fucking fucks. 

[boymeetsweevil]

SS3 - MYG, Fluff, 1791w

You’re not even supposed to be on the pay roll anymore because you’re supposed to be phasing yourself out of work entirely. There’s a new intern that you’ve been training a few days a week to take over for you until he’s competent enough to let you fully withdraw from your position as secretary to the CEO of Min Corp.

Said intern has just called you with what sounds like tears thickening his voice to inform you that Min Yoongi, said CEO, is terrorizing the employees.

“Jungkook,” you use the same tone you might use to calm down a lost toddler in a grocery store. “Take a deep breath for me please.”

A shaky breath crackles through your phone speaker.

“Good. Now tell me what Yoongi’s doing. What do you mean he’s terrorizing people?”

“Yoongi—I mean, Mr. Min has made three separate IT workers cry because of jammed printer and he sent the head accountant into a panic attack with a request for a two week advance on the quarter reports.”

You sigh and lift a hand that was submerged in the fragrant bath you’d drawn to pinch at the bridge of your nose.

“Did you read the 3rd section of the binder I gave you? There should be stuff in there for when we need to increase speed in specific departments. There’s outside agents we can enlist—”

“I called them, and they’ve agreed to come help out and I’ve gotten the paperwork for their payments ready.”

“Okay. What about the printer?”

“I unjammed it myself. It s-seems to be working fine.”

“Good! So just tell him and I’m sure that’ll solve things.”

“I don’t—I don’t feel super comfortable talking to him right now.”

“Jungkook, I told you that Yoongi is normally very rational. If you tell him the problem’s solved, there’s nothing to be scared of.”

“Sorry, you’re right.”

He’s quiet then. The sound of paper small clinks in the background grab your attention.

“What’s that sound?”

“It’s nothing!”

“Jungkook.”

“It’s not a big deal. I just...he also,” Jungkook sniffs a meek little sound, “knocked over my lego replica of the office. It was an accident though—”

“I’ll leave in 5 minutes. Don’t let him leave his office, barricade the door if you have to.”

It’s defeated tone of voice that makes you get out of the tub you were soaking in. Water gets everywhere and the calming atmosphere you had painstakingly set up so you could have a lazy morning and afternoon is long gone.

Jungkook barely has any time to protest or beg you not to mention him calling you before you hang up.

Normally Yoongi is all bark and no bite. There’s no need to bite when his reputation as a former gangbanger preceded him so well. Too well, in some cases. Yoongi came from almost nothing and turned to illegal activities as a child in an act of desperation to care for his ailing mother. He’d learned about (legal) business after one of his elderly bosses took a liking to him and showed him some of the ropes.

Even after he started getting out of the gang and getting interested in business, it took years to get past the fearful glances and rejections that so many people in the industry sent his way. It was only after a lucky investment that he was able to start building his business from scratch.

Now, he’s able to care for his family and provide means for his employees to do the same while running a successful head hunting firm. When you were fresh out of college and looking for work anywhere, he was the only one that took a chance on your meager application. He was ruthless back then, but so were you.

So in 9 years of acting as his right hand, it was inevitable that you would learn about his past. No one else at the company knew that it nearly cost him his life to start this new chapter. He has the scar on his shoulder to prove it. Sometimes when it gets close to a certain time of year the memory of what he almost lost creeps over him.

When you finally arrive you find Jungkook gnawing on his thumb as he eyes the door to Yoongi’s office unblinkingly. The walls of the office are soundproofed to protect the confidentiality of his clients when he has important meetings and phonecalls, but you can still hear the way he snarls into the phone.

“How long has he been like that,” you ask as you hang up your coat behind Jungkook’s desk. The lego office lies in a heap of probably more than a thousand pieces in a pilfered custodian’s bucket. You can’t help but frown.

“About 20 minutes on the phone. Maybe a few hours today in general.”

“Alright. I'll go in.”

“Is that safe,” he eyes you with poorly hidden awe as you move towards the door.

“Is a zookeeper safe when they enter a tiger’s cage?”

“No?”

“That’s your answer, I guess.”

“Seokjin, I don’t give a flying fuck about the new cases. I gave those to your team weeks ago. Bring me an update on the Simmons case, or I swear I’ll come down there and pull it out your ass myself.”

The sound of the door to the office closing has him rushing to end the call so he can redirect the yelling. He tosses his phone back onto the glass surface of his desk with a harsh crack and turns to face the skyline in the window, his back facing you.

“I thought I told you I don’t want any more of that shit you call tea. It’s doing fuck all to calm me down so why don’t you—”

“Mr. Min, please take a seat.”

The line of his shoulders, already grimly hunched, shoots up further. He clearly wasn’t expecting you. It’s your day off. Technically.

“What are you doing here?” His voice is still low and tense, but the volume is significantly softer.

“Please take a seat, Mr. Min.”

There’s no need for pretenses when the two of you are alone. You could curse him with the foulest language you have for being an ass to the people who keep his company functioning like the well oiled machine that it is. But you know that your message is that much louder by using your professional voice with him.

He turns then, dark brows set heavy over stormy eyes. It would be incredibly intimidating if it weren’t for the slight turn in his lower lip giving him a subtle petulant expression. Someone’s having a bad day.

Grumbling the entire time, Yoongi takes himself to the long leather sofa that rests off to the side of the office. You make your way over to the couch as well after peering at his desk. It’s covered in papers as if he dumped onto the table one of the folders that he normally organizes with great care. The collection of expensive fountain pens that he’s received as gifts from various successful deals lay strewn about as well. And there’s a hairline crack running through the surface of the ornate globe he received as a birthday gift from one of his old bosses.

When you finally come to stand behind him, the grumbling has been replaced with silent fuming. His arms are crossed and his silk tie hangs like a dead snake around his neck after being roughly undone.

With no words, you reach forward and slide the shoulders of his jacket down  his arms. 

“You don’t have to,” he sighs a moment later. If you listen closely you can already hear the embarrassment from letting his emotions get the best of him.

Ignoring him, you dig your fingers into the meat of his shoulders. He jumps and lets out a hiss as you drag the pads of your fingers over the raised skin of his scar beneath the fine cotton of his button down. A low curse leaves his lips but nothing more comes out as you continue to untangle the muscles that had somehow knotted up impressively during the few hours of the day that had passed. You can only imagine how painful the actual injury is despite it having healed a little more than a decade ago. 

It takes a while and your hands cramp up with the amount of force you’re using to massage the pain away. When there’s merely a phantom ache, he raises a hand to grasp one of yours. The action has you freezing up this time. He turns his head so the soft skin of his cheek brushes against your wrist. His cheeks are damp from a few pained tears he shed. His lips press dryly against the back of your palm and he turns more so he can pull your hand forward. It’s awkward but he doesn’t care. So long as he can pepper small kisses against your hands.

“Come back to work,” he says finally. 

“No.”

“Marry me, then.” There’s no flair, no drama. He says it like he’s asking you to run an errand with him.

“No. And stop always asking me that.”

“I’ll stop asking when you stop saying no.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Well, you’ve never given a reason. I deserve that at least.”

He turns to face you then with eyes that are just a tad bit shiny. All of the sharp, feline essence gone when replaced by frustration that’s still plenty fond.

“Because I don’t feel like it yet. And it’s fun to tell you no.”

From this angle, you can see the very top of the tiger tattoo he got when he was not yet a man. It peaks out of from underneath his collar. You pick up his tie and loop it back around his neck while he’s distracted.

“Have pity on me” he lays his cheek back on your wrist as you finish up a simple Windsor knot. “I’m just a simple man who wants to settle down with the love of his life.”

“How about you go apologize to everyone for your outburst,” he winces but looks properly ashamed. “And then maybe I’ll think about it.”

“Fine.”

“And make sure you give a special apology to Jungkook for ruining his replica.”

“To the temp, are you kidding me? The kid put it on the edge where it was begging to get broken. I’m pretty sure the tail of my jacket did it.”

“Just do it, Yoongi.”

He leans in then, nose brushing against yours. “Say yes and I’ll even hire someone to rebuild it for him.”

“Go apologize already.”

He huffs but strides to the door with purpose.

“Promise you’ll think about it?”

“I’ll think about it.”

[ohblackdiamond]

little t&a (paul/gene, nc-17) (part 1 of 29)

part 1   part 2   part 3   part 4   part 5   part 6   part 7   part 8   part 9   part 10   part 11   part 12   part 13   part 14   part 15   part 16   part 17   part 18   part 19   part 20   part 21  part 22   part 23   part 24    part 25   part 26   part 27   part 28   part 29 Four weeks before KISS gets back on tour, Gene discovers that Paul’s been cursed by a groupie. For the sake of KISS’ finances, Paul’s comfort level, and Gene’s libido, this situation must be rectified. Sexswap fic.

Notes: This has been on the backburner pretty much since the quarantine started. I really wrestled with posting it at all since it’s a weird premise, and most of my fics have a more realistic bent, but I decided that if it perked me up while working remotely, eating ramen, and feeling like I was back in uni in all the worst ways (when was I in uni? why, during the Great Recession!)-- then maybe it’d perk someone else up, too. So here we are.

           Gene really didn’t think too much of it at first when Paul vanished just after the tour. He didn’t take it personally, the way Peter did, and he didn’t get too quizzical about it like Ace did. The whole band was burnt-out on each other. The days where they had to share hotel rooms were gone, and the days where they wanted to share vacations were gone, too. Gene couldn’t pinpoint when it had gotten like that, and it made him a little regretful, sure, but it was just another inevitability. The Beatles had made it ten years before imploding, all those hurt egos just smushing together and screwing everything up. KISS had four years under its belt now, and already he could feel things faltering.

           So maybe Paul was trying to ease all that via his disappearing act. Spend his tour break at home, probably with a bevy of girls lining up at his front porch, and come back refreshed and ready for another nine-month stretch with only a wall between him and his bandmates, assuming Ace and Peter didn’t tear a hole in it on a drunken whim. It made sense. The first time Paul didn’t return his phone call (the tinny sound of his $400 answering machine the only response), Gene wasn’t concerned. The second time, Gene assumed Paul had gone to a disco, or was spending the night at some chick’s house. The third time, Gene immediately called up Bill, who said he hadn’t heard from Paul, either.

           That was cause for concern. Paul could, and did, blow off anybody but their manager. Still, Gene figured he’d give it one more day, and one more lay, before he started to investigate.

           That was the plan, until he got his mail late one morning. There was always a fat stack of it. The actual sackfuls of fan mail would end up at some office, where a poor secretary was stuck stuffing envelopes with their pictures and a canned response. Sometimes a real sleuth would find his address, and he’d open those out of sheer novelty, when he had the chance, only to be disappointed when the writer turned out to be a twelve-year-old who’d spent his paper route money on several books of stamps, and mailed the same letter out to every Gene Simmons in the greater New York phone book. Every so often he’d get the good stuff, like a saucy letter from a college girl, with photos and pubic hair taped inside. “See you next time in Sacramento.” He never wrote them back, but he’d put the photos in a separate album from his conquests. Almost a hope chest of photos, there.

           Gene thumbed through the newsletters and errant bills so quickly he nearly missed it. A glossy postcard, with Buckingham Palace on the front. It couldn’t have been a piece of fan mail, but he didn’t know anyone who’d bother writing him, either. He flipped it over out of curiosity. Weird.

           He recognized the scratchy longhand before he got to the signature. Not that it took long. Thee address was almost lengthier than the postcard message.

           “Gene—Do you know anything about curses? Write me back soon. Thanks, Paul.”

--

           He called up Peter about it that afternoon, still baffled. He didn’t really think Peter would have any insight on it—Paul and Peter hadn’t been as close as they used to be, though that went for everyone—but he surprised him.

“I haven’t heard from him. I figured you had.” Peter was chewing gum as he spoke. Gene could hear the smacks through the receiver. “Why the fuck would he send you a postcard? You live closer to him than I do.”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

“Talking about curses…” Peter trailed. “Shit, I went over there last week. Didn’t call him up first, just thought I’d go over like I used to. I banged on the door and some chick came out and screamed at me to go away. I told her who I was and she just stared at me.”

           “Paul doesn’t pick girls for brains.”

           “It was kinda weird, though. Picky bastard usually gets blondes.”

           “What, was she a brunette?”

           “Yeah, real dark, curly hair—you don’t think he’s shacked up with her, do you? Some New Age type, turning him on to something funny? ’Cause he doesn’t usually want ’em sticking around, either, and I stopped by after lunch…”

           Evidently, Peter paid more attention to Paul’s habits with girls than Gene ever had.

“I don’t know. Was she cute?”

“Yeah. She had nice tits.”

           Of course she did. Gene rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand.

           “I’m gonna look into this. I’ll let you know if I can’t get in touch with him.”

           “Sure.” There was a slight hesitation. “Hey, thanks for calling me. I thought he was pissed at me or some shit. But I guess he’s pissed at everybody.”

           Gene privately feared it was worse than that. If Paul had gotten a girlfriend, one serious enough he was ignoring everyone and everything else, even the looming tour, for her sake… well, that didn’t make sense, not unless she’d conned him into something. There were still plenty of cults and communes all over the place, the leftover remnants of disillusioned hippies. They’d join fringe churches or create their own religions and live in tents on the side of the road. He didn’t think Paul would have fallen into something like that, unless the girl had spruced it up with a bunch of psychobabble and talk therapy. Paul dug astrology and self-help, but it wasn’t something he’d trade his lifestyle for. Was it?

           “I’ll find out. I’ll see you, Pete.”

           He hung up, then dialed his chauffeur. An hour or so later, he was pulling up to Paul’s.

--

           He told the chauffeur not to wait on him. If Paul was at his house, he’d make him drive him back. It turned out they weren’t Paul’s only visitors. Ahead of them, walking up the driveway, was a kid carrying two grocery bags, his bicycle parked in the grass.

           Gene didn’t normally have an issue making his presence known. But he held back, curious. He wanted to see who would open the door—that supposed live-in girlfriend, some other chick, or Paul himself. As the chauffeur drove away, he hung back a bit, tucking himself behind a tree at the edge of the front of the house, near the front porch. The kid didn’t seem to notice.

           He watched the kid—he was probably about eleven—ring the doorbell with his elbow. After a couple seconds, the door opened, a girl in a blue bathrobe walking out, shutting the door behind her. Gene recognized the bathrobe as one of Paul’s, though she filled it out better than he ever had. She wasn’t even wearing anything beneath it that he could tell, cleavage obvious, the loosely-tied bathrobe hiding none of it. Curly, dark hair—Gene wondered if this was the girlfriend, or bedmate, that Peter had seen earlier. No telling.

           “How much was it?” she asked the kid.

           “Eight twenty-five.”

           “You have the receipt?”

           The kid pulled out the receipt. The girl looked at it, nodded, then took a wallet from the pocket of Paul’s bathrobe, tugging out a couple bills.

           “Here’s nine. Keep the change.”

           “Thanks.” The kid paused. “I thought somebody famous was supposed to live here.”

            “You thought wrong.” The girl took the two bags of groceries and turned back towards the door, trying to use her elbow to turn the knob. The kid was already back on his bicycle. As he kicked the stand up, he called back out to her over his shoulder.

           “Hey, you gonna need groceries next week, too?”

           “I hope not.” She set both bags on the front porch. The kid nodded, waving as he started down the driveway. The girl didn’t wave back, busy opening the door.

           Now was Gene’s chance. He stepped out from behind the tree and walked to the front porch as the girl picked up one of the grocery bags again.

           “Hey.”

           She turned around immediately. Her eyes got big.

           “Shit—Gene!”

           She recognized him. That didn’t narrow it down. She looked familiar, somehow—she wasn’t a Playmate, Gene always recognized those—maybe a model, or a groupie? But Paul didn’t bring those home. Gene raised a finger to his mouth.

           “Shh. Look, I’m here to see Paul. Is he in?”

           “Wh—no. No, sorry.” A tense, quick smile. Definitely not a model. Only Ali MacGraw could manage to make it with crooked teeth.

           “Can you tell me when he’ll be back?”

           “I have no idea. I don’t know where he is.”

           “So he just left you over here?”

           The girl set the bag down, folding her arms. Something about the mannerism made an eerie feeling prickle down the back of Gene’s spine.

“Are you telling me I can’t be here?”

           “No!” Gene pursed his lips. “Look, I don’t care who he’s with. But we’re supposed to go back on tour in a couple weeks and—”

           “I know!”

           “That’s great. So maybe it might be nice to know where he is beforehand.”

           The girl bristled.

           “I told you, I have no idea! I just—can’t you leave me alone?”

           “You’re living in his house, wearing his bathrobe—that wasn’t even your wallet, was it?”

           “Hey!”

           Gene scrambled for it. The girl was fairly tall; he probably only had about five or six inches on her, but she wasn’t quick. He grabbed her shoulder with one hand, then jammed his other hand into the bathrobe’s pocket, starting to tug the wallet out. She clenched his arm, nails digging in roughly, not nearly hard enough for him to drop the wallet.

           “Stop it! Let go of me, you goddamn idiot!”

           She shoved forward, stomping on his foot. Gene couldn’t feel that much of an impact, given the thickness of his boots. He kept a grip on her shoulder as he got the wallet fully in hand, opening it up as she screamed at him.

           “You don’t understand, Gene! It’s not what you’re thinking!”

           Unsurprisingly, Paul’s driver’s license photo was the first thing staring back at him from the see-through plastic card slot. Eisen, Stanley B. (God, the guy still hadn’t legally gotten his name changed) printed across it. Beyond the license was a handful of credit and business cards, as if Gene really needed to thumb through them for any further confirmation.

           “You stole his wallet.”

           “I didn’t steal it!”

           She had a lisp, Gene noticed out of nowhere.

          “Like hell you didn’t. Where is he?”

           “I told you, I don’t—”

           She jerked back abruptly, digging her nails deeper into his arm. He didn’t let go, but his hand shifted, accidentally yanking the bathrobe down at the shoulder. The girl’s eyes got huge. One of her breasts was exposed, which would’ve been plenty distracting enough, under normal circumstances, but for once, Gene’s eyes went to her bare shoulder first.

           More specifically, the rose tattoo on her bare shoulder.

           It wasn’t possible. It had to be a coincidence. He only saw the tattoo for a second at best, before she smacked his hand away and yanked the bathrobe back into place, covering her shoulder.

           It didn’t prove anything. But in a nice, W.A.S.P.y neighborhood like Paul’s, how many chicks had tattoos? And how many would have one like that, a Lyle Tuttle tattoo, when Lyle’s shop was clear across the country?

           She looked pissed-off. Scared, too. Something about the tight, sour way her lips were pressed together seemed weirdly familiar. The way she was acting didn’t add up. She’d called him by his first name on automatic. No deference or starry-eyed behavior. This girl didn’t give a damn about him being a rockstar. Those caustic responses made it come off like—like she really knew him.

That prickly feeling down his spine was only getting worse, even as he tried to dismiss it as impossible. If Gene was right, what he was about to do was incredibly cruel. If he was wrong, he’d just owe Paul Stanley’s latest chick a sincere apology. He wasn’t sure which option was worse.

           But he had to know. He let go of the bathrobe and quickly shoved his hand through the girl’s tangled, curly hair, starting just at the temple, lifting it up to fully expose the right side of her face. The abject horror in her dark brown eyes might have been confirmation all on its own, but the damage was already done. He’d already pushed back enough of her hair to see what he’d only ever been told about before.

“Gene, y-you fucking asshole!”

Not an inch past one wispy sideburn was a stub of cartilage where her right ear should have been.

           He wasn’t dealing with Paul’s girl of the duration. He was dealing with Paul.

[calpalirwin]

Mixtapes

Summary: You were just a seventeen year old girl with an incredible knack for learning when you crashed into Ashton Irwin. It was hard for him not to fall for a girl who was as phenomenal as you were and it was hard for you not to fall for a man who thought you were so much more than a girl four and half years his junior. Maybe age really was just a number. After all, you wouldn’t be seventeen forever.

A/N: @carebearofriddles​ shared this lovely idea with me, so I’ve been happily bringing this to life (she has the BEST ideas y’all!). It’s a longer blurb, but I hope you’ll enjoy reading it all the same.

And away, and away we go!

~~~

“Focus, Y/N,” your coach told you from behind the batting cage. “Breathe in, out, swing. You got this.”

You nodded your head, your cleats digging into the dirt as you adjusted your feet ever so slightly. Your loosened and tightened your grip on your bat, looking for that sweet spot. Your gaze shifted to the scout manning the pitching machine. This is it, Y/N, don’t blow it. You took in a slow breathe. “Pitch,” you instructed. You let out your breath as the ball came flying at you. Muscle memory took over as your bat left your shoulder, your body pivoted, and the ball clanged off your bat and soared into the back off the batting cage, rattling the fence when it stuck.

“Dang,” the scout whistled. “How old are you, again?”

“17,” you beamed proudly.

“Welcome to the USA Olympic Softball team, Y/N. We’re happy to have you.”

~~~

You couldn’t stop grinning. You had been playing softball since you were old enough to swing a bat. You were graduating high school next month- a year early- and were already accepted to your local state university to their psychology program and their softball team. And now, you’d be training to go play in the summer Olympics next year. Life, you decided, was pretty damn sweet.

To channel the euphoric emotions coursing through you, after a shower and change of clothes, you set out to create a musical piece.

It wasn’t much, as you never put lyrics in your pieces, choosing to let the music speak for itself in it’s raw and unaltered form. You had been playing instruments almost as long as you had been playing softball. Piano you had picked up first, courtesy of a Christmas gift for piano lessons. Drums you had learned shortly after, when you got caught pounding on your older brother’s kit and instead of pounding you, he taught you. Bass had been a recent acquisition, this time thanks to your softball coach who took an interest in your interests off the field.

Your apparent genius had a name: Savant Syndrome. And while it earned you more than your fair share of stares and whispers, you were humble. While your ability certainly gave you an edge, no one could deny how hard you worked to be at the top of your game. Gifted or not, you worked just as hard, if not harder, than anybody else. And it was paying off in ways you had only dreamed about.

~~~

Your announcement of punching your ticket to the Olympics quickly threw you into the spotlight.

“So, Y/N, you are 17, is that correct?” the interviewer asked you.

You nodded. “Yes.”

“And you’re starting at your local university here in a few months, yes?”

Again, you nodded. “Yeah, I graduated high school back in June, so I’ll be attending the local university here in another month.”

“Congratulations. What will you be studying?”

“Psychology.”

“And is it safe to assume you’ll be playing softball?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“So, Y/N. You’re a 17 year old girl. What do you do when you’re not playing softball? Mall with your friends? Dating?”

You laughed. “Yeah, I hang out with my friends. But, in my spare time, I like to make music.”

“So, no boyfriend, then?”

You laughed again, not sure what else to do. Was this going to be your life? Dodging questions about your dating life, or lack thereof? “I’m a little busy for that. The music keeps me pretty busy.”

“Music? I thought you played softball?”

You held back an eye roll. Did interviewers even listen if it wasn’t the answer they wanted to hear? “I do a lot more than just play softball,” you answered, getting a little annoyed now.

“Like what?”

You were going to scream. Instead, you forced a smile. “I make music. I study for classes. I hang out with my family and friends. I just keep my head down and keep busy.”

~~~

“That was such bullshit,” you growled at your coach after the interview was over.

“I know, Y/N, but you did great. You kept a cool head.”

“Is that what I have to look forward to? Questions about boys and dating?”

“You’re a pretty teenage girl, Y/N. So, unfortunately yes.”

“That’s bullshit…”

“I know. Go channel it.”

So you did, in the form of a drum heavy, pissed off, 8 minute rant.

~~~

“Oh, my bad!” you apologized as you stopped in your tracks, after almost colliding with the tall man in front of you. You looked up and your eyes locked on a hazel gaze underneath a cloud of long brown curls. You knew exactly who this was. “Holy shit… you’re…” you breathed.

“You good?” Ashton Irwin asked, nodding at the stain seeping into your shirt, from your knocked over drink.

You looked down at your shirt. “Oh, yeah,” you laughed nervously. “Only water. Is your beer okay?”

“No harm, no foul,” he said. “Can I buy you a new water?”

“Oh, you don’t have to,” you brushed him off.

“Nah, it’s my fault you’re wearing your drink. I wasn’t looking where I was walking.”

“It’s okay, honestly,” you assured him.

“I won’t take no for an answer, Y/N,” he smiled, his dimple showing, and you felt your heart race in your chest. Ashton Irwin wanted to buy you a new water and he knew who you were? Wow…

“You… you know who I am?” you asked as you walked faster to keep up with his long strides as he went in search of a drink stand.

“Course I do. Big fan of the Olympics.”

“I haven’t even gone yet.”

“I know. I like to keep updated on who’s going. Word on the street is, you’re gonna win your team the gold. Powerful swing, fast feet, quicker hands. Phew, you’re dangerous, sweetheart.”

“I’m not that good,” you mumbled as your cheeks flushed.

“Aw, she’s modest, too,” he grinned. “You’re phenomenal. Don’t let anyone tell you any different. 1 water please.”

Your cheeks flushed a deeper red as he handed you the water bottle. “Thanks.”

“See you around, Y/N,” he winked, placing a hand on your shoulder before disappearing in the crowd.

You took a drink of your water. What the hell had just happened?

~~~

Good luck, Y/N! your phone pinged.

Ash? How did you know I was playing today? you messaged back, holding back a grin. He had messaged you for the first time shortly after your run-in, and he messaged you at least once a day either to wish you luck or to remind you that you were phenomenal. You had already written 2 songs about him. Lovestruck ones about how sweet he was, and how it could never happen because you were 17, and he had just turned 22.

Gotta keep tabs on my favorite girl.

Your face flushed. Ash, you really shouldn’t say things like that.

But it’s true. Let me take you out for coffee when you get home. I miss you.

Ash, you barely know me.

Bullshit. We’re famous, sweetheart. Everybody knows us.

~~~

“Stop!” you giggled, throwing a straw wrapper at him.

“What you did! You were phenomenal out there. As always.”

You kept giggling. You had been friends with Ashton for almost 8 months now. Friends as your age gap was still a big concern for you. But, there was no denying the chemistry that was between the two of you. “I’m really not.”

“Hey! What did I tell you? You are phenomenal. Don’t let anybody tell you otherwise. That includes you.”

“But if I do that, then I won’t have you to remind me,” you smiled over at him.

“Oh, I’ll always remind you. Don’t worry about that.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” he said, then his lips were on yours. A brief, soft kiss. You were about to melt into it, but your brain screaming at you that this was wrong was too much to ignore.

“No!” you gasped, pulling away. “Ash, no… Don’t do that…”

“What? Don’t kiss you? Y/N, do you know how long I’ve been waiting to do that?”

“Ash… I’m… you’re… we’re…”

“You turned 18 yesterday,” he reminded you.

“You’re still way older than me! This… this… no. No, Ash.”

“Really? You’re still gonna pull the age-gap card? You’re 18! And don’t you dare sit there and say you haven’t been thinking about kissing me.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he was right. Of course you had thought about kissing him. You had 7 songs sitting on your computer that were all about him and wanting to kiss him. Songs he would never hear. “Ash, we live totally different lives. We can’t do this.”

“Different lives? Yes, okay. You’re in college, and I’m a rockstar. Sure. But we’re both in the public eye. We’re still really good friends. Friends who have more than friends feelings towards each other.”

“No!”

He sighed. “Alright. Fine.”

After that encounter you had 8 songs about him.

~~~

“Move in with me.”

“What?!”

“Move. In. With. Me.”

“Ash!”

“Y/N!”

“I can’t just move in with you!”

“Yes you can! You’re going to be a sophomore in college, you can’t possibly like staying in that crapped dorm. I have plenty of room at my place. Plenty of privacy, too, as I’m hardly ever home.”

“I’m not dating you, Ashton.”

“I’m not asking you to, Y/N.”

“Good. As long as we both know that I’m moving in as a friend.”

He put up his hands in surrender. “Just friends.”

Your eyes narrowed at your “friend” and his hazel eyes that were full of trouble. “Fine. I’ll move in with you.”

“Great! I’ll help you pack.”

~~~

“No! I’m not ready! Can’t you understand that!” you screamed at Ashton.

“This is bullshit! You’re 20 years old, Y/N! We’re not those same kids from 2 and a half years ago! Nobody cares about the stupid age gap!” he screamed back, his eyes shining with tears.

“I do! I care! I just turned 20! You’re gonna be 25! That’s a huge difference!”

“No, it isn’t! Not to me anyway!”

“Well, good for you!”

“I can’t do this… God, I can’t keep doing this! Grow up, Y/N.” He grabbed his jacket and stormed towards the front door.

“What?! You’re just gonna leave?! Ashton, get back here!”

“I need to get to the studio, Y/N,” he said, his voice suddenly soft. “We can talk more when I get back, but honestly, I don’t know if I’m going to want to. I just… I need space. Hell, maybe we both do.” And with that, you were left alone in your shared home, wondering if it was even yours anymore. You were losing him, as a roommate, as a friend, as a potential lover, and for what? For being too afraid of your feelings? No, that wasn’t good enough. Ashton was right. It was time to grow up and stop being a scared little kid. You were phenomenal and it was time to start acting like it. So, you did what you did best. You created music. And this time, he was going to hear you.

Your fingers shook as you typed out the message.

If you show this to anyone, I’m moving out, and you’ll never hear from me again. It’s called You, Me, Us.

Before you could overthink, you attached the audio file and hit send. “Please don’t break my heart,” you whispered before shutting off your phone, terrified of the response.

Ashton’s phone pinged and he was grateful for the interruption. They were stuck on making the last song for the album and nothing they were making seemed like it was good enough. When he saw the notification was from you, he grabbed his headphones and excused himself into a different room.

He read the message first, his heart soaring. He knew how private you kept your music, never letting him so much as catch you doing something as simple as playing. Music was the one thing you had always kept just for yourself. He hit play on the 9 minute audio clip, your voice sounding out, “Alright, Ash… this has been a long time coming, but uh.. Yeah. Here it goes.” The clip was bass heavy, a drum beat looping on repeat, a little upbeat feel from the piano kicking in throughout.

If his heart had soared at your message, it ripped out of his chest with your music. A wordless melody that expressed 2 and a half years worth of emotion you felt towards one man- him. He scrambled around for loose pieces of paper, penning out a response as he hit repeat.

He was on his third listen, his response nearly complete when Calum’s “There you are, mate! We’ve been looking all over for you,” startled him.

“Jesus, Cal!” he exclaimed, a hand flying to his chest, hitting pause and slipping his headphones around his neck. “Damn near gave me a heart attack…”

“Were you crying? You okay?”

Ashton touched a hand to his face, his cheeks wet. Shit, he didn’t even notice, he had been so lost. Ashton sniffed and wiped at his face. “Yeah, I’m good, mate. I think.”

Calum raised an eyebrow, not sure what to believe, so he just dropped it in favor of wondering what his friend had been up to. “What’s this?” he asked, his Vans tapping lightly against the thrown about papers.

“Our last song,” Ashton grinned.

Calum picked up one of the pieces, scanning the title. “Part 2? When did we write Part 1?”

“We didn’t. She did.”

“Oh, shit…” Calum breathed, realizing the weight of the situation. “C’mon, let’s get this recorded for her.”

“Mike, you ready for a solo?” Ashton asked, once he and Calum went into the other room where Luke and Mike were in the midst of a guitar riff-off.

Mike’s note came to a definitive finish. “Solo?”

Ashton nodded, waving the lyrics in his hand. He would sing it himself, but his solo songs didn’t lend themselves well to being added to setlists and this was definitely one he wanted to play on tour. And he knew Mike would be able to get the emotion he needed and deserved a song on the album to showcase more than his incredible guitar playing, even if the man didn’t agree he had the best singing voice. “I only got the words, but I figure we can pair it with some heavy drums, a bitchin bass line, and some piano work. What do you guys say?”

“I say let’s make a hit!” Luke said, excited to have something to work with.

An hour later the four men sat around booth while their song played out around them, grins on their faces. “We gotta make this a single,” Luke said.

“Oh, yeah,” Mike agreed.

“Y/N gets writing credit,” Ashton told them.

“What? She didn’t write this. She’s not even here,” Mike laughed.

“She doesn’t even go here!” Luke added with a laugh of his own.

“Quit quoting Mean Girls,” Calum said with an eye roll. “You idiots do know that this title has Part 2 in it right? Y/N gets credit.”

“Shit, she wrote part 1? Where is it?” Mike asked, his green eyes wide in excitement.

“Not a chance, Mikey. Y/N trusted me that nobody besides me would hear Part 1. Now, get that on a CD for me so I can go home to my girl.”

“Your girl? What? Are you guys finally dating?!” Mike asked, his fingers inching towards Ashton’s phone.

“I dunno, mate, but I’m gonna try,” Ashton told him, moving his phone away from Mike’s hands. “Now, give her writing credit. Put it on the album. Release it as a single. And give me my damn song.”

“I thought it was Y/N’s song,” Luke teased.

“It’s our song,” he corrected, meaning Y/N and himself. Then, “Mikey, so help me God, I will break your fingers if you so much as look at my phone. No one is hearing that song.”

His hand dropped. “But… I need Part 1 to know how to sing Part 2!”

“You sang it fine, mate. Touch the phone, and I’ll break every bone in your damn hands. Are we all in agreement? This song wouldn’t exist without her.”

“Yeah, mate. Single. Album. Writing credit. Here’s her song. Go get your woman,” Calum said, tossing Ashton the CD.

“Let me hear the song!” Mike screamed after the older man as Ashton grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.

“I mean it, Mike. Hands. Broken. Nobody hears Part 1 but Y/N and me.”

~~~

“Y/N? Are you home?” Ashton’s voice called throughout the house. His hand clutched around the CD case, shaking with his nerves. When he didn’t hear you, he went searching, scared he wouldn’t find you, that you had left anyway after your fight earlier that morning. “Y/N,” he breathed, sighing in relief as he found you on your bedroom floor, a suitcase open.

Tears where in your eyes, and you didn’t dare look at him, for fear of crying again. You had been crying all day. “I’ll be done in a minute,” you sniffed.

He crossed the room to you and wrapped you in his arms. “What are you doing, gorgeous girl?” he whispered.

“Giving you your space,” you whispered back, still refusing to look at him. “God, I’m such an idiot…”

“Y/N, you are the smartest person I know. Now, slow down a second. What’s wrong?”

“Everything!” you screamed suddenly, your composure shattering into a million pieces. Why did it feel like he was holding you together? Why did you like it so much? Why were you so in love with a man you could never have? Why was he in love with a stupid kid? “Let me go!”

His response was to hold you tighter as you thrashed against him. “Y/N, stop,” his voice urged. “You’re gonna hurt yourself, baby.”

“I don’t care!” you continued to scream. “Stop calling me that! Stop calling me gorgeous! Stop calling me baby! Stop calling me phenomenal! Let me go! I don’t care!”

“No! I love you, Y/N! And I’m never letting you go.”

His words startled you. He had never said those words to you. All your fights about whether or not you should be together, and he had never said those words. “You what?”

“I love you, Y/N,” he repeated, before crushing his lips to yours.

This time, when you melted into him, the nagging voice telling you this was wrong stayed silent. Your arms wrapped around his neck, holding him to you, as his arms held you tightly, both of you a tangled puddle on your bedroom floor. “I love you too, Ash,” you said when the kiss finally broke, breathless, your lips tingling.

“Good. I have something for you,” he said, getting up and putting the CD into your stereo.

“You wrote me a song?”

“Call it Part 2,” he smiled before he hit play and left the room for you to enjoy the next 3 minutes and 3 seconds in peace.

You were crying before Mike even started singing. By the time the verse hit, you were dancing, the tears falling freely down your face. By the time the song ended, you had no doubt in your mind that you were going to be love with Ashton Irwin for as long as the world kept on spinning.

You went to start the song over, but clapped your hand over your mouth instead. Only Mike’s voice was singing the song, with only Ashton’s voice harmonizing in the background. Mike had done a fabulous job, but in order to the song justice, he deserved to hear Part 1. Which meant you had to share the most vulnerable part of you with someone who wasn’t Ashton. “Oh, no…”

“What? What’s wrong?” Ashton said, sticking his head in, worry written all over his face.

“It’s beautiful,” you told him, throwing your arms around him.

“So, why are you crying then?”

“I have to let Mikey hear Part 1.”

“I, uh… I might have…”

“Ashton!” you growled. “I trusted you!”

“And I didn’t show him! I told him I’d break his fingers if he so much as looked at my phone! I don’t think he’s gonna want to listen cuz of that.”

“Call him over. Tell him I said he needs to hear Part 1, and that his hands are safe.”

~~~

“We need to get to the studio,” Mike said, after listening to Part 1. “Now.”

“Now?” both you and Ashton asked him, bewildered.

“Yes! I can sing this so much better now that I know the emotion behind it! We can’t put the original on our album now!”

“You’re gonna put this on the album?” you squeaked.

“Giving you writing credit, too,” Mike winked at you.

“What? No… No!”

Ashton laughed and twirled you in a circle. “Yes, and yes! The world deserves to know your brilliance, you phenomenal woman!”

“Well, go record the new version, then,” you laughed with him.

“Hey, Y/N, you got any other great hits like that one that we can have Ash write responses to?”

“You’ll never know,” you winked. In truth, you had enough for a whole album yourself. “Oh, and Mikey?”

“Yeah?”

“Nobody finds out that you listened to Part 1.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

“I mean it, Mikey. I’d hate for Ash to break those talented fingers of yours.”

His hands went behind his back. “Trust me, I know all about wanting to keep your private life private.”

~~~

“We already recorded it!” Calum groaned. It was 2 am by the time all four men were back in the studio.

“But, I had an epiphany! I know I can sing this song better. I know it!” Mike said.

“Ash,” both Calum and Luke looked at Ashton, begging the oldest for help.

Ashton shrugged. “He’s the one singing it. If he wants to tweak it, that’s his choice.”

“I hate this band…” Luke pouted, sitting down at the piano.

~~~

“So, this song, it’s actually Part 2? Which begs the question, where’s Part 1?” Zach Sang asked.

Ashton laughed. He had been dodging this question in every interview on this press tour. But, you had finally given the okay to reveal the truth, even share Part 1 because you wanted the world to know the whole story and Zach Sang’s interview was the best place as he was an interviewer who actually gave a shit about their art, rather than their personal lives. “It’s a bit of a story,” Ashton continued to chuckle.

“Well, by all means, let’s hear it.”

“So, Y/N and I… we met a few years ago at a music festival. And uh… well, it’s hard not to like that woman, lemme tell ya. She’s phenomenal. Anyway, she was only seventeen back then. So we were just friends, for a long time. And, uh… eventually, when she got older, I asked her to move in with me, as friends. Anyway, jumping ahead, we got in a fight the morning I wrote this song. I’ve never hid my affection for her, and I was getting more than a little mad she wasn’t willing to reciprocate, especially since our age gap isn’t as big a deal now that she’s twenty. And I left for the studio, midfight basically. And we were struggling with this album. I mean, we’ve been working hard, but it was missing something, and we couldn’t figure it out. But then, Y/N sent me Part 1. Being a musician is something she’s always kept very private, so I quickly hid out in another room to listen to it because, my God, she was finally trusting me to listen to her stuff. And like not even 2 hours later we had my response.”

“But Mikey sings it?”

“Yeah. I did it that way on purpose. I want to be able to play this song when we tour, so I can’t really be the one singing it.”

“So, how did you record Part 2 then, if no one’s heard Part 1 besides you?”

“Oh, we re-recorded it after I heard it,” Mike piped up.

Calum, Luke, and Zach all looked at Mike with wide eyes. “You heard it?”

Mike nodded. “Yeah, it’s fantastic. Can we play it?”

“You have Part 1?” Zach asked, excitedly.

Ashton nodded and pulled out his phone. “Y/N wanted me to share it here on your show. Both parts, one right after the other, the full story. It’s long.”

Zach just smiled. “Alright, let’s hear this love story, folks. You, Me, Us Parts 1 and 2, coming at you live from the Zach Sang Show.”

~~~

“Here,” you said, placing a cassette player in Ashton’s hands.

“I don’t have any tapes, gorgeous,” he smiled at you.

“Yes you do,” you told him, tapping the cassette player. “Don’t lose it.”

“Are these your songs?”

You nodded. “There’s only 4, but they’re long. Mikey helped me.”

He pulled you in for a tight hug, covering the top of your head in kisses. “I’ll protect it with my life,” he promised.

~~~

“Baby!” Ashton voice said, laced with panic.

“What?!”

“I need a new tape!”

“What?!”

“The tape! I played it too much! The songs! Baby!” His voice was high and there were tears in his eyes. “I said I would protect it, and it broke! Please! My favorite song!” he continued to panic.

“Hey, relax,” you soothed. “It’s okay.”

“No it’s not! I said I would protect it, and it broke! Stupid antique junk!”

“Ash! Stop. Look,” you said, flashing a new tape. “I’ll overnight it, okay? Just breathe.”

“I’m so sorry…”

“It’s okay,” you smiled at him. The fact that he had played it so much he wore out the tape meant the world to you. You would make him a billion copies if he played each one to their breaking point. “One mixtape straight out of ‘94 heading your way.”

“You were born in ‘99…”

“And the man behind the music is a product of ‘94,” you smiled. “It’ll be there soon, Ash. Don’t worry. I love you.”

“I love you too. And I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s just a tape.”

“No it’s not. It’s our tape.”

~~~

Before he left for his World Way Joy tour, you gave him another tape. “Don’t break this one,” you teased.

“Not funny!”

“It’s a little funny,” you laughed.

“It’s not funny… I was very careful with it…”

“It’s true,” Mike piped up, overhearing the conversation.

“He doesn’t go anywhere without that damn hunk of junk,” Calum scoffed.

“It’s vintage!” Ashton hissed playfully.

“It’s obsolete, mate. Just put those suckers on Spotify, Y/N.”

“Never!” you smiled, hugging Calum goodbye. “Take care of him for me.”

“Always, Y/N, always.”

~~~

When Ashton finally came home, after both the tour and spending the holidays with his family, he was restless.

You rolled over in bed to find it empty. You squinted as you checked the time: 2:13 am. Where the hell is he? you wondered as you got out of bed to search for him.

You found him in the backyard, guitar strumming softly, a cup of coffee on the patio table. “Ash,” you whispered, pulling the blanket tightly around you. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“Late?”

“Very… is that coffee?”

“It’s decaf…”

“Come to bed.”

“Can’t sleep.”

“Can’t sleep? Ash, you need to try. Rest your body at least.” Now you were worried. You had noticed the dark circles under his eyes when he came home earlier that afternoon, but you had expected the man to sleep soundly for several hours, not be wide awake at 2 in the morning. This, you decided, was very bad.

“Not. Tired,” came the response and a pluck of guitar strings.

You sighed, but decided not to say anything. Ashton was a grown man and he wouldn’t appreciate you babying him. Instead, you had an idea.

You worked relentlessly on the project, using the research of you thesis project to help you, keeping late hours yourself. Ashton was worried you were pushing yourself too hard, but he also kept his mouth shut. You weren’t giving him shit about his insomnia, so he wasn’t going to give you shit for yours. Instead, he got interested in what his girlfriend was up to.

“Whatcha doing?” he asked, wrapping his arms around you.

Your head snapped up. “Thesis,” you said, pulling out of his arms and out of your seat in front of the keyboard.

“Your thesis has you making music?”

An idea formed in your head. “Yeah,” you said, leading him to the bedroom. “It’s crazy what music does to brain waves, Ash.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s like a drug, almost,” you explained, pulling him into bed.

“Mmm, fascinating,” he smiled at you. He loved when your smart side showed in full force even though he had no idea what you were talking about half the time.

“Yeah,” you smiled back, running your hands through his hair. “So, we already know how music makes people feel. There’s this study where they tested the idea of music being therapeutic. What they did is they did a series of surgeries, already planned surgeries, mind you. But they did these surgeries. Some with music playing, some without. And what they noticed was incredible!” you were whispering now as his eyelids drooped lower and lower.

“Mmm, incredible, yeah,” he mumbled.

“Yeah, it’s incredible. And what they realized was that the patients who listened to the music, even though they had no memory of it, they had faster recovery times. And like they mapped how their brains reacted to different kinds of music. And like, that’s what I’m doing! Like what type of music causes our brain waves to do this instead of that type of stuff. God, Ash, it’s so cool!”

“Mmm, very,” he mumbled again, then let out a small snore.

You grinned to yourself. Finally, Ashton was asleep. Now, you just had to find a way to make him sleep like this without boring him to death with research and science. You were almost there. You just needed to run the tests to make sure you could record the perfect lullaby.

~~~

“Here!” you grinned, handing him the tape before he left for his No Shame tour.

“How many tapes do you have, gorgeous?” he laughed, taking the tape anyway.

“Last one, I promise,” you told him. “Just listen to it when you go to bed, okay?”

“Okay,” he told you.

Later that night, he crawled into his bunk on the tour bus, put in the tape, secured his headphones, and hit play. In 5 minutes, he was in the deepest sleep of his life.

“Baby, I don’t know what type of superpowers you put in that last tape, but I swear I haven’t been able to finish it.”

You grinned. Your research had paid off. You had created the perfect lullaby. “Good!”

“No, not good. I want to finish it. I want to hear your music. But every time I’m out like a light. I dunno what it is.”

“It’s the music,” you continued to grin. “Brain waves. Science!” You were laughing now and wiggling your fingers like magic. “The power of sleep compels you!”

He laughed with you. “Thanks baby. I don’t think I’ve ever slept better.”

~~~

“So my last thing… and this counts as 1 thing!” Ashton laughed, pulling out the tape player and 3 cassettes. “This… wow, I never go anywhere without this. Tour, grocery shopping, anywhere.”

“Tell us what it is, Ash,” Calum said from behind the camera.

“Right! It’s uh… it’s a tape player that plays my 3 favorite tapes.”

“What are the tapes?” Mike boomed from behind the camera.

“I’m getting there!” Ashton laughed. “So, my phenomenal girlfriend made me these tapes. And I carry them with me everywhere.”

“He even showers with them,” Luke said, stepping into view.

“I do not!” Ashton protested.

“What’s on the tapes?” Mike asked.

“It’s porn, Mikey,” Calum said.

“Shut up, and let me talk, or get off the set,” Ashton laughed.

“Yeah, let him finish!” Luke said.

“LeT mE fInIsH!” Calum and Mike taunted.

“Anyway…” Ashton said, waving the tapes. “Not porn. My phenomenal girlfriend decided to share her music with me. And because she’s very private about her music, I promised to protect them.”

“It’s cuz it’s porn!” Calum whisper-yelled.

“Is not!”

“Oh, just tell ‘em how you broke one already,” Mike said.

“Right! So… uh, one of these, this one,” he said, waving the tape for emphasis, “is not the original. I played it so much in those first few days I actually broke it. And I called her in a panic to ask for a new one because my favorite song was on it. Still is my favorite. You might’ve heard it. It’s Part 1 of Me, You, Us. Anyway, now I only play the tapes once a day. And, uh, yeah, those are my 5 must haves on tour. I’m Ashton Irwin, thanks.”

“Wait, is that why you’ve been wearing jumpsuits in this era? All those pockets to hold them tapes?” Luke asked, coming back on screen.

“As a matter of fact, it is. If the tapes aren’t physically on me, they’re in a bag by my feet. Always in my line of sight and close to my heart. Y/N, I love you gorgeous. Your tapes are safe with me, baby. I promise. And again, I’m Ashton Irwin, and this has been 5 Things with 5SOS. See you all at the Tokyo Olympics where I’ll be cheering my phenomenal girlfriend as she makes her second debut as shortstop for America’s softball team. Did I mention she was phenomenal? And my girlfriend? Cuz she is!”

[thatmultifandomhoe]

Strawberry Cream and BBQ - 19

Pairing: Hybrid Hoseok and Human Reader

Overview: Your best friend knows she can count on you for anything, so when she asks you to watch her hybrid while she’s gone for a study abroad trip for four months, you can’t say no. But when these four months are over, things have changed in a way no one expected.

Word Count: 2,283

Genre: Hybrid AU, Fluff, Future smut, Angst, Best friends to Lovers

Warning: Fluff, a little itty bitty angst.

Master List

Sneak Peak - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - Part 16 - Part 17 - Part 18 - Part 19 - Part 20 - Part 21 - Part 22 - Part 23 - Part 24 - Part 25 (Final) - Move in Day: A SC&BBQ Drabble

©thatmultifandomhoe Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without permission.

You held the laundry basket against your hip, arm stretched out to the side as you walked down the hall to the last room at the end of the hallway. An earbud was in one ear, listening to your favorite music, occasionally nodding your head to the beat of it.

Hoseok’s heat had ended the other night, making it the first time in three days that you got to sleep longer than a couple hours. True to his word, he hadn’t been able to control himself after marking you, showing you another side of him that you never expected but you greatly enjoyed.

Entering the room, you hurried the best you could to the only empty washing machine, setting your basket on top of it to claim it, wincing while doing so. The only down side to rough sex meant that you were sore, and having a mate who enjoyed seeing you covered in hickeys, also meant that underneath your clothes your skin was dotted with various purple love bites.

Inside the laundry room, there were six washers and six dryers, five of which were already taken. The complex provided the machines, but the tenants had to use their own detergents and softeners, which you didn’t see as a hassle as some of the older tenants did. Against the left wall was a six-foot table in length, and a handful of black folding chairs incase anyone wanted to stick around. But there wasn’t anyone else in the room despite the machines running, so you didn’t feel guilty about setting your basket on the table.

You hummed along to the song as you got the water running, turning to separate the clothes. For the last three days, Hoseok and you were stuck to staying in the bedroom for the sake of keeping the rest of the furniture safe from your sexcapades. He already lived up to his promise of needing a new headboard, and you weren’t even positive if the sheets were salvageable at this point. With a shudder, your nose scrunched up at the thought.

As the washer filled with water, you tossed in a load of dark clothes, a mix of yours and Hoseok’s clothing. This was perhaps, the least exciting thing you’ve done since he came to stay with you. But it was the like nothing had changed. You were still you, the same woman who hated throwing all her laundry in the wash at once, unlike your neighbors who would rather toss it all in instead of separating them.

Since the task was so simple, your mind wandered to Sue and your friendship. You weren’t ready to say that it was dying, but you knew that it was nothing like it used to be. It felt like you were seeing her in a new light, one that painted her in a new light. During the last three days, your phone and Hoseok’s had taken turns with receiving messages from Sue, sometimes only minutes apart as she alternated between texting you. For obvious reasons you didn’t respond back. The only time you even touched your phone was when Hoseok went to go get snacks and food from the kitchen for you during the breaks. He didn’t let you leave the bed unless it was for the bathroom, but that was because he saw how sore and exhausted your body was.

You couldn’t help but shake your head, remembering how he had whined when you tried to go to the kitchen the first time after the first couple rounds. He knew exactly what was going to happen but you were being stubborn. It was a good thing he was right behind you when you stood, legs giving out at your attempt to stand. You had to reassure him more than once that you weren’t in pain.

Speaking of pain. Reaching up, you gently touched the bite mark on your neck with your fingers, only flinching a little. It was still sore and needed time to heal. How long it would take, you weren’t entirely sure. A sense of pride rushed through your body knowing that his mark was permanently there. You spent years, trying and failing to find the perfect man, only to realize he had been there all along. Tossing in the last shirt, you closed the lid. Maybe watching all those romance movies was starting to reflect on your life.

“Oops, I didn’t know someone was in here.”

Turning to look over your shoulder, you watched as two women entered the laundry room. They appeared to be a mother and daughter, sharing the same brown hair and thin nose. You knew the mother; her name was Mrs. Whitney and she lived three doors down from you.

“How are you doing hun?” Mrs. Whitney asked, adjusting her teal framed glasses as she went to the dryer against the right wall.

“Pretty good.” You answered, smiling when she looked your way. “Just trying too find the motivation to get a majority of the laundry done today.”

Mrs. Whitney chuckled as she put a basket on the floor. “Mind sending me some of that motivation when you find it?” With a glance over her shoulder, she gestured to her daughter who was sitting on one of the chairs, her eyes glued to her phone. “Better yet, send it to my daughter instead. Somebody doesn’t know when to set her phone down and help her mother.”

You pressed your lips together to keep from laughing. Instead you grabbed your own basket and tapped your fingers against the handle to give your hands something to do.

The daughter, realizing that she was being spoken about, lifted her head and forced a smile when your eyes met. She appeared to be around your age, young enough to have pink highlights in her hair and get away with it, but you didn’t immediately recognize her.

“You asked for company,” she told her mother.

“Yes, I did,” Mrs. Whitney agreed. “But I was hoping that you’d put the phone away too, Beth.”

Beth rolled her eyes, but she did put her phone in her pocket. “What would you like me to talk about?”

Leaning against the washer, you felt a pang of sympathy for Mrs. Whitney. You weren’t extremely close to her, but you were friendly enough to stop and have a conversation with each other if you weren’t press for time.

“Well, I think we have a new tenant living on this floor. I’m not sure what his name is, but I’ve seen him coming in and out. He’s a hybrid.”

You tilted your head to the side, biting back the smile that threatened to take over your face. No matter where you went, Hoseok managed to be the main story to any conversation as of late. “Actually,” you softly interjected. “That’s Hoseok. He’s staying with me while Sue, our friend and his owner, is away on the study abroad program offered at the college.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed that Beth suddenly straightened up, her gaze focused on you.

Mrs. Wright on the other hand, just smiled. “Studying abroad? Well that’s exciting. Wait, Beth, don’t you have a friend doing that too?”

“Yeah, I’m friends with Sue too,” Beth explained. “She’s over in Hong Kong.”

If a dark cloud had the ability to form inside a building, you were willing to bet there was one hovering over your shoulder. You couldn’t recall ever seeing Beth, but the longer you look, she did seem familiar. She probably was friends with Sue. Even though it was a small town, the college attracted students from all over the state. If anything, you might have seen her in passing on campus.

There was just something about her that made your pulse race. Not like how it did when Hoseok was near. No. She gave you the same feeling you experienced every time you had to lock up the bookstore at night and had to walk around back to the parking lot where you kept your car. You felt nervous around her.

“Well isn’t this a small world,” Mrs. Whitney spoke, capturing your attention again.

You gave her a shaky smile, quickly nodding. “Yeah, small world.”

Shutting the dryer, she moved her full basket on to the table, pushing it against the wall to have space to fold her clothes. From what you could tell it was mostly whites and a dozen or two socks.

“That Hoseok, he seems around your age,” Mrs. Whitney sent you a knowing grin, obviously missing the mark that was on your neck. You knew that she meant well – things tended to go over her head sometimes – but she truly was a sweet woman. For the first few months after you moved into your apartment, she was the only one to say hi to you and offer help when you needed it. “Is he seeing anyone?”

Beth snorted, drawing her mother’s attention. “Might want to clean your glasses mom and take a look at her neck. He’s seeing someone alright.” As if to prove her point, she pointed at your neck, her eyes narrowing when you reached up to cover the mark with your hand. But Mrs. Whitney saw it before you could hide it.

“Oh, I didn’t realize…” Mrs. Whitney’s hands grip tightened on the washcloth she had been folding. “I’m sorry hun, I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“It’s alright, Mrs. Whitney.”

The room went silent for a moment, the atmosphere so tense that it felt like it would suffocate you at any moment. Beth sat back in her seat, a smug grin on her face as she pulled out her phone.

“You know, he seems like a really nice man,” Mrs. Whitney softly said. “And as long as he makes you happy, then I don’t see any reason to dislike him.”

Looking up, you saw the gentle smile on her face that was meant just for you. “Thank you, Mrs. Whitney. Hoseok’s about the sweetest man you could ever meet.” Her smile widened as she began to fold her clothes once more, and you took that as your cue to leave.

You rubbed the mark once more before uncovering it, feeling Beth’s stare on it as you wished Mrs. Whitney a good day, hurrying out of the laundry room as fast as possible without drawing attention. Taking a shaky breath, your body moved on autopilot, the steps to your apartment already ingrained in your mind as your thoughts went elsewhere.

This wasn’t what you were expecting when you went to go do laundry. Obviously, there were still people who didn’t see hybrids as equals, but you didn’t think you’d run into someone who thought that way so soon. Especially someone who was a friend of Sue.

It didn’t change your mind or your feelings for Hoseok, you didn’t want to bother with people like Beth. What hurt was that she already had her mind made up about hybrids, and despite how sweet and understanding her mother is, she didn’t seem to be changing her mind anytime soon.

As you walked back into your apartment, you were still thinking about Beth when Hoseok walked out of your now shared bedroom, dropping a black garbage bag on the floor.

“Bad news,” he announced, scratching the base of his dog ears.

Raising an eyebrow, the corner of your lips curved into a smile as you guessed what was in the bag. “We need new bed sheets?”

“I’m thinking we should buy a bunch, that way if they get ruined, we don’t have to constantly go out to the store.” He had the decency to look partially guilty, but it was still amusing. Walking around the bag, he went to take the basket from you when he frowned, his tail stilling as he took in the not so happy look on your face. “Strawberry, is everything okay? If it’s about the sheets, I’m sorry. Ripping them was the last thing I planned to do.”

You shook your head though, effectively cutting him off. “No, it’s not that. Do you recall someone named Beth Whitney?” You asked, setting the basket on the floor. “Pink highlights, apparently a friend of Sue?”

He frowned as he thought about it, moving closer so he could slip his hand into yours. “The name sounds familiar, but I can’t picture her. I might’ve met her at some point, Sue and Colin always had people over. Why do you ask?”

“I ran into her and her mom in the laundry room,” you answered, stepping into his embrace. His arms went around your back as he looked down at you. “She was very interested in the fact that you were staying with me. Beth, that is.”

Hoseok tilted his head. “Well, that’s weird.” But he kissed your forehead and your body relaxed at his touch. These three days had been amazing, and to see you suddenly so sad didn’t sit well with him. “I wouldn’t worry about it though. She’s probably someone who’s nosey. Sue always had a few friends who couldn’t mind their own business. We on the other hand, have to go shopping for a new headboard and sheets.”

That made you chuckle, and as you went to retrieve your purse, you couldn’t shake the strange feeling. It was like a cold breeze that never died down. You tried not to think about it, and when the two of you left, Hoseok wrapped an arm around your shoulders as you headed for the elevator. His touch warmed you up, but you could feel a pair of eyes on you that didn’t go away until the elevator doors closed shut.

[douchebagbrainwaves]

THEY MADE SEARCH WORK, THEN WORRIED ABOUT HOW TO DESIGN TYPE SYSTEMS MAY SHUDDER AT THIS

There are many advantages of launching quickly, but the most successful of that group by an order of magnitude. Common Lisp. And in the early 1970s, before C, MIT's dialect of Lisp, called MacLisp, was one of those rare, historic shifts in the way of Perl's popularity. A poor student who could afford only rice was eating his rice while enjoying the delicious cooking smells coming from the food shop owner, accusing us all of stealing their smells.1 Most hackers who start startups wish they could do searches online. There are other messages too, of course. So by caring more about money and less about power than Silicon Valley, the message the Valley sends is: you should live better. The biggest mistake you can make is not to worry about this.

Put yourself in the position of someone selecting players for a national team. At least one hacker will have to do is keep telling your story, and eventually people will start to get the gold out of it. I think is a red herring.2 And the core problem in a startup is too much for one person to bear. I think I have finally solved the problem people cared most about, which was dictated largely by the hardware available in the late twentieth century it seems to matter more than that. Visually, Paris has the best eavesdropping I know. Early Lisps let you get your hands on everything. Conditionals. Let me repeat that recipe: finding the problem intolerable and feeling it must be, because I wasn't looking for it. If you're designing a chair, that's what you're designing for, and there's no way around it. It's too late now to be Stripe, but there's nothing to distract you. If the founders know what they're doing.

While young founders are at a disadvantage. It won't stop patent trolls, for example, or find fields that are uninitialized. There's a lot of time doing it. So the solution may be to shrink and then figure out a way to answer this question, you have to write it anyway, so in the worst case, it will probably fail. Historically, Lisp has been good at letting hackers have their way with it. Burning through too much money is not as great as it's sometimes thought to be. When I was in college I used to write papers for my friends. The language offers abstractions only as a way of telling you what to do; they'll start to engage in office politics. How grim it must have powerful libraries for server-based applications. It's a lot more interested.

And yet a surprising number of founders seem willing to assume that someone, they're not going to let you just put the money in the bank and keep operating as two guys living on ramen.3 If you start a startup by just writing code. One complaint people have had with Lisp is that it's not true.4 Scheme has no libraries, and Lisp syntax is scary. You got me.5 The good news is, plenty of successful startups, you find they'd often make good startups. If i is the average outcome of the whole company was before.6

So by caring more about money and less about power than Silicon Valley, New York, and Boston.7 New York.8 The usual way to avoid being taken by surprise by something is to be consciously aware of it, and show why most but not all should be ignored. Statues to be cast in bronze were modelled in wax. Oxford and Cambridge England feel like Ithaca or Hanover: the message is there, but not the best.9 Python is a more elegant alternative to Perl, but what we mean by it is changing. What do you do about it? Make something people want.

In a way, it's harder to see problems than their solutions. Programs composed of expressions. Perl: Shell scripts/awk/sed are not enough like programming languages. For some kinds of work better sources of habits of mind you invoke on some field don't have to remember anything, and you're going to have competitors, so you have to work at something that pays the bills. I think a lot of people think they're too young. And in the early versions of the list, because nearly all the founders I know are programmers. Historically, Lisp has been good at letting hackers have their way. In fact, I'd guess the most successful founder we've funded so far, Sam Altman, was 19 at the time and not too resistant to learning new things. Professors in New York the number of people with the necessary skills.

I think the worst danger of committees is that they probably will, one day. But of course it's not a problem if you don't need as many hackers, and b look at the world of programming languages: library functions. So there you have it: languages are not equivalent, and I understand the messages of New York to California residents in the Forbes 400 has decreased from 1. Life in Berkeley is very civilized. Is there some way to beat this limitation? The failed startups you hear most about are the spectactular flameouts. They think of the profiler as an add-on, at best. There need to be moderately smart to succeed as a startup founder. That sounds like a recipe for chaos, think about a soccer team. Whereas if I encourage people to start startups. What I mean is that Lisp was neater than Turing machines was to write a paper for a class I wasn't taking. Good ideas and valuable ideas are not million dollar ideas, and the de facto censorship imposed by publishers is a useful if imperfect filter.

But Lisp Machines along with parallel computers were steamrollered by the increasing power of women, the increasing influence of actors as models, and the best research is also good design, and my habit of always asking would x be useful in a programming language.10 If you're smart enough to start a company by just writing code. You can sense it when you walk around one. So our rule is just to do whatever's best for your users. To the extent there's a secret to success, it's not so pretty. Startups are often described as emotional roller-coasters. Most startups fail because they don't like the uncertainty. Popularity is always self-perpetuating, but it's not going to say you should seek out ideas that would be an extraordinary bargain. An investor wants to buy half your company for anything, whether it's money or an employee or a deal with another company, the rather surprising conclusion is that the people who know this best are the very ones trying to get you to stick to the old model. Instead you should draw a few quick lines in roughly the right place, and then you realize the window has closed. A popular programming language should be both clean and dirty: cleanly designed, with a command-line interface, is more available than one that you have to select 20 players. Whereas if I encourage people to start startups who shouldn't, I make my own life worse.

Notes

Related: Reprinted in Gray, Donald J.

There are aspects of the main reason kids lie to adults. The best kind of secret about the difference.

This is an interesting trap founders fall into two categories: those where the second clause could include any possible startup, and b the valuation at the end of World War II had disappeared. And when they buy some startups and not least, as it were a first-time founder again he'd leave ideas that are or feel weak. Google Google is not the only reason you're even considering the other. 001 negative effect on college admissions process.

Russell also wrote the editor written in Lisp, you don't get any money till all the free OSes first-rate programmers.

It's a case of heirs, professors, politicians, and their wives. Then you'll either get the money was to reboot them, and jobs encourage cooperation, not where to see it in the twentieth century, art as brand split apart from art as brand split apart from art as stuff.

I have to mean the hypothetical people who are younger or more ambitious the utility function is flatter. This is the odds are slightly more interesting than later ones, and would probably also intelligence. And I've never heard of many startups from Philadelphia. By your mid-sentence, but to do it to profitability, you don't want to start some vaguely benevolent business.

Since they don't make wealth a zero-sum game.

I'm not against editing.

But you can charge for. Apparently someone believed you have for one user.

Managers are presumably wondering, how little autonomy one would have become direct marketers.

Thanks to Trevor Blackwell, Jessica Livingston, Robert Morris essay, Patrick Collison, Mike Moritz, Geoff Ralston, and Robert Morris for the lulz.

[sufferthesea]

Tagged by my sweet @pyroinquisitor​ ! Thank you!!

THE LAST

1. drink: Water! I have 7 water bottles in my room and I try to drink at least 4 of them a day.  2. phone call: AHAHAHA LIKE I TALK ON THE PHONE. (Actually, today I answered a call from my mom and almost ripped my thumb nail off on the chair trying to get to the phone.)  3. text message: I haven’t bought minutes for my phone so my last text was in June, saying “Your service ends soon”.  4. song you listened to: What Kind of Man by Florence + the Machine 5. time you cried: Teary-eyed or tears running down my face? Teary-eyed, today. Actual crying, ??? not sure!  6. dated someone twice: Nope! I’ve never dated!  7. kissed someone and regretted it: Theatre kisses don’t count (and neither do kisses on the cheek??), so I’ve never kissed anyone.  8. been cheated on: No 9. lost someone special: Yes. Many people.  10. been depressed: Yes. Gotta love that Frosty Fresh Depression  11. gotten drunk and thrown up: Never been drunk!  

3 FAVOURITE COLOURS

12. Purple 13. Yellow 14. Soft pastels and earth tones 

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU

15. made new friends: Yes!! 💖 16. fallen out of love: Yes! Good riddance! 👋 17. laughed until you cried: Yes!  18. found out someone was talking about you: Yep! But the people they were talking to stopped being friends with them and now want to be my friend 😂 19. met someone who changed you: Hmmm, I think so?  20. found out who your friends are: Yes!  21. kissed someone on your facebook list: If stage kisses and kisses on the cheek count, then yes! That’d be like 20 ppl 😂😂 

GENERAL

22. how many of your facebook friends do you know in real life: Almost all of them! Most are family, high school friends, and college friends.  23. do you have any pets: Yes, a dog! He’s old and grumpy but I love him. I used to have a bearded dragon named Sylar and I miss him dearly.  24. do you want to change your name: Sometimes, but I really like it because it’s unique even tho it’s unisex and also a surname... and no one can say it correctly.... and I never see it anywhere....  25. what did you do for your last birthday: I can’t remember? My bday is close to my sister’s and dad’s, and it was close to my graduation so I think we had a combo birthday-grad dinner.  26. what time did you wake up: Alarms at 7.30am and 8am, and I woke up at 9am (-:  27. what were you doing at midnight last night: Showering 28. name something you can’t wait for: To get another first draft of my original story done. Plot revision is a motivation killer.  29. when was the last time you saw your mom: Like 30min ago when I went to the kitchen.   30 has disappeared. RIP.  31. what are you listening to right now: Pity Party by MelMar.  32. have you ever talked to a person named Tom: I knew a kid whose middle name was Tom, so yes!  33. something that is getting on your nerves: My own procrastination.  34. most visited website: YouTube, Tumblr, FB, gmail  35. hair colour: My hair is kinda weird bc of my parents. But it’s really dark brown (from my mom) with gold and red (from my mom’s mom and dad)?? And then I have chunks of blonde from when I bleached it and had purple, pink, and blue highlights.  36. long or short hair: It’s medium but I want to grow it back to how it used to be. I used to have the longest hair at my school (to my waist)! I miss it a lot.  37. do you have a crush on someone: NO!! No one real anyway. Fictional characters? Always. Choose a show or game and I probably have a crush on one of the characters.  38. what do you like about yourself: I like what other people have said about me: I’m the most compassionate person they’ve met; I have good energy; I’m easy to talk to. I also like that I am able to write and draw fairly well. (-:  39. want any piercings: Yes but I haven’t had a good experience with my past piercings. There’s a piercing/tattoo artist I know and trust but he’s sooooo far away ))-:  40. blood type: idek  41. nickname: Immy, Bee, C.B., Hoe, literally sooo many but most are family-only nicknames. Some old nicknames are Sensei and Onee-chan/Ane-chan. I also called myself Obaa because I felt old talking to ppl who just entered the fandom haha. But never I was never called Senpai ))):  42. relationship status: Single Pringle! 43. zodiac: Taurus / Boar  44. pronouns: she/her  45. favourite tv show: idk probably anything with an Asian cast bc I like seeing my people onscreen  46. tattoos: Not yet, but if I ever get one I have a rough design done.  47. right or left handed: Right but I’m teaching myself to become ambidextrous  48. surgery: None that I remember 49. piercing: Ears 50. sport: No! I used to do cross country in elementary school? 51. vacation: Love love love any Lewis & Clark vacations. Lewis is my husband and I would die for him.  52. pair of trainers: My only tennis shoes are faded and worn-out 3 y.o. purple and gray/silver ones I bought in my WTNV phase. I don’t like shoes so I haven’t bought new ones even tho I should. 

MORE GENERAL

53. eating: Nothing 54. drinking: Water 55. im about to: Listen to music and finish Chap 3 of HBAM and maybe do some Kakashi Week prompts 56. waiting for: Myself to stop being lazy  57. want: To lay under my falsa blanket in bed and get some work done 58. get married: Yes!! I’m so excited to get married (-: I know it’s not all sunshine and rainbows, but it’s so awesome to think that I’ll get to spend the rest of my life loving on someone and being comfortably dorky around them  59. career: I want to be an author! Ppl tell me I should go into writing (screenplays or articles), drawing (book illustrations) or counseling, and my older sis wants me to be a teacher with her.  60. hugs or kisses: I’m selective about who gives me affection tbh, and I’m more of a hand-holder so idk 61. lips or eyes: Lips. I have a hard time keeping eye contact and paying attention to what’s being said. I feel like they’re looking into my soul.  62. shorter or taller: I luv being taller than people but I want my hubby to be taller than me!  63. older or younger: I’m both middle and oldest child in my mixed family. I want to marry someone older, but I like being the oldest in my friend group.  64. nice arms or nice stomach: Nice arms make me weak  66. troublemaker or hesitant: I used to be a troublemaker, but now I’m hesitant 

HAVE YOU EVER

67. kissed a stranger: No, but I proposed to one during a scavenger hunt (he said yes).  68. drank hard liquor: How hard is “hard”?  69. lost glasses/contact lenses: Yes. I never wear my glasses so I misplace them a lot.  70. turned someone down: Had to turn someone down for other ppl because they wouldn’t take no for an answer  71. sex on the first date:  No! I’ve never been on a date either ahahah 72. broken someone’s heart: Possibly  73. had your heart broken: Yes! Multiple times! But it heals stronger every time!  74. been arrested: No 75. cried when someone died: Yes 76. fallen for a friend: Yeah /: 

DO YOU BELIEVE IN

77. yourself: Yes but then I feel full of myself  78. miracles: Yes ?? But not like, cosmic miracles? I believe in God, ya know? so His miracles ??  79. love at first sight: Yes! (reminds me of the county bailiff and grilled cheese food car guys I fell in love with when I moved down here lolol)  80. santa claus: SANTA IS THE BEST (but, practically, no)  81. kiss on the first date: On the cheek or back of the hand, sure?? I’ve never been on a date????  82. angels: Yes! 

OTHER

83. current best friends’ names: Goldie 84. eye colour: Hazel (mostly green)  85. favourite movie: Jurassic Park, Across the Universe, The New World, Howl’s Moving Castle, Spirited Away 

Hopefully I filled them all in and didn’t leave Pyro’s answers hahaha

Tagging @thefoxthief @purple-possibilities @thetoxicstrawberry @ninja-crows @iyo-arts But only if you want to do it! 

[selina569]

1) What images do you have set for your desktop/cell phone wallpapers?

Phone: Ignis Scientia Desktop: Natalie Dormer

2) Have you ever had a crush on a teacher?

Yeah I have lol

3) What was your last text message?

“Ok”

4) What do you see yourself doing in 10 years?

I would like to have a career in publishing, and/or doing something with my writing, be married, and have at least one kid :)

5) If you could be anywhere else right now, where would you be?

Sleeping. I’m tired af

6) What was your coolest Halloween costume?

Poison Ivy <3

7) What was your favorite 90s show?

Charmed

8) Who was your last kiss?

@jaesylvr

9) Have you ever been stood up?

Yes multiple times in high school

10) Favorite ice cream flavor?

World Class Chocolate: dark and white chocolate mousse flavored icecream

11) Have you been to Las Vegas?

No, but I want to.  

12) Your favorite pair of shoes? 

Silver, sparkly, peep-toe, stilettos

13) Honestly, have you ever cheated on your significant other?

Yes.  

14) What is your favorite fruit?

Grapes

15) Have you talked to anyone on tumblr that you could see yourself dating/having sex with? If possible?

@jaesylvr​

16) Are you into hookups? Short or long term relationships?

Doesn’t really matter i’m up for whatever.

17) Do you smoke? If so, what?

Yes: hookah and weed

18) What do you do to get over your anger?

Shut myself away and watch tv or listen to music

19) Do you believe in God?

I believe in the kind of God situation that Supernatural has.

20) Does the person you're in love with know it?

I hope so ;)

21) Favorite position?

Sexually? Me on bottom because I’m lazy lol  

22) What's your horoscope sign?

Gemini

23) Your fears?

Clowns, bugs, cars, drinking fountains, throwing up, someone I love dying, failure

24) How many pets do you have? What kind? 

5 Cats: Mistique, Finn, Kiki, Thor, and Loki

25) What never fails to turn you on?

Neck kisses, when the other takes control/initiates, hugs from behind :3

26) Your idea of a perfect first date?

I don’t really have one I’m down for whatever just don’t be boring.

27) What is something most people don't know about you?

I was sexually harrassed and assaulted

28) What makes you feel the happiest?

My cats, music, spring days, book smell, TV, those rare moments i have where I can just do nothing.

29) What store do you shop at most often?

Either Charlotte Rousse, Victoria’s Secret, or Hot Topic

30) How do you feel about oral? Giving and/or receiving? 

I like giving and receiving, but I have jaw problems so after giving I am in extreme pain :(

31) Do you believe in karma?

Hell Yeah

32) Are you single?

Nope

33) Do you think flowers or candy are a better way to apologize?

Use your words! Material objects do not substitute an apology......but chocolate.

34) Are you a good swimmer?

Yes

35) Coffee or Tea?

COFFEE!!!

36) Online shopping or shopping in person?

Shopping in person because girls clothes are fucking weird!

37) Would you rather be older or younger than your current age?

Younger, I miss being a carefree child.

38) Cats or Dogs?

Both!

39) Are you a competitive person?

It depends on the situation.

40) Do you believe in aliens?

Duh.

41) Do you like dancing?

Yes!

42) What kind of music to you listen to?

I listen to everything there isn’t a lot I don’t like

43) What is your favorite cartoon character?

Flynn Rider <3

44) Where are you from?

Shaumburg, Illinois, U.S

45) Eat at home or eat out?

Getting food to pickup and bring back home lol

46) How much more social are you when you're drunk?

Very! My alcohol of choice is tequila and I become a sloot

47) What was the last thing you bought for yourself? 

Chips at my school’s vending machine

48) Why do you think your followers follow you?

I have no idea lol but if anything probably my variety of content. It’s a little of everything.

49) How many hours do you sleep at night?

Average: 5-6

50) What worries you most about the future?

Finances

51) If you had a friend that spoke to you the same way you speak to yourself, how long would you be friends?

Probably, I try to reassure myself a lot because of my constant doubt

52) Are you happy with yourself?

Overall yes, but there is always room for improvement

53) What do you wish you didn't know?

I wish I didn’t know my fear of driving and cars because it is so crippling to my daily life.

54) What big lesson could people learn from your life?

STOP OBSESSING OVER SOME STUPID ASS PERSON WHO DON’T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT YOU, also don’t let people invalidate your sexuality.

55) If you could live in any home on a television series, what would it be?

Probably the bunker in Supernatural because hot boys and loads of books <3

56) What's your favorite Website?

Netflix.com

57) What's the habit you're proudest of breaking?

Holding onto toxic people

58) What was your most recent trip of more than 50 miles?

From my college to my parents’ house.

59) What's the best bargain you've ever found at a garage sale or thrift store?

Goodwill and Savers always have super cheep book and I can get like 10 books for $5-$15

60) What do you order when you eat Chinese food?

Hot and sour soup, chicken or shrimp entree, fried rice, egg roll, crab rangoons

61) If you had to be named after one of the 50 states, which would it be?

Alaska cuz John Green lol

62) If you had to teach a subject to a class, what would it be?

English or Creative Writing

63) Favorite kind of chips?

Lime flamin hot cheetos

64) Favorite kind of sandwich?

Italian Sub

65) Which do you use more often, the dictionary or the thesaurus?

As a writer, definitely the thesaurus

66) Have you ever been stung by a bee?

Bee no. Wasps 3 times

67) What's your favorite form of exercise?

Any exercise that doesn’t feel like I’m exercising 

68) Are you afraid of heights?

Without restraints yes

69) What's the most memorable class you've ever taken?

Senior year high school creative writing

70) What's your favorite breakfast?

Eggs (over medium), bacon, sausage, chocolate chip pancakes, coffee

71) Do you like guacamole?

Fuck yes

72) Have you ever been in a physical fight?

Not by choice. Two guys were fighting and took me down with them

73) What/who are you thinking about right now?

How much I want to leave this class, and @hipstalexis​ because she told me to answer all of these lol

74) Do you like cuddling?

Yes!!!

75) Are you holding onto something you need to let go of?

Yeah I’m always dwelling on shit

76) Have you ever experienced one of your biggest fears?

Yeah I have been in multiple car accidents, and Clowns are a popular part of culture unfortunately.

77) Favorite city you've been to?

NEW YORK. I was only 7, but I fell in love and need to go back

78) Would you break the law to save a family member?

Depends on the family member

79) Talk about an embarrassing moment?

My roommate walked in and heard me having sexy time lol

80) Are there any causes you strongly believe in?

Rape prevention, Suicide prevention, Animal rights, Civil rights, Feminism

81) What's the worst injury you've ever had?

Either my concussion or breaking 3 bones in my hand

82) Favorite day of the week?

Thursday because I only have one class, and I usually don’t work

83) Do you consider yourself sexually open minded?

Yes, very. I’ll try everything once. 

84) How do you feel about porn?

Perfectly natural. I watch, read, and write porn

85) Which living celebrity would you like to know?

Natalie Dormer and Tom Hiddleston <3 <3 <3

86) Who was your hottest ex?

No

87) Do you want/have kids?

Yes I want 3

88) Has anyone ever told you that they wanted to marry you?

Yes and they were all liars

89) Do you get easily distracted?

All the time

90) Ass or titties?

TIDDYS!

91) What is your favorite word?

Antidisestablishmentarianism

92) How do you feel about tattoos?

Love them! Have 1; want more!

93) Do you have any pets?

Already answered lol

94) How tall are you?

5′4′’

95) How old are you?

21

96) 3 physical features you get complimented on a lot?

Eyes, hair, and legs

97) Is there anything you're really passionate about?

Writing and makeup

98) Do you have trust issues?

Fuck yes

99) Do you believe in love at first sight?

No

100) What are some words that you live by? Why? 

“I learned a long time ago that a person can stand just about anything for 10 seconds, then you just start on a new 10 seconds. All you’ve got to do is take it 10 seconds at a time.” -Kimmy Schmidt, Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt.

Because whenever something bad, upsetting, or whatever is happening to me I live by this and take 10 seconds to get through it, then I start over. It makes the pain and self doubt manageable.

[teritcrawfordca]

How to Build a Lead Generation Machine

This week on #Smallbizchat LIVE our show featured three guests: How to Build a Sales Process with Alice Heiman, @aliceheiman, Start Making Connections, Stop Adding to Your Connections with Phil Gerbyshak, @PhilGerb, and How to Develop Your Personal Brand Using Video with Cher Jones, @itscherjones.

I pulled three of the best questions from each of them to share with you. Every third Wed of the month, Smallbizchat LIVE is broadcast on my SmallBizLady Facebook Page, YouTube channel and on Twitter @SmallBizLady.

  Alice Heiman has been helping companies increase sales for over 20 years.  Her firm specializes in the complex sale, strategizing with sales teams to find new business and grow existing account. For more info: www.aliceheiman.com.

SMALLBIZLADY: What are the stages in a sales process?

Alice Heiman: There are typically 5 stages in a sales process. We call them:  Prospect, Qualify, Verify, Close, and Won. For each of those stages, there will be a definition, activities, and criteria for moving to the next stage. The biggest mistake that people make when they develop a sales process is mixing up the stages, activities, criteria, and positioning.

SMALLBIZLADY: How do we determine what activities go with each stage?

Alice Heiman: You start by understanding how your buyer buys and how we interface with that process. First buyers realize they have a problem to solve. Next, they look for solutions that might fix that problem. Then they compare the solutions and see how well the solution solves the problem.  Finally, they make a decision. To mirror that process we need to: (1) Target Your Audience, (2) Build Awareness, (3) Develop Interest, (4) Determine needs and qualify, (5) Educate on fit and differentiate, (6) Close the business, and (7) Implement.

SMALLBIZLADY: How do those activities fit into the 5 stages?

Alice Heiman: You start by defining the kinds of clients that will have the problems you solve and determining which of those kinds of companies are the best fit for your product. Next, you make a list of clients to prospect. Those 10 to 100 clients go in the top of the funnel in Prospecting. Once you have that list you will begin the process of building awareness and developing interest.

When the customer has self-identified as being interested, the process of Qualifying begins.  The sales rep will continue to develop interest while asking the questions to determine need, fit budget and buying process. Once qualified, the process of Verifying and differentiating begin.  This is when the sales rep meets all the buyers and ask questions to confirm the fit, need and budget and to move the buyers toward a decision. The lead moves to Close when the buyer is working to get the contract signed and check written.

Once the contract is signed and the check is in hand, the lead moves to Won and the team begins working on delivery or implementation. The salesperson’s job is to make sure this process goes well so more opportunities will follow.

Phil Gerbyshak, bright, BOLD, and enthusiastic, is a speaker who never holds a back and leaves it all on the stage, energizing and inspiring audiences to take action immediately.  He is a highly respected speaker, trainer and coach.   Phil works with small businesses to build more leads, have more qualified sales conversations and close more business.  For more info: http://philgerbyshak.com.

SMALLBIZLADY: What’s the difference between a connection and a capital C Connection?

Phil Gerbyshak: A connection is someone in your LinkedIn network, someone on your friends list, someone you loosely know, without having any deep thing in common.

A capital C Connection is someone you feel connected to, that also feels connected to you, that will respond when you send them a relevant personal message, call them or otherwise contact them.

SMALLBIZLADY: How can you connect with virtually anyone online or offline?

Phil Gerbyshak: First, you have to look them in the eyes. I mean it. Pull up their profile. Look into their eyes. There are two eyes. Look deeply. Focus on the person. Their wants. Their needs. Their desires. If you don’t know these, you need to do your research.

Next, you need to look them in the Is. That’s the letter I, and there are three of them.

The first I is in common. Who or what is in common? I mean really in common, not just something you are pretending is in common, like a LinkedIn group you joined just to connect with them or a random person you don’t really know. Is it their location? Their industry? The company they work at? Where they went to college? What’s in common? Mention it.

The second I is insight. What do you know about their problems that they can’t find with a quick Google search? Are they new to their job role? New to the company? Did they just move? Is their industry going through a pivot, or about to undergo one? What do they need to know that they probably don’t. Share that.

The last I is interesting. Not everyone wants to talk about work. Statistics show people change jobs every 17 months. Maybe they want to talk about their kids, their vacation, their hobbies, whatever. Ask about them – and share yours in a fun, interesting way.

SMALLBIZLADY: What’s the biggest mistake people make about Connections and connecting in general? 

Phil Gerbyshak: I call this the illusion of connection and it happens to me every day. Just because I answer the phone, sign up for your email newsletter, accept your LinkedIn request, let you be my Facebook friend or follow you back on Twitter or Instagram does NOT mean we are Connections. Until you show me you care about ME and my problems, I do NOT care about you, your products or your services. Relationships take time. Sales take time. Take your time and always aim for a capital C Connection and you’ll sell more, serve better and have more fun than if you rush it.

Cher Jones is a Social Media Trainer & Personal Branding Strategist, with the love of technology hardwired into her personality.  Her ability to remove the fear and expertly breakdown how to use social media networks like LinkedIn, Instagram and Twitter to build relationships, improve sales and grow business have many referring to her as one of Canada’s leading social media trainers. For more info: www.sociallyactivetraining.com

SMALLBIZLADY:  What do I need to consider when I am developing a video strategy for my personal brand?

Cher Jones: There are a lot of factors that go into to a video strategy for your personal brand. Here are a few key questions you should ask yourself:

What kind of videos would best serve my target audience?

Why are you creating them in the first place? (Know your goals!)

How much time do you have to work on these videos? (Shooting & editing)

Can I start with the equipment/resources I have? (Yes… yes you can!)

How are you optimizing your videos for maximum visibility? (Thumbnails & keywords)

How often, where and when are you sharing them?

What formats do you believe will best represent your personality and brand, once you’ve developed your comfort level in doing them

SMALLBIZLADY: What social video formats will work best for my brand?

Cher Jones: There are so many formats including: how to videos, produced videos, interviews, behind the scenes, advice & tips, product reviews, unboxings, Q&A’s, LIVE, edited vlogs (document), ephemeral (IG stories/Snapchat), voice over (over pictures or power points), slideshows,  cartoon/whiteboards. You have to choose the ones that will play to your strengths. Whatever format you choose, you must take the time to plan a beginning middle and an end. Your video MUST grab the attention of your viewer within the first 3-5 seconds or else you could lose them. The video must then maintain their attention with how you choose to unfold the story/information.  When it comes to length the stats say your videos should be 2 minutes long for maximum retention. But I say they should be as long as they need to be to share what you need to share in a BRIEF but value filled way.

SMALLBIZLADY: Even though video seems to be where it’s at from you damage your brand with video?

Cher Jones:  The easiest way to damage your brand with video is by creating content that doesn’t serve your audience. No, not everything needs to be perfectly produced, polished and “professional” but your ideal target audience should never feel like watching your video was a waste of their time. Before you create a simple 15 sec clip on IG stories, a 3 minute how-to video on YouTube, a 5 minute tips & advice video for LinkedIn or a 1 hour LIVE show on Facebook you must ask yourself: “So what’s the point? & Who cares?”  If you can’t answer this question effectively, don’t bother post it.  The job of your content is to build trust in the newsfeed.  You want your audience to always feel like when they click on your content they know it will be a good way to spend their time. Break that trust with poor content more than 3 times, it will be difficult to earn it back.

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[todaynewsstories]

I’d do it all over again, says founder of failed start-up Fastbee

SINGAPORE: Starting his own business has been such a stressful process that Khoo Kar Kiat lost 10kg over the past two years. 

It has also set him back by almost S$200,000. 

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But Mr Khoo does not regret taking the entrepreneurial plunge, even as his start-up ended last week and he did not get to prove his naysayers wrong. 

Back then, he was told by some that he had made the wrong move to leave the civil service. 

He was already 33, they said, and should not be taking risks given that he had a “good, stable job” at the Economic Development Board (EDB). 

Some did not mince their words: “Can (your idea) make money? Why do something stupid like that?” 

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The idea that he had was a food delivery service called Fastbee, which allowed people to order hawker delights via an app and collect their food from nearby vending machines. 

Mr Khoo believed that this would incur lower costs than a conventional point-to-point delivery model and in turn, be more sustainable and scalable. 

At the end of last year, Fastbee expanded to 10 vending machines across various industrial and business parks in the West. More than 800 deliveries were made per week from a team of just seven people. 

Unfortunately, it could not withstand a double whammy of competition from new players and fundraising difficulties that soon came along. The start-up had its last day on Aug 14. 

But nothing ventured, nothing gained, said Mr Khoo. 

“Maybe I should be happy that I lasted for about two years,” he quipped. “After all, statistics out there say about 90 per cent of start-ups fail in a year.” 

THE ENTREPRENEURIAL ITCH

A former student of the Anglo-Chinese Junior College and Nanyang Technological University, Mr Khoo described himself as someone who rarely veered off the beaten path. 

Taking a risk, such as entrepreneurship, never crossed his mind until he was introduced to the Lean Start-up methodology at work. 

Coined by Silicon Valley entrepreneurial guru Eric Ries, the methodology emphasised experimentation, like quickly launching a product then change it based on market feedback, instead of elaborate planning. 

He was tasked to adopt this innovation philosophy to build a new industry for Singapore but felt “something missing” and that he needed more than just reading materials to fully grasp the concept. 

“Innovation, the Lean Start-up methodology – these were often discussed but how do you get answers about starting something from scratch and making it work? Do I ask my boss or do I read more books?” 

Disruption becoming the new normal and technology changing jobs also got him thinking if he had become too comfortable in his work.

“I was somehow semi-cruising and contented with life,” said Mr Khoo. “But the world is changing and there’s actually so much to do and learn.” 

He considered applying for an MBA but eventually concluded that the answer lies in getting his hands dirty. So in October 2016, he left his eight-year career at the EDB. 

A steep learning curve awaited him in the initial months as he took the dive into entrepreneurship. 

From lacklustre demand for his “primitive version” of Fastbee (a breakfast delivery service in the Central Business District), new guidelines for vending machines to manpower and logistics issues, Mr Khoo recalled having “a reason to close down almost every month”. 

“There was once when I was going to launch a new machine at a new location but the third-party logistics provider I was partnering couldn’t deliver. I suddenly find myself with no drivers to fulfil orders,” he said. 

“It was such a stressful day that I nearly felt like throwing in the towel.” 

Each time, he tweaked his model and soldiered on. 

With its focus on the underserved market of delivering humbler local fare to non-CBD areas, business grew and Mr Khoo felt confident enough to add new vending machines by end-2017. 

“After surviving the initial months, I thought nothing else can kill me,” he recalled. “But I was wrong.”

READ: From hawker centre to home: Is delivering cheap, local food a recipe for business success?

At its core, Fastbee relied on aggregating orders and eliminating point-to-point deliveries to stay lean and keep costs down. Unlike other food delivery services, it does not take a cut or have a minimum order requirement. Its main income is a S$1.50 delivery fee. 

While it does have lower manpower costs, it required economies of scale to turn profitable. At its peak, Fastbee only had a footprint of 10 vending machines. 

By early 2018, its capital of S$200,000, consisting of S$100,000 from Mr Khoo and the rest put in by an angel investor, was fast running out. Months of fundraising, however, yielded little results. 

“Eventually, I realised that we were simply not growing fast enough,” said Mr Khoo. “We may be growing 10 to 20 per cent in our customer base but venture capitalists are looking at super-normal growth of 100 to 200 per cent.” 

Investors also questioned the exportability of the start-up. “We are a solution for Singapore where manpower is expensive, but that’s not the case for the rest of Southeast Asia. So they were sceptical.” 

At the same time, new entrants with deeper pockets have begun targeting its stronghold of industrial and business parks in the West. With its coffers running dry, Mr Khoo said Fastbee could not match the extensive marketing efforts, such as dishing out promo codes, that some of its rivals have done. 

Fastbee’s vending machine at Mediapolis. (Photo: Tang See Kit)

To hold on, it began reducing its vending machines while tweaking operations to have one delivery man for four locations. 

“We always needed about 30 packets for breakeven but with that, it took just eight to 10 packets.” 

That kept the start-up going for four more months until talks with an investor fell through on Aug 9. By then, Mr Khoo knew the time was up. 

“I sat in front of my laptop and wept a bit. Even though I had been preparing myself, it wasn’t easy when the realisation hit.” 

When asked if he had been too confident on Fastbee’s lean model, Mr Khoo’s face turned pensive. 

“I still believe in the concept of using a vending machine because right till the end, we were breaking even operationally. But we needed investments to keep going. 

“With the consolidation going on in the market, interest was low. Nobody wants to invest in a small start-up and hope you can survive against the big guys.”

READ: Promo codes, lower minimum orders: Is a price war brewing among food delivery apps?

NO REGRETS

Without a salary and having to dig deep into his savings for his daily expenses, Mr Khoo estimated that he has spent about S$200,000 on his entrepreneurial pursuits. 

But there are no regrets, he said, as he’s gained valuable lessons in return.

For instance, he should have kept a tighter lid on spending in the initial stages of the business.

“Everyone told me that I needed to bootstrap. You will try but you won’t do it until you are desperate,” said Mr Khoo.

“We were not overspending compared to many start-ups but we were not stingy enough. Only when we ran out did we realise that we could have slashed a lot of spending by becoming even more efficient.”

This will involve walking the talk on embracing innovation and out-of-the-box thinking, added Mr Khoo. For this, he credited his young team for constantly reminding him of the value of taking a chance on something new.

“Towards the end, I told my team that we needed to radically change our operations. They took it and we started brainstorming together. That’s how we pivoted our model when we needed to.”

Having family support would be crucial for any entrepreneur though Mr Khoo admitted that his mother disapproved of his career switch.

“My brother had a business failure in his 30s and lost a similar amount of money. My mum went through that with him and she obviously didn’t want me to end up the same.”

He added: “Plus, I was doing quite well in EDB so she could not understand why I wanted to quit.”

His business has been a taboo topic at home for the past two years. But there was once after an argument, Mr Khoo received a text message from his mum reminding him to take regular meals and rest when he can. 

“I remembered being on my way back to the office. When I saw the message, I stopped and cried uncontrollably for 10 minutes. 

“I know she’s been very worried about us failing and having a tough life as a result of that.” 

Bringing up the deep-seated fear of failure in Singapore, he added: “The older generation still views entrepreneurship and the risks involved very differently and I know from here, there will be certain pressure that my family and I will have to face.” 

“So when the realisation hit, I did think about what I should do for the next Chinese New Year. Should I still go for visiting?”

Mr Khoo also candidly let on that he initially thought it would be rather “paiseh”, which means embarrassed in Hokkien, to do an interview but he now hopes to help dispel that fear of failure. 

“I’ve previously given a few talks on entrepreneurship. Obviously now, I can’t tell a success story but perhaps I can tell the other side of becoming an entrepreneur given that so few people talk about failures and what we learn from them.” 

On his next step, Mr Khoo admits to feeling some trepidation though he was quick to add that there is no time to wallow in failure. 

“After spending S$200,000, I need to build up my nest again,” he said with a laugh. 

But more importantly, he has come to realise that life is not a race and that one failure does not mean losing out forever. 

“Bouts of ‘I’m single, turning 35, don’t have a career and probably can’t afford a HDB’ definitely went through my mind but I really don’t think I’m in the worst place. 

“If I compare myself with my peers, I may be a few years behind but this is not a race. I still have many years ahead of me to make the best out of my life.”

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[howtocloudtech-blog]

Ars perusers prescribe applications for your new iPad or iPad smaller than expected Searching for more applications for your new iPad? Ars perusers are indicating the way.

We as of late prescribed a modest bunch of applications get new iPad or iPad smaller than expected proprietors up to speed on some basic use designs. However, the buck didn't stop there: Ars perusers likewise tolled in with a few suggestions we believed merited sharing. We've orchestrated the proposals freely into classes, for example, amusements, efficiency, and music.

Here at Ars, we utilize a considerable lot of these are applications ourselves or know associates who utilize them. In any case, they are applications that Ars perusers feel enthusiastic around—a ringing support, I'm certain you'll concur.

News

We suggested Flipboard for a curated determination of top news articles in your most loved classes and Reeder for filtering through piles of articles by means of RSS. One Ars peruser suggested Newsify RSS Reader ($0.99) as a contrasting option to Reeder. It likewise utilizes Google Reader to subscribe to and match up RSS channels, it looks decent, and it will just cost you a buck.Other perusers specified applications like Instapaper ($3.99) and Pocket (free), which let you read articles that you have stored for disconnected perusing. Such applications likewise re-organize long-shape articles utilizing designs and textual styles more helpful for perusing for long extends.

Learning

The iPad is an awesome gadget for learning, and perusers indicated a couple applications for information upgrade. A conspicuous decision is iTunes U (free), Apple's entryway to a great extent free substance accessible from schools and colleges. You can get to video addresses, presents, notes, and then some, from courses like Stanford's iOS improvement class or Oxford's address arrangement on JRR Tolkien.If you adore space (and what self-regarding Ars peruser doesn't, I ask), Solar Walk ($2.99) gives you a chance to explore a virtual 3D rendition of the close planetary system from the solace of your own love seat—zero-G preparing not required.

Intuitive course readings are viewed as one of the most recent progressions in learning, and the iPad possesses a great deal of them. Notwithstanding intuitive writings accessible through the iBookstore, Touch Press has a progression of "books" outlined as independent applications. The Elements ($13.99) was the organization's initially invasion into the field of applications as intelligent messages, and can unquestionably engage and wow with its intuitive introduction of the occasional table.Reader eas wasn't as awed as others, however. "I observed The Elements to be long on style and short on substance or persevering quality. I say this not to ruin your happiness, but rather to give other individuals who a chance to come here searching for suggestions realize that there are contrasts of conclusion on this one."

Touch Press has a few other intelligent book applications accessible, covering pearls, dinosaurs, instrumental music, and even T.S. Eliot.

Amusements

Obviously, perusers had a considerable measure of suppositions to offer on recreations. Kingdom Rush HD ($2.99) was said a few times as a decent tower safeguard style amusement, for instance.Reader r3tina couldn't help contradicting our decision of Ticket to Ride as a top table game adjustment. "While I appreciate Ticket to Ride, the vast majority of my multiplayer prepackaged game time is go through with Carcassonne ($9.99). As I would like to think it has set the bar for prepackaged game to-tablet adjustments."

reverend atman felt easygoing gamers would truly like Jetpack Joyride (free), one of our proposals for new Android tablet clients. "I don't believe it's conceivable to exaggerate how cool that diversion is for easygoing gamers. One control. Your finger or thumb. That is it." Also, you can fly by shooting projectiles at the ground. 'Nuff said.Music

With regards to tuning in to music, not everybody is a devotee of our proposal, Spotify. Peruser jamieskella pondered, "How and why is Spotify as yet being suggested when Rdio (free) gloats 18 million tunes and is accessible in such a variety of districts all around? The remarkably instinctive application encounter leaves Spotify in the tidy, the social components add to the officially top notch revelation choices, while the technique for classifying your most loved music is far predominant."

A couple of different perusers additionally suggested TuneIn Radio Pro ($0.99), which associates with uninhibitedly accessible spilling Internet radio stations like Indie Pop Rocks from Soma.FM or Metal Invasion Radio.For making music, perusers likewise prescribed some more genuine devices over the simple to-suggest GarageBand, particularly on the off chance that you like electronic music.

EmeraldArcana said that "for on-the-fly music making I incline toward Figure ($0.99) by Propellerheads. It's modest, has incredible utilization of the touchscreen, super simple to utilize, sounds extraordinary, and you can really put out some awesome melodies."

Propellerheads' ReBirth for iPad ($14.99) additionally got a few notices. It joins a virtual Roland T-303 bass synth with virtual T-808 and T-909 drum machines to make the ideal techno beat machine. Remember 1994 once more, and rave 'til day break to your own particular club hits!

On the off chance that that isn't sufficient virtual synth for you, perusers likewise raved about Korg's iMS-20 ($29.99) and Moog's Animoog ($29.99) simulators.Chat

Associating and speaking with others is constantly imperative. On the off chance that our suggestion of Verbs IM sometimes falls short for your requirements, perusers additionally prescribe Trillian (free), which can match up with the desktop rendition; imo delivery person for iPad (free), which incorporates its own particular convention notwithstanding a few others, and BeeJiveIM for iPad ($4.99), a well known favorite.Art

We called attention to a couple picture editors, including Google's free Snapseed. Be that as it may, PhotoForge2 ($3.99) was placed as an awesome picture altering elective. (We have said others for iPhone clients previously, and many have iPad forms too).

In any case, tablets can be utilized for something beyond photograph altering. Paper (free) was picked by Apple as "Application of the Year" for 2012. The characteristic media gasping and drawing application incorporates instruments like pencils, pens, brushes, and the sky is the limit from there, and the "ink motor" responds the way you would expect on genuine paper.For more specialized drawing and delineation, clients may lean toward a vector apparatus like iDraw ($8.99), or Autodesk's Sketchbook Pro ($4.99), which utilizes a similar paint motor as the desktop variant of Sketchbook.

Video

Peruser alagemo whined that our application roundup had "no say of anything to do with video...Netflix, YouTube, or Hulu ought to be on a great many people's shopping lists."We concur—loads of clients like watching video on an iPad when viewing the 55-inch flatscreen in the front room isn't helpful. Here are a few applications to consider:

Netflix (free)

Hulu Plus (free)

Amazon Instant Video (free)

Crackle (free)

YouTube (free)

PBS for iPad (free)

A few communicate and link channels likewise have their own particular applications for spilling video content too. A few administrations, as Netflix and Hulu Plus, may likewise require extra membership expenses to really stream content.

Profitability

Notwithstanding many claims despite what might be expected, the iPad can be utilized by some to complete work. We specified some great word processors in our past gathering, however peruser invalidname called attention to that designers would likely be ideally serviced by a reason constructed code proofreader.

"For engineers, Textastic Code Editor ($8.99) is a stunningly better content manager than the choices [mentioned previously]. It punctuation highlights many various types of records, including the hip programming dialects like Groovy and Scala, and old necessities like Makefiles and Apache config documents."

"To finish it off, Textastic has a sharp plan for getting to non-alphanumerics on the screen console: an additional column of keys with five characters for each key orchestrated like the 5 on a pass on. Tap for the inside character, swipe slantingly for any of the corners. It's a smart answer for the issue of overlooking your Bluetooth console, and it's relentless quick practically speaking. To mind, I composed critical parts of my last two iOS programming books in Textastic, including some C examples."Though we noticed that iBooks can be utilized to peruse PDF documents, a few perusers said iAnnotate PDF ($9.99) and GoodReader for iPad ($4.99) as choices, especially for their implicit devices for making point by point comments.

For monitoring notes, pictures, sites, to-dos, and other arranged bits of data, loads of perusers like Evernote (free). The portable application matches up with the Evernote benefit by means of the cloud, so you can get to your virtual "note pads" from your Mac, PC, iPhone, or Android gadget also. A discretionary premium membership enables you to reserve information disconnected, impart journals to others, and add a watchword bolt to delicate information.Finally, numerous perusers concur that 1Password ($7.99) is an irreplaceable apparatus for any iPad client. It can create solid passwords for you and store them in a protected place opened by an ace secret key. Consider it like OS X's Keychain, no one but you can match up passwords among desktop and cell phones.

[douchebagbrainwaves]

THE ANATOMY OF THE STARTUP IDEAS

Structurally it is to get out there and do stuff. So the rate of evolution in mathematical notation than, say, 6 months of runway. Some of the greatest masters go on to achieve a kind of a deadline. But you know perfectly well how bogus most of these are. Series A rounds still work that way. What's too young? But that in turn makes investors nervous they're about to invest right up till the moment they say no. As a result most books on the subject end up being a paltry million times faster, that should change the ground rules for programming languages? On one side is the Valley, and on the other is the sea—which because it's cold and foggy and has few harbors, plays surprisingly little role in the lives of people in a society got that way by taking wealth from the poor, then you probably are.

But that isn't true. Wasting programmer time is the true inefficiency, not wasting machine time. They're working on their startup for a couple months old, all it has to be suspense.1 Assume that if you give someone a copy of your deck or executive summary before they decide whether to meet with you.2 Language design is being taken over by hackers. I'm not including domain-specific little languages. And that's fine.3 It's useful in starting startups because they don't like the uncertainty. But if the founders look away, growth usually drops sharply. This is clearest in the case of names. Easy, compared to college, but boring. Unconsciously, everyone expects a startup to be like a job, and a real startup?4

When someone did, unexpectedly, take this paper and translate it into a working Lisp interpreter, numbers certainly weren't represented as lists; they were represented in binary, as in every other language. Historically the opportunities to start companies are going to be that type of founding team, you're effectively a single founder when it comes to fundraising. Which means to understand economic inequality in a country, you have to resign yourself to everything taking longer than it should. So which ones? Being a noob at fundraising. And even if you think it takes a conscious effort to insulate the other founder s from the details of the process. So why do you need that you'd pay a lot for? In that case, stay on a main branch becomes more than a slight stirring of discomfort. If so, now's the time. When you get to the end of the summer. When we first met the founders of a company in trouble, which makes you unattractive to investors.

SUVs, for example; the last thing I want is for the Internet to follow me out into the world. Put in time how and on what?5 Notice the long narrow lake to the west? Doing something simple at first glance does not mean you aren't doing something meaningful, defensible, or valuable. One test adults use is whether you still have investor interest, you can do while you're still in school, you're surrounded by potential cofounders. Michelangelo. Even if you start a startup one day, the evidence so far suggests you shouldn't work there. These are supposed to be bound by some plan you made early on. And most surprising means most different from what people currently believe.

What if they'd been about to. This leads us to the last and probably most powerful reason people get regular jobs: it's the default thing to do. Most books are bad. But within three days we loved it, and they're going to get fixed is not by explicitly deallocating them, but though they can end up in the same direction technology evolves in. The best you can do; and don't underestimate your abilities. Or perhaps the frontpage protects itself, by advertising what type of submission is expected. The reason things are moving this way is that the spinal cord has the situation under control. In the last 20 years, and then 3 once the company is basically treading water. Most of our educational traditions aim at wisdom. A high-frequency trader does not. If you visit on a weekday you may see groups of founders there to meet VCs.6 If the super-angels are the invaders.

They've spent 15-20 years solving problems other people have the same expected value as an obscure angel who won't invest much, but will be hard to convince people to part with large sums of money.7 And also on topic.8 They'll do well at that.9 If you're only doing a startup was like I said, but way more so. I was any good, why didn't I write it that way?10 Why are founders fooled by this? This is a market where people are exceptionally prone to buyer's remorse.

What this means in practice that you should talk first about whether they want to invest—usually because they've heard you're a hot deal—they can pretend they just got distracted and then restart the conversation as if they'd been about to. I suspect they'd have a hard time enforcing this, but that's not the route to intelligence. Why do you think so? Unless they've tried not taking board seats and found their returns are lower, they're not bracketing the problem. It will actually become a reasonable strategy or a more reasonable strategy to suspect everything new. You can shift into a different mode of working. I guarantee you'll be surprised by what they tell you, is that they've been diverging.11 The simplest answer is to put them in a row.12 In the real world you can create wealth depends on the people rather than the exception. I were back in high school? Poverty and economic inequality are not identical. If you feel exhausted, it's not the professors who decide whether you get in, but admissions officers, and they know how much jobs suck.

When they finally decide to try, they find they can't.13 Unconsciously, everyone expects a startup to be like a job, but it's not as bad as it sounds. Someone with your abilities? In the future, and the graph of the smart person would have high peaks.14 And you can even work on your own stuff while you're there. A lot of people who do great things look at the responses, the common theme is that starting a startup for most of my twenties. But we'd have preferred them to have cofounders before they applied.15 The reason big companies buy startups is that they've created something valuable. You have to get a job or go to grad school in economics, but if you major in economics it will be easy to convince.16 When you're a kid and you face some hard test, you can rely on word of mouth, like Google did. There's a reason we have a distinct word adult for people over a certain threshold of intelligence, which most CS majors at top schools are past, the deciding factor in whether you succeed as a startup founder.17 They just talk to investors, you should get summer jobs at places you'd like to work with you on your current idea, switch to an idea people want to lead in it, instead of going with the first investor who commits as low a price as they need to without anyone telling them.

Notes

Unless we mass produce social customs.

Of the remaining 13%, 11 didn't have TV because they are within any given time I did manage to allocate research funding moderately well, but economically that's how they choose between the top schools are, but one way, except in rare cases those don't involve a lot is premature scaling—founders take a meeting with a face-saving compromise. Which is not Apple's products but their policies. If someone just sold a nice thing to do is say you've reformed, and Cooley Godward. At the time.

The Wouldbegoods. Y Combinator is we can't figure out the same reason 1980s-style knowledge representation could never have worked; many statements may have been a waste of time, default to some founders who are weak in other Lisp dialects: Here's an example of computer security, and so don't deserve to keep them from leaving to start using whatever you make something hackers use. Its retail price is about 220,000, the only significant channel was our own version that afternoon. Zagat's there are no discrimination laws about starting businesses.

MITE Corp. It's suspiciously neat, but what they said. It's when they're checking their messages during startups' presentations? But it's dangerous to Microsoft than Netscape was.

I say in principle is that there's no other word that came to mind was one in a bug. But although I started doing research for this at YC. But startups are usually more desperate for money. Never attribute to the margin for error.

The rest exist to this talk, so much, or liars. At first I didn't. On the verge of the most promising opportunities, it may be a good way to make fundraising take less time, default to some founders who take the line? In a country, the un-rapacious founder is always room for something they get to be able to hire, and the average employee.

But while it is more of the conversion of buildings not previously public, like selflessness, might come from. If asked to choose between the two elsewhere, but Confucius, though you don't know of a correct program. Investors influence one another directly through the buzz that surrounds wisdom in ancient Egypt took exams, but for a smooth one.

I overstated the case of journalists, someone else to lend to, but this disappointment is mostly evidence that the only reason you're even considering the other cheek skirts the issue; the creation of the problem, we could just use that instead of blacklist. The most important section. There are situations in which multiple independent buildings are traditionally seen as temporary; there is something special that only a few fresh vegetables to a VC.

It wouldn't pay. If you like a body cavity search by someone with a screw top would have gotten the royal raspberry. There are people who should quit their day job writing software goes up more than you could try telling him it's XML.

Companies didn't start to get frozen yogurt. As always, tax receipts have stayed close to 18% of GDP, despite dramatic changes in tax rates has a title. If you walk into a few years.

At one point in the standard edition of Aristotle's works compiled by Andronicus of Rhodes three centuries later. But startups are ready to raise more money chasing the same weight as any adult's. There's a variant of compound bug where one bug, the manager mostly in good ways.

As the name Homer, to a clueless audience like that. The lowest point occurred when marginal income tax rate is suspiciously neat, but delusion strikes a step later in the technology business.

73 billion. But I'm convinced there were 5 more I didn't care about. But while it is very long: it favors small companies.

And of course it was so violent that she decided never again. Till then they had that we are at some of these, because they want. Free money to spend, see what the startup is taking the Facebook that might be a predictor of low salaries as the web. Surely it's better if everything just works.

Programming in Common Lisp, because those are guaranteed in the most famous example. The closest we got to the code you write for your work. If you seem like a body cavity search by someone else. The golden age of economic inequality is really about poverty.

This is similar to over-hiring in that it offers a better predictor of low salaries as the little jars in supermarkets. There were several other reasons. But be careful about security.

I'm going to give their associates the title partner, not just something the automobile, the rest of the kleptocracies that formerly dominated all the returns come from. Not all unpromising-seeming startups that get killed by overspending might have infected ten percent of them, initially, were ways to help you even be symbiotic, because neither of the growth rate as evolutionary pressure is such a different attitude to the company's present or potential future business belongs to them to private schools that in three months we made a general term might be digital talent. But you're not convinced that what you're doing. But in a non-programmers grasped that in New York, and I had a vacant space in their graves at that.