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tedturneriscrazy · 3 years ago

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Here's Eclipse Lake, an episode that has been highly anticipated! Will it top Knock, Knock, Knockin' On Hooty's Door?

I'll skip the pretense: No. It won't.

You'll see under the cut.

Hmm, that list of ingredients for the Grimwalker...I'll let other people theorize about this (like @sepublic ), but it sure looks like a thing

Guess the mysterious green goo won't cut it, huh?

Belos face reveal already?! Huh, didn't expect it so soon.

Oh, no, he's hot! (And I'm mad about it)

Still an ass, though

Now we know why Hunter was wearing a different outfit (because people fixated on that for some reason)

Amity with the clipboard gives me strong Dipper vibes

GHOST! My beloved!

I need a moment because CAT!

(Also, someone pointed out earlier that Ghost was based on Dana's cat, and that's super obvious in hindsight)

Raine?! Oh, wait, you mean rain. Sigh.

Eda gets training tips from DBZ confirmed

(Also Amity's face when reacting to Eda's explanation is priceless)

Oh God Eda's a weeb I need another moment

Damn, Amity just straight up calling Eda old

Oh, loopy Luz

(The abomination holding the tissue box is adorable for many reasons)

Yeah, don't want Luz to eat the McGuffin

I have several questions about those Tamagotchis that I'll refrain from listing here

Amity your Odalia is showing

Girlfriend counter: 1

(Yes I am introducing a counting gag, deal with it)

Was wondering if they were ever gonna reference the dissection incident. We've come a long way, baby!

Oh, so that's what everyone was looking at

Luz honey your enthusiasm is admirable but no

Luz burrito is quite cute, though

Girlfriend counter: 2

(Damn, still wild to think that that's the case)

Just occurred to me that "Boots" is probably shortened from "Bossyboots" from earlier

Guess the Luz hiss compilation needs to be updated again

Those tunnels ain't the only thing around here that's unstable, amirite?

Oops, guess Kiki was justified, after all

Maybe don't talk so loudly about your plans, dude

That is her son, get it right!

Serves you right for having that stupid strand of hair sticking out like that

Is this just the episode where everyone dunks on White Boy? Because I can totally get behind that.

Already mentioned this, but I am loving the parallels between Katara and Amity with that bottle of abomination goo. Insert obligatory "Two Nickels" meme here about Mae Whitman.

We really are just dunking on the white boy and I am living for it

Hooty had to get it from somewhere, I suppose

Nothing says mother-son bonding like shooting things at each other (see also: Separate Tides)

I'm sure the magic bouncing off the veins won't come into play later at all

Oh well, at least the echolocation looked cool

At this point Amity would kill Hunter for a Klondike bar

Wait why does Hooty need a chair

Willow with the galaxy brain ideas

"A bad but sad boy" Luz is a genius at succinctly summing people up

Kikimora continues to be unhinged. Ironically she's not wrong about Hunter.

Motherfucker stop acting like you know what that says

(Also, projecting much?)

Girlfriend counter: 3

Friendly reminder that Hunter is still an antagonist

Uh oh

UH OH

I know someone mentioned Willow having the brain cell, but honestly it seemed like Luz had it this whole time. And that's not good.

WHY IS FOOL'S BLOOD EVEN A THING

Aaaaand cue the getting screwed over

Further reminder that he's still an antagonist (Apparently there's a vocal segment who's Really Mad at him that seem to forget this fact)

You unhand Ghost right now!! And Amity too, I guess.

(I kid, she's literally my second favorite character)

For what she did to Raine it warms my heart to know Kiki has had zero peace of mind

Wait, the Abomatons are Transformers?! Okay, that's kind of awesome, actually. Alador might be a shit dad but he is a brilliant inventor.

Chucking kids off cliffs is a surpisingly common pastime in the Boiling Isles

Owlbert no!

Eda did spend literal decades fighting the Owl Beast within, so I guess she can't be blamed for not thinking to talk to it

Also hurry up guys I'm very concerned about Owlbert

Fuck yeah Harpy Milf!

Yay Ghost returns!

She's glad they're okay (I didn't need to take this, I just thought it was cute. Also this is surprisingly high quality considering I just took a photo of my TV screen)

Oh, so they do have video games in the Demon Realm. That or Luz introduced them.

Trailer shot!

Oh dear, we about to have a fight over the key

Wow, being so high ranking under Belos is really bad for mental health

Jesus Christ Belos what have you been putting in this poor kid's head?

Leave it to King to give radical recontextualizations

Amity, I'm glad you remembered/realized this about Luz, please don't let the sad white boy play you like that again

Also, I appreciate the gesture you're making, and it's a wonderful summary of your character development, but goddamnit he's gonna go for that key because he's STILL AN ANTAGONIST

"Being nice usually works for Luz!" A) Not always, and B) Amity I love you but Luz you are not. A valiant attempt nonetheless.

Ooh, cool fight scene!

Always lovely to see such superb animation

I was privately griping about not seeing Amity use magic for so long, and now I am fed

Don't think I didn't hear the glass breaking

Appreciate your ass from a hole in the ground, Golden Boy!

(jk I don't actually feel that strongly about him still. That kind of threat still isn't cool, though)

Oh so that's why it's the Common Mold!

It's kinda cute, actually. Or maybe it's just because it's Luz.

TIL Hooty is heat resistant

Apparently Owl Beast just wanted a snack

Girlfriend counter: 4

Also love how calling Amity her awesome girlfriend is literally the first thing Luz says to her upon returning.

Yesssss return the hug! You deserve it!

(I know there are higher quality versions of this screenshot, I just didn't feel like looking around)

King demands huggies, too! (And gets 'em)

Reminder that Amity is smart as hell. I knew that glass breaking indicated something!

So once again I've been had. I let the fandom trick me into thinking this episode would be way more intense. Guess that one screenshot was from the next episode.

Overall this was...fine. Some nice Lumity moments, Harpy Eda strutting her stuff, that gorgeously animated fight sequence; those were all lovely.

I do wish Willow and Gus had a bit more to do. And I'm still rather unenthusiastic about Hunter, to be honest. I've seen his type several times before, and the path they have for him is rather obvious. I may never share the fandom's love for him, and I guess I'll have to deal with that.

Anybody who says this was better than KKKOHD is a damn fool.

Mid season finale next week! I think Yesterday's Lie will finally bring the pain!

#the owl house #amity blight #luz noceda #eda clawthorne #king clawthorne #toh hooty #willow park #gus porter #emperor belos #toh hunter #toh ghost #kikimora #toh s2 spoilers #the owl house s2 spoilers #the owl house season 2 spoilers #the owl house spoilers #toh spoilers

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effervescentdragon · 3 years ago

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Aki. Just answer all the damn question. You want to answer them all and I want go know all of your answers.

I love how you know me so well :D I’ll answer the ones I haven’t covered in the asks before, which is like. Most of them :D :D

2. Favorite Chapter?

The Fall of Gondolin, definitely omfg, you know why, it’s THE chapter for me <3

3. Favorite Character?

ALL OF THEM. But like, canon - Glorfindel, Fingon, Maedhros, TYELPE MY DUMBASS SON <3 Curufin, Feanor, Galadriel, Elrond, Gil-Galad, Cirdan. Fanon - all my fanon of these plus Lalwen my queen, Findis, Elenwe.

5. Elves, Men, or Dwarves?

ALL OF THEM

6. Maiar or Balrogs?

Ugh. I’m indiffferent to Maiar unless it’s Annatar then I love and hate him, and maybe Eonwë, he’s kinda cool, I like heralds. Balrogs killed half my faves (the ones Sauron didn’t) so I don’t know. xD

7. Eagles or Dragons?

DRAGONS!! THE FUCKING EAGLES DIDN’T SAVE THORIN AND YES I KNOW THATS HOBBIT BUT FUCK.

8. OTP?

God. Russingon. (Also Cirdan x Lalwen).

9. What Age of Arda would you like to live in?

First Age, bring on the slaughter baby!

12.You can save one kingdom from destruction, which do you choose?

... fuck idk. Numenor I think. There’s something abt that place.

13. Would you want The Silmarillion to be made into a film or tv series?

NEITHER. FUCK THEM ALL. IT LIVES IN MY HEAD ON A LOOP WITH MY PERFECT CHARACTERS AND ANYTHING MADE WILL JUST RUIN IT BCS IT WOULDN’T BE RIGHT.

15. Post your favorite Ted Nasmith painting.

Oh God. I’m a magpie, or yakno, a dragon. The fucking Nauglamir, definitely.

16. Silmarils or Rings?

I’d fucking burn them all.

17. Are you glad the Last Battle isn't in the published Silmarillion?

I rly wish we could’ve seen how the Professor (re)imagined Ragnarok tbh.

18. What is the hardest name or word for you to pronounce?

Any of the fucking ones that start with ��C”. I hate that it’s “K” and not “S” bcs it fucks with all my phonetics, given the translation practices in Slavic languages and just. UGH.

19. You get to save one character from dying. What would they do instead?

I’m cheating :)

I save Tyelpe, my stupidest son and the one I love with the fire of a thousand suns. He spends a month getting drunk about how stupid he was in love, until Elrond and Gil-Galad come to drag him away from Eregion. They dump him with Cirdan, who is a Good Dad, and helps him find his passion again. His passion becomes taking Sauron down. He tricks Sauron, who thinks Tyelpe is still in love with him. Tyelpe wants to seduce him and then kill him. Tyelpe seduces him but doesn’t kill him, bcs HES FUCKING NOT LIKE THAT AND HE DIES AGAIN OMFG TYELPE YOU STUPID FRICK!!!

20. What do you think Tolkien's message is about possession and wanting to possess?

Ugh. This is a smart one, and my brain is stupid atm, and not serious at all. Okay. Yeah, it doesn’t work. You think you own sth, but earthly posessions are so fucking irrellevant. An excuse to do terrible things. An excuse to sequester yourself, to not think on anything but the past. It fucking doesn’t work, and I’m projecting here, but it’s a fucking illusion. Idk how to elaborate atm, but ask me again at some point.

21. Would you have followed Fëanor from Valinor to Middle-earth?

Yes.

22. What is your opinion of Fëanor?

I wrote a whole post abt Feanaro here. Idk how much of it is still relevant, but at least some of it is I think.

23. Do you have pity for Melkor?

Ugh. No. Sorry, I’m working on being a better person, but it’s a slow process tbh.

25. You get to have a conversation with J.R.R. Tolkien. What would you want to talk about?

As I said before in the other ask, here is how it goes.

Jirt: Hello, my dear. What would you like to talk about?

Me, clenching my fists and gritting my teeth: I have but one question, Oh Great One.

Jirt: Ask, child. I am happy to answer.

Me, grabbing Jirt's collar whilst screaming and crying tears unnumerable: WHO THE FUCK IS EREINION'S DADDY JIRT?!?!?!?!?

THANK YOU FOR READING THIS MONSTROSITY, HERES A PIC OF MY BEDTIME READING FOR THE PAST TWO YEARS <3 (I only cried a little when I got it back)

#akira answers #The Silmarillion #silm ask game #russingon #ereinion WHOS YOUR DADDY #sae i love you #tyelpe you stupid frick

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a-solitary-marshmallow · 3 years ago

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Rewind Chapter 9 - A Deal is Made

When Stan ran off, to Ford’s relief – he didn’t think he could handle any more of Bill’s cruelty towards his little brother – the demon didn’t chase after him. After his little display Bill turned to Ford with a wide, unnatural grin and lifted his arms like an actor bowing after a particularly brilliant performance.

“I do a wonderful Stanford impression, don’t I? It’s pretty easy. You’re like a broken record, Sixer, all repetitive and annoying. ‘My science project, my science project!’ But I really think I spiced it up a bit while still staying in character!”

Ford stabbed a finger at the demon wearing his skin. “You – how dare you?”

Bill merely shrugged and rifled through Ford’s pockets, letting out a little ‘ah’ of triumph when he pulled out a pocket knife. “Hah! I didn’t take you for the stabbing type.”

“It’s for self defense!” Ford fumed.

“Sure, sure, don’t wanna get eaten alive by monsters, excuses excuses.” Bill stepped back, sizing up a nearby tree. “I was looking for rope but this will work too.”

“Wait, what are you-”

Bill placed one hand against the tree’s bark and slammed the pocket knife into it, cutting through skin and flesh to bury the knife into hard wood. Ford hissed.

“That should do it!” Bill said cheerfully, watching blood drip down Ford’s wrist. “That looks like it’s gonna be a gusher, Sixer. I wouldn’t take the knife out if I were you. You never know, maybe you’ll bleed to death!”

Ford very deliberately kept his mouth shut about the placement of arteries in the human body. What Bill didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. And getting stabbed through the hand couldn’t hurt that much, could it?

He soon found out, once Bill zipped away and he lunged back into his own body, that it did indeed hurt. Ford bit down a scream and fought to keep his hand still. Every twitch and tremor sent pain racing down his arm and he was very aware of the metal piercing through his hand, sharp edge rubbing up against skin and muscle and nerves.

Ford grabbed the handle of the pocket knife with his free hand (pain pain pain) and wrenched it out. This time he couldn’t smother the scream that bubbled from his lips. He dropped the bloody knife and clutched at his bleeding hand.

Calm. Calm down. He couldn’t help anyone if he was panicking.

Ford fumbled around in his pockets until he found a handkerchief, wrapping it around the seeping wound and tying it tight with his teeth. It wasn’t a long-term solution but it would stop dirt getting under the skin, and hopefully slow the bloodflow. Though the fabric was already getting stained with red.

Move. He didn’t have time to waste, Bill could have caught up to Stan already. Who knew what the demon would do? Ford took off through the trees in the direction he had seen Stan run, every step sending a flash of burning pain up his arm.

By the time he caught up with his brother he was lightheaded, a yellow triangle swimming in his vision – Stan looked so small, so confused in the demon’s shadow. Ford would not fail his brother again.

“STAN!”

_______________________________________________________________

Ford was here. Stan’s gaze snapped up at his brother’s shout, the traitorous part of him whispering, ‘apologize, make him like you again’. He clenched his fists as Ford staggered into sight, looking kinda pale.

“Stan-” Ford caught a tree and clung to it as he struggled to regain his breath. He looked shaky, and Stan ached to go over and make sure he was alright. He took a few steps past the demon despite himself. “Stanley – listen to me, whatever Bill is telling you, it’s a lie-”

“Well well well well well!”

Stan was treated to the lovely sight of the skin on Bill’s back peeling open to reveal an eyeball, his body contorting and turning inside out until he was staring right at Ford with that neon yellow gaze.

“Just when I thought I’d taken care of you.”

Stan hesitated, the word striking a chord. “…taken care of? What does that mean?”

Bill drifted forward, placing himself in front of Stan but Ford looked right past the triangle, staring at Stan with desperation in his gaze. It made Stan’s stomach twist, made him feel guilty and angry and so very confused. He wrapped his arms around himself and backed away, Ford reaching after him.

“Stanley please. I’m sorry – I was stupid and cruel and I treated you badly because I was angry, but you didn’t deserve it. I saw what Bill said to you in my body and it’s not true, Stan, none of it’s true-”

“Shut up!” Stan stabbed a finger in Ford’s direction, glaring at him through tears. Ford didn’t even look scary anymore – just afraid, and that was the scariest thing. Adult Ford was supposed to be big and determined, he wasn’t supposed to be afraid. “Just – just shut up! I don’t even know what you’re saying!”

“Exactly!” Bill’s cheerful tone reverberated through the trees, making Stan shiver despite himself. “The man’s speaking nonsense, don’t listen to him.”

Stan wasn’t smart, but he wasn’t totally stupid either. He could see the ‘shut up’ glare the demon sent his brother. Bill was trying to be his friend, why was he hiding something from him?

Ford pushed himself off the tree to stand by himself, gaze still fixed on Stan. “The eyes, Stanley! What colour were my eyes, when I was saying those terrible things to you?”

“I dunno!” Stan yelled back.

What kind of stupid question was that? Stan didn’t want to think about that, he didn’t want to think about how he was a dead weight and a nuisance and how Ford was better off without him. But something – something about that encounter seemed off…

“Answer me, Stanley!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“What colour were my eyes?”

“Yellow!”

Wait.

Yellow?

“Please believe me.” Ford stepped closer, holding his hands out desperately. “Bill took over my body and he made me hurt you, more than I already have. He’s evil, he’s trying to take advantage of you and trick you into doing terrible things. And – I know you have no reason to believe me. I know I’ve treated you badly, since you arrive at Gravity Falls and before that. But please.”

Stan twisted his hands, anxiety swirling in his stomach and making him want to barf. He glanced up at the fuming demon.

“You’re all-powerful, right?”

“Stanley no-”

Bill’s body flashed lemon-yellow, his eye curling into a grin as he spun around to face Stan. “Sure I am kid! I can get you anything you want.”

“…anything I ask for? Anything at all?”

“You bet!”

“Stanley! He’s trying to trick you, he’s evil-”

“Oh shut it, Sixer!” Bill snapped his fingers and Ford’s body lurched sideways, sending him slamming into a tree with a yelp. He slumped to the grass. Stan dug his fingers into his palms. “See, kid? When you open the portal I’ll be even more powerful! Enough to give you anything you want.”

Stan looked between the prone body of his brother and the demon, and he made his decision. His hand reached out to snatch Bill’s.

“It’s a deal.”

Blue flames erupted across their joined hands, flicking over Stan’s skin but not burning, warm and tickly. Bill’s eye creased up in a grin.

“I knew you were the smart one! Now come on, name your price! Anything you want is yours, once you open the portal for me.”

Stan frowned, staring at their joined hands. The fire was the least weird thing about these last few days – it blazed warm and blue, spitting sparks every which way. Hypnotizing, almost. It was so much power – not his, of course – but flaming at his fingertips. He wanted it.

Bill released his hand, letting Stan’s drop down by his side. Stan stuffed them in his pockets, feeling the tingle of residual warmth against his skin.

“Well? I don’t have all day!” Bill heaved a sigh, folding his little stick arms. Stan’s mouth tasted sour. “What’s your price? A galaxy all of your own, right? Or a billion dollars?”

“…I want a hug.”

Silence reined in the clearing.

“Are you kidding me?” Bill’s eye hung open in disbelief. “I’m offering you your own galaxy and all you want is a flipping hug?”

Stan nodded. “Yep. And like you said, you gotta give it to me.” He opened his arms. “I want my hug now.”

Bill sighed in frustration. “I’m incorporeal, kid, I can’t give hugs. Why would I even want to touch a fleshbag like you in the first place?”

Stan put his hands on his hips. “You’re just gonna have to be corp-or-real. I know you can, you can touch and move things around! You gotta do the deal or the whole thing’s off, remember?” He scowled. “If I don’t get my hug you can’t use me to open the portal.”

“Ugh.” Bill’s form shimmered, becoming a little more corporeal – enough, at least, to interact with the physical world. The triangle’s ‘face’ screwed up. “Gross. Let’s get this over with already.”

He extended his stick-arms out with a grimace, and Stan flew in to hug him, wrapping tiny arms around the triangular body and squeezing tight. Bill let out a disgusted noise and patted his back awkwardly.

“There. There’s your hug.”

Stan pulled back enough to grin at him. “You give shit hugs.” Then he jammed the magic capsule into Bill’s huge eye.

The triangle-

Screamed.

There was an explosion of light and colour and searing heat that scorched across his face and Stan was flying back, breath knocked out of his lungs. He slammed into something and that something wrapped its arms around him and swung him away from the blast, shielding him with its body.

When Stan’s ears stopped ringing and the spots faded from his vision, the sight that met his eyes made him freeze.

Bill was dripping, fizzling like a dying candle, his eye seeping down his figure and body glitching red in places, showing glimpses of scarlet-colored bricks and bits of muscle and scenes played in sepia like they were being shown on an old TV. The demon lurched towards them, fingers curled into half-melted claws and body pulsing with its deep, distorted voice like an earthquake.

“STANLEY-”

There was the pop of a rifle being discharged and a hole blew open Bill’s body. Something crackled like broken glass, and then the demon

shattered.

#gravity falls #rewind #chapter 9 #the stans #oh gosh this is coming late #we're near the end now #chapters will be coming faster #rip my writing pace #hope you guys enjoy anyway

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elizabethsway · 3 years ago

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I am not a science person but I was watching (yes, I watch too much tv) this show called Put Your Head on My Shoulder, when I heard a funny line that I wish I can use.

Basically, this guy is super smart and I think his teacher or advisor was bothering him with questions, so he sat down and put on some goggles before looking to the man that was pestering him. In order to get the guy to pop off, he said "I'm doing an experiment, but there's only one set of goggles."

In other words, go away I don't want to be bothered. I love it. It is sassy and reminds me of my favorite way that I have ever heard someone say that they lied. It was Jeremy on The Mindy Project and he said something along the lines of "It was a fiction, and I, it's author" when describing how he tricked and lied to his coworkers.

There are many fun ways of to get your point across and I know a lot of people prefer to reduce language to things like "lol", "sus" or even in the form of emojis, but I love it when people elaborate words into elegant strokes of art.

I'm not even that good at it myself, but I get so giddy just hearing people be so playful with the arrangement and elaboration of the words they choose to use.

Gu Weiyi - Lin Yi

Jeremy Reed - Ed Weeks

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uncloseted · 4 years ago

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Hey, I’m a big fan of your blog! When I saw the post about stupid questions, I thought I’d ask for some help. This isn’t necessarily stupid, but I don’t know.

How can I seem more confident?

I am confident within myself, but people are always telling me how insecure I am. Everyone is saying that I should be more confident. I don’t feel insecure, so why do I seem that way? I can be kind of quiet, so maybe that’s why.

Thanks! This isn’t a stupid question at all! The thing I get asked the most is actually how to build self-confidence or to care less about what other people think. For you, it seems like the issue isn’t actually in having self confidence, but in projecting self confidence. Some of that is in body language- having good, open posture (no crossed arms or legs), making eye contact, standing firmly, and not fidgeting will help to convey confidence. Some of it is in language- instead of hedging what you’re going to say will, “I think” or “maybe” or minimizing your feelings with “just”, try making clear, concise, and strong statements that end declaratively rather than questioningly. And some of it is in actions- do you ask everyone around you what they think before you make a decision? Do you defer to other people when a decision has to be made? Do you do things that you’re interested in, wear things you want to wear, watch what you want to watch, etc., regardless of what your friends are doing? You might appear more confident if you start asserting yourself or focusing less on what other people think of you.

Here are some other tips and tricks I’ve amassed for building self-confidence and not caring what other people think. Some of it might be relevant for you and some of it might not, but hopefully someone who needs it will see it.

The first thing to remember about confidence is that people aren’t drawn to people because they’re beautiful, or smart, or kind, or fun, or interesting. People are drawn to people who are confident (or appear to be confident). If you’re confident and weird, you’re not weird, you’re a visionary. If you’re confident and ugly, you’re not ugly, you’re “unconventionally beautiful” or a trendsetter. If you’re confident and overly serious, you’re not boring, you’re a leader. A lot of people think it’s the other way around- that only beautiful, smart, charming people who are well-liked can be confident- but it’s not true. To use a Skins example, Tony’s not a good person. He’s manipulative and cruel. But people like him (at least in the beginning) and go along with what he says because he’s confident. The same goes for Katie. You can argue about whether she’s objectively the most attractive girl in the group, but she acts confident in herself and in her appearance, and it works. Lots of guys are attracted to her. So that’s the first thing- don’t focus on changing yourself (physically or emotionally) in the hopes that you’ll be more confident. Instead, focus on changing your mindset to that of a confident person. It will make a huge difference.

Of course, that’s all easier said than done, and the process of building self confidence can take a while. In the meantime, while you’re on the journey of actually becoming confident, one thing that can help is “faking it until you make it”. When you’re going about your day, ask yourself, “how would a confident person who’s never experienced insecurity or anxiety handle this situation”? Then do what a confident person would do. If you have a really confident friend, it can help to imagine what they would do in a given situation and then do that. Pretend everyone you meet already loves you and thinks you’re great. Pretend like you think you’re great. It will feel uncomfortable at first, but you’ll start getting used to it and the “confident” responses to things will start feeling normal. One thing that can make this a little bit easier is to talk to yourself in the second person. By saying things like “you’ve got this”, your brain will (sort of) feel like you’re receiving advice from somebody else, which is more motivating than getting advice from ourselves.

There are also some exercises you can use to build your self confidence on your own. Some of you have heard this one before, so bare with me, but the first thing I suggest is: every morning, look at yourself in the mirror and say some things you like about yourself. I know you probably feel like you can’t find any, but try. Focus on those things that you like and try to only focus on those things. Write them down, either physically (on a sticky note on your mirror, maybe) or in your phone. Each day, try to add a new thing to the list. When you’re out and about, remember those things that you like about yourself, focus on them, and try to draw attention to them. When other people compliment you, add those to your list as well. I think eventually by recognizing all of the things that you like about yourself, you’ll be able to feel like there are things about you that you can be confident in, and you won’t focus so much on the things that you feel are negative. These don’t have to just be things that are physical. You should include things you like about your personality as well.

A lot of people who are insecure use deprecating humor to cope and as a bid to get other people to like them. But I think that can be really emotionally damaging. Like Hannah Gadsby said in Nanette, “I have built a career out of self-deprecating humor, and I don’t want to do that anymore..do you understand what self-deprecation means when it comes from somebody who already exists in the margins? It’s not humility. It’s humiliation. I put myself down in order to speak, in order to seek permission to speak, and I simply will not do that anymore, not to myself or anybody who identifies with me.” Self-deprecation impacts our self-esteem, and it impacts the way people around us view us. The more times we say something, even as a joke, the more we start to believe it, and the more the people around us start to believe it. So instead, make fun of yourself by pretending you’re really, really cocky. If you trip and fall, instead of saying, “I’m such a disaster”, replace it with “I’m the epitome of grace and beauty”. If you make a piece of art and you think it sucks, say, “Obviously I’m the next Di Vinci/Michelangelo/whatever.” If you say something dumb, instead of saying, “I’m so stupid,” say, “I’m clearly the next Einstein.” You still get to make a joke and diffuse any awkwardness the situation has, but you also get practice saying nice things about yourself. And eventually, you’ll get so used to saying nice things about yourself as a joke that it won’t feel so weird to say those things about yourself in a serious way, too.

For those people who feel insecure about things they did in their past, try and think of something embarrassing one of your friends has done. Can you think of anything? The vast majority of people remember their own embarrassing moments really vividly, but don’t remember things other people have done at all. Reminding yourself that you’re probably the only one who remembers or cares about the mistake you made can help you let go. The mistakes you’ve made in the past are learning experiences that you’ve grown from and changed from, and the fact that you’re embarrassed by them is a good thing. It means that you’re not that person anymore- that you’ve become someone better. I think that’s something to celebrate instead of something to cringe at. It can also help to talk to yourself as if you were a friend who’s remembering an embarrassing moment. Would you tell them how embarrassing that moment was and how much they suck? Probably not. You’d be nice to them and tell them things will be okay. Talk to yourself like you would a friend.

The fact that people aren’t paying attention to what you’re doing doesn’t just apply to cringey things you did in your past. People are unlikely to remember that one time you tried a new hairstyle or wore an unusual piece of clothing. They’re unlikely to remember that one time you asked someone out and they rejected you. So many of the social pressures we feel can be remedied by remembering that most people are way too worried about what they’re doing and how they appear to the world to care about what you’re doing.

One more piece of advice- stop comparing yourself to other people. The old adage, “comparison is the thief of joy” is totally, scientifically proven to be true. Comparing ourselves to other people (or to TV shows, movies, characters in books, etc) makes us much less happy because we’re comparing everything we know about ourselves, good and bad, with a curated version of this person. We don’t see them when they wake up in the morning with crusty eyes and frizzy hair, or when they have the flu, or when they’re overwhelmed and anxious and lashing out at the people around them. But the truth is that everyone, even the people you think have perfect lives that you see on social media, are just people. They have bad habits and negative traits and days where they’re not at their best, just like the rest of us. If you really want to start being confident, one of the best things you can do for yourself is to mute or unfollow the people who make you feel insecure online, and replace them with people who inspire you- artists or activists or cute videos of animals, whatever works. You’ll never be able to feel good about yourself if you’re constantly tracking all the ways in which you feel you don’t measure up. But you will if you’re constantly seeing all the ways in which you do.

Last thing. Basic life care stuff, like good posture, exercising, eating well, sleeping well, meditating, and just generally practicing self-care and taking care of yourself can improve your confidence as well. If you’re not starting on a strong foundation, it’s hard to build anything that will last. But if your foundation is solid, all of the things you do to build your self-confidence on top of that will be, too.

#Anonymous #effys-closet #effys closet

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random-thought-depository · 4 years ago

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The Star Trek TOS episode Space Seed was on TV Saturday; the episode with Khan (the genetically engineered “superman” Khan, not the guy who built Data Khan).

And a thought occurred to me. So, in the episode they comment on how Khan has “magnetism” and he’s portrayed as charismatic and seductive (both in the sexual/romantic sense and in the more general sense). Personally I didn’t really see the appeal, he seemed like basically just an unpleasant violent narcissist to me, but then I guess some people are into that; I guess he might appeal to the sort of person who really likes Donald Trump.

But I had a thought... OK, Khan is supposed to be a genetically engineered “superman,” created to be superior to ordinary humans; stronger, smarter, etc.. And a lot of physical attractiveness is features that indicate health and genetic fitness. So maybe Khan would look unnaturally handsome. Like, maybe he has super-symmetrical facial features and absolutely perfect skin and teeth and he moves with the speed and grace of a natural Olympic-level athlete and Julliard-level dancer and so on. He doesn’t look that way to me, but we can apply the logic fans have applied to Klingon foreheads and the rubber suit Gorn in TOS and assume what we see on the screen is an imperfect reflection of what Khan “really” looks like. Maybe a lot of Khan’s charisma is just halo effect from him being unnaturally handsome! He has such a big ego and is so proud of his own cleverness and “natural leader” personality traits, I think it’d be funny if a lot of his charisma is really something stupid like that and he’s smart and observant enough to realize it and deep down it bothers him a little!

Mmm, concept:

It does bother him. He uses it, of course. Charisma is a powerful tool and weapon; to refuse to use it out of petty pride would be foolish. And he really is charismatic in the ways he’s proud of being. He really is smart enough to figure out what makes people tick and use that knowledge to manipulate them. He really does have the drive, ambition, vision, and aggression of a natural conqueror, and people sense that and respond to it. He really does impress people with his intelligence and strength. It’s hard to untangle all this from the boost his charisma gets from his unnatural beauty, and to try is at best a matter of blue sky curiosity, at worst indulging one of his few gnawing goblins of self-doubt. Khan is smart enough to know what his charisma is, and pragmatic enough to use it to its full potential.

Still, deep down it bothers him to think that some of his charisma is something that stupid; to think that a difference of a few millimeters of bone and tissue here and there might have made him less successful. Khan relishes bending people to his will with his mind; knowing that something as stupid as “deep down that person wants to please me because I’m beautiful and it feels good to be liked by a beautiful person” is part of the “recipe” taints his triumph, makes him doubt himself. It’s one of the few sources of self-doubt Khan has.

Not everyone responds to Khan’s unnatural handsomeness the same way. A significant minority are actively repulsed by it; they find him too handsome, too perfect; they find it uncanny valley-ish, creepy. And some people just don’t seem to notice physical attractiveness much, or just don’t seem moved by it. And sometimes people are uncomfortable with the feelings Khan’s unnatural handsomeness creates in them and this makes them hostile to him; that happens especially often with men. Khan relishes dealing with people who don’t respond positively to his beauty, manipulating them, bending their minds and hearts to his will. With them he knows it’s a true match of wits and personality; with them his victory is pure.

On a certain level, deep down, Khan envies people like Adolf Hitler, who were charismatic but physically unattractive. They could be secure in the knowledge that their power came from the strength of their minds. When he was younger he once half-seriously considered mutilating his face or getting plastic surgery to make himself uglier, just to make manipulating people more of a challenge, but that was a foolish idea, and he no longer entertains it with any seriousness.

His fellow “superiors” have the same unnatural beauty, and he sometimes wonders if they have the same feelings about it. He’s discussed the matter with a few who he’s closest to, but it’s not something he talks about much.

He tells himself that people responding to his beauty are just responding to his natural fitness to lead in a roundabout way. He asks himself rhetorically why people desire to please and serve beautiful people, and he answers his own question thus: partly because beauty is correlated with health and genetic fitness, and therefore with intelligence and sanity! This leadership-selection strategy is not conscious, but natural selection has carved it into human behavior at the genetic level. This makes him feel a little better, but still... He knows well how sloppy such intuitive heuristics are, and the idea of owing some of his success to something so loosely connected to the strength of his mind bothers him a little. It bothers him, mildly and secretly but persistently, like a cigarette burn under his shirt.

Sometimes Khan wonders if some beautiful women, Marilyn Monroe for example, felt something like the way he feels. To consider this thought gives him a strange feeling; it makes him feel an empathy based on shared suffering of a sort, and he’s not used to empathizing with normal humans that way.

Khan is good at empathizing with people in the sense of cognitive empathy, of knowing how they think, of course. It’s an important part of his charisma; to manipulate people it really helps to understand them. Some conversation with a normal and observation of them and he can often predict their reactions better than they can. But the sort of empathy that comes from shared suffering ... he’s not used to feeling that toward normals. He’s really not used to feeling it toward anybody, because he’s experienced very little suffering. There was the suffering of defeat at the end of the Eugenics Wars, of course, and ... that was about it. He grew up pampered and privileged, surrounded by his creators, who treated him like a prince and told him he was special, better than most people, the next step in human evolution. He had tremendous power and privilege for most of his life. His perfect body has only ever known two kinds of pain, injury-pain (rarely) and exhaustion-pain (mostly only mildly); he has never felt a headache or a back-ache or anything like that, he has never been sick. Even the suffering of defeat was mostly an abstract intellectual and emotional pain; only at the very end was he in any sort of direct physical danger. He has been in battle, he fought hand-to-hand during the coup that first brought him to power and during the chaotic last days before he fled from Earth, he has directly killed people in combat ... but that was more exhilarating and fun to him than anything else; his creators gave him the temperament of a brave warrior.

Once, early in his rise to power, Khan tortured a prisoner by burning them with a lit cigarette. How the weak little thing squirmed and squealed! Afterwards, he tried burning his own arm with a lit cigarette, just to see what it felt like. The pain didn’t seem so bad to him, but then his creators made him resilient enough that he doesn’t need to coddle every little injury, and they adjusted his nervous system suitably, gave him a high pain threshold.

Sometimes Khan does experience a pang of sad visceral empathy toward the unfortunate. He imagines what it would be like to be one of the wretched of the Earth: poor, slow, stupid, weak, sickly, ugly, awkward, wracked by physical and emotional pain, tormented by hunger, thirst, heat, cold, chronic pain, sadness, anxiety, fear, loneliness, impotent anger, shame, sexual frustration, battered about like a leaf in a storm by forces they can’t understand and can’t effect, used and tricked and abused by people smarter or stronger or just higher-status. That ... that must be awful. In his own arrogant, condescending way he really does want to help the normals. He really does want to fill full the mouth of famine, and bid the sickness cease. He intended to make the world orderly and peaceful, and to make sure everyone had the food, shelter, clothing, medicine, etc. they needed and lived in what he considered reasonable comfort and dignity. He created as close an approximation as he could of those conditions within the domains he controlled. They say he was the best of the tyrants.

He’s a convinced elitist, but it would only have been temporary. If he’d won, within a few generations everyone would have been a superior, like him. With time the process that created him could have been made cheaper, made available to everyone who wanted to make a child; if he’d won he’d have made that a great civilizational project, as important as the fusion reactors he saw providing endless cheap energy by burning the deuterium of the oceans and the great vaccination and infrastructure-building campaigns he intended to launch in Africa and Asia and Latin America and the asteroid mining and the... No more need for an elite of superiors when everyone is a superior. And no more arthritis, or depression, or ... so many bad things would have disappeared into the history books when the last generation of normals expired peacefully of old age (joining war and poverty, which he intended to banish into the past much sooner). And in the mean time he’d have seen to it that the last generations of normals lived in as much comfort and dignity as their flawed bodies and limited minds permitted.

And that would have only been the beginning! He looked forward beyond that, to future generations that would be as far beyond him as he was beyond the normals - further! He looked forward to a future of - who knew, immortals seemed like the next obvious step. And after that perhaps god-like immortal minds freed from the limitations of flesh, building for themselves vast magnificent new bodies of silicon and steel in which they would outlive the stars. He probably wouldn’t have seen it, as perfect as his body is it still ages. He wouldn’t even have outlived the last normals. Like Moses, he would have led his people to the border of the promised land but died outside its gates, it would have been to his successor or his successor’s successor to lead them through into the land of milk and honey and dwell there with them. But, perhaps, huddled around one of the last black holes at the end of the time, sipping Hawking radiation to power slow thoughts that took a thousand years to think, there would have been beings that remembered him, that saw his face and touched his hand in the staggeringly distant era when they were still human and had chosen to keep the memory of that as the stars burned out and all through the long bright joyous festival in the cold of the ultimate night. That concept pleased him.

It was not to be. Well, he doesn’t blame the normals too much for rejecting him. The way he figures it, most of them just weren’t smart enough to understand what he was offering, and getting angry at them for that is like getting angry at a non-verbal autistic for being unable to speak.

Once, when he was a child, he was walking alone through the expansive beautiful pleasant garden of his creators’ compound, in the pleasant cool of evening after a hot Indian day, and he found a bird with an injured wing. He supposes Dr. Hibbert’s cat must have mauled it and then gotten distracted by something and wandered off. One of its wings was bloody and wounded and broken and twisted, dragged against the ground as it walked. When he walked toward it, it walked away from him as fast as its little legs could carry it, and then it tried pathetically to fly, flapping its wings furiously and impotently. The sight of it filled him with a queasy mix of revulsion and pity. His first impulse was to run away from it, and his second impulse was to seize a stone and put it out of its misery, but his third impulse, the one he chose to obey, was to capture it and try to fix its wing and tend to it and feed it until it healed. It tried to escape from him as he tried to capture it, and it struggled furiously as he seized and held it, beating its wings furiously and scratching at the air and his hand with its claws. The panicked, vital thing in his hands revolted him, and its claws scratched his fingers and drew blood, but he forced himself to be as gentle with it as he could, to bring it inside and clean and apply antibiotic to its wound and reset and bandage its wing as it tried to escape his grip. He knew it was only natural that it would fight him and try to escape from him; it couldn’t understand that he was trying to help it; its brain couldn’t be much bigger than a peanut, far too small to contain the knowledge of what he was trying to do for it, too small to contain anything but that which was immediately relevant to its wretched and limited life, the search for food and the avoidance of and flight from predators and the building and tending of a nest and mating and laying and tending of eggs and tending of any young that might hatch from them. If it thought at all about what was happening to it, it probably thought he was trying to eat it, or more likely its struggles were simply instinctive, and the process of setting the wing and cleaning and bandaging the wound must have caused it pain. He set its wing and cleaned and bandaged its wound despite its efforts to escape him, and then he put it in a cage Dr. Pretorius gave him and he fed and tended it until its wing was healed, and then he took it into the garden and let it fly away, to continue its wretched and limited and meaningless life in the wild. Perhaps it lived to its kind’s version of old age (perhaps 15 years, he looked it up, and he has an almost eidetic memory) and knew a few moments of something like joy now and then, or perhaps it was eaten by a cat the next day.

When he thinks of the defeat that forced him to flee from Earth, deep into the dark, he thinks of that bird scratching his fingers as he tried to help it.

They say he was the best of the tyrants.

He killed more people than Hitler and Stalin.

------

Note: this is a model for, like, approximately Space Seed period Khan; Wrath of Khan period Khan has known real suffering intimately and would be a lot more bitter. Negative character development lol. Especially as the whole “we couldn’t tell two completely different planets apart” thing in Wrath of Khan is so absurd that I kind of headcanon that would actually happened is that Khan wanted revenge for his wife’s death, decided he’d rather be the ruler of a populous world than the leader of a 72 person village, tried to MacGyver up a small starship to reach a civilized world, ended up crashing on the much less habitable next planet out in that solar system, and in true Hitler/Trump-like fashion blamed somebody else (Kirk) for the consequences of his own overreach and disastrous failure.

#Star Trek #character concepts #fanfiction #flash fiction #cw: ableism #kinda #I think that Mel Baggs all oppression is rooted in ableism thing #would apply intensely to what went wrong with Khan and his supermen #I can't believe I got feels for this jerk writing this!#when I was deliberately writing him to come off as arrogant and unpleasant!#like Moses lol he would think of it that way!#I guess I'm just a sucker for that optimistic high SF stuff #also I do see him as a monster that was made not born #it's not superior ability creates superior ambition #it's that he's got rich spoiled gifted kid syndrome from Hell!

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horansqueen · 4 years ago

Text

You & Me : chapter 31

A Niall Horan fanfiction ; rated MA

Sequel to AM CONVERSATIONS

CHAPTER 1 || CHAPTER 2 || CHAPTER 3 || CHAPTER 4 || CHAPTER 5 || CHAPTER 6 || CHAPTER 7 || CHAPTER 8 || CHAPTER 9 || CHAPTER 10 || CHAPTER 11 || CHAPTER 12 || CHAPTER 13 || CHAPTER 14 || CHAPTER 15 || CHAPTER 16 || CHAPTER 17 || CHAPTER 18 || CHAPTER 19 || CHAPTER 20 || CHAPTER 21 || CHAPTER 22 || CHAPTER 23 || CHAPTER 24 || CHAPTER 25 || CHAPTER 26 || CHAPTER 27 || CHAPTER 28 || CHAPTER 29 || CHAPTER 30

NOTES:

-one chapter is her pov, the next is his. -4.3k -im sorry, i never proofread, i hate it. -there WILL be smut. but not only smut. -this is a romance, comedy, smut story. -for the summary, check my MASTERLIST.

- notes: not many ppl give me feedbacks these days so idk if ppl are losing interest or just busy but yea, i miss it. also, i know i normally update every other day but most likely, my next chapter will be up sunday and not saturday because i have plans! thanks!

if you want to be on the list of blogs i notify when this is updated, just message me :)

requests! : i changed them a bit to fit the story but i hope you like it!

Chapter 31 : His chapter

NIALL

I had everything packed for days but I had hidden all my stuff in a wardrobe, in my room. Still, my eyes always moved there by themselves as if i was dreading all of this. It was like that specific wardrobe was on fire and I had simply closed the door and ignored it. I didn't want to think about being away from her.

I had spent all my time with Olivia when I was not at rehearsal but I already missed her. I had no idea how tough it would be to be away from her for weeks but I knew it was going to be bad. We often ended up at my place just to cuddle and watch tv simply because it was easier and we didn't have to always check if we were papped or recognized. We also didn't have to stop ourselves from showing each other affection which was a good thing because I knew we'd have to restrain our impulses when she'd join me on tour.

I felt her foot run up my leg under the table and put my gaze back on her, making her smile as she held her glass of wine up.

"You're not listening to me, are you?"

My lips parted and she chuckled, taking a sip of her glass. It was her third one and I grabbed my own, tilting it a bit to make the dark liquid move as I looked at it.

"I'm sorry, pet, what were you saying?" I asked, looking up in her eyes as she sent me a sad smile.

"Just that I'm jealous you're going to Ireland." she pointed out. "And without me, too."

My heart ached at the thought and I moved closed on the table, leaning my elbows on it.

"Come with me. I want to start this tour with you."

Her eyes went soft and she tilted her head on the side, glancing down at her hand before looking up at me and I just knew she was going to refuse. I could also read in her eyes that she wanted to come, and that the answer she had to give me really hurt her.

"I can't. We start filming in 2 days. I have a scenes and I have to check the text and everything." she explained before sighing. "I wish I could come, though, I miss it."

I felt something twist in my heart but I was not sure if it was because she couldn't come with me or because she was about to spend time with her ex fiance. Perhaps it was a bit of both, and when I felt her foot move up my leg under the table again, I held my breath.

"So I hate to ask but, how do you feel about playing the girlfriend of the man you were supposed to marry?" I wondered, putting my glass back on the table and leaning against my chair.

Her eyes dropped to her plate and her foot moved away from my leg. The atmosphere felt heavy suddenly and I had the feeling that she didn't expect me to ask this question. It was our last dinner together and I had made sure I cooked something she loved, turn down the lights with the dimmer, bought her fave wine and put music in the background. But I was ruining it at the moment and it bothered me.

"I didn't know when I should tell you I just..." she sighed and looked up in my eyes, tilting her head. "I texted Dylan and I'm supposed to go for dinner with him tomorrow night, after you leave."

I put my fork back in my plate and frowned, pressing my lips together. "Should I worry?"

"No. But it's important that we have a good connection.. or at least that we don't hate each other." she explained with a shrug. "I want to know how he feels, and what he wants. I mean, I'm new to this business, but I want to make things right."

I reached for her hand and she looked up. I sent her a small smile and nodded. "Hey, I get it."

She licked her lips and squeezed my fingers, holding my hand and grabbing her glass with her other one. She took a sip and finally let go of my hand. It only took a minute until I felt her foot on my leg again and this time, the left corner of my lips moved up.

"You can't help it, can you?" I joked with a chuckle.

"Nop!" she replied with a smile. "I have to always touch you."

"What are you gonna do when I'll be away mm?"

This was meant as a joke but her smile fell and she shrugged. It suddenly made me think of all the nights I'd fall asleep without her, all the morning I wouldn't wake up holding her, all the meals I'd eat without her. I grimaced and shook my head.

"I keep ruining this evening over and over, don't I?"

"No, all your questions are legit." she just said in a soft tone, tilting her head on the side. "I don't know what I'll do when we'll be away. Hold my pillow against me and pretend it's you, perhaps."

"And when you're horny?" I asked with a smirk.

"Hump my pillow and pretend it's you." she replied quickly, making me laugh.

"I don't want to go." I let out in a whisper, making her raise her eyebrows. "I mean yea, I want to go out there and do music but, I can't stand to be away from you."

She stared at me with soft eyes and let out a chuckle but there was no amusement in her tone. It sounded more like sadness, or something that came close to nostalgia.

"It's true." I added, making her shake her head.

"No I know, I was just thinking... if you had never broken up with me, I would probably had followed you, you know? So we would be together. But at the same time, I'd still be that fragile, insecure person that depends on you and, I don't want that." she admitted with a small shrug. "I like who I've become, and I love my job. I don't want to be the kind of girlfriend who follows her boyfriend everywhere without having her own projects, her own life."

I held my breath and licked my lips. I knew what she meant, and I totally understood, but I didn't feel like I ever saw her as this dependent and fragile girl she was talking about. Was I just blind to it?

"I think you don't need someone who'll just follow you around. The times you were the most attracted to me were the times I didn't need you, the times I knew what I wanted, who I was and what I deserved. I mean, I know you love me because of who I am, but you were drawn to me more when I wasn't all over you."

No matter how hard I thought, I couldn't decide if she was right or wrong but if she was right, I really never did that on purpose, and I never even realized it.

"One time, when we were apart, I missed you so much and I couldn't handle it anymore. You had moved here, and I read on your web site that it was the premiere of your tv show." I admitted, shaking my head and looking down at my glass before quickly taking the last sip. "So I put clothes on, grabbed a cap, and went to the premiere."

I looked up only to see her frowning with her lips parted. I had all her attention and it made something stir in my stomach.

"I waited a few hours just to see you, and when I did, I just watched you pause for the cameras, flashes everywhere, and all that shit. You were with Dylan but I barely noticed him because you were literally glowing. I was seeing you happy. Very very happy. I remember trying to find a time where you were this happy with me. And I realized that you didn't need me anymore." I waited until she looked up in my eyes again to keep talking. "You've always been a strong and smart woman, but at that very specific moment, I knew I was not important anymore. You didn't need me, you didn't long for me anymore, and even if I tried to convince myself that you would always love me somehow, it was fucking tough."

There was a moment of a silence and she just pushed the air out of her lungs as a small smile appeared on her lips.

"That day I could swear I saw you, and... I thought I was hallucinating you. Black cap, white Nike shirt... I came to the conclusion that my mind was just playing tricks on me. I knew I was not over you but I was trying to move on and when I lost you in the crowd I decided you weren't really there." she chuckled again but her lips curled too. "It was really you."

"Yep, was me, i'm sorry."

She stared at me some more and slowly, her head tilted on the left and her lips curled more.

"You really never stopped loving me." she pointed out in a murmur, as if she was now realizing it, or believing it.

"Not a second, Olivia."

She teared up suddenly and I felt my heart break. I reached for her hands as she let tears fall down her cheeks. I didn't want this, I didn't want to make her cry, or hurt her, and here I was, doing exactly that. Again.

"I'm so sorry, Liv, please, I'm sorry." I repeated, my face twisting with pain. "Please, come here."

I pulled on her hands and she breathed in, getting up as I spread my legs to give her space. I felt the need to get her closer, to feel her body against mine and I just tapped my thigh, making her chuckle through her tears and shake her head.

"Sit down." I whispered, sending her a sad smile.

"No," she sniffed. "I'll crush you."

"Sit the fuck down."

She raised her eyebrows but her smile was still intact and she moved away to let me press my thighs together before sitting on me. One of her arms wrapped around my neck and she moved dangerously close, making my lips curl more. I could see every trait of her face, from the gold around her pupils to the little scar near her mouth from when we were kids and she fell off the stairs. She smelled amazing, the same mix of honey and vanilla I was used to, and I wrapped both my arms around her waist.

"Not too heavy?" she wondered, raising her eyebrows again and making me frown.

"Stop saying stupid things, will you?" I let out. "I know you gained weight, I know you hate it, and you need to know two things. First of, I love it. And second of, I'm a tank baby, you've never met a strong man like me."

This time, she started laughing, letting her head fall back as a long laughter boomed out of her open lips. Just watching her laugh made me happy and I let out a chuckle as I watched her. I pulled her closer and one of my hands ended on her thigh, making her look back at me.

"Be honest. Did you stop loving me, at some point?"

Her eyes roamed on my face and she moved closer again, kissing my upper lip very slowly. She was so soft and gentle all the time and I missed that in my life. I missed her touch and how tender and loving she was, especially with me. When she was not in my life anymore, all I could think about was that I missed her, but I also missed everything she did, everything she said, everything she was. It's the little things I missed the most and those things, she was giving them back to me. Slowly, and by little waves, but I was still getting samples from time to time. I was greedy, though, I wanted all of them, and right now, but I would wait for her. A lifetime or two, no doubt. Maybe even three.

"I hated you." she admitted in a murmur, her lips brushing against mine. I felt my heart shatter and swallowed a lump in my throat. "I hated you, I cursed you, I wished you wrong. I complained about you, I bitched about you, I cried and yelled about you."

I blinked a few times, trying to keep my emotions in. Even if I couldn't blame her, it felt like someone had stuck a knife in my stomach and was twisting it with each of her words. I kept quiet. I couldn't talk anyway, and she kept going.

"But not one second, I stopped loving you." she whispered, bringing her hand to my cheek and running her fingertips on my stubble before slipping them in my hair. "I've been in love with you for 20 years, Niall. I think after all this time, falling out of love is impossible. There's a point you reach that you just know, deep inside, that the love you feel is there to stay. I've reached that point. A long time ago."

"But you hated me." I argued in a breath before she sighed.

"Trust me, it's possible to hate and love someone at the same time. I hated you because I loved you so much."

I didn't even know if it made sense but I just nodded.

"I don't hate you now, Niall. I feel many many things for you but nothing negative, I promise."

She kissed my lips again and tugged at my hair very gently as her mouth traveled on my lips and jaw. I remained motionless, my hand burning on her thigh while she showed me affection, and with the way her hands and lips moved on me, I knew she was not lying. There was something special and unique in the softness of her touch that talked louder than a voice could, that explained better than words would.

It took me a few minutes to react but a bit roughly, I brought my hands to cup her face and kissed her harder. Her lips parted more to deepen the kiss and I moved closer to her, my hands now running on her back and her arms before I let one of my hands slip under her shirt. I wanted her so bad and it was so sudden that I could feel my whole body throb.

"I'm gonna miss you so fucking much, petal." I admitted low, allowing my lips to leave her briefly before crushing my mouth on hers again. "Let me make love to you, yea?"

I got up, making her do the same, and grabbed her waist, turning her around and pressing her against the windows behind her. I let my mouth move avidly to her neck as I started breathing harder. She took her shirt off and I did the same with mine, throwing it away before pressing my body against hers. One of her hands reached for my cock and she grabbed it over my pants as my lips moved to her breasts. I moved her straps down and pulled on her bra to expose her nipples and my lips wrapped around one immediately. I sucked on it, making her whimper low and finally let my mouth brush down to her stomach until I reached her pants, unzipping them quickly and helping her take them off. She stood there, only in her underwear, and I pulled the side of her panties away to press my lips against her pussy.

"Oh my god."

I grabbed one of her legs and moved it up, putting it on my back to hold it, and spread her lips more before slipping my tongue down on her slit until it was inside her and bringing it back up to her clit. I sucked on it for a while and felt her fingers pull on my hair. I got the hint and moved back up, unzipping my pants too and getting undressed as she stared at me, lips parted. I moved closer to her, feeling my dick rub on her thighs and she moved her leg around me again. I ground my hips against her a few times and when I felt my tip slip inside her, I let out a short groan.

"I want to make love to you, not fuck you for 5 stupid minutes and cum."

She laughed and smiled as I looked at her. She tilted her chin up to look in my eyes better and I searched for her hands, grabbing them and bringing them on the walls, on each sides of her head. She held them there and I slid my fingertips on the inside of her arms before reaching her palms and intertwining out fingers together. I pushed myself a bit deeper inside of her and she let out a low whimper, her eyes never leaving mine.

"I love you so much." I whispered. "I promise you'll never have to hate me. Ever again."

She nodded quickly and bit her bottom lip. "Okay."

I pushed myself completely inside her and felt my eyes flutter at the feeling.

"You feel incredible."

I brought my face closer and started thrusting in and out of her slowly but at a regular pace. My lips brushed against hers with every jerk and I didn't let go of her fingers. I felt her squeeze my hands harder and from time to time, she'd kiss my lips as I moved, or would let out a low moan.

"I love you. I love you, Olivia."

Her face twisted and I could swear she was about to cry. I pushed my body against hers more and kissed her lips a few times before kissing her deeper but still very slow. I didn't want her to cry, I wanted her to cum.

"N-Niall." she breathed out before I pulled away slightly and saw her shut her eyes tight. "Oh my god, I'm cum-"

She couldn't finish her sentence and started shaking between me and the window. I kept moving in and out of her but watching her get an orgasm made me reach mine and I leaned my forehead against hers as I came inside her, squeezing her hands maybe a bit too tight.

We were both a panting mess when we were done but we still remained motionless, our bodies pressed together, my forehead leaning against hers and our fingers intertwined on each side of her head.

"I love you too, Niall."

I smiled at her words and finally moved away and told her I'd be right back. When I got out of the bathroom, I had put sweatpants on and she was now wearing my shirt along with her panties, which I believed was her best outfit. The music was still playing in the living room and I extended my hand to her and raised my eyebrows.

"You wanna dance?"

"Here?" she smiled. "In your living room?"

I didn't answer but she just licked her lips and put her hand in mine. I made her twirl around and she giggled before I pulled her closer the same way I had at the wedding but for some obvious reason, it felt way more intimate. She leaned her head on my shoulder and it made me suddenly very happy.

I had found a radio station that only played music from the 90's and I knew it would make her happy. A slow song started and she chuckled as I pulled her closer.

"I love that song."

It took me a few seconds to remember that it was a Savage Garden song and when the lyrics said 'I love you more with every breath' I felt her lips on my neck, brushing up to my ear.

"I love you, Niall." she repeated. "I wish you wouldn't have to leave."

"Me too, petal, me too."

---

The next day, we were both numb and sad and we did everything mechanically, stealing a few kisses from time to time as we walked by each other while getting prepared. I wanted her to come with me to the airport but I knew she wouldn't and I didn't insist. My bags were out of the wardrobe and were now waiting for me near the door, taunting me and making my heart break every single time I saw them.

"Okay, you got your passport?" she asked, standing in front of me.

I nodded and she did the same.

"Phone? Both of them?"

"Yea, I do."

She stared at me with teary eyes but still managed to send me a smile. I breathed in and out loudly and was about to pull her close in a hug when she reached for her ear, making me frown. She took one of her earrings off and handed it to me, her head tilting on the right. I remained motionless and she raised her eyebrows, moving her hand a bit closer to me.

"You still got your ear pierced, right?"

"It's your grandma's, I can't accept it I mean, what If I lose it?"

"Then don't lose it." she just argued, taking a step closer to me before putting it in my ear and locking it.

I closed my eyes and breathed her perfume in. When she was done, I wrapped my arm around her waist and kept her close to me.

"Thank you." I whispered, burring my face in her neck.

"Every time you see it, you promise you'll think about me?" she asked, gripping the front of my shirt in her fist.

"I promise. But I'll already be thinking about you." I pointed out, making her chuckle low.

She pulled away after a while and her smile grew when she saw it on my ear. "Now we match!" she giggled this time, making me laugh a bit and shake my head.

"You’re ridiculously perfect." I pointed out, pulling her closer again and wrapping my arms around her neck this time. Her arms slithered around my waist and I kissed her head, squeezing her tight against me.

"Oh! I have something else for you!"

She got out of my embrace and rushed to the room as I shook my head. It was totally her kind to forget about something she wanted to give me until last minute and it was almost a miracle that she didn't completely forget about it. She came back, jogging to me, and handed me a box. I frowned and looked up at her only to see her biting her bottom lip, eyebrows raised.

"What it is?"

"Short letters." she explained, licking her lips nervously. "I wrote one for every show you have. The name of the place and the date is written on each envelop. You can not open them before. You have to open each envelop right before you go on stage for every show. Not 30 minutes before, not in-between two songs or later when you're at your hotel. You get your guitar, open the letter, read it, and then immediately go on stage. You think you can do that?"

I pushed the air out of my lungs as my lips curled but remained parted. I opened the box only to see a bunch of envelops of different colors waiting for me inside and when I looked up, she was smiling wide, probably because of my reaction.

"That's... fuck, Liv." I let out, impressed. "That's a great idea and you know what? I'm gonna film myself opening every single one of them so you know I did it right before going on stage. I'll answer your messages in videos and send them to you."

Her face illuminated and she jumped slightly, making me laugh.

"How about we make a private instagram? We can both add things there? Share a password? And make it private, of course."

I made her an amused face and laughed. "Oh, look who loves social medias all of a sudden!"

She shrugged and I could swear her cheeks turned a soft shade of pink. "It's just for you and me, no one else. I mean, think of all the things we can post."

"Pretty sure nudity is not tolerated." I joked, making her raise her nose up in a cute grimace.

"Don't worry, I'll send you nudes directly in your text messages."

I moved my eyebrows and smirked, bringing my mouth on hers. "Mm, I really hope so."

We kissed gently and slowly for a while, as if it could push back my departure, and when we stopped, she kept her lips against mine and sighed.

"I'm in love with you, Niall. I'll miss you."

"I'm in love with you too, petal. I'll miss you more."

We sighed and I held her hand as we pulled away and took a step back until I was almost out of reach. She moved her upper body forward to keep holding my hand but when her fingers slipped out of mine, I saw her tear up and sniff. It was so hard to see that I just grabbed my stuff and turned around, walking out until I heard her voice again.

"Niall! Wait!"

I turned to look at her and she was crying. It broke my heart and I swallowed hard.

"Say it again. Please say it one last time before you leave."

I felt my heart break in my chest and dropped all the bags, rushing back to her and cupping her face to kiss her hard and intensely. She answered the kiss and moaned in my mouth.

"I'm in love with you." I whispered. "I'm so fucking in love with you."

#niall horan #niall horan fluff #niall horan smut #niall horan story #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fan fic #niall horan fan fiction #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan writing #my fanfics #yam #if you still read and comment and reblog thank you ily!<

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lauras-collection · 5 years ago

Note

Angst 24 maybe with a happy ending? 😙 you're my favourite writer

Thank you so much!! 🥰🥺❤️

This is significantly longer that every blurb I’ve written so far, so I hope you like it 😄😁

(1.4k words😅)

Prompt:

24. “Maybe you’ll find what you really wanted.”

You ripped open a bag of crisps and emptied it into a bowl. You were ready for a night in. It had been a hectic week and you just wanted to cuddle up with Tom and watch a movie. You throw the empty bag into the bin under the sink before carrying the bowl and two glasses into the living room. You placed everything on the coffee table and turned on the tv. When you were scrolling through the movies you heard Tom leaving the bathroom. He’d be with you in a few moments and you couldn’t wait for him to wrap his arms around you.

But when you saw him walk past the living room putting on his jacket your heart sank into your stomach. You got up from the couch and walked over to the doorway, leaning against it as you watched him put his shoes on.

“Where are you going?”

“Out to the pub with the lads.” He said not even looking up at you. He’d been back from filming for two days now, and he had spent every evening with them. You didn’t mind. You had been exhausted from work anyway. But you were off tomorrow and thought that he’d want to spend the evening with you as well.

“Oh,” You let out. “I thought we were gonna stay in.” You were a little disappointed that he hadn’t even told you he was planning to go out tonight.

“Yeah, no.” He was done tying his shoes and now he was finally looking at you. He noticed the disappointed look on your face and rolled his eyes.

“What?” You asked. What was his problem?

“I don’t wanna hang around the flat the whole time when I’m home, ‘s all." He shrugged his shoulders. He could've said he didn't want to spend the whole time with you when he was home, that would've hurt just as much.

“I’m not saying you have to stay at home with me the whole time. But you’ve been out every night since you’ve been back and I’ve had a stressful week and-“

“Yeah, well I’ve had a stressful month. And I don’t need you to get on my case about going out with my mates now. I just wanna spend some time with them, is that too much to ask?”

“No, Tom. It’s not. It would’ve been nice if you told me about it, though.”

“I don’t owe you any explanation.” He almost spat and you were taken aback. You’ve had enough.

“What is going on with you, Tom? I just wanted to spend some time with my boyfriend but you’re obviously not very keen on spending time with me recently, so, by all means, go out tonight. I won’t stop you. Maybe you’ll find what you really wanted.”

“What’s that supposed to mean now?” He scrunched his eyebrows together and now it was your turn to roll your eyes.

“You gotta figure that out on your own. Enjoy your night.” With that, you closed the living room door behind you and curled up on the couch. You were hoping that he’d come after you, but all you heard was the front door slamming shut. You didn’t feel like watching a movie anymore so you turned off the tv and made your way to the bedroom. It was still early in the night, and you were sure you wouldn’t be able to fall asleep with the confrontation with Tom replaying in your head. But you tried anyway.

Meanwhile, Tom was meeting up with Harrison and Tuwaine. Both boys realised that something was wrong with their friend and upon asking him about it Tom just shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t know. Y/N’s been nagging me about staying in with her.”

“Can’t really blame her though, can you?” Harrison questioned and Tom looked at him in confusion.

“Yeah, you’ve been spending every night with us. Don’t you think she wants to spend time with you, too? She’s your girlfriend, mate. You should be all over her when you’re home.” Tuwaine explained and it was silent for a moment until Harrison spoke up again.

“Unless...unless there’s someone else?” He carefully asked. Tom was his best friend and he would never think him to be a cheater. But Tom’s behaviour was off.

Your words played back in Tom’s head. ‘Maybe you’ll find what you really wanted.’ You’d said. Were you thinking he was cheating on you? Even his best friend apparently wouldn’t put it past him.

“What? No, no of course not. I love Y/N.” Tom was quick to shut down Harrisons worries.

“When was the last time you told her that?” Tom honestly couldn’t really remember. He ran his hands over his head and rubbed his eyes.

“I don’t...I don’t know.” Tuwaine slapped the back of Tom’s head for that. “I’ve just been so stressed with all these conventions and preparing for Cherry...”

“Yeah but so is she.” Harrison looked at Tom intently. “You’re not the only one with a stressful job. The last time I saw her she told me that she’d have a major project at work the week you’d come home from filming. She was so excited for you to come home, Tom.”

“Fuck.” Tom exclaimed and let his head fall on the table in front of him. “Fuck, I need to go home and make things right with her.”

“That, my friend, is the smarted thing you’ve said all evening.” Tuwaine clapped his friend on the shoulder before Tom slipped back into his jacket.

“You should try and get some flowers or something. Maybe some store’s still open.” Harrison suggested and Tom quickly nodded.

“Good call. Thanks, guys.” and with that, he got out of the pub as quickly as possible.

When you heard the front door open you still hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep. You thought that you must’ve been laying in bed for hours. But with a glance on your phone, you realised that it had only been just over an hour. The bedroom door slowly opened and you closed your eyes pretending to be asleep. You couldn’t deceive Tom though, your breathing was way too irregular. Tom shuffled over to your side of the bed and kneeled down so he was eye level with you.

“C’mon love, I know you’re not asleep.” His voice was barely above a whisper and if your ears weren’t playing tricks on you it sounded a little broken. You slowly opened your eyes and there he was before you. Kneeling and a sad-looking bouquet of flowers in his hands.

“I’m sorry, darling.” He placed the flowers on your nightstand and crawled a little closer looking into your eyes. “I’m sorry I’ve been such an arse since coming home. I’ve been so on edge lately... I just... I couldn’t really relax. When I had a quiet moment for myself I just kept thinking about all the stuff that happened these past few weeks, trying to process that and also what’s still to come. I just needed a distraction from all of it. And I didn’t realise that I was pushing you away and brushing you off in the process. I’m so sorry. I love you. I love you so much, darling.” The tears were now free-falling, on both yours and Tom’s cheeks. You reached your hands out for him and he took them, placing a kiss on each of them.

“C’mere.” You whispered and pulled on his hands lightly, making him move his face closer to yours.

“And I love you, Tom. You know you can talk to me about this stuff right?” You questioned and he nodded.

“Yeah, I know. I don’t know why I didn’t... Can you forgive me?” He asked with those puppy dog eyes and a small smile appeared on your face.

“How can I say no when you bring me flowers.” You look at the half-dead flowers on the nightstand and Tom lets out a laugh. “But if that happens again I won’t let you get off this easily.” Your tone was playful but you both knew that you were being serious.

“Of course.” Tom nodded and you removed one of your hands from his to place it on the side of his face. You placed a soft kiss on his lips.

“And now get in bed mister. You owe me cuddles.” Tom smiled widely at your words and playfully saluted you.

“Yes, Ma’am.” he quickly rid himself of his jeans and shirt before crawling into his side of the bed, pulling you close to his chest. He buried his face into the crook of your neck as your legs tangled with his.

“We’re gonna stay in bed all day tomorrow. What do you think about that?” He asked as he trailed kisses up your neck.

“I’d love that.”

Masterlist

#lauras200followercelebration #tom holland x reader #tom holland blurb #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic #tom holland scenario #blurbs #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff

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monstrous-femme · 4 years ago

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C + Student

Written for @mcuthere for the prompt: Maybe Paxton asks Devi to help him study for a test in their shared history class and Paxton opens up to Devi about his insecurity of people assuming he’s dumb

Read it here or on ao3.

The halls are full of noise. Football players shoving each other and landing in lockers, couples talking slightly louder than normal people ever talked (what, did they think they were on reality TV or something? There’s no hidden cameras,) and most of all, the noise that stomped its way through his brain the harder he tried not to think about the crumpled essay at the bottom of his bag.

not good enough not good enough not good enough not good enough not

and it’s almost midterms and last time he tried to take a test his mind had frozen up, his hands had sweat through the page like they never did before a swim meet, did teachers mark down for sweat marks on the paper, did they notice his lips moving as he read the questions to himself over and over

Paxton Hall-Yoshida needs a fucking miracle, which was why he’s forcing himself to move, down the racket of the hallway, (and really, did high schoolers need to be this loud?), wondering if there was any good way to tell a girl you were mad at that she was your only hope if you didn’t want to retake sophomore history a third time.

“Hey,” he says when he reaches her. His voice is so quiet that he doesn’t know if she can hear him over the din.

But Devi, of course, looks up. She smiles hesitantly. “Hey! I’m so glad you’re talking to me. I thought you were mad at me. For lying. About us, having—”

Paxton really, really does want to go over this all again. “I’ve thought of a way you can make it up to me.”

“Oh?”

He’s not trying to take advantage. He knows she has a crush on him, but he also knows that she’s brave, the kind of whirlpool of a girl who can proposition a boy for sex or talk to a coyote like it’s her dad. And he knows she’s loyal, and loves the people in her life, but most of all, what Paxton knows about Devi Vishwakumar is that when they turned in that project a few weeks ago, he and Trent had gotten by with B minuses and a suspicious glance from Mr. Shapiro. Devi had gotten an A and a little note from their teacher saying they knew she’d done most of the work.

(He hadn’t meant to peek. He just couldn’t imagine Devi Vishwakumar getting a B minus.)

“I need your help studying for our history midterm.”

A favor that would have made any of his other friends laugh in his face, and here she is, beaming at him like he just brought her a dozen fucking roses, and he knows she idolizes him, but he really needs to pass this class.

“I’ll meet you at your house after school,” she promises. “We won’t stop studying until you’re perfect to go. A+. I promise.”

Paxton tries to smile, but the pounding in his head is getting worse. “I’ll give you a ride,” he offers. “I’m skipping practice to study. We can go right after school.”

“Even better.”

The words in this textbook are too tiny and the section on Japanese internment uses misleading language to imply that it was voluntary. It wasn’t. Paxton might not be great at school, but he always listens when his grandpa talks to him, so he knows about his time in Manzanar, which the textbook misspells as Mazanar.

“So, if you write down three important things from every page, it’ll help your brain anchor itself so you can remember more of what’s on here. Sort of like a mind map. Detail one and detail two will help you remember what connects them. That way you don’t have to write down every single thing.”

Paxton nods, only half listening. The D- in his backpack is still weighing on him, and he doesn’t see how writing down three details from each page will do him any good when he wrote down every detail for the last test and still only scraped by with a C.

“Paxton?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you listening?”

“Not really, sorry, I just hate this stuff.” He tries to pass it off with a shrug, but he’s not sure it looks casual. Makes sense. He’s not feeling very casual right now.

“What stuff?”

“Tests.”

“Why?”

Paxton sighs. “I don’t know. I freeze up, and then I read the questions wrong, and I can hear everyone else writing while I’m still trying to understand what the hell I’m looking at.”

Devi’s nose scrunches up like it does when she’s confused. “Do you want to be good at school?”

“Um, yeah?”

“Why?”

“Why wouldn’t I? You know, my mom has a PHD in philosophy and my dad writes these crazy, like, sci-fi stories that I don’t understand at all.”

“But you don’t have to be smart. You’re hot and popular.”

He groans. “Devi, don’t do that.”

“What? What am I doing?”

“That thing where you refuse to notice that I’m a person because I have qualities that you specifically are interested in.”

“Everyone’s interested in being hot and popular.”

“Is that why you told the whole school you were having sex with me?”

“Technically I just told them when we were going to have sex and didn’t tell them it didn’t happen. Anyway, you said that this would be a way I could make it up to you.”

Paxton looks at her levelly. “But is that why you told them?”

Devi hesitates. “Because you’re hot and popular?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe.”

“That’s what I thought.”

She looks down for a moment, and this isn’t what he wanted, he wasn’t trying to dampen her spark, he’s just sick of everybody needing him for all the wrong things. All he wants to do is get into a pool and swim until his calves burn. Swimming makes sense. Taking care of his friends makes sense. Being popular makes enough sense, because there are rules to follow.

But none of the rules should involve making someone as vibrant as Devi Vishwakumar look this sad.

“Maybe this was a bad idea.”

Devi shakes her head. “No. I’m just thinking about—something my dad taught me. He said he wasn’t good at tests either, so he taught me all these tricks—maybe that’s what you need.”

“What kind of tricks?”

She stretches out her legs, shoving the textbooks off to the side. “Have you ever read through a test and realized that one question has the answer for another one in it?”

“Um, no.”

“Well, it happens. And Mr. Shapiro is the kind of teacher who does that a lot, so you could start by reading through the whole test at the beginning and see what clues he gives you. And my dad had this whole thing about gum—he said if you chew gum while you study and chew the same gum while you take the test, it’ll help you do better.”

“I don’t think Mr. Shapiro will let me have gum in class.”

“He has to if you have a learning disability. Do you think you might be dyslexic? It’d be easy to find out and that might be why you have trouble reading quickly.”

Paxton nods. “Okay,” he said. “Tell me more of these tricks. Maybe this’ll actually help.”

He listens as well as he can, but his mind keeps drifting to Devi’s smile. He’s never heard her talk about her dad, except after the coyote attack. Her eyes grow soft, even as she’s explaining to him about how to phrase an answer to hide the parts you don’t know. She talks for a good forty-five minutes, and he doesn’t interrupt. Maybe he’ll get through a test for once, and maybe he won’t, but either way, he’ll be glad he got to see her like this.

“Do you think that’ll help?” she asks finally.

Paxton shakes himself back to reality. “Honestly? I don’t know. But if it works for Devi Vishwakumar, I’ll give it a try.”

“So do you forgive me for telling everyone—you know?” Her fingers twitch nervously in her lap.

“I do. Honestly, I might even owe you one at this point.”

“I take Venmo and Cashapp.”

Paxton laughes, and then, for the first time he can remember, Paxton Hall-Yoshida does something that isn’t in the rulebook.

“How about this?” he says, and leans in.

The kiss burns through him, the way Devi’s energy burns through everything. Paxton’s stomach drops like he’s thirteen fucking years old and being kissed for the first time. Only Devi’s lips are much softer, even as she moves in closer to bite his lower lip, and Devi’s hands are firmer, fingers gliding into his hair and holding him in place. He forgets to breath, but his hands have moved to her waist, and now he’s the one pulling her closer.

And then, it’s over. And it’s just a moment. He could walk it back, like he’s done before with girls at parties who want more than he can give.

“There,” he says. “Now you can tell the whole school you’ve kissed Paxton Hall-Yoshida, and you won’t be lying.”

Devi’s mouth sharpens. “I’m not going to do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” she says, and there’s that fierceness of hers, that same energy she’d had when she propositioned him that first time he noticed her, the same energy she won battles with in the classroom. “You were right. I need to treat you like a person. Especially if I want this to happen again.”

Paxton’s face feels warm. “Do you want it to happen again?”

“If you do. If you can—I don’t know, trust me or whatever.”

He nods. “I’ll, um, let you know.”

Devi kisses him on the cheek, then gathers her textbook and notes into her backpack. “Knock ‘em dead tomorrow.”

“What?”

“The test?”

“Right. Yeah, of course.” Paxton stands to get the door for her. “Thanks again.”

“Any time.”

It sounds like she means it.

The next week, Paxton’s test comes back with a C plus.

He couldn’t be happier about it.

#nhie #never have i ever #devi vishwakumar #paxton hall yoshida #devi x paxton #my fic #my writing

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creatingnikki · 5 years ago

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Dearest Tavleen,

I think the fact that you don’t like onions is actually an interesting one and that you should stick with it when people ask you to state some random facts about you! I do think it’s interesting because I too have never come across someone who doesn’t like onions and I definitely love them. The fact that I love onions is material because I don’t actually love or even eat most of the conventional vegetables found in an Indian home.

I have never tasted karela (bitter gourd) or baingan (brinjal) in my life – and I don’t plan to. Bhindi (ladyfinger) is also something I have only tasted twice in my life – once at each work place of mine because my co-workers couldn’t believe it and peer pressured me into tasting it. Everyone at work finds it very amusing to hear about my relationship with vegetables. I won’t say it’s unhealthy because I do enjoy vegetables such as cabbage (love!), broccoli, white onions, all colour capsicums, asparagus, basil, kale, etc. Oh but I despise tomato! I just can’t stand it. So, I guess what I’m trying to say is that yours is a fun fact you should definitely stick with.

You said ‘I genuinely enjoy knowing what people do’ and I know you do haha because I have sent you countless long voice notes explaining stuff about my office and what I’m working on. I don’t think people are usually interested so in knowing what kind of work others do – like they care about knowing their job title, the company and how much they earn – but actually wanting to know what is it that they really do, yeah I don’t think so. See, because of that and so much more, I have always told you how you strike me as such a smart, mature and prudent 19 year old.

(Guys, go send her an ask telling her about the work you do. She actually cares so you can get into all the details or just tell her some random facts.)

At 19, I couldn’t care less about what people were doing – even though I had no idea what decisions I was going to make career-wise. I would spend all my time watching Kdrama, writing poetry and sleeping. And I didn’t feel one bit guilty so that’s really saying something – I wish I could get back some of that easy-going attitude that the younger me had.

Also, the fact that you started your brilliant book blog – Travelling Through Words – in school (10th grade I think?) just further goes to prove my point. Can you guess what I was doing in 10th? Watching tv shows, indulging with idiots and breaking my own heart. I was such a smarty ;) But you know it’s not even about how productive you always have been – I think that’s a dangerous metric to respect of love someone, including your self – it’s about the things you say and the things you understand. It blows me away and it comforts me at the same time. So, for that I have to say thank you. I have another thing I must thank you for – for getting me to finally start The Love Project this year. If it wasn’t for you it would continue to be an idea in my head. Thank you for always pushing me to do the things that are right for me. I think you have a high opinion of me (or am I just making an ass of myself by assuming that? Haha) and I think sometimes I try to do the right thing to be that person that you think I am. I think I want to be that person too – more of her anyway.

About saying I love you and it coming more easily to you when you were younger…I relate to that and I don’t know if you feel the same way about it as I do right now. But for me I really don’t know what love is or who I love – other than my family and like a few friends, you being one of them. Btw, I love you too, Tavleen <3 I also think I want to show my care and affection to people more through actions and want them to do the same so it just doesn’t feel necessary to me as much. Also, I think love is something I’m more clear about or at least selective in a way. Like I understand now that I can have a good time with a friend and care about them but not necessarily love them. Does that make sense? What I mean is that affection and consideration and fun is all good but it doesn’t have to be love. And that’s okay. I think despite all my confusion for love, I think the one test in my mind is – would I die for the person I love if such a situation ever arose? And if I don’t even have to think for a second before saying yes, then yes, I love them. And as I said, I love you.

About the last time you felt your heart completely shatter…I can understand that. It’s weird but I remember being obsessed with Grey’s Anatomy and I had decided that I want to be a neurosurgeon. So once my 10th boards were done and I had to pick a stream – commerce, arts or science – I told my father that I’d pick science and go to med school post 12th grade and he said, ‘Don’t be stupid. Pick commerce. You are very smart but you won’t work that hard and you know it’.

As much as it hurt at that point, he was right. After taking commerce I realized that it’s the perfect stream for all those who are smart but don’t want to work hard. And hence, I think it wouldn’t have been the right stream for you anyway. You’re a hardworking kid who is very smart. It may have not gone as you planned or wanted but somehow life has a way of bringing us to exactly where we fit/belong. Be it place, people or career. Sometimes it’s hard to believe that or keep faith but I still do because like can you imagine me being a med student studying multiple hours every day for 5-8 years? Lol, I can’t so I have faith in the fact that the universe is looking out for us.

As for the last time or the times you felt loved, I feel happy that I could play a part in that. And that you have other people to do that too. I think there’s a trick with the little things and them mattering. It strikes me as a business concept. So two very basic ways that a business can make money is by – first, having a great profit margin. That means their cost to create something is a lot less than what they are selling for. Or second, even if they have low profit margins to have great sales and sell such huge quantities that it makes them money. I think with the little things to really matter we need to have many of them. I may be wrong but it just strikes me as that. And of course a lot of that does depend on the people in our life but I think a more powerful chunk lies in our hands. I think it’s building systems that bring us joy. Whether that’s being mindful and reducing screen time, reading more or building coping mechanisms, I think we just have to be intentional about our well-being and joy.

Of course I have a lot more to say to you – surprise, surprise – but this won’t be my last letter to you. The first quarter of 2020 will be over soon but we have 3 more. And we have each other. And I think we will be okay.

Love Always, Nikki

PS Expect something to reach you soon ;)

I wrote this letter for Tavleen based on some questions she answered (and I also know her personally. She is a dear, dear friend). You can check the questions and her answers here.

You can check the other love letters I have written over here.

#the love project #29 days of love letters #letter 26 #love letters #february 2020 #growing up #making decisions #life #creatingnikki

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zobot257 · 4 years ago

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Propagana Callout: Tucker Carlson

Today I need to talk to anyone reading this about a matter of utmost seriousness: Propaganda.

Propaganda is something that I, as a writer, utterly despise. It's misleading, misinforming, blatantly biased sources of information meant to brainwash rather than to foster thought and further investigation. And it is all around us in this current election. More than ever we have an obligation to do research and investigate things ourselves, to stay properly informed.

I'm going to do something here, which is to show a written work I feel is very much Propaganda, and then explain how it uses fallacy, melodrama, and deception to mislead you. The piece I'm using as an example is linked below:

https://www.foxnews.com/opinion/tucker-carlson-2020-election-biden-win-age-of-oligarcy

Please NOTE I'm picking this because it's an easy, obvious target, not because it's "conservative" or "liberal" or anything like that. Propaganda exists on both sides here, and in the modern age it's often harder to spot. If you want me to evaluate something from like CNN or some other obviously liberal news source as a counterpoint to this, feel free to suggest it.

With that in mind, let's begin.

Now, there's a number of things propaganda-laden about this piece. First of all, keep in mind that this is an OPINION piece. Opinion pieces are not subject to as rigid guidelines as anything intended to be presented as ACTUAL journalism. While you still can't say things to say, incite a riot, you can get away with a lot more than you could in a proper newspaper article that's meant to be an authoritarian source as long as you clearly label that it's only your opinion. So that means it's safe, right?

That's the thing here, it isn't.

The fact that it’s from Tucker Carlson, noted TV personality, gives it a sense of significance and weight (if only virtually) than an opinion piece written by any other John Doe. As much as I dislike the man, there are people who trust him and will take his word because of who he is and what he does. Because he's a person in the public eye who is supposed to report the news. So there are people who will read this and believe it wholeheartedly despite it being labeled an opinion piece, and also despite it not really giving any PROOF for his assertions. In fact that lack of any proof for his assertions, no citing of sources or indicators of what he’s saying beyond the article itself, is the first thing I’d say that flags it as propaganda for me. If you make a statement in a political arena you'd better be prepared to back it up. But the fact that it's an Opinion piece frees him from having to cite sources, while still banking on his name and fame to make it SEEM more authoritative than it really is.

Now let’s dissect some of his statements:

“We have no clue what Joe Biden actually thinks, or even if he's capable of thinking. He hasn't told us and no one's made him tell us for a full year.”

Joe Biden has literally gone the whole year campaigning on a platform. I can cite debates he’s participated in, things he’s vowed to do, and speeches he’s made. But Tucker Carlson implies he’s not “capable of thinking” and that “we have no clue what Joe Biden actually thinks”. The Bible says that “by their fruits shall we know them”. It’s pretty easy to see what Joe Biden is thinking by what he says and his history of actions, and he’s a public figure so those things are not mystified or hidden.

But Tucker Carlson in saying that sentence creates an illusion, without any proof, that Joe Biden has hidden motives, an agenda beyond his actions... or, and this is probably what he’s angling for, NO agenda at all, because he’s implied by the rest of the piece to be a shell of a man controlled by corporate interests.

(This is off-topic, but I’ll point out that Donald Trump is the first president to publicly own his own businesses and openly used his political status to PROFIT his own businesses, which I can cite a NUMBER of sources for. Ethics professors and safeguard monitors in and out of Washington DC have rang alarm bells about that being a dangerous conflict-of-interest.)

“What remains is a projection of sorts, a hologram designed to mimic the behavior of a non-threatening political candidate: "Relax, Joe Biden's here. He smiles a lot. Everything's fine." That's the message from the vapor candidate.”

This is another statement showing how Propaganda it is. It’s subtly condescending, while at the same time not condescending towards the people likely to READ it. Instead, it’s implying that “the other side”, those who support Biden for any reason, are easily manipulated and just want to feel safe. So anyone reading it who is on “the correct side” will generally feel reassured they made the right decision. They’re not easily tricked or suckered by ‘the vapor candidate”.

Another way you can tell it’s Propaganda is that it’s using mockery and derision for people who don’t fit their mold.

Propaganda uses Emotional Artifice to manipulate. It’s designed to make you Feel and Care without making you THINK. You can read this whole article without ever having to seriously question what it’s about. You don’t have to, but it’s designed to not be challenging.

Anyway, moving on, let's see the next thing Tucker Carlson says.

“Well, the first thing you should know is that the people behind Joe Biden aren't liberals. We've often incorrectly called them that. A liberal believes in the right of all Americans to speak freely, to make a living, to worship their God, to defend their own families, and to do all of that regardless of what political party they belong to or what race they happen to be born into or how far from midtown Manhattan they currently live.”

Another point that’s pretty Propaganda is this one right here. Defining terms without any basis for how they’re doing it. How does any reader KNOW this is “what a liberal is”, outside Tucker Carlson defining it? They may have outside knowledge, but that's never a guarantee. By setting up his definition for the reader, Tucker Carlson is setting up rules for how the rest of the article will go, while steering the reader towards his desired point of view.

While that in and of itself is not only a tactic used by Propaganda, it’s bad in this specific instance because of the end goal; which is to define a group without any input from the actual group itself. Think “The Noble Savage” being used to describe Native Americans as “those misguided creatures who only need the light of God to start Living and Acting Right" in earlier historical times. Creating an image of a people group without actually KNOWING the people group in question or accurately reflecting them.

Again, if Tucker Carlson gave any basis or rationale for his claims, it might not be Propaganda. But because he doesn’t, because he expects his word to exist only on it’s own in this article, then the article is the only thing he expects you to read, and to evaluate it on it’s own merits. That makes it Propaganda.

Writing to persuade is not a bad thing. Persuading people using manipulative and disingenuous statements IS.

Next point!

“A liberal believes in universal principles, fairly applied. And the funny thing is, all of that describes most of the 70 million people who just voted for Donald Trump this week.”

In the paragraph preceding this one, Tucker Carlson went on to define a Liberal as something fairly mild and inoffensive. Someone you could probably be friends with, right? Now he’s going on to explain how the people who voted for Biden are in fact NOT liberals, and how the TRUE liberals are all the Trump voters. See, if you’re reading this article, you’re clearly the ones who are mild and inoffensive. You haven’t done anything wrong, you’re the "good guys".

It’s an emotional appeal, and one done in bad faith as manipulative. A trap designed to flatter and comfort people without making them question the validity of what he’s doing. This is the sort of thing salespeople do to upsell customers. By convincing them that the more expensive product is the "smart buy".

“They have no interest in silencing the opposition on Facebook or anywhere else”

Take my words with a grain of salt. I’d rather you THINK about it and evaluate what I say rather than just believe me. But I will say in my personal experience alone this sentence does not describe people who voted for Trump OR Biden, and may be the most false statement Tucker Carlson puts into his whole piece here. EVERYONE uses Facebook for politics these days. I'm starting to get sick of it, and the fact that I've done it too is hypocrisy I need to tamp down.

Anyway, next bit of the opinion article to analyze:

“What you do know for certain is that the people behind Joe Biden are not like that at all. They don't believe in dissent. "You think one thing? I think another. That's OK." No, that's not them at all. They demand obedience to diversity, which is to say, legitimate differences between people is the last thing they want.”

Another good example of Propaganda is how it attacks others and wildly caricaturizes them. You see this in old war propaganda all the time. Look at how “the bad guys” are depicted in some of these old superman comic covers for a visual example:

https://sites.google.com/site/worldwar2comicbookpropaganda/home/superman

As much as I hate to defend Nazis in ANY context, at ALL, the “good guy” is obvious in these visual bits of art. The “bad guy” is drawn as a caricature that looks fairly ugly in a shriveled way more often than not, playing up racial stereotypes and looking unfortunate or angry, while the “good guy” looks generally happy and serene or at least stereotypically handsome to look at. Tucker Carlson is doing the same exact thing here, but with words instead of pictures. Demonizing “the other side” while explaining to his intended audience, his “side”, how they’re the sane and good ones. The "other side" is going to silence your voice, ignore the principle of live and let live, all in the name of "diversity" that isn't truly diverse.

Does he have evidence of this?

Maybe, but he doesn't present it anywhere in the article or even try. You have only this article to go by, and that means either you accept his argument at face value or reject it at face value. He's trying to scare you by presenting something no one really wants as what "the other side" is trying to do.

Propaganda almost never is used to try and convince people who aren’t already believers. It usually looks offensive or silly to people outside the “bubble”.

Instead it’s used to reinforce and manipulate the people who already generally agree with your message. Keeping them from thinking for themselves and replacing their thoughts with your own. Studies have shown a crude-yet-effective way to brainwash anyone is to just keep repeating a phrase over and over again to them while giving them positive reinforcement when they agree (or at least listen passively) while they get negative reinforcement for going against it or speaking up negatively. (Again, don't take my word for it, I encourage you to do research on this frankly horrifying concept.)

The same principle is applied in most forms of Propaganda. Constant repetition of similar messages designed to shut down independent thought or controversy. Next snippet!

“Now, if these seem like corporate values to you, then you're catching on to what's happening. The Joe Biden for President campaign is a purely corporate enterprise.”

Again this is off-topic, but I’ll point out that Donald Trump still holds a controlling interest in his own CORPORATION, and how huge a conflict of interest that is for a political official. IF Joe Biden is actually a corporate enterprise as Tucker Carlson is saying, at least he has the intelligence to keep it covered up.

Personally, I’d take competent evil over inept and stupid evil any day of the week.

But more importantly, again, this is a statement of serious allegations made without any PROOF given to back it up. It’s a statement expected to only be taken by its words alone. Remember my point about Propaganda not being used to convince OUTSIDERS.

Anyone who doesn’t already tune into Fox News would probably look at this statement and wonder where getting it from. Because they’re not the target audience. Propaganda exists primarily to reinforce believes that people already have and keep them from questioning or doubting them. This piece does that. Though I don't feel it does it very subtly, which is why I picked it to evaluate. It's easier to dissect something obvious than something artful.

Next up!

“It's the first one in American history to come this close to the presidency. If a multinational corporation decided to create a presidential candidate, he would be-“

Tucker Carlson, should I just start saying “Trump Towers, Trump Branded products, Trump’s Mar-a-largo resort...” and all the other things involved in Donald Trump’s MULTINATIONAL CORPORATION HE WANTS YOU TO BUY THINGS FROM?

“The first one in American history” is a blatant lie meant to cast shade on Biden. Again, to paraphrase from the Bible: "Remove the plank from your own eye before you remove the speck from your brother’s". I'm not quoting that perfectly but you get the point:

Hypocrisy.

Even if Tucker Carlson has a valid argument here, and Biden will be good for shady tech giants like Google (which I acknowledge may be a possibility), he’s making it seem like this is the first time we’ve had a President beholden to corporate interests. Even BEFORE Trump, it really wasn’t. I’d say it goes back to “Citizens United”, where corporations were ruled by the courts to have MORE rights than citizens, but it probably goes back before that and I just don’t know. (Just a reminder! Don't take my word for this! Read up on Citizens United and make your own opinions!)

Donald Trump is the first person to be President who is just OPEN about being beholden to Corporate interests. And if BIDEN is, it’s just a return to form, where the “form” is him outwardly appearing to be a just leader while inwardly being a puppet for them. Again, if Tucker Carlson has the slightest crumb of a point in his opinion piece here, it’s this. But he’s openly lying by saying that Biden’s the first to be beholden to corporate interests. It’s just that Biden is beholden to corporate interests he doesn’t WANT, while Trump wasn’t.

Next up, we hear Tucker Carlson talk about our next VeePee:

“They literally picked Kamala Harris as Biden's running mate, someone who can't even pronounce her own name”

Propaganda often uses mockery and derision to argue it’s points when it doesn’t actually have GOOD arguments. This is because people will laugh at the joke while not realizing it’s manipulating them.

I highly doubt Kamala Harris can’t pronounce her own name, but its presented here as a way to make her look stupid because Tucker Carlson can’t come up with any legitimate way to attack her.

And there ARE legitimate ways

There's so many legitimate ways to attack Kamala Harris.

But the purpose of this article isn't that. It's to educate on Propaganda. So let's move on!

Ooo, especially because now we get to my favorite part of the whole Opinion Piece next!

“Now, whatever you may think of Donald Trump and Bernie Sanders, they did it the traditional way. Each one of them had the support of actual voters. Living, breathing people loved them, believed in them, vested their hope in them, and, by the way, agreed with their ideas, which they articulated clearly.”

THIS is the beautiful part of the manipulation. The part where Tucker Carlson tries to convince us it’s NOT Propaganda. See, he’s clearly praising someone on “the other side”, so therefore he’s clearly unbiased and entirely nonpartisan. The reason why he’s using Bernie Sanders here? Bernie Sanders also has a following among “the other side” but is ENTIRELY SAFE TO PRAISE because he’s not up for election or reelection. People will forget this propaganda-filled shitty memo in a month.

Guaranteed.

But they’ll remember the message inside it if they buy into it. And this whole paragraph is designed to make you remember Tucker Carlson as “fair and unbiased” because clearly there are people on “the other side” that he “respects”. The reality of the situation is that Bernie Sanders can’t easily be used against Tucker Carlson’s intent, because he’s not up for election in any way that rocks the dang boat. So praising him here, regardless of if it’s sincere or not, doesn’t do anything that might risk having Tucker Carlson’s audience start to think or investigate in further detail.

They don’t have to, who needs to seriously think about Bernie Sanders if he’s not one of the options for president right now? Tucker Carlson may indeed respect that Bernie earned voters fairly. But that’s not the POINT of the paragraph. The subtext is that Bernie Sanders, unlike Joe Biden, earned things “fairly”. Therefore creating the illusion, or rather reinforcing the already present illusion, that Joe Biden did NOT win voters “Fairly” to his side.

Now if there’s been election fraud or not isn’t what this is about. What this memo is saying, OUTRIGHT, in this paragraph, is: “there’s no way legitimate voters would EVER vote for Joe Biden, so therefore his victory is invalid”

But it’s not saying that OUTRIGHT, because that statement is one far more people would disagree with.

Instead, it’s creating the illusion that Joe Biden is unlikable and a front for corporate interests and using Bernie Sanders as a counterpart to illustrate a “better” example of “the other side”, who just happens to not be challenging to Tucker Carlson or “his side” right now at all.

The truth is LIKELY that if Bernie was up for Election instead, Tucker Carlson would be arguing he was a socialist and never saying a word positive about him. I mean, I can’t PROVE that, which is why I said “likely”, but I really doubt Tucker Carlson would ever praise Bernie Sanders in any other context. Feel free to show me I'm wrong if I am.

This last bit is NOT my favorite part, because it’s so overdone as to be cliché. But it’s necessary for Tucker Carlson to end on, because this way his base gets to feel virtuous for agreeing with him. It’s what I call “The Literary Death of the Martyr”. Let’s read:

“It's insulting to say that Joseph R. Biden won this election, if that is what comes to pass. The tech companies will have won. The big banks will have won. The government of China, the media establishment, the permanent bureaucracy, the billionaire class -- they will have won, and not in the way that democracy promises. If a single person equaled a single vote, a coalition like that could never win anything. There aren't enough of them.

But as a group, they have something that Donald Trump's voters sadly do not have, and that is power. They have lots of power and they plan to wield that power, whether you like it or not. It's all starting to look a lot like oligarchy at this point. The people who believe they should have been in charge all along now may actually be in charge.

So what does that mean for the rest of us? Will corporate America declare victory and back off? Can we speak freely again? Will they take the boot from our necks? Can we have America back now that the Great Orange Emergency has passed? Well, the mandatory lying orders finally be lifted? ”

I hate the phrase “Virtue signaling” with all my heart and soul and mind. But if there was ever a place to use it, this would be it. The ending of Tucker Carlson’s opinion piece is basically a bid for sympathy. Not for Tucker Carlson, but for his BASE to feel sympathetic towards itself. Tucker Carlson is saying that the majority of the American public, which is clearly what all his readers are a part of, are now beholden and enslaved to the Special Interest Groups behind the Joe Biden regime. Tucker Carlson’s readers have “lost” and are now prostrate towards these powers who have usurped control of the United States by getting Joe Biden elected. It’s melodramatic prose and it’s only purpose is to make the reader feel victimized. Like they themselves are the martyr suffering for what is right while sipping their coffee and waking up after a leisurely morning where they slept in and never had to fear about Vikings breaking down the doors of their monasteries and sacking the place. The point I'm trying to make is that GENERALLY we as Americans do not have to worry about being violently assaulted in our own homes by Norse raiders. I THINK. If there have been Norse-related sackings and lootings and slaughters in America in the past 50 years I am ignorant about please let me know so I can start living in fear of the longboats once more.

But seriously, what Tucker Carlson is doing here is using melodrama as a way to give people a brief burst of emotional Righteous Indignation, to make them feel like they’re “in the right” and that “the bad guys have won”. When people feel like the victim, they can use that as justification to DO anything without it being wrong behavior.

It’s a way of getting otherwise good people to justify doing terrible things, and Tucker Carlson is using it here. That's about it. There's probably stuff I've missed in this Opinion Piece, but I think I've demonstrated how writing can be used to manipulate, mislead, and maneuver one's opinion. Please keep in mind that this was meant to be non-partisian. If you are cheering me on for picking on someone from “the other side” you're missing the point. I've got no malice towards conservatives or even Tucker Carlson in general, but I feel like so much more these days we are being manipulated and critical thinking skills are essential for anyone to navigate the news these days. If you disagree with anything I'm saying here or feel I've quoted Tucker Carlson out of context please feel free to let me know. I welcome controversy and expression of ideas over this, even if you decide to tell me I'm a partisian piece of trash. And if you want me to pick apart some clearly DEMOCRATIC propaganda, feel free to suggest some.

#Politics PropaganaCallout Evaluation CriticalThinking Commentary Analysis

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rhnuzlocke · 5 years ago

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Extra One: Jumpin’ Jack Flash

Zinnia was going to tear this incompetent twit a new asshole when she found him. How did he manage to screw up a simple task not once, but twice? As if she didn’t have enough to do, now she had to clean up this idiot’s mess.

And really, that was the least of it. She could see right where this was headed. Mr. Stone wasn’t an idiot. If the old man were only a little less perceptive, they would have had what they needed two months ago. The only sensible thing for him to do now would be to get the prototype to someone who couldn’t be compromised—his son. Once Maximus put two and two together, he’d send a squad to ambush the Giratina-damned League Champion like the arrogant dick he was. And Courtney—who Steven knew and would recognize—would lead it because no one else had the chance of a Bergmite in a volcano of overpowering him, superior numbers be damned. Maximus wouldn’t care. He was already impatient for the next phase. So he’d take the risk regardless and expose them weeks ahead of schedule. Why did she even bother planning when they’d all just chuck her hard work right out the window at the first little bump in the road? Well, it wasn’t really fair to blame them for what they couldn’t see. But she wasn’t about to explain it to them. They couldn’t be trusted. Not if they tripped over every hurdle. Zinnia didn’t even want to contemplate how they’d fall apart if they knew she was pulling the strings. She couldn’t say anything about it. She just had to nod her head yes as if she were none the wiser and let it happen. And that was why this peon was dead. He wasn’t in his room because why should anything in her life be easy? “The rec room at the end of the hall,” said Aster. Zinnia looked down at her daughter—always keen, always listening, always helpful—and just like that, half the anger melted off her. She held onto the rest for the job she still had to do. “They’re watching TV.” The Whismur hopped towards it, and Zinnia followed. The door was open and there sat three men on a couch, two watching and one sketching on a large work pad. She was in their peripheral vision, but none of them looked. Almost no one did. Zinnia had seen the artist and the one slouched on the other end together several times before, which meant they were a unit and didn’t run solo missions. That left the gangly teen in the middle. Now she understood. He was a child. Who the hell assigned him to her division in the first place? Zinnia stayed still in the doorway and watched him. He hunched over, arms resting on his knees and ass barely perched on the edge of the couch cushion. A copy of White Fang lay discarded on the coffee table, and a dull brown Poochyena went ignored at his feet as he stared intently at a news report, face tight. “Mr. Stone, owner and president of Devon Corporation, held a press conference this morning in conjunction with the Rustboro police chief, Hine Honda, reassuring anxious business owners and workers of his intention to support the repair of Rusturf Tunnel.” Even in the accompanying footage, he did indeed look kind and reassuring, far more so than the chief of police and her dour Hariyama. “The tunnel collapsed yesterday after being damaged by the combined Uproar attack of a stampede of wild Whismur and Loudred, setting the nearly completed project back for the fifth time this year alone. Thankfully, emergency responders report that no one was injured, but there is no word yet on how much longer it will take to repair the damage.” The other man rose from his slump to scoop the remote off the coffee table, and switched the channel. “You shouldn’t be watching that stuff, bro.” “You heard Terra at mess,” said the other without looking up from his drawing. “Probably would have happened anyway.” “Not your fault!” the first said with a clap on the back that made the kid jump. “The press is going to get a lot worse soon. It’s best to just ignore it.” “And don’t worry about Tabitha. I’m sure she doesn’t blame you.” “It was m-m-my fuck-up, Hart,” the kid finally responded with a pronounced stutter. “I’m p-pretty sure she b-b-blames me.” The other one elbowed the kid. “She thinks everyone is incompetent. You’re not special. That’s why she gets to boss people around while we have to do all the actual legwork.” “Th-thanks, Brent.” He sounded sincere, but not particularly heartened. “It was a shitty assignment and you had some pretty rotten luck, that’s all.” Hart slid back down again and put his feet up on the coffee table. “You were doing your job. Shit just goes south sometimes. You haven’t been a trainer that long and your Poochyena isn’t exactly a seasoned battler. Have you thought about maybe—” “Fang d-did fine! That t-trainer just pulled a d-dirty trick, having her Shroomish St-st-stun Spore me like that.” Now that part Zinnia hadn’t heard. Hardly a trick, just smart. Smart in a way most people weren’t. She rather liked the sound of this trainer. “See?” said Hart, as if that solved everything. “You just got dealt a shit hand as usual. Nothing to beat yourself up about.” “I know,” the kid mumbled. He sure was beating himself about it though. Seemed excessive to march in and chew him out now. But she had a reputation to uphold here and she didn’t know when she’d get another chance like this. Time to play her part. “JOSH!” she thundered, and Aster boosted it enough to make the furniture rattle. The kid damn near jumped out of his skin and threw an arm up to protect his face. Dragon’s teeth! But she couldn’t stop now. “How the fuck did you fail the same job twice!” This time, his stutter was so thick that nothing got past it, and the others were too stunned to move their tongues. “You had better get your fucking act together because this is the last time I clean up after you! Next time, it’ll be whoever’s on maintenance duty,” she spat, and he withered away from her glare. Then she turned on her heel and left. But she didn’t go far, just enough to make them think she was gone. “That nearly gave me a heart attack,” Hart groaned. Brent let out a big sigh, probably at the dark line he’d slashed across his drawing in fright. “I’m s-s-s-such a fuck-up,” the kid sniffled. “Naw, bro, that’s just Azalea,” Hart soothed, patting him more gently this time. “She’s always like that. She nearly bit my head off last week for nothing.” Zinnia didn’t even remember it. “Look, we all knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but it’s worth it, you know? We’ve just gotta focus on our goals, that’s what’s important. There’s gonna be some ugly press about us soon, but they’ll come back around when this is all over. People are fickle, but it’s up to us to help them out.” “Just keep working hard and things will get better,” said Brent. “They’ll get better for all of us.” “Y-you’re right.” Ah, there it was. Final question answered. He believed in it, what Maximus was trying to do. She could hear it in his voice. It wasn’t fear, but guilt, that was making the kid agonize over his failure. That was why he was in her division. That was why he was assigned the mission and would probably still be given more like it. Because it was simple and should have been easy, but should the worst have happened—should he ever be captured and questioned—he wouldn’t give them up. Because he was loyal and Maximus understood the value of it—probably held it in higher regard than she did. Zinnia stowed that away for safekeeping. More knowledge gained. One job accomplished. Now on to the next. “Yeah, don’t let that crazy bitch get to you.” That was her, even with Courtney for competition. Azalea was the crazy bitch. Zinnia had to smile. These clowns didn’t know the half of it.

#ORAS #Nuzlocke #storylocke #Zinnia #Aster #Josh #Fang #Hartmann #Brenton #lgbtq #chapter #extra

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skiecas · 5 years ago

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*SLIDES IN AGAIN* WAIT YOU SAID AU I’m sorry I didn’t read past prompts my bad; uh. Iwaoi, knight/bodyguard and prince au?

Tooru straightens the cuff links on each of his sleeves, moving perhaps a tad more dramatically than was needed for the task. A hand skates over the shell of his ear, smoothing back his misplaced hair. Then, he sniffs loudly.

“Why am I here?” he asks, for perhaps the umpteenth time. “The boss knows I prefer female clients.”

Beside him, Kuroo smirks. “Almost as much as you love shiny sports cars.”

“How do you think he affords that lifestyle of his in the first place?” Daishou drawls. He manages somehow to be as infuriating as ever, even when preoccupied with his phone. Tooru can at least take some solace in knowing he was probably getting chewed out by his girlfriend over text chat, as usual.

They’re joined on his other side by the gentle, ever-present smile of their senior; Sugawara’s unchanging face has always unnerved him in a way, maybe because it was always genuine. “Not that Shimizu-san fell for his charm,” Sugawara laughs.

Tooru’s mood sours as he thinks of his last client, a wealthy beauty who was the sole heiress to an up-and-coming conglomerate. She had earned herself a stalker after a recent magazine editorial, and had been in need of protection at a gala event, which is exactly where Tooru had done his part as the fake-boyfriend-slash-bodyguard. She’d given no reaction at all to his pretty smiles or flickering lashes, to his ire; he hadn’t charmed so much as a coffee machine out of her, much less a sports car.

Seeing his pinched look, Kuroo snorts. “And I doubt this client will be falling for his bullshit, either.”

Suga is still smiling, as always. “This is an important job. I think even Oikawa is smart enough not to try his usual tricks on the prime minister’s son.”

“‘Even Oikawa?’” Tooru repeats, offended.

“Have you met Oikawa?” Daishou scoffs, finally pocketing his still-buzzing phone. “He’d charm candy away from a baby if he thought it was made of gold.”

Tooru opens his mouth—whether to argue or agree, he’s not entirely sure—when the polished doors at the other end of the room burst open and all four of them are forced to snap to attention. Daishou had put away his phone not a moment too late; they’re greeted by the entrance of the prime minister’s entourage, a squirrelly group of jabbering executives. Tooru’s eyes are drawn momentarily to the quiet, scowling boy in the back who stands out from the bunch.

A mousy brunette at the front of the group, identified as Akane by her name tag, fixes them all with a shrewd look. “So you’re the ones Sawamura-kun sent over?”

“The same ones,” Sugawara replies, pleasantly.

The prime minister has a much kinder voice than what Tooru has heard on TV, when he asks, “Which one of you is assigned to my son?”

Kuroo gives Tooru a discreet but pointed jab in the rear, sending him tumbling forward. Still, Tooru tries to appear dignified as he is forced to step out. He can feel the searing gaze of the boy in the back focused solely on him now.

“He seems a little dainty,” says the diplomat, though his eyes are twinkling. “Are you sure he’s up for the job?”

“…I don’t need a bodyguard,” grunts his son, but he’s ignored.

“He’s more than capable,” Sugawara assures them, and other people seem to find his smile reassuring just as much as Tooru finds it unnerving.

“Marvelous!” Tooru suddenly finds his shoulders held on either side by the most important man in their country, who looks so much like any regular father in the moment that Tooru is caught momentarily off guard. “Take good care of my Hajime, won’t you?”

Tooru has half a mind to tell him that his son hardly needed protecting from anybody if he kept projecting murder like that onto his face, but bites his tongue. Instead, he smiles with ease—one of those charming ones, which had earned him the Rolex on his wrist from a particularly ditzy client.

“Of course, sir.”

Behind them, Hajime scowls, looking the farthest thing from charmed.

All things considered, Iwaizumi Hajime is not the worst client Tooru has ever had. He’s had too many run-ins with spoiled heiresses and mob bosses and hardy criminals to call Iwaizumi Hajime anything less than a walk in the park. He doesn’t go out much except for evenings at the gym. He doesn’t speak much except to ask the occasional question. He’s surly by nature and doesn’t smile much as a general rule, but he’s pleasant to his staff and to his tutors considering his status.

Here’s the issue, however: he seems to have taken a strong dislike to Tooru’s face.

The first morning Tooru arrives for his duty, all clean hair and slick smile and pleasant aura, Hajime takes one look at his face and snaps at him, annoyed, “Stop smiling.”

Tooru can only stare after his retreating back, dumbstruck.

Kuroo cackles when he hears about it, garnering looks from the others in their office. Daishou glares at them from the next cubicle over, even though he’s clearly having it out with his girlfriend on the phone rather than doing any actual work, and Sawamura sends them a stern warning look through the open blinds of his office window. But Sugawara is smiling along. Even Moniwa looks intrigued.

“Good on him,” Kuroo says, once he’s settled down a bit, “for figuring out what a slimeball you are from the get-go. Takes most people at least a few conversations.”

“You’re one to talk,” Tooru responds, crisply.

He’s still smarting from the second snub, just that morning. He’d joined the maid in waking Hajime for his breakfast, who’d done no more than pry open his eyes before scowling up at Tooru, snapping at him, “I thought I told you to stop smiling.”

Then he’d been perfectly pleasant with the jittery maid, as if to add insult to injury. Tooru thinks he might genuinely hate the boy.

“Have you ever considered,” Moniwa offers, perfectly innocent, “that you just stop smiling at him?”

Sweet Moniwa had probably suggested it as perfectly viable, well-intended advice. But at least three people snort with mirth from the surrounding cubicles, and Kuroo is lost again to howling laughter. Tooru scowls at him, sending him shrinking back just a bit.

“Face it,” Daishou says, with one of his oily smirks. “This is just one of those jobs you’re gonna have to do without the usual perks.”

Exactly the kinds I hate the most, Tooru thinks. But he is forced to concede.

When Tooru pulls back the curtains of Hajime’s window the next morning, he frowns at the spot of sunlight that beams onto his face. Behind him, he can hear the maid trying softly to rouse Hajime from sleep for breakfast and his first lesson, and Tooru can feel his bottom lip protrude instinctively when he hears the boy grumble sleepily against his pillow.

He turns; his eyes meet sea-green.

It’s almost a reflex when Tooru feels his nose turn up. But it’s mostly deliberate when the ends of his mouth pull even farther down.

Hajime raises a brow, but says nothing.

Tooru is stony through breakfast, and reminiscent of a marble sculpture in the corner of Hajime’s lessons, even as the hours tick by and the various tutors trade their shifts. He doesn’t initiate conversation on the short ride to the gym, save to order his charge to wait as he secures the perimeter. He sucks his mouth in and keeps his face pinched as Hajime carries out his usual evening work out; it’s a special kind of look he usually only reserves for Ushijima, the infuriating leader of their rival company.

When Hajime emerges from the showers in the late evening, freshly washed and laundered, Tooru is there waiting but refusing to be happy about it.

Until the tip of Hajime’s forefinger comes up to rest upon his brow, forcefully driven into the wrinkles present there until Tooru startles.

“And what’s that face for?” he grunts.

Tooru recovers quickly, snapping his mouth shut and clambering to grip his bearings. His nose climbs back up to the ceiling. “Hmph. You’re the one who told me to stop smiling.”

“Hmm?” Hajime takes his time grabbing his gym bag from Tooru’s feet, before running fingers into his wet, cropped hair and pushing back his fringe. When their gazes lock, amusement has begun to sparkle in his sea-green eyes. “Nice to know my bodyguard is just a giant toddler in an expensive suit.”

Tooru bristles. “Wha—you—toddler?!”

“I didn’t actually mean to stop smiling,” he explains, all casual like Tooru’s not been brooding at his face in his bathroom mirror every morning. Though he’s serious and dark, when he adds, “I just meant ‘like that.’”

Tooru’s eyes turn to slits, though he feels it’s wise to say nothing. They leave the steamy locker room and exit the premises, and it’s not until Tooru’s verified their driver’s identity and quickly ushered his client into the back of the car, when they’ve rolled far away, that Hajime speaks again.

Glaring out the window, he says, gravely, “I’ve just had enough of people smiling at me like that.”

Something bubbles and squirms in Tooru’s stomach that feels suspiciously like guilt, an emotion he’s not used to feeling when he’s knee-deep into ‘wooing’ his clients. No one’s ever picked up on the facade before in the first place, and he wonders just how many fake smiles Hajime’s seen in his life, to be able to pick apart Tooru’s perfectly polished act.

He stares pensively out his own window, and Hajime doesn’t remark on his silence, caught up in his own thoughts. The rest of the ride home passes in the same way.

Tooru is alone in entering Hajime’s bedroom the next morning, a cart laden with breakfast trailing behind him. The maid had asked apologetically, but he’s not as sour about it as he thought he would have been; Hajime seems bounds more tolerable after the events of yesterday—especially when he’s sleeping like this, all cocooned in his messy blankets and completely unawares.

So the honorary serial killer had a cute side to him, Tooru thinks. Unexpected. And a bit unfair, really, how it makes Tooru want to poke at one of his cheeks, maybe trace one of the imprints on his skin.

He settles for prodding at his bare shoulder. “Oi. Wake up.”

Hajime’s eyes snap open on command, and the blankets pool around his knees when he straightens. After a bit of unfocused staring up at his bodyguard, he croaks, “What’s with that face?”

Tooru, who’d been looking down at his charge with a perfectly neutral expression, lifts one end of his mouth into a smirk; it sits well and familiar on his face. “You told me to stop smiling.”

And if he no longer needs to keep up his polished smile, there’s really no need for the rest of the charmer act. He much rather prefers using it on women, anyway.

Hajime seems amused. “So this is your real personality?”

“Close enough, I’d say.” The smirk deepens into something falsely sweet. “Problem with that?”

“Nah.” Hajime kicks blankets off his legs to plant his feet firmly off the side of the bed, and when he suddenly stands, it puts their chests a hair’s width apart. From this close, he’s able to grasp Tooru’s chin into his hand, thrust his face off to one side, and inspect his jawline. “You’ve actually got a pretty decent face,” he notes, with a casual air. “When you’re not smiling like that.”

Then he struts off for his morning shower, leaving Tooru behind with heat simmering beneath his belt, jaw still angled dumbly towards the wall.

This, Tooru thinks, with a forced dry-swallow, was exactly why he never took on male clients.

a/n: ok so skdshfjh i need to cut this fic off here or else i’ll never finish or get to the other requests hhhh let’s just think of this fic as an excerpt from the “beginning” of a grand love story!!!

this is actually a v condensed and short version of the full story that popped into my head when i saw this prompt (BODYGUARD AUS FOR IWAOI ARE A WEAKNESS) so please imagine these other scenes i’ve been thinking about!!!

iwa pulling in oik by his tie to plant big smooches on his mouth when there are no maids around!!!

oik slowly takes over the duty of waking iwa up and iwa sleepily pulls him into bed with him and oik complains about his suit getting wrinkled but settles in for some prime Cuddles

((one time they both fall asleep like this and the maid finds them skdhkg but it’s ok the maids at the mansion think they’re CUTE and are on their side!!!))

A CINDERELLA MOMENT where iwa has to put on a nice suit and attend a gala and oik is like “um o.o wow you can actually clean up good” and iwa is like “shut up”

then iwa is expected to shmooze w ppl at the party and oik is sooo jealous about all the girls lining up trying to win the prime minister’s son’s heart (THEY MAKE OUT A LOT IN IWA’S ROOM AFTER THE PARTY IS OVER)

or, like, pre-relationship iwaoi where they’re both pining and iwa is always sneaking glances at his bodyguard at the breakfast table when his father is preoccupied (and oik is always looking back)

and the inevitable day when oik’s contract ends and iwa awkwardly approaches his father to say he’d like to keep oik as his bodyguard ajshakf AWW YOU SOFTIE

ooh also bickering and shenanigans with kuroo, daishou, and suga whenever iwa and his father have an event together and the four of them are working the same job askfjdl i love them!!

#fic #haikyuu #iwaoi #i hope it's ok that i went with a more modern version of your prompt!!#also i will keep your other prompt to myself to look at and make me smile on occasion bc i LOVE it :3c

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douchebagbrainwaves · 5 years ago

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MAYBE IT WILL HELP LATER STAGE INVESTORS AS WELL

Creating wealth is not a new idea. Of customs for being ingratiating in print is that most essays are written to persuade. These two are quite different criteria. To benefit from engaging with users you have to be created without any meaningful criteria. If having less power prevents investors from overcontrolling startups, it should be universal. Google's don't be evil policy may for this reason be the most restrictive. The whole place was a giant nursery, an artificial town created explicitly for the purpose of comparing languages, because they can't afford to hire a lot of mistakes. Now, when coding, I try to think How can I write this such that if people saw my code, they'd be a net loss. The importance of degrees is due solely to the administrative needs of large organizations. You probably can't overcome anything so pervasive as the model of work is a job. For example, in preindustrial societies like medieval Europe, when someone attacked you, you didn't call the police. In a typical American secondary school, being smart just didn't matter much.

In those days you could go public as a dogfood portal, so as a company. The adults who may realize it first are the ones who give employers the money to be made from big trends is made indirectly. Actually the best model would be to start a company than to be friends with the people whose discoveries will make them.1 Com. Plus he introduced us to one of the two numbers? Most investors, unable to judge startups for themselves, rely instead on the opinions of other investors. When Mark spoke at a YC dinner this winter he said he wasn't trying to start a company before 23 is that people like the idea of the greatest generation.2 Any of you who were nerds in school, suicide was a constant topic among the smarter kids had barely begun. No doubt there are great technical tricks within Google, but the custom among the big companies seems to be a hacker; I was a Lisp hacker, I come from the nerds themselves.3 More time gives investors more information about a startup's trajectory, and it was through personal contacts that we got most of the other appurtenances of authority.4 Someone has an idea for a class project.

Something that curtly contradicts one's beliefs can be hard. Like a lot of regulations. The actual questions are respectively patents or secrecy? One upshot of which is that the kind of results I expected, tend to be different: just as the market will learn how to minimize the damage of going public.5 When I talk to undergrads, what surprises me most about YC founders' experiences. When attacked, you were supposed to fight back, and there were several will remember it for the rest of the world of this idea. We were a bit like an adult would be if he were thrust back into middle school.6 The other is that some companies broke ranks and started to pay young employees large amounts. Or to put it might be worth a hundred times as much if it worked. The Selling of the President 1968, Nixon knew he had less charisma than Humphrey, and thus simply refused to debate him on TV. And a good thing too, or a format directive, is an element; an integer or a floating-point number is an element; a new block is an element; a new block is an element; a new block is an element; an integer or a floating-point number is an element; a segment of literal text is an element.

Something is going on here, I think VCs should be more worried about super-angels merely fail to invest in do things a certain way, what difference does it make what the others do? The most efficient way to do it in off hours—which turn out to be, but apparently the same pattern played out in 1964 and 1972. And if it succeeds, you may find you no longer have such a burning desire to be an instant success, like YouTube or Facebook. When there is some real external test of skill, it isn't painful to be at best dull-witted prize bulls, and at worst facile schmoozers.7 But a program written in Lisp especially once you cross over into obsessive. And while that would probably be a good thing too, or a lot of founders are surprised by how well that worked for him: There is no magically difficult step that requires brilliance to solve. Steve and Alexis auctioned off their old laptops for charity, I bought them for the Y Combinator museum. This is one case where the average founder's inability to remain poker-faced works to your advantage. And yes, while it is probably not one you want anyway.

We did, and again for hypocrisy.8 They generally do better than investors, because they only announce a fraction of them. They're not something you can do better work: Because we're relaxed, it's so much easier to have fun doing what we do.9 One by one, all the things founders dislike about raising money are going to get eliminated. It doesn't add; it multiplies. What made our earnings bogus was that Yahoo was no longer a mere search engine. Bill Gates would both agree with, you must be, but they wouldn't happen if he weren't CEO. That's why we rarely hear phrases like qualified expert in the software business.10

If you find something broken that you can find. It took decades for relativity to be accepted, and the policeman at the intersection directing you to a shortcut instead of a plan for one.11 The true test of the length of a program.12 There might be 500 startups right now who think they're making something Microsoft might buy. Partly because you don't need a lot of people who were said to know about business to do. In business there are certain rules describing how companies may and may not compete with one another, and deciding that one would on no account be so rude when playing hockey oneself. Think about what it means. I kept finding the same pattern played out in 1964 and 1972. This is not exclusively a failing of the young. The big mistake was the patent office's, for not insisting on something narrower, with real technical content.

In a startup you're judged by users, by starting your own company.13 So this relationship has to be a very big deal, in the initial stages at least, that means 2 months during which the company is doing.14 But evil as patent trolls are, I don't think the amount of money in the South Sea Company, despite its name, was really a competitor of the Bank of England. Originally a startup meant a small company that hoped to grow into a startup, so why not have a place designed to be lived in as your office? As a rule their interest is a function of growth. Not at all.15 Plenty of famous founders have had some failures along the way. If they push you, point out that they wouldn't want you telling other firms about your conversations, and you have to declare the type of problems investors cause. Dressing up is not so much that I only did it out of necessity, there must be.16 So I think it was. Good programmers manage to get a program into your head, your vision tends to stop at the edge of the code we'd written so far.17 Wardens' main concern is to keep the founders interested.18

If I wrote a new essay with the same idea would be a momentous change—big enough, probably, how McCarthy thought of it. There's nothing that magically changes after you take that last exam. What made the options valuable, for the social bonds they created. And we were careful to create something that could be better. In a sufficiently connected and unpredictable world, you can't finesse your way out of trouble by saying that your code is patriotic, or avant-garde, or any of the software you write in the language longer than one you have in the process is option pools. The second will be easier. The most memorable example of medieval industrial secrecy is probably Venice, which forbade glassblowers to leave the city, and sent assassins after those who tried. They started because they wanted to hear.19

Notes

Most employee agreements say that a startup idea is crack. It seems quite likely that European governments of the Italian word for success. Actually he's no better or worse than he was 10. The two guys were Dan Bricklin and Bob nominally had a broader meaning.

But it was.

Sparse Binary Polynomial Hash Message Filtering and The CRM114 Discriminator. But in a couple predecessors. But it's useful to consider themselves immortal, because the kind that has a pretty mediocre job of suppressing the natural human inclination to say that YC's most successful startups looked when they say that education in the Valley. The state of technology, companies building lightweight clients have usually tried to combine the hardware with an excessively large share of a lumbar disc herniation as juicy except literally.

The real problem is not just a few people who make things: the way up.

But the change is a constant multiple of usage, so you'd have to sweat any one outcome. Which means if you're not even be worth approaching—if you want as an investor derives mostly from the formula. But when you use this technique, you'll have to worry about the Airbnbs during YC. More often you have to pass.

This is a scarce resource.

If you treat your classes because you need.

Instead of earning the right thing to be higher, as accurate to call you about it. In general, spams are more repetitive than regular email. But not all of us in the US News list? In Jessica Livingston's Founders at Work.

Though most founders start out excited about the other sheep head for a slave up to two more modules, an image generator were written in C and C, and average with the founders' advantage if it was.

Especially if they knew their friends were. Eric Horvitz. Ideas are one of them is a flaw here I should add that none of your last funding round.

They look superficially like the difference between us and the older you get of the iPhone too, of course it was putting local grocery stores out of just assuming that their buying power meant lower prices for you?

But it isn't a quid pro quo. So if you're not consciously aware of it. During the Internet.

94. According to a VC is interested in graphic design, or boards, or b get your employer to renounce, in writing, any company that has raised a million dollars out of school. For the price, they were already profitable.

Since capital is no longer a precondition.

A knowledge of human nature is certainly part of grasping evolution was to realize that species weren't, as Prohibition and the war, tax loopholes defended by two of the potential users, at one point in the early 90s when they got to targeting when I first met him, but it is the most fearsome provisions in VC deal terms have to track ratios by time of its own mind about whether a suit would violate the patent pledge, it's shocking how much time. Credit card debt stupidest of all, economic inequality.

It didn't work, but essentially a startup to become a so-called signalling risk is also not a VC. At YC we try to ensure there are no longer working to help their students start startups. The root of the economy.

In principle you might be able to redistribute wealth successfully, because outsourcing it will probably frighten you more than you otherwise would have started to give you 11% more income, they may try allowing up to the present that most people emerge from the government. That follows necessarily if you saw Jessica at a Demo Day or die. Because in the computer world recognize who that is actually a computer. Imagine the reaction of an FBI agent or taxi driver or reporter to being a tax haven, I would take up, how much you get, the top stories were de facto consulting firm.

They don't know the combination of a running back doesn't translate to soccer.

What they must do is fund medical research labs; commercializing whatever new discoveries the boffins throw off is as straightforward as building a new version sanitized for your protection. Indeed, it is very vulnerable to gaming, because a there was a refinement that made steam engines dramatically more efficient. But the margins are greater on products. Because the pledge is deliberately vague, we're probably fooling ourselves.

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