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#why are they on interstate 80?
fiveisnumber1 · 2 years
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That feeling when you start making a post about how you believe (with good reasoning) the unnamed city that TUA is set in, is Jersey City, but then you start looking at the map that Five used for the road trip with all his road side attraction markings and come to realize the path they are following makes no sense in terms of getting to the notable Pennsylvania dutch area of PA. So now you’re on a personal side quest to figure out what is going on with the map.
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bubbledtee · 5 months
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modern!80s!james the typa guy to scream along to songs while driving. especially when you’re on a road trip together.
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jtl-fics · 1 year
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Fluent Freshman - Part 10
PREVIOUS
He calls his grandma to thank her for everything. She promises him that if anything keeps him from her on Christmas she’ll just make her way over to South Carolina to see him. “Maybe I can give that boy who is bullying you a piece of my mind!” She says and he loves her for it even if the thought of Andrew vs. his 70 year old grandma gives him heart palpitations that have nothing to do with the five hour energy he just slammed when no one was looking.
(He had eaten turkey because Abby had asked if he didn’t like it when he had forgone the white meat being passed around. She looked SAD so he just piled the dark meat onto his plate (at least it has less tryptophan) trip and now he needs to counteract the turkey. He could not afford to be sleepy on the impending car ride.)
He lets her know that everyone likes her pie and Abby had been overjoyed when he informed her that his gran always attaches a recipe card to the bottom for any pie in transit / for public consumption. (This is a woman who has been asked enough that she has the confidence to assume).
He gets off the line and feels the 5 hour energy kick in when Captain Neil appears out of nowhere next to him and he thinks he strains something when he resists the flinch his rapidly beating heart almost forces him into. “What language was that?” He asks.
“Polish.”
“You really do know a lot of languages. Just like your friend said.”
DANGER. DANGER. DANGER.
“Not that many.” DEFLECT DEFLECT DEFLECT “When are we heading out to Columbia?” DAMMIT
Captain Neil blinks but smiles, “We’ll be heading out in a little bit. Abby’s packing us leftovers. Too bad there’s no pie left. Do you think we could make it at the house? Andrew really liked it.” Neil says.
Pie is a safe topic. Pie will not betray him. Also if Andrew wants pie then he can’t kill FF until FF makes it and, perhaps, the pie will buy him a few extra days of mercy from his executioner.
“We can try. The secret ingredient is a grandma’s love though.” He says because it’s on the recipe card. It’s the most important ingredient in the whole pie. It’s what can keep a pie warm across a country. “Gran always says whipped cream can be used as a substitute though.” he says.
Captain Neil blushes.
DAMMIT WHY? WHY BRING UP THE WHIPPED CREAM?
“Well, we’ll have to pick some up from the store.” Captain Neil manages.
FF blanks his face as best he can and nods but gets up his heart beating too fast to remain seated. “I’ll be outside.” He says because he needs to walk around in some circles while he can. The car ride to Columbia is going to be a nightmare in general but especially since he slammed the five hour energy.
Kevin is the reason for the hold-up and the reason that FF gets 80 more laps around the house. He’s reminding them that they can’t stop exercising just because it’s a break gesturing to himself and the 20 minutes of squats that he just did to burn off the pie and then to FF who passes a window for the 10th time since this conversation started “See FF is keeping up with his fitness. Be more like him.”
Wymack eventually drags Kevin out of the house and into his car since they’re spending the break together. He flashes FF a thumbs up as FF passes and FF (unaware as always but great at mimicking social cues) gives him a thumbs up back.
It’s then that they get into the car. FF (as is the way of the world) is sitting bitch with Aaron and Nicky on either side of him.
Captain Neil is up front and starts to play some music. Both Nicky and Aaron are conked out before they even reach the entrance to the interstate. They have also slumped onto FF with Aaron asleep on his shoulder and Nicky drooling into his hair.
“You can just shove them off.” Andrew says.
“It’s fine.” FF says reminiscing about the last time he’d had something like this.
20 minutes later it’s not fine because the five hour energy is definitely kicking in but it would be so rude to move and wake Nicky and Aaron up. Nicky is probably tired because he came to check on FF five different times the night before and kept dragging him away from whatever Saw movie he was taking notes on and Aaron ate a LOT of white meat so he’s filled to the brim with tryptophan.
But he thinks he’s about to vibrate out of his skin.
He closes his eyes to try and breathe through this when.
“Smith said that we can try and recreate his grandma’s pie. We’ll just have to do a grocery run tomorrow.” Captain Neil says in Russian.
“It was good pie.” Andrew returns in the same language.
“He said that the secret ingredient is grandmotherly love.”
“It was on the recipe card. It said for best results be sure to add throughout the baking process.”
“His grandma said whipped cream was a good replacement. That it goes great with the pie.”
Uh-oh
FF knows that tone.
FF has fled across campus, the bus, the dorm room, and (one one notable occasion) the locker room when he has heard that tone coming from Captain Neil.
“Pie isn’t the only thing it will enhance the flavor of.” Andrew says back and FF feels as the car speeds up.
FF wishes that Andrew would just hurry up and crazy murder him already. He’d take the reverse bear trap over this psychological torture. He wants to pull up his phone and read if the Geneva Conventions list this as a war crime.
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robertreich · 1 year
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The First Step to Fixing the Electoral College
Should someone else's vote count more than yours?
For 80% of Americans, that’s exactly what’s happening. Their vote for president isn’t nearly as valuable as the vote of someone in a so-called “swing state.” Why?
Most of us live in states that have become so predictably Democratic or Republican that we’re taken for granted by candidates. Presidential elections now turn on the dwindling number of swing states that could go either way, which gives voters in those states huge leverage.
The 2020 election came down to just over 40,000 votes spread across just three swing states.
2016 came down to fewer than 80,000 votes also across three states.
In those elections, the national popular vote wasn’t that close. In fact, in the last five elections, the winners of the popular vote beat their opponents by an average of 5 million votes.
The current state-by-state, electoral college system of electing presidents is creating ever-closer contests in an ever-smaller number of closely divided states for elections that aren’t really that close.
Not only that, but these razor-thin swing state margins can invite post-election recounts, audits, and lawsuits — even attempted coups. A losing candidate might be able to overturn 40,000  votes with these techniques. Overturning 5 million votes would be nearly impossible.
The current system presents a growing threat to the peaceful transition of power.
It also strips us of our individual power. If you’re a New York Republican or an Alabama Democrat, presidential candidates have little incentive to try and win your vote under the current system. They don’t need broad popular support as much as a mobilized base in a handful of swing states. Campaigning to a smaller and more radical base is also leading to uglier, more divisive campaigns.
And it’s become more and more likely that candidates are elected president without winning the most votes nationwide. It’s already happened twice this century.
Now, fixing the Electoral College should be the ultimate goal. But this requires a constitutional amendment — which is almost impossible to pull off because it would need a two-thirds vote by Congress plus approval by three-quarters of all state legislatures.
But, in the meantime, there’s an alternative — and it starts with getting our states to join the National Popular Vote Interstate Compact. Don’t let that mouthful put you off. It could save our democracy.
This compact would guarantee the presidency to the candidate who receives the most popular votes nationwide WITHOUT a constitutional amendment.
How does it work?
The Constitution assigns each state a number of electors equal to its number of representatives and senators. As of now, the total number of electors is 538. So anyone who gets 270 or more of those Electoral College votes becomes president.
Article 2 of the Constitution allows state legislatures to award their electors any way they want.
So all that’s needed is for states with a total of at least 270 electoral votes to agree to award all their electoral votes to the presidential candidate who wins the national popular vote.
The movement to do this is already underway. 15 states and the District of Columbia have joined the compact, agreeing that once enough states join, all their electoral votes will go to the popular vote winner.
Together, states in the compact have 195 electoral votes. So we just need a few more states with at least 75 electors to join the compact and it’s done.
Popular vote laws have recently been introduced in Michigan [15 electors] and Minnesota [10 electors], which if passed, would bring the total to 220.
Naturally, this plan will face legal challenges. There are a lot of powerful interests who stand to benefit by maintaining the current system.
But if we keep up the fight and get enough states on board, America will never again elect a president who loses the national popular vote. No longer would 80 percent of us be effectively disenfranchised from presidential campaigns. And a handful of votes in swing states would no longer determine the winner — inviting recounts, audits, litigation, and attempted coups that threaten our democracy.
If you want to know more or get involved, click this link to read about the National Popular Vote Interstate Compact.
If your state is not already a member, I urge you to contact your state’s senators and reps to get your state on board.  
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urbanism-and-transit · 2 months
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Minnesota has been a hot spot for Urbanism and Public Transport progress for the better part of the last couple of years.
I-35 is being removed and is now in the process of designing what the new stretch would look like, and if you want to read more on how and why they did this, I will drop their mission statement below
Olson Memorial Highway has been granted the funds to convert into a Boulevard
Lastly to take more about Minneapolis proper, a report done by Fortune in 2023 showcased that the removal of single house zone restrictions and building more mixed used housing that had a percentage carved out for lower income people, was the main reason Minneapolis was about to cool off inflation and basically stop the nation wide rental spike from hitting the cities.
To add on, HF 4009 is a bill that will shore up multifamily zoning and make sure towns and cities use the ground when they are available.
Minnesota is also taking a huge step, with a new law introduced last year to ban parking minimums state wide. Parking minimums are one of the main reasons single family homes take up so much space, and the large, dead parking lots that every shopping center has
And for the final thing, and the most important in my view, the Northern Lights Rail last year had funding allocated from the state for the project and are now waiting for the release of federal funds to complete the last 80% of the funding
Even though Minnesota is seen as a more quiet state where nothing really major happens, it goes to show that when the a group of passionate people gather and want to make a change, and are able to convince a state body to throw their weight around to get the grants for it, the sky's the limit on what can be done for communities
-Wamter
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devilat-thedoor · 8 months
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What Is and What Should Never Be Ch. 1
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A/N: The parts in this fic are going to be on the shorter side compared to my other one, but that allows me to get them out quicker. This first chapter is really just laying the foundation for the story. I hope you enjoy, babes! and as always, feedback is appreciated🤍 P.S. This is all fictional, straight from my imagination. Please don't take it too seriously💖
Word Count: 9k
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, Smut(none yet, but for future reference), Mentions of alcoholism/addiction, Mentions of death. Reader Discretion Advised.
So if you wake up with the sunrise and all your dreams are still as new // And happiness is what you need so bad, well girl, the answer lies with you
“Bell, are we really doing this?” Your grin was beaming as you twisted the key in the ignition, hearing the engine rumble. You rolled the windows down, letting the late March wind breeze through the car.
Your best friend, Bellamy, turned to you from her spot in the passenger seat, “I mean, unless you want to carry all of our stuff back into that shithole…” She jutted her thumb out the window, towards the shabby apartment building that, up until 15 minutes ago, you had called home. “Then we are absolutely doing this!” You laughed, pulling away from the curb as she hung half of her body out the car to shout a goodbye to your hometown. “We’re fucking out of here! See you later, Phil!” Bellamy had her middle fingers in the air as the wind swept through her jet black hair.
Reaching over, you grabbed her shirt to yank her back in the window, “Bellamy, the groundhog can’t hear you!” Your hand went back to the steering wheel as she settled back into her seat and kicked her feet up on the dashboard. “Don’t get too comfortable, you’re not gonna fall asleep on me 20 minutes into the drive.”
She rolled her eyes and gave you a lazy smile, “Fall asleep on you, sweet pea? Never.” She grabbed the aux cord, plugging it into her phone. “Why did we decide to drive again? We could’ve left everything to the moving company and just booked a flight… This is gonna take for-ev-er.” She flicked her sunglasses down over her eyes with a whine.
“Bell, how often are we gonna get to road trip across the country? Think of all the places we’ll get to see!” You tried to sound as positive as you could but, truth be told, you weren’t very excited about the drive either. The speakers came to life when she finally decided on a playlist, opening with House of the Rising Sun by The Animals. “Once we’re on I-80, the drive will go so fast, babe.”
She dropped her feet back to the floor, turning to face you again, “Whatever you say, Y/N.” Digging into the grocery bag full of snacks below her, she grabbed a pack of gummy bears and ripped them open, “God, I just can’t wait to be out of here and in the sun… And our new apartment?” Bellamy curled her legs up into her seat, turning to face you, “Are you okay with me taking the Master bedroom? I really want the en suite bathroom.”
You glanced over to see her pouting her lip at you, “You can have whatever room you want.” Looking back to the road, you turned the music down a bit, “If you told me I had to sleep in a tent on the balcony, I would do it.” It sounded like a joke, but you were partially serious.
“You know you’d be sharing my bed if there was no other place for you, Y/N.” She gave you a pointed look and slouched back into her seat. “We would just need a kind of ‘sock on the door’ signal, yanno?”
Craning your neck to look behind you, you slowly merged onto the interstate, “When has a signal ever worked before, Bellamy?” It was early enough in the morning that traffic was mostly clear, allowing you to set the cruise control to an even 70mph. “Remember Seth? The guy I met at sophomore year IUPatty’s? I left the shamrock beads on the doorknob and that didn’t stop you from barging into the dorm!”
She held her hands up, “In my defense, there were beads scattered through the hallway. How was I supposed to know you put them there intentionally?” Her shoulders raised in a shrug as she remembered back, “And I saved you! Your fake moans weren’t even believable, you weren’t getting off!”
You broke out into a cackle, “Oh my god, Bell! Fuck, you’re actually right.” She stuck her tongue out at you, “He was so hot, but had no rhythm at all… it was just anticlimactic. No pun intended.” You were both in a fit of laughter when your friend popped up in her seat.
“Babe, turn it up!” Bellamy yelled over the wind whipping through the windows as Rocky Mountain Way by Joe Walsh began playing. “It’s our song!”
You reached for the volume dial with a grin, cranking it up as you both started singing along. “…Out to pasture, think it’s safe to say, time to open fiiiire…” You held your closed fist to your mouth, using it as a makeshift microphone, “And we don’t need the ladies crying cause the story’s sad…” 
Holding your invisible microphone out to your friend, she sang the next few lines into it “‘Cause the rocky mountain way is better than the way we had…” The two of you went back and forth, singing loudly through your giggling. You listened as Bellamy vocalized the entire solo at the end of the song, finishing with a deep inhale to catch her breath.
The next song came on as you both settled down and you just drove in a comfortable silence for a while. You stopped for food and gas while passing through Toledo and continued on, only stopping again once you were right outside of Chicago. “I’m sick of driving, Bellamy. It’s your turn.” You whined at her as you pulled the car into a gas station.
“I’ve got maybe five or six hours in me.” She pushed her door open, grabbing her wallet from her bag to head into the gas station, “I do not want to be in the car anymore, so let’s plan on stopping in Des Moines… If traffic stays clear, we should make it by at least eleven. Midnight at the latest.” You followed her into the convenience store, listening to her lay out the plans. “When we get back in the car, look for a motel or something cheap we can stay in for tonight and then we’ll get back on the road early tomorrow.”
You both headed to the restroom to relieve yourselves before grabbing a few energy drinks and bottles of water and paying for your gas. “Sounds good, babe.” After filling the tank, you climbed into the passenger seat while your friend got behind the wheel and began browsing for a place to rest.
“Hey, Bell…” You’d been back on the road for another two hours, going back between music and podcasts, when you turned to her.
She glanced at you with a soft smile, “Yes, sweet pea?”
You were toying with your fingers in your lap, “I haven’t actually said it yet, but thank you.” She gave you a questioning look, prompting you to elaborate, “For bringing me along with you… to San Francisco. I will never be able to make this up to you.” You wanted to make sure she knew how genuinely grateful you were. All you’ve dreamed of, since you were 15, was getting out of your hometown and escaping the living hell that was your life. You thought that the day you turned 18, you’d pack up and leave to head for the west coast, get as far away as you could to avoid the chance of ending up like your mother. But after graduation and without money, your only option to get out of Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania was going to college. Bellamy made you apply to IUP with her and when you both got in, it seemed like things wouldn’t be so bad anymore. Even though the university was only about 40 minutes from your hometown, it was far enough away that you didn’t have to deal with the stress of living with your parents anymore. Your dad was always amazing. He taught you everything you knew, from how to cook to how to change your own brakes and oil. All he ever wanted was to make sure you were capable of taking care of yourself when the time came for you to be on your own and that time came a lot sooner than either of you could have anticipated.
It was your junior year in college and you were so close to getting your Bachelor’s in Anthropology. Your classes kept you busy enough that you didn’t have time for partying or getting into trouble. All of your focus went into your school work in the hopes that once you finished, you would find a great job in doing something you loved and make enough money to go wherever you wanted. But the perfect bubble you’d put yourself in popped that November when you went home for Thanksgiving break.
Your mother’s alcohol addiction wasn’t anything new to you. You would come home from middle school to find her passed out on the sofa, empty bottle littering the coffee table. Some nights she would come into your room to crawl in bed with you, crying that she wanted to be better and that she was going to try to stop drinking. You would let her hold you and cry until your dad would come in and gently walk her back to their bedroom. The smell of her vodka soaked breath is something that would surely stick with you for the rest of your life. Dad would try his hardest to hide how bad her problem really was, but you knew. It started to get worse when you got into high school. She would get drunk and belligerent, screaming and breaking things. You’d gotten accustomed to staying at Bellamy’s. Her father and yours were best friends and that’s how you and Bell ended up as close as you were. On the nights your mother was particularly bad, Bell’s dad, Mr. Cole, would get a call from your dad and within minutes, you would be climbing into the backseat of his car with your best friend to stay with her family for a couple of nights. You begged your dad to leave her, to just let her drink herself rotten and move you and him some place far away where she couldn’t affect you anymore, but he refused. Always telling you that she needed the both of you to get her through it, that she didn’t have the strength to stop drinking on her own. Part of you knew that he didn’t even believe that himself, but you looked up to him more than anybody and trusted that he knew what was best. Still, you couldn’t stand to live in the same house as her, so when you got accepted to the same college as Bellamy, it was like life was finally giving you a break.
Then that Thanksgiving day came crashing down and everything else went with it. You and Bellamy made the short drive home the day before and you dropped her off at her house before heading to yours. Your dad was at the door, waiting to greet you as you pulled in and he rushed out to wrap you in a bear hug and help you with your belongings. You were dreading the kind of state you would find your mom in, but to your surprise, she seemed sober and completely normal. She pulled you into an embrace and you could still smell the faint hint of liquor on her, but her behavior had you fooled into thinking it was just your imagination. You were having a good time, helping her prep the apple pie so it would be ready to bake for the holiday while listening to music. She asked you how your classes were going and she seemed genuinely interested as you explained your course load to her. It was a welcome change to how conversations normally went with her.
 As the day dwindled to early evening, you started to see a change in her. She was getting sloppy and she stumbled through the house and you noticed her eyes starting to droop, but it wasn’t until she started throwing a fit about not having enough wine for the guests that you’d be having over for Thanksgiving that you realized she must have been sneaking drinks throughout the night. You watched as your dad tried to reason with her and calm her down, but she just kept yelling, throwing things around the kitchen until he finally gave in and offered to drive her to the store so they could pick up a few more bottles. You pleaded with him to stay, trying to convince him that he was only enabling her addiction by catering to her temper tantrums, but he brushed you off, wrapping you in hi arms and placing a firm kiss to the top of your head before grabbing his jacket and ushering your mother out the door. You didn’t know it then, but that would be the last time you would ever hug your father. After they started the drive into town, in a drunken fit of anger, your mom would lash out and begin hitting your dad, causing him to run off of the road and into the woods. He was pronounced DOA by the first responders and she would walk away from it without a scratch. Nobody knew that it was her fault, but after his funeral, when she was already half a bottle deep, she confessed it to you. You left her alone that night and never looked back and she ended up moving south to live with family. You couldn’t forgive her and if you never saw her another day in your life, it would still be too soon.
The depression you fell into forced you to drop out of college. You moved back to your hometown and got a job at the local diner, Punxsy Phil’s, to pay rent. Bellamy moved back with you and spent her last year and half commuting to school before graduating with her Bachelor’s in Computer Science. Now, two years later at 26, Bell was offered a job at a tech company. They were based out of Silicon Valley but they wanted her to head a team in their San Francisco office. When they offered to pay for her housing for a year until she got her footing, she sweet talked them into a two bedroom apartment and asked you to go with her. Of course you jumped at the opportunity and now here you were, driving across the country to start your new life and it was all thanks to your best and oldest friend.
“Y/N, I wouldn’t have even thought about taking this job if there wasn’t a chance that you could come with me.” She reached over and grabbed your hand, squeezing it softly, “I know how hard the past few years have been, but we’re starting a new chapter and it’s us, babe. It’s always been you and me.” A grin formed on her face as she put her hand back on the steering wheel, “We’re gonna fucking rule San Fransisco like Christina and Courtney in The Sweetest Thing.” She paused before adding, “But promise me you won’t fall in love with a guy you just met overnight!”
You leaned over the center console, hugging her tightly and planting a giant peck on her cheek, “I fucking love you, Bell.” You were both laughing as she pushed you away.
“I love you more, sweet pea.”
💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿
It was early Sunday morning when you finally pulled into the parking lot or your new apartment building in the Mission Bay neighborhood. It stood maybe six stories high and each apartment had its own balcony. You and Bellamy were on the third floor, number 308, and she held the keys in her fist as you both stepped out of the car. The excitement couldn’t be contained as you made it up the elevator and she unlocked the door, pushing through it to see your new home in person for the first time. Stepping into the apartment, you both rushed around, exploring the living space. It was quaint and small, but it was perfect for the two of you. You each had your own bathroom and the bedrooms were a decent size. The sliding door that led out to the balcony caught your attention at the same time as her and you were running to slide it open and see the view of the city. “Bell, is this even real?” You gazed out in awe, seeing all the buildings and businesses that surrounded. You couldn’t wait to see what it looked like at nighttime with the city lights. Just as your friend went to answer you, there was a knock on the apartment door that was left wide open and you turned to see the movers standing there. You both looked at one another with large smiles, “Let’s turn this place into home, B.”
“I think it’ll look better against that wall.” Bellamy placed her hand on the man’s arm, pointing to the opposite side of the living room. “Could you just move it one more time?” You bit your lips together, trying to stifle a laugh as she batted her lashes at him. The movers made it to your new home right after you had and your best friend was quick to put them to work. You stood back, allowing her to give directions with flirty giggles, directing the men where to put everything.
Finding it best to stay out of her way, you decided to occupy yourself with something else, “Hey, hun!” You called across the room to Bellamy, “I’m gonna start unpacking the kitchen.” She gave you a thumbs up without breaking concentration on the movers. Walking into the tiny kitchen, you pulled open the first box you saw to reveal all of your plates and bowls, wrapped in old newspapers. You decided on a cabinet and began stacking the dishes, one by one, discarding the papers into the empty box as you went. Next was the cups and mugs then tupperware and pots and pans. After a little over an hour, you had the kitchen completely unpacked with everything in its rightful place.
As you stood in the middle of the space breaking down all of the boxes, your friend came through the doorway, “Everything is officially moved in.” You watched as she padded to the refrigerator to retrieve a bottle of water. She shook a bottle in the air, silently asking if you wanted one, and tossed it after you gave a nod, “And, courtesy of those three very sweet men, the living room is already assembled.” Bellamy gave a proud smile as she cracked open her bottle. “We just have to fill the bookshelf and hang some art on the walls or something.” She shrugged, taking a large gulp of water.
You took a few chugs of your own and checked the time on your phone, pausing the music that was playing. “It’s only 1 o’clock, we’re making pretty good time. You wanna go find lunch somewhere?” Bellamy’s phone began ringing as she nodded her head and you watched her walk back into the living to retrieve it. After a minute you left the kitchen as well, going into your bedroom to find a change of clothes in the mountain of boxes. The apartment already came with beds and bedroom furniture and you dug through one box, pulling out the new sheets and comforter that you’d purchased and tossed them on the mattress.
“Soooo…” Bellamy startled you as she popped her head in the door frame, “Don’t hate me…” She gave an apologetic look.
You dropped the clothes you were holding to the bed and let out a sigh, “We’re not getting lunch, are we?” 
She came into the room, cupping your face with a pout, “I’m sorry, Y/N! Please don’t be mad.” You pulled out of her hold, rolling your eyes, “That was my new boss that just called and he wants me to go down to headquarters to meet everyone.”
You weren’t mad, you knew how important this job was to her, “It’s fine, Bell. Take my keys, they’re on the kitchen counter.” You pointed out the door.
A high pitched squeal left her mouth and she wrapped you in an incredibly tight hug, “I’ll make this up to you, I swear!” She went to her own bedroom to change clothes and you decided you would still go out and get food, but you would also take the time to look at who may be hiring in the area. You pulled on a pair of cutoff denim shorts and a black baby tee that read ‘farm fresh peaches’ with two of the bright fruits printed over the chest. Once satisfied with your outfit, you dug through your laptop case to pull out a copy of your resumé and a separate sheet of paper with a solid list of references, and tucked them into your bag just as Bellamy came back to your doorway, “I love you and I’ll be back soon!”
“Leave me your keys, Bell!” You called as she disappeared back out into the apartment, “I’m gonna go explore the neighborhood a little bit and you’ll have my keys, so leave yours for me.” She nodded, digging her key ring from her purse and dropping them on the counter.
Ten minutes later, you were locking up and riding the elevator to the ground floor. You stepped out on the street, looking left and right to decide which direction you wanted to go in. Opting for the left, you started on your journey, unsure of where you might end up, with a goal of finding lunch in mind. You’d lost count of how many blocks you walked when you landed on Market Street. The entire length of it was lined with stores and bars and restaurants, it was unlike anything you’d see back home. Sure, Pittsburgh was a great city to visit, but it didn’t compare to this in your eyes. You scoped out a few different food spots as you walked along the sidewalk, Some with potential to eat at, others with potential for work, but you continued on, lost in the bustle of everything going on around you until something caught your eye. A bright, neon open sign shined bright in a storefront window and illuminated the ‘Now Hiring’ sign to its right. It was a piece of paper that looked like someone just scribbled the note on with thick, black sharpie, and taped it to the window as a joke. Your gaze traveled up to the hanging sign above the door, Highway Tunes Records, before dropping back to the windows and seeing the art and posters adorning the walls inside. Your eyes fell upon a psychedelic poster, made up of colorful and abstract swirls that came together to unmistakably make Jimi Hendrix. An audible gasp escaped and you found yourself pulling the door open and shuffling inside the store and straight over to the poster. You were entranced as you stared up at it, unable to tear your eyes away until a voice stole your attention.
“You a Hendrix fan?” Turning to find whoever the voice came from, you were met with a gleaming set of teeth, stretched into a mesmerizing grin, with the tiniest gap between the front two.
You returned his smile, murmuring a response once you realized you’d been staring at him, “Uh… Yeah. He was my dad’s favorite musician.” You glanced back up at the framed poster as he replied.
He was standing incredibly close, you could feel the heat radiating from his body, “Well, he is great… So!” His exclamation made you jump and he laughed, “Sorry, it’s been a slow day and you’re probably our fifth customer since opening at noon.” You looked down at your phone to check the time, 2:49pm, and gave him a sympathetic smile. You knew how boring a slow day at work could be. “Anyways… What brings you into HIghway Tunes? Looking for a specific album?”
 “Actually, that is what brought me in here.” You pointed up to the Jimi poster, “It felt like it was calling me in.” You shook your head, aware of how weird that sounded, but before you could try to reword it, the man was already talking.
“Oh. Well, unfortunately, I can’t sell you that specific piece.” He let out a huff, turning on his heel and walking in the opposite direction. Your brow furrowed as you watched him go and he turned around, gesturing for you to follow him, “That one is part of Jake’s personal collection.” He started after you fell into step behind him, “He’d kill me if I sold it and then he’d hunt you down and kill you too… But these…” He stopped in front of a giant bin, filled with rolled up posters, and flipped open the binder above it, “These are all on the market.”
You watched as he thumbed the pages, looking over the inventory of music posters. You couldn’t help but stare at him. Full lips, bordered by a tasteful bit of facial hair. A wild mess of curls that covered his forehead and ears, only leaving the small, silver hoops piercing his lobes to stick out. He had a constant smile on his face and you almost didn’t want to open your mouth out of fear that it would go away, “I’m not… really looking to buy anything.” You watched the grin falter, but he quickly recovered it, “I’m sorry. I just don’t have the spare money right now to spend on things that aren’t necessities.” You scrunched your nose with a shrug.
He turned to face you, looking you up and down as if he was sizing you up, “You’re not from around here.” Suddenly feeling self conscious, you crossed your arms over your chest, looking away from him, “Hey, no. I didn’t mean any offense… Just that the only people who come in here are either regulars or tourists and you’re certainly not a regular.”
“How do you know I’m not a regular?” You gave him a pointed look as you pursed your lips. “Maybe you just always miss me when I come in?”
“Naah. Nobody comes in here without me or Jakey seeing them and I would not forget you.” He slapped his palm over his face whilst shaking his head, “Sorry, that… That sounded creepy. I just meant… never mind.” A bright blush started to overtake his cheeks.
He was so charming and handsome, you couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled from your mouth and if Bellamy were there, she’d accuse you of flirting. “Okay, I did just move here, but tell you what… As soon as I get a job, I promise to become a regular.” You flashed him a sweet smile before turning around and heading for the door, “Don’t forget my face.”
“Woah, wait!” He called after you and you stopped to face him again, a questioning lift to your brows, as he jogged the short distance across the store, “You need a job? We’re hiring.” He sounded desperate as he continued, “The pay is good, I swear. You’ll get great hours and everyone here is chill!”
You looked around at the shop, really taking in the eccentric environment. His smile alone was enticing you to say yes and you couldn’t fight against it, “So… is this an official interview?” You joked and saw his shoulders visibly relax.
He looked around the store as though he was searching for something, “Actually, let me find Jake. We might be able to interview you right now.” He went in the opposite direction from you, giving you no time to decline before heading for the checkout counter, but he stopped, “I’m Josh, by the way!” He yelled from where he stood
You called out to him, still planted by the front door, “I’m Y/N!” His smile seemed to grow brighter as he repeated your name back to you.
Just as he was about to push through the door behind the counter, it flung open to reveal another man behind it, “What’s with all the fucking yelling?” From where you stood, it looked like he was gritting his teeth at Josh. His hair was long, landing past his shoulders, and he wore a pair of dark sunglasses. He peered over Josh’s shoulder to get a look at you and you saw his lips moving before the curly headed boy turned and waved you towards them.
You swallowed your nerves and began shuffling towards them. Your eyes drifted to the ceiling to see it plastered with vinyls, all painted over with intricate and colorful artwork. As you stepped up to the counter, your eyes fell on the men, “This place is a lot like Trax.” They both gave you strange looks, prompting you to clarify, “The record store from Pretty In Pink? With Molly Ringwald?” The confusion didn’t leave their faces as you stared at them, “Seriously? That’s like, my favorite movie. It’s an iconic John Hughes masterpiece! The scene when Duckie sings Otis Redding?” You continued to gush despite how clueless they clearly were.
Josh’s face lit up into a grin as he listened to you, but the other guy remained stoic, almost like he was bored, “Well it’s a good thing you don’t need to know movies to work in a music store.” You couldn’t help the look of shock on your face at his pompous tone.
But you were never one to let a man make you feel small, “No, you’re right, but… if I’m not mistaken, there’s an entire shelf over there,” You pointed to your left with a cocky smile, “that is loaded with movie soundtracks… And if you ask me, music and film go hand and hand.” Looking back at him, you gave an innocent shrug, “But you’re the boss, so who am I to argue?” He was taken aback by your quip but you could’ve sworn you saw a hint of a smirk on his lips as he eyed you. You directed your attention back to Josh, “Maybe I’m not a good fit… but I hope you find someone who will be.” You were about to turn and leave, but he stopped you.
“No, don’t leave!” He slapped the other man’s arm, “Jake, don’t be a jackass. We need the help and I think she’ll be great.” He was practically pleading.
“Ahh, you’re Jake…” You finally connected the dots, “The same Jake that would hunt me down and kill me if I made off with that Hendrix poster over there?” You nodded towards the frame that hung on the wall. “So maybe you don’t know classic movies, but you clearly have good taste in music.” It was an attempt at flattery and it seemed to work because he finally cracked a genuine smile.
His eyes flashed to the poster and came back to you, “What’s your favorite Jimi album? Song?” He was trying to quiz you as if he didn’t believe you were really a fan of the musician. “Answer carefully, peach.” 
Your gaze dropped to your shirt before you narrowed your eyes at him, “Axis: Bold As Love by the Experience and Red House… Specifically the Woodstock live recording.” You raised your eyebrow, waiting for a snide remark, “And I have a name…” You almost forgot that Josh was standing beside him until he cleared his throat.
He clapped his hands together with a laugh, “See, Jakey. You can’t tell me she wouldn’t fit in perfectly.”
Jake leaned forward, resting his elbows on the counter, “Why is Red House your favorite song?” The question made you smile.
“It’s all very bluesy. The guitar riff and solo, his lyrics… The first time my dad played that song, I was completely enthralled.” You were speaking genuinely and judging by the way he was nodding, he knew it.
He turned to Josh, silently communicating to him with a look. You watched them, trying to decipher what was being discussed, but as you studied their expressions, you noticed how similar they looked. Josh’s eyes locked with yours and he answered your question before you could ask it, “Yeah, we’re twins, Y/N.” He chuckled softly, “It’s always the first thing people ask…” You mumbled an apology, casting your eyes to the floor, “Nothing to be sorry for. But good news! You’re hired!”
“What?” You looked at him in shock, “I- But- Don’t you have to…ask more questions?” How did they decide that with just a series of facial expressions to one another? “Do you need references or… I don’t know, it’s never been this easy to get a job, there’s gotta be a catch…”
Jake disappeared through the door behind him for a moment and reemerged holding a t-shirt, “The catch is, you gotta be here bright and early tomorrow to start training.” He tossed the tee at you and slid a piece of paper over the counter, “Take this home, fill it out, and bring it back with you. I’ll see you here at 9am, peach.” He turned around, going back through the door and closing it behind him.
“I promise, he’s not as unpleasant as he makes himself seem.” Josh came around the corner to stand beside you and pulled the paper from the counter, “We’ll start your wages at $20.25 per hour. I just need you to fill out this application with all your basic information. Yanno, name, number, address, social. Then we’ll be able to get you on payroll asap.” He handed you the page with his bright grin that you were growing to really enjoy.
“I’ll take your word for it.” You stuffed the t-shirt and application into your tote bag, “So he’s training me tomorrow?” The distaste was evident in the way you forced a frown, “Are you gonna be around to soften that blow?” You were begging the universe for a yes, but wound up disappointed.
He placed a hand on your shoulder, “Mondays are my days off…” He gave an apologetic smile, “Jake’s actually really cool, Y/N. And I’ll make sure he goes easy on you.” As if he could sense the anxiety radiating from you, he offered a compromise, “Alright, I have some shit to get done tomorrow, but I’ll stop in around lunch to see how everything’s going. Okay?” He flashed that damn smile and you were sold.
“Thank you, Josh.” Your phone began to ring in your back pocket and you pulled it out, muttering a sorry to him as you answered it, “Hey, Bell.” You listened to her speak for a few moments, “No, I haven’t… I’m fucking starving, though. You wanna come pick me up?...Uhhh, I’m not sure, it’s a record store on Market Street…Yeah, I’ll just drop a pin… Perfect. Love you too, babe.” You hung up, sending her your location, and stuffed the phone back into your pocket. “Sorry about that.”
“Was that your boyfriend?” The question caught you off guard, but the apprehension on his face threw you off even more.
You shook your head, partially to answer his question, but also to clear your mind enough to form a response, “Umm. No. No, that was Bell- Bellamy.” You paused before elaborating further, “She’s my best friend. We moved down here together…” 
He let out a breath that you didn’t realize he was holding in, “Oh! Cool.” The silence stretched between you and you weren’t sure if he felt as awkward as you did.
Your phone dinged, saving you from the tension, and you pulled it back out to see a text from your friend, “She’s here, so I’m gonna go…” You pointed towards the door before slowly turning away from him. Just as you reached the door, you looked back to see him watching you and tried to conceal the blush creeping onto your cheeks, “Any quick food recommendations? We haven’t eaten yet today… Oh! Preferably cheap?” 
“If you’re looking for something close, Super Duper Burgers is great. Definitely check their seasonal menu.” He ran his fingers over his mustache, drawing your attention to his lips, “If you're willing to go a little further up the Market, Taqueria Cancun has some solid, authentic Mexican tacos. There’s a ton of sushi joints.”
“How about pizza? I’m kind of craving a greasy slice.” You knew Bellamy was waiting for you, but for some reason, you didn’t want to leave.
“Ahh, a girl after my own heart.” Josh pulled his bottom lip between his teeth for a few seconds, “Slice House. Hands down, best pizza. You gotta try the Drunken Italian.” He pinched his fingers together, giving an exaggerated chef’s kiss, “The vodka sauce is fucking revolutionary.” You held eye contact for longer than you cared to admit, but then the corner of his lip curled into a smirk, “You better get going, your friend is waiting.”
“Yeah, I guess I should… See you tomorrow?” He nodded his head, forcing his curls to sway as he waved goodbye. “Bye, Josh.” You pushed through the door and found Bellamy waiting in your car at the curb.
She pulled her purse from the passenger seat as you slid in and handed your phone off with the directions to the pizza place, “Why am I not surprised that you already managed to find a music store?” She shifted the car into drive, hitting the blinker to pull out.
“Bell, I literally just walked in there and they hired me. I start tomorrow.” You almost didn’t believe the words that poured out of your mouth. “It was the weirdest thing… I walked by and there was this Jimi Hendrix poster, and you remember how much my dad loved Jimi?” She nodded, waiting for you to continue, “When I saw it, it just drew me in. I don’t know how to explain it. But I was standing there and this guy came up to me, Josh, and-.”
“Mhmm…” Bellamy cut you off with a knowing smirk, “Josh, huh?”
You scoffed at her, “No. Don’t start, it’s not even like that.” You didn’t defend any further, just proceeded with your story, “Anyways… He offered me a job and he and his brother interviewed me right on the spot. I start tomorrow morning and get this, Twenty dollars an hour, Bell.”
She gawked at you, eyes wide, “Twenty? That’s over the minimum wage here. Did you suck his dick to get it?” She laughed at her own joke as you lightly hit her arm.
“You’re an asshole, yanno?” You sat back in your seat, laughing with her. “He is pretty cute, I can’t lie… He just seems like a really fun person and he’s always smiling. Like the brightest smile you’d ever see... But his brother, Jake, was sort of insufferable.” You were chewing on your lip as she glanced at you.
“Insufferable how?” She turned to you fully as the car stopped at a red light.
You thought back to the short exchange you’d had with him, “He was arrogant as hell, for starters.” Her eyes went back to the road as she let off the brake and you continued, “He didn’t even bother to learn my name, just kept calling me ‘peach.’ You wouldn’t even know they were twins if they didn’t look identical.” You stared out the window, looking at the buildings to find Slice House.
Bellamy spotted the restaurant at the same time you did, swinging the car into the first available spot she could find, “Twins? Oh, you’re fucking joking, Y/N. We haven’t even lived here a full day!” She cut the engine as she glared at you, “How old are they?”
“I don’t know? Our age, maybe a little older… Why does it matter?” You were toying with your fingers, something you did when you were nervous. “Don’t give me that damn look, Bellamy! It’s just a job. You’re not gonna find some hidden context in this.” Pushing the car door open, you stepped out to end the conversation.
She was popping out of her side right after you, “Okay, babe. Whatever you say…” You knew she had more to say but she dropped the topic for the time being as you both walked into the restaurant.
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You stood right outside of the door, looking at your reflection in the glass to straighten your shirt out. It was 8:48am and you were trying to work up the courage to go in, mentally preparing yourself to be trained by Jake. You were too focused on your reflection to see that he was coming across the store. The door pushed open and you jumped back with a yelp, “Did you plan on coming in for your shift or were you gonna spend another 15 minutes fixing your shirt?” He was holding the door, waiting for you to go inside.
You moved past him, rolling your eyes, “You know, you just make the atmosphere so inviting. How could I not want to be here?” You bit your tongue, aware of how much attitude you’d just given the man who is technically your boss. “Sorry, I-.” You turned back to face him but he was already breezing by you.
“You’re kind of a fucking brat…” You followed behind him, ready to argue his claim, but he was already moving on as though he’d said nothing at all, “Here. We got a long morning ahead of us and you’re gonna need to keep up with me.” He grabbed a cup from beside the register, handing it to you, and pointed to the door behind him, “There’s cream and sugar in the office if you need it, don’t take forever.” Taking the hot coffee without a word, you stepped around him to go into the office. When you came back, he was leaning against the counter, chin propped on his fist, “You fill that paper out, peach?”
Digging into your tote, you pulled the paper out and slapped it down in front of him, “That’s not my name, it’s-.”
“Y/N. I know” His lips curled into a conceited smirk and, had he not been walking away,  you might have slapped it right off of his face, “Peach feels more fitting.” He waved his hand, beckoning you to follow him.
You fell into step as he walked towards the front of the store, “You saw fruit on my shirt and ran with it. Very original idea, can’t believe I didn’t think of it.” The look he had when he whipped around to face you made you clamp your mouth shut, but you couldn’t help the tingle you felt through your body at his response.
Jake was glaring at you with a hint of something you couldn’t quite place, “You’ve got a mouth on you.” He was pointing a finger at you, “and I can think of a few different ways to shut it.” Your jaw practically hit the floor as you stared at him and he flashed a devilish smile, knowing that he’d left you speechless. He turned away again, leading you to a display near the front door, “Pay attention.” You nodded silently as he started mapping things out for you, “This rack is all new release vinyls. We change most of them out weekly, depending on what kind of album drops there are.” He started walking towards the middle of the store, walking between the rows of shelves, “Everything is sorted by genre first and then alphabetical order.” You listened intently as he sped through the rundown, “We keep bargain bins down here.” He pulled open a cabinet door below one of the tables, revealing crates full of vinyls with torn and worn sleeves, “These are all used and donated, we sell them for $3 a piece or we do 10 for $10. It’s hit or miss, some work, some don’t.” Closing the cabinet, he moved to a different part of the store. You trailed quietly alongside him, soaking up all of the information he was spewing. After about 20 minutes, he’d looped you both back to the front, “Let’s see if you’ve kept up…” He crossed his arms over his chest, waiting to see if you’d maintained any of the knowledge.
“Okay…” You took a deep breath, “Here we have new releases. They get updated weekly, unless there aren’t any good drops.” You continued throughout the space, pouring everything he’d given you back out to him, until you made it to the checkout counter, “Limited Edition vinyls are kept behind the counter, the new inventory delivery comes every Friday morning at 8am sharp, and I think that’s everything…?”
Jake was nodding his head, surprisingly impressed, “Not bad, peach.” He glanced at the clock on the wall, “We got a half hour before we open at 11.” He plucked your application from the counter where you’d left it, “I’m gonna get through some paperwork. You can-” He was cut off by the sound of footsteps coming from the back of the store. “Liv? I thought we wouldn’t see you until summer?” He greeted the short, blonde girl.
She had a stereotypical valley girl accent, “Finished my semester early, figured you guys needed me more than UCLA.” She gave him a smile that looked like she wanted to devour him. Her eyes flashed to you dismissively before flying back to Jake, “You here by yourself? I can clock in and help out.”
You shifted on your feet, feeling out of place, and Jake took notice, “Not alone today, I have peach, here, to help out.” He nodded towards you.
“Peach?” She finally took the time to really look you over, “Were your parents hippies or something?”
You opened your mouth and closed it again, not sure how to respond, “Uhh. No, that’s not… My name is Y/N.” You reach out for a handshake, out of respect, but she just stared at your extended hand.
“Cool. I’m Olivia.” And just like that, she directed her attention back to Jake, “Can you fit me on the schedule this week?” She pushed her bottom lip out, looking like a toddler begging for candy, “I know you guys miss me.”
He shook his head with a faint smile, “I’ll talk to Josh.” He left it at that, turning to you, “Take that box and start putting the shit where it goes.” He pointed at the box on the floor.
“Aye aye, captain.” You saluted him with a smile and picked the box up.
A chuckle escaped his mouth and until that moment, you thought he was incapable of feeling joy, “I’ll be in the office if you need anything.” He started to walk around the counter, “I’ll let you know about the schedule, Liv.” He slipped through the door and closed it behind him, leaving you with the girl.
To avoid conversation, you gripped the box in your arms and lifted it to counter to begin sorting through it. Pulling out a stack of vinyls, you carried them through the store, fitting them into their rightful places. You hadn’t realized Olivia was following you until her low, grating voice creeped into your ears, “So…How did you get a job here?” She was watching you carefully, almost like she was waiting for you to make a mistake, “Jake is suuuper picky about who he hires.”
You looked at the last vinyl in the stack you were carrying, “Uhm, I just came in here yesterday to look at something and Josh offered me the job.” Moving through the tables, you went to the Country section and tucked the album away, “Jake gave me a shirt and told me to be here at 9am, so here I am.”
She was standing so close to you that you almost ran into her as you turned around to retrieve more from the box, “Here you are…” She sounded annoyed, but you ignored it as you pushed past her.
You went about your business for the next several minutes, finishing the task that Jake had given you, as she lingered through the store, watching you work while she pretended to browse the music. You pulled the empty box from the counter, ready to ask your boss what he wanted you to do next, when the bell on the front door chimed. You turned around to see a man come in and go straight to the New Release rack. He perused for a few moments before moving to the tables to search through the records. You expected Jake to emerge from the office, but he never did. After a few minutes of the guy looking entirely lost in his search, you took a deep breath and made your way over to him. Your eyes flicked to Olivia to see her staring at you, a cocky grin on her face. “Hi, can I help you find something, hun?” You put on your best customer service smile as he turned to face you.
“Actually yeah…” He looked like he was maybe in his early twenties and he seemed nervous, “I’m looking for something for my dad. He just bought himself a record player, but he doesn’t have any records for it.” He gave a shrug, “I don’t really know where to start here.”
This wasn’t as scary as you thought it would be, “Okay, do you know what kind of music he likes? Any specific artist or band?” You waited patiently for him to answer.
He pulled his phone from his pocket, tapping the screen a few times, and held it up to show you, “This is a band right? I think he likes them.” It was a picture of a man, probably his father, wearing a Led Zeppelin tour t-shirt.
Your eyes went back to his face, giving him another sweet grin, “Yeah. Zeppelin’s a great band. Your dad has great taste.” You moved around him to walk him over to the appropriate shelves, “We should have a ton of their stuff… Do you want anything specific?” You had a feeling that he wouldn’t know what to choose.
“I- Well, what would you recommend?” He stood by while you flicked through the selection, “Which one is the best?”
“That’s a tricky question.” You pulled a few vinyls from the display, holding them up one by one, “So, Zep one is a safe choice. It’s their first studio album, really opened up the door for them, plus it’s got a couple really great blues covers.” You slid that one to the back of your stack to reveal the next, “ Two is also good. You get Whole Lotta Love, Ramble On, Heartbreaker.” He was nodding as you pulled your final option forward, “This one is my personal favorite.” You held up the album, showing him the cover with the peeling paint and the old man carrying a bundle of sticks, “I kind of skipped over three, but Zoso…This is their fourth studio album, and arguably the best.” You handed it to the boy to examine, “Going to California is probably my favorite song of all time. But it’s also got Stairway to Heaven and When the Levee Breaks. Black Dog. If your dad is a Led Zeppelin fan, then he’ll definitely appreciate this.”
“You know what, I’ll take this one and the first one you showed me.” You handed him the first album before turning to put the remaining one back on the shelf. He was smiling wide as he took it from you, “So are you like a music expert or something?”
You giggled at his question, “I wouldn’t say expert… Just really appreciative of what’s good.” You were staring at his light blue eyes, almost entranced in them when Jake barked your name from the counter. You jumped, whipping around to look at him with wide eyes. He held his hand up, waving for you to go to him, “Gimme one minute.” You called out to him and went to turn back to the man in front of you, but Jake’s voice rang out louder.
“No. Right now, Y/N.” He was leaning his hands on the countertop, glaring in your direction, but his eyes weren’t on you.
You muttered an apology to the blue-eyed boy, “I’m sorry, I’ll be right back.” You shuffled across the store, embarrassed at how he’d just spoken to you in front of your first customer, but also pissed at how he treated you like you were an insolent child. You stood in front of him, whisper-yelling to avoid further embarrassment, “What the hell, Jake? What did I do?” You looked around, realizing that Olivia was gone.
“You’re here to work, not flirt.” There was an edge to his tone that you couldn’t fully decipher.
“What?” You stared at him in shock, “I wasn’t- I was making a sale! Yanno? What you hired me to do…” Was this conversation even real?
He stepped out from behind the counter, “Go wait in the office, I’ll finish your sale.” You moved to try and stop him but his voice was dangerously low, stopping you in your tracks, “Office, Y/N. I’ll carry you in there myself if I have to.” He turned on his heel, walking towards the customer without another word, and you found yourself obeying his command to wait in the office.
Pushing through the door, you looked around the small space before closing it and dropping into a chair. You were highly considering just quitting as soon as he came in, but at the same time, you didn’t want to. Everything was so confusing… Why did he accuse you of flirting when he wasn’t even there? And why did the possibility of you flirting make him so mad? You sunk further into your seat, pondering your own questions, but the one you needed an answer for most; Why did you so easily bend to his will? You were pulled from your thoughts by the door opening.
“Good to know you’re capable of obeying orders, peach…”
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🤍Taglist🤍
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usafphantom2 · 1 month
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SR-71 is on display at the SAC Museum in Ashland, Nebraska. Many folks may recall the SAC Museum in Bellevue, Nebraska, just north of Offutt AFB. In 1998, the new museum moved indoors to its current home in Ashland, which is much more accessible to the public. The new building also allowed the aircraft to be moved indoors and protected from the elements to which they had previously been exposed. The name of the Strategic Air Command (SAC) Museum was officially changed to the Strategic Air & Space Museum.
In 2015, the museum announced another name change to the current Strategic Air Command & Aerospace Museum to reconnect to the museum's original mission of preserving the history of the Strategic Air Command while promoting interest in aviation and science among the general public. After the end of the Cold War and the shutdown of SAC, the State of Nebraska built a new building for the SAC Museum. It is just off Interstate 80, about halfway between Lincoln and Omaha.
The SR-71 is dramatically displayed in the museum atrium.
Why, Nebraska? After the end of World War II, it was determined that the Midwest was the safest place in America in case of a nuclear war. Today that is not true; Russia has the entire United States covered.
@Habubrats71 via X
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rgbstatic · 1 year
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ctommy woke up in wyoming and is walking down the side of interstate 80
and the signs go from reading 'INTERSTATE [WYOMING] 80' to 'INTERSTATE [UTAH] 80'
and he's so tired and he doesn't know why he's walking but he had nowhere else to go. and there's a truck stop. and a gas station, and finally he can get water or something to eat.
and the gas station door chimes.
"Tommy?!?"
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sinelanguage · 6 months
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20 questions for fic writers
taking from @fivedayslater who tagged anyone for this, i'll also pass around to 'anyone who wants to answer these questions is effectively tagged' but also @lostlegendaerie, @sharpenote specifically.....
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
36! not too shabby considering i'm not super consistent about writing.
2. What's your total AO3 word count?
257,465! wow. jeez.
3. What fandoms do you write for?
Currently One Piece, historically Voltron. 
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
predictably: this is almost entirely Keith/Lance.
Stormchasing: Keith/Lance handcuffed together fic i tried to pace like an actual episode! posting early in the fandom’s lifecycle gave it staying power, lol.
The Hustle: Keith/Lance espionage/heist-ish fic i cowrote with a friend. Really fun premise, and it was fun to co-write something!
Good Grief: Keith/Lance 5+1. i don’t remember anything about this.
Tallies: Keith/Lance 5+1. look… i wrote a lot of these.
Interstate 80: It’s not Klance! Jean/Marco, roadtrip modern day AU. i wrote this as a teenager, and i do not think this holds up whatsoever, but i made a lot of close friends through this fic and i'm fond of it solely due to that, haha.
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
i try! i have like, a half-life where if a fic is more than a year old i probably won’t respond because i’ve probably forgotten anything interesting to say. 
6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Haha i wrote a hunger games AU for Attack on Titan? i don’t know what possessed me to take Jean Kirstein out of one horribly depressing canon and into another horribly depressing canon. 
Outside of that, i tend to stick to relatively happy or neutral endings. Most recently, Time Turned Fragile probably has the angstiest ending but i’d classify it as bittersweet really, even though Sanji like. dies? look. don’t worry about it
7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Uhhh??? this is harder to answer … Inaba’s Self-Appointed Cat Adoption Agency is a fic that is probably the fluffiest thing i’ve ever written and as such has the most feel-good fluffy ending as a result.
8. Do you get hate on fics?
not really! i’ve gotten a-bit-too-bold concrit in bookmark notes, but i wouldn’t really consider that hate.
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
Nah lol. (gestures to weaknesses answer) it is not my forte, and i’m not super interested. 
10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?
not typically! I did write Turnabout Heart, which is a brief Persona 5 / Ace Attorney crossover, because I thought Sae being friends with Mia would be neat.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
ah, i found someone reposting my fic to wattpad once (username still attached). i just gently told them it was in bad form lol, it was wattpad in 2017 or so so I’m sure it was just some kid haha. they apologized and deleted it and their other stolen stuff so it’s all good.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
Nope! Someone offered once, but never got back around to me. 
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Yes! The Hustle from above, and for better or for worst which was a fun last hurrah for Keith/Lance.
14. What's your all-time favourite ship?
It’s really funny because i’ve never written for any of my all time ships lol. Ike/Soren is maybe my ship of all time. Keith/Lance i’m still stupidly fond of despite myself. i never even finished Voltron.
15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?
this has historically been time loop fics, but I wrote two this year!!!!! Congrats to me!!
Currently i’ve been working on a Robin-centric Robin and Sanji roleswap fic, and while i have a good grasp on the emotional/plot arcs involved it is not easy to write Robin POV lol. i can only write characters who are more emotionally stupid than me. i keep chugging away at it though.
for one I know I'll never finish: I have a brief outline/scenes written for a Professor Sada/Robot Professor Sada (haha. lol. sorry.) fic that would be titled Stochastic Parent as a play on the machine learning term 'stochastic parrot', i.e. the principle that AI does not truly understand language, merely parrots it back to the user. i could not figure out how to write this without being on the nose.
16. What are your writing strengths?
Bizarrely i really like writing action scenes hahahaahaha. It’s one of the few scenes in fic i really fully visualize, so translating that is fun. emotions in a fight are fun too, i like writing fear. 
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
The main one: romance! More specifically though, physical intimacy. hilarious to write mostly romance fic and be bad at it. i’ve been actively avoiding writing kissing scenes for the last 10 fic or so. at this point i’m trying to see how long i can go without one.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?
Think it’s incredibly neat to see but i don't think i'll ever do it. i feel like i need to return my linguist card for this answer....
19. First fandom you wrote for?
some different answers here: Fire Emblem (never finished or posted online), Harvest Moon (posted on deviantArt and deleted when i scorched my warrior cats username from the face of the earth), and Attack on Titan (first fic on ao3)
20. Favourite fic you've ever written?
All time it’s Dead Horizon. i got to write a lot of fun environmental storytelling and horror in that one, and I liked the emotional arc overall. i really like environments/settings in terms of storytelling, and i don’t get the chance to write much of that since i stick with shorter one shots typically. Still very, very fond of it. 
Recent stuff it’s Same As It Ever Was. i’ve wanted to do a Once in a Lifetime themed timeloop for ages but I kept dropping the concept, until now! Finally I wrote a scene based off the ‘not my beautiful house, not my beautiful wife’ lyric! dream come true.
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zappsbrannigan · 6 months
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ok i guess gotta start gradually some posts about my headcanons and gushing about how frapp is a top tier ship and see what happens <3 so this is part 1 of several lmao (i will add pics in the next ones) OK, SOME INTERESTS AND TRAITS THEY BOTH HAVE IN COMMON ,YOU KNOW SOME COMPATIBILITY! As two wise faires might say... two halves of a whole idiot! Besides they are after the same gal which makes it indeed a typical "rivals to lovers" ship material: you can say Zapp is more unhinged than Fry but both are pretty much impulsive individuals, also gotta be honest Fry might not do some stuff because Bender or Leela, so idk I have the feeling he can be a bit more himself around the captain after ,well they spendin more time together they both share some similar interests as such: 80's music ,cartoons and both are space enjoyers; of course Fry has a frustrated dreams that might see or live through Zapp. Fry might be really interested on hear his adventures (even if some are slightly exaggerated), also Zapp might be intersted in th simplistic way that delivery boy has about some topics, some feet on the ground (also in a Flight for Remember he didnt say that Fry reminded to a young self???)...idk maybe Zapp might start like "this dude is fun to mock...oh wait why do i care now??" Yeah this is some introduction to the potential, they can argue to gradually to learn to admire to each other -thinkin emoji- hmm yes!!
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fiveisnumber1 · 2 years
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Reasons Why I Think The Unnamed City In TUA is Jersey City, NJ:
1) Jersey City is 30 minutes away from where Gerard Way (creator of TUA comics) grew up. I believe being that close to Jersey City would have some influence.
2) Jersey City is within road trip driving distance of Lancaster, Pennsylvania which is the area most well known for for the Amish/Pennsylvania Dutch. 
If they take interstate 80, like it looks like they’re doing on the map Five has, it would take them about 3 1/2 hours to get to Lancaster or if they take the more practical options of interstate 76 or 78 an then taking route 222 it would be closer to 2 1/2 to 3 hours. All of which are realistic options time wise for them leaving on the trip in the morning and arriving back at the hotel at night time to present the dead birth mother findings to the rest of the group. 
3) Klaus says that they are “going to Pennsylvania” (S3 E2 min 20:40) to find his birth mother. That means that they were not in Pennsylvania to begin with which rules out cities in PA like Pittsburg and Philadelphia.
4) The way Jersey City looks is very reminiscent of how the city in TUA looks.
 These are images from Jersey City. 
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
And these are some city shots from TUA
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Both Jersey City and TUA city are shown to have have a mix of shorter and taller buildings along with may different store fronts and walkable areas. And it is with all this information that I like to believe that The Umbrella Academy takes place in Jersey City, New Jersey.
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country-corner · 3 months
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Pop the Clutch
Ok, funny story here regarding push starting a standard transmission.
Back in high school the choir was on a trip, can't remember why but the full size bus we was on was on the side of the road and wouldn't start. This was back pre-cell phones and we had taken some back roads and not the interstate to cut time getting to the competition, so the options were someone walk the 15+ miles to the nearest town, walk the few miles to the closest house to call for help, hitchhike into town if we saw a car or we just sit there until someone came across us. So, being country kids, me and another guy got a crazy idea and asked the bus driver to get everyone off and we would try to push the bus while she popped the clutch. Started off, most of us was pushing, when it started rolling the 8 of us, who were the biggest, continued and she popped the clutch. It worked, the bus got started, she stopped just long enough for all of us to jumped back on and made it the rest of the way.
When we got there the bus died. The music director from one of the other schools, that was closer, called his school and they lent us a bus and driver for the 80 mile trip back home. The bus we originally had never did made it back to our small town.
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kp777 · 1 year
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By Robert Reich
May 10, 2023
The First Step to Abolishing the Electoral College
Should someone else’s vote count more than yours?
For 80% of Americans, that’s exactly what’s happening. Their vote for president isn’t nearly as valuable as the vote of someone in a so-called “swing state.” Why?
Most of us live in states that have become so predictably Democratic or Republican that we’re taken for granted by candidates. Presidential elections now turn on the dwindling number of swing states that could go either way, which gives voters in those states huge leverage.
The 2020 election came down to just over 40,000 votes spread across just three swing states.
2016 came down to fewer than 80,000 votes also across three states.
In those elections, the national popular vote wasn’t that close. In fact, in the last five elections, the winners of the popular vote beat their opponents by an average of 5 million votes.
The current state-by-state, electoral college system of electing presidents is creating ever-closer contests in an ever-smaller number of closely divided states for elections that aren’t really that close.
Not only that, but these razor-thin swing state margins can invite post-election recounts, audits, and lawsuits — even attempted coups. A losing candidate might be able to overturn 40,000  votes with these techniques. Overturning 5 million votes would be nearly impossible.
The current system presents a growing threat to the peaceful transition of power.
It also strips us of our individual power. If you’re a New York Republican or an Alabama Democrat, presidential candidates have little incentive to try and win your vote under the current system. They don’t need broad popular support as much as a mobilized base in a handful of swing states. Campaigning to a smaller and more radical base is also leading to uglier, more divisive campaigns.
And it’s become more and more likely that candidates are elected president without winning the most votes nationwide. It’s already happened twice this century.
Now, abolishing the Electoral College should be the ultimate goal. But this requires a constitutional amendment — which is almost impossible to pull off because it would need a two-thirds vote by Congress plus approval by three-quarters of all state legislatures.
But, in the meantime, there’s an alternative — and it starts with getting our states to join the National Popular Vote Interstate Compact. Don’t let that mouthful put you off. It could save our democracy.
This compact would guarantee the presidency to the candidate who receives the most popular votes nationwide WITHOUT a constitutional amendment.
How does it work?
The Constitution assigns each state a number of electors equal to its number of representatives and senators. As of now, the total number of electors is 538. So anyone who gets 270 or more of those Electoral College votes becomes president.
Article 2 of the Constitution allows state legislatures to award their electors any way they want.
So all that’s needed is for states with a total of at least 270 electoral votes to agree to award all their electoral votes to the presidential candidate who wins the national popular vote.
The movement to do this is already underway. 15 states and the District of Columbia have joined the compact, agreeing that once enough states join, all their electoral votes will go to the popular vote winner.
Together, states in the compact have 195 electoral votes. So we just need a few more states with at least 75 electors to join the compact and it’s done.
Popular vote laws have recently been introduced in Michigan [15 electors] and Minnesota [10 electors], which if passed, would bring the total to 220.
Naturally, this plan will face legal challenges. There are a lot of powerful interests who stand to benefit by maintaining the current system.
But if we keep up the fight and get enough states on board, America will never again elect a president who loses the national popular vote. No longer would 80 percent of us be effectively disenfranchised from presidential campaigns. And a handful of votes in swing states would no longer determine the winner — inviting recounts, audits, litigation, and attempted coups that threaten our democracy.
If you want to know more or get involved, click this link to read about the National Popular Vote Interstate Compact.
If your state is not already a member, I urge you to contact your state’s senators and reps to get your state on board.  
youtube
(Source: youtube.com)
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frasermints · 9 months
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For the ask game, every multiple of 5.
bestie that's so many
5: what does your latest text from someone else say?
"This robot is trying so hard" in response to a youtube shorts link i sent
10: when is the last time you played the air guitar?
people actually do this??
15: do you prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?
behind. always. i fucking hate getting my picture taken. froggie can attest to this after she made me get after i got BeReal
20: what is your greatest weakness; greatest strength?
damn we're going with the serious ones tonight aren't we? i like to think that, in face-to-face irl situations, i'm a good listener. i just fucking suck at responding. especially after my covid infection, i can't brain-to-mouth words anymore. the edit feature on imessage has helped this significantly since 99% of my interactions happen over that text platform but hooooooly shit i'm so bad at speaking
25: do you prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online?
i really like facetime but i fucking HATE looking at myself in the little window so i'll usually point it directly at my ceiling unless it's with One Specific Friend, mostly bc she's already seen me naked so her seeing me at Not My Best isn't a big deal and also like. idk i just fucking Hate My Face lol
30: stick your right arm out; what do you touch first? do the same with your left.
since i'm in bed and the only thing to my right is... the air. pumpkin is directly in FRONT of my right arm so i'll go with that. my phone is in front of my left arm.
35: to you, what is the meaning of life?
dude i don't even know. fuck around and find out. see more than twelve thousand trees. don't tell your friends they do too much yoga. own a cat. have at least one sex-induced medical emergency. confuse a seagull for an eagle when you're high as shit and get laughed at for it. drink a truly on the beach and watch the tide come in. eat so many cherries you shit yourself forty five minutes later and don't regret a single second of it. buy all of the notebooks you see in the bookstore and don't write in any of them. sleep outside when it's warm enough. take care of a houseplant. go far enough away from the city to actually SEE the stars. work with children. cry because of a dumb movie. breathe.
40: do you drive? if so, have you ever crashed?
yes: coming home from the seattle/tacoma metro area i got hit by someone going 90mph (145 kph) on the interstate. genuinely thought i was fish food that day.
45: what's the worst injury you've ever had?
probably the time i attempted rifle and caught it w/ my skull instead of my hands.
50: do you believe in magic?
eh
55: love or lust?
insert "why not both" gif
60: is there anything pink within ten feet of you?
yes, a couple things. a couple of bowls, a bag of potting soil, my sharps containers, some animal shaped erasers, a solid 50% of my sex toys are pink for some reason.
65: top five favorite blogs on tumblr?
peach, froggie, lou, steph, and vati
70: are you the kind of friend that you would want to have as a friend?
i would choke me out without hesitation i do not understand how froggie tolerates me to be honest with you
75: what are the last four digits of your phone #
what are you a cop???
80: what size shoes do you wear
i don't know bc it's changed since i've started t and now none of my shoes fit
85: what's the last song you listened to?
i wanna get better by bleachers (title of my current wip comes from this song!)
90: you wake up to find that you're surrounded by mummies. they aren't doing anything, just standing around your bed. what do you do?
assume i'm dreaming and try to go back to bed
95: you just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. you have to depart right now. where are you going to go?
do i HAVE to??? i don't have a passport and i don't like airports :(
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Okay, new head canon- Wayne was a truck driver before Eddie came to live with him. That's why he has a collection of trucker hats. When Eddie was placed in foster care, Wayne immediately looked for a job in Hawkins so that he could take Eddie in--foster care wasn't going to send a 13 year old to live with a parent who was driving across the country 80-90% of the time. So Wayne works at the local power plant as a janitor (because we have a world of respect for janitors on this blog) which is why he has the night shifts.
Oh, and if you also ship Benny and Wayne? Benny runs a diner on the edge of town near the interstate with a gas station near by, so truckers are always stopping at the diner for a good burger. And Wayne always stopped in Hawkins to get lunch and if he could he would take Eddie to the diner to have lunch with him.
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max--phillips · 2 years
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Some things about Indiana that I, someone who grew up in Lafayette/West Lafayette & now lives in Indianapolis, think you should know about this state:
1. Everyone who lives here dreams about getting the FUCK out at some point. Y’all, it is painfully boring here. The most exciting thing you can do is leave…
2. …until you’re in a place in your life where you can enjoy things like state and national parks. Turkey Run, the Indiana Dunes, Shades, Lake Monroe, the entirety of Brown County. Southern Indiana particularly is more interesting because it isn’t as fucking flat as the rest of the state. From Indianapolis north it’s just…. Flat.
3. That Town Name Is Not Pronounced Like You Think. For instance, 99.9% of the rest of the world would spell it La Fayette or LaFayette and pronounce it like… y’know. The right way. NOPE. It’s La-fee-et. La Fontaine? Pronounce “l’fountain.” Russiaville? Pronounced Rooshaville (although that’s… a bit contentious.) Versailles? Better say that phonetically as “ver-sails.” Merrillville = meraville. Schererville = Sheraville. Hobart = hobert. There is a Houston, Indiana, but it’s pronounced “HOWston” for some god forsaken reason. Terre Haute is “tear-a-hote.” (Can you tell there were a shitload of French fur trappers here?) Monticello is pronounced “monnisello.” Delphi? “Delf-eye.”
4. We have the following interstates: 465, 65, 70, 74, 69 (nice), 469, a little bit of 64 to the south, and WAAAAYYYYY up north you get bits of 90 & 80/94 (yes that’s the same interstate in Indiana no I don’t know why). All of them are FUCKING NIGHTMARES because when it’s construction season (read: approximately April-November) every single road construction company needs to get their grubby little hands all over every inch of interstate. A good chunk of 70 between Indianapolis and Terre Haute is down to one lane, 465 is a fucking mess, 65 from Lafayette to Indy has been under construction for Several Years and it is not going to stop anytime soon, 69 isn’t even DONE yet because they fired the first contractors working on it. How do I know this you ask??? I drive in this god forsaken state every day to make a living . It is hell lads
5. Alright, so, you don’t want to go out of state but you do want to do something. Cool. Go to Indianapolis I guess? Walk the canal, go shopping at the Keystone mall, or in Carmel. You could go to Santa Claus, a real town in southern Indiana, which is home to Holiday World! It’s… actually a pretty dope amusement park lmao. If it’s Memorial Day weekend and you want to be outside in the throes of a crowd and probably absolutely TRASHED you could go to the Indy 500! It’s the ✨biggest event in racing✨ and we make a HUGE deal about it because nothing else happens in this state other than like. Crime. (Note: if you are intending to visit this city irl, like. Why? But also please do not walk around the canal or downtown Indianapolis after dark. No I am not kidding. In the place I lived before I heard gunshots all the time, and if you live in Indianapolis you Know. Just. Be careful lmao)
6. The weather is wholly unpredictable. The weather man may seem to know what he’s talking about, but take any forecast with a huge grain of salt. The forecast for the day could say 75 and sunny for a week, but when the day comes it could well be fucking -3 and snowing. Layers are your friend, and expect it to rain always.
7. Speaking of which, you like tornados? We get ‘em! Not only that, but it is a Hoosier pastime to get a beer and sit out on the porch and watch storms roll in, even as the tornado sirens are blaring in the background telling us to go inside. Until I see that funnel cloud barreling directly at me, I will be outside watching the weather come in. This is best done if you live in a somewhat rural area surrounded with a lot of corn fields, which… is not hard to find. There (is? Was? The operation status of this place is unclear) an amusement park called Indiana Beach and their tagline was literally “there’s more than corn in Indiana” (which is a fucjing lie)
8. This place is deeply Republican. Unless you are in a specific small liberal area (Indianapolis, West Lafayette, Bloomington, etc) you will be surrounded by trump flags and evangelicals. That’s unfortunately just how it is. My mom has called this state the “middle finger of the south.”
9. Our major universities include Purdue (West Lafayette), Indiana University (Bloomington), Notre Dame (technically its own town, but really South Bend), Indiana State University (Terre Haute), Ball State (Muncie), Butler (Indianapolis), Rose Hulman (Terre Haute), and University of Indianapolis (bet you can’t guess), among others. We have a lot of universities??? We also have MANY campuses of Ivy Tech, a community college.
10. So much limestone. SO much limestone
11. Bloomington has a Tibetan monastery
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