#Sign Writing Bromley

[frbdesignandsign]

Sign Makers Company Bromley - As the best Sign Makers Bromley with them, FRB Design and Sign is a leading Signage Company Bromley offering custom sign writing for vehicles and shops. Feel free to call us 0 7724 230 499 or write to us joe@frbdesignandsign.co.uk, in order to discuss the exact requirements you have.

[langdxn]

OMGGG PLEASE WRITE FOR STAN ✨✨🖤🖤

well if you insist...

off the record | stan bowes x reporter!reader

WARNINGS: pretty graphic smut, fingering, vaginal sex, pet names errywhere, trump mentions, dom!stan

WORDS: 2.9k (excessive but necessary)

A/N: 110% not proofread yet so apologies for any errors which i’ll fix tomorrow.

The hustle and bustle of 5th Avenue spared Stan the embarrassment of leaving a torturous meeting at work. Tumbling out into the chaos of the New York streets offered him the anonymity he craved after a confrontation with Matt, the ability to blend in amongst the faces that couldn’t recognise him from the next suited, briefcase-toting businessman.

Bursting out of the doors to Trump Towers, Stan dropped his briefcase and rinsed his face with both hands, pressing his fingers to his eyes in a vain attempt to wipe away the day he’d just had. In that moment, no eyes were trained on him, no pressure on his shoulders, no demands of his time.

That is, until a sugary voice broke the crowd’s monotonous buzz.

“Trouble in economic paradise, honey?”

Stan’s hands dropped to his side as he searched for the source of his interruption, eyes intently scanning the street until they fell upon you, leaning against the building’s opulent marble pillars at the entrance.

“Sorta,” he mumbled under his breath, a grimace gently tapering his lips as he gazed down at his shoes. In an attempt to avoid your attentions, he trained his sights on a particularly worn paving slab. His distraction worked right up until your heels clacked toward him and planted right on his slab, the smoke from your cigarette swirling in his peripheral vision — there was no avoiding you, no matter how hard he tried. Stan’s head raised to meet your gaze, his deep brown eyes betraying a sadness and insecurity he may never put into words.

“I hear Mr Trump can be a harsh master,” you goaded your victim into spilling his guts, taking a deep puff of your cigarette before blowing it back to hover over his brown curls like a makeshift halo.

“I... I wouldn’t know, I barely see him,” Stan confessed, grabbing his suitcase and nodded toward the street. “Now if you’ll excuse me, Miss.”

Time for drastic action. The brunette stepped toward the street, ready to dismiss this exchange and continue his day.

“I smoke out here to drive your boss up the wall, you know,” you called after him, booming over the hubbub on 5th Avenue. “Admittedly he doesn’t come out much, but that jerk-off on the 41st floor certainly reads me for dirt every Friday night. What’s his name, Matt Bromley?”

Stan stopped in his tracks.

“Oh, so you know him too?” You pressed, pacing toward him with a staccato clack of your heels.

“He’s my superior, or at least he pretends to be,” Stan turned to face you, that same pained smirk dancing across his cheeks as his voice cracked between sentences. “Be careful around him, yeah? He’s not exactly one of the nice guys.”

“You’re telling me,” you scoffed, taking another swift drag while tipping your head to the side. “Luckily if he laid a finger on me, I’d put it front page of the Post and he’d never work in this overpriced dump again.”

“You’re a reporter?” Stan’s eyebrows quirked, intrigued but nonetheless concerned. Should he even be talking to a reporter like this? Will every word that passes his lips end up on tomorrow’s front page? He shook his head to dismiss any suspicious thoughts, he certainly didn’t have the headspace for that yet.

“For now,” you admitted with a pout and an eye-roll. “Your asshole ‘superior’ tries to rectify that on a regular basis. Keeps telling my boss I’m soliciting outside Trump Tower instead of reporting. Always digging through my personal life and not coming up with so much as an overdue rental VHS. Someday my editor will believe him, but I’m on my last warning as it is.”

“Seriously?” Stan’s smirk grew more sympathetic with the realisation one more life was being wrecked by the man he had the misfortune of sharing a floor with. “That’s pretty crazy.”

“That’s Manhattan, honey,” you smiled warmly at him. “Don’t worry, I’m not doorstepping you, I just happened to be here on a tip-off.”

“A tip-off? What sort of—.”

Stan cut himself off on hearing the approach of a familiar obnoxious voice on a cell phone booming in the golden foyer behind your exchange.

“Shit, that’s Bromley,” Stan panicked, suddenly grasping your arm and leading you away from the door, casting your half-smoked cigarette to the kerb. “Let’s get you outta here.”

“My nameless knight in shining armour,” you chuckled to yourself, somehow instincively following his lead on the street until you merged with the throngs of passers-by. “Where are we going, sweetie?”

“My name’s Stan Bowes, and I have absolutely no idea where we’re going.”

———

“You don’t look like a Stan,” you mused at the businessman seated across the table from you, tapping your chin with a finger as you contemplated alternative monikers. “More like a... Colin? Peter? Yeah, you’re a Peter—.”

“Can we just... rewind here?” Stan interrupted, eyes darting frantically at your surroundings, scanning the faces at the other tables. “D’ya mind explaining to me why we’re in a Five Guys right now?”

“You’ll thank me later, toots,” you quickly dismissed his objection as you swirled your soda cup in your other hand. “You think your psycho friend from the 41st floor’s gonna look for you in a diner? He’ll go straight to the Plaza... or even Indochine. Never a Five Guys. Plus, I needed somewhere I can afford to pay the bill so the Trump Organisation expense account doesn’t feel the burn.”

A wordless nod and raised eyebrow from your company suggested his silent approval, but his hands idly toying with the burger before him betrayed his confidence in your genius escape plan. Folding the lettuce edging out from beneath the bun, tugging at the rings of onion and nervously picking the sesame seeds from the top.

“You never told me what your tip-off was. What were you doing outside my work?” Stan raised his manhandled burger to his mouth, daring to undo all the strategic dismantling he’d just put into action.

“Somebody told the office that the blonde egomaniac at the top of your food chain is planning to run for president.”

Stan nearly choked on his first bite, resisting the temptation to spit it out in shock. “You’ve gotta be kidding me!”

“‘Fraid not.”

“That... that can’t be true, he’s too busy with the plans to buy the Plaza two blocks away.”

“The Plaza?!” Your inquisitive voice changed pitch.

“Yeah, didn’t you know?” Stan screwed up his face. “Wait— you’re not gonna print this, are you?”

“I’m not here to rat you out,” You raised both surrendering hands in the space between you. “See? No notebook, no tape recorder, no agenda. It’s just me and you, baby.”

The brown haired man smiled warmly, visibly releasing the tension in his shoulders, comforted that he wasn’t being examined.

“So if you’re not here for business, why is a beautiful girl like you talking to me? I’m nothing special, I’m just a guy in an overpriced suit.”

Caving into the temptation to look him up and down, your gaze wandered to Stan’s hands, gently trembling as he held his burger.

“Because I like you, Peter,” you grinned at the sound of your company’s new moniker. “You and that suit. But you’re so much more than that suit, you know.”

“Eh, I’m not so sure about that. Matt doesn’t seem to think so either.”

“Screw what Bromley the office bully thinks,” you slammed the table with your palm. “This is about you. The guy who stopped to talk to a girl who looked like she was hustling outside your building, the guy who’s not afraid to sit in a diner with a total stranger to save her from his coworker. Face it, Peter, you’re one of the good guys.”

His lips tapered into a warm smile. “Thank you, miss, for not jumping to conclusions about me.”

“Don’t get me wrong, the pinstripes suit you. They’d look better on my floor, but...”

Stan immediately looked up from his food to your eyes, scanning for any sign of humour or any chance you were just trying to make him feel better.

“Did you just—?”

“I think I did!” You giggled, a hint of disbelief in your own words. “Is that a problem?”

Frozen in the moment, Stan just stared at you for a minute. His next move was exhilaratingly unpredictable, leaving your heart rate thundering in your ears, but something about the shimmer in his eyes suggested you wouldn’t have to worry.

“Peter, what’s wrong, did I—?”

You were cut off by Stan’s lips crashing into yours, lunging over the table and hooking a hand around your neck to draw you in. His kiss deepened with every second, dipping his nose into your cheek and moaning softly into your mouth. As you parted, his ear-to-ear grin beamed back to mirror yours.

“Yuppies don’t kiss like that,” you joked.

“You should see me in the bedroom,” he retorted with a laugh.

“Deal.”

———

Hollywood movies were right about one thing: sex in the throes of passion often starts in the same way — bundling through your lover’s uptown hotel room with your legs wrapped around his waist while he juggles his keycard, both peppering sloppy open-mouthed kisses and showering each other with distracted affection until he drops you onto the satin sheets.

Stan, courteous as ever, gently placed you on the sprawling bed without his lips leaving yours, crawling between your thighs before thinking how to undress himself. With both his hands preoccupied passionately lacing into your hair, you grasped at the hem of your dress to take it off yourself.

“Hold on, princess,” he muttered into your mouth, immediately untangling a hand to trace down your figure and met your attempts to hitch your skirt. “Let me strip you.”

Stan thumbed at the edge of the fabric, savouring the moment before you became so much more than a beautiful stranger to him, before slowly rolling your dress up, passing your neck and whipping it over your head to limit the time before he could kiss you again.

“Peter, are you sure about this?” You queried out of respect while casting aside his evidently expensive belt, tearing his braces from his shoulders and laying waste to his shirt buttons.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” he hummed against your lips between hot and ragged breaths. “And my name’s not fucking Peter.”

Stan made light work of yanking your panties down to your knees around him, unhooking them from one leg for quicker access and throwing the bundle of lace across the room, soon followed by your bra. In the blur of clothes flying, you tackled his suit pants down to his knees and slipped his silk boxers to join them. The less you thought about those silk boxers, the better.

With no clothes left between you, Stan pressed his bare chest against yours, his heart racing so fast it could burst out of his rib cage.

A needy groan erupted in his throat as he tore his lips away from yours, journeying to pepper heated kisses down your throat, sucking gently as his lips reached your collarbone and followed south to your breasts. While his tongue expertly swirled around one nipple, his hand travelled to the other and kneaded hungrily, gently rolling the hardening bud between his thumb and forefinger.

Your soft moan as he sucked harder gave him the signal to trail his fingers down your frame, his palm traversing the plane of your hips before he reached your exposed clit, tracing lazy circles around your bundle of nerves. Your back arched wildly into his touch, reaching a hand to wind into his brown curls when your helpless, urgent moans grew in volume.

“Don’t worry baby girl, I won’t leave you hanging much longer,” Stan whispered through a satisfied smile against your breast. “I just need to taste you first.”

His circling finger journeyed south to track around your folds, swollen and pulsing in anticipation of his next move. Slowly dipping the tip of his finger through your soaking entrance, your hips bucked upwards and instinctively widened your legs beneath him.

“That’s my good girl, spread yourself wide for me.” Stan’s eyelids fluttered excitedly, adding another finger inside your aching cunt and hooking both to graze your soft walls. His lips left your nipple so he could gaze at your form writhing beneath him, completely at his mercy.

His curled fingers pressed urgently into your walls, building an uncontrollable pressure within you and forcing your eyes to roll to the ceiling. Stan noticed you nearing ecstasy and immediately withdrew his dripping fingers, raising them to his lips and pressing them to his tongue.

“I knew you’d taste like heaven,” he cooed gently, lifting up to dip his head into your neck placing searing hot kisses beneath your ear. “Cat got your tongue, Miss New York Post?”

“I... I...,” you stuttered weakly, your whole body alight with waves of heat and anticipation you’d never felt before. “I...”

“You’re not usually this quiet,” Stan whispered. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

“I... need... you...”

He hummed contentedly, trailing his hand south to line the head of his cock with your throbbing entrance.

“What’s that, princess? You want me to fuck you?” Stan questioned with false innocence, a devious smirk plumping his cheeks. “You’ve been such a good girl waiting for me, I think you’ve earned it.”

In one smooth rock of his hips, Stan’s length slipped through your folds and bottomed out inside you. Your eyes journeyed to the ceiling as he filled you, spine arching recklessly craving more friction. He drew his hips back slowly, but his next thrust slammed his cock inside you so hard, you let out a hollow gasp.

“I know baby, I know,” Stan comforted you, curling his hips to ensure every thrust brushed the tip of his length against your deepest points and revelling in your squirms under him. “You’re taking me so well.”

Lost for words in the stars emerging in the corners of your eyes, you remained speechless as Stan broke down every single one of your weaknesses and turned you into putty in his hands. Jerking uncontrollably and sinking your head back into the pillow with every devastating thrust, Stan kissed your exposed neck and moaned deeply. Seizing his opportunity, both hands flew to lightly grasp your throat, his thumbs calmly resting on your windpipe — his aim wasn’t to choke you, just to hold onto you enough to assert his ownership of you, claiming you as you writhed beneath him. He leaned back to admire his work of unravelling you, possessing you.

“Look at you,” he hummed through a grin, not missing a single beat of his determined thrusts. “You’re so, so beautiful.”

Chasing you to your height of ecstasy once more, Stan’s staccato rhythm jackhammered into you at the same rate as the tremors consuming your body beneath his. Your vision of his bouncing brown curls above you started to fade behind the glittering haze taking over your mind. Fighting for consciousness, you stuttered a hollow cry for release as you approached your climax.

“Stan, I— I need to... I’m gonna cu—.”

“It’s okay baby, I’ve got you,” Stan reassured, wrapping an arm around your neck and pulling you into his chest as his hips grew frantic and sloppy. “Let go for me.”

With a deep growl and a final erratic thrust, Stan spilled against your walls, flooding warmth inside you that sent your head dipping into the pillows. His lips gently pecked your throat again as he poured his length back to the depths of your pussy, pushing his load as far inside you as possible.

Emerging from the depths of the pillow as you regained control of your legs wrapped around his waist, Stan slowly drew his hips back and slipped his length out from your swollen folds, his gaze dropping to your entrance as if making sure his cum wouldn’t drip out. Content that he hadn’t left any suspicious stains on the hotel sheets, Stan returned to gaze into your eyes and beamed from ear to ear.

“You... you called me Stan?” He quizzed while tumbling down to the pillow beside you, a puzzled eyebrow quirking beneath beads of sweat.

“You called me princess,” you retaliated with a joking tap of his chest. “I think we’re equal here, don’t you?”

Stan chuckled to himself and turned to face you, propping his head up with an exhausted, trembling hand. A palpable silence fell as he composed his next sentence.

“Was this, er... would you... can you...,” He stumbled nervously over his words; his assertive alter ego must have left as soon as he came.

“Cat got your tongue, Mr Trump Organi—“

“Stay.”

Your gaze dropped to your chest as you laughed it off. “As much as I’d love to, I got the feeling this was just a one-off for you?”

“That’s what I thought you wanted, too,” Stan confirmed with a quirked eyebrow.

Chuckling to yourself, you shook your head to dismiss all the worries that the dapper businessman would make you do the walk of shame once he’d finished.

“Then I’ll stay, sugar,” you beamed, settling into Stan’s chest as he scooped his arm beneath your head.

“We’ll get room service to dry clean your dress and I’ll drive you to work in the morning, if that’s okay?” Stan’s courteous streak had definitely returned.

You smiled broadly, nodding against Stan’s chest and swooping an arm around his waist.

“Besides, now you can tell me all about that presidential tip-off you had,” he quizzed. “Trump may be an extremely powerful guy, but he’s never gonna be president…”

[blissfulbroadway]

Alfred Nathaniel Hallam III Headcanons!!!

YES his name is Alfred Nathaniel Hallam yes he is a third no I do not take criticism

Childhood:

- Alfie got pneumonia as an infant. It messed up his lungs A Lot and affected his immune system and stuff as well so as a child he was constantly sick. 

- He was in and out of hospital a lot and had a few surgeries so he was always on bed rest and isolated to everyone until he was about four years old. 

- All of his medical issues caused his mum, Elizabeth Hallam, to dote on him a lot and suffocate him a bit. His father, Alfred Hallam II was the opposite and became pretty detached from being a father figure to Alfie. 

- At a very young age, Alfred was introduced to stories since he couldn’t go anywhere. He was constantly reading in bed and learning often. Also his father made him study German just for funsies. 

- His grandfather Wally, or Alfred Hallam I, introduced Alfred to Alice’s Adventures In Wonderland when he was three. Wally re-enacted the story to him in hospital a lot, and it inspired Alfred to fall in love with the story and take on the characters as his own. Wally got him his own copy after an especially difficult surgery, as well as a stuffed rabbit called Baby because he’s a three year old and it’s his little baby bunny :-) (he still ends up traveling with it as an adult and can’t leave without him). 

- Around that time, his parents had his little brother, Elias (named after their mum) to be a backup plan or new start because they didn’t think Alfred would be much worth to them in the future. Yes they are shitty I know :/ 

- His parents have very very very high expectations for him because he’s now the older brother who has to do everything and he’s not their spoiled sick baby boy. They let Eli be a little shit and do anything he wants (like any little sibling but multiplied by like 10) while Alfie was expected to be the perfect child who dressed, acted, looked, and spoke the way they wanted. 

- Alfie and his parents are very posh sounding because they live in Bromley, but he has a slight northern twang because of his grandfather. His parents hate it. 

- When he’s four years old, after a long period of bedrest, Alfred is allowed to play alone outside, and he meets Alice. They refer to that day as their Golden Afternoon because it was the day they became the best of friends, and Alfred introduced Alice’s Adventures In Wonderland to her. (At first Alice was probably like Who are you and what are you doing in my backyard and Alfred is just SO EXCITED to introduce his favorite storybook in his entire existence so she budges and let’s him share his world with her)

- Alfie is a huge bookworm and while he adores learning and reading, his infatuation for learning mathematics (mostly so he could impress his father and maybe he would love him more if he knew “Big Kid Things” yes I know 🥺🥺🥺) manifested into an obsession with time, as well as the fear of being late or running out of time. He was surrounded by the idea of death from a young age and it influenced the way he thought about himself and what might happen to him if he didn’t listen to his parents. Their pressure brought out his anxiety disorder and depression at a very young age and it sticks with him throughout the rest of his life. His escape from all that death and sadness was Alice’s Adventures because he could always reset the clock at the end of the book and start again. 

- When he’s five, Alfie spends some of his rich kid allowance on a copy of Alice’s Adventures In Wonderland for Alice, and in return she buys him a pocket watch a few years later. He adores it and never ever takes it off even as an adult. 

- Alfred avoids his own home a lot and spends time with Alice in their conjoined backyard, playing pretend and acting out their story together. Sometimes, they spent the days inside her house (Mama Hallam is good friends with the Spencer parents, so she doesn’t mind them watching Alfie) and Alfred is well acquainted with Mr. and Mrs. Spencer enough where he considers them paternal figures...sort of. (Mr. Spencer is lowkey highkey Alfred’s bisexual awakening, and he’s one of Alfred’s first crushes; it doesn’t help that his own father constantly criticizes him and his interests or is absent from his life doing slimy rich man things. Daddy issues.)

- Mr. Spencer is a book lover (possibly librarian? Also sometimes professor :-)) and so he’s constantly discussing stories with Alfred and Alice on an intellectual level fit for the both of them. Most adults treat them like small children, so Alfred loves the attention. 

- When Mr. Spencer dies in their early teenagehood, Alice and Alfred get incredibly attached to their storybook, and they find more comfort in it than ever. His death launched Alfred’s struggles with eating and sleeping, as well. 

- This is one of the harder periods of time for Alfred, as he and Alice didn’t have any friends aside from each other. They’re incredibly codependent on one another. 

- Mamie Van Eysen flirts with Alfred a lot during this time, but only as a joke. Either that, or she makes fun of his body and his personality—both in front of Alice, to make Alfred uncomfortable and Alice jealous. Other students bully him and Alice often. 

- A lot of Alfie’s self image issues stem from this time, and his anxiety and depression worsen. 

- When Alice’s mum dies when they’re fifteen, the pair runs away together. Alice almost gets assaulted, and Alfred wants to protect her. He gets into a giant fistfight with the older man. It’s bad enough to the point where the man is arrested and Alfred is hospitalized; it’s the hardest period he’s ever spent in hospital, even after all of his childhood issues. The police bring Alice and Alfred home and Alfred is banned from visiting Alice for a while. They communicate by speaking through the windows straight across from one another, or holding up signs from the window seats. While Alfred is healing, Mama Hallam is extra overbearing and critical to the point of being toxic and unhealthy for Alfred. His brother gets really mean around this time, too, as he doesn’t get the attention he once had. His and Alfred’s relationship get really rocky, and it’s never really mended in the future. 

- The day Alice and Alfred can officially reunite, they never separate and they’re stuck at the hip from this point forward. 

- When Alfred isn’t hanging out with Alice, he is at his grandfather’s hat shop, helping him stock or sell products. He puts his money towards a secret emergency fund in case he runs away again—this time without Alice. Alfred can never get past the front door, though. 

University:

- When they reach uni, Alfie majors in mathematics and education, and minors in literature and statistics. He finds joy and love in his studies again, even if school itself affects his mental health. 

- Alfred doesn’t want to be dependent on his parents, so he gets a job at a coffee shop and writes essays on the side for money. His caffeine addiction is dangerous at this point, and he often finds himself not eating or sleeping until it’s physically impossible not to take care of himself. 

- Alfred puts all of his money towards renting an apartment with none other than Miss Tabatha Dedwin!!

- He and Tabbie are flatmates. Since Tabbie is best friends with Dodgy Dawkins, he meets him, as well. They’re friends for good after that, and that’s when Alfred starts to wind down, smoking with them, as well as his Alice. 

Adulthood:

- After university, Alfred gets official treatment and is able to change his eating habits and caffeine addiction. 

- Alfred learns about emotional support animals and gets a Giant Flemish Rabbit named Ollie to be his support animal. He’s giant and blue-eyed and looks like the spitting image of Alfred’s beloved White Rabbit. He’s a cutie. 

- Alfred also did a little bit of gardening when he was getting treatment, and once he’s home he gets all sorts of plants and becomes a Plant Dad (with lots of research, of course!)

- In his mid twenties, Alfred finishes his extra schooling and becomes a primary school teacher. He blossoms into a happy, mostly healthy bisexual man with lots of plants and a sweet pet bunny and he wears funky disastrous outfits and has an amazing support system!!! (Alice, Wally, Tabs, and Dodgy :-) also Wally’s lover Denny the carpenter who comes out to Alfred when he’s an adult. He’s super shook but he gets even closer to Wally because they’re more similar than he believed)

- When he’s prob like 30 he goes to more school and becomes a university professor in the end of his years! Depending on who he ends up with he possibly has a few kids and a bunny and life is good!!! He’s teaching and learning constantly and it’s the life he’s always wanted even if his parents never accept his Christmas cards and his brother doesn’t answer his calls. He’s happier than he’s ever been. 

- Also don’t tell Sage but when Alfie’s older his health problems catch up to him and he dies a relatively young death due to complications with his lungs :-( rip to my main man Alf

Little Headcanons:

- Alfie is the Biggest animal person besides maybe Tabbie. The ONLY exception is geese because one time he tried to feed a goose was brutally attacked by a goose and is afraid of them. He prob does birdwatching in his free time too 

- Alfred’s fashion is HORRENDOUS @dodgefred and I made it up forever ago that he was a fashion disaster and ofc Colton’s costume...moving on. The reasoning for his fashion is he just picks pieces that make him happy that day and he sticks with it it doesn’t matter if he matches he’s just vibing.

- He reads his kids bedtime stories and he’s so devoted to being the father his own dad never ever was - When he becomes a professor it’s probably to teach Calculus and while his class makes people cry Very Often Alfie as a teacher himself is very very empathetic and comforting and yeah math is a bitch but he’ll take time out of his lunch breaks and extends his office hours way past the set time to help a student!!! He’s such a comfort to LGBT+ students and he probably has a few he discusses gay discourse in literature with (Tabbie absolutely introduced him to lesbian literature also also this isn’t a Tabs post but she stans Shakespeare :-)). Professor Alfie is the weird quirky prof. who stresses you out sometimes but also he goes on long tangents about his interests and how much he loves his significant other or children or baby bunny child Ollie!! He has so many plants and books in his classroom too it’s a Lot.

- Wayyyyy into theatre but he didn’t pursue acting onstage because his dad is homophobic :/ but he was in charge of lighting in school productions and fell in love with the stage

- He helps his friends study by acting out their textbooks for them and they always always ace their tests

- MUG COLLECTOR!!! He has so many mugs it’s not even funny his entire cupboard is taken over by them honestly 

- Virgin who can’t drive 

- Such a cursed and baseless hc I’m So Sorry but his first crush was the tomato from Veggie Tales 

- Going off the last point he grew up in a Catholic household and he had one of those mums who was like you are Not allowed to watch tv unless it’s like. Veggie Tales or the Little Einsteins

- Alfie plays piano!!!! Also he did ballet when he was younger but he left because it was super bad for his mental and physical wellbeing and is convinced he’s a bad dancer because of his poor experience with the art

- Alice calls Alfred her Bunnie and he calls her My Alice/Allie/Allie Cakes

The end :-)

[eschercaine]

A Snippet for DamiRae AU: Dark Side Damian

Damian knew he couldn’t trust Tara. He approached Grayson once about his suspicions but he dismissed it. He needs proof.

And when the training incident happened, he approached Grayson again, this time, with Raven as his back-up. Damian could have thanked her for having his back, but to his dismay he dismissed the topic again and for a final time.

“She needs to be watched, Grayson.”

“She needs understanding, not surveillance. Terra has her rough edges, but Kori thinks she’s worth it. And I agree.”

“Making decisions with your heart will get people killed.”

So, he choose to trust the traitor rather than me… his “brother”? What a fool!

Tired of being held down, Damian finally decided to take matters into his own hands. As a result, he was captured by Deathstroke… and Tara.

The traitor.

Looking back… he muses how pathetic he must have been… getting captured by his old enemy.

His grandfather and his mother must be rolling in their grave right now.

He could laugh if he wanted to… but he doesn’t care anymore.

After three days of recovering from his injuries he received from Slade, Damian didn’t join the team, either for training, eating, or for patrolling. They’re busy mourning for the traitor to care about him. And if they noticed his strange behavior… he couldn’t care less.

Because it doesn’t matter.

Currently, he secluded himself in his room, staring at Slade’s mask in his hands, which he managed to recover before the Blood’s compound collapsed.

Damian just sulks there all day… with several voices ringing inside his head. And he knows exactly who they belonged to.

His father… “We don’t kill.”

Slade… “Losing you edge. Your friends have made you soft.”

His grandfather… “Your friends have made you soft. Ungrateful child. You could have been immortal, like me.”

And his mother… “You’re no use to me like this. Recalcitrant, emotional. Your father’s influence, no doubt.”

There’s no sign of his. Batman, Slade, Talia, Ra’s… but where am I?

And the more remains silent, the louder the voices become… but not Batman’s.

“Grandson of the Demon’s Head, you are not. You’re an entitled brat! You cost me my rightful place.”

“Your friends have made you soft. Ungrateful child.”

“Recalcitrant, emotional. You’re father’s influence, no doubt.”

“You’re soft!”

“Weak!”

“I’m not weak!”

He must have realized he’d shouted because he heard knocking and muffled voices at the door.

It’s them.

“Hey, Damian, it’s me. Are you okay in there?” It’s Grayson’s.

For some reason, his blood runs hot, despite the heat of the day.

“I’m fine, thanks for asking,” Damian replied sarcastically.

“I knew we’ve been through a lot these past few days. But Damian, I just wanted you to know… that– if there’s anything we can do, you know–”

“I said I’m fine!” Damian shouted, then reaches for his katana placed on his bed and throws it against the door. “Now, leave me alone!”

I don’t need their pity. How pathetic I must be.

His grandfather’s voice rings inside his head. “Compassion is for the weak. Have you forgotten your heritage? You are an al Ghul!”

He took a few deep breaths before deciding what he must do.

Later that night, he left the Titan’s tower undetected, carrying his trusty katana and donning his League of Assassin’s uniform, leaving Slade’s mask and his Robin uniform behind.

—

This snippet is based from Damian’s POV. I hope you like it!

I've spent my time listening to these songs while writing this fic.

In The End [Linkin Park Cover] (feat. Fleurie & Jung Youth) // Produced by Tommee Profitt

EPIC POP | “Open Your Eyes” by Jules Bromley (feat. Victoria Beaumont)

[dustedmagazine]

Punk’d History, Vol. VIII: This Machine [blank] Fascists

Photo by Richard Young

It has the appearance of a worrisome pattern: any number of punk rock’s founding figures embraced the symbolics of Nazi Germany. Ron Asheton, an original and indispensable member of the Stooges, played a number of gigs wearing a red swastika armband, and liked to sport Iron Cross medals and a Luftwaffe-style leather jacket. Sid Vicious loved his bright scarlet, swastika-emblazoned tee shirt, and Siouxsie Sioux, during her tenure as the It-Girl of the Bromley Contingent, mixed her breast-baring, black leather bondage gear with a bunch of “Nazi chic.” And how many early Ramones songs (inevitably penned by Dee Dee) referenced Nazi gear, concepts and geography? “Blitzkrieg Bop,” “Today Your Love, Tomorrow the World,” “Commando,” “It’s a Long Way Back to Germany,” “All’s Quiet on the Eastern Front,” and so on—for sure, more than a few.

“Appearance” is the key term. Poor Sid lacked the sobriety and smarts to have much of a grasp of fascism as an ideology. Siouxsie was just taking the piss, and gleefully pissing off the mid-1970s British general public, for much of whom World War II was still a living memory. Asheton and Dee Dee? Both were sons of hyper-masculine military men. Asheton’s father was a collector of WWII artefacts, and the guitarist shared his father’s fascination. When the Stooges adopted an ethos and aesthetic hostile to the late-1960s prevailing Flower Power rock’n’roll subculture, the Nazi accoutrement seemed to him fitting signs of the band’s anger and alienation. Dee Dee hated his father, an abusive Army officer who married a German woman. Dee Dee spent some of his youth in post-war West Germany, in which Nazi symbols were highly charged with anxiety and vituperation. Casual veneration of Nazis was a convenient way to reject the triumphal ennobling of the Good War, and of the military men associated with its traditions. And (as Sid, Siouxsie and Asheton also noticed) it really bothered the squares. 

None of that makes the superficial use of the swastika or phrases like “Nazi schatzi” any less offensive — it simply underscores that in the cases noted above, the offense was the thing. The politics weren’t even an afterthought, because the political itself had been dismissed as corrupt, boring or simply the native territory of the very people the punks were striking out against. If that’s where the relation between punk and fascism ceased, there wouldn’t be much more to write about.

The post-punk moment in England provided opportunities to rethink and restrategize the nascent détournement of Siouxsie’s fashionable provocations. Genesis P-Orridge and the rest of Throbbing Gristle were a brainy bunch, and their play with fascist signifiers was a good deal more complex. The band’s logo and their occasional appearance in gun-metal grey uniforms clearly alluded to Nazism, with its attendant, keen interests in occult symbols and High Modernist representational languages. TG’s visual gestures were also of a piece with an early band slogan: “Industrial music for industrial people.” Clearly “industrial people” can be read as a highly ironized coupling: the oppressed workers marching through the bowels of Metropolis were a sort of industrial people, reduced to the functionality of pure human capital. TG seemed to impose the same analysis on the middle-managers of Britain’s post-industrial economy, and their uncritical complicity in capital’s cruelties. But it’s also possible to argue that industrial people are industrious people; like TG, industrial people (middle managers, MPs) can get a lot of stuff done. They can produce things. They can make the trains run on time. And what sorts of cargo might those trains be carrying? What variety of conveyance delivered the naked “little Jewish girl” of “Zyklon B Zombies” to her fate?  

To be clear: I don’t mean at all to suggest that TG was a fascist band. Like their punky contemporaries, TG traded in fascist iconography in a spirit of transgressive outrage, expressing their hot indignation with equally heated symbols. And other British post-punk acts flirted with fascist themes and images, ranging from ambiguous dalliance (Joy Division’s overt references to Yehiel De-Nur’s House of Dolls and to Rudolph Hess; and just what was the inspiration for Death in June’s band name?) to more assertive satire (see Current 93’s appealingly bonkers Swastikas for Noddy [LAYLAH Antirecords, 1988]). But a more problematic populist undercurrent in British punk persisted through the late 1970s. The dissolution of Sham 69—due in large part to the National Front’s attempts to appropriate the band’s working-class anger as a form of white pride—opened the way for a clutch of clueless, cynical or outright racist Oi! bands to attempt to impose themselves as the face of blue-collar English punk. And literally so: the Strength through Oi! compilation LP (Decca Records, 1981) featured notorious British Movement activist Nicky Crane on its cover. It didn’t help that the record’s title seemed to allude to the Nazis’ “Strength through Joy [Kraft durch Freude]” propaganda initiative.  

Of course, it’s unfair to tar all Oi! bands with an indiscriminate brush. A few bands whose songs were opportunistically stuck onto Strength through Oi! by the dullards at Decca Records — Cock Sparrer and the excellent Infa Riot — tended leftward in their politics, and were anything but racists. But for a lot of the disaffected kids sucking down pints of Bass and singing in the Shed at Stamford Bridge, it wasn’t much of a leap from the punk pathetique of the Toy Dolls to Skrewdriver’s poisonous palaver.  

In the States, a similarly complicated story can be recovered:

In numerous ways, hardcore intensified punk’s confrontational qualities, musically and aesthetically. The New York hardcore scene made a fetish of its inherent violence, which complemented the music’s sharpened impact. So it’s hard to know precisely what to make of the photo on the cover of Victim in Pain (Rat Cage Records, 1984). If inflicting violence was an essential element of belonging in the NYHC scene, with whom to identify: the Nazi with the pistol, or the abject Ukrainian Jewish man, on his knees and about to tumble into the mass grave?  

Agnostic Front seemed to provide a measure of clarity on the record, which included the song “Fascist Attitudes.” The lyric uses “fascist” as a condemnatory term. But the behaviors the song engages as evidence of fascism are intra-scene acts of violence: “Why should you go around bashing one another? […] / Learning how to respect each other is a must / So why start a war of anger, danger among us?” That’s a rhetoric familiar to anyone who participated in early-1980s hardcore; calls for scene unity were ubiquitous, and the theme is obsessively addressed on Victim in Pain. But the signs of inclusivity most visibly celebrated on the NYHC records and show flyers of the period were a skinhead’s white, shaven pate; black leather, steel-toe boots; and heavily muscled biceps. Those signifiers clearly link to the awful cover image of Strength through Oi! The forms of identity recognized and concretized in the songs’ first-person inclusive pronouns have a clear referent. 

Agnostic Front wasn’t the only NYHC band to refer to and engage World War Two-period fascism. Queens natives Dave Rubenstein and Paul Bakija met at Forest Hills High School—the same school at which John Cummings (Johnny) befriended Thomas Erdelyi (Tommy), laying the groundwork for the formation of the Ramones. Rubenstein and Bakija also took stage names (Dave Insurgent and Paul Cripple) and formed Reagan Youth. But unlike the Ramones, there was nothing tentative or ambivalent about Reagan Youth’s politics. Rubenstein’s parents, after all, were Holocaust survivors. The band’s name riffed on “Hitler Youth,” but specifically did so to draw associations between Reagan and Hitler, between American conservatism’s 1980s resurgence and the Nazi’s hateful, genocidal agenda. Songs like “New Aryans” and “I Hate Hate” accommodated no uncertainties.  

Still, it’s interesting that Victim in Pain and Reagan Youth’s Youth Anthems for the New Order (R Radical Records, 1984) were released only months apart, by bands in the same scene, sometimes sharing bills at CBGBs’ famous matinees of the period. And while Reagan Youth toured with Dead Kennedys, it’s Agnostic Front’s “Fascist Attitudes” that’s closer in content to the most famous punk rock putdown of Nazis.

It’s odd what comes back around: Martin Hannett, whom Biafra playfully chides at the track’s very beginning, produced much of Joy Division’s music, moving the band away from its brittle early sound to the fulsome atmospheres of the Factory records, and to a wider listenership. “Nazi Punks Fuck Off” similarly addresses a formerly obscure, tight scene opening to a greater array of participants, some of whom were attracted solely to hardcore’s reputation for violence. Like “Fascist Attitudes,” the Dead Kennedys’ song itemizes fighting at shows as its chief complaint, and as a principal marker for “Nazi” behavior. Biafra’s lyric eventually gets around to somewhat more focused ideological critique: “You still think swastikas look cool / The real Nazis run your schools / They’re coaches, businessmen, and cops / In a real fourth Reich, you’ll be the first to go.” The kiss-off to punk’s vapid romance of the swastika (it “looks cool”) complements the speculative treatment of a “real fourth Reich.” Both operate at the level of abstraction. The casual, superficial relation to the symbol’s aesthetic assumes a sort of safety from the real, material consequences of its application. And the emergence of a fascist political regime is dangled as a possible future event. That speculative futurity undoes the “real” in “real Nazis.” The threat is ultimately a metaphorical construct. The Nazis are metaphorical “Nazis.”  

Still, it’s the song’s chorus that resonates most powerfully. So much so that the song has found its way into other artworks.

Jeremy Saulnier’s Green Room (2015) is frequently identified as a horror film on streaming services. We could split hairs over that genre marker. The film gets quite graphically bloody, but there’s no psychotic slasher killer, no supernatural force at work. And cinematically, the film is a lot more interested in anxiety and dramatic tension than it is in inspiring revulsion or disgust. It terrifies, more than it horrifies. What’s especially compelling about the film (aside from Imogen Poots’ excellent performance, and Patrick Stewart’s menacing turn as charismatic fascist Darcy Banks) is its interest in embedding the viewer in a social context in which the Nazis are a lot less metaphorical, a lot more real. In Green Room, the kids in the punk band the Ain’t Rights are warned about the club they have agreed to play: “It’s mostly boots and braces down there.” And they understand the terms. What they can’t quite imagine is a room — a scene, a political Real — in which fascism is dominant. Their recognition of the stakes of the Real comes too late. The violence is already in motion. In that world, the Dead Kennedys song provides a nice slogan, but symbolic action alone is entirely inadequate.  

OK, sure, Green Room is a fiction. Its violence is necessarily aestheticized, distorted and hyperbolized. But perhaps the film’s most urgent source of horror can be located in its plausible connections to the social realities of our material, contemporary conjuncture. You don’t have to dig very deep into the Web to find thousands of records made by white nationalist and neo-fascist-allied bands, many, many of which deploy stylistic chops identified with punk rock and hardcore. You can listen. You can buy. (And yeah, I’m not going to link to any of that miserable shit, because fuck them. If you do your own digging to see what’s what, be careful. It’s scary and upsetting in there.) It feels endless. And the virulent sentiments expressed on those records are echoed in institutional politics in the US and elsewhere: Steve King (and now Marjorie Taylor Greene, effectively angling for her seat in Congress), Nigel Farage, Alternative für Deutschland, elected leadership in Poland and Hungary. Explicit white supremacist music also has somewhat more carefully coded counterparts in much more visible media (the nightly monologuing on Fox News) and in very well-positioned, prominent policy makers (Stephen Miller, who’s on the record touting “great replacement” theory and is a big fan of The Camp of the Saints). It’s a complex, ideologically coherent network, working industriously to impose and install its hateful vision as the dominant political Real. 

Sometimes it feels as if no progress at all has been made. Maybe we’re moving toward the reactionaries. Contrast Skokie in the late 1970s with Charlottesville in 2017. And now if the Neo-Nazis have licenses for their long guns, they can strut through American streets wearing them in the name of “law and order.” It’s even more disturbing that a subculture that wants to clothe itself in “revolution” and “radicalism” is so tightly in league with institutional politics. Say what you will about Siouxsie’s Nazi-fashion antics, no one suspected that her prancing echoed political activity, policy-making or messaging in Westminster.

So what’s a punk to do? It’s certain that a vigorously free society needs to preserve spaces in which unpopular speech can be uttered and exchanged. Punk should pride itself on defending those spaces. But speech that operates in conjunction with an ascendant political power and ideological agenda doesn’t need defense or energetic attempts to preserve its right to existence. In October of 2020, that speech (in this case, speeches being written by Miller, texts by folks who have spent time in Tucker Carlson’s writer’s room and songs by white supremacist hardcore bands) has become synonymous with political right itself.  

So now more than ever, it’s important to be active in the public square, to stand up to the fascists and to say it, often and out loud:

Jonathan Shaw

[anonymoushouseplantfan]

Would love to hear your predictions for the Africa tour. Thanks!

My big prediction is: SECOND PREGNANCY!!! Anyone else with me?

The UK press will threaten not to go because Brexit drama is in full swing, but they show up anyway because the Sussexes tell them that Meghan is preggo and they will get bump pics and Archie baby pics and Harry will walk through a minefield with a Halo vest like his mom did. Tim Rooke expresses skepticism but joins the tour anyway. Rebecca English skips the tour and covers PC and Camilla instead. Camilla Tominey skips the tour to focus on Brexit. Richard Palmer skips the tour because he has to wash his hair.

Jess pap-walks at Heathrow airport to get the “styling Meghan for her tour press” and show she’s totally not ghosted.

The reporters end up only getting shots of a baby-sized bump under an organic cotton baby blanket and Harry wears the vest, but does not walk through the minefield. Brexit drama overshadows the whole tour. The press ends up even more pissed than they were before.

Meghan bellycups, but not as much as in Australia.

They do a lot of behind-closed-doors events with pics released through their IG. They tell the press they are doing it to protect the baby and because Megs is pregnant and not feeling well. Chris Jackson takes all the pics. The press gets angrier and angrier. 

Meghan skips the outdoor events claiming she has to take care of the baby. Harry has to visit his surfing charity alone. He gets aggressive with the press and says something about the environment. 

They have a food event. Meghan talks about spices and distributes signed copies of her cookbook. A DM commenter asks why she didn’t write inspirational messages for the chefs on the decorative plantains.

Meghan doesn’t wear any South African brands and wears a hideously expensive couture gown to an embassy office party. She wears an item from her own collection and it gets more press than anything else she wears because her staff forgets to cut off the tag. Melanie Bromley shows she’s gone native by non-ironically using the phrase “bless her heart” on air.

Meghan orders that the normals be kept away from her and an “overzealous bodyguard” is blamed for it. Ken Wharfe hits the tabloid and morning show circuit telling everyone that Diana would have handled it better.

They take a private plane. Piers Morgan half-heartedly calls them hypocrites on television, but he doesn’t write a column about it because he’s too busy with Brexit.

Rumors about house-shopping abound. The DM reveals that Harry and Meghan went house-shopping and fell in love with a $200 million gated community villa on a cliff with a killer ocean view, and it will cost UK taxpayers a bazillion billion pounds a year to secure it. 

Meghan wears a see-through item of clothes. Omid writes a five-article explaining how it’s actually an optical illusion.

Harry visits Sentebale on his own.

The private plane, gated villa, and couture gown stories gain traction, so the Sussexes leak a fake story to Emily Andrews about how Harry bought take-out at a local Nando’s because Meghan had a craving. Richard Palmer calls Nando’s from London and they deny it.

They take Archie to meet a member of the Mandela family behind closed doors, and they post black-and-white pics taken by Chris Jackson and Mandela quotes on their IG. Even though the UK press was told there would be no press at the event because Archie has to be protected from evil reporters, someone from CBS magically appears on-site and Gayle King gets an exclusive. Omid explains that Gayle was vacationing in SA with her cameraman and she had no idea there was a tour going on. She ducked into the Mandela Museum to go to the restroom, was surprised to find Meghan there, and figured she might as well get a quick interview. A member fo the Mandela family defends Meghan and says the press criticisms are racist. 

Harry is sulky during the minefield engagement. They blame it on the mummy memories. Brexit drama overshadows everything. The minefield event is almost a bust, but Tim Rooke magically gets a pic of Harry that looks exactly like the iconic Diana pic and the day is saved.

The DM reveals that Meghan’s tour wardrobe cost 100,000 pounds.

A staff member quits after the trip. Actually, make that two.

[stonedaryl]

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[clemens92149kyle]

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[the-real-vera-jo-blog]

Where is your happy place? Where do you feel in peace? Where do you feel safe and genuinely comfortable?

My happy place is in the SKY. As silly as it sounds, I feel absolutely safe and free from all the worries when I’m 40 000 feet up. If you think of it further, I’m basically trapped inside a small metallic tube surrounded by the forces of the nature. I can’t explain it better than by saying my mind is in peace and I can’t think of a single thing to worry about up in the air.  I fear many things and situations on the ground however never had those feelings while flying. When you experience turbulence for 20 minutes or 2 hours not being able to go to the toilet or to leave your seat, it’s not something you wish for however I’d rather choose that as the biggest worry I have compared to the hustle that goes on the ground level. 🙂

I’ve always been fascinated by airplanes, flying and high towers. I had actually never flown until I turned 19 years old – since then I never stopped. Every year I fly more and more frequently. I started from 3 return flights per year and ended up flying up to 12 returns flights within a year. Now I’ve managed to start up my career in aviation therefore I might fly 2 return flights per day. 🙂 Flying is the transport method I use the most!

What is it exactly in flying that fascinates me so much? Everything! From going to the airport, knowing you’re about to head off somewhere – perhaps somewhere you’ve never been to before, taxiing to the runway, taking off, looking out of the window wondering all the landscape you left behind (I always have a window seat!!), just sitting on the plane while relaxing and writing stories, or staring out of the window while listening to your favourite music, to landing and touch down to the unknown (new destination you can’t wait to explore) or to the familiar place you’ve been missing.

It’s peaceful in the sky. Whatever you have waiting for you once landed or whatever happened before you took off, you’re in the sky and nothing can reach you there! You’re free from worries, overthinking, stress and anxiety…

The reason I mentioned anxiety is because recently I have been experiencing shaky hands and anxiety (increased heartbeat, sweating, confusion) in certain situations. It doesn’t last for long even though it feels like forever trying to calm yourself down (by controlling your thoughts). I only experience anxiety in situations where people try to scam me, argue or mistreat me. Unfortunately there’s a lot of corruption (small or big) in England therefore you might end up facing individuals who have their own best interest in mind no matter the consequences and any contracts you sign or any money you have to pay (eg. deposit). It is extremely hard o claim back in full as that’s when the corruption reaches its peak. When it comes to money – people, try and trick you or take advantage of anything they can. For so many times I had to fight for my basic rights – it gets tiring. However we MUST fight back. We can never give up, as long as there’s corruption, we must find the strength to battle and fight for our rights. Trust me, no one else will, unless you do. It relates to flying in the way, that I’m able to relax and to forget about the (sometimes) daily struggle and chores on the ground completely.

Taking off:

My mum told me taking off is like sitting in a Ferrari that’s speeding in the beginning of the race. She said some people are afraid of taking off as it’s such a high speed and you soon can’t feel the ground under your feet as it disappears.

I absolutely loved taking off since the first time I flew! It’s the same as breaking when landing – when you touchdown and realise how fast (minimum of 250 km/hr) the plane actually goes. It gets my adrenaline to rush into every single vain and for a short time I really feel like I’m ALIVE. While cruising in 40 000 feet altitude, it’s just calm and quiet. You’d never guess how fast the plane flies. But taking off and landing are the best parts of flying. 🙂

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Landing:

My mum warned me about experiencing pain in my ears. She advised me to have chewing gum and to yawn a lot.

I never realised what people meant by landing being painful – until I had sinusitis and had to fly back home (HKI to LHR). It really hurt and my right ear got blocked for the entire week. Once it finally popped, everything sounded too loud. Since then I’ve flown several times while being ill or on antibiotics. You can try Sudafed (nasal spray) but nothing really helps. You’ll just have to stand the pain until the aircraft has landed.

I always liked to just stare out of the window and watch planes passing by in the sky. Wondering where they were heading, where they took off from and spotting the airline. When I lived in the midlands of Finland, I didn’t see them regularly. It was something special to see a plane flying by. Once I moved to London, my first residence was in Bromley where I’d see planes landing and taking off from both Londo Gatwick (LGW) and London Heathrow (LHR). Every time I looked out from my bedroom window, I saw at least 5 planes in the sky. That’s something I still admire.

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While living in Wimbledon, I heard the aircraft noise louder than in other parts of London. I recently moved very close to one of the airports in London. I can literally see the runway from my bedroom window. Anytime one lands or takes off, I say the airline out loud. (Ok, not every single time as it would mean couple of times every single minute 🙂 ) It’s a dream come true, to live so close to an airport and to be able to drive home when an airplane is landing few meters above the car on the highway. Also, to only have a 10-minute-drive to the airport, work or pleasure, is the best thing. I’m exactly where I should be right now. Seize the moment and enjoy every second of it. 🙂

I mean, how could one not enjoy this, just look at the clouds and how calm it is outside! I guess it puts things into the right perspective when looking at the Earth from above. I always wanted to live in the sky, even to go to the space if possible.

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My routine while flying as a passenger:

Buy water or fill up your empty bottle after security control

Go through Duty Free whether buying anything or not. If I buy something, it’s either perfume or rum.

Take it easy and be the last one to board.

As soon as the seat belt sign goes off, I start listening to music and writing articles or whichever project I’m working on at the time. I might buy a cognac & Coke or two as my dear grandma used to do. 🙂

I rarely sleep during flights but if in need, I rest. A neck pillow is a MUST have item onboard.

I normally get chatty with the crew onboard. Purely because I’m interested.

I also like to take pictures every time even though I probably have thousands of them already. For me every flight is unique. 🙂

Since working as cabin crew myself, I pay attention to everything and everyone onboard.

Welcome on board and enjoy your flight! 😉

Best regards,

Vera Jo

Xxx

PS. Sorry, couldn’t decide which one to choose. So I decided to include all of the photos where I look slightly confident. Hahahaha, who knows me knows I’m just trying to get by. 😉

Born to Fly Where is your happy place? Where do you feel in peace? Where do you feel safe and genuinely comfortable?

[madonnaalbrecht]

12 Reasons To Use Twitter For Business

Anyone who owns a business is well advised to do an annual check up on their overall performance and this is one place where the services of a business consultant can definitely come in handy.

Less competition, small business consulting services greater advantage. small business consulting services Business Consulting does not seem to be anywhere near as hard as competing for space in different markets. Besides that, if a person calls businesses in their home city or neighboring towns, they have a bit more of an edge. Create time management strategies: Time management is a excellent way to get the most amount of work done in the least amount of time. It is important to identify what the greatest time wasters are, and remove them. It also helps to maintain a list that could be used to check off as tasks become done. If something is written down, odds are pretty good that you will do it a lot more quickly than when it's only on a mental list. Beware of any hefty fees required up front. Make sure the franchise is successful. Above all, check with a Texas Business Consultant or seek the support of a Texas business coach before signing any contracts. Ask for free advice. See what they propose without you spending some money. See if they are on the exact same page as you, if they know your business and can offer business improvement suggestions which make sense to you. Why are we so negative (or afraid) of planning? Why do organizations not spend enough time teaching the Business Management ability of planning? Conversely, why do organizations write elaborate plans, only to shove them in a drawer till the next'planning season' rolls around? If companies used planning as the tool for which it was intended - to create a map for the future of the company and how they will get there - they would derive tremendous benefit from the planning process. This is not enough to make the business run the companies also need excellent guidance in the form of specialized business services. The companies in England mostly hire different firms from different cities in England. Nobody has thought of Kent and Bromley as great business service providers but the reality is that Kent consists of some really good accountancy firms. I hope you decide that your small business needs a web site. It's the best way I know how to reach a wider target audience with a comparatively small investment.

[dorcasing]

TASK #001 - CHARACTER SHEET

" pick your battles. pick... pick fewer battles than that. put some back. that’s too many. “

the basics:

hometown: leeds, england. 

current location:  none. relies on couchsurfing and order safe houses. lives off a backpack, magically enhanced to be bigger on the inside. hasn’t had a proper residence since graduation, and doesn’t THINK she misses it ( she does. a little. shh )

zodiac sign: capricorn (  7th of january, 1960 )

moral alignment: chaotic neutral, a little chaotic good depending on the day and mood but honestly? doesn’t have the best moral compass not always the best save-the-world intentions, does a lot of what she does just for the adrenaline

four temperaments: sanguine

one good trait: malleable. she can adapt to situations, places and times in the blink of an eye and this also goes to who she needs to be and when. she’s never caught off guard because she can simply adapt to whatever’s going on, which makes her an especially reliable order member. 

one bad trait: detached. dorcas doesn’t know how to stay anywhere for too long, near anyone for too long, feel anything for too long. in many ways she’s detached from her own life, from the world around her in which she doesn’t feel like she has a place, and from herself, her own body and mind. 

habits:

one bad habit: lying?? lmao

one good habit: ??? she sleeps a lot?? like you won’t catch dorcas meadowes sleep deprived she’s got that shit down. she just?? doesn’t have a lot of good habits her life is a compilation of bad decisions and destructive behaviour

one habit they can’t break: running, running, running. doesn’t matter when, to what, from whom, for how long. when faced with any situation that would require some form of intrnse emotion, her only solution is to leave. when faced with nothing but quiet and kidness, her feet beg for a run too. 

one they’ve broken: she used to write letters home. not often, but especially after hogwarts, especially in the frenzy of a war, she’d get a few lines of ‘everything’s fine. no, i’m not living on the streets. how are my nephews?’ at least once a month, usually for her younger sister, ruth. she hasn’t in five months now. at this point, they don’t even know if she’s alive. 

family:

their parents names: emilio meadowes and olga meadowes (née amonson)

their siblings names: norma horigan (née meadowes), conran meadowes, bromley meadowes, marsha rattig (née meadowes), ruth meadowes. all of them are muggles.

favorite childhood memory: jumping over fences, adrenaline running in her veins, sweat on her skin, a michievous smile on her lips. other rowdy kids, mainly older than her, are shouting ‘faster’ as hey run too, but no one can keep up with her. she can’t remember what she’s done or who’s chasing them - probably the latest victim of their pranks and ploys. her summers were always nothing but that; running, running running. 

favorite family member: lmao (ruth probably since i can’t put down marlene, gideon or septima)

what they prefer:

owl, frog, or cat? frog, simply because it’s the weirdest pet possible. and she always loved how her siblings screamed and squirmed when her own frog jumped at them. 

apparition or floo network? sirius’ flying motorcycle apparition. quick and effective, gets her anywhere, not in the strict floo network. it doesn’t help that she doesn’t own a house and, as such, doesn’t own a fireplace. 

muggle or wizard art? muggle art. wizards are too strict and centralised, too small of a community. plus, that muggleborn pride. 

radio or newspaper? radio because who has time to stop and READ a newspaper? not her. 

robes or muggle clothes? muggle clothes. imagine wearing robes near a dragon? that’s asking to be burned alive. 

favorites:

hogwarts subject: care of magical creatures duh

piece of clothing: her favourite worn out leather jacket. she’s had it for a few years now, has a ton of patches and still looks very much its age, if not worse. she bought it herself with her first paycheck after graduation.

place: the sky. it’s everywhere and nowhere at the same time, and freeing, and consistent. be it on a broom, a dragon, standing too near the ledge on a tall building - knowing that the wind can take her down at any moment and still have no fear makes her feel invincible. 

memory: the end of her first mission as a dragon rescuer. straight out of hogwarts, eager eyed and inexperienced, she spent a couple of weeks charming dragon smugglers, gathering information that would later bring down entire smuggling rings, but that’s not what she remembers. this is her patronus memory - opening small cages filled with terrified creatures, barely a meter tall, who’d later grow to be as big as a house, and seeing them fumbling throught the warehouse. she later got a slap on the wrist for it ( they are released AFTER being moved to a proper location, meadowes ) but in a moment of nothing but willingness to change something, even if as small as a lock, she couldn’t care less. setting them free is still, to this day, one of the rawest things she’s ever felt. war be damned, this was HOW she was making a difference, this was how she was saving the world. 

person: marlene. there’s never been a question about that. it’s not changing either. 

inspired by (x)

[overactivekate]

Anniversary Special

Twitter and Tumblr told me today that OveractiveKate was a year old. And who would have thought this time last year that I would have progressed so far!

There are probably now in the region of 200 people in the world who wait for my posts with all the anticipation of the John Lewis Christmas Advert. And just like the John Lewis Christmas ad, are all left feeling what a bloody waste of time and money it was afterwards.

Anyway, I can’t be arsed to write much because I’m in the middle of a relapse and my mental health has duly declined. More will follow though, if only because it’s cost me £25 to keep this domain name.

£25 a year to keep publishing this rubbish?! I mean I like a joke, but that takes the piss.

This time last year when such success was but a dream away...

So, just a word of thanks to the following for helping me achieve this milestone, which has seen me progress to the upper echelons of fame:

Paul Nicholls (before the wooden knee) for giving me my first subject matter and (pretty soon I’m sure) my first fan letter. Jim Fenner, for allowing me to follow you from Bromley station to the theatre.

I know you’re both big fans and admirers of my work, so the offer is still open for an entertaining interview. Please get in touch with my PA for my availability (sorry, but there’s an hour in January 2021 when I’m busy – dental check up).

Sarah, thank you for allowing me to call you when I publish and say ‘like my post so it looks like I have a friend’.

And lastly, the man on the train who’s has been unable to use public transport since being unwillingly engaged in my panic attack. Send me your address and I’ll get a Best of Gene Pitney album to you by return of post. SAE please, I’m skint.

This time this year (at a book signing - Sainsbury’s Car Park)

As Lewis Hamilton would say, it’s been a team effort. Love you guys!

....what a twonk.

[fictionaddictionbea]

10 Things to Know About the Psychology of Cults

Both terrifying and utterly fascinating, cults have a tendency to capture the attention of just about everyone. Questions abound: Where do these people come from? What are they really doing inside those secluded compounds? Most interesting, perhaps, are the psychological components of cult life, questions such as: Who in the world would fall for that? In an effort to answer these questions and more, we’ve listed 10 things to know about the psychology of cults.

Cults are attractive because they promote an illusion of comfort.

Humans desire comfort, and in a fearful and uncertain world many turn to cults because they tend to promote exactly that. Jon-Patrik Pedersen, a psychologist at CalTech, has pointed out that cult leaders often make promises that are totally unattainable, but also offered by no other group in society. Such things might include financial security, total health, constant peace of mind, and eternal life — the things every human desires at the deepest level.

Cults satisfy the human desire for absolute answers.

Today’s world is a tough one, with more abstract issues than there are issues that are black and white. As Dr. Adrian Furnham describes in Psychology Today, humans crave clarity. Many people join cults because they believe they’re being offered solid, absolute answers for questions such as good vs. evil, religion, the meaning of life, politics, etc. Many cult leaders promote messages that are simple and seem to make sense, the exact opposite of what we’re often provided with in typical, everyday life.

Those with low self-esteem are more likely to be persuaded by a cult environment.

People are often surprised to learn that those who join cults are, for the most part, average people. They come from all backgrounds, all zip codes, and all tax brackets. But research done in the past two decades has found an interesting pattern: many people successfully recruited by cults are said to have low self-esteem. Cults generally do not look to recruit those with certain handicaps or clinical depression. However, people with low self-esteem are easier to break down, then build back up in an effort to teach them that the cult is the supportive environment they’re looking for.

New recruits are “love bombed.”

Once people have been recruited by a cult, they are often “love bombed.” This odd phrase is commonly used to describe the ways in which someone with low self-esteem is consistently flattered, complimented, and seduced in order to train their brain to associate the cult with love and acceptance.

Women are more likely than men to join a cult.

According to various research, women make up a whopping 70% of cult members around the globe. Psychologists have different ideas about why more women than men join cults. Dr. David Bromley of Virginia Commonwealth University points out that women simply attend more social gatherings, either religious or otherwise. This makes women statistically more likely to join groups that will ultimately victimize them. Others suggest it has to do with the fact that women have been oppressed for much of human history. Therefore they’re more comfortable being under an authority figure. Still others write this off as total crock. Emma Cline, the author of the bestselling cult-themed novel The Girls theorizes that young women are often taught to seek the attention of men and to wait for “rescue.” Joining a cult, says Cline, is a way for many young women to feel as if they are “seizing their destiny.”

Many cult members have rejected religion.

Dr. Stanley H. Cath, a psychoanalyst and psychology professor at Tufts University, has treated more than 60 former cult members over the course of his career. From this unique firsthand experience, Cath has noticed an interesting trend: many people who join cults have experienced religion at some point in their lives, and rejected it. Perhaps this is surprising, considering many cults tend to be religious — or at least claim to be. But Dr. Cath asserts that this trend is a sign of something deeper. Many of those who join cults are intelligent young people from sheltered environments. Growing up in such an environment, says Dr. Cath, often means that “many have a history of failing to achieve intimacy, of blaming others for their failures, and of constantly striving for perfectionistic goals.” These characteristics make them prime targets for cult recruitment.

Cults maintain their power by promoting an “us vs. them” mentality.

Cults prove powerful because they are able to successfully isolate members from their former, non-cult lives. One of the ways cult leaders achieve this is to convince their followers that they are superior to those not in the cult. This “us vs. them” mentality ultimately leads to cult members isolating themselves socially from friends and family. They replace those relationships with new ones inside the cult.

Cult leaders are masters at mind control.

Cult leaders convince their victims to separate themselves from society, give up personal possessions and sometimes huge sums of money. They convince people buy into whatever they are promoting. To do all this a cult leader must be a master at mind control. Ways in which leaders gain control over cult members vary, but some popular methods include: Public Humiliation: New cult members may be “love bombed” shortly after their arrival, but once they are established members, cult leaders often maintain emotional control through various exercises meant to publicly humiliate a member. One such method involves someone sitting in a chair surrounded by other members, at which time they are required to admit their recent failures, base thoughts, shortcomings, etc. Self Incrimination: A favorite tactic of the infamous cult leader Jim Jones, self incrimination requires cult members to provide their leader with written statements detailing their individual fears and mistakes. The cult leader can then use these statements to shame individual members publicly. Brainwashing:: Cult leaders are known to repeat various lies and distortions until members find it difficult to distinguish between reality and cult life. Paranoia: To maintain a false sense of comfort, cults often rely on paranoia tactics. Cult leaders convince their victims that a group, their families, and/or the government is out to get them, but that the cult can provide safety. Once a cult member comes to the conclusion that their families and country cannot keep them safe, they begin to worship and put all of their faith in their cult leader. Jim Jones was especially skilled at this mind-control trick. He would encourage members to spy on each other, and consistently spoke through loudspeakers at all hours of the day so that cult members would hear his voice whether awake or asleep.

Cult members often have no idea they’re in a cult.

Although it can be obvious to those around them, people in cults often don’t realize what they have become a part of. Psychologist Dr. Margaret Thaler Singer spent most of her career studying the psychology of cults and brainwashing. She found that most people enter a cult willingly, without realizing the power it is bound to have over them. Singer theorizes that this is partly because some people are more willing to see the perceived benefits than they are the potential dangers. She also mentions that many people assume cults are only religious, though in truth, cults can also be political groups, lifestyle groups, or business groups.

Cult life can have a dangerous and lasting effect.

Cult victims often spend years overcoming the emotional damage incurred during their time spent in a cult. Psychologists who treat former cult members routinely describe the long-term effects being in a cult environment can have on the human body. Dr. John G. Clark, Jr., is a Harvard psychiatry professor and the co-founder of a non-profit group which treats former members and their families. He specifically mentions that the “symptoms of temporal lobe epilepsy are similar to those seen or reported as resulted from cult conversions: increased irritability, loss of libido or altered sexual interest, ritualism, compulsive attention to detail, mystical states, humorlessness and sobriety, heightened paranoia.”

[abdulfashionstyle]

000 even strength minutes in an NHL season

3rd round, 85 overall: G Ilya Konovalov. A little surprising to see the Oilers select a goalie for the sixth year in a row, with the previous three (Dylan Wells, 2016 123; Stuart Skinner, 2017 78; Olivier Rodrigue, 2018 62) all signed to Entry Level Contracts. Konovalov has a contract of a different type, as he is committed to two more years with Lokomotiv Yaroslavl of the KHL (now Craig MacTavish team!). In the fourth quarter, the Warriors were able to score 15 points, with 11 of those 15 coming from the charity stripe and they were able to net two field goals. The Mustangs surged for a 25 point fourth quarter, thanks in part to a stingy man to man defense and clutch scoring from junior Damin Coach Outlet Online Pierson, who scored 13 of his 16 points in the fourth. The Mustangs also made eight of ten free throws in the quarter to go along with their eight field goals in the period, Hobbs 3, S. Bromley Lynch 2, C. McCallum 2, I. "My mom used to say 'chew up the meat and spit out the bones,'" said Blair, who now eats a vegan diet. "With every coach I have played under, and every coach I have been on staff with, that is what I have tried to do. I say 'let me take that, I like that. Olson's findings so far counter the perception that being transgender equates to marginalization and misery. The young trans kids in her study, who are supported by their families and allowed to dress and act according to their preferred gender, do remarkably well. Their self esteem is high. Want to be involved in the team. I don want to go to a game, write a report and forget about it. I think my strength is Coach Outlet Sale team building, people skills with kids and developing them. Microsoft HoloLens is expanding outside of North America, as the augmented reality headset will be available for pre order in the United Kingdom, Ireland, Australia, New Zealand, France and Germany. Shipping will commence for these countries in November. Microsoft argued that the introduction of the HoloLens in these six new countries is a distinct milestone for their product. Friendly Links: New England Patriots Jersey | kanye west yeezy seasons zines 1 2 3 4

[newsonlinegroup-blog]

There is a man who is cleaning Beckenham's dirty street signs for free

A man is "giving back to the community" by cleaning dirty street signs in Beckenham. Reading a Facebook post about not being able to see traffic signs in Beckenham inspired Scott Kingston, 37, to help. He owns a cleaning service business, Stains on Panes, and decided to make it his community project to clean dirty street signs between his shifts. Part of my community cleaning project, I have cleaned these signs close to Unicorn primary & Langley School in #Beckenham #BeckBromFL pic.twitter.com/bVsCY96zv7 — Scott Kingston (@StainsOnPanes) January 25, 2018 A secretary at Stains on Panes told News Shopper: "Scott created a Facebook post and said if there were any dirty signs to let him know. "The response has been amazingly positive. So much attention has came from it. He just thought he would give back to the community after stumbling across the post." Scott lives on the border between Penge and Kent House and was cleaning signs yesterday (January 24) in torrential rain. He has a two-year-old son and his ambition is to make Stains on Panes into a family business which can also create job opportunities in Bromley. His secretary added: "Obviously he can't commit to this all day long. He sees it as his project for this year. I don't think he imagined how much attention it has got. "Some of the signs have been very dirty and are very hard to scrub off. He has worked really hard, bless him." The Stains on Panes Facebook page has welcomed residents to request signs which require cleaning. A statement reads: "Welcome to the new community project for 2018 ' Cleaner and Clearer ' for road and sign posts. If you see any road, traffic, safety or street signs/posts please let me know in the comments below under this post and I will clean it on my window cleaning rounds when next in the area. "This is totally free and part of keeping the Bromley and surrounding borough's, I live and work in a cleaner and nicer place. Together we can all make our areas better. " Facebook comments included one woman writing, "This is such a nice thing to do, the difference is just amazing." Read the full article

[citywonder]

Ecommerce Website Design

How to Choose the proper Web Site Design Business Your organization's web presence can be an important element of your business. Just about anyone that is considering business that is doing you will certainly research your organization online before signing a contract or creating a purchase. Yet, most people aren't involved in web jobs often and they aren't yes things to look for whenever choosing the web design firm that is right. Choosing the web that is wrong team could prove disastrous, which means you have to be careful. Listed below are five facts to consider when selecting a website design business: Is their web design prices too good to be real? In the wide world of web site design, cheap equates to quality that is poor. Quality-cutting measures consist of: Outsourcing work Re-packaging designs (which were often rejected by other clients), or Neglecting quality assurance and evaluation Another typical tactic is to provide a reduced initial quote while hiding costs that may eventually stack up within the scope of this project. You will wish to be careful that the business may have small experience, or that it may not be in operation the next day. We frequently have customers visited us to rescue their web site after having worked with a "discount" web design company, resulting in lost time and wasted money. Don't allow that be you. Saving a little at the start could cost you far more as time goes on. Will they be a vendor or a partner? The web design business's approach to their relationship with you is very important. Vendors consider success through their eyes that are own and you also along with your company objectives are of no concern for them. If your project concludes, they disappear, without any interest that is vested your success. Lovers, on one other hand, look for shared success over the long term. It's a victory you succeed for them when. Real success is measured maybe not simply by establishing a site, but by that web site return that is bringing investment and growing your business.

Get them to as passionate regarding the success when you are. Where's the content coming from? Content isn't an afterthought - it's integral to an effective web site. Your articles must certanly be compelling to visitors and optimized for search. It should communicate the worthiness of the business, fit your brand identity, be aesthetically engaging, and stay optimized for converting people to leads. You need a partner who can use you to definitely convert your value and business proposition into outstanding textual, graphic, and movie content. Choose a firm with content optimization and development at the core of these approach. Will they be an one-trick pony? Your online business will be evolving, always and your requirements will likely rise above the internet. If web site design and development is the organization's only specialization, their eyes will glaze within the brief minute Web Design company in Bromley, London you mention direct mail, making a movie, designing your tradeshow booth, writing a pr release, or solidifying their brand position. Ask whether or not the company has just as expertise that is much branding, advertising, and printing design because they do with internet.