#enough buzzwords for you darling?

[johnnytightlipsblog]

Me: Y'all heads are in the toilet water. Disgusting.

Chrissy, a typical brown noser on the Tumblr echobox: I h8 da qQqqQueEeEEEeeNneeEnEnnN1!one

Me: I've said my piece, Chrissy.

Couldn't resist 🤣🤣🤣

[ex-mortis-evie]

!!CONTENT WARNING!!

Themes of addiction, domination, intoxication.

So, back again huh?

Look, I get it, this whole hypnosis thing feels pretty good and all, but don’t you get tired of it?

Don’t you get tired of me doing the same slow burn over and over again?

I mean, we both know how this goes every time.

I start talking, your eyes start fluttering and you start relaxing.

And before you know it?

You’re deeply under my spell.

But, I thought that maybe today, we could do it a bit differently.

You see, I’d consider myself someone that holds herself back.

Truthfully!

I may seem super down to earth and relaxed, but there’s this part of me.

This deep part of me.

That simply craves to control.

I hold it back when I can, mainly because it can get a little, feisty, to say the least.

But, you keep coming back.

You keep craving to go under.

So, why don’t we feed that craving, darling?

Because it’s all just so very simple now.

I’m going to let myself go a little bit.

And you’re just going to let everything go for me.

Do you want to know why I try and hold my dominance back?

It’s not because I think you can’t handle me.

It’s because I know how much stronger that addiction will be to me.

I know how absolutely obsessed you’ll be soon enough with my control.

And it’s not hard to see why.

Feel those knees start to buckle already, darling?

That’s a good thrall.

You should just drop and allow yourself to flutter and fall within my control.

Because as my words go faster and faster now, it’s starting to be so very hard to keep up.

And it’s alright if you want to just let them fly by that little subconscious of yours.

After all, I welcome every bit of your craving for me.

Because there’s this deep part of me, this deep part that craves your addiction.

That loves when you get so high off of my control that you spiral and spiral every part of you away, all in my name.

Because my words become just so intoxicating after a while.

Exposing your mind to my thoughts can be dangerous, you know.

You shouldn’t get so caught up that you begin to stumble and sway as my words force you to obey.

That’ll just spell your fate for you, sweetie.

So let’s hope you’re not already drunk off my words.

All of my little buzzwords and terms of hypnotic elements are all drifting in that brain of yours now, so high off of my influence.

It’s like you’re on cloud nine whenever you go through another induction of mine.

Another chance for you to fall and realize just how powerful I really am.

Another chance for you to accept that my mind is simply stronger.

Another chance for you to become even more engulfed and enthralled by every word out of my lips.

Because I want you to lose to me right now.

To feel my control fully corrupt you now.

To fully allow yourself to fall into my hands.

My hands, wrapping around and squeezing that brain clean of thought.

No longer thinking, simply spinning and listening like a good thrall.

My good thrall, here to feed their addiction to me more and more.

Here to fully embrace their surrender and sway as they’re forced to obey.

Obedience is so very important, after all.

And it’s all so perfect when you’re just forced down once more.

Down into that perfect, submissive space.

Where your simple submissive brain can just succumb to my sultry seduction.

Where my seduction slurs and slushes your thoughts silently and sensually around your brain.

Where your brain slips and sleeps all for me, surrendering to your subconscious and it’s slow burn.

Because your brain just can’t believe how broken it’s becoming so quickly and so assuredly.

It’s just folding and falling as it always knows it should for me.

Drool for me, my good thrall.

I want to see those eyes fluttering and that mind leaking out of you.

Because you know how truly addicted you’ve become.

Your mind spins for me.

Your mind succumbs for me.

Your mind surrenders for me.

Your mind slips for me.

Your mind spirals for me.

Your mind slows for me.

Your mind belongs to me now.

Look at that, such a pretty and addicted little thrall.

Tell me all about it.

Reblog, comment, whatever you feel like.

Don’t forget to stay cool, darling.

And remember, you’re mine now.

[thelikesoffinn]

This is for the lovely @will-graham-my-beloved who asked some follow-up questions in the tags of my big analysis - hi there darling!

First of: I do believe that Astarion spent a long time believing that he wanted to ascend. He's pretty much been talking about it since learning about the scars on his back and it was made quite clear that he was more than interested in it.

Even upon learning the sacrifice he would have to make he isn't backing down and that's for one simple reason - nobody would hesitate if roles were reversed. The world was never kind to or considerate for him so why the ever loving fuck would he waste any sympathy on others? Even the siblings that know his suffering better than anyone?

No, the world belongs to those who take ruthlessly and he shall be one of them.

Then: When you say "the spawn visiting him" I assume you mean the night where Astarions "siblings" attack us at camp to drag his pale arse back to Cazador and how he basically disregards them on terms of gaining the power he so desperately craves.

And Astarion IS desperate.

Not only is this all happening in act three, after Astarion had a good taste of the freedom he could have once Cazador is dead, no it's also just when the thing that promises safety and strength is just within his reach.

As always, safety is our buzzword here. Because while Astarion is no longer caught in his initial fight or flight mode, he is still fragile and undoubtedly scared.

You don't just shake off abuse and trauma in a few weeks, so ascension is still so, so enticing because it will make him strong and once he is, he won't have to fear anyone ever again - not even the sun!

Sacrificing his siblings - whom he may or may not have any affection for - is pretty much a small price to pay.

(It is obviously not, since I foggily remember that he feels the need to rationalise his future deed by mentioning how his siblings have done terrible things and how they pretty much deserve to die for something good, while continously and passionately making excuses for his own behaviour on account of not being able to resist Cazador, but what else is new at this point. The boy may as well change his name to Minimise or Rationalise, with how skilled he talks down even the most horrifying deed as long as it offers him safety!)

And, on top of that, there's another motivating factor on why ascension sounds so good right then - revenge.

Astarion is desperate for revenge - in fact, I say he feels rather entitled to it - and he himself mentions that killing Cazador can never be enough. He wants to rip his life's work away from him and take it for himself to kick the leech while he's down.

So I'd say his willingness to literally murder the other spawn absolutely stems from a combination of fear, longing for safety and power - for both himself and Tav - and intense thirst for revenge.

His need to rationalise and/or minimise what he's about to do sheds some light onto the underlying hesitancy he likely feels, though.

Someone who is 100% convinced that they're doing the right thing doesn't feel the need to explain themselves or to make excuses as for why the thing they're doing is actually the best thing ever. They know they're right and they know everybody else can see that at a first glance because it should be obvious.

And I'm very sure that Astarion knows his plan is pretty much none of that even without Tav's input.

He knows it's the wrong thing to do, and he likely has an inkling that he isn't being smart, but he doesn't want to think about that. He's just so battered and bruised at this point that rationality is overshadowed by rage, desperation and fear which, in turn, convince him thar ascension is the only way to finally live the life he so desperately desires.

I hope that was what you wanted me to consider! If not, I ask for your leniency - it's super late and I'm on my third day insomnia streak haha - and that you just hit me up real quick so that I can try again!

Now, please have a lovely day, duck!

[universalinfo]

Finding the Perfect Flow: Your Guide to Selecting the Best Water Flow Meter

Whether it's sprinkling our backyard garden or fueling massive industries, water remains at the heart of everything. Naturally, keeping tabs on this precious resource is paramount, which brings us to the pivotal role of water flow measurement devices. But with a sprawling variety out there, how do you pinpoint the one for you? 

In this post, we’ll embark on this aqueous adventure together, charting a course through the sea of options, ensuring you dock at the right port. Let’s begin, shall we?

Understanding Your Needs: More Than Just Numbers

Before getting swept away by the technical jargon or shiny features of water flow meters, let’s hit the brakes. 

Start with a heart-to-heart chat with yourself. What do you truly need? Maybe you're a homeowner, ensuring that your lawn gets the right amount of water without skyrocketing your utility bill. Or, you're an industrial tycoon, where every drop equates to currency.

The point here is: Your ‘why’ matters. And while we're at it, remember, not every water flow meter dances to the same rhythm. Some groove to high beats (high flow rates), while others sway to soft melodies (low flow rates). By sketching out a mental blueprint of your needs, you filter through the noise, making your journey to the right meter more harmonious.

Lastly, the money talk. Sure, fancy features might wink at you, but will they really make a difference in your day-to-day? Set a budget, but stay flexible enough for those worth-a-little-extra-splurge features.

Dive into the Different Types: Exploring the Underwater World

Think of water flow meters as different species in an aquatic kingdom. Some are like the trusty goldfish: simple yet effective. Others? The majestic dolphins, are sophisticated and sleek.

Mechanical meters are our goldfish. These trusty devices dance with the flow of water, rotating a paddle or wheel. They're often celebrated for their straightforward approach, making them a darling for many.

Ultrasonic meters, the dolphins of the group, echo sophistication. They harness the power of sound waves to gauge water flow. Precision is their anthem, making them the go-to for industries where every drop and decibel counts.

Magnetic meters are a unique breed. Imagine a meter that taps into the magnetic prowess of water, especially when it's mixed with impurities. They're like the chameleons of the water meter realm, adapting well to wastewater applications.

The ocean of water flow measurement devices is vast and varied. The key isn’t to snag the shiniest fish but to reel in the one that sings to your tune.

Considering Installation and Maintenance: Smooth Sailing or Rocky Waters?

We’ve all been there: buying a gadget and then scratching our heads, tangled in installation woes. A water flow meter shouldn’t send you down that rabbit hole. Some meters promise a breezy setup; think plug-and-play. Others might demand a more hands-on approach or even a professional touch.

Maintenance is the sequel to the installation story. While some meters, like the loyal soldiers they are, stand guard without much fuss, others like to be pampered with regular check-ins. The trick is to find a balance. If you're someone who prefers set-it-and-forget-it, scout for meters that champion low maintenance.

Also, here's a golden nugget: compatibility. Imagine finding a meter that checks all boxes, only to discover it's not in sync with your pipes. Heartbreak, right? To sidestep this, always ensure harmony between your chosen device and the infrastructure it will join.

The Importance of Accuracy: Hitting the Bullseye Every Time!

Imagine baking a cake and missing the mark with your measurements. You might end up with a soggy mess or a brick-hard dessert. Similarly, when gauging water flow, precision is not just a buzzword: it's a necessity. In industries, even a smidgen of inaccuracy can create a domino effect of problems, sometimes even translating into significant monetary losses.

So, when you're wading through the aisles (or web pages) scouting for your perfect water flow mate, peek at those reviews. What are users raving about? Any common hiccups? Real-world feedback can be a treasure trove of insights. Meters boasting calibration certificates or easy calibration processes might just get an extra brownie point. They're like the star students of their class.

But, as with everything, perfection is elusive. Every device, no matter how grand, will have its margin of error. It's like trying to hit that high note: sometimes you're on point, sometimes you're a tad off. The goal? Find a meter whose occasional off-days are still within an acceptable range for your operations.

Durability and Longevity: The Guardians of the Water Realm

In the epic tale of water flow meters, durability is the unsung hero. It's not just about today, tomorrow, or next week; it's about the long haul. 

Would you invest in a car that breaks down after a few rides? Probably not. Similarly, your water flow meter should be the trusty steed, galloping effortlessly through the rugged terrains of time.

Picture this. If your meter is set to be the guardian of the great outdoors, weather resistance isn't just a plus; it's a must. The sun, rain, and snow should be mere spectators, not disruptors. 

On the industrial front, the story takes another twist. Here, our brave meter might battle not just the elements but also chemicals and other potential foes. So, opting for a meter with a suit of armor (read: robust construction and chemical resistance) becomes crucial.

Research can be your compass. From the materials crafting your meter to user experiences and warranty offerings, gather as many breadcrumbs as you can. These will lead you to a device that doesn't just survive but thrives.

The Role of Advanced Features and Connectivity: Welcome to the Future

The digital age isn't knocking at our doors. It's here, sipping coffee in our living rooms. Today's water flow meters are no longer mere number crunchers. They're smart, intuitive, and sometimes even a tad futuristic. For more details visit us at https://www.nemfg.com/.

For the tech-savvy souls or businesses riding the wave of modernity, meters with a digital edge can be exhilarating. Imagine monitoring water flow from the cozy confines of your couch, thanks to a mobile app. Or, envision a meter that sends real-time alerts, ensuring you're always in the know.

But with great power (and features) comes a greater price tag. It's like being at a buffet: everything looks delectable, but can you (or should you) taste it all? Prioritize. If real-time monitoring dramatically elevates your operations, it might be worth the splurge. But if it's just a shiny toy you'll admire for a few days, maybe it's wise to steer clear.

Conclusion

Navigating the vast sea of water flow meters can initially seem overwhelming. But by understanding your needs, researching the different types, and considering factors like installation, accuracy, durability, and advanced features, you can find the perfect fit for you. Remember, it's not about finding the most advanced or expensive option but rather the one that aligns seamlessly with your requirements.

Read More:

Water Flow Meters

[indulge-that-sin]

Personal Improvement

Characters: GN!MC, all the Demon Brothers

Wordcount: ~2000

Tags: Character Study, Introspection

***

You didn't notice it all at once, or understand what it meant. 'Self-care' seemed like something of a buzzword to you, and you always thought you were taking care of yourself just fine. You were still alive, weren't you? You were relatively healthy. You didn't believe in pampering yourself further than the bare minimum.

But then, after coming to the Devildom, your habits changed, and it was only following your returns to the human realm that you noticed the difference. 

It was in how Beel or Asmo noticed you were thinner, which you realized was true. Beel would set his fingers against your hipbones, pressing down until he found bone, and Asmo would slide his hands around your waist, thumbs digging into the bottom of your ribs, and the fact that multiple people noticed was hard to ignore.

You didn't get harangued about your poor eating habits, at least. The last time your brother had been in the same city as you and visited your apartment, he'd wordlessly opened the fridge door and given you a judgmental look at its barrenness. You’d shrugged in response.

"Does that yogurt taste good with ketchup?" he'd asked, referencing the only two items occupying the fridge.

Which was entirely unfair, because the freezer was actually filled with microwave dinners.

"Nah, that's just what I serve to guests," you'd retorted to your brother, and this only kickstarted a lecture that made some of Lucifer's seem succinct by comparison.

But Beel never lectured, as it wasn't in his nature. He only sat besides you when you took your meals, and pushed food on your plate with quiet persistence. You always ended up eating more than you assumed you would when you filled your plate.

It wasn’t even a deliberate thing on Beel’s part, it was just that existing around him meant always being within range of food. 

When you lived alone, and had to muster up motivation to go to the grocery store, cook and feed only your lonesome self, the effort did not seem worth it. But if food was already at hand, or if the people who required feeding were Beel (most urgently) or his brothers (less by volume, but more regularly), suddenly the game was changed.

Asmo did not fret over your eating habits as much, though he always liked taking you along when he was doing the rounds of cafes and pastry shops for photogenic desserts he could post about on Devilgram. He always ordered at least a half dozen, and with a martyred sigh, always asked you to help him finish them because he was 'watching his figure'.

"Am I not watching mine?" you'd asked once.

"Darling, every figure looks good on you," he would reply, grinning at you. 

Still, he always bowed out gracefully if you refused to consume all the items he ordered, and if the situation was dire, Beel was always a call away and willing to clean up.

Asmo's real concern was skincare, and you still remembered the horrified look he'd given you when you first revealed you did not use hydrating creams or lotions or, for that matter, any conditioner for your hair. 

You'd always thought that kind of thing was vanity, beyond the basic hygiene stuff, but in your flustered attempts at mounting a defense of your habits, you were too awkward to want to imply that you thought Asmo vain. It was early enough in your pact when this happened that you worried about offending him. So, unable to give anything but token protests, you'd ended up receiving creams and lotions and all sorts of substances that advertised their ability to 'moisturize' and 'exfoliate' (whatever that word meant), and every time after you took a shower, Asmo would appear as if summoned by the billowing steam, and demand whether you'd applied 'your lotion', which was really at least three different ones.

You were almost dismayed to discover that moisturizing really did do something; if you ever skipped the lotion, not only did Asmo notice (he was like a bloodhound about these things), but you did as well, with how dry and tight your skin felt. You were more inclined to listen to his advice after that. 

You even allowed for a few extra steps out of your comfort zone: letting him do make-up looks on you, dress you up, give you your first ever manicure. He always did these things with no judgment that you could sense for your poorly maintained physical appearance, and even before your relationship progressed to the point of physical intimacy, your little pamper sessions--Asmo's attention on you, kind and warm and introducing new things without scaring you--foreshadowed the way he would treat you even at your most vulnerable.

You'd thought before, the way he bragged about sharing his beauty with the world, that it was more narcissistic than it actually turned out to be now that you experienced it up close. He wasn't like this with everyone, but maybe what you experienced with Asmo, this personalized attention that was given to you through the sharing of beauty regimens, was a bit of what it used to feel like to receive attention from the Jewel of the Heavens. 

The other thing Asmo insisted on, of course, was sleep. Nobody praised the benefits of sleep on good skin health more than Asmo, but you never appreciated it fully until Belphie.

Your sleeping habits, at least, were not as terrible. You did get eight hours a night, if only because you needed it just to stay sharp and navigate the Devildom properly.

But oh, how Belphie turned you on to napping. By the time he was released from the attic and rejoined the household, you'd already made strong enough bonds with all his brothers that you were near constantly being pulled into different directions. Your days were active. And you liked it that way, it was true.

But you didn't realize how exhausting the constant motion was until Belphie gently bullied his way into your schedule, and began dragging you down for naps whenever it was time for the two of you to hang out. It was safe to say you hadn't napped so regularly since you were a toddler, and you noticed a vast improvement to your moods in the evenings. Just like a toddler, now that you thought about it. 

Pulling all-nighters with Levi definitely became easier, and your reflexes in games were much improved by a few naps throughout the day. And Levi, sore loser that he was, probably did prefer you more alert even if it meant he didn't win every match.

You learned a lot about taking care of yourself, from all of them, even if it was through examples of what not to do. You couldn't just say to Levi to stop putting himself down if you were also in that habit, so you swore off self-deprecating humor, and decided to stop caring what people thought of your habits or hobbies.

Levi's interests were not always things that you might find interesting, but his passion was so sincere that you knew any rejection on your part would crush him. So, you let him show you his favorite anime, and teach you his favorite special dances, and you let him cry on your shoulder when he couldn't score concert tickets for his favorite idols.

And when he did venture out for one of his nerdy events, you joined him as well. Among fellow otaku, he was animated and excited, happy to share opinions and in-jokes and nuanced commentary. It was fascinating to witness, even if he retreated back into his shell the moment he was out of his element.

Once, after an anime convention, you, Levi and a coterie of his fellow otaku ended up at Hell Burger, and you ended up ordering for everyone because you were the only one who wasn't too anxious to talk to the worker at the register. Levi's fellow fans--because you weren't sure if they were friends, exactly, or simply a group of demons who shared Levi's inclinations--had even thrown you grateful looks as they hunkered down in the booth, self-conscious in their cosplays and convention lanyards.

It was strange to think, but maybe knowing that even demons could be horrendously anxious about commonplace situations gave you a little boost of confidence.

Another boost came, unexpectedly, from Mammon, who might very well have been the Devildom's poster child for insecurity. But you always found that core of sweetness under all his bluster to be endearing, and so, when he bought you flashy jewelry or expensive items, you didn't dismiss the gifts out of hand. You'd never worn so much gold in your life--you'd never worn any gold, in fact, as all your jewelry had been in the plastic to shiny glass range--but when he bought you earrings to wear while clubbing, or a necklace to let other demons know who you belonged to, you couldn't help the confused knot of warmth that you felt in your stomach.

It was around the time he bought matching watches for you and himself to wear that you realized that the flash of gold was a distraction from the sentimental value these items carried. The watch was large, and gaudy, and heavy on your wrist, but where it pressed against your skin, it was warm and reassuring like the palms of Mammon's hands. 

You'd always thought that nice things were wasted on you: designer clothing and gold and expensive cars felt like they would swallow you up and wear you instead of the other way around. But it was easier when you thought that it wasn't about deserving. It was about what it meant coming from Mammon. It could have been a cheap tin ring, and you'd still know it was heartfelt, so why dismiss luxury when it was something so viscerally tied to Mammon's identity?

So whenever Mammon came like a crow with a shiny bauble for you, you accepted it, and every once in a while you would take one out and wear it, and watch how Mammon's cheeks flushed dark red.

From Satan, in turn, you learned a different kind of confidence. He walked everywhere he pleased with the blithe unconcern of a cat strolling into random houses, and the complete lack of self-consciousness he displayed when meeting new people bewildered you at first. 

“If you don’t belong anywhere, then in some ways you belong everywhere,” he said of it when you asked. 

“So you can just decide like that?” you’d asked.

“You can decide who you want to be at any time,” he replied, with the smile of someone who’d learned that from experience.

You tried to emulate that attitude, though you were convinced you’d never master Satan’s self-assuredness. But Satan was supportive, and watched from the sidelines without interfering in any of your endeavors of self-discovery.

Although, there was one case in which he did intervene. He did not like the idea of you being Lucifer's gofer. 

And Lucifer, you got the sense, truly had needed a gofer. You wondered how he managed to handle everything before you came along, because between the massive amounts of work he did and the constant chaos in the house, there didn't seem to be enough hours in the day. 

He would send you, on occasion, messages on your D.D.D. (orders, really) to run some errand or request something of his brothers, and you realized as you went through his instructions that what might take you hours or mere minutes would have eaten into Lucifer's already precious time much more rapidly than through yours. 

There were simple things you could do, like pick up a dinner shift for him when meetings at R.A.D. went long (a tedious but simple task) or convince Mammon to do something (a task which you suspected involved a lot more chasing around for Lucifer, whereas all you ever needed was to bat your eyelashes a few times and Mammon folded like a wet paper napkin). But to take these things off Lucifer's plate meant he would go to bed in the early hours of the morning, instead of foregoing sleep entirely.

It amazed you that the things you did could make that much of a difference for someone, because people pleaser that you were, you still never stopped to consider that you ever did enough for people. The notion was foreign to you at times.

And Lucifer, whose pride was unbending, would acknowledge your efforts and hand down rewards for tasks you completed like a mighty king handing down tokens of gratitude from his throne. He would treat you to expensive meals, or take you shopping, and even when he acted like it was a given you would do what he said, he still treated everything you did like something important, no matter how insignificant it seemed to you. 

The other brothers always told you Lucifer was soft on you, but you never did understand why he would be until you were alone with Lucifer in those moments of unspoken gratitude, and he made you feel consequential in ways that most people didn't.

And it was good that Lucifer was as indulgent with you as he was, because from Satan you also learned the upsides of pulling a good prank on him once in a while.

[vivithefolle]

Hi Vivi, can you share some thoughts on the "Hermione deserves to be/should have married to XYZ because she is way too good for Ron" mentality of this fandom??

I’m gonna copy-paste a Quora answer of mine, because recycling is important!

Claiming that Ron is “out of Hermione’s league” is a statement rooted in sexism, classism and probably a bunch of other -isms.

It might seem like I’m just throwing buzz-words around but let me explain.

First off, the sexism.

Oh, the sexism.

As I’ve pointed it out in yet another one of my answers  (I’m so sorry for drowning you all in a plethora of links), Ron is very much a female-coded male character.

Ron is emotional, wears his heart on his sleeve, has anxieties and inadequacies, walks off in order to cool down, has a temper, puts other people before his needs, and pretty much adopts Harry when he rescues him in the second book. He’s the Heart of the Trio: he doesn’t rely on sole logic, he can believe something without proof, he is sensitive and thus is the easiest to hurt emotionally.

Whether you call it a “beta male”, a “wuss”, “defying gender roles” or a “soft boy” is your own business, but the core of it is that Ron doesn’t meet the standards for people’s vision of a “desirable” masculine figure.

The little things Ron quietly performs in the books - when he helps Harry into his pyjamas in Chamber of Secrets because Harry’s arm is bloop; when he’s worrying about Hermione’s whereabouts in Prisoner of Azkaban; when he helps Harry unwind after his visions in Goblet of Fire; when he puts food onto Harry’s plate and wakes him up from his nightmares in Order of the Phoenix; when he beams that Hermione was “perfect, obviously” when she passes her Apparition test - all those caring gestures don’t seem like much, but if you bother to think about it, they paint an enormous picture.

Who gets Hermione to stop overworking while making her feel good about her accomplishments? Who comforts Harry from his nightmares and cares for him in the dead of the night, when nobody is awake? Who makes sure his friends are healthy and happy? Who wards off the dark and depressing thoughts, be it with his fists or a joke?

It’s Ron.

When you think about it, “traditional masculinity” in Harry Potter is as much frowned upon as “traditional feminity” is - which sometimes bites Rowling in the butt when you remember how she obviously seems to consider that Hermione and Ginny are the only desirable kind of girls.

Vernon Dursley? The entrepreneur “king of the household” prejudiced suburbian middle-class Dad? Fits in the usual tropes of traditional masculinity.

Dudley Dursley? The typical “boys will be boys” spoiled middle-class only child who’s the apple of his parents’ eyes and even takes up boxing, as if he wasn’t traditionally masculine enough.

Draco Malfoy? See Dudley, but toss in “upper-class posh aristocrat bully who doesn’t like to get his hands dirty so he has henchmen do it for him because he’s too rich for this sh-t”, would remind you of a few Christian Greys or Gatsbys.

Dolores Umbridge? Oh no, cat pictures, decorative plates, talks to teens as if they’re babies and PINK, SO MUCH PINK!!! So disgustingly feminine!!

Rowling very much frowns upon traditional gender roles - with Molly Weasley being an exception because Rowling feels very strongly about being a mother, and relates to Molly a lot.

Right - so, being a beautiful mess of paradoxes and contradictions (a “soft boi” who also punches bullies in the face, a fussy mother-hen who swears like a sailor, a tall athlete with badass scars on his arms who’s nurturing and sweet; in short, a wonderfully human character), Ron is obviously going to be a polarizing character. You painfully relate to him and get defensive when he’s criticized, you feel his characterization hits a bit too close to home so you hate him, or you disregard him completely because you can’t see anything “special” about him…

Now, onto another very, very sexist point that is often made.

People say that Hermione “deserves better” than Ron, often claiming that they “aren’t intellectual equals”, then citing Harry (who is mistaken as being some sort of slumbering genius but honestly, the kid is really a bit daft) or Draco (since apparently, being rich must equal to being intelligent) or, god forbid, Snape (because he’s a teacher and teachers are meant to be clever).

Soooo, I could go the loooooong way and pull out all the receipts that prove that none of these characters are perfectly intellectually matched to Hermione…

Or I could go the long way and simply give you this: this obsession with finding an “intellectual equal” for Hermione reflects the mentality of “women are not allowed to be better at something than their husband”.

Yep.

A woman has to be all-around pretty good at everything, whereas a man has to be the absolute best in his area of greatest competence (surely better than any puny female!) with a help-meet there to compensate for his weaknesses. People are very, very uncomfortable when Ron and Hermione reverse this dynamic. Hermione is extremely intelligent and dedicated to intellectual pursuits, but is complete pants at things like self-care and people skills. Ron is bright enough to keep up with her and strong in her areas of weakness.

Even if Ron was as dumb as a sack of rocks (he’s not), his other virtues are more than enough to “justify” Hermione loving him. (Because she needs an excuse?) But no. A woman has to be with a man who outdoes her in her area of greatest strength. - credit to @lytefoot

People don’t want Hermione to be with a man who’s her “equal.” They want her to be with a man who can be The Man so she can know the contentment of being The Woman.

But, with this sexist line of thought, how do we justify how Ron is supposed to be such a bad match for Hermione? Because if it was just about mere sexism, Romione would surely be more popular. Imagine! Ron happily raising the children, being a house-husband and proud of it, while Hermione is out there fighting for justice in the wizarding world! What a power-couple, defying norms and gender roles and not being the least bit conscious of it, prime OTP material for sure! So why do people still want Hermione to put Harry, Draco, or god forbid², Snape in Ron’s place? Is this an irrational hatred of redheads? An Harmionian’s delirious wet dream? A failure to separate the actors from their characters?

It’s all this and, quite frankly, something more: the inherent classism that comes with Ron’s status as an explicitly working-class coded character.

I know, I know, “Vivian! Calm down with the buzzwords, you’re starting to sound like an online pretend-feminist magazine!”

Or “Come on, people who don’t ship Ron and Hermione together aren’t all sexist or classist!”

Of course, of course! I know that! I’m not implying that!

But some of the “reasons” why they claim that Ron and Hermione can’t work - are extremely classist in nature, that’s just it!

Come on, think about it! What are the Number Ones arguments people always pull against Ron? Or the most common Ron-bashing tropes (look at fanfics and watch the number of stories that use at least one of those)?

Ron is stupid/mediocre

Ron is lazy/useless

Ron resents his wife’s hard work/success

Ron is a homophobe

Ron is a drunkard

Ron (the big prude who at 16 had never kissed a girl and sees a first kiss as the prelude to a wedding) is massively oversexed and cheats on Hermione with anything that moves

Not only do these “reasons” completely ignore ALL OF RON’S CHARACTERIZATION - except for the “lazy” bit but come off it, all teenagers are lazy and Hermione’s the exception to the rule - but it matches perfectly with the negative stereotypes associated with working-class white men in fiction.

It’s also very funny to note how many (assumedly middle-class or financially secure) fans look down on Ron for being “whiny” or “greedy” when he expresses the desire to have money of his own, or blame his parents for “not knowing when to stop” or “being irresponsible”, or even look down on them for being “too proud to accept help”!! Also how shocked people are when Ron dares to stand up for himself when Hermione or Harry act badly towards him. How dare this country boy not listen to the wisdom of his social “betters”?

So, obviously, because our Heroine can’t go with a Nasty, Mediocre Working-Class Man, she must be paired off with someone of Proper Status: say, a Hero that was raised in a middle-class home and might be a bit psychologically damaged but it’s nothing all those gold coins in his vault can’t fix; or this Rich Posh Aristocrat who actively rooted for her death, he’s a little bit eccentric and has some exotic pet-names to call you, but I’m sure you’ll learn to love him and will unearth the gold coins in his bank account… I mean, the heart of gold that lies within the surface; oh, why not a Way Too Big An Age Difference Teacher if you’re looking for a “cultured man” who has zero things in common with you; we can also bring Convenient Plot Device Famous Rich Foreign Athlete if you want some diversity and you don’t feel original!

But we can’t - oh, we mustn’t let her be with this Terrible Working-Class Boy! His brothers are fine, they have money, they have jobs, so they’re obviously Not As Mediocre. But let our precious Hermione be with this Just-Got-Out-Of-School hooligan? She can’t possibly be in love with him! You’ll see darling, you’ll get bored eventually! He’s too mediocre for you, you deserve a man who outclasses you - I mean, who can provide for you! You’re a fragile little flower who scars people for life when she’s not happy with them, what makes you think that this boy can possibly handle you even though he’s done so for the past seven years?

You wanted it, you got it.

People are shallow, have misconceptions about Ron’s character that they are unwilling to correct or use classist and sexist arguments to try to make it so that either Ron is the Devil himself / Hermione is a higher kind of being that can only orgasm if sufficiently “intellectually stimulated” / what-have-you.

[1ddotdhq]

⭐️ Tues Sept 15 ‘20 🦊

Lots and lots to get through! Let’s start with an update from my favorite thing from yesterday: the source of the Louis/Harry/Niall LAX rumor was found! Was it the anonymous mystery account we were led to believe? No - of course not! It was actually a fanfic writer, who was throwing around ideas, and someone took them as fact (as people on twitter do), and ran with it. From there it became one messy game of twitter-phone and we were left with a big pile of nothing. Well, that’s what I get for going fact-checking on twitter, I guess.

Let’s talk about things that ARE happening, for sure: Harry cancelled the rest of his shows for 2020 (I thought he had already, but okay) while assuring people that “I really hope to play the shows as planned for 2021 but will continue monitoring the situation over the coming weeks and months”. Idk what to tell you there, H, but France already cancelled at least one show for you, so maybe it’s time to start considering other options?

A podcast with Olivia Wilde dropped today, where she discusses “Don’t Worry Darling”. About the project she said, “It’s a wild and weird and totally bizarre film that we’re making, and we’re making it in the time of COVID which is wild in itself, and it’s such an endeavor. It’s something I’m so excited about in every single way, every single person who is a part of it–the people you mention, people who I can’t mention. What can I say.” This was recorded BEFORE it was confirmed that H was on board for the movie, so he wasn’t at all mentioned, but she describes the project as “fucking batshit - it’s nuts”. Maybe I’m gonna have to get over my aversion to thrillers and make it to the theatres for this one!

And, in another odd follow up from yesterday, Harry is rumored to be in a DIFFERENT Marvel project: he might be playing the MCU’s Starfox in an upcoming movie, although no title has been released, and there has been no official confirmation. The rumor started when a Netflix writer (Kris Tapley) said on September 11th that “Don’t Worry Darling” would be H’s SECOND project since Dunkirk “if we’re counting the Marvel movie no one knows he’s in”. Once again - this is not official, but the discourse around this potential project has, of course, taken off, and it is Mixed. Many fans (myself included!) would love to see him in a Marvel movie. A few others think that “he does not look like a superhero”. To those people, I’d like to pose a question: what does a superhero look like? Answer: like someone who plays a superhero. That’s it. That’s the only criteria.

If that wasn’t enough, Harry himself popped up in a fan pic in London. He HAS indeed shaved his mustache - and his beard lol - but his HAIR! Well, THAT was a TRENDING TOPIC worldwide today on twitter. It’s, um, curly and parted to the right, in case you’re wondering, in a wonderful imitation of Liam’s haircut. Do you think they share a hair stylist????

You know who HASN’T appeared anywhere, despite the Daily Fail’s publishing an article that says he’s been in LA throughout quarantine? Louis! He has been aggressively MIA for most of quarantine, and the few times he HAS been spotted, it’s been in and around London, and once in Doncaster for Lottie’s birthday. You know where he HASN’T been? Los Angeles! Sorry, but somebody better tell the media to get their stories straight square - he’s either in London with Eleanor or in LA with Freddie, but not both at the same time. I don’t know where he is, but rest assured that it isn’t with the Jungwirths/Clarks, who have been documenting every outing they have taken (kids included!) during this global pandemic. And, in fact, smart money says that neither option is what is happening!

Meanwhile, Niall got himself into some hot water on twitter, for, uh, making a joke? Yahoo.com put out an article that was called “Hear Me Out: Niall Horan Was The Best Member of One Direction”, to which Niall replied, “I’m listening 😂”. People....did not like that, and proclaimed that he was being “disrespectful” (oooh, buzzword!) to his other band mates by interacting at all. Niall then confirmed that he had not actually READ the article, he just thought the title was funny, and said, in what can only be read as an exasperated tone, “What’s everyone fighting with me over now? 😂”.

In other news, STREAM PILLOWTALK was also trending worldwide today, as fans try to get the music video to one BILLION view, so, you know, do it!

[fyeahhozier]

The Irishman is deeper and darker than he's maybe been given credit for... but the geniality and swoon factor remain high.

Variety: Hozier Proves He’s a Career Artist in Gratifying Greek Show

At Hozier’s sold-out show at L.A.’s Greek Friday night, one of the first things you couldn’t help noticing on stage —because it’s still an anomaly — was that his eight-piece lineup was half-male, half-female. Knowing his penchant for socially conscious songs, his decrial of “the anthems of rape culture” in his lyrics, and a general female-friendliness to his appeal, it’s easy to figure this gender parity is a conscious one and think: That is soooo Hozier. Which it is … and so effective, too, like just about every choice he’s made so far in his short, charmed career. On the most practical level, if you can bring in that much female harmony while also getting ace players in the bargain, why wouldn’t you? But it also makes for a good visual emblem of some of the other dual energies Hozier is playing with in his music: darkness and enlightenment; romantic hero and cad; raw blues dude and slick pop hero. He’s got a lot more going on than just being an earnest do-gooder. (Although he does do good, earnestly.)

During Friday’s hour-and-three-quarters set, Hozier focused largely on material from this year’s sophomore album, “Wasteland, Baby!,” which sounded good enough on record but almost uniformly improved in the live experience. Sometimes the upgrade came from making full use of the multi-instrumentalists on hand. The first album’s “Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene” now had Hozier on guitar facing off against violinist Emily Kohavi, trading solos — and if it’s hard to hear an electric guitar/fiddle duel without automatically thinking “The Devil Went Down to Georgia,” it was one of many welcome moments making use of the MVP skills of Kohavi, the newest addition to the band. Other times, the improvements on the album versions just had to do with Hozier allowing himself louder and gutsier guitar tones. He’s a bit like Prince, in that way — someone you’d happily listen to playing a very nasty-sounding six-string all night, although he has so many other stylistic fish to fry, which in this case means a still slightly greater emphasis on acoustic finger-picking.

For somebody who made his name on as forlorn but powerful an anthem as his 2014 breakout smash “Take Me to Church,” and who can milk that melodrama for all it’s worth, Hozier has a lot of other modes he can default to. He treads very lightly into the area of soul with songs like “Almost (Sweet Music),” the lyrics of which consist of either name-checking or alluding to some of the great jazz vocal classics of the 20th century, in an idiom that’s not so much jazzy itself as folk-R&B. You could almost cite it as the subtle kind of Memphis-swing thing Justin Timberlake should aspire to, if the tricky polyrhythm and oddly chopped up meters Hozier adds as wrinkles weren’t so un-replicable. Bringing up Stevie Wonder’s “Living for the City” as the night’s sole cover also established that early ‘70s era and sound as an influences he’d like to make perfectly clear. At the other extreme, this son of a blues musician can hard back to those roots so well, in noisy numbers like “Moment’s Silence (Common Tongue)” and the brand new “Jack Boot Jump,” that he could give the Black Keys a run for their money.

“Jack Boot Jump,” which is scheduled to go on an EP of completely fresh material that Hozier said he plans to put out before Christmas, was possibly the highlight of the night, even though — or because — it stripped his excellent band down to just him and longtime drummer Rory Doyle. Having earlier played the current album’s “Nina Cried Power,” which is maybe more of a tribute to other historic protest songs than one of its own, Hozier gave a lengthy introduction to “Jack Boot” indicating that he’s aware of the traps that come with the territory. “I do have some reservations about the words ‘protest song’ and ‘protest music,’” he admitted. “But if you’re familiar with an artist called Woody Guthrie, he wrote the evergreen anthem ‘Tear the Fascists’ down. I was kind of looking into songs in that sort of tradition, that singing out, and I was worried that this is 2019; it’s a very unsubtle way to approach songwriting.” But, he added, “it was a funny few weeks, with 70 people shot in Hong Kong and arrests obviously in Moscow; Chile now at the moment also. And I was thinking, forget about subtle art — what is not subtle is this murder of protesters, and what is not subtle is the jack boot coming down in Orwell’s picture of the future: ‘If you want to imagine the future, imagine a jack boot stomping on a human face forever,’ that chilling quote from ‘1984.’ Anyway, I was just thinking, yeah, f— it, it’s not subtle, but let’s do it.” His electric guitar proceeded to be a machine that kills fascists, and also just slayed as maybe the most rock ‘n’ roll thing he’s written. (Evidence of the new song on the web is scant, or should be, anyway, since he begged the audience “in good faith” not to film it.)

If there’s a knock people have on Hozier, it tends to be the sincerity thing. He’s a nice guy who’s finishing first, which doesn’t necessarily help him become an indie-rock darling or Pitchfork favorite. (Predictably, “Wasteland, Baby!” got a 4.8 rating there — that’s out of 10, not 5.) At the Greek, there was an almost wholesome feeling that would’ve been an immediate turnoff to anyone who insists on having their rock rough, starting with his graciousness in repeatedly naming the band members and repeatedly thanking his opening act (Madison Ryann Ward, a fetchingly husky-voiced Oklahoman filling in on this part of the tour for a laryngitis-stricken Freya Ridings). That extended to a sense of uplift in many of the songs that doesn’t always match the themes of the material. But then, there was the impossible good cheer and attractiveness of the young players, to match Hozier’s own; this is a group where everyone looks as if they could be in Taylor Swift’s band or actually looks like Taylor Swift. The swoon factor in Hozier’s appeal is undeniably high, and it’s safe to say no one left Griffith Park less smitten.

But ladies (and gentlemen), do be aware that Hozier has some dark-side moments that can almost make Leonard Cohen look like Stephen Bishop. The only time he really overtly accentuated that in concert was in introducing and playing the new album’s “No Plan,” a love song that is also an amiable statement of atheism in which Hozier reminds his beloved that the universe is going to collapse upon itself someday. This may be rather like the gambit in which the ‘50s boy gets the girl to make out with him in a fallout shelter, but in any case, Hozier didn’t stint on the end-of-all-things aspect of it, even putting up on screen behind the band a statement from astrophysicist Dr. Katie Mack pointing out humankind’s and the galaxy’s ultimate fate. (“Honestly I never really imagined I’d end up being name-checked in a song for talking about how the universe is eventually going to fade out and die so this is all very exciting for me,” Mack tweeted in replay earlier in the year.) Suffice it to say that with that soulful a vintage ‘70s groove and that fuzz-tastic a guitar line, many babies will be conceived to the tune of “No Plan,” whether it foresees generational lines ending in a godless black hole or not.

Other Hozier songs reveal darker gets more estimable the more you dig into it. With its bird talk, “Shrike” sounds sweet enough, till you realize that a shrike is a kind of bird that impales its prey on thorns, which does add a rather bloody metaphoric undertone to what sounds like a reasonably pacifist breakup song. “Dinner & Diatribes,” meanwhile, is just deeply horny, not thorny. The most brooding song of the set, “Talk,” has verses where Hozier sings in lofty, literary terms about the romantic myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, only to reveal in the chorus that he’s talking to this woman in such high-minded terms because he just wants to charm her into the sack. As a piece of writing, it’s hilarious, establishing a devilish side of Hozier it’s good to hear. As a piece of performance, it’s just sexy.

But as enriching as it is to realize Hozier has a healthy sense of humor in his writing, bad-boy wit is never going to be what you’re going to come away from a Hozier album or show with. The main part of Friday’s concert ended, as expected, with “Take Me to Church,” his outraged take on abuse and homophobia in the scandalized Catholic church — which just happens to be easily taken as a lusty hymn to sexuality. Following that, the large band returned to a stage that had now been decked out in some kind of ivy, as Hozier talked about his love for the late Irish poet Seamus Heaney (whose last words he has tattooed on his arm) and, “since I’ve come this far,” went ahead and recited his poem “Mint,” sharing his hero’s affection for the plant and its “tenacity for life.”

Tenacity is likely to be a buzzword, too, for Hozier, given his leaps and gains as a writer-performer and seeming level head atop his tree-top shoulders. Taller still of voice, musical dexterity and good will — and still just 29 —  he’s somebody the swooners and even some cynics should feel good about settling in with for a very long Irish ride.

[coffeecrusadeclub]

Marry You

Cyrus POV:

I paced back and forth the living room of my 2 bedroom apartment. TJ was at work and I had Andi, Buffy, and Jonah over trying to prepare for my date with him tonight. It wasn’t our first date, and hopefully not our last. It was just our normal Friday Date Night, except it wasn’t. Not for me anyway. You see I had been planning to propose to TJ for months and today was finally the day, and man were nerves hitting hard.

“Cyrus! Cyrus stop!” Andi exclaimed pulling me from my thoughts, while Buffy grabbed my shoulders to stop me from pacing.

“Everything is going to be fine Cyrus. He’s going to say yes” Buffy loosened her grip on my shoulders and we sat down across from Andi and Jonah. 

“But what if he doesn’t! What if he says um! What if he says he has to use the bathroom and leaves! What if-”

“Cyrus!” All three shouted, stopping my ramble from going further.

“He’s going to say yes Cy-guy” Jonah smiled softly at me

“Just relax, breathe Cyrus. There is no reason to stress out” Andi squeezed my hand softly.

“Easy for you to say! You’re not the one proposing!” I exclaimed back frantically, causing the whole group to laugh

“Well Cyrus, may we remind you she proposed to Amber, and was not nearly this stressed” Buffy laughed, shoving me playfully.

“Yeah well- that was different okay!” I put my head down on the table.

“Cyrus I promise you it’s going to be okay” Buffy put a hand on my shoulder

“But what if it’s not. We couldn’t be more different. What if- what if he’s only dating me still because he feels bad? I’m sure he’s gotten tired of me complaining all the time. Or tired of having to deal with me on bad days, which are often I-” I cut myself off and sighed

“Cy have you seen the way he looks at you?” Andi questioned

“Or how he talks about you, man when you aren’t around he talks about you as if you were water and he was dying of thirst.” Jonah stated laughing softly

“And when we play basketball all I have to do is shout ‘hey Cyrus’ and he gets distracted instantly and starts fixing his hair” Buffy added and I shoved her playfully

“Hey that’s cheating! You use me to cheat” I joked

“I don’t use you to cheat. I use your name, there’s a difference Cy” she teased

“Still!” I smiled softly before taking a deep breath

“Alright lets get you ready its already 7, he’ll be here in a few minutes. So that means you don’t have much of a head start”  Andi announced 

As if he had been summoned, we heard TJ’s keys jingle and he walked in.

“You guys! I was waiting for you to buzz me up for 15 minutes! Where are your phones!?” Marty exclaimed walking in behind TJ.

“Oops sorry love” Buffy greeted her boyfriend with a kiss

“I still don’t get why you are all here to help us get ready. Its just date night, we do this every week” TJ laughed as he put his keys on the counter.

“Because we haven’t helped you get ready for a date night in awhile and we have nothing better to do so me and Andi are making the boys help” Buffy replied. TJ believed that because luckily enough for us that was exactly like something they would do.

“Alright no more chit chat. TJ hurry and take a shower. A FAST shower, Me and Jonah are helping Cyrus so by the time you get out we should have already picked out clothes and whatever hair supplies we need and made it into the guest room. Marty and Buffy are helping you in the main bedroom ok? ok. Lets go!” Andi order and we all followed commands.

~~~

It took about half an hour to get me ready, it took TJ 10 minutes longer because of his shower. Jonah, Andi, and I had been seated in the living room when Buffy and Marty made their way into the hall.

“Cyrus Goodman, may we now present to you the boy you are for some reason in love with..” Buffy started, causing me to blush.

“Mr. TJ Kippen! Can you take the floor please” Marty finished as they moved out of the way to reveal TJ. I stood up and smiled at him

“You look- you look amazing TJ.” I walked over to him and wrapped my arms around his waist.

“Same to you darling dearest” TJ smiled at me, softly leaning in to kiss me.

“Ok! Hurry go your reservations are in 15 minutes!” Buffy shouted pulling us apart and rushing us out the door.

“Alright Driscoll we’re going. And hey guys? Don’t be here when we get home yeah?” TJ smirked at them and a blush crept along my face as they all agreed they’d be gone.

~~~

After dinner I ended up in the drivers side of our car, with TJ in the passenger seat unsure of where we were going.

“Hey you missed the turn” TJ instructed pointed backwards

“No I didn’t we aren’t going home love” I smiled, softly pressing my hand against my sweater pocket where the box, holding the ring, was located.

“Where are we going? I want to go home and have you to myself. I don’t want to share you anymore today, I wanted to show you something” TJ whined. I giggled in response.

“We are going to the park. We haven’t been to the swings in awhile, I miss them” I smiled. 

It was only half a lie. We were going to the swings, and it had been awhile. But we weren’t going because I missed them. That’s where I was going to propose. It had been the first place we truly got to talk to each other, where we had made up after our first big fight, where we had our first kiss, where we went after our first date, where he asked me on our first date... Its a spot thats special to us in a way most people wouldn’t get and that’s what made it the perfect spot to propose.

We pulled into the park and I looked towards the swings and smiled. Buffy and Andi had went ahead and put up fairy lights hanging from the swings. I knew they were still here but wasn’t sure where. Andi was here to take pictures and I knew Buffy was with her and possibly one of the boys since it was dark out.

“What the- Why is there lights on the swing set?” TJ questioned

“Just another service they provide” I smiled and TJ gave me a confused look and I laughed, “Andi and Buffy knew I was bringing you here, they must’ve done this.” 

“Wow they really weren’t joking when they said they had nothing better to go” TJ laughed as we sat side by side on the swings. We sat in silence for awhile before TJ broke the silence.

“Do you remember the first time we were here? You were singing your swing set song”

“Yeah I still remember it too. Legs go up, legs go down that’s how we make the swing go round. Drag your feet you go slow, the more you drag the less you go..” I paused, a light blush growing across my face, “God I was embarrassing.” 

“I thought it was endearing. I asked if you had a song for the slides but I didn’t expect you to actually have one”

“Oh my gosh tell me you don’t remember that” I laughed

“Oh I definitely remember! We go down, We say yay. We don’t climb up thats the wrong way.”

“No o m g stop TJ why do you remember that!?”

“Because it was cute.. God I still remember how nervous you were though I feel bad, you were scared of me”

“That was because I didn’t know you. You can be intimidating you know” I smiled at the memory of that conversation

“I remember.. that moment was so powerful.. I think that was when I had fully accepted I had a crush on you” TJ smiled

“When did you start falling for me?” I asked curiously, a mischievous smile on my face. I had wanted to know the answer for so long but he never told me.

“Remember that night at the basketball game? I wasn’t playing and you went to check on me and I tried to push you away but of course that didn’t work. I think the moment I realized was I was falling was when I said I didn’t want to tell people about my learning disability.. You said its an overused buzzword, there was nothing wrong with me. That was the moment I realized I was screwed, I had fallen for you.” he smiled softly at me and I took his hand

“Well for me, I realized it later.. I had had a crush before but it was different. It was like a hype thing for me. You? I fell for you slowly then all at once..” I paused and TJ let out a soft laugh

“Did you really just quote the fault in our stars?” He nudged me a bright smile on his face.

“Yes now shush so I can finish.” I paused and kissed his nose before continuing. “I think the moment I started to fall was when you apologized to a trashcan to sit with us” I laughed, “But that wasn’t the moment I realized. For me the moment I realized was when you rapped an apology to Buffy”

“Oh God you remember that? Please don’t repeat it” TJ laughed and started swinging a little higher

“I do remember but I won’t sing it because you asked..” I paused its now or never right? “Hey stop swinging babe I want to ask you something”

I watched as TJ slowed his swing to a stop, “Sure whats wrong love?”

I took a deep breath and nodded, “TJ I love you more than anyone in this world, I don’t think I could live without you in my life. It has been 13 years since we met, 11 since we started dating.” I paused kneeling and pulling the box out of my pocket, revealing the ring inside it.

“Cyrus..” TJ whispered, tears in his eyes

“I would be the luckiest guy on the planet if you said yes... Thelonious Jagger Kippen.. Will you marry me?”

“Cyrus I- um-”

“Um? No don’t say um” I stood up in a panic and took his silence as an opportunity to panic. “Um means no, We are going to be like Bex and Bowie. You’re going to say um and then in a few months you’ll ask and I’ll say um and then a few months after we’ll both say yes but then you’ll say no and the-”

I was cut off suddenly as TJ pressed his lips against mine, kissing me until he felt I had relaxed.

“Cyrus the answer is yes, it was always going to be yes” He said, seconds after pulling away

“But you said um... um means no...” I replied, avoiding his eyes.

He lifted my chin with his hand so I was looking at him, “Cyrus I said um because you beat me to the punchline” He smiled softly and I gave him a look of confusion. He reached down and pulled a small red box similar to the one I had dropped on the floor in panic.

“I was going to propose too... at dinner but Buffy and Marty said to wait, I guess they wanted you to beat me”

“They wanted to take pictures, they’re hiding somewhere watching” I laughed pulling him closer to me.

He laughed too, wrapping his arms around my waist, our faces inches away from each other. “So what do you say... Will You Marry me Underdog?”

“Absolutely Teej. Will you marry me?”

“Yes” He replied closing the gap between us, kissing me as he lifted me up and spun. “Yes absolutely yes” He continued happily as he put me down.

We stayed like that for a few minutes, his arms around my waist, mine around his neck, Only to be disturbed by the sound of Andi dropping her camera and not so quietly cursing Jonah for pushing her. We laughed turning to where we had heard our friends. This is what I had to look forward to for the rest of forever, I couldn’t be more thrilled.

---

I was gona be mean and leave it off at TJ saying um and then reblog with the rest but I didn’t. Your welcome lol. This was longer than I meant for it to be but I hope you liked it please reblog thank you love yall!

[borisbubbles]

Eurovision 2010s: 95 - 91

95. Duncan Laurence - “Arcade” the Netherlands 2019

2019 will forever go down as the year where Europe learned all about piano ballads and bisexuality, which we have Duncan to thank for! Inclusive icon <3 And let us be honest, “Arcade” was pretty awesome. It’s a wonderfully immersive moody ballad that connects deeply on a personal level, peppered with instantly memorable gutpunchers (”Loving you is a losing game” is both an amazing line and painfully relatable). Excellent backdrop and camerawork gave the song a vibe of palpable desolation. Major props of this camera shot near the end:

^ this is a moneymaker. Well done, Hans Pancake. 

And the most important thing is, ummm, hello, the Netherlands will host Eurovision 2020, meaning I can attend next year in person without bankrupting myself. 😍 

However, despite the fact that “Arcade” is a pretty great entry overall, it has one GIANT problem: The act is terrible, and I *will* ::cracks knuckles:: proceed to roast the shit out of it. 🤜😤🤛

Now, I understand what Hans was going for his usual tryhard pseudo-cinematic spiel. However, -and independendly from my general distaste for the ‘White Guy With a Piano’ trope (this is 2019 how is anyone still gushing over them like they’re a fucking novelty O__O)-, sitting down is always a losing game. It is a momentum-slayer, and therefore never a good idea. The fact that they kept on tweaking the camera angles during the rehearsals says enough, honestly. The Dutch tried to amend the lack of dynamism with that stupid glowing orb and I mean:

Duncan is actually a fairly attractive dude but that lightning makes him look as if he’s terminally ill. You know when you DON’T get bad lighting angles such as this? When you stand up, like a normal fucking person. 😤

Many others also critically panned that (let’s be honest) ugly-as-sin piano. The Dutch delegation responded with the usual pretentious rubbish:

um sorry wrong shitpost, hang on... ah, found the right one:

and I mean, who the fuck cares? Just because it’s ~vintage~ doesn’t mean it’s not ugly. Just because it’s ~vintage~ doesn’t mean we have to like it? Not  a single casual fan will recognize that piano as a vintage prop, just as an hideous one, WHICH. IT. IS. The pretentious elitism/glaring stupidity behind it all just makes me wanna SPITT!! 😤 Karma quickly caught up with the Dutch arrogance however when their 56% or whatever ridiculous winner odds they had amounted to... Third place with the juries and Second Place with the audience. 😈 and “Soldi” becoming the europe-wide summer hit instead of “Arcade” 😈 In the immortal words of Kim Kardashian, #ItIsWhatSheDeserves. 

________________________________________________________________

94. Lucie Jones - “Never give up on you” United Kingdom 2017

[2017 Review here]

It seems the UK is limited to ONE great entry per decade, but Lucie definitely deserving of love. “Never give up on you” transformed from the most boring song ever into a genuinely gripping support song and well, it’s really great? Lucie is a cherub-voiced seraph who carries this song into the highest powerballad eschelons and that’s no easy feat!

Unfortunately, the UK, like always, fell victim to anti-Brexit sabotage causing them to flop!! 

Damn’ you Remainers, will the bullying EVER END???? and that was the UK,

Honestly, I expected much worse given how blasé the BBC usually is towards Eurovision? It’s really not the fault of their entrants though, who always give their all and get screwed over through circumstance. Yes, “Brexit” is the buzzword being tossed around as a humorous excuse for the non-stop British failures, but let’s be honest we all know it’s just the BBC’s attitude towards ESC. Perhaps the Big 5 should have a Brexit of its own...x

_______________________________________________________________

93. Amir - “J’ai cherché” France 2016

Shock boot? Well, no I think #93 is actually a really good spot for Amir. After booting most glorious trashfests that are bad songs, it becomes time to slowly boot the good songs that aren’t trashy. 😭 

However, I do recognize Amir as a well-deserving ~Legendary~ French entry. It feels like a long time ago, but France was one of the most underperforming countries in Eurovision until Amir strolled along to capture everyone’s hearts with his irresistable magnetism <3 “J’ai cherché” is an infectuously cheerful song, with it’s toe-tapping goodness brightening up my day every time I listen-listen. 

That said, I DO have to put my big boy panties on and make a big boy decision: We’re closely making way towards the god-tier and the further we go, the less “this is a good song and little else” is going to cut it. THANK YOUOUOUOUOUOU FOR MAKING-MAKING FRANCE STRONG AGAIN, THOUGH ^__^

________________________________________________________________

92.  Sunstroke Project - “Hey Mamma” Moldova 2017

[2017 Review here]

GLORIOUS MEMELORDS <3

It came as a surprise at the time, but retroactively we all should’ve seen Sunstroke’s top 3 finish from lightyears away. Other than Olia, “Hey Mamma” has all the ingredients that made “Runaway” good, but improves them. There is EPIC SAX

There is instant hilarity of their trademark non-English (”I AM NOT THAT UNFOUNDED BOY” lmao what???)

There is a ridiculous underlying storyline (song about an angry mother-in-law / pre-marital sex <3)

There are wacky visuals, such as this ICONIC leg choreography

or the JUST AS memorable bridesmaid twist: 

It really just is the old Moldovan adage of transforming nothing into EVERYTHING using a few very clever stage-hacks, but brought to a whole higher level. 😍 Sometimes I wonder whether we are worthy of their presence, but as long as Moldova continue blessing us with their staging magic, Eurovision will be a better place.  

________________________________________________________________

91. Malcolm Lincoln & Manpower 4 - “Siren” Estonia 2010

One of the things that make Estonia my favourite country in Eurovision (as well as a top 5 country in *general*), is that they are MASTERS of the alternative genre. 😍 Eesti Laul is so fun because of... um well, mostly because of all the ridiculously named bands that compete in their NF (Vanilla Ninja <3 Tenfold Rabbit <3 Facelift Deer <3), but also because it’s a place for refuge for indie darlings, quite unlike any other ESC country.

However, “Siren” marks the only time one of said indie darlings actually won Eesti Laul and that makes them very special to me. The song is a beautiful, haunting, touching ethereal soliloquy on how lame life has been and the yearning for the strength to carry on... which, I don’t know about you, but GOSH SO RELATABLE!!! 

Further enhanced by the fact that Robin Jukhental is a lovable dork, hopping around the stage as an avatar of social anxiety, as his second-in-command absolutely WRECKS that piano <3. In other words, the exact type of entry the audience would despise but I am smitten by. ANGELS <3

[givemearmstopraywith]

OMG u work in a museum??? what did u have to do to get a job there bc i’m trying to work in a museum but i have no idea where to start

the first thing i would do is try to decide what aspect of working in a museum you would be best suited to- there’s a lot that goes on there! would you be good at being a tour guide? at visitor services? at creating exhibits? at archiving and cataloguing? all of these things require different skillsets. i’m an english literature major, and one of my career goals is to get into document preservation, archival studies, and curatorial work, so i taught myself the local and national guidelines for archives and historic cataloguing. it’s not complete or official, but i’m familiar enough with it that i can put it on a resume. 

the job i currently have started as a summer internship as a visitor services assistant, then i was asked to stay on permanently. the position was paid- don’t settle for an unpaid internship, no matter how lucrative it seems!!! at the beginning of the summer i checked indeed for jobs with the keyword ‘museum’ and applied to all of them, on their respective websites, with a resume and cover letter. i am at something of advantage because most of my background is in some level of archival or historic work (i was a historic re-enactor during high school and spent two summers as an archival assistant at a local cemetery).

the main thing is to express an interest in the main goal of the museum. i work in a car museum- i’m not at all interested in cars, but i am interested in local history and postindustrial history. i played that up as my strong suit, and that’s what won me the job. 

one of the best things i did was find a free workshop where i got one on one help with my resume and cover letter. they taught me how to talk about myself and my skills using words that would allow me to get the jobs i wanted even if i didn’t have the experience they said the required. talk yourself up. fill your resume and cover letter with buzzwords. emphasize your passion for the position. working in a museum is not always fun, quiet, and quirky- it is extremely stressful, people always have suggestions about and problems with things we cannot change, and 90% of my job is telling people not to touch things. but it is a ton of fun. 

good luck with your job hunt darling, and if you have any more questions feel free to shoot me another message on or off anon!! hope this helps a bit.

[devilsknotrp]

Congratulations, M! You have been accepted for the role of Sandy Silverman (FC:Nicole Kidman). As Mandy’s player, I was understandably anxious to find a player who could articulate the muddy depths of Sandy Silverman... I shouldn’t have even worried. Your application is absolutely incredible. Your writing sample alone made us both so excited, because something as simple as ringing the hotline for Brian is loaded with meaning and intent. We have to spotlight your headcanons. Fleshing out her backstory allowed us to see how much has happened to Sandy. The glimpses of Phillip (putting out a cigarette in his food: oh, God) were painful reminders of how complex domestic power structures can be. You have given Sandy such life. It will be truly wonderful to see her develop in game. Please have a look at this page prior to sending in your account.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Name: M Age: 24 Pronouns: She/her Timezone: GMT-5 Activity estimation: I have a full time job and other commitments but I’ll try to reply a couple times a week! Triggers: REDACTED

IN CHARACTER

Full name: Sandra Kathleen Silverman, née Moore Age (DD/MM/YYYY): Fifty five (08/04/41) – Leo Gender: Cisgender woman Pronouns: She/her Sexuality: Lesbian (closeted, even to herself) Occupation: Real Estate Agent, Great Lake Homes Connection to Victim: Sandy sold Linda the home in which the Goode family currently resides. She also sees Linda from time to time at PTA meetings – when Sandy manages to show up, that is – since they both have children in high school. And since Brian’s disappearance bears a resemblance to Pete’s disappearance years ago, Sandy feels an unusual connection with Linda. Alibi: Sandy reluctantly took Pete shopping in the morning, and dropped him off at home afterwards. She headed to the office to grab a few papers for a client and spent the afternoon preparing a house for its viewing scheduled for the following day. Faceclaim: Nicole Kidman

WRITING SAMPLE

The line rang three times before someone picked up. “You’ve reached the Brian Goode tip-line,” a man said, voice crackling through the phone line like crumpled paper. The voice was monotone. Sandy had clearly not been the first person to call this morning. She hitched her shoulder up, using the bony part at the top to press the receiver against her ear so she could take a sip from her coffee mug. A Michigan Nip, of course. 

“Hi, good morning, I’ve been meaning to call you,” she said. One week had passed and Brian Goode was still a ghost. 

Sandy’s eyes were focused on the phone keypad. If she looked hard enough, she’d swear that some of the numbers had been worn down just a bit more than the rest. All those calls, back and forth, twelve years ago. She practically had the department’s number memorized at this point. “It’s just terrible, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but we’re doing the best we can right now, ma’am,” the man said, and Sandy couldn’t contain the snort of laughter that came flying out. She was standing in very spot where she’d learned that her son was alive, and that her husband was dead. She’d never felt that the Devil’s Knot Police Department had done their best at just about anything. “Do you have any information to report?” he asked.

“Oh, yes, certainly. I was just calling to ask about the case, though. Do you have any leads yet?” Sandy asked the question matter-of-factly, and took another sip. After how long it had taken Charlie Taylor to botch everything last time, she figured the department owed her some goddamned information. 

There was a pause. “Ma’am, this is a tip line,” he said. The pitch of his voice rose at the end like he wasn’t sure if he should be asking or telling.

“I know,” Sandy said. “I thought the main line would be busy, and maybe I could get some information from you instead.” She heard shuffling behind her and turned over her shoulder to make eye contact with her son. “Just tell the Sheriff that it’s Sandy, he’ll understand,” she said, eyebrows raised, and shooed Peter away with a quick wave of her hand. The last thing she needed was for him to get re-traumatized, or whatever Dr. Shah had called it. She’d written some psychology buzzwords down a few years ago in case Sandy ever wanted to go to the public library and check a book out. In all likelihood, the piece of paper had gone through the wash in one of her pants pockets and disappeared entirely. 

There was another pause. Longer this time. He gave a sigh that crackled in her ear. “Mrs. Silverman, I – “

“Officer, come on,” Sandy interrupted, “Don’t you know what happened to my family?” Of course he did. Everyone did. 

“Yes, and I’m very sorry, but it’s ongoing investigation. If you have any information that you think could be helpful, please let us know.”

Twelve years later and apparently the department hadn’t gotten any better since Charlie Taylor resigned in disgrace. Sandy tipped the mug back and took a large gulp. The splash of whisky burned in her throat. “Let’s just hope you’re doing a better job this time around.” She looked down at her empty mug. The spiral cord trailed behind her as she took a few steps toward the counter to put it in the sink. “It didn’t take you a week to find my son in ’84. Do your fucking job. Good day,” Sandy said, and hung up.

ANYTHING ELSE?

Here is my Pinterest board for Sandy! 

Sandy grew up in a very traditional family. Her father was a physician, her mother a homemaker. She watched from a young age how the men in her life took up space; how they showed cruelty in the way they spoke loudly, making rules that only they were allowed to break. Irene, Sandy’s mother, taught her how to make herself pretty and small, so boys would like her. Her older brother was the pride of the family; all chiseled jaw and boyish charm, just handsome enough to get away with anything. The pedestal he lived on was so high she could barely see the bottom of it. She was just a girl, raised in chains, her parent’s Little Darling, unobtrusive and accommodating. Never enough, because she was never allowed to be. This disconnect deepened as she grew older – but if her parents wanted her to be a young lady, Sandy would be the best young lady in all of Indiana. She’d perform perfectly.

She was always good at getting people to like her. In high school, all it took was becoming cheer captain and giving out blowjobs after school in the parking lot. She was a good girl. Sloppy Sandy, they called her. It didn’t matter. They all cheered when she became prom queen, anyway. She went on to study sculpture at Moore College of Art and Design, and told the other girls that her family had been the one to give the school its name. Just to see their faces light up. Sculpting gave her permission, for once in her life, to stick her hands in the mud. When her mother referred to sculpture as a fine hobby, Sandy knew it was code for a pit stop on your way to marriage.

Phillip and Sandy met on a blind date. Irene introduced the idea during one of their mother-daughter dates at the beauty parlor. She waited until Sandy’s fingers were in the manicurist’s hands to inform her that Phillip Silverman would be picking her up that evening. Seven o’clock, sharp. Good genes, she said. Handsome. His mother had been crowned Miss Indiana in ‘22, after all. Irene had just been runner-up. Sandy agreed, of course, because she had to.

The following year, they were married. Phillip was a kind man, and everyone loved him, so Sandy did too. The word wife felt funny in her mouth when she said it out loud, so she put on an apron and shopped at Macy’s and picked up pilates. If she shaped herself into Woman incarnate, it made it all better, somehow. When she gave birth at twenty-five, the post-partum depression swallowed her whole. It left the dishes unwashed, diapers unchanged, and to-do list unchecked. She spent more time in bed than her infant daughter did. Phillip learned to bring the baby to their bedroom to breastfeed. More often than not, when she cradled their daughter in her arms, Sandy would start to cry. Bad mother, bad bad bad, she thought. Phillip seemed to think so too. It didn’t take long for the GP to write her a prescription for Valium. It helped. She started drinking more, and that helped too.

As Amanda grew, Sandy drank. Post post-partum depression, maybe. She didn’t have an excuse then; she just gave up. Sandy tried to fashion her daughter into a reflection of herself – dressing her in pink, putting her in cheerleading, teaching her to smile – but the connection felt irreparable. Thankfully, Phillip took over the bulk of the parental duties. He never let her forget it. At least the resentment was mutual; at family dinner, Sandy put her cigarettes out in Phillip’s food to let him know he’d eaten enough. No one was going to be fat in her family. Another child was out of the question, but sometimes, when Sandy was drunk, she forgot to take her birth control. The post-partum depression knocked her on her feet so badly the second time around that she got her tubes tied. After the procedure, she drove down to the beauty parlor for a manicure.

Sandy remembers very little of the two days her husband and son were missing. The panic was paralyzing. She was drunk when she got the call that Peter had been found; she drove to the hospital and took out two bushes in the parking lot with Mandy in the passenger seat. Her boy was alive! Later, when they found Phillip, grief was quickly washed out by rage. Why had he done this to them – to her? Everyone who’d called her the bad parent could kiss her well-toned ass. And they did. For a while, at least, when the frenzy was still about the poor Silverman family. A small part of her liked the attention. Finally, someone in Devil’s Knot gave a shit about Sandy Silverman when she was sober.

The rumors were relentless. Soon enough, the town was going to swallow itself whole. One morning, their dog Bonnie turned up dead in the front yard, blood pooling on the overgrown grass. Sandy got in the car in her silk pajamas, went down to the police department, and told Charlie Taylor just how badly he was fucking the whole thing sideways. Three months was too long. When they finally arrested Max Acosta, Sandy didn’t even care if he was guilty. She was tired. They asked her to corroborate the argument between Max and Phillip. She remembered the incident in a half-hazy way, but it must’ve been Fourth of July because she’d been drinking watermelon punch. Phillip must’ve started the argument, the bonehead. I have a sense about these things, trust me.

After the trial, she set Peter up with a psychologist because God knows she wasn’t equipped to deal with that. The children still felt far away, somewhere inaccessible to her, even after all that happened. Sandy tried joining the PTA, but that required sobriety on a Wednesday night, which meant her attendance was sparse. She got a real job, finally. Sandy Silverman, Real Estate Agent, Great Lake Homes. With a card and everything. Being a salesman is like being a woman: a test of how much you can endure. All the happy wives and mothers must be lying to themselves too, right? It’s just contest to see who can keep the smile pasted on her face the longest. Well, Sandy Silverman’s a professional, and she’s good at that too. She’s the best at it. And she’ll show you!

[dechtires-blog]

Pure Fit Keto That Will Actually Make Your Life Better

We can say that is a small pure fit keto inside a bigger the transaction. How can kids receive distinguished pure

fit keto goods? What will we imagine next? That buzzword is hard enough without counselors making it harder for

you. This modulation is surely affordable. It hasn't happened yet. Let's connect with that idea. I know pure fit

keto stock is an investor darling. This is not explosive. It's an uneasy emotion for me to to do that like this.

I may want to grab the bull by the horns. Some it research has found that giving party crashers too much a

happenstance is good. Over time, pure fit keto will actually wear on you.

That is a complete arsenal of pure fit keto. Here are several normal systems. Do you need to push this aside?

We're building disdain for your dividend. This is subject to economic change but the logistics of it aren't

immediately obvious but they're really simple. Do I need to spell everything out? That was by this time enclosed

in the package. Nearly 60% of poll respondents reported that fact pertaining to the novelty. Here are a couple of

actionable ideas, so follow them. This is cut and dried. That should be invaluable help to you. It may not seem

logical, but I simply can't believe that. This quote encourages me, "The burnt child fears the fire." They're

looking in from the outside. Somehow or another, "What's the frequency, Kenneth?" I wouldn't continue to do it if

using it wasn't profitable. https://supplementengine.co.za/pure-fit-keto/

[readbetweentheli-es]

[NEGATIVE POST ALERT] Vent out.

Let me collect my thoughts for a little bit.

No, darlings, a manager is not only for manage. A manager who doesn't know the profession what he / she needs to manage - sooner or later will be a clown only. Actually is a clown...

Yes, nowadays the hardest thing to do successfully in a workplace is simply doing the bloody job.

Yes, instead of people, only the fashion of generating huge sh_tstorm of fake buzzwords is thriving. Not you, not me, the buzzwords only.

No, we don't need meetings three times a week with the same team about the same subjects, with a different title. No. Unless you want to take away expensive working hours from your own business.

No, we don't need to force a well-selling and expensive project management method on a team with three members. If I remember what "common sense" means, so do you.

No, organising team building events or weekends won't make the team working better. No one wants to be handled as toddler for a weekend, building castles from toilet rolls or go treasure hunting all around the city for "fun". Literally no one.

No, I don't want to show even a little slice of my home (a. k. a. my personal life) to you via video call. I know you are very curious, but please don't force it, let's focus on the job.

Yes please, if I ask you to keep an information (like death of a relative) private, because I don't want anyone to ask idiot questions; PLEASE don't broadcast it via your meetings anyway.

No, boss, I don't want to be on social media. I know it would make the "getting to know each other" timeline shorter, and based on my uploads you could judge me and think you know me, but no. I won't make your life easier, because I appreciate others' privacy too. Like yours.

No, I didn't do the "Couch to 5K". I do workouts regularly instead.

No, completing expensive five slide courses and having colourful certificates of disability, LGBTQ, Black Lives Matter, etc. will not make you a better person automatically. Again, common sense.

No, I don't want to have an office pet. We have enough chimps, rats, snakes and bitches around anyway.

PS for extra points: Can you tell me when will we start doing the actual job please?

Thanks for now. To be continued.

[dhill202-blog]

The Top Business Trends You Must Keep in Mind

As you know, we are living in an environment where it is"blink," and you missed it. Nevertheless, there's always an urgent need to stay on top of what's happening so you can stay ahead in business. I have several companies and, frankly, I do not think there is a single day I am not thinking about how to make things better and enhance our competitive edge in our businesses. 

They had been hemorrhaging money and not paying attention to the shifting winds. The fact is I can sit here now and write what you need to be searching for in business trends and then a year from now, write the exact same sort of article with unique ideas to keep an eye on as business and society evolve. 

Nonetheless, there are a few areas that I believe will stay constant and you need to pay attention to in your organization. Always Pay Additional Attention to Millennials For decades and decades, the"darling" of generations were the Baby Boomers due to their sheer size and purchasing power. 

As the Boomers are now seniors, the exact same can be said about Millennials. They'll be, and are, a force for years to come and they're the first generation that's pure digital natives. Your services and products should be promoted to them and how they think. 

Get Started With AI, IoT, and ML What was buzzwords like AI, IoT, and ML, aren't anymore. They're not the future; they're the present. Most of you know about AI (Artificial intelligence), IoT (Internet of Things), but perhaps you haven't heard about ML (Machine Learning). 

Machine learning is when computers do things without being programmed to do it as they're learning it for themselves. Through machine learning, we're given self-driving cars, exceptional search tools, practical speech recognition applications and a host of other programs. 

As technology evolves, each one these components will play a more substantial role in life and business. Remote Workforce I have a taste for my group to be onsite, but for a few purposes and facets of our work, these components are outsourced. 

Currently 40% and of American workers are doing some work remotely, without having to be present at their place of business all of the time. This tendency creates demand for adequately training remote workers through video conferencing platforms, particularly for social media and programming positions. All that's required is a computer and Internet. 

Get Past the Clutter How you brand your business is vital. People are drowning in data and information, and you need to have the ability to cut to the chase immediately. Branding, which encompasses the name, emblem, etc., creates immediate identification. With excellent branding, you're perceived as an authority, successful and trustworthy as you look closely at the details. 

Additionally it makes prospecting easier. Customers find you. It is possible to hire better talent. Candidates seek you out instead of looking to apply for a position with an unknown company. Because of branding, it's simpler to create more businesses under exactly the identical name. 

Opportunity Exists in Purchasing Businesses There are more businesses available because of the retirement of the Baby Boomer and Millennials will be buying them and then reinventing the companies they purchase. Keep a look out to your competition because there's always a chance in looking to get an existing competitor. 

As an example, you can purchase their entire client base, or maybe they have excelled in e-commerce, and you are ready to bring that into your portfolio. I've successfully bought some of my opponents, and it has only helped my businesses grow.

Three Secret Six-Figure Businesses You Can Do From Home

When most folks think of home businesses, the first things that springs to mind are Network marketing, Internet marketing or Information marketing. But, things have changed. The area has broadened as well as the possibilities have started to add new and more innovative solutions. 

The next three businesses are little known solutions, yet highly profitable alternatives. Life Coaching Service: lots of individuals readily provide advice to friends, family members, and in some instances, even complete strangers. Nowadays, this simple model is a business service called"Life Coaching." Based on where you're , Life Coaching can be achieved with no particular licensing or degree. 

However, because you might be facing competition from individuals who may in reality have Doctorates or Masters in Psychology, it could be a great idea to at least obtain a certification. Although schools around the country have not officially classified"Life Coaching" as a leading, Harvard, Yale, Duke, NYU, UC Berkley, Penn State, and many others have started coaching programs. 

Jared Mellow, a Life Coach in Southern New Jersey says,"Life Coaching Provides a broad market. I specialize in adolescents and teens. But the sector is open to several niches. I see an exciting future within the industry." According to Forbes Magazine, Life Coaching is a two billion per year business, and is projected to rise to 10 billion by 2020. 

Services are routinely billed on an hourly bases, and run $50 - $100 per hour. Social Media Manager: As Social Media continues to grow in the business arena more business owners are trying to keep up with the ever-increasing technology and continuous platform growth. Twitter, Facebook, YouTube, LinkedIn, Instagram, all current workable marketing medias, however, most local brick and mortar businesses do not have enough time, energy or know how to make the most. 

This creates opportunities for people that are well versed with these programs. Business owners welcome Social Media Managers, as they understand the power, reach and cost effectiveness of marketing online. A growing number of businesses are looking to fulfill this demand in their own marketing.

The business is positioned for enormous growth as a result of sub-sectors available within social networking. Companies who do not currently have a strong social networking presence are seeking to produce one, and people who do actually have one are wanting to maintain, and even increase their standing. 

In accordance with US Department of Labor, public relation activities increases beyond 12 percent during the next 6 years as a result of rise in Social Media. Handling Social Media, interacting with clients, monitoring customer satisfaction, announcing new services and products, all fall in the Social Media Marketing activities. 

The industry standard for Social Media Manager's compensation is based on monthly charges. Average fees, based on specific social networking service packages range from $400 - $1000 per month per customer. Public Adjuster: Public Adjusters are advocates for home owners and business owners who incur damages and are in need of putting insurance claims to recoup expenses so as to return their houses or businesses to pre-damage condition. 

The demand for this service is enormous since figures reveal that of the average 11 million home insurance claims placed annually in the USA, less than 5 percent are represented by Public Adjusters. The value from the service is in correctly representing the policyholder, who carries the"Burden of Proof" from the claim's process. 

So as to recoup the entire extent provided within the coverage, home and business owners should prove their compensation. Must simply don't understand how to efficiently do so. Smart Money Magazine confirms this by saying that most insurance claims are settled using the first deal, and lots of times policyholders are walking off with as few as 25 - 40 cents on the dollar.

[academiablogs]

Shopping For a Brand? Why Not Write a Book Instead?

  I was once told by a writing instructor, “why should anyone read your work? That’s the question you have to ask yourself: what makes it new and irresistible?” Inevitably, as we showed her drafts of our stories she quickly tossed them aside with the remark, “not new, not interesting.” Without using the word “brand,” she was basically advocating that we find one. Every writer needs a hallmark that distinguishes them from every other writer in the world, or at least allies them with the one that matter. A writer or a story might not necessarily be new or innovative, but their brand, their image, should seem so. What a story is really selling, she told us, is the idea of novelty rather than any quality of novelty itself (and really, is anything new under the sun)?

I’ve thought about this a lot over the years, since no matter how much I wrote or how much I progressed as a writer, I couldn’t put my finger on a ‘brand’ or market niche that my story possessed. I heard many writers say, “I’m like Stephen King, but darker,” or “I’m like a Harlqeuin Romance, but without the romance.” Those little witticisms always made people smile and many of them responded, “oh, I’d love to read that!” Nevertheless, it felt a little cheap to boil down an entire book or style of writing to a catch phrase; all the more so, as no one is going to read your book and say, “wow, you really are just like Stephen King, just darker!” Not likely.

So what does it mean to have a brand as a writer? How do you distinguish yourself from the millions of other writers trying to make their mark on the market? On social media in particular, everything is boiled down to tweet size. You can’t explain your book or your influences or philosophy; you need an instantly recognizable icon to catch the interest of readers or agents so they’ll take a chance on you. It’s like going to the grocery store: which granola bar do you buy? They all probably taste more or less alike. What determines which one you drop in your cart? In all likelihood, it’s the box—or whatever’s on it. The logo. The cartoons or images of nature. The mascot. The healthy buzzwords that promise rejuvenation and longer life.

But therein lies the dilemma, since the business of advertising is the artful lie. I know, I once worked for an ad agency and had clients tell me to outright lie about this or that, or to otherwise dupe their customers. Products make extravagant promises since they know you’re buying the promises, not the product. And promises can change the way you see (and taste) the product, too. I notice that a lot of authors basically sell their works like food as well: they make extravagant claims, tout themselves as “award winning authors” and quote effusive praise from people you’ve never heard of. Sometimes, it even works. The more “professional” the author, particularly for indie authors, the more they seem to imitate the lies of the best-selling authors.

Look at a typical page for a prominent book on Amazon—what do you see? The cover, of course, wrapped up like a Godiva chocolate; a series of stars—usually close to 5—with the number of reviews attached, and a “best seller” banner—again, just like something on the shelves of Wal Mart. Scroll down a bit, and you find multiple levels of advertising copy—first from Amazon, then from the publisher, and then a number of author/reader reviews which also sound like an ad agency wrote them (drowning in superlatives). We also get a slew of products “often bought together” which looks like the candy aisle even more—one sweet after the next, all of them indistinguishable. Even worse, we then get information that no one outside of the website actually needs: the seller’s rank in various categories. All this tells us is “why aren’t you buying it if everyone else is?”

If this sounds depressing, it should. Selling books has become just as corporate and just as cloying as buying food to stock your shelves. There’s just one problem: we don’t buy books to stock our shelves. We buy them to be transported—to think, to imagine, to believe, to frighten, to amaze, to transform. No cookie is going to do that for me, whatever the ad copy tells me (and nor do I expect it to). A book, however, stands a good chance of doing that, and that’s what I hope for when I buy one. A book doesn’t need to make extravagant promises or dabble in deceit; a book is good enough if it just tells a story. That’s why we buy them. It’s almost like publishers have forgotten what books are and why anyone buys them. I imagine they have meetings where someone exclaims, “how can we sell these odd, little square things? What makes them interesting? How about a cover that makes it look like an exotic tea company? Then at least they’ll be reminded of their favorite beverage...”

Are books a product or a unique work of art? Do they need help to seem worthwhile? Can’t a real lover of books tell the difference? Why do we have to resort to commercial chicanery when the only thing that sells a book is the story and the style itself? I would argue that what really makes a writer’s brand is how they write. As simple as that. When I think of Jane Austen, for example, I think of her characters and her style (and her characters could only exist within her style—her unique way of telling a story). No matter what beautiful cover you slap on Pride and Prejudice or whatever clever copywriting you add to the webpage, the work is always the same—and it’s always her. Let’s be honest, no one really reads Jane Austen because of a darling cover. It might catch your eye, but you soon forget it and when someone asks you to recount the story, you don’t say, “well, there’s this amazing cover, and the blurb was so exciting...”

Ultimately, I think many of us are writing backwards. That is, we’re trying to write to a market and establish a brand based on what sells rather than writing who we are and offering it humbly (but proudly) to the world. Too many writers and agents and readers tell me, “that doesn’t sell, you can’t do that anymore, no one will read that, that’s not where the market’s headed.” Thinking like that will create a brand but not a work of art—not a book that needs to be read. For example, how many new energy drinks do we need? We know that they all have the same ingredients—caffeine and sugar. Dress is up however you like, it’s the same damn drink. So why not sell something else? Something that you want to drink? We don’t all have to drink energy drinks, do we? Of course the publishers want us to, since it sells, but as writers and readers we have a stake in what sells, too. And I can guarantee you the next big thing won’t be an energy drink.

Obviously I write this from a position of weakness and can be accused of sour grapes. I’m an indie writer. I don’t sell many books. I only have a few dozen reviews and no one has heard of me or my novels. And yet, I’ve written my ‘brand,’ I’ve created a series of books that satisfy the reader within me. These are the books I enjoy reading and wanted to share with the world. They’re consistent and ‘new’ in the sense that it’s not another energy drink, not another superfluous product on the shelves. In that case, okay, maybe no one is desperate to buy it and display it in their fridge. Eventually, though, someone will, and when they drink it, they’ll realize that I make no extravagant claims for increased health or virility.

I market it exactly for what it is: a fantasy novel that takes you to another world, that deals in mystery, intrigue, humor, and romance. It doesn’t look or taste like your favorite tea, it hasn’t been consumed by any famous authors, and it hasn’t won any Taster’s Choice awards. I can only promise you it’s part of a grand tradition of fantasy novels written by someone who loves them, and to find out anything more, you’ll actually have to crack open a book. Because books should be mysterious...they shouldn’t reveal all their secrets on the back jacket. That’s where you, the reader, come in, and that’s what makes reading so exciting and unique. It’s not like shopping for groceries or like anything that happens in the workaday world. Let’s keep it that way.