#Standard Ops

[mentorshelly]

Unleashing Efficiency: The 4 Indispensable Benefits of SOPs in Business

Navigating the complexities of business can be daunting, but with well-crafted Standard Operating Procedures (SOPs), your enterprise can move with precision and confidence. Let’s delve into four transformative benefits of SOPs: 1. Unmatched Consistency: SOPs are the secret ingredient to uniform excellence. They ensure every product and service meets your high standards, reflecting the reliability…

[bowenoke]

in scott's pov (ep7) he refers to scar as grian's husband. no one tells him this is not the case. this is because traffic!scott decides who is and is not married like some sort of contractually binding arbiter of love. to me anyways

[r0semultiverse]

[ariadne-mouse]

"And you are sure these are edible?" "Ja. Well, sort of." "What does 'sort of' mean, Caleb Widogast?"

Here is Shadowgast in the style of Scavengers Reign!

Yes, this is a transparent and blatant attempt to pspspsps my fellow fans of Critical Role into watching this series. The first season is airing now on Netflix as of May 31st. They picked it up after Max did not renew it for a second season, and will decide based on the reception now whether to continue - so I am hoping that lots of people discover the show and love it! The animation studio is Titmouse, who also produces The Legend of Vox Machina.

It's like a Miyazaki-esque Annihilation. Cosmic horror and cosmic wonder in equal and necessary parts. If you like the funky biology parts of Candela Obscura, give this a shot. There is horror. There is humanity. There is hope and connection. There are creatures of all shapes and sizes, including a wonderful amount of tiny idiots, which I have made many compilation posts about. It's a setting where you can envision David Attenborough peacefully narrating a nature documentary about it, but be horrified the same time. Just an absolutely incredible show.

[relaxxattack]

every time someone calls moirallegience just an alien qpr i wilt a lil like YEAH thats more or less the CLOSEST human thing but its also Literally Not That. like a qpr is fundanmentally not romantic and thats not even going into moirails whole Actual Purpose of calming ppl down. its just. aughhhhh pisses me off i see the confusion but, as aformentioned, aughhhhh

OH MY GOD THIS HAS BEEN BOTHERING ME TOO.... but i don't want to get petty at the people in my notes always saying "moirails are QPRs!" because in some ways that is the closest human thing so it's hard to be mad...

i think there's definitely some overlap in some ways. but NOT because moirallegiance and qprs are the same at all really, but INSTEAD because both relationships have unconventional boundaries defined by the people within them.

you know... like every relationship.

like the only reason the two have overlap is because they are both partnerships that emotionally care for each other but can choose to not bang (which is true for any romance anyway, even if it's considered abnormal). they're both just romances* that are unconventional to human norms, which makes people view them as the same thing when they're not.

i think the REAL issue here is that humans insist on using human words to understand things that are just, fundamentally, alien. can't we just appreciate alien romance for being... alien romance?

no, it's not platonic, it's romantic. it's just romantic in a way you aren't quite wired to understand, is all.

*in generalization, most QPRs are not romantic, because they are made up of aroaces who are life partners in a non-romantic way. however i want to disagree with you that none of them are romantic, because that is up to the partners in question.

[atorionsbelt]

big bad roy kent allowing himself to be used as a stressball squeeze toy >>>

[maplleaf]

Two tries, One success

[Gepard Landau x gn!reader]

Working as the manager of Mechanical Fever's famous bassist isn't as bad of a job as many would think. Serval originally wanted an assistant to sort out her workshop's data, but after seeing how you matched energies with her, she offered the position as Mechanical Fever's assistant not long after being hired.

It's good; your pay doubled and your boss is great as a friend and as an employer. It's been a year since working for Serval and you've never looked back in regret. You even got the chance to befriend her younger brother, Gepard.

Although recently, the two siblings have been acting strange.

At first Serval asked about your type, you answered the question by saying blonde, since at the time you find a blonde hair color attractive.

Then only a day later, Serval had to 'take leave' in the middle of the day; saying that Pela asked to meet her regarding some scheduling with rehearsals. Despite you not remembering Pela mentioning anything of the sort when seeing her yesterday...

Since she is your boss, you brushed it off. The workshop doesn't have days where an influx of clients would come in anyway. Additionally, current clients' orders are all finished and it's just a waiting game for any of them to pick their items up.

No Serval, no work, not even cleaning. The only thing moderately interesting is the plant you brought here as decoration for Serval.

In conclusion; you were bored as hell that day.

Which is why when the door opened, your body straightened up as a reflex; thinking it's one of the clients. Surprisingly, you were met with the sight of Serval's younger brother. A rush of excitement and joy hit you, almost subconsciously.

"Gepard? Serval didn't mention you coming here," you pointed out. As captain of the silvermane guards, he's usually busy with work. "Did you left something last week?"

The blonde didn't answer right away, in fact his eyes are looking at everything but you. "No, uhm, Is my sister not here?" Gepard asked, finally turning towards you.

"Nah, she said Pela wanted to talk to her urgently earlier," you answered. "I can tell her you're here though," you raised your phone as a way to tell Gepard how you could tell Serval about his visit.

"That... isn't necessary," he almost stammered, even to the point where you noticed. "Did my sister bring that in?" Gepard pointed to the plant beside you.

"I did actually. This old fella' looks like it fits in this place," your hand grabbed the small plant's pot, shaking it lightly as if it's talking. Using a voice for the plant, you began to talk for it like a puppet. "That's right, it was so cold out there."

Gepard chuckled at your antics, "you must take good care of it." He heard you hum in response, "if your sister did, she might sing it rock music for bedtime."

After you placed the pot back down, Gepard took a deep breath before spilling his true intention. "Are you perhaps busy this Saturday?" The Landau sibling had a light red dusting on his cheek, something blocked by the darker lighting of Nevermore workshop.

You raised an eyebrow at him in interest. Saturday... Mechanical Fever shouldn't be having any performances that day and the workshop is closed; leaving you with an open spot. "I'm not, why'd you ask?"

"I was wondering if we could..." Gepard's word trailed away, his blue eyes looking at yours with a strange gaze. It's beautiful, his eyes, like the carved geomarrow at the Everwinter Monument, but somehow more beautiful. It's mezmerizing, truly.

"...could teach me about plant management. I've been trying to take care of mine as a hobby, but they don't usually end well," Gepard finishes his sentence.

The room stayed quiet for a moment, though in Gepard's mind it's louder than all the concerts he's seen his sister performs. The silence ended when you chuckled, then laughed.

"Sorry sorry," you managed to muffled out. "It's just, Serval's been mentioning your 'hobby' for awhile and I didn't expect you to come to me for help," you leaned back against the chair with your arms crossed, "How about at noon here? I can ask Serval about opening the workshop for the day, sure she wouldn't mind if it's for you."

Gepard straightened his posture as a reflex, though his face does hold a certain embarassment that you didn't pick up. "Sure, I'll be glad," he smiled. "I think I'll have to go now, my break isn't long."

The blonde leaves the workshop in a hurry, not even hearing your words of parting. You found it strange how he behaved that day, and many days after to be exact.

The second time one of the Landau siblings acted weird was when Mechanical Fever's performance had just ended. Many people were asking for a photo or even signatures of the bandmates, especially Serval.

Since it all had technically wrapped up, you sat by the bench nearby to recharge from watching a fun yet exhausting performance. The air of overworld's Belobog is much colder in the evening, even with geomarrow heaters everywhere.

Your hand rubbed against eachother for heat and friction. It'll only be a short while until the band properly wraps up and have a little celebration in Serval's workshop. Though that short while felt like eternity when all you could feel is the eternal winter's air saying 'fuck you warmth!'

"You okay there?"

You looked up to see the familiar charming captain, his face full of worry. The thought of Gepard worrying made you conflicted to wether feel happy or guilty. "Yeah, just chilly," you responded, bringing your heated hands to your face for more warmth.

"You didn't bring a jacket?" Gepard asked, sitting right beside you. "It's usually not this cold at the evening, but winter has its ways."

"Well fuck whoever made this winter," whilst rubbing your hands again, you slipped out a few words of annoyance at the current state of temperature. Realizing the rudeness, you couldn't help but feel guilty, "sorry."

"It's fine but," Gepard looks at your sorry state and thought about it for a moment, leaving you to wonder what's in his pretty little head. Your thoughts stopped when he took off the white and blue scarf of his uniform and slid it around yours.

"Here."

You wanted asked what was he doing before feeling the heat. It's so... warm. Is this what he feels everytime going in the fragmentums filled with cold air? No wonder he could stand in a fight for so long, this thing is comfortable.

"You are an actual lifesaver, Landou," your almost trembling voice muttered, quickly relishing in the warmth that his scarf had given you. Gepard on the other hand felt his eyes being stuck on your figure; the snow of Belobog definitely made you look more ethereal than usual.

Gepard took a few moments before the spur of the moment outweighs his worries. "A new place opened up near Goethia hotel, I was wondering--"

"(y/n)! Hurry up, we're heading to Serval's," the pianist of Mechanical Fever yelled out, uncaring of the other people surprised at his sudden voice.

As the assistant of the band, you were already used to this by now. The blonde beside you is not used to it; and if that pianist is a fragmentum monster, he would've thrown a punch right then and there.

"Sorry, could you say that again?" you tried to ignore the pianist's wails, focusing on Gepard more considering he's not yelling at you.

"Right," Gepard coughed to ease himself back in the moment, "this wednesday, I was wondering if--"

"(y/n)!"

You winced in annoyance as that pianist's voice filled the streets of the district. Seriously, you hope Serval can knock some sense into the guy about the great knowledge that is patience. Seeing as he would probably keep yelling your name until you yield, your priorities had to change.

"Sorry, Gepard, could you continue that another time? I'm afraid a certain someone wouldn't shut their mouth if I don't come," you scoffed, side-eyeing the person in annoyance. Gepard looks at you with disappointment, a face you've never seen before.

"It's fine," the blonde answered, though when he sees you start taking off his scarf, his gloved hand prevented you from properly taking it off. "Just take it, you'll get cold on the way."

You raised an eyebrow at him unsurely, "... won't you get in trouble for giving this to a civilian?"

Gepard shook his head, instead gently tightening the scarf. "I have another at home," he brushed it off before backing away from you. "I'll... see you on another day."

The next day, you overheard a few guards talking about their Captain Landau; and how he seems to be missing a part of his uniform.

The third time is when Serval asked a specific question when you two were working. A client had given her an antique click to fix earlier on, the device taking over Serval's focus for the past two hours. You on the other hand had to sort out this month's profits and data regarding clients and business related items you two bought for the month.

"Say, what do you think of silvermane guards?" the blonde bassist asked you before extending her hand up to you expecting a tool. You naturally took the screwdriver and gave it to her, eyes still focused on the laptop.

"They're... fine," you answered. "What's with the random question?" Serval shrugged her arm, taking off her glasses as she leaned back and rested her eyes. Another fixing job for a complex antique done, it's amazing how someone could keep an object for a long time without realizing the broken gears it has.

"Everytime we go out to buy parts, you always glanced at the silvermane groups when they passed," the flinch coming from you became an answer to her assumption. Serval leaned on the table in front of her, blue eyes scanning you for any hints, "Interested in one of 'em?"

Seeing as lying would get you nowhere with the engineer, you took shaky breath, "just one."

Serval's eyes lit up like stars, "No way! Care to spill?" you averted your eyes from your boss' enthusiasm, finger tapping on the wood as a way to calm yourself. Even if she is your friend, it doesn't ease the nervousness.

"Well..." your voice trailed out.

"And what was the answer?"

Serval sighed, "said I knew the person." Her younger brother slumped down, tapping his feet for every half a second. "C'mon, we narrowed it down to a blonde and a silvermane guard I know! That's a pretty good chance," Serval tried to cheer him up, which sadly didn't do much.

"That doesn't narrow it down to one person," Gepard pointed out. At first, he noticed you sneaking glances when he was ordering guards near Belobog's alleyways. It gave him a hope that maybe this isn't unrequited; a hope that's lost the longer he thought about it.

"Maybe I should cancel it, I can't ruin our friendship because of this."

Serval smacked her brother's head lightly in a scolding manner. "Hey, I thought us Landau are hardworking and determined. You can't just give up now," she reminded him.

Even if Gepard's hesitance did stop for a moment, it didn't stop him from feeling nervous. Serval waited for her brother to speak up, her arm crossed on her chest. Gepard recalled how long he had been trying a confession, four weeks. Four grueling weeks and three tries of trying to ask you out in any way he could think of only to fail each time.

The first time he got too nervous when looking at your eyes gazing at him. The fear of rejection and making that look turn into something bad made him scared.

The second time one of Mechanical Fever's band members interrupted him. Maybe it's The Aeon of Preservation's way of telling him fate doesn't allow this to happen.

It's complicated; so many variables that caused him to worry over what ifs. For starters, his sister is your boss, then he might not even be your type personality wise. Gepard is usually a confident person, but something about you just makes him nervous all the sudden.

"What am I supposed to do?" Gepard asked, wanting some kind of advice from his carefree older sister. Serval sighed, leaning against her table to wrack an idea from her head.

"Tomorrow morning, I asked (y/n) to take care of the workshop since I have plans with some friends," she told him, "Try shooting your shot then, and don't chicken out this time."

Gepard thought about Serval's idea, ultimately considering it a good enough plan. "Sounds great. Thank you, sister," Gepard stood up properly after giving his appreciation to Serval.

A part of him feels guilty for falling with his sister's assistant. He didn't even realize he's falling for someone until he's already too late.

The blonde sighed, he can only pray to Qlipoth that you won't hate him for this.

After Gepard said his goodbyes to Serval, the cold air of Belobog hits him. Thankfully, his uniform made it so he's not feeling cold, but usually geomarrow heaters around the city would lessen the drop in temperature. He should've told his sister to fix the broken heater outside.

Unbeknownst to him, you were just done buying flowers from the shop near Nevermore workshop. Your hand clenched onto the bouquet of flowers hard as you noticed a familiar blonde in front of Serval's workshop.

The dark lighting that roams Belobog's night made it so he probably didn't realize it's you there. Even so, he did hear footsteps approaching him. "Gepard! Didn't expect to run into you," you greeted him.

"Oh, (y/n), hi. I was just visiting my sister," Gepard answered, your voice instantly making him nervous. He noticed the item you're carrying; a bouquet of sunshine flowers. From his hours of studying how to do gardening as a hobby, he also learned some of the meaning of flowers.

Sunshine is a flower that means "warmth and love of light" for the people of Belobog. He doesn't know if you knew what those flowers mean, but something inside his mind is causing him to feel scared.

Though, remembering you were still here, Gepard quickly swallowed that feeling in favor of being your friend. "Are you heading home?" Gepard asked, receiving a nod from you.

"Yeah, gotta take care of the workshop tomorrow," your hand held the bouquet slightly tighter. "Actually, do you mind walking me to my house?" your voice had a hint of hesitance to it. "I... still have your scarf from last time."

Gepard smiled at your worries. Yes, he did get questioned by his superiors about it before being given another scarf, but honestly, he didn't mind it since it results in your comfort. "You don't have to worry about that, I have another one."

"No!"

The sudden change of tone caught Gepard off guard, as you usually never raised a voice unless it's needed. Looking at your regretful expression and the hand nearing your mouth made Gepard think it wasn't fully intentional on your side either.

"Sorry, it's just," your words came into a stutter. "I want to take a walk with you tonight, is that possible?"

Gepard didn't know what to say in an instant, almost stuttering himself. Though, he does answer fast in fear you might think he feels reluctant to. "Of course," he answered, "Shall we go, then?"

"Yeah," you swallowed a lump in your throat and walked closer to the captain.

The walk is a relaxing one. Due to Jarilo-IV's eternal winter, weather at night have always been colder than at day; even with the heaters. Droplets of snow covered the both of you as the walk continued. Gepard is the first to break the silence, bringing up the flowers he noticed.

"Those are sunshine flowers, right?" he asked. "Yeah, I bought it for a friend," your voice almost seemed to hesitate on the last word. "It means love and warmth from what I remember."

Hearing you say that gives the knowledge to Gepard that you know the meaning of it, and if you're giving it to a friend then it means you feel some sort of love or warmth for the friend. That left a bitter taste in his mouth when he thinks about it.

"Warmth and love of light," Gepard added, when he sees your eyes looking at him in curiosity he felt the need to explain. "I've read some additional details when learning how to do gardening."

If it weren't for the barely lit street lamps, he would've been caught with a red face. "Love, huh..." your muttering were loud enough for Gepard to hear. "Have you ever been confessed to?"

Your question made Gepard wonder what to answer. If he were to say yes, does that lower the chances of you accepting his confession. But if he were to say no, would you really believe him?

"A few times, though I never really accepted them," Gepard side-eyed you, trying to pinpoint any kind of reaction. He could see your hand holding onto the bouquet tight, even so he doesn't know if it's due to nervousness or just from the cold.

"I see," your voice trailed out. The walk continued on quietly, but it's not awkward per se.

For Gepard, his mind is clouded with doubt for tomorrow's plan. If he were to be planning a confession, he would ask for some kind of advice from someone he knows well. For him it was Serval, but maybe for you it's him.

Before either of you could realize it, you two are already in front of your home. "Looks like we're here," Gepard said unsurely. He isn't exactly sure if you would give back his scarf or not, considering he rejected the offer earlier.

"Right," you took a deep breath before turning to face the blonde, your movements as stiff as a robot. Your hand held onto the bouquet with shaking fingers, eyes unsure where to look but eventually locking to Gepard's blue ones.

After a moment of silence and you biting your lips to form words, any words, you finally spoke.

"You are a wonderful person to be around, I always enjoy talking to you even if it's just for a few minutes," your voice is low, scared even. The fear of losing someone causing hesitation between each words spoken.

"And you might feel otherwise, but fuck, I want to be selfish just this once." You took in another breath of air to prepare yourself. Your arms extended towards Gepard, offering him the bouquet of flowers. "I like you, like really like you."

Your voice trembled, but not because of the coldness in the air but the warmth that slowly crept up to your head. Heartbeat going louder than any of Serval's performances.

Gepard's own state isn't far different than yours. His mind slowly processed your words as his cheeks is engulfed in a light pink hue. For almost a month he was worried every time he thought about it; head slamming against the wall thinking on what to say and what to do for a confession.

"It seems you did what I was planning to do."

His hand took the flowers, happiness written all over his face expressed by a soft and endearing smile. "I feel the same way, for awhile now to be exact," Gepard took a deep breath before letting out small chuckles of his own.

"Sorry, its just nice to see that I'm not alone," his admittance made you laugh yourself. It's good that your house doesn't have many street lamps in front of it, or else the two of you might've been exposed for the redness in both of your faces.

It's strange. Just a moment ago the cold air of Belobog had started to settle in, but now all you could feel is the wamrth coming from your own face. Though, after properly processing Gepard's reponse you realized the opportunity laid properly at this moment.

"I have a ticket-- sorry, two tickets, to the Golden Theater next week at 12. If you're free, we could go together," your voice came back happily, glee and excitement coming from the tone.

"Like a date?"

Your eyes lit up as Gepard continued it for you, hearing it as a confirmation that he might be okay with the idea. "Yeah, like a date."

"Of course, I would love to," Gepard answers, his beautiful smile still brightly seen even with the dark lighting. Your face mirrored his, still nervous as hell, but happily nervous.

Realizing the time, you felt bad for making Gepard stand in front of your home for so long. "Great! I'll see you another day then," you argued with yourself for a few moments before going with the nervous adrenaline telling you what impulses to do.

Matching yourself to Gepard's height, you dropped a small kiss on his cheek; causing the blonde to be caught off guard as his face heats up more.

"Can't wait for next week," you muttered loud enough for him to hear before bolting to your door to avoid any chances that he'll see your state; an obvious nervous wreck. As you entered your own home, mumbles of questions leaves your mind, all relating to your actions not even a minute ago.

Meanwhile, Gepard is left still in front of your home dumbfounded and processing what had just happened. His eyes darted to the bouquet again; yellow petals looking back at him, giving him hope for what comes in the future.

[boccher]

I hate automatic interpolation in image viewers

I hate overengineered interpolators intended for one specific purpose but are applied to every image

I hate smudgy mess AI interpolators

You are ruining my experience of pixel art

Your sharpening is shit

Represent the image resolution properly

Or don't represent it at all

[hellshandbasket]

no one has ever been as pretty, desirable, compelling, in need of railing, in danger of having their hair petted, sexy, and/or irresistible as dennis reynolds sitting on the floor of a dirty bar while high on gasoline in the revolutionary episode of tv “flowers for charlie”

[lord-squiggletits]

The reason this fandom hates IDW Optimus isn't because he's a cop (plenty of people are fine with Prowl) or because he's a bastard (most characters in IDW are) but because he commits the crime of being an actual person who's messy, flawed, and makes a shitload of high stakes mistakes fitting for the intense situations and pressure he's put under constantly.

But we can't have Optimus actually react to his situations by lashing out or being unpleasant, no, he has to have the personality of a cardboard cutout of G1 whose only defining personality traits are "dad, funny, nice," and if he ever vents negative emotions it can only ever be #relatable depression or him being sad on his own without ever letting it show during the important parts of the story. If Optimus dares do things like be angry or frustrated or bitter it's just a sign that he's a bastard and LITERALLY the worst Optimus ever. If Optimus ever makes mistakes or does wrong things in the heat of anger/frustration/stress it's because he's just an evil bastard with no redeeming traits.

God forbid Optimus go through an unending gauntlet of war, politics, atrocities, near-complete loneliness, and a seemingly endless cycle of violence for his entire life and come out of it kind of bitter, angry, and tired of dealing with people's shit. He's not allowed to be a realistic person, context doesn't matter, sympathy doesnt matter. IDW Optimus doesn't fulfill the fandom's fantasies of Father Figure or Perfect Cultural Icon or Twinky Fucktoy and since that's the only reason most people care about Optimus in general, the fandom collectively trashes on IDW OP.

All because he can't fit into the overly simplified and childlike double standard the fandom has where if any other character is messy and flawed, that's good writing and interesting and compelling, but if OPTIMUS is messy and flawed, he's Literally The Worst and he's an asshole for no other reason than He Sucks, context be damned

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

mods asleep post Rogers II

[moongothic]

There is something funny to be said about how both Dragon and Crocodile are like 2½ meters tall, they are massive fucking men. But Luffy's 174 cm, that's the height of a regular ass person. Which makes him 80 cm shorter than his dads, nearly a whole meter in height difference

Which makes me wonder

Was Luffy a regular-sized baby by our standards but absolutely itty bitty tiny when compared to his dads (like he would've fit onto Dragon's palm), or was Luffy a massive ass fucking baby who came into the world huge but didn't actually get the Huge Motherfucker-genes from his parents and just stayed short

[sexhaver]

these arguments against depression never do anything to me because like. yeah? easily? i would absolutely yell at my cloned self for being a piece of shit. one of my recurring fantasies is doing exactly what OP describes so i can beat my clone/self to death with a hammer

[sapphixxx]

I've become such an extremely specific type of pervert after doing so much woodworking that I'm catching myself zooming in to see what type of hinges are on the cabinets in this Yuri manga

[dykealloy]

hi for the love of god hello