#food safety service companies

[jackgarlond]

hmmm I do not see how I'm going to be able to make it to 26

[indianahal]

This new video explores why grocery store food recalls are at record levels in the US.  Everything from coffee, ice crème, to produce.  The USDA says there has been a 125% increase in recalls when compared to 2004-2013.  I'll also discuss some of the reasons for all the recalls. 

[anilaarunnnn]

[blockchainblast]

Farm-to-Table Revolution with Blockchain

Who won’t love food? A few might eat to live, and the rest will live to eat. 

So, it’s no surprise that the restaurant industry thrives all year round, regardless of the season or weather. 

The pandemic brought numerous challenges for people, which in turn prompted the restaurant industry to embrace new methods of operation. From contactless menus to cashless payments, restaurants are exploring innovative solutions to keep customers safe while still delivering high-quality food.

A promising technology that helps restaurants attain the above operations is Blockchain Technology. 

Are you looking for an expert team to integrate blockchain technology into your restaurant business? Obtain top-notch blockchain development services and relish the success of your business.

Now, let’s check the in-depth analysis of how blockchain ramps up the restaurant industry.

Enhancing Transparency and Trust

Blockchain enhances transparency and builds trust between restaurants and their customers. Transparent Dining leverages blockchain to track the provenance of its plant-based proteins and share this information with customers. So, by scanning a QR code on their food, customers can learn about the source of the ingredients. This level of transparency enhances trust and commitment to quality.

Improving Employee Training And Tracking

Blockchain helps track the skills and training of its employees. This innovative technology enables the restaurant to validate the skill attainment of external hires applying for senior-level roles. Additionally, blockchain provides a secure and private way to validate the health status of employees. By ensuring that employees are adequately trained and protected, the restaurant can improve the overall customer experience.

Streamlining Financial Management

Blockchain delivers a systemic process to identify lease expirations for non-owned properties, manage existing location expiration, and provide a shared ledger for all related paperwork. Further, blockchain minimizes the number of disputes and the amount of time spent researching them and allows team members to focus more on analytics and supporting operations.

Would you like to develop blockchain technology and run your restaurant tension-free? Seek the finest enterprise blockchain development services from our experts, who make your path clean and easy.

Enhancing Regulatory Compliance And Food Donations

Finally, blockchain enhances regulatory compliance and food donations at Transparent Dining. This ingenious technology ensures that the regulatory body is on a blockchain network. Also, it enables the right information to be provided to the right people. Besides, blockchain is being used to onboard partners quickly and provide transparency to the movement of food. This technology also ensures that the restaurant can donate food to local food banks in an auditable way.

Time To Keep The Cutlery Parallel

Blockchain technology is recasting the restaurant industry by enhancing transparency, improving customer experiences, and optimizing operations. From validating employee skills to tracking the provenance of ingredients, blockchain is helping restaurants to build trust with customers, increase efficiency, and reduce waste. While the future remains uncertain, blockchain technology is providing restaurants with the tools they need to adapt to new challenges and thrive in the post-pandemic world.

Do you want to make your customers trust you and take your restaurant to the next level? Then, reach out to the best blockchain consulting company that assists you with customizable services at affordable prices.

[katrinkunze]

From Farm To Table: Know How Blockchain Technology Ramps Up Restaurants

Who won’t love food? A few might eat to live, and the rest will live to eat.  So, it’s no surprise that the restaurant industry thrives all year round, regardless of the season or weather.  The pandemic brought numerous challenges for people, which in turn prompted the restaurant industry to embrace new methods of operation. From contactless menus to cashless payments, restaurants are exploring…

[azbusiness]

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[airearthandsunfire]

Remember the area 51 raid? How the whole internet jumped on the thought train labeled "they can't stop all of us"? Remember how seriously the us govt took that threat?

Can we direct that same energy to "let's all be in a union in our respective industries? Thr first one, the hardest one, is gonna be the customer service union. We've got a decent start, with Starbucks, of all places! (Bravo mothafuckers! I'm proud of yall!) But we gotta keep going.

Walmart literally has an anti-union video that they show tourist time employees, who are required to watch it as part of onboarding! They can't stop the unions if the unions exist as a collective instead of as a group specific to Walmart.

They can't afford to fire all of us.

Scared of creating a union? Create an organization, an LLC, a non-profit workers club. If they can do it, so can we, and we must if we want to protect ourselves and each other.

[headspace-hotel]

Going through the bills proposed in the kentucky 2024 legislative session and some of the things being proposed are

make a PFAS Working Group

require homeless shelters to provide free menstrual products (it's actually disturbing that they didn't already)

require schools to provide free menstrual products

create harm reduction centers and lower penalties for possessing controlled substances

require insurance to pay for cancer screenings (okay. low bar but okay)

abolish the death penalty (actually has a couple republican sponsors)

decriminalize cannabis

make fluoridation of water in districts optional (?????)

make coal the "state rock" of Kentucky

Prohibit children from being interrogated in a "deceptive manner" (?)

Make weight discrimination illegal

pay schools to food grown at kentucky farms to provide for school meals at low income schools (hey that's rad)

Lower the age of carrying a concealed deadly weapon from 21 to 18 (?????????????)

Require companies to give their employees earned paid sick leave

Impose restrictions on the collection of biometric data by private entities

Allow poultry to be sold at farmers' markets and at farms

pay for cancer screenings for firefighters

let pregnant incarcerated people have midwives or doula services

require that public high school curriculum include instruction on the history of racism

Remove Robert E. Lee Day, Confederate Memorial Day, and Jefferson Davis Day from the list of public holidays (WE HAVE THOSE?!!?!?!)

Retroactively expunge some cannabis convictions

"Prohibit public school districts from expanding any resources or funds on diversity, equity, inclusion, and belonging or political or social activism; prohibit public school districts from engaging in diversity, equity, inclusion, and belonging" (HUH?????)

require schools to give kids a lunch period of at least 30 minutes (the bar is in hell)

provide scholarships for teachers to help the teacher shortage and give teachers compensation for planning time

require schools to have defibrillators

make it so a homeless person doesn't have to pay to get a copy of their birth certificate

require a working smoke detector to be present in any house sold (...did we not already have this?)

create the Kentucky Urban Farming Youth Initiative

Require local governments to lower minimum square footage requirements for housing, and facilitate multifamily housing, manufactured housing, and "tiny homes," and require that zoning laws have a "substantial connection to protection of public safety, health, and usage of property" (This could be a good thing??)

require hiring and licensing authorities to allow people convicted of a crime an opportunity to get a job

Propose a new section of the Kentucky Constitution that guarantees the right of an individual to buy, sell, or use a certain amount of cannabis and to grow a small amount of cannabis plants, and put this on the ballot (LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOO LET THE PEOPLE DECIDE please this would be so funny)

Now let's watch how many of the good and basic common sense laws get left to die by Republicans because Republicans are ghouls

this is why it's important to vote in local elections, this is the kind of stuff that's being decided upon

[mostlysignssomeportents]

FCC strikes a blow against prison profiteering

TOMORROW NIGHT (July 20), I'm appearing in CHICAGO at Exile in Bookville.

Here's a tip for policymakers hoping to improve the lives of the most Americans with the least effort: help prisoners.

After all, America is the most prolific imprisoner of its own people of any country in world history. We lock up more people than Stalin, than Mao, more than Botha, de Klerk or any other Apartheid-era South African president. And it's not just America's vast army of the incarcerated who are afflicted by our passion for imprisonment: their families and friends suffer, too.

That familial suffering isn't merely the constant pain of life without a loved one, either. America's prison profiteers treat prisoners' families as ATMs who can be made to pay and pay and pay.

This may seem like a losing strategy. After all, prison sentences are strongly correlated with poverty, and even if your family wasn't desperate before the state kidnapped one of its number and locked them behind bars, that loved one's legal defense and the loss of their income is a reliable predictor of downward social mobility.

Decent people don't view poor people as a source of riches. But for a certain kind of depraved sadist, the poor are an irresistible target. Sure, poor people don't have much money, but what they lack even more is protection under the law ("conservativism consists of the principle that there is an in-group whom the law protects but does not bind, and an out-group whom the law binds but does not protect" -Wilhoit). You can enjoy total impunity as you torment poor people, make them so miserable and afraid for their lives and safety that they will find some money, somewhere, and give it to you.

Mexican cartels understand this. They do a brisk trade in kidnapping asylum seekers whom the US has illegally forced to wait in Mexico to have their claims processed. The families of refugees – either in their home countries or in the USA – are typically badly off but they understand that Mexico will not lift a finger to protect a kidnapped refugee, and so when the kidnappers threaten the most grisly tortures as a means of extracting ransom, those desperate family members do whatever it takes to scrape up the blood-money.

What's more, the families of asylum seekers are not much better off than their kidnapped loved ones when it comes to seeking official protection. Family members who stayed behind in human rights hellholes like Bukele's El Salvador can't get their government to lodge official complaints with the Mexican ambassador, and family members who made it to the USA are in no position to get their Congressjerk to intercede with ICE or the Mexican consulate. This gives Mexico's crime syndicates total latitude to kidnap, torture, and grow rich by targeting the poorest, most desperate people in the world.

The private contractors that supply services to America's prisons are basically Mexican refugee-kidnappers with pretensions and shares listed on the NYSE. After decades of consolidation, the prison contracting sector has shrunk to two gigantic companies: Securus and Viapath (formerly Global Tellink). These private-equity backed behemoths dominate their sector, and have diversified, providing all kinds of services, from prison cafeteria meals to commissary, the prison stores where prisoners can buy food and other items.

If you're following closely, this is one of those places where the hair on the back of your neck starts to rise. These companies make money when prisoners buy food from the commissary, and they're also in charge of the quality of the food in the mess hall. If the food in the mess hall is adequate and nutritious, there's no reason to buy food from the commissary.

This is what economists call a "moral hazard." You can think of it as the reason that prison ramen costs 300% more than ramen in the free world:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/20/captive-market/#locked-in

(Not just ramen: in America's sweltering prisons, an 8" fan costs $40, and the price of water went up in Texas prisons by 50% during last summer's heatwave.)

It's actually worse than that: if you get sick from eating bad prison food, the same company that poisoned you gets paid to operate the infirmary where you're treated:

https://theappeal.org/massachusetts-prisons-wellpath-dentures-teeth/

Now, the scam of abusing prisoners to extract desperate pennies from their families is hardly new. There's written records of this stretching back to the middle ages. Nor is this pattern a unique one: making an unavoidable situation as miserable as possible and then upcharging people who have the ability to pay to get free of the torture is basically how the airlines work. Making coach as miserable as possible isn't merely about shaving pennies by shaving inches off your legroom: it's a way to "incentivize" anyone who can afford it to pay for an upgrade to business-class. The worse coach is, the more people you can convince to dip into their savings or fight with their boss to move classes. The torments visited upon everyone else in coach are economically valuable to the airlines: their groans and miseries translate directly into windfall profits, by convincing better-off passengers to pay not to have the same thing done to them.

Of course, with rare exceptions (flying to get an organ transplant, say) plane tickets are typically discretionary. Housing, on the other hand, is a human right and a prerequisite for human thriving. The worse things are for tenants, the more debt and privation people will endure to become home-owners, so it follows that making renters worse off makes homeowners richer:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/06/the-rents-too-damned-high/

For Securus and Viapath, the path to profitability is to lobby for mandatory, long prison sentences and then make things inside the prison as miserable as possible. Any prisoner whose family can find the funds can escape the worst of it, and all the prisoners who can't afford it serve the economically important function of showing the prisoners whose families can afford it how bad things will be if they don't pay.

If you're thinking that prisoners might pay Securus, Viapath and their competitors out of their own prison earnings, forget it. These companies have decided that the can make more by pocketing the difference between the vast sums paid by third parties for prisoners' labor and the pennies the prisoners get from their work. Remember, the 13th Amendment specifically allows for the enslavement of incarcerated people! Six states ban paying prisoners at all. North Carolina caps prisoners' wages at one dollar per day. The national average prison wage is $0.52/hour. Prisoners' labor produces $11b/year in goods and services:

https://www.dollarsandsense.org/archives/2024/0324bowman.html

Forced labor and extortion are a long and dishonorable tradition in incarceration, but this century saw the introduction of a novel, exciting way of extracting wealth from prisoners and their families. It started when private telcos took over prison telephones and raised the price of a prison phone call. These phone companies found willing collaborators in local jail and prison systems: all they had to do was offer to split the take with the jailers.

With the advent of the internet, things got far worse. Digitalization meant that prisons could replace the library, adult educations, commissary accounts, letter-mail, parcels, in-person visits and phone calls with a single tablet. These cheaply made tablets were offered for free to prisoners, who lost access to everything from their kids' handmade birthday cards to in-person visits with those kids.

In their place, prisoners' families had to pay huge premiums to have their letters scanned so that prisoners could pay (again) to view those scans on their tablets. Instead of in-person visits, prisoners families had to pay $3-10/minute for a janky, postage-stamp sized video. Perversely, jails and prisons replaced their in-person visitation rooms with rooms filled with shitty tablets where family members could sit and videoconference with their incarcerated loved ones who were just a few feet away:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/14/minnesota-nice/#shitty-technology-adoption-curve

Capitalists hate capitalism. The capital classes are on a relentless search for markets with captive customers and no competitors. The prison-tech industry was catnip for private equity funds, who bought and "rolled" up prison contractors, concentrating the sector into a duopoly of debt-laden companies whose ability to pay off their leveraged buyouts was contingent on their ability to terrorize prisoners' families into paying for their overpriced, low-quality products and services.

One particularly awful consequence of these rollups was the way that prisoners could lose access to their data when their prison's service-provider was merged with a rival. When that happened, the IT systems would be consolidated, with the frequent outcome that all prisoners' data was lost. Imagine working for two weeks to pay for a song or a book, or a scan of your child's handmade Father's Day card, only to have the file deleted in an IT merger. Now imagine that you're stuck inside for another 20 years.

This is a subject I've followed off and on for years. It's such a perfect bit of end-stage capitalist cruelty, combining mass incarceration with monopolies. Even if you're not imprisoned, this story is haunting, because on the one hand, America keeps thinking of new reasons to put more people behind bars, and on the other hand, every technological nightmare we dream up for prisoners eventually works its way out to the rest of us in a process I call the "shitty technology adoption curve." As William Gibson says, "The future is here, it's just not evenly distributed" – but the future sure pools up thick and dystopian around America's prisoners:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/24/gwb-rumsfeld-monsters/#bossware

My background interest in the subject got sharper a few years ago when I started working on The Bezzle, my 2023 high-tech crime thriller about prison-tech grifters:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle

One of the things that was on my mind when I got to work on that book was the 2017 court-case that killed the FCC's rules limit interstate prison-call gouging. The FCC could have won that case, but Trump's FCC chairman, Ajit Pai, dropped it:

https://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/2017/06/prisoners-lose-again-as-court-wipes-out-inmate-calling-price-caps/

With that bad precedent on the books, the only hope prisoners had for relief from the FCC was for Congress to enact legislation specifically granting the agency the power to regulate prison telephony. Incredibly, Congress did just that, with Biden signing the "Martha Wright-Reed Just and Reasonable Communications Act" in early 2023:

https://www.congress.gov/bill/117th-congress/senate-bill/1541/text

With the new law in place, it fell to the FCC use those newfound powers. Compared to agencies like the FTC and the NLRB, Biden's FCC has been relatively weak, thanks in large part to the Biden administration's refusal to defend its FCC nomination for Gigi Sohn, a brilliant and accomplished telecoms expert. You can tell that Sohn would have been a brilliant FCC commissioner because of the way that America's telco monopolists and their allies in the senate (mostly Republicans, but some Democrats, too) went on an all-out offensive against her, using the fact that she is gay to smear her and ultimately defeat her nomination:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/19/culture-war-bullshit-stole-your-broadband/

But even without Sohn, the FCC has managed to do something genuinely great for America's army of the imprisoned. This week, the FCC voted in price-caps on prison calls, so that call rates will drop from $11.35 for 15 minutes to just $0.90. Both interstate and intrastate calls will be capped at $0.06-0.12/minute, with a phased rollout starting in January:

https://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/2024/07/fcc-closes-final-loopholes-that-keep-prison-phone-prices-exorbitantly-high/

It's hard to imagine a policy that will get more bang for a regulator's buck than this one. Not only does this represent a huge savings for prisoners and their families, those savings are even larger in proportion to their desperate, meager finances.

It shows you how important a competent, qualified regulator is. When it comes to political differences between Republicans and Democrats, regulatory competence is a grossly underrated trait. Trump's FCC Chair Ajit Pai handed out tens of billions of dollars in public money to monopoly carriers to improve telephone networks in underserved areas, but did so without first making accurate maps to tell him where the carriers should invest. As a result, that money was devoured by executive bonuses and publicly financed dividends and millions of Americans entered the pandemic lockdowns with broadband that couldn't support work-from-home or Zoom school. When Biden's FCC chair Jessica Rosenworcel took over, one of her first official acts was to commission a national study and survey of broadband quality. Republicans howled in outrage:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/10/digital-redlining/#stop-confusing-the-issue-with-relevant-facts

The telecoms sector has been a rent-seeking, monopolizing monster since the days of Samuel Morse:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/07/18/the-bell-system/#were-the-phone-company-we-dont-have-to-care

Combine telecoms and prisons, and you get a kind of supermonster, the meth-gator of American neofeudalism:

https://www.nbcnews.com/news/us-news/tennessee-police-warn-locals-not-flush-drugs-fear-meth-gators-n1030291

The sector is dirty beyond words, and it corrupts everything it touches – bribing prison officials to throw out all the books in the prison library and replace them with DRM-locked, high-priced ebooks that prisoners must toil for weeks to afford, and that vanish from their devices whenever a prison-tech company merges with a rival:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/02/captive-customers/#guillotine-watch

The Biden presidency has been fatally marred by the president's avid support of genocide, and nothing will change that. But for millions of Americans, the Biden administration's policies on telecoms, monopoly, and corporate crime have been a source of profound, lasting improvements.

It's not just presidents who can make this difference. Millions of America's prisoners are rotting in state and county jails, and as California has shown, state governments have broad latitude to kick out prison profiteers:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/08/captive-audience/#good-at-their-jobs

Support me this summer on the Clarion Write-A-Thon and help raise money for the Clarion Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers' Workshop!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/07/19/martha-wright-reed/#capitalists-hate-capitalism

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

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[dilatorywriting]

Heroes vs. Villains : Octavinelle [Part 2]

Gender Neutral Reader x Octavinelle vs. Rielle Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: Woe to the Ramshackle Prefect, being caught up in the drama between the Disney Villains and their respective heroes. Octavinelle Version, Part 2 ie. Your red-headed hero arrives at Night Raven College and your other aquatic friends are less than enthused.

[PART 1] [PART 2]

The VDC is going to be one of the biggest events in Night Raven College’s history. It’s going to be spectacular, awe-inspiring, one for the history books. And somehow, by the grace of the Gods (or, well, Vil and Professor Crewel) you have tickets.

So naturally, Azul wants you to work through the entire thing.

“I know you don’t like people,” he’d smiled, as if he was offering you salvation on a silver platter. “And just think of it—all those crowds of sweaty, screaming, humans running around. It only seems right that I, as your employer and friend, do my due diligence to keep you safe during all of it, hmm?”

“We’re just thinking of your wellbeing,” Jade had piped in, a gloved hand pressed to his chest all innocent-like. You weren’t fooled for a second.

“And think of all the extra Thaumarks you’ll earn in tips!” Azul chirped. “I know being in a new world has been difficult for you in more ways than one, and that the financial burden in particular has been terribly unpleasant. So really, we’re just doing everything we can to assist you!”

Lies about being considerate for your ‘delicate mental health’ aside, money was good. Money was great. And besides, all you really cared about was the Choral Competition. As long as you could sneak away for that one, camping out in the Lounge didn’t actually seem like the worst idea in the world. The food was excellent, the atmosphere soothing, and the company was—

…Well.

‘Less than desirable’ would probably be an understatement. But Azul always let you take home the leftovers at the end of the night, and sometimes on colder nights Jade would make you a cup of cocoa with no mushrooms in it or anything. So maybe you could excuse a bit of sadism here and there.

So the VDC came and little, poor, you were squirreled away behind the gilded doors of the Mostro Lounge. Aside for the influx of costumers (and subsequent ‘event price hikes’), it was hardly different than any of your other shifts. The one notable difference was how often Azul swapped your station. Normally you were on door duty, or acting as part of the wait staff. But every time a group of RSA students strutted by in their fancy white uniforms, the Octo-Mer would shuffle you off to the kitchens. Or the bar. Or even his office sometimes, demanding assistance with clerical work.

Someone called your name and you lifted your head from your cloud of misery and menial labor—only half paying attention to the people you were ushering in towards the seating area. But instead of another unfamiliar blob waving you down, you actually recognized this guy. Him and his brilliant shock of red hair that you wouldn’t be able to miss from a mile away.

Lo – it was fork dude.

Or, well, Prince Rielle Tidal of Atlantica. But whatever. Man had pushed a utensil into your hands and told you to brush your hair with it. There was no coming back from that.

Your sun-kissed savior swerved through the line to greet you, nearly bowling you over in his enthusiasm. His RSA uniform was a blotch of bleached brightness against the sea of Night Raven’s black ensemble. Normally your rival academics seemed to travel in packs—safety in numbers and all that. But Rielle was weaving through the mass of grumpy NRC faces like he was perfectly at home.

“I decided to pop by to see Azul and his business—because, you know, he was always so smart and pragmatic so I knew it’d probably be really cool and whatever—but wow! It’s really you!”

“It’s really me,” you repeated, fighting to keep the chirp in your customer service voice. “So, would you like a table or—"

“Wait a second—Azul has you working during the festival?!” Rielle gawked, as if he was just realizing that he had stepped into a place a of business, and that you were wearing the uniform of said establishment. “That’s so cruel!”

Yes. Yes it was. But Azul was nothing if not cruel. And if this guy actually knew anything about him at all, he should be perfectly aware of that.

“Someone has to do it,” you shrugged. “Anyways, can I get you something to—”

“Wah, look at this! Shrimpy’s slackin’ on the job!”

Maybe you could put your head through the wall. That would probably be less painful.

Floyd, Jade, and Azul materialized behind you seemingly out of thin air. The terrible trio greeted your dour frown with varying degrees of spiteful glee. And… something else? There was a sort of tension about them that didn’t mesh with their usual haughtiness. It had cropped up for the first time a few weeks ago—that day at the beach. And subsequently the hours after when Jade had pulled Azul into his office to whisper all kinds of nonsense that was apparently ‘too delicate’ for you and whatever tolerance you’d built for these sociopaths.

“Actually, it’s my fault!” Rielle blurted, stepping smoothly in front of you with all the chivalry of a knight. You wanted to warn him that dipping into Floyd’s bite radius was a terrible idea, but at the same time, you were tired, and hungry, and very curious to see how this would all play out. “And I was just wondering—well… I—I mean…”

The young Prince was starting to splutter, his cheeks burning that same, hot, pink that they had all those weeks ago at the beach. He took a moment to clear his throat, compose himself, and then grasped your hands with both of his very neatly manicured ones.

You thought you heard someone gasp. Like in a period novel.

“I actually heard that you were at Night Raven too! And I’ve been looking all over for you! So—I—Would you—” More throat clearing. Floyd’s teeth were grinding together so loudly it almost sounded like a buzzsaw. “Do you want to get something to eat with me?”

There was a deafening crack and you watched as Jade nearly put Floyd through the floor in an attempt to keep him from lurching forward. You observed the scene before you with pleasant sort of surprise as the trio across from you erupted. Or, well, Floyd had erupted. Jade just had that perfectly polite smile on his mouth that let you know he was planning someone’s murder. And Azul looked like he’d just taken physical damage.

Huh. Interesting.

Then again, you’d known they were a proprietary bunch. And you also knew that you were the favorite chew toy around these parts. No one else was sturdy enough for the role, apparently.

“Oi, Princey,” Floyd snarled from behind Jade’s gloved fingers. “What do you think you’re—"

“I—” you interrupted, stepping between the rabid Merfolk and the would-be-mincemeat. “—would love to.”

Silence.

“…What?” Azul squawked.

“I’m due for my break anyways,” you shrugged, enjoying the horrible little surge of satisfaction warming your gut. Take that, you obnoxious fucks. You weren’t sure why Rielle and his crimson-monstrosity of a hairdo had set the three of them off so terribly, but you’d been on your feet for hours now. And missing all the food stalls, and your other friends, and you were going to take this petty revenge where you could.

You turned to Rielle with a polite little smile that you hoped looked more demure than scheming, and his eyes sparkled.

“You don’t mind eating here, do you?” you asked before shooting Azul an award-winning grin. “I’m sure having a Prince dining in would be great advertisement.”

“But of course,” he grit out. “Who would I be to turn down such a ringing endorsement.”

Rielle tossed an amiable arm across your shoulders and laughed that tinkling, church-bell, laugh of his. Floyd’s lip twitched and Azul snagged his arm quicker than a snake could strike. The snarling behemoth was promptly dragged off into the depths of the Lounge—Azul muttering something frantically under his breath that you couldn’t make out. He looked hunched, panicked. And whatever he was saying must have been serious enough to snag Floyd’s fickle attentions, because the too-tall henchman stayed firmly at his boss’s side. The pair of them vanished into the kitchens, the door slamming behind them.

“Just this way then, if you’d please,” Jade beamed, positively glacial.

“This’ll be great!” the Prince preened, keeping a loose grip on you as you both trailed a very stiff Eel through the front parlor. “I get to see all of Azul’s awesome accomplishments and have lunch with you at the same time!”

“The Mostro Lounge is a lovely place to dine,” you chirped, repeating your familiar, scripted, server prompts from memory. “There’s something for everyone.”

“Is that so?” Rielle hummed, as if in deep thought. “That’s very considerate of them.”

Plenty of people at this school liked to insult your intelligence, and you in turn liked to remind certain someones (Ace. Sebek.) that it was best not to throw stones in glass houses. But this was—you may have really found an actual, factual, ditz. Was this how Azul felt all the time? Looking down at you mere mortals with his superior IQ and cunning? Listening to Rielle’s innocent rambling made you feel like Einstein. It was… sort of nice.

My God, you were going to have be responsible for him, weren’t you? Is that was parenthood felt like?

Jade led you to a quiet booth in the back—the one with a direct line of sight to both the kitchens and Azul’s office. The one reserved for problem customers. You folded yourself neatly onto the cushioned bench and Rielle followed, sitting at your side rather than across the table. Something in Jade’s jaw twitched.

“What do you recommend?” Rielle asked you cheerfully, practically radiating enthusiasm. “I’m sure everything is fantastic!”

“Hmm… How about the Mixed Seafood Platter to start I think,” you grinned, turning your polite beam back on your unfortunate server. “With the Unagi, please.”

Beneath all that bubbling irritation, something in those bi-colored eyes gleamed with the barest hint of respect.

“But of course. If you’ll excuse me.”

Once Jade had retreated, Rielle relaxed back into his seat with a theatrical sigh. He brushed his neat swoop of hair off his forehead, like he was wiping away sweat from a workout.

“Phewf! Not that Azul’s friends aren’t nice and all, but they always give me a bit of the heebie-jeebies.”

That was the kindest word for ‘intense murderous aura’ that you’d ever heard.

“A bit, yeah,” you agreed easily enough. “So how do you know Azul?”

“Oh!” he perked right back up. “We were classmates! When we were younger. He was always really quiet, but also really smart! Is he still like that? Quiet—I mean. Reserved.”

A memory struck you then—of standing at Azul’s side in the lobby of the Atlantica Memorial Museum. You remembered his hesitant determination as he replaced his old class photo on the wall. The picture of a tiny, rounder, Azul standing off to the side—hunched, grey, and miserable amidst a sea of laughing faces. You couldn’t remember if there had been a brilliant slash of red mixed in there anywhere. You hadn’t even bothered to check. Because why would you have even deigned to look at the faces of a group of bullies?

Something soured in your gut.

“I wouldn’t say that, no,” your smile sharpening a bit at the edges. “He’s actually very talkative. It’s hard to get him to shut up most of the time.”

“Really?” Rielle gaped. “Wow! That’s awesome!”

Jade slithered by to drop off your appetizers, and if he noticed the slight drop in your mood he didn’t mention it. He was in and out in a flash. You could just see the whisps of his teal hair disappearing back into Azul’s office.

“Enough about Azul though,” Rielle waved off, reaching for the platter. “Tell me about you!”

“Me?” you echoed, bland. “But isn’t Azul your old friend?”

The Prince waved you off once more, cheeks pinkening all over again. “I can talk to him whenever. I’d much rather hear about you! You’re—You’re interesting!”

Now, that was probably a genuine compliment. You doubted Rielle actually meant to slight your friend companion boss by implying that the most ambitious, intelligent, cunning, and well-dressed merman on campus wasn’t interesting enough to converse about—that all of Azul’s efforts to bring himself out of the shadows and onto center stage were still wanting. But that bitter thing in your stomach was raring for a fight.

So you ruffled around in your uniform pocket and pulled out the little notebook you used to tally orders. You shot Rielle the brightest, sweetest, smile you could and watched his stupidly pretty face light up redder than his hair.

“Actually,” you giggled—giggled. Like a freak. “I’d love to hear about you.”

.

.

.

“He’s going to say something!—”

“What doesn’t Shrimpy already know, huh?” Floyd griped. “And I mean, didn’t you steal Ramshackle? You really think bubble-butt out there can do anything to make the Prefect hate you?”

Azul paced. And paced. And paced.

“It’s not about hating me,” he hissed, fighting the urge to wring his hands. “It’s about realizing there are better options out there, and—”

“Bubble-butt is a better option?!” Floyd cackled.

“Stop interrupting me!”

“Then stop whining,” the eel droned, flopping his head back against the couch. “You shoulda just let me squeeze ‘em.”

“We do not need to spark an international incident in my restaurant,” Azul repeated. Though it sounded less like he was trying to convince Floyd than himself.  “Rielle Tidal is a Prince—”

“—a shitty, turd, leftover, Prince—”

“—who we must treat,” Azul grit out, “as such.”

There was a firm rap against the door and Jade slipped inside. Azul had to fight the reflex to pounce on him immediately. Instead he took a moment to pause and straighten his suit jacket. His fingers were shaking and he was sure that Jade would have seen, but thankfully there seemed to be a single shred of mercy left in his Vice-Warden’s cold, withered, heart, and the trembling limbs were not mentioned.

Jade cleared his throat and Azul leaned forward, anxious.

“I think you may be overthinking things,” he said, calm as a cucumber, and Azul wanted to scream.

“It’s not paranoia, it’s being prepared,” he snipped. A pause. “But why do you say that? What happened? Did something happen?”

Jade smiled that placid smile of his. “No.”

“No?” Azul repeated, flabbergasted.

“No,” Jade shrugged.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Floyd piped in.

Azul was just about to turn and remind his wonderful subordinate just how terrible he could make his existence when there was another knock at the door—lighter than Jade’s but just as familiar. Not a moment later, your head popped through the crack and you peaked inside wearily.

Azul hastily cleared his throat and Jade’s grin turned smug.

“Pr-Prefect! Can I help you with something?”

Floyd snickered under his breath and Azul mentally added another three hours onto the bastard’s nightly dish duties.

You stepped inside and tossed a tiny notebook down onto his desk.

“Here,” you said, with a grumpy sort of frown on your face. “All of Prince Rielle of Atlantica’s stupid wants, hopes, and dreams. You better be able to put this to good use you stupid mafioso wannabe, because I’ve been listening to this guy ramble on about himself for ages now, and I’d rather get drowned by Jade and Floyd again.”

You turned without another word and slammed the door behind you.

Azul gaped wordlessly at the pile of tiny pages splattered across his desk, and the familiar curl of your handwriting filling each and every one of them.

“Oh,” he breathed.

“Oh indeed,” Jade grinned.

[fuck-customers]

Kind of a fuck customers but also a satisfying story at the same time.

My role in the call center I work in involves taking specifically corporate calls, which means I spend all day talking to “business professionals” (and I use that term loosely) including CEOs. As you can imagine, over 90% of these CEOs are the scum of the earth and the most entitled assfaces on the planet.

A week or so ago, I took a call and went through my usual routine of greeting the cardholder and then began going over verification questions. Since we’re A.) a bank and B.) a bank that handles corporate and government credit cards, we take security seriously and require a caller to be able to verify 3 pieces of information based on what the person responsible for their credit cards put on the account. If they don’t pass, we refer them to their company to get the right details.

So as I’m doing this, the guy on the phone is getting increasingly irritated as he keeps getting the security questions wrong. I’m calm and professional the entire time but firm. Eventually I run out of things to verify with him and tell him that we won’t be able to assist and that he needs to contact his administrator. This is apparently where I went wrong.

“LADY I AM THE ADMINISTRATOR!!” He screeches. Ok, great. I look him up and that’s true but there’s a second admin listed, so I ask him to check in with him. He then yells “THERE IS NO OTHER ADMIN! I’M THE CEO OF THIS COMPANY FOR CHRIST’S SAKE!!”

I apologize and tell him while that may be true, he still got his security questions wrong and needs to reach out to his account coordinator then. This man then proceeds to scream at me for the next minute or so saying how we’re an awful bank, how he’s had problems with us for years, blah blah and how we have the worst customer service ever. Keep in mind, I’ve been nice and empathetic this entire time but also I’m not gonna lose my fucking job just because a guy in a suit doesn’t know his shit. I give him the email to his account coordinator and stress again that he needs to talk to them. Then this exchange happens:

Him: “So let me get this straight. You are saying you are REFUSING and UNWILLING to help me, right?

Me: “No, actually I’d love to help you, however we have these security procedures in place for yours and your company’s protection and cannot make exceptions for anyone.”

Him: “This is fucking UNBELIEVABLE! I’ve HAD IT with this bank!!”

Me: “Ok, I’m sorry to hear that. Anything else I can do for you before we disconnect?”

Him: “WHAT IS YOUR NAME? I NEED YOUR NAME. NOW.”

Me: *gives my first name and spells it for him even though it’s a very basic 4 letter name because I’m a bitch*

Him: YOUR LAST NAME.

Me: “We don’t give out anything but our first name for the safety of our employees.”

Him: *insert that condescending, pissed off chuckle middle aged men do when they’re mad here* “Well I’ll tell you what (My Name), when I close this account and pull my MILLIONS OF DOLLARS out of (bank name) and they ask me why, I’ll make sure to tell them that it’s (My Name)’s fault. And I will see to it that you won’t be able to get another job outside of the minimum wage fast food job or whatever you had before this. How does that sound?”

Me: “Sounds great. Now seeing as how this conversation is no longer productive or professional and threats are being made, I’ll be terminating the call, have a nice day.”

Him: “DO NOT HANG UP O-“

Me: *click*

And that’s how making rich, powerful men rage-cry became my new favorite hobby. Thankfully, I haven’t gotten any feedback on that call; not that I would, seeing as how I did my job exactly how I was supposed to. Anyways I hope I’m his 13th reason. ❤️

Posted by admin Rodney.

[grandlinedreams]

Hii !!! If you haven't done it already , can you make a part 2 to https://www.tumblr.com/grandlinedreams/732931737043255296/hehe-hi-lovelov-luvvv-the-angst-u-write-could (sorry I can't create hyperlinks due to my pc crashing everytime I try !) ? I loved it so much that I neeedddd a 2nd part that's just as angstyyyyy. I love your angst so much !!

Hiya!! I absolutely can, but i also got asked to resolve it well so I hope I can do this justice for everyone who wanted a part two! First part [here]

[Heads up!: canon typical violence, hefty dose of angst, hurt/comfort]

It's been a week since you bargained your freedom for Law's, offered your services to barter for his safety ㅡ and you still don't regret it.

The ship you've been forced onto is a far cry from the comforts of the Polar Tang with battered wooden floors and a hull that you're surprised withstands the waves that crash against it.

The crew also is nothing like the one you're used to ㅡ not that you see much of them. You spend most of your time at a desk with varying maps spread out before you, pen in hand as you're demanded to make note of any and all locations to treasure or anything of interest regarding the One Piece.

"If I find out you're lying, or if any of this is a trap," your captor hisses, pressing the sharp edge of a blade to your throat, "don't think I won't slit your throat and throw you overboard for the sea kings."

You don't bat an eye, even as metal bites into your skin, the warm drip of blood that follows. "I don't doubt it."

Your captor ㅡ Hendle, or whatever he'd said his name was ㅡ glares at you, clearly unhappy that he hadn't gotten the reaction he wanted. "I'll have someone drop food off. Don't even think of looking for an escape."

And then he's gone, leaving you with only maps and the guttering glow of an oil lamp for company. You reach out with the clink of the ever present seaprism stone cuffs, trace a narrow line of ink towards a place you've circled, tapping it thoughtfully.

Though it's a long shot and requires a heap of hope, if you can somehow leave a clue or evidence behind, if Law is tracking you (which you have no doubts he is, Trafalgar Law is a lot of things but one to abandon crewmates is not one of them), he can find it.

You bite your lip. It's a stretch and it'll have to be something both subtle and obvious enough to be from you ㅡ but you can at least try.

ㅡ

Though you're also a pirate, helping these kinds of pirates makes you feel slimy as you watch yet another chest of glittering gold and jewels be pried from its hiding spot and hauled back towards the ship.

"You've got an eye for treasure," Hendle tells you, eyes you in a way that makes your skin crawl and your fingers twitch with the urge to ball into fists. "I could get used to having you as part of my crew."

Anger flares. "I'm already part of a crew," you tell him flatly. "And it isn't yours."

The fist that connects with your jaw is expected given that the other times you've spoken out it's been met with swift violence, but the ring on his finger catches on skin, splitting it open.

"They're not going to rescue you," he growls, fury clear in his tone. "The sooner you understand that, the better."

And then he stalks off, leaving you alone. He clearly thinks you'll follow and while the idea of bolting is tempting, you know you're not going to make it far.

Blood drips slowly down your cheek, and you bring your hands up with the rattle of chain that's become frustratingly familiar. Swiping a finger against your skin, you stare at the tacky red, debating.

You can't ask for a pen, have no way of leaving proof you were here that won't disappear otherwise or be overtly obvious ㅡ this will have to do.

ㅡ

And so it goes ㅡ with every island that you end up on, you find some way to leave proof of your presence and hope that it's enough to point the right way.

If Law is even looking for you. You want to believe that he is, but what if he isn't? Logic is cruel ㅡ that he's wasting more resources than necessary to come after you. That he should cut his losses and move on.

It's a cold knife thrust between your ribs and up into your heart, piercing with the ache and fear that this is your life now, days measured by how useful you are.

What happens when you stop being of use? After all, there's only so many places you know of, and only so long you can get away with lying about information pertaining to the One Piece. Hendle is bound to figure it out sooner rather than later.

You stare at your wrists, the rubbed raw quality where the stone has chafed, the slow sap of any and all energy you manage to find by sleeping. And even when you do sleep, it's far from well ㅡ worries and fears follow you into dreamland, torment you with what could happen.

And what would have happened if you'd never done any of this in the first place. You've lost count or how many dreams you've been wrenched out of with a gasp, cold sweat beading on your forehead as you tried to push away the images of Law being killed in front of you, of feeling helpless to save him.

This, you decide, is far better than that.

ㅡ

This is the last island you've been able to mark on the map. Hendle has said nothing to you about what he plans to do with you, but you can assume it's nothing good.

Which is why you keep your eyes trained on him and the men that follow him, waiting until their attention is elsewhere ㅡ and then you bolt.

You know you're unlikely to make it far, but it's worth the way you can hear shouting behind you as you run as fast as your legs can carry you.

The chain clinks as you gasp for air, acutely aware of the burn of your muscles and ache of your body ㅡ but you keep going. You have to. Whether Law rescues you or not, you can't stand the idea of being around those thugs for another minute.

You'd rather die.

Something sharp bites into the meat of your left shoulder, makes you stumble and nearly topple before you correct your balance and keep going. Warmth leaks down your arm, white-hot pain that you use to ground yourself.

You can't defend yourself, best bet being that of running into someone who will be kind enough to help ㅡ and if you can make it that far in the first place.

You want to go home. You want the warm metal walls of the Polar Tang and the hum of machinery, the dumb jokes and silly arguments ㅡ you want your family. You want ㅡ

"Room."

Law.

"Shambles."

Your feet aren't kicking up dirt and pebbles anymore, the brief jolt jostling your shoulder and making you hiss as your legs give out.

You don't fall, though ㅡ familiar hands catch you, familiar tattoos ㅡ Law. He's here, he's real ㅡ he came to rescue you.

"You made it," you say softly as he picks you up, mindful of the way your shoulder is still bleeding. "You're late, though."

"I know." Law's lips press to your temple, and he closes his eyes as you lean into the touch. "I'm sorry."

[lonniemachin]

Ahmed reached out to me to help spread his fundraiser. He is urgently attempting to raise money to evacuate his displaced 7-person family, including his parents, wife, and brothers, from Gaza to Egypt and gain access to necessities of survival. He has only made kr111,012 out of his kr350,000 goal so far! Please share and donate, and if you can't donate, please still share!

From Ahmed's GFM:

please note

conversion rate is (100 USD = 700 DDK)

Dear compassionate supporters,

I extend my heartfelt plea to you, driven by the urgency of the dire situation my family faces in the chaos of Gaza, a war-torn region. I am Ahmed Shamia, a fourth year student of application development, I come to you seeking your generous support to evacuate my beloved 7 family members from the hazardous conditions we currently endure in Gaza and relocate us to safety in Egypt.

Meet my remarkable family:

Parents:

Dad : A skilled social service employee and has many international certificates.

Mom : The heart of our family, A lovely teacher.

Me and my wife: a nice couple the war destroyed our dreams to be a nice family.

My sick brother Yasser : who has cerebral palsy and need an immediate care.

My middle brother Mahmoud : who have a big dream to complete his study.

My little brother omar: he also have a big dreams to study like every child in the world.

Shortly after the war started, our house was bombed, and we’ve since been displaced more than four times and lost all of our money. Our only hope of restoring some semblance of normal life is to evacuate. For over 170 days, we’ve lacked basic necessities. Among other things, we lack access to clean water, medicine, healthcare, and gas for cooking.

The Urgent Situation:

my family suffers of displacement and inability to care my older brother, who has cerebral palsy and cannot eat even his food. He eats it with difficulty because of problems in his lungs, and he now needs care and treatment. The medicines have become severed and his condition deteriorates day after day so that he does not know the taste of sleep because of the disease.

As I write you, the Israeli army’s planned invasion of Rafah grows ever closer. We have lost everything we’d worked so hard to earn and build, and now have no place to go. ‏Your support and solidarity will give us a fighting chance of surviving and building our lives anew.

Financial Details:

Travel company (YA HALH) costs $5,000 for people over 18.

And $2,500 for people under the age of 18.

A total of $30,000 to evacuate the Shamia family from Gaza to Egypt.

And $10,000 to cover the care expenses of Yasser Mohamed Shamia, who suffers from cerebral palsy.

And an additional $10,000 to cover the cost of living and basic family needs.

Thank you for your kindness during this challenging time. Your support is crucial in this humanitarian endeavor.

any additional donations will go for their survival in Egypt and their return when war ends.

Gratefully,

Ahmed

[reasonsforhope]

Amazon delivery drivers and dispatchers walked out of their delivery facility on Thursday to demand that Amazon bargain with them. The 84 drivers currently on strike have held picket lines before, but this is the first time Amazon drivers have walked out in the U.S., according to a Teamsters press release. 

The drivers, who work for the Amazon delivery service partner (DSP) Battle-Tested Strategies in Palmdale, California, unionized with the Teamsters in late April, and are demanding that Amazon come to the bargaining table to negotiate a contract. Drivers have already negotiated and ratified a contract with the DSP, which voluntarily recognized their union. 

Amazon has previously stated that, because the drivers don’t work directly for Amazon—they work for the DSP, which is then contracted by Amazon—that the company is not obligated to bargain with them. For the past month, the union has been trying to prove that wrong, saying that, despite Amazon placing all responsibility onto the DSP, it is in fact in “complete control” of the DSP’s operations. 

“We are on the picket line today to demand the pay and safety standards that we deserve,” said Raj Singh, one unionized driver on strike, in a statement. “We work hard for a multibillion-dollar corporation. We should be able to provide food and clothes for our kids.” 

The drivers’ contract with the DSP guarantees a higher wage, protections against the extreme heat of California summers, and the right to refuse unsafe deliveries. Heat is an industry-wide hazard for delivery drivers. Motherboard has previously reported on how UPS drivers must deal with temperatures of over 120 degrees Fahrenheit in the summer. Earlier this week, the Teamsters won a tentative agreement with UPS guaranteeing improved heat protections and air conditioning in trucks...

“Amazon has no respect for the rule of law, the health of its workers, or the livelihood of their families,” said Randy Korgan, the director of the Teamsters Amazon Division, which has been working to organize Amazon facilities to protect workers and maintain wage standards in the delivery and logistics industry. “Workers are on strike today because the only thing this corporate criminal cares about is profits. We are sending a message to Amazon that violating worker rights will no longer be business as usual.”

-via Motherboard at Vice, June 15, 2023

[skyartworkzzz]

what do the bishops do in the cult? Are they happy or plotting revenge?

At first their reactions varied from plotting revenge to escaping or overtaking the cult, I think all of them have tried to kill the Lamb at some point xD

But with enough time and the right companies, they eventually learned to like their new home! And even find themselves guilty for what theyve done in the past, each at their own pace and manner

Long texts under the cut for more details! :D

Leshy was probably the less-management one, when he joined he'd break a lot of things and purposefully make the Lamb's life harder, like a kid throwing a tantrum It was only when he was assigned under Beau's care that he chilled out. Beau has always been good with people, so it was no problem for him to figure Leshy out and help him to eventually come to terms with his new home After the getting-used-to's, Leshy became pretty much the chillest out of all the other Bishops. He's fine with living in the cult and honestly enjoys it to an extent, but will obviously never say it aloud xD once threatening people and the Lamb, now befriending / getting acquainted with some of them! He works as a farmer or bartender most of the time

Heket was surprisingly along the same lines of chill. She was definitely unhappy with her situation, but was the most relieved one to be free from the Crowns influence Now able to genuinely experience the taste of food and feel that emptiness inside of her being filled in at last, she quickly learned to like her new home Ofc tho, she never said it, and in fact became much quieter compared to before, since she no longer had the Crowns power to easen up her throat. Now it hurts a lot more to talk, she has to take meds in order to soothe it up and tends to communicate mostly in gestures, stares or acts of service depending on her mood. She also knows sign language! :D She mostly works at the mines or lumberyards, seemingly enjoying to break things apart. The Lamb thinks its her way of "coping" with not being a Bishop anymore lol Out of all the Bishops, shes probably the loneliest, not many have the guts to approach her and Heket tends to like being by herself usually. Sometimes she can be found sulking about with Narinder, the second loneliest out of all the others

Kallamar was likely the most outraged one, since hes been stripped away from the luxuries of being a Bishop like clothings, weapons, jewelries, a nice fancy home. He thought that getting the Crowns back could bring his old life back, not for the sake of power, but the comfort and safety it gave him. Hes definitely the one who has tried scheming against the Lamb many times, still holding his knowledge of weapons and magic in general. But to no surprise, he always failed LOL Kallamar only started calming down once seeing his spouses/disciples in the cult, whom he had tried to get to work with him against the Lamb, but refused or failed still After everything, he'd become depressed, desperately missing when he was taken seriously as an authority figure, but with time his spouses will teach him to like his new life Nowadays he still misses his old life, but is more at peace with being in the cult, especially knowing those he loves and cares about the most are with him (aka his spouses and siblings). Hes the one who will break the most sweat to truly get used to the cult Sometimes he works as a tailor or at the refinery, crafting tends to calm him down and distract him from his thoughts. However, he mostly prefers to be a medic at the Healing Bay, since its one of the few things that remind him of what he once was

Shamura would likely jump from chill to disturbed depending on their mood. Although they believe to be deserving of their punishment, a part of their mind which was considerably overtaken by the Crowns' ideals will sometimes force them to look for a way out or relinquish back the eldritch power, usually against Shamura's will, like voices they'd hear from time to time telling them what to do All in all tho, theyd be the one to try their best to like their new home and even purposefully make themselves miserable out of guilt for their past mistakes, something which the Lamb is either compassionate for or allows them to do due to their own hatred for the Bishops still There'd be many times where Shamura seemed to "sleepwalk" around or found themselves outside the cult without memory of how they got there. Itd be only when they ask the Lamb to become their Disciple that the voices in their head start to quiet down, now being overpowered by the Red Crowns influence Eventually, they become an official Disciple and scribe for the Lamb. Their psychotic episodes will significantly reduce, but still happen from time to time with minor consequences The Lamb often finds themselves questioning whether Shamura is being genuine on what theyve chosen, but is very much compelled to forgive them one day

[lab1rynth]

YAN!SERVANT

(Someone sent an ask for this but tumblr ate it, Im sorry!!)

Yan!Servant who's worked for your family since you both were children. He was assigned to do as you say, when you say, as well as being your playmate so you hadn't bothered your parents. He was pretty damn good as his job seeing how he wasn't fired after years of service.

Yan!Servant who knew everything about you, exactly what you wanted down to the smallest detail, who'd stay behind you wherever you would go and keep you company. He delt with your spoilt self, and he was quite proud of how far he has come with you. It was barely a job to him anymore, you guys were friends!

Yan!Servant who started getting more protective over you when you got into the dating scene, he gave you an hour long lecture on dating safety. Telling you how horrible men are and how you'd most likely have to settle for less than perfect.

Yan!Servant who honestly gets a little mad when you go out on blind dates, he sits in a both next to you and your dates, watching and making sure you're safe and comfortable. A few of your dates called him out on his staring, and a few got quite uncomfortable and found any excuse to leave.

Yan!Servant who comforts you after your failed dates, saying how its their loss for not seeing how amazing you are, saying how nobody is worthy of your presence. He gives you a small hug and asks you if you want to take a walk around the city.

Yan!Servant who finds himself staring at you more often than normal with a blush on his face. Hitting himself over his feelings, he was not allowed to feel this way, he couldn't! You wouldn't have to settle for less if you settled for him, yet he's still a lesser person. You're of wealth and he and his family are basically just leaching on that money.

Yan!Servant who starts painting you in his free time, painting every miniscule detail until it was picture perfect. Yet the paintings still couldn't capture your beauty, nothing could compare. He'd rather see the real thing rather than paper.

Yan!Servant who does exactly that, he stares at you for hours on end with a little goofy smile on his face. His head rested on his hand as he imagines a future with you, why didn't you see that you were destined to be more than friends? It was so obvious.

Yan!Servant who starts sending you little notes with flowers he had found at a little flower shop nearby. He starts being more touchy, hugging you, cuddling you, holding your hand, placing his hand on the small of your back. He brings you your favorite food and drinks without being asked.

Yan!Servant who lets out a sigh when he figures out you couldn't care less about what he was doing for you. He knew you were spoilt, but in all his years of being your servant he would've never described you as ungrateful. That had started to change.

Yan!Servant who cant understand how you'd be so oblivious to his advances. He hadn't known how subtle he'd actually been but still! He's done so much for you and the least you could do is return some love his way!