#it may have been for profit but ultimately it was well-handled and respectful

[buskerjaskier]

So I saw a post floating about questioning the intentions behind Jaskier’s sexuality in S3, and I want to kindly remind everyone that respectful queer representation in media is still sorely lacking and so damn important (perhaps now more than ever) no matter its intentions, and Joey and Hugh handled it beautifully.

[valuehits]

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[cerastes]

AI is almost cool, but you're right. Right now the only way to actually make it worth your time is to have a small warehouse of machines working together to do anything and that is just way too privately owned and way too beneficial to an individual who obviously wants to use it for money.

If a library or museum had it and was running it on their collection that'd be an entirely different story. They'd probably be able to source their creations correctly too since they have that metadata in abundance. I wonder how Star Trek's holodecks handle that, since holodeck programming is pretty much the same thing as AI Prompt Based Generation.

Besides what I've already said about AI in regards to artistic integrity and how I do not trust techbros to harness any of this tech in any way that could prove altruistic and not aimed exclusively at making money and maybe even NFTs 2 - The Sequel, I do think it's important to point out that the technology behind it is amazing and the applications and implications of advancing AI technology are sincerely intriguing.

For example, with AI art, an animation team could easily and quickly produce in-between frames in key animation, that is, the transition frames and smear frames between more important shots. This would, if implemented properly, alleviate a significant load off the shoulders of animators, and we know animators can use all the help they can get nowadays, in an industry that becomes more and more demanding to its workforce and that is yet so immensely disrespected and underpaid.

An illustrator could also get a lot of reference for their own art. Anatomy, backgrounds, certain poses, objects at different angles, the applications really are there! A writer of a more visual disposition could easily generate a number of assets for internal, personal use only, to help visualize locales, characters, objects, and what have you. With a more specialized model, I believe even sculptors and other more hands-on and physical artforms could definitely benefit as well, especially when you consider the leaps and bounds in 3D printing.

My scathing criticism of AI 'artists' is one thing, because I do not for one second think of anyone as an artist by just putting in a prompt into an AI that then generates an image for them, and that will not change, you didn't create art, you simply used a tool, so don't call yourself an artist for that one, to whoever it may concern, but AI technology in itself is fascinating, and what frustrates me is not the fact that there's an AI that can make visuals easily -- that's honestly fascinating -- rather, it's the fact I do not at any point trust the tech industry to ever respect art in any capacity because they have a track record of not doing so, and the interest in creating an 'art AI' is wholly based on a thinly veiled desire to mass produce for the sake of raking in profits while -- and I insist, bear this in mind -- disguising it as an "accessible tool" that can make anyone an 'artist'.

We have to make sure we don't go durr hurr technology bad, Tesla was a witch, because it's easy to do so and I've seen some bad takes on that regard already, it's ultimately techbros and the tech industry that live on this hardlane bubble of "profit no matter what we destroy or defame". Most everything nowadays starts by techbros selling the ideal of "look how helpful this could be!" and getting a lot of attention on their product, and when it's ready for a stable release, they paygate it behind the kind of money only big private industries can afford, and fuck everyone else.

And hey, that's been a lot of the world of business for a long time, in many, many other regards, but if people expect artists not to make a fuss when techbros look at art and try that shit there, I have no idea what they expect. Which is wholly disrespectful, anyhow, because everyone loves art but hates artists for some reason. Not to sound like a cafe blog for a second, but I do need to point out that during the harshest parts of the pandemic, art is what people turned to in order to assuage themselves. I hope that knowledge stings whoever it may concern.

[atypicalsenerio]

A KNOCK AT THE DOOR is only a warning for the letter that is left in its wake. Pinned to the door with a dried rose, as though the cream envelope and lingering scent did not give its author away.

Within the envelope, parchment dyed a delicate lavender, the thinnest strip of gold at its edges, perfectly folded. The handwriting edges on excessive, the writing entirely too formal for its contents:

SOREN;

AS WE SHARE THE SAME DAY OF BIRTH, I FEEL IT ONLY POLITE TO EXTEND AN INVITATION FOR A CELEBRATION OF OUR MUTUAL MARK ON THE WORLD AT LARGE. WE WILL TALK BUSINESS, IF YOU WOULD PREFER; I AM INTERESTED IN KNOWING YOUR SPECIALTIES FOR POTENTIAL FUTURE USE AS HEIR TO HOUSE GLOUCESTER, BUT I DO HOPE YOU WILL INDULGE ME FURTHER THAN THAT.

I WILL BE WITHIN THE GARDEN’S GAZEBOS AFTER CLASSES ARE DISMISSED FOR THE AFTERNOON.

I EAGERLY AWAIT YOUR PRESENCE, AND MAY THE DAY BE KIND TO US BOTH.

YOURS,

LORENZ HELLMAN GLOUCESTER

Soren had almost forgotten their birthdays had, by some chance of fate, landed on the same day. It seemed an easy invitation to decline, but...

Their flower business had been profitable for them both. As irritating as nobles were, and indeed Lorenz and his correspondence literally smelled of nobility, Lorenz was useful. At least he was not like those of the Begnion senate, who prized beauty but would pay to demand service of the swords of others rather than ever fight for themselves. Lorenz actually seemed to handle himself well.

Before he thought too hard about it and landed on something akin to respect, Soren brought one of his remaining yet still fresh floral arrangements that he thought Lorenz might appreciate, and his new companion.

Julian liked the tea gardens, sniffing everywhere his nose could reach on the end of his leash. Soren had gotten in the habit of taking the dog everywhere but the library, class, the dining hail, and to train. The Aegir hound did best when sufficiently tired out, so Soren took a decent walk around the monastery before meeting Lorenz, hoping the puppy could sit still for the duration of their... tea party.

Of course, Soren should have known Lorenz would have brought tea and refreshments on their birthdays. He nodded to Lorenz, catching sight of him and the table laden with food. It looked like the scene of a painting more than a business meeting, but that was how Lorenz seemed to prefer it.

"Happy birthday, I hope this suffices." Soren set the small arrangement of flowers, mostly Gloucester roses, on the table. It suited the gardens far better than it did Soren's bedroom. "You had some kind of future arrangements in mind for our skillsets?"

Julian bounded around the table legs as Soren sat down. The puppy eagerly sniffed everything, like trace amounts of crumbs on the ground. Soren gave himself permission to tune out the dog for about ten seconds, which was ten seconds too long. Ultimately, the most interesting thing at the table was Lorenz, and the puppy sniffed at his boot and then began chewing on the cuff of his pant leg, tail wagging with joy.

"Julian. Drop it." Soren sighed. "Julian, come here." He looked at Lorenz. "Apologies, he's only four months old."

[beyond-the-mirror]

The Blue Eyed King’s Gift

Oof! After an eternity incredibly long time I’m finally back to writing! This one will be a three part fic to accompany the Fairy Tale AU one I wrote with Dante x Fem!Reader.

Can you guess which tale I got inspiration for this fic? I won’t include it in the tags for now, but as the story progresses you will start to get the idea of which tale it is.

Warnings: Slight violence against children. Don’t worry, it’s nothing too serious.

Story under the cut.

IMPORTANT EDIT: I decided to make this a four-part fic rather than a three-part, mostly because I realized that the second part may be a little too long to be included in just one chapter.

Part Two - Part Three - Part Four

............................. 

Part One

"(Y/N)!! Where the fuck is my breakfast?!!"

Your father yelled from his bed chambers in such a loud volume you swore the entire house trembled in fear at his wrath. Letting out a defeated sigh, you hurried up placing all the served plates and the warm teapot on the tray before heading upstairs.

Life hadn't been easy at all for you, especially these recent years. Ever since you had memory, your father has been a cruel man to both you and your poor mother, the only reason she had ended up marrying him was because of an arrangement both their families had agreed upon. He was the sole heir of his family's fortune, but needed to marry a woman in order to keep their status unblemished. Eventually your grandparents passed away and your parents received the inheritance, the only problem they didn't take into account was their son's unmeasurable greed and hedonism. Soon enough, your father had wasted pretty much all your fortune in alcohol, unsuccessful business deals and gambling, reducing all your family's possessions to merely a modest but still pretty chateau in the countryside and a few valuables.

You still cried at the memory of your mother wilting away on her bed due to a most terrible illness, the medicines she needed to recover were far too expensive, not that the price mattered much since your father wouldn’t even bother to pay for them anyways had they been any cheaper. Alcohol and gambling were far more important for the man than his dying wife.

"Finally! I swear you're doing this on purpose." Your father scowled from his bed as you placed the food tray on his bedside table. "Do you wish for your own father to starve to death? Talk about an ungrateful child. Get out of my sight already!"

You only resigned to silently nod before leaving, the harsh words from your father never failed to hurt you deeply, cutting down your heart so much you weren't able to mutter a single word to him.

A few tears threatened to escape, but you forced them down. A new day full of possibilities was right before you, so you wasted no time in collecting some of the many fruits and vegetables you grew by yourself in your own garden. This year had brought an exceptional harvest, your crops would certainly make a great profit at the town's market.

Unlike your father, the townspeople respected you and treated you with utmost kindness. Often would they offer their help knowing your situation, something that you would forever be grateful for. You promised to yourself that one day, shall your economy ever recover that is, you would repay them to the last penny for their unwavering support.

After another successful day at the town market you decided to return home, all your produce sold out and now replaced by a small satchel of silver coins, some of them spent in meat, spices and bread for cooking meals at home.

It was a simple life, but you were happy with what little you had. Now if only your father weren't so cruel and abusive...

.............................

"C'mon V! Let's explore over here!"

You were in the kitchen when a soft giddy voice in the distance caught your attention.

"Wait Nero! I don't think it's a good idea to stray further. What if Father becomes worried?" A second voice answered back.

Peering out the window, you noticed two little children playing not too far from your chateau's front yard. Both had pristine white hair, one of them seemed to carry a black kitten in his arms while a blue bird was perched on his shoulder. It was a rather endearing sight and an odd one too since they weren't familiar to you at all, not many people lived in the countryside area you resided in. Perhaps a family recently moved nearby without you noticing.

"Don't worry V, after all he sent Griffon and Shadow here to look after us. Look brother," One of them pointed at your residence with the small wooden sword in his hands. "I found a tiny castle!"

"Whoa, what a lovely house! Do you think a tiny princess lives there too?" The other brother pointed out. You couldn't help but giggle at their adorable antics as they approached your yard.

Reaching for some of the pastries you had bought earlier, you decided to grab a few to give to the brothers. You were about to reach for the back door when-

"GET OUT OF MY PROPERTY YOU BRATS!!"

As soon as you stepped out, you witnessed your father in a very drunken state harassing the poor children. "I SAID GET LOST NOW!!!"

You watched in absolute horror how he harshly grabbed one of the kids by his arm before throwing him to the ground, prompting his brother to wield his toy sword in an attempt to defend him, but ultimately failing as he was backhanded so roughly he too fell to the ground.

"NO! FATHER STOP!" You immediately sprinted to them, basically throwing yourself over harm's way as you shielded the children, pulling them away from your father's relentless attacks. Even the black cat and the blue bird that accompanied the kids had started attacking him, effectively helping you keeping the man at bay as you hugged the kids protectively.

"Damn animals, GET AWAY FROM ME!" The man struggled and flailed against the bird and the cat, missing every strike as he was too drunk and unfocused for their agility.

"Please father, you're completely inebriated and you will only hurt yourself and others. Just go back to the house, please?" You implored doing, your best to calm him down until he finally relented.

"Fine. Food better be ready soon though or you're sleeping outside tonight." His words came out slurred as he stumbled back inside.

Letting out a sigh of relief, you turned to the young twins in your arms, kneeling down before them to check for any wounds they may have gotten. The poor little ones were crying, a few bruises and cuts on their knees and faces.

"It's okay little ones, the bad man is already gone." Gently wiping their tears away, you comforted them until they calmed down. "Are you alright?"

"I-I think so... How about you V?"

"I... I’m fine. That man was so scary though."

A sigh of relief escaped you as you determined all the wounds were minor and merely superficial, nothing you couldn’t handle quickly.

"I'm truly sorry for what happened. Please come inside, let's get your wounds treated."

.............................

“Much better now, isn’t it?”

It didn’t take long for you to finish cleaning and disinfecting the boys’ wounds. Luckily yout homemade medicinal balm was already working wonders, their skin already healing considerably.

“Here! A gift for being the bravest boys in the world.” You handed each one the pastries from before. The brothers’ eyes began sparkling at the sweet treats before them, they didn’t hesitate for a second before grabbing them and taking a bite.

“Thank you so much lady (Y/N)! These are so delicious!” they happily ate their pastries, even sharing a bit for their company animals too.

“I’m glad you like them. And you don’t need to call me lady by the way, just (Y/N) is fine. May I know your names too?”

“I’m Nero!” The twin with short hair and blue eyes answered.

“My name is Vitale, or V if you prefer.” The twin with shoulder-length hair and green eyes replied. “Oh! And these are our friends Griffon and Shadow!” V hugged Shadow close to his chest while Griffon perched himself on Nero’s shoulder.

“A pleasure meeting you four! Does your family live nearby by the way?”

Nero nodded as he kept chewing on his pastry. “Our house is just north from here actually, but Papa doesn’t let us go out often.”

Oh?

“And why is that?”

“Well...” V started, looking a bit down. “Father is very protective of us, that’s why he only lets us play outside as long as we stay close to the house. But today we tried convincing him to let us go explore a little bit farther, it was difficult but he finally agreed as long as we promised we would be alright...”

“I really hope he doesn’t get mad at us after he finds out what happened.” Nero added worryingly. Their saddened eyes really plucked at your heartstrings.

You knelt down so you could look at them in the eyes. “Don’t worry my children. How about I write a note to your father explaining the situation? I’m not sure if this would help much, but at least he would know he has my word that no harm will come to you. And if that doesn’t work, I could always go and meet him personally to get to an agreement.”

“You would really do that for us?” They looked at you expectantly, and when you nodded your answer, their faces lit up in so much joy that they unexpectedly enveloped you in a hug. You chuckled before wrapping your arms around them, returning the hug.

.............................

Since the brothers wanted to continue playing, you allowed the children to stay for a few more hours while you finished cooking. You let them keep playing in your garden, a place where you knew your father wouldn’t spot them and risk another scene like the one before.

Politely excusing yourself to your little guests before leaving to deliver your father’s meal. Luckily this time he received his food without saying much of a word, a very welcomed improvement from this morning’s rant.

As you returned to your guests, you noticed they were looking at you in concern.

“(Y/N), is that man really... your father?

“Yes, he is. Why the question?”

The glanced at each other briefly before V continued “Why did he treat you like that? I thought fathers were supposed to love their daughters...”

To say the question took you a bit by surprise would have been a underestimation. You simply sat down at one of the wooden benches, not knowing exactly what to say.

The brothers sat down next to you, each one by your sides.

You fumbled with your words, tears already pricking your eyes before you managed to control them.

“I know he is not exactly a good man, he made many mistakes in the past that cost our family so much… But, despite everything, he is still my father. Maybe I’m wrong, but I want to think he still has a good heart deep inside. That’s why I can’t give up on him. I stay with him in hope that one day he would finally change for the better.”

You forced a smile so you wouldn’t make the children worry anymore about you, and yet they managed to see through your façade. Their little arms wrapped around your waist and hugged you, an attempt to give you some comfort for the pain you were going through daily.

A warmth unlike no other enveloped your entire self, maybe it was cuteness of the situation or the great empathy of this wonderful children felt for you, but it felt so soothing how peace seemed to overtake you at the moment.

It was strange, yet so familiar. Like a distant memory of better days gone by.

.............................

The sun was about to set in a few hours, so you decided it was time for the children to head back home before it became dark.

As you had promised the brothers, you wrote a note for their father apologizing for the incident that happened and gave it to Nero. You also packed a few slices of fruit in a pouch for them to snack on during their trip back home.

“Um (Y/N)... can we come to your house to play again some time?” V asked in a shy voice. Both he and Nero had so much fun playing and staying with you, for them it felt that they had genuinely met a new friend that day.

“Of course little ones. You can come here and play whenever you want, as long as your father agrees to.” You ruffled their pretty little heads, making the brothers giggle.

“We promise to visit as often as we can! Right V?”

The younger one nodded his head enthusiastically.

And so, Nero and V departed. It was odd, how the chateau felt a hundred times emptier without them despite just meeting them earlier.

They were both so sweet and innocent, you just hoped their father wouldn’t get angry after reading your short letter. It would be a shame if the boys got punished for something that wasn’t their fault.

Going back into the kitchen, you cleaned a bit before tending to the plants at your garden, wondering if your new friends would soon brighten your day again with their presence

.............................

At the throne of a majestic palace, an all-seeing orb conjured at his hand, a demon king watched over his two sons.

The day they were born, he vowed to The Creator above that he would always protect them, even if that meant giving up his own life, he would gladly pay the price if it guaranteed they would keep living theirs in peace.

His kingdom may not be a vast one, completely isolated from others, but the land was prosperous and peace reigned over everyone. The king knew his sons would grow safe and sound behind the powerful barrier that surrounded the kingdom, but he couldn’t help a small seed of doubt that gnawed at his chest.

He feared for the day curiosity would awake in the hearts of his twins. They would want to know everything about the outside world, their innocent minds not knowing how cruel and dangerous it could be. The king often taught them of the outside world through the many books and scripts in the royal library, but he was afraid that would not be enough for his children.

So when that morning they had insisted of going beyond the barrier, no matter how much he had prepared himself mentally for this moment, his heart still ached with worry.

But he wouldn’t take their freedom away. Doing so is one of the most horrifying acts one could bestow upon another.

So the king allowed them to venture beyond their home. He had to let them fly, not clip their beautiful wings.

However, as much as he wanted to trust his sons, his concerns were bigger. He tasked two servants to keep them company, knowing that their eyes would keep guard on them. Using his demonic power, he summoned an oracle that would let him watch over them from his throne.

He watched as they approached a small chateau outside the forest, they were happy and playing along the way which brought a smile to his usually stoic face.

That contentment was gone in an instant.

A drunk man stepped out of the house and attacked his sons, scaring them and making them cry.

The king immediately stood from his throne, his fists tightly clenched as his eyes filled with immeasurable wrath and ire. He was about to unsheath his own sword to open a portal and go there, ready to end the miserable man’s life, when another figure ran into the scene. A woman who shielded his sons from the attacking man.

And when he finally managed to look at her face, he froze, almost dropping the sword in his hand.

For she looked exactly like-

… No. It couldn’t be her.

And yet there was a tenderness in the way she treated them. The way her soft hands cleaned the boys’ tears and kindly healed their wounds. The way she offered them a few pastries with a sweet smile in her face and warm light in her eyes. It was rather endearing, how this woman gained his sons’ trust in just a few minutes.

Releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding, the king sat down at the throne once again, attentive to what the oracle revealed to his eyes.

Maybe the outside world wasn’t so dangerous after all.

[whiterosebrian]

Letter to President Joe Biden

First and foremost, I simply wrote this letter to add my own bit of pressure, however small it might be, on a mainstream politician to go beyond business as usual within a liberal-democratic state. I did consider posting this to my webpages, but I was also aware that doing so could come off as performative—or legitimize right-wing sneers at “virtue-signaling”. Ultimately, I decided to go ahead and do so for two reasons. First, I wanted to publicly stand with indigenous peoples. Second, I wanted to offer a template for other people to write similar letters to President Biden. The letter that I will mail as a hard-copy is as follows.

Mister President,

I congratulate you on your election as President of the United States of America. In light of an attempted coup, I also congratulate you on a successful inauguration. I for one voted for you in hopes of preventing a potential neo-Confederate fascist dictatorship from taking hold and endangering even more lives. I for one also have openly talked on social media about the need to address deeper issues than a wannabe strongman. Donald Trump’s administration was simply a symptom of a very bad system. That system is a system of putting profits over people and environment.

I understand that you passed an order stopping the construction of a particularly controversial pipeline. That is a step in the right direction—but nothing more. I understand that other pipelines have still been approved. I understand that they will cut through the lands of indigenous communities and potentially wreck their environments.

Particularly since I’m not indigenous, I know that writing about indigenous spirituality risks falling into the stereotype of the Magical Indian. I will still write about what is evidently common across the spiritualities of indigenous peoples. That should provide further context for the need to protect their lands. Furthermore, I follow a number of indigenous activists, artists, and spiritualists on social media from different nations, so I am confident that I have at least a decent grasp on generalized indigenous spirituality.

Many indigenous peoples have animistic beliefs—to simplify, they view their world as teeming with spirits, often embodied in the land itself. Indeed, the land itself is seen as a precious gift from the Earth, with some sites being especially sacred. The most prominent example is Six Grandfathers; Lakota have objected to carving big fat heads on it and want it back. I bring up animism to point out wisdom which indigenous activists are more than eager to share (even if they keep their specific religious practices to themselves to protect their cultures in the face of attempted extermination and ignorant appropriation). They want all of us to regain respect and even honor for the lands on which we live so that all of Earth’s denizens can live.

More than once I have seen a figure cited on the internet regarding indigenous peoples and biodiversity. Indigenous peoples make up a very small percentage of the total population of the world. However, the vast majority of the world’s biodiversity is in their hands. That in itself should be a compelling reason to cooperate closely with indigenous people. They know their lands more deeply than the settlers. They know the cycles of life and processes of life and intricacies of life very deeply as well. Their cultures, which have been imperiled by imperialism past and present, are tied to their lands. Upholding indigenous rights goes hand-in-hand with protecting the environment.

Furthermore, you should recall that indigenous voters were crucial to your electoral victory. They knew that an extended Trump administration could possibly be an existential threat. They put themselves through trials almost as harsh as Black voters who navigated the various means of voter suppression. They expect you to help them.

Allow me to offer an aside. Since you clearly take right-wing extremism far more seriously than the previous president (which may be an understatement in regards to him), you may have heard fleeting references to racist neo-pagans who call themselves Odinists or something similar. They claim a spirituality of upholding their twisted vision of the natural order. I myself am a neo-pagan who opposes the likes of Odinists. I don’t want to make this letter about me—I mention that to further contextualize where this letter is coming from. Traditional spiritualities around the world place a stress on reverence for nature and see divinity and mysticism within it—such is evident even in dead religions that have only recently begun to come back to life. Addressing the white-nationalist appropriation of pre-Christian spiritualities is far beyond the scope of this letter. For now, I’ll simply mention the many neo-pagans who venerate nature and want to care for it even as they reject fascism.

You have stated intentions of working with progressives on the Green New Deal, or massively transitioning from fossil fuels to solar and wind energy. That in itself may be a worthy cause, as climate change is the most pressing environmental problem. However, that transition needs to be handled carefully. The process of mining for materials to build a new energy infrastructure could severely damage the lands where such mining takes place and displace their peoples.

I can accept that railing against “big government” is too often a smokescreen for a callously pro-corporate agenda. I do know that there is a place for “big government” in protecting people. That’s the thing—government should serve people on the ground, not corporations. Corporations are willing to do whatever they think will enhance their bottom lines. Corporations can very easily capitalize on a Green New Deal to fatten their profits as much as possible when that becomes feasible. Yes, I know that rightists will cynically (and lazily) ape anti-corporate rhetoric when companies promote anything and everything remotely liberal, but the danger of relying on corporations remains.

Many activists desire to rebuild their communities to be more livable, more inclusive, and in greater harmony with nature. The government should enable them to do so. Infrastructures should serve human living, not the other way around. Humans are not meant to be ripped apart from plants, animals, and landscapes, but rather relations should be repaired. Doing so will require massive reviews of economics, industry, urban planning, and government. That task is far beyond any one well-intentioned governing body.

Progressives voted for you reluctantly because they consider you a garden-variety politician serving capitalistic and colonial interests. I challenge you to prove them wrong. I urge you to do more than just return to a liberal-democratic normalcy (which is understandable after Trump and his fellow-travelers destabilized a liberal democratic state). I urge you to pay closer attention to the original inhabitants of Turtle Island. They cry out for restorative justice. They warn of the dangers of business as usual under the dominant system, which is unsustainable. They invite all of us to reconcile with them and the Earth itself.

No, I dare not pretend to have solid proposals. That is something for you to figure out in direct collaboration with indigenous activists. I am simply a common man on the street trying to make myself helpful to vulnerable people and the environment. I hope that I am doing my part by pointing you to indigenous activists, their lands, their pains, their spiritualities, their voices, and their desire to see the whole Earth thrive.

[asheelnair]

PERSONAL BLOG :-)

 Asheel Nair (Me18b101)

Course - MS4100 ( Soft skills)

First of all thanks Viji Ma'am to teach this wonderful course and making me understand and help me to grow and realize my skills that will help me personally as well as in professional growth.

1)   Meaning and Purpose 

 It was a very great session to attend as it gave a lot of insights about life and insisted us to find our true worth and value of life in this world.

There is a statement which touched me very much- “Ultimately, man should not ask what the meaning of his life is, but rather must recognize that it is he who is asked. In a word, each man is questioned by life; and he can only answer to life by answering for his own life; to life he can only respond by being responsible.”

We are all hungry for meaning, for purpose, for the feeling that our life is worth more than the sum of its parts. We can find meaning in the sublime, in the absurd, in the dull and dreary, and in the perfectly wretched in life. That's when Viji came up with the word 'ikigai'- Combining the Japanese words iki, meaning life and gai, meaning value or worth, ikigai is essentially about finding your purpose in life.  for exampe- Ikigai means “the reason you wake up for in the morning”

Then Viji told us to write our purpose of life in our book :-

What i love most- Video Games, family, friends, dogs

What i am good at - Maintaining relations, consulting

What can i get paid for - Consulting job or maybe some unexplored fields(who knows xD)

what the world needs- world is selfish and everyone wants profit in each and everything they do, the current world needs humanity and needs to develop a sense of empathy and helping nature.

Always know your true worth and realize it because it is only you know your true worth and value and always be grateful for who you are.

2) The '5S' principle 

:- It was the first time i came across this principle and trust me it was worth it :)

What are the 5 principles of 5S?

 5S stands for the 5 steps of this methodology: Sort, Set in Order, Shine, Standardize, Sustain. 

5S is designed to decrease waste while optimizing productivity through maintaining an orderly workplace which will help you bring positive thinking and productive solution.

Application - I applied this principle in my room which was dirty and messes up. I cleaned everything and kept everything in a proper way. After implying this principle it felt very comforting and nice.

3) Time-Management 

 It is one of the crucial factors to live a peaceful life without any tension and stress. The person who has time management skills are very calm and comforting and always live a peaceful life. Everyone has the same 24 hours, however, some make better use of their time than others. This is one of the reasons why we have people who excel at the things they do. In other words, people may become busy; but that necessarily does not mean they are effective at their task. Hence, time management plays a crucial role in personal and professional life.

 Time management may be a conscious effort to spend a selected amount of your time to perform a task efficiently . Furthermore, productivity is the key focus here. The more productive the work, the higher are the results. Moreover, time management requires a careful balancing between business life , social life, the other hobbies or activities. From an academic perspective, time management is a necessity. Students have many subjects to hide , therefore, efficiently managing time is a crucial skill.

The main problem we all face is the lack of time. Having so many things to do and yet not enough time to do them all. Through my conversations with many, I realized that I was not the only one facing this issue. This was when I realized sharpening my activity management skills becomes important. Though many people may call it ‘time management, I believe activity management is a better term because we can’t manage time but we can manage our activities each day. The reality is many people drift through life and allow themselves to be carried by the waves. We all have a choice to take control of our activities and reach our fullest potential. 

so use your time wisely by sorting important things first by realizing the importance of time in your life and seeing the benefits of time management.

As it is said " Time and Tide wait for none" , make sure you make each and every second count and create a change for a greater tomorrow.

I even talked with few people who I believe is very efficient in time management and asked them their secret mantra :P , example - My friend :-

– All good things take time and so does your goal, some achieve goals faster while some take their time.  You need to be vocal and loud about your goal, aim and thoughts. Always have a positive mindset and be ready to face any challenges thrown at your goals. You should always be open minded and appreciate every small thing that makes you reach your goal. She thinks that the importance of setting goals comes with maturity and responsibility and you need to figure out what things comes first in your life.

4) Strength based Learning - All the above factors can be included while finding about our personal strength based learning. sit down for few minutes and think about your strengths and weaknesses. For me-Strengths-based learning involves a process of assessing which helps us to identify our greatest talents, and to then develop and apply strengths based on those talents in the process of learning, intellectual development, and academic achievement to levels of personal and professional excellence.

As it is said " champions are not born they are trained and nourished with care to become a champion", Skills do not naturally exist within us; they must be acquired through training and practice. The concept of strengths is based in each individual’s unique nature and building upon what he or she naturally does best. Takeaway-After this session  I realized I have strengths with which I can create a change for better tomorrow and life is too long to explore, learn and develop. I would always like to explore my strengths and work on it and inspire others to play on their strengths. Thanks Viji for this wonderful session :)

5) Communication  

It is something because of which I faced conflicts in past, For me -signaling benevolence in communication seems vital than harsh-naked truth as it can sometimes product in fright, strain or spite in developing long-lasting relationships with family or at workplace. Blunt honesty can sometimes be rebellious whereas benevolence aids in handling difficult situations ethically by breeding trust and in boosting one’s morale. It enables one to be mindful of consequences and frame things in a way that is different from complete unvarnished truth- which in turn fosters relationships and other developments.

Thanks to Abha ma'am and Viji ma'am to take up this session and making it a wonderful experience. Salute to both of you for your professionalism and are dedicated to your work, was truly amazed to see this.

Presentation- The three 's' -structure, style and substance were covered in this. There were many other factors that were taught which helped me to learn, incorporate those and make my skills even stronger. Learned a lot on how to communicate, make a presentation and how to present yourself in front of people, all thanks to Abha ma'am.

Assertive Communication - Assertiveness means expressing your point of view in a way that is clear and direct, while still respecting others. Communicating in an assertive manner can help you to: minimize conflict. The 3 C's Of Assertive Communication are Confidence – you believe in your ability to handle a situation. Clear – the message you have is clear and easy to understand. Controlled – you deliver information in a calm and controlled manner. Passive communication and behavior involves allowing your own rights to be violated by failing to express honest feelings, thoughts, and beliefs, or by expressing your thoughts and feelings in an apologetic manner that others can easily disregard.

Few steps for assertive communication :

1.Tell the person what you think about their behavior without accusing them. 

2. Tell them how you feel when they behave a certain way. 

3. Tell them how their behavior affects you and your relationship with them. 

4. Tell them what you would prefer them to do instead.  

6) Self Realization

This was a very good session and topic. During the first 5 min we were told to take out a mirror or front camera and look yourself in it for few minutes and write down whatever comes into your mind. when i saw myself i could see that there is a fire burning within myself that want's to achieve each and every goal, I realized i will soon conquer each and every challenges in my way and make my parents and myself proud.

 Then we came on the topic of 

 Body shaming :

   It is something that i feel is cheap and very immature. Without knowing what the other person is going through people criticize them and laugh at them. Individuals with a history of trauma, depression, self-harm, low self-esteem, or borderline personality disorder are more likely to be affected by body shaming and potentially develop an eating disorder or engage in self-harm behavior.

 Empowerment doesn’t just refer to professional success and financial stability but also the overall personality development of an individual. Empowering yourself requires you to confront your problems but not bow down to them. It involves you being open to changing your views based on your own personal experience. Hence, if you’re not changing and sticking to what you’ve been told by society, you’re keeping yourself away from empowerment.

 When it comes to our views, we have plenty of them pertaining to our own selves. A majority of them are concerned with how we look. From television to magazine, most women have grown up being told that the perfect girl is slim, fair, humble, docile and quiet.

But, what about those women who are plus-sized, have a deformity, have too many tattoos or are too outspoken? The society might not find them palatable enough to call them perfect but who gave society that right, anyway? The only person who gets to decide is you. You need to shed societal expectations and accept every bit of yourself.

Takeaway - Don't live by fearing of someone's judgement, Everyone has a beautiful body on this planet, all are different that is the beauty of this world. "Embrace it don't hide it"

Snake and Ladder in our life :-

Ladder here refers to all the supports in your life who encourage you to achieve something great in your life while snake refers to all the challenges that is stopping you to achieve your goals.

Ladder and goals - 

 Family, friends and dear ones

Get into a dream company that recognizes my     talent and reach a good position where one day i can become a leader

Want to buy a luxurious home to my parents and     want to give them everything whatever they ask for

Buy a dream car

Building shelter homes for animals

Do something for orphans and rural people

Reach at a height where i become a role model     for few

Build a dream  PC gaming set-up, xD 

Want to travel the world (each and every     corner)

Want to learn calisthenics

And many more.............  :P

 Snakes -

Negative people

Procrastination. “I will do it later” is often     equivalent to “I will never do it,” though that is never the real     intention behind procrastinating something

Fear of Failure

Ignorance

Lack of Purpose

Lack of Courage

Fault Finding

Lack of Self-belief             Takeaway -

[canchewread]

Editor's note: this journal is original content (written by myself, of course) and has not appeared elsewhere online before today. I should also note that because this is both an opinion piece and an informal journal, my level of commitment to providing citations for the disingenuous wasn't particularly high; if you're looking for formally documented evidence that we're currently in the middle of a fascist takeover, I encourage you to check out my academic writing about the subject on ninaillingworth.com instead.

Journal 09/09/2020: Looking the Beast in the Eye

When I originally sat down to pen this journal, my intention was to call it something along the lines of “advice to a young leftist” which is probably in no small part, the reason why it's taken me three days to write this piece. This is because unfortunately I do not have very much good advice for a young leftist today in two-thousand and twenty, or at least much advice that isn't going to sound rather a lot like “quit before what you believe destroys your entire life.”

As I've written (extensively) elsewhere, we're in the middle of a fascist takeover that is more or less succeeding across the entire Pig Empire, and what passes for the liberal (read: capitalist) establishment in our respective nations seem quite content to try and appease the beast by feeding them the entire left and any marginalized group “uppity” enough to demand justice, equality or representation. There is not a lot of upside to being an open leftist right now and understanding what I know about both the history of fascism and the history of reactionary crackdowns in America, it's awful hard for me in good conscience to advise any young person to willingly subject themselves to the tender mercies of an uncaring state and its fascist cutout vigilante groups.

Let's talk a little bit about what that history, including very recent history, can tell us and why what it tells us isn't very good for the American left. Here in particular, we as both a class in American society and a people that believe in a more equal, compassionate and humane way of life, stand at the intersection of state power, class oppression and the homicidal revenge fantasies of a fascist political order that has seized power throughout much of the United States. The fact that this is not understood by our milquetoast Dem Soc allies and the bougie “progressive left” is completely irrelevant; as any Ferguson activist (who is still breathing) can tell you COINTELPRO never ended, performative liberal anti-racism stops well short of opposing police repression, and genteel society will respond to violent reprisals against activists by the reactionary right with either dead silence or some mild clucks of disapproval at best.

Are the liberals aware that when the increasingly fascist American right says “the left” they mean liberals and suburbanite Democrats too? On some level I'm sure they are, but clearly the threat of increased taxation and social programs for the poor terrifies them far more than the possibility fascism will progress to the point that they're next in front of the firing squad – I've been told the liberals of Weimar Germany felt much the same way during Hitler's rise; which merely demonstrates that the liberal capacity for coddling fascism if it's profitable knows few limits. Furthermore the nauseating truth is that many of your misguided and misinformed liberal allies in the working class simply don't understand that the fascist right always seeks to eliminate the militant left first simply because those are the people who're going to fight back when you start loading Muslims, Latinos and lanyard Democrats onto cattle cars.

This historical process of fascism of course intertwines with the American establishment's history of ruthlessly repressing, criminalizing and even murdering the left. As I detailed extensively in a prior essay called “The Inversion Perversion” the state's war against Americans who want a more equal society (in any number of ways) predates the rise of Nazi Germany, the American Civil War and as those who've studied colonial America might argue, even the foundation of the country. Between the mass deportations of anarchists, suppression of left wing literature through the mail, two Red Scares, anticommunism, Hoover's COINTELPRO war against the civil rights movement, the black power movement and the American student left, or all the way up to the Obama Department of Justice's ruthless oppression of the Occupy, Ferguson and North Dakota Pipeline protests, I could easily spend this entire essay demonstrating that when it comes to persecuting, destroying and yes even murdering the left, there is a long and storied history of bipartisan consensus in America – I see no reason or evidence to suggest that has changed much in our modern times.

In other words history, even recent American history, says that this story ends in a jail cell or a shallow grave for some of the folks reading this journal right now and I don't know how to sugarcoat that for anyone, let alone a young person with their whole life (such as it is) ahead of them. The plain, god-awful truth is that the American right wants you dead, and the center-right American liberal establishment simply doesn't care, just as it has never cared, because they also want the left destroyed and fear sharing their ill-gotten wealth more than they fear fascism. Furthermore, this same elite “liberal” establishment is actively engaged in splitting the component parts of the current American uprising up into acceptable and non-acceptable targets; that's why Joe Biden keeps yammering about police funding, anarchists and “looters.” Democrats in particular are doing this even as fascist militia vigilantes are starting to execute antifascists and protesters in the street, might I add.

Did I mention that it's a really bad time to be an open leftist, or even just someone who passionately feels cracker murderpigs shouldn't get away with murder because some fascist gave them a badge? And yet of course therein also lies the rub; just as there is danger in resisting the imposition of a fascist order there is also danger in refusing to resist.

Turning once again to history, we know that the fascist creep isn't going to stop itself until well after it has killed millions of people and destroyed everything about our lives that contains any meaning whatsoever. The reactionary backlash will not stop with silencing, arresting and/or killing teenage anarchists, African Americans protesting against racialized police violence or Portland soccer moms who've had enough fascism for a lifetime. The fascist mindset and method of societal control dictates that there must always been more enemies both within and outside of the state who represent both an abomination that should be destroyed and a threat to everything good and pure in the national character. Right now, the waking dragon of American fascism has cast a laser-like focus on those brave few Americans who are willing to physically resist the transformation of the country from a corrupt Oligarchy to an overt fascist police-state with rigged elections. Once that enemy is crushed and defeated, the beast will turn its eye to others – unions, teachers, and yes even Democratic Party politicians who've always been friendly to the fascist capitalist billionaires running much of the reactionary American right today.

Whether you choose to fight, hide or run, it has become crystal-clear clear to me that we are all headed towards dark days in the very near future and the only variable left to be determined is which segments of the audience reading this will be thrown onto the pyre first. What we know today as “Western Society” is blindly crashing through the kinds of barriers people who desire peace, comfort and security simply don't breech without expecting violence, bloodshed and a whole lot of rain.

Perhaps in light of all this my advice to the young leftist should be to harden oneself for the torrential downpour of violence, repression and yes death that lies ahead, regardless of whether or not you choose to resist the fascist creep. Perhaps the best thing I can offer a young person staring directly into the eye of this beast is the assurance that it is not their fault, that nobody in history has ever asked to be born into the war against fascism and that ultimately the fascists cannot win because fascism is a death cult that will eventually eat itself and has done so every single time before this one. Perhaps all I really have to share with you is the hope that in the darkness and despair that lies ahead of us you will remember my words and know that no matter how much they repress, terrorize and torture us, fantasy cannot be reality, slavery cannot be freedom and life cannot be death.

And that I think is the handle and the comfort I can offer those of you reading this who’re young enough to have a future beyond the fascist order; I have no optimism to sell you but I can make one promise that may help carry you through the bowels of the hell we are all descending into after all. It might not amount to much yet, but I promise you there will always only be four lights; no matter how many of us they murder to try and “prove” otherwise. Do not give these maggots the satisfaction of seeing your fear; know that at least some of you reading this will eventually dance on their graves and take whatever comfort you are able to, in that inevitability.

Never forget - one way, or another, the future is left.

nina illingworth

Independent writer, critic and analyst with a left focus. Please help me fight corporate censorship by sharing my articles with your friends online!

You can find my work at ninaillingworth.com, Can’t You Read, Media Madness and my Patreon Blog

Updates available on Twitter, Mastodon and Facebook. Podcast at “No Fugazi” on Soundcloud.

Inquiries and requests to speak to the manager @ASNinaWrites

Chat with fellow readers online at Anarcho Nina Writes on Discord!

“It’s ok Willie; swing heil, swing heil…”

[verfahrensdoku01-blog]

Top ten Strategies for Taking care of Revenue Tax Audits

    Controlling a revenue and use tax audit can be a difficult method. There are specific ways and processes you need to look at in advance of the audit notification comes on your desk. Likewise, there are choices out there to you that can affect the end result of the audit. Ultimately, you will have alternatives to negotiate your assessment immediately after the ultimate audit evaluation is offered. This document is based on the fifty+ several years of expertise of our associates in managing sales and use tax audits in practically just about every state in the country. one. Count on an Audit One of the initial queries that may operate through your head is why your firm was selected for an audit. There are several reasons for a corporation to be identified but here are some of the more common: • Often jurisdictions will concentrate on specific industries for an audit. These industries commonly have new or complicated taxing regulations that end result in a superior likelihood of you generating a error together the way. Services industries or web companies are some examples of latest targets. • An audit of one of your customers could final result in the assessment of your invoices and a willpower that you might be not charging tax properly. The auditor will stick to the trail of breadcrumbs again to you. • A disgruntled personnel that understands you are not charging tax properly in a jurisdiction may possibly report you to a tip-line. • A random drive-by earlier 1 of your areas, or recognizing a shipping and delivery truck or employee at a trade demonstrate in their jurisdiction by an auditor could result in an audit. • However, occasionally audits are a final result of possibility. • Jurisdictions do talk with one particular a further which can guide to extra audits. At the time determined, you should anticipate a frequent audit cycle specifically if the preliminary audit findings have been beneficial to the jurisdiction. If you loved this write-up and you would certainly like to get even more info concerning Verfahrensdokumentation Anleitung kindly visit our internet site. two. Preserve Compliance Documentation Compliance documentation really should be managed in a vogue that is straightforward for an auditor to interpret. Numerous firms obtain them selves in an audit with out the appropriate documentation. When this happens, auditors will assume transactions to be taxable and in cases where you don't have suitable bill or product sales details, the auditor will make historic projections or an arbitrary evaluation of taxable gross sales. Documentation generally essential by an auditor to carry out a correct review contains the pursuing: • Gross sales tax accruals - Gross sales tax ought to be mentioned in your common ledger as a separate GL account quantity. • Invoices - Both equally from a gross sales standpoint and a buy standpoint. • Returns/credits - Be confident these are evidently recognized in your accounting process and correctly invoiced. • Exemption Certificates - Manage correct and complete exemption certificates for each exempt customer. • Lousy credit card debt - Most states enable a deduction for poor debts that have been written off for Federal revenue tax reasons. Once more, be absolutely sure this is plainly recognized/documented in your accounting procedure. • Miscellaneous adjustments - Any changes taken on your return need to have supporting documentation. Most organizations hold this documentation with a duplicate of the return filed. • Buyer use tax accruals - These should really tie to specific acquire invoices. • Summary experiences - Summary financials and tax reviews need to reconcile to the tax returns submitted. • Returns - All audits get started with a assessment of the income and use tax returns but most auditors will ask for income tax returns as effectively. Gross receipts really should reconcile concerning profits tax and product sales and use tax returns. 3. Evaluate Your Data When you've got been notified of an audit, you will want to assess your possess data and establish the place you have gaps. You ought to make each individual attempt to discover your exposure prior to the audit. For instance, you may identify that you do not have the correct exemption certificates on file. Figuring out this challenge proactively may well provide you the essential time to go back again to your consumers and safe the lacking certificates. Other publicity parts that are uncovered may possibly lead you to handle the audit in a unique style. For instance, if you discover a problem with your accounting method or a considerable gap in taxability steps during a unique period of time of time in the course of the audit statute, you will want to steer clear of sampling that interval(s) if probable. If the period of time is determined and reviewed in depth by the auditor, you may well be ready to isolate that period of time from any sample as an outlier. 4. Method Review/Outline It is always beneficial to offer an rationalization of your enterprise to the auditor. Be concise, but be specific in the way your organization operates. Be very careful about facility tours as these normally turn up publicity spots. In a facility tour, an auditor will see the interior workings of your warehouse or manufacturing amenities. They may well question thoughts about how a lot time a forklift spends going uncooked components from the obtaining dock to the original action in the producing method vs. how a great deal time it is utilised to move completed products in the warehouse. These two conditions can have diverse tax implications. five. Regulate the Relationship The auditor really should constantly be addressed with respect and dignity, just like any other business connection you have. Continue to keep in intellect that auditors do have discretion in their conclusions. Additionally, you are probably to deal with the exact same auditor in a subsequent audit. So preserving a great romance can pay back dividends in the long run. You need to align the auditor with just one person from your agency to manage all thoughts and information requests. In some conditions, an exterior guide can be handy to align with the auditor to control these queries and requests for details.  

[petalsmooth]

I’m a little different

I can’t say I really have this ambition to see any member of Riverdale reach rarified Hollywood air and be a film icon who headlines billion dollar franchises for decades. Even if I DID have that ambition most people will never climb that scale. I mentioned Robert Downey Jr. the other day because I remember when he made rom coms. I remember him on Ally McBeal. I remember when he went to jail. I haven’t been obsessively following his career but I liked a lot of what he filmed and ended up seeing it then with Marvel he exploded. I didn’t predict that back when making the film with Marisa Tomei. 

Guess what though? He didn’t get there by “dating up” or by slandering his costars in a jealous fit of competition. Not sure what some of this fandom (or a certain mother) think they are accomplishing by trying to make people hate Cole but that isn’t necessarily the way to get ahead in a career.

Hollywood moguls will work with difficult people if they make them money, but like anyone prefer they not be difficult and not bring drama. #1 consideration though is making money. If you want to climb ahead need to show YOU are a box office draw. 

People want honesty? Well maybe they don’t but I’ll give it to you. Cole has been working since he was a baby, In commercials, on Grace under Fire. Guest starred on several popular sitcoms. Featured with Adam Sandler. Featured on Friends which has gained a whole new audience. Featured on Disney for several year’s and interacted with several famous child stars during that time now stars in own fields. Now on Riverdale and was just featured on FFA which made a decent profit. You are fooling yourself if you believe he is not better known than anyone on cast. You are fooling yourself if you think association with him does not boost the notice of those with him. No, he is not as big as Robert Downey Jr (Robert wasn’t as big as he is when 27) but he IS well known especially with the 10-30 age demographic which advertisers covet. Ellen may not have immediately known him but Demi’s fanbase? They do. 

Aside from fame he grew up on the camera. His castmates? Not so much. It is not an insult to factually note he probably has given ALL of them tips on blocking, acting, modeling, handling press etc...Ted who doesn’t even like him admitted as much that Cole saves scenes untold by adjusting his presence on the set. There is a reason when something happens on set he becomes de facto spokesman and they let him. Almost 3 decades spent in Hollywood gives him experience they lack. Then note his connections in photography and fashion because HE is a photographer. You really think he’s never leant anyone help in learning how to pose? Yet if you say that it’s viewed as taking away another’s accomplishments. But tell me why it is insulting to note almost a 30 yr spanning career in which Cole studied and worked hard might benefit people he costars with, is friends with or even loves? Cole earned everything he has and sacrificed a childhood for it.

Now down to specifics. It is a fool’s errand to predict who will be big 5 years from now let alone 20 in Hollywood and I won’t do it. I’ve seen people like Megan Fox burst from sitcom to a star with Transformers only to fall abruptly (admittedly there were behind scenes politics in some of that). I’ve seen Jodie Foster on bit parts in tv to Disney star to movie star to working behind the scenes in production/direction. I watched Leo on Growing Pains to where he is now. I’ve seen Keanu Reeves be viewed somewhat as a joke in the industry despite success become a beloved respected star now. I’ve seen Adam Sandler have project after project panned by critics yet continues standing in the industry and actually get invited back to SNL and be allowed a monologue crushing them. Kristen Stewart was the next big thing...until she wasn’t. Now her costar who people had written off but quietly was building a nice resume with smaller projects is set to be Batman. Everyone’s career path is different and not predictable. Maybe your favorite will end up like Susan Sarandon, or Harrison Ford or Daniel Day Lewis or maybe tier below that or maybe maybe if lucky at least be a journeyman actor. Never huge but constant work streaming in. Whatever happens you personally are not going to make the difference. It comes down to talent, connections, luck and right career choices all colliding at the same time and you cannot orchestrate that by trying to smear Cole with anything you can throw at him. Cole is not the obstacle keeping your favorite from the A list.

Now this is quite long enough so may do another post about specific careers as I see it but suffice to say I’m tired of people thinking they can engineer what will happen with gossip when in this industry? Box office is what ultimately talks.

[the-bard-writes]

1 2 3

In the pale blue of the dawning sun, they strode past the post which marked the village as forsaken.

The raven-brother walked with strident tempo, his plague-staff beating into the ground every other step with finality. His boots struck hard into the hard soil, and the half-skirt around his waist fluttered around his legs like a banner with every step. Despite the many vials and bottles strapped to his waist and arms, all full of liquids both dark and clear, he made little noise aside from the beat of his stride.

The crow-sister matched his stride, and the two walked breast-to-breast. She was not so well-armored as her companion, for she only had a thick half-lorica of leather upon her chest, and vambraces upon her arms; her cloak’s hood was longer, and the cape larger, as it came to her knees and wrapped around her arms, so that one might, from the wrong angle, perhaps mistake her for a traveling maiden. Beneath the cape, however, the vials and grisly tools of her trade resting upon her belt atop her own half-skirt betrayed the truth of her character.

The mist of the morning hid their approach, but soon they could see the palisades of the settlement some yards ahead, and a watch-tower with vantage over the surrounding thin forest became visible. Both, with eyes hidden behind the goggles of their masks, could see clearly a man upon that tower, who did not notice them for another few seconds.

“Hail!” The watch-man shouted down upon seeing them. “Hail, travelers! Turn away! There is plague upon us here! The pest-post was up some ways before you there!”

The brother and the sister paused, and the brother turned to she who spoke for them.

“Hail, good minder of the tower,” she called up to him. Both siblings could see the shift in the watcher’s expression when he finally registered the garb of these newcomers. “We did see the pest-post, and had heard of some miasma come upon this place. We would render our services to your town, if they would furnish pay for it.”

“Merciful saints,” the watcher swore, “plague-birds, upon our town…!”

Neither sibling reacted to the term. They were used to such pejoratives.

“Shall we speak with the masters of this town,” the sister asked, “or shall we depart, and leave you to your fevers and shakes?”

The watch-man paused a moment. Both sister and brother knew that pause. The pause of a servant who knows their duty and yet still wonders if they should perhaps abandon it, answer to some higher moral calling, defy loyalty and follow their own will.

After the pause, the watch-man nodded, and went to strike a bell; it was a high-pitched ring, pleasant to the ear.

“We’ve a sheriff,” the watch-man said, “he’s already immunified to the disease, and so he’s taken charge of the place for our usual council’s sake, that they might reside in of doors and be safe of the miasma.”

“And this sheriff comes now to speak?” The sister asked.

“Ay, he does,” the watch-man told them. “He’ll decide what to make of you two.”

“Then we await his convenience,” the sister bowed courteously before turning to her brother and lowering her voice to a soft tone.

“What are the odds, do you think,” she asked him, “that this sheriff is actually immune?”

The brother stared at her a moment.

“Hm… true,” she nodded in agreement. “Not enough information yet. Have you formulated any hypotheses on the nature of the disease yet? The man who told of this place mentioned pox and bloodied eyes, which could mean either blood-shot or bleeding from the ocular orifices. If it’s the former then I think it’s drunkard’s boils. If it’s the latter, it’s most likely zirovula. I’ve never dealt with zirovula before, and I hope I don’t have to now, especially since I doubt these people could afford a fair price for treating such an outbreak.”

The brother stared at her, and cocked his head very slightly.

“Normally I’d agree,” the sister said, “but there’s been all sorts of strange patterns of late. Remember last year when we dealt with a stone-throat outbreak in the middle of the dry season?”

The brother nodded thoughtfully. Before they could continue their exchange, however, the watch-man called down to them.

“What’s it you’re conspiring about down there?” The man asked of them. With rehearsed patience, the sister addressed him.

“A professional discourse, good watcher,” she answered. “One comprised of trade-secrets outside our right to speak of loudly.”

“I’ve heard all sorts of things about your trade secrets, plague-birds,” the watchman spat. “Smelling plague on the air, like bloodhounds; and seeing miasma floating about. And that’s to say nothing of how your ilk operate!”

Before he could regale them with his own personal collection of half-truths, misunderstandings, and malicious lies regarding their Sodality and its orders, another climbed atop the tower, in a jerkin with a fashionable tricorn atop his head.

“Plague-birds, then, is it?” The newcomer asked. “That’s what I’ve been called for, eh?”

“Have we the pleasure of addressing the sheriff of this village?” The sister asked.

“If ‘pleasure’ is what you’d call it, miss, then yes,” The sheriff said, tipping his hat respectfully. “John’s the only name I’ve got for myself, what of you two?”

“You may call me Crow, if you wish, good sheriff,” the sister said, “and my companion may be called Raven, if he must be called anything.”

“Would he rather not be called anything?” The sheriff asked, looking to the brother.

“We forswear names as part of our vows, good sheriff,” the sister explained. “My brother takes to his vows more stringently than I.”

“And will he not speak for himself, then?” The sheriff asked, glancing at the sister with a bit of annoyance.

“Baring some change in his usual demeanor, good sheriff, I do not think so,” the sister patiently answered. “I speak for us both, such is the arrangement we prefer.”

“I suppose I’ll speak to you, then, Miss Crow,” the sheriff nodded, “and I’m supposing you’ve called me to speak of how much you’d like to take from us in exchange for your pokes, prods, and leeches.”

“We would like to begin the negotiation of payment,” the sister rephrased more diplomatically. “Though we cannot begin to name acceptable prices before we are allowed to examine the patients.”

“Nobody’s allowed in or out of the town, Miss Crow,” the sheriff stated plainly. “I’m looking to keep this miasma trapped here and spare our neighbors.”

“A noble cause, good sheriff,” the sister said, “but we are well-equipped to keep plague off our tails.”

“So you say, Miss Crow,” the sheriff crossed his arms. “But I know how miasmas work. I open the gates, and the foulness pours out. I’ll not allow it.”

The sister permitted herself the luxury of a very exhausted sigh.

“It is a common belief that miasma travels so quickly and easily,” the sister said, “but in truth, it would take more than a few moments of an open gate to spill disease out into the countryside.”

“So say they who would profit from it!” The sheriff spat. “I’ve got my respect for your profession, Miss Crow, I do; there are honorable folk among you that have got proper respect for the way of things, and I know you can do all sorts of stuff—sniff out plagues and see miasma like it was smoke. But I’ll dip my hat in bile before I endanger our neighbors and the whole of the country for the pockets of two wandering birds.”

The sister fidgeted with her hands subtly. Diplomacy was rapidly failing her. She looked to her companion for his thoughts. He stared at her, and she saw his grip on his plague-staff subtly tighten. She glanced at the traverse of the staff, the rod which crossed the main body of the staff from which rune-etched ribbons hung. Casting her eyes up, she saw the small pike-tip that extended from the top of the staff, and downwards, she acknowledged the ax-hook attached near the bottom. There were many uses for every part of the plague-staff, she knew, and many could, indeed, serve them here. Ultimately, however, she shook her head, and turned back to the sheriff.

“Good sheriff John,” the sister said, “if your concern is that we aim to be profiteers, despite our vows forbidding such a thing, then, if you will allow us in to your town, then, in good faith, we shall waive all fees and requests for payment for our services.”

“A pittance!” The sheriff said. “For you’ll release the plague and make all the pay you lose here, thrice over!”

“Permit us into town,” the sister said, “and we’ll not leave until the plague is disappeared from your streets.”

The sheriff considered this a moment, stroking his beard in thought, before smiling. The sister did not like the grin on his face.

“That’s an acceptable arrangement, I think,” the sheriff said. “I’ll have the gates opened a crack for you, Miss Crow, and your Raven there. You’ll enter and we’ll close it right away, and they’ll stay that way until anyone and everyone can walk in or out of them.”

The sister bowed. “We agree to these terms.”

The sheriff nodded, then turned and left from the watchtower. The sister turned to her brother, who stared at her behind his expressionless mask.

“Don’t give me that look,” she told him. “They need our help. The vows are clear on what to do.”

He kept staring at her.

“I know we should never accept less than what can be rightly asked for,” she defended, “but the service outweighs all.”

He kept staring at her. She finally shook her head and looked forward just as the gate was opening. The crack was so slim that she nearly couldn’t fit through it going forward, and her brother had to turn to his side to make his way through. Immediately, the gate was closed again, and the bar dropped behind them to seal it.

Looking around, she saw empty streets, and a deserted village market. The sun still had yet to rise, and somewhere, a rooster crowed. A man handling a wagon with a large tarpaulin blanket over it rolled by.

The sister stood there, turning inward, reaching outward, attuning her senses. She took a deep breath, taking in the air, and listened to the nerves thrumming in her skin for the subtle firings of trained instinct. Behind her goggles, her eyes searched for things that other eyes could not see. She remained in this state of awareness for only a few seconds, for that was all that was needed.

Finally, she turned to her brother. “Can you sense it?”

The brother shook his head. The sister nodded and turned forward again.

“Fascinating,” she whispered. “It will be interesting curing a plague that doesn’t seem to exist.”

[cycleelbow8]

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[atc74]

Baby & Lucille

Square(s) Filled: Escort AU for @spnaubingo, Embarrassing First Meet for @spnfluffbingo2019

Warnings: Bitchy reader (keep reading), Charming Escort!Dean, I don’t know...it’s fluffy and sweet

Summary: Dean accidentally spills his coffee on a complete stranger, but will he get a second chance to make a first impression?

Pairing: Dean x Reader 

Word Count: 1645

Written for: @spnfluffbingo2019 @spnaubingo 

Beta’d by: @just-another-busyfangirl, thank you for making me better

A/N: Inspired by this ask from @luci-in-trenchcoats: What if it's Coffee Shop AU but they do Embarrassing First Meeting for Fluff bingo as well (maybe erring more on the fluffy side of things)? Or Coffee Shop AU, they hit it off, but Dean knows he's supposed to end up in an arranged marriage with someone in the near future. He and reader still pursue each other but ultimately, they find out their arranged marriage is supposed to be with one another? I decided to skip the arranged marriage because these two just took me in a whole different direction. Hope you like it Michelle!

“Thank you,” Dean smiled at the barista, taking his morning Americano. He could get coffee at home, but it just wasn’t the same.

“You’re welcome,” the barista replied. “It’s always a pleasure to have you, Sir.”

“Please call me Dean, Alan. I’m just a man,” Dean argued.

“On the contrary, Sir. You are a gentleman and a scholar,” Alan countered.

Dean laughed, giving Alan a final wave. He turned to find a table when he ran into something. “Son of a b-!” His coffee went flying, the cup shattering on impact and his much needed drink splattering all over him and another patron.

“Look what you’ve done, you klutz!” the woman, now covered in his Americano, yelled.

“I’m so sorry. I should have been careful,” Dean apologized. He reached for a towel on the counter and began wiping down her expensive coat. It was nice. “Is this cashmere? I will pay for the dry cleaning.”

“Yes, it is cashmere, thank you for noticing. You have excellent observation skills for someone with no grace,” she chided. “Now, your number or a business card so that I can send you the bill?” She held out her hand, waiting.

“Oh, yeah, right,” Dean grabbed a pen from the counter and a napkin, writing down his number for her. “So sorry about this. Here you go…?”

“Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N. That’s the name that will be on the bill,” she snapped, ripping the napkin from his large hand.

“Duly noted, Miss Y/L/N. Again, sorry about the mess. Have a pleasant day.” Dean took a seat at the nearest table just as Alan brought him a fresh cup. He glanced in her direction as she waited for her own drink, not able to take his eyes off her. Normally Dean was very smooth in his daily life and especially with the ladies. Never had he met a women that made him flounder like he had, despite the embarrassing first meeting. Well, at least he hoped he would see her again.

He enjoyed the spectacular cup of java while he checked his emails. A few had come in over night about a new job. He flipped through the names on the list until he landed on one that he recognized. He read over the bio.

New to town, looking for a date for company gala. No funny business. I run a fortune 500 company and do not have time for shenanigans. Must be well read and spoken. Black tie. Pick up requested Friday at 6pm. Be prompt.

There was no please, no thank you, but Dean knew he couldn’t turn this one down. He met all the requirements, but there would definitely be shenanigans, if he had a say. His finger tapped the accept button. Dean finished his coffee and whistled his way out the door.

“He better be on time. I have to arrive early. I have to make a good impression. This has to go well. What if they don’t like me?” Y/N babbled as her assistant and best friend, Charlie, placed the finishing touches on her hair and make-up.

“Y/N, you have to relax. I am sure he will be on time. He is a professional after all. And just be yourself, well, maybe a more laid back version of yourself. You tend to be a bit high strung in social situations.” Charlie laughed as she moved the last pin into place. “Voila! What do you think?”

Y/N turned and faced the mirror, stunned at the woman staring back at her. “Charlie…” Her hand flew to her mouth.

“Yeah, I know. I’m amazing. But I can only work with what I have and you are a beautiful canvas to begin with, Y/N. Breathe. Everything will be fine,” Charlie assured her. “Now let’s get you dressed!”

Dean arrived ten minutes early, pulling in front of the newly finished luxury condo building. He put the car in park and was grateful that his brother had agreed to loan him his Mercedes for the night. By the sounds of it, Y/N had high standards and he didn’t think his Baby would measure up. Which is a shame, because Baby is all class, but some people just do not have an appreciation for the classics anymore.

He stepped out of Sam’s car and entered the building. Dean was greeted by small man whom he assumed was some type of concierge. “Sir, may I help you?”

“Yes, Y/N Y/L/N please,” he answered politely.

“And whom may I tell her is calling?” the man prompted.

“Her knight in shining armor.” Dean flashed the man his million dollar smile. The man simply nodded and placed the call.

A few minutes later she entered the lobby, dressed in a fitted black evening gown that flared at the waist. The neckline was high and modest, but he had never seen a woman look more stunning. She glided toward him her hand extended as her eyes met his face.

“You?” she scoffed, skeptical that her date for the evening was the same buffoon that had spilled coffee on her earlier in the week. “I think there has been some misunderstanding, Mr. Winchester.” She pulled out her phone to call the escort service when he stopped her.

“Miss Y/L/N, there is no mistake. I know our first meeting was a disaster, but the agency paired you with me for the evening. I promise to be on my best behavior. I meet all your requirements, I assure you,” he promised, extending his elbow to her. “Shall we?”

Y/N reluctantly slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, allowing him to lead her outside. “Nice car. Pretentious, but nice.”

Dean opened the door, taking her hand as she slid into the butter leather seats. He closed her door and walked to the driver side, settling himself behind the wheel. “Thanks, but it’s not mine. I borrowed it from my brother. I didn’t think my Baby would fit your standards.” He pressed the ignition and pulled out into traffic. “Where to, my lady?”

Y/N gave him the address and he swerved through traffic, adjusting his route. “What do you mean ‘fit my standards’?”

“You’re very well put together, Y/N, and I can appreciate that. You’re a no-nonsense business woman with goals. I am a daytime mechanic and moonlight as an escort, saving enough money to buy the shop I manage. I’m college educated but I come from simple roots. I’m a grease monkey by choice and my chariot is 1967 Chevrolet Impala. Her name is Baby,” Dean explained.  

“I admire your honesty, Dean. I may run a Fortune 500 but I was raised on a farm in Nebraska. I can lead a board meeting but I am not much for social functions. I prefer my ‘62 Chevy C10 pick-up. She gets terrible mileage but she was my dad’s and she’s all I’ve got left.” Y/N was quiet and gazed out the window as the city flew by.

“I’d like to meet her some time.” Dean looked over, his date quiet. “What’s her name?”

“Lucille. She’s a redhead.” Y/N giggled.

Her laughter rolled off the leather interior of Sam’s car and it was music to Dean’s ears. “So why the need for a date? You’re educated, successful and beautiful…”

“Men tend to be intimidated by all of those things. My last boyfriend couldn’t handle my success, told me I needed to slow down,” she confessed. “I told him to pack his shit. He got fired for sleeping with his assistant. I got a new job, a new condo and a fixer-upper in the country where I plan to retire.”

“You’ve got goals. I can respect that. What I can’t respect is a man who doesn’t think it’s okay for his partner to be more successful than him. Like me? I could be perfectly happy with a woman who has her shit together. I’ve got goals too, but I wouldn’t mind a sugar mama. Just sayin’!”

“Oh, is that all we are to you?” Y/N slapped him in the arm.

“Hell no! Women are strong as fuck. I’m just putting it out there that I spent the last thirty years taking care of my little brother. I would like find someone that doesn’t care if I am happier under a car than behind a desk. Success isn’t measured by board meetings or profits. It’s measured by happiness. I don’t live for dollars, I live for moments.” Dean turned his attention back to the road.

“And yet, you’re working two jobs,” she argued.

Dean thought for a minute before he acknowledged her. “Because my goal is to be my own boss so I can take the time to live those moments. Working for someone else doesn’t give the right kind of freedom, no matter the number of vacation days. Besides, I’ve already put in my notice. My loan application was approved and we close next week.”

“Congratulations!” She clapped excitedly for a man she didn’t even know. “I’m sorry for being bitchy at the coffee shop. I was really nervous about meeting my new employees and then the coffee and it-it was just a rough morning.”

“Thank you. But please don’t apologize. Let’s think of tonight as a fresh start.” Dean smiled over at her as he put the car in park. “I’m Dean Winchester.”

“Y/N Y/L/N.” She held out her hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N.” Dean took her hand in his and gently kissed her knuckles. “Let’s get through tonight and tomorrow, we’ll introduce our girls. I think Baby and Lucille could be great friends.”

“I look forward to that.” She smiled and for the first time in months looked forward to a day off.

Did you like it? The nicest thing you can do for a writer is reblog their work and tell them, and others, how much you like it!

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[makeste]

Oh right, I forgot to ask now that you finished the Yakuza/Overhaul arc but on a scale from Endeavor to All For One, where does Overhaul fit on the bad dad scale?

somehow this very simple ask which could have been answered in like three sentences turned into my definitive ranking of the top ten Known Dads in BnHA. I’m not sure how either. but here we go

(spoilers in this post up to chapter 165!)

10. Overhaul

dad score - [unknown] [the scale broke when we tried to measure him]

is asked to care for his boss’s granddaughter; proceeds to torture her for profit

constantly tells her that she’s cursed and all the bad things that he does are somehow her fault

doesn’t even bother to give this kid some fucking shoes

keeps killing her babysitters

I know I already said it, but it really can’t be stressed enough, this guy routinely disassembled her limbs on a molecular level, causing her excruciating pain and trauma, for the sake of trying to make himself the new drug-dealing kingpin of the underworld. he is sooo bad you guys

9. All for One

dad score - 11/100

is super creepy and manipulative and purposely brainwashed Tomura into hating All Might through a series of meticulously calculated encounters

decided the best way to help Tomura reach his full potential would be to step out of his life and get himself arrested

hasn’t even seen his other son, Izuku, since he was a baby! what a fucking deadbeat smdh

but on the other hand, he does seem supportive and indulgent towards Tomura and gives him lots of praise and encouragement

8. Endeavor

dad score - 39/100

abused his kid

abused his kid’s mom, in front of his kid

you wouldn’t even know it, but he actually has other kids, whom he never seems to acknowledge or pay even the slightest attention to whatsoever!

only had kids in the first place so he could raise his kids to beat All Might. has no problem telling this to said kids and even to All Might’s own face

having said that, the only reason his score isn’t in the negatives is because as of chapter 165, it seems like maybe? possibly? he just might be trying for the first time ever. or like. trying to try. if you can count showing up to Shouto’s supplemental course to shout “SHOOOOOOOOOOUUUUTOOOOOOOOO” at him from the stands as trying. but like, I feel like he is attempting to be encouraging. it doesn’t mean he’s not still a piece of shit, but if the guy is trying to be better then, like, it’s better than him not trying, you know?

but he’s still terrible

7. Kurogiri

dad score - 60/100

Tomura’s Actual Dad

is calm, rational, polite, and a respected doctor of medicine (probably) (idk you guys I just still get that vibe)

took Tomura and all the other kids on a character-building trip to Villain Island in an omake from chapter 149 which I consider to be canon

there’s nothing more dadlike than taking your kids camping and trying to teach them how to survive in the wilderness

taught Tomura how to get along with others

always seems to have his back, which is real important you guys

6. Gran Torino

dad score - 70/100

not the best score but a C is still respectable. mostly it’s just cuz he was out of the picture for so long. although we’ve since found out that Toshinori by his own admission had a habit of pushing away people who cared about him, so that may have had something to do with it

cares a lot about Toshinori even though he’s shit at showing it

made him into a man by beating the shit out of him until he got super strong

was right there in the thick of things with Toshinori during both of his fights against All for One. he straight up risked his life to back him up against the strongest villain alive

took it in stride when he found out he had a grandson that he’d never met, and took him under his wing as well and raised him for like three whole days and taught him how to use a microwave

5. Ochako’s Dad

dad score - 80/100

I probably should have given him a higher score, honestly. he seems really sweet. he’s probably a better dad than Bakugou’s Dad tbh, but Bakudad gets the edge just for the much steeper difficulty level. because let’s be honest, there’s a biiiig difference between raising a sweet baby angel like young Ochako, and raising a sentient roman candle with a potty mouth

but he works so hard to make ends meet, and somehow he and his wife managed to scrimp and save enough to send Ochako to U.A. because they wanted her to follow her dreams and they want the best for her

and they’ve always been so supportive of her on like the three occasions we’ve seen them in flashbacks or talking to her over the phone or visiting her after the sports festival

look at this thumbs up though

tell me that’s not the most dad thing you’ve ever seen in your fucking life

4. Bakugou’s Dad

dad score - 82/100

has like two lines in the entire series, but

as previously mentioned, raised Bakugou Katsuki and somehow survived to tell the tale. so honestly he probably deserves some kind of medal

also, since we know virtually nothing about him other than what was in the omake profile from volume 11, I’ve been imagining him as being kind of like Calvin’s Dad from Calvin and Hobbes

so he gets bonus points for that positive association

really there’s no reason for him to be this high up tbh except that I firmly believe he’s a great dad and I’m just waiting for canon to prove me right. I’ll be right here waiting, manga

3. RockLockRock

dad score - 90/100

he’s awesome

also, look. being a hero is inherently dangerous. you never know where you’re going to get called to next, and any mission could end up being your last. injuries and trauma go hand-in-hand with the job. most of the hero characters we’ve seen don’t have families, and I have to assume that’s not a coincidence. so to me, all of this means that if a hero character actually does go through with starting a family, it means they wanted that family more than anything, and you can bet they freaking love the shit out of said family. I have no doubt that RLR is and will continue to be an amazing dad

plus his kid is just too damn cute

2. Aizawa

dad score - 95/100

first of all, if this was a ranking of Hottest BnHA Dads, you better believe he’d be at the very top and it would be no contest

he has 20 kids and somehow he’s able to handle each and every one of them

risked his life to save the kids barely two weeks into the school year with no hesitation, even though he nearly died

did the same thing again barely two months later. this time thankfully without the nearly dying

has the total respect and trust of each and every kid in his class. and considering the personalities of some of them, that’s no small feat

specifically, it says a lot that even Bakugou doesn’t give him any lip and always listens to him without complaint and is even polite

speaking of Bakugou, he defended him to that Jerk Reporter during the Hideout Raid arc and proved that he understands his students better than anyone

isn’t afraid to deal out strict discipline when the situation calls for it, but it’s always for the students’ own good

isn’t above trolling the shit out of his kids on occasion when he feels like it

is good with kids of all ages and not just teenagers, as evidenced by how good he also was with Kouta during the forest invasion arc

lastly, as we saw in chapter 136, he has an untold repertoire of secret dad moves just waiting to be unleashed, such as (a) crouching down to a seated Deku’s eye level, and (b) gently punching him in the chest while affectionately calling him by a nickname. who knows what other moves this man has in reserve. I for one can’t wait to see more

1. All Might

dad score - 96/100

indisputable best dad. A+. although even he didn’t get a perfect score, because nobody is perfect and there’s always room for improvement

always knows exactly what to say. despite constantly seeming to stress about it. probably he only stresses because he cares so much and he’s worried about doing things exactly right

loving father to the two most difficult children in the whole series, Midoriya “which bones did you break this time” Izuku, and Bakugou “like I said, anyone who even attempts to parent this child automatically deserves a medal” Katsuki

this man literally got down on his hands and knees and begged Deku’s mom to let him try to be the Best Dad Ever to her child. he loves him so fucking much

gives THE best dad hugs

I need more All Might hugs

honorable mentions: 

Nighteye (I forgot about him until after I had already made the list and was too lazy to go back and insert him in his rightful place at number 3. 92/100. loses points for FUCKING DYING AND MAKING ME CRY)

Fat Gum (same deal as Nighteye in that I forgot about him. 75/100. he’s loving and jolly and gives out free candy, but he let Kirishima get all beat up. BE MORE CAREFUL NEXT TIME)

Vlad King (haven’t seen his dad skills in action much, but according to his profile he’s nicer to his kids than Aizawa is. okay but DID HE NEARLY MAKE THE ULTIMATE SACRIFICE FOR THEM though. because Aizawa did. 85/100)

Present Mic (not a dad. is at best a Weird Uncle. 70/100)

Jirou’s Dad (I forgot about him too lol. he’s a wacky dad who likes to rock and roll! he tried to be a Stern Dad to impress All Might and Aizawa but failed miserably. took his wife’s last name!! so secure in his own masculinity. wants his daughter to live her best life and follow her passions. 93/100. he’s fucking great)

[iris-writes-things]

To Hell And Back

Read it on AO3, FF.net, or under the cut!

Warning: Major (temporary) character death.

After standing up to Satan himself in the Apocalypse That Wasn’t, Crowley was made mortal while Hell bought itself some time to come up with an extra special punishment. However, as Aziraphale reminded him, mortals are eligible for redemption. And so, the race to redeem Anthony J Crowley begins.

It had been a week after the Apocalypse-that-wasn't when Crowley and Aziraphale heard back from their respective superiors. To say the aftermath of the botched Armageddon had been a wild ride would have been the understatement of the century so far. But with ten more years of said century to go, anything could happen.

Aziraphale’s superiors had been quite pleased with his bravery, and had given him a commendation for standing up to Satan himself with only his sword in his hands and a demon who forgot his loyalties* to fight by his side.

(*This, Aziraphale knew to be untrue, as the angel was well aware that Crowley was only loyal to himself and his friends.**)

(**Which was a convenient shorthand for, and a less desperate sounding alternative to "Aziraphale".)

Crowley's superiors on the other hand… not so much. Not that he was surprised. No, he fully expected them to not appreciate his little revolt. He was, however, surprised he wasn't just discorporated on the spot by a stray bolt of lightning, or simply wiped out of all existence.

Instead, he was demoted. Not even a little bit demoted. No, demoted all the way. Damned to live out the rest of his days as a mortal, human man, stripped of all his demonic powers and attributes, while Hell bought itself some time to cook up an extra special punishment for him when his time did come.

Aziraphale, however, was more optimistic about Crowley's predicament than the man himself.

"Come now, dear. It's not so bad..." Aziraphale said in a tone Crowley knew was meant to comfort him. It didn't.

The angel placed a warm hand on his own and looked a little deeper into Crowley’s eyes than he remembered him ever looking in them when they still had their serpentine look to them. They were a rich, chocolate brown now, and every morning Crowley spent an embarrassing amount of time staring in them through the mirror, telling himself that they took some getting used to.

Maybe it was just the lack of his sunglasses, which he had accidentally left in his flat for the first time ever. The world seemed just that little brighter and more intense without them, but the now mortal demon could not afford to bask in the glory of it. In fact, he couldn't afford much of anything at all.

"What do you mean, 'it's not so bad'?! I can't instantaneously sober up anymore, I can't drive, speaking of which, I have to push the Bentley to the nearest petrol station to get it to run at all, I can't cook and I can't eat at any of my usual places without seriously breaking the bank, and then there's my flat! My ridiculously expensive flat! And my plants! I have to get a job now, Aziraphale! And did I not tell you every single possibility of what might happen to me if-- when I die?!"

"Only in excruciating detail."

"Then why aren't you concerned?!"

"A job just opened up at the boutique next door. Vintage fashion. All unique items salvaged from garage sales and the like, sold for an immense profit. It seemed right up your alley to me, so I told them you'd like to drop by for an interview tomorrow at 2 o'clock." The angel beamed, obviously very satisfied with himself.

"But--" Crowley attempted to self sabotage.

"No diplomas or previous retail experience required. They only want to know if you're stylish and snarky enough for them and I think you've got that covered. You're welcome. As for Hell… You're a human now, Crowley. That means you're eligible for redemption. Just be good, maybe do some charity work and you might not have to fear what your former colleagues have in store for you."

"Thanks, angel." Crowley smiled, full of hope for the first time since this whole ordeal started.

"Always happy to help."

The following day at 2 o’clock, Crowley went to his job interview. He was hired on the spot on the merit of his amicably judgmental nature and his sense of style. Incidentally, he had also found out where Aziraphale had acquired a substantial part of his collection of tacky bow ties. He made a mental note of it to hide the rack every time the angel entered the shop. Enough is enough.

Unsurprisingly, Crowley began to like his new job. The people who came to the boutique to shop were his people after all. Young, trendy, ambitious. The kind of people he spent the last six millennia nudging and probing, slowly winning souls for his master. It almost made him feel nostalgic. Almost.

Because he could now unashamedly spend time with Aziraphale. It was only a short trip to the apartment over the bookshop next door, where the two more often than not had lunch together, and spent many an evening learning to cook for themselves. Crowley out of necessity, Aziraphale mostly to humour Crowley.

Aziraphale loved having the other around more often. Sure, he was used to not have Crowley around at all times, but he knew, now that Crowley was made mortal, they didn't have much time left. 80 years, if they were so lucky, was only the blink of an eye compared to the 6,000 years they had been friends. That's why he planned to make the most of it.

Once Crowley had reached a level of financial stability both the angel and the fledgling human were satisfied with, Aziraphale decided it was time for Crowley to start doing some volunteer work. After all, if he managed to get the man into Heaven, he could at least visit him after it happened.

Spending time with the elderly at a nearby nursing home, playing board games, going for walks and the like, had been a raving success, but the director*** didn't appreciate how taken the old ladies were with Crowley's charms and swiftly sent the two away. And where Crowley’s snarky sense of humour was applauded at the boutique, it wasn't as welcome at the food bank.

(*** Who strongly suspected that the two had only come to swindle the dementing women out of their pensions...)

Aziraphale pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a much needed sigh.

"There has to be something you're good at that you like doing and will also redeem you." The angel mumbled as he paced back and forth on the hardwood floor of his bookshop, quickly swiping a bottle of wine from Crowley's hands before he could get wasted.

Crowley only groaned.

"Can't I just go to church and confess and clear my name like that?" He suggested.

"Technically yes, but no. You and the priest will be long dead before you make it through the fourteenth century."

"For fuck's sake, that wasn't on me!"

"Dear, please..." Aziraphale urged, shooting the man a sharp glare.

"I like my plants..." Crowley mumbled meekly. All this talk of dying and going to heaven had him more on-edge than ever before, and the last thing he wanted was to snap at his best and only friend. "I'm pretty good with those… And animals. I like animals. Like that poor dove you smothered in your sleeve, at Warlock’s birthday party?"

"I remember." The angel said, a fond, hopeful smile creeping to his features as he remembered the demon breathing new life into the squished bird. "How about an animal shelter?"

The animals at the shelter took surprisingly well to Crowley. The dogs liked his company, and the cats seemed to not hate him. The reptiles and amphibians seemed satisfied, yet ultimately indifferent, while the rabbits and other small mammals cowered in the corners of their respective enclosures the second he walked in the door.****

(**** This was no surprise to Crowley and Aziraphale. Sure, Hell had taken away his snake-like attributes, but old habits die hard.)

The other volunteers liked him decidedly better than the rodents did; after all, he did the chores he was given and did them well. When he manned the front desk, he talked to the visitors and answered phone calls in the same saccharine tone he did to his old superiors, he shovelled poop like nobody's business and, without having been asked, Crowley reorganized and digitized all of the records in such a way that anyone could find anything at any time.

One volunteer had asked out of curiosity where the man had acquired his administrative skills, but laughed it off when Crowley simply answered "Hell".

But, as with most people who lived fast, Crowley also died young. He had been in a heated argument over the phone with a frequent customer of the boutique as he was crossing Oxford Street, overlooking a speed demon in a Corvette that was doing 60 miles per hour. It was nowhere near his own record, but nevertheless, more than his human internal organs could handle in a frontal collision.

And Aziraphale… Aziraphale was devastated.

He wasn't devastated quite yet when he stumbled upon an enormous crowd effectively blocking the sidewalks of Oxford street. He was trying to get back to his bookshop for Crowley’s lunch break, holding a grocery bag in each hand.

"Excuse me, may I pass, please? Some of us have somewhere to be." Aziraphale said as he wormed his way through the crowd. However, when he finally popped out the other end, nearly spraining his ankle as he slipped on the edge of the sidewalk, he realized that this was exactly where he was meant to be.

"Crowley!" He cried before he dropped his groceries and dashed over to his motionless friend, sprawled on the street like a limp ragdoll whose master was done playing with him. Eggs cracked in their cartons and a lone apple rolled across the street. "No, no, no, no..." The angel chanted to himself as he ran, a painful burn spreading through his leg. He didn't care. What mattered now, was Crowley.

Aziraphale kneeled beside him, carefully taking hold of the man's upper body and cradled him to his chest as he ignored the police officers’ protests and the blur of his watering eyes. He had to focus. He squeezed his eyes shut and clung to Crowley’s body, trying to conjure up a miracle. Though, however vast the power of an angel may be, there were certain boundaries to what they could do with their magic, and raising the dead was far beyond that boundary. So when Crowley’s heart didn't start beating again within thirty seconds, that could only mean one thing.

A cry escaped Aziraphale that the angel hadn't thought his corporeal form capable of. It was earth shattering, almost animal and brimming with grief. This entire month he had focused so much on making sure his friend would be okay after his moment came, that he completely ignored his own feelings on the matter.

"No, you can't do this to me, you can't--" The angel cried, finally allowing the tears to spill from his eyes. "Please, don't leave me, my dear..."

Aziraphale gasped when a heavy handed fell onto his shoulder. Through his tears, he looked up at the police officer the hand belonged to. A friendly looking, mustachioed, older gentleman.

"I'm sorry for your loss, sir." The police officer said in a vaguely northern accent.

Aziraphale nodded and looked down, mumbling a small "Thank you". His sad look quickly became a furious glare, however, when he noticed the hands of a coroner prying at his own. He tried to regain the hold on Crowley, but the policeman caught Aziraphale’s wrists before he had the chance. "Bring him-- Give him back! Don't take him away from me! I didn't… I didn't tell him I love him..."

"I'm sorry, but we have to clear the road." The police officer said as he stood up and helped Aziraphale to his feet as well. "That coroner there will take your friend to the morgue, and I will take you there as well for all the closure you might need, but first I need you to come down to the station with me to answer some questions."

Aziraphale nodded. He knew that a few weeks of volunteer work would never make up for six millennia of 'getting up there and making some trouble’, so the angel did all he could; he prayed.

Crowley squinted as he looked up at the towering, cloaked skeleton, standing in front of him in the middle of Oxford street. He slowly lowered his cell phone, not hearing the beeping that told him the signal was lost.

"What are you doing here?" He asked. "What happened? Why can I see you?"

A bony arm extended a bony hand, which extended a bony finger.

Crowley slowly turned around to follow the motion, terrified of what he may find. A hushed, trembling "No" escaped him.

YES.

"No… No! It can't be! I just started to get the hang of this! It's not fair! I haven't gotten the chance to learn to drive, I haven't gotten the chance to redeem myself, I haven't gotten the chance to--"

Crowley froze in place when he saw Aziraphale break through the crowd that gathered around the scene of the accident. He could only watch as his angel kneeled down by his contorted, bleeding form and cradled Crowley's uninhabited body close to his chest. The cry the angel let out would have sent a shiver down his spine, had he still had one.

I KNOW IT IS UNFAIR, BUT SOMETIMES IT'S JUST LIKE THAT.

Death placed a sympathetic hand on Crowley's shoulder. It was just what he needed as the world and everything he had ever loved faded away.

"I'm sorry, Aziraphale..."

When he arrived in Hell, Crowley had been too heartbroken to fully realize the trouble he found himself in.

“Back so soon?”

Oh no. Not them. Not now.

“Not so tough now, are you? Just a soft, squishy, human soul for us to torture.”

“Though it would have been nice if you’d given us some actual time to come up with a punishment more suited to your treason.”

A dark chuckle escaped Crowley as he slowly regained his composure.

"Hastur, Ligur," he greeted bitterly, "I see the antichrist has been too generous to you. Hi, Dagon."

"Hi."

For a short moment, there was nothing. No one spoke, no one breathed, and in that moment, Crowley was sure no one thought, either.

"So, since you have no punishment suitable for my treachery, surely you're here to see me off back to the surface, correct? Let me live out the rest of my days? Volunteer at the animal shelter some more?" Crowley said, still trying to charm his way out of eternity with these tools.

"Make out with your 'angel'?" Hastur mocked. “Don’t think we didn’t know about that. It was obvious to everyone except for you.”

Ouch. That one cut deep.

"No, we're keeping you down here." Ligur continued. "Seeing as you're already well-versed in Hell's bureaucracy, we figured it might be fun for you to catch up on our paperwork."

"The entire twentieth century.” Hastur gestured enthusiastically. Crowley had never seen this demon so excited about… well, anything, really. “By the time you're through processing all those souls, I'm sure you'll be begging for whatever we've come up with."

The worst part of it was, Crowley was sure of that too.

Despite having a hand in designing post-1950s office spaces, Crowley had never been a fan of them himself. (Secretly,) It was a greater achievement than the M25 London orbital motorway, but he hated them with a fiery passion. They reminded him too much of “home”.

There, he sat at a single desk in a dark cubicle with red lighting that made the walls feel like they were closing in on him, typing away at a near-prehistoric typewriter as he processed all ‘new arrivals’ since 1898. It was almost as if his old colleagues, with some measure of foresight, started slacking off on their paperwork in the event that something like this might happen. It was clever, having this kind of back-up punishment lying around. And it’s not like Hastur or Ligur ever gave a care about all of the souls being held hostage in Limbo until some poor sod* would be tasked with getting all of this done.

(*Read: Crowley)

A groan escaped Crowley at what felt like the millionth case. What time was it? How long had he been here? His jacket had been long abandoned on his chair, and even though he hadn’t seen a mirror since he set foot back in Hell, he knew he looked like a mess. He felt it. His usually perfectly exfoliated skin felt grimy, his hair felt more greasy and unkempt every time he ran his hands through it and he felt an uneven stubble growing from his chin. Something he’d long since forgotten wasn’t exclusive to his corporeal form. He stretched his arms over his head, his back and shoulders popped. Crowley was about to ram his face into the keys of the typewriter when he was interrupted by a deep, buldering voice.

“Anthony James Crowley.”

Crowley’s gaze snapped up. In front of his desk stood the last person he expected. The Metatron. Arms crossed, perpetual look of disapproval plastered on their features.

The ex-demon stuttered. “I-I, uh, how-- How can I help you?” He asked, feeling himself sit up straighter.

“We hate to admit this, but we require your assistance.”

“What?” He asked. “You’re the voice of God for crying out loud! What could you possibly need my help for?”

“We will explain on the way.” The Metatron said and snapped their fingers, leaving only a spinning office chair behind.

It had been a year since Crowley’s untimely death, and Aziraphale still wasn’t taking it well.

Not long after it happened, the angel worked up the nerve to call back a few potential customers to tell them that one book they were looking for had just gone up for sale. With the money he raised, he managed to throw his friend a modest funeral to which he was the only guest. No one from the boutique or the animal shelter seemed to be able to make it. It wouldn’t do much good for Crowley, he knew, but it allowed him some closure. And after six millennia, God knew he needed that.

After that, life was mostly just… boring. He had no one to talk with, to drink with, no one to cook or to sing or to dance with, and without a demon around in close proximity, there wasn’t a whole lot of evil to thwart. And so, most of Aziraphale’s life after Crowley was spent drinking alone, lying in bed to wallow in self pity and praying every minute of every hour of every day that someone, somewhere would be merciful to his precious Crowley.

Until that day, a year after the accident, someone was knocking on his front door. Aziraphale hadn’t wanted to get up, and therefore didn’t, despite the persistent knocking. Knocking turned into banging and after a while, it was quiet. But then the angel heard the deadbolt turn.

This alarmed him enough to get up from his bed, rub the tears from his eyes and crept down the stairs, flaming sword in hand. Aziraphale distinctly remembered placing a charm on the deadbolt. Whoever this was, they weren’t human.

Books shuffled from and to the shelves of the shop as if someone were inspecting them and the angel felt the hands tighten around the handle of his sword. As he slinked along the bookcases, he spotted a figure in front of the bookcase by the till. They wore a light grey suit and hummed merrily as they plucked books from the shelves, examining their covers for a brief moment before putting them back. Out of chronological order.

This, Aziraphale decided, was unforgivable. How dare they do this to him in his time of grief?! He snuck up to the figure and pointed his blade at them before shouting:

"Who do you think you are?!"

The turned around, held up their hands and whimpered at the sight of the sword so close to their face.

"Aziraphale, for fuck's sake, put that thing away!"

The blade dropped to the floor. Flames licking at the old, hardwood panels, but never scorching. Never burning.

The angel took one more step towards the intruder, nearly closing the gap between them. Hands reached for the familiar face in front of him. His eyes started to water as he stared into the other's eyes, now a bright blue to rival his own. He couldn't believe what he was seeing, but when the other spoke up, he knew he'd better believe.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Crowley asked. A dull 'oof' was forced from him as a pair of plump arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

"Don't you ever leave me like that again!" Aziraphale cried into his chest. "Do you have any idea how worried I was about you?!" He said as he pulled back and made a point of it to glare up at the recent reinstated angel.

Crowley glanced away and mumbled. "I have a vague idea..."

"How are you here?" Aziraphale asked as he started to calm down. Tears still flowed from his eyes, but the other bent over to thumb them away.

"It's funny you should ask that." Crowley smiled, all straight white teeth without a single fang in sight. "Apparently your prayers for my sake overloaded all of Above's communications."

"Oh..." Aziraphale mumbled. "That would explain why I haven't heard from them… What happened next?"

"Well," Crowley started, "with all of Heaven's communications on its ass, the Metatron went down into Hell to enlist the help of the one and only you-expert. Me."

"So, what you're saying is… Aziraphale’s prayers for me are blocking everything? Going in and out?"

"That is what we're saying. This cannot go on any longer." The Metatron said monotonously.

"So, what you want to know from me is....?"

"How do we make him stop? How do you stop these little… temper tantrums?" They asked.

‘Temper tantrum’ felt like the wrong wording to Crowley, but he knew he had to think quickly. This was his one ticket out of Hell permanently. A satisfied smile spread across his face as the right words formulated in his head.

"I've found that the most effective way to get him to stop is to simply give him what he wants. I can’t put it any simpler than that." The man said and shrugged casually.

"So you can die again in 80 years and we start this all over again?" The Metatron asked, unamused, raising a single eyebrow. "We shall pass on that."

Crowley winced internally. He was on thin ice, but all wasn't lost yet.

"What if I promise to be really good?" He asked, swaying back and forth on his feet and batting his eyelashes.

"You cannot possibly be suggesting..."

"Oh, but I am. And besides, isn't that a small price to pay for Aziraphale’s silence?" The words felt dirty in his mouth, but it was now or never. Back to Aziraphale or back to Hell.

"Alright, fine." The Metatron huffed, throwing up their arms in exasperation. "Consider it done, just pass on this one message."

"So… they made you an angel and sent you back just to buy my silence?" Aziraphale asked. His eyes narrowed in slight disgust.

This time, it was Crowley who pulled Aziraphale into a hug. "I know, I know. I felt so gross using you as leverage, but I just really wanted to come back to you..."

The smaller angel hushed the other and gently stroked his hair as he returned the embrace. "You're forgiven, Crowley. I missed you..." Aziraphale said. "And I love you. I don't know why it never occurred to me to tell you while you were alive, but..."

Crowley’s hushed "I love you too" had barely been spoken when Aziraphale lunged forward to kiss him. Crowley happily complied and kissed back until Aziraphale pulled away.

"What did the Metatron want you to tell me that they couldn't come down to tell me themselves, anyway?"

"'Shut the Hell up', angel." The angel smirked as he kissed his love again.

[freightspart]

How Can Digital Technology In Freight Forwarding Help Pricing Teams?

The shipping industry is one of the oldest industries, but it is still struggling to catch up with digitalisation and innovation. While many freight Melbourne to Brisbane companies are taking advantage of the latest tech trends, others are still lagging behind in terms of technology and services offered.

The freight forwarding industry has also been slow in adopting new technologies, but this is changing rapidly. Many well-known companies have started incorporating digital solutions into their operations to improve accuracy and efficiency.

How Digital Technology Helps Freight Forwarding Pricing Teams

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Efficiency

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Another way in which digital technology helps with efficiency is through collaboration across departments within your organisation as well as with your suppliers and customers.

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The use of cloud technology enables you to leverage on the benefits of storing your data in the cloud, which includes:

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Conclusion

It’s a huge value booster for pricing teams as it ensures that they have all the relevant data insights and infrastructural support at hand. The freight Melbourne to Brisbane industry has witnessed that digital technology is on its way to changing the face of shipping and logistics, but it’s not just about technology—it’s also about implementing processes, hiring the right people with knowledge of both technology and business, training employees on how to use these tools, and making sure they don’t become obsolete anytime soon!

Source: https://freightmelbournetobrisbane.blogspot.com/2022/10/how-can-digital-technology-in-freight-forwarding-help-pricing-teams.html