#mule training

[1929crash]

Legalize Non-toxic Cannabis

All of these states only quit shooting people over plant leaves after Libertarian Party spoiler votes helped voters defeat their coercive candidates.

After reading a Jacob Sullum article in Reason (link) I used the linked data for States that had repealed marijuana prohibition(link) and added the year of repeal. Whether you sort by repeal year or direction of percentage change, the results show that for the 17 states that repealed pot prohibition all but 4 repealed starting the year the LP’s 4.3 million votes redealt 127 electoral vote…

[pulpsandcomics2]

Mule Train Crossing the Sierras by Frederic Remington

[trexalicious]

Mules are saving the day! A friend of mine has a mule and belongs to a mule packers group. She said:

FEMA turned them back the other day (you know, people with mules loaded with supplies just so they could loot is a common occurrence 🤪), but local law enforcement turned them back around and escorted them past FEMA. I don't have much to spare, but I did send $ donation to the mule packers.

Here is her mule Annie Oatley...

[tilbageidanmark]

I'd sell your heart to the junk-man baby for a buck, for a buck If you're looking for someone To pull you out of that ditch You're out of luck, you're out of luck The ship is sinking, the ship is sinking, the ship is sinking There's a leak, there's a leak In the boiler room The poor, the lame, the blind Who are the ones left in charge? Killers, thieves and Lawyers God's away, God's away, God's away On Business, business

[court-of-angels]

Disneyland Opening Day - LIFE Magazine (2)

[locomotive-idiot]

i love harbors

[urgentkettle]

I’ve seen so many comments trying to frame this as “the government failed so bad that they had to resort to mules and horses “ as if they were not the perfect solution to this problem.

So I haven’t really been seeing folks talk much here at all about what’s been going on with Hurricane Helene recovery- but I thought I might share something I thought was cool and important.

Because of how roads have been washed out making homes and towns inaccessible to vehicles, the Cajun Navy (organizations that performs search, rescue, and assistance during disasters) has partnered with Mountain Mule Packer Ranch to use the mules to get medications, food, and water to people in need.

I just think it’s incredible. Despite all the technology you’d think is accessible to help people out, mules are still the most reliable form of transport to save people’s lives

[mulemasters]

MuleSoft RPA vs UiPath security

Hey, sure thing! Wanna check out how MuleSoft RPA and UiPath stack up in terms of security? Let's dive in!

When it comes to Robotic Process Automation (RPA), is key. As companies hop on the RPA bandwagon to streamline their operations, keeping data and processes safe is crucial. So, how do MuleSoft and UiPath compare on the security front?

MuleSoft RPA Security Features

MuleSoft is a pro at integrating various systems while keeping security tight. Here's what it brings to the table:

API Security:

MuleSoft’s Anypoint Platform goes all out in protecting APIs used in RPA tasks from cyber attacks.

Data Encryption:

Making sure your data is safe, MuleSoft encrypts sensitive info at all times.

Identity and Access Management:

By teaming up with different identity providers, MuleSoft ensures only the right peeps can access your data.

Audit Logging and Monitoring:

Keeping tabs on all RPA activities helps spot anything fishy ASAP.

Compliance:

Meeting industry standards like GDPR & HIPAA means Mulesoft’s got your back on data privacy.

UiPath Security Features

UiPath is famous for its easy-to-use interface and top-notch automation skills:

Secure Credential Storage:

Say goodbye to sleepless nights – UiPath stores sensitive credentials safely.

Role-Based Access Control (RBAC):

Handing out permissions wisely keeps unauthorized eyes away from your precious data.

Data Encryption:

Like MuleSoft, UiPath locks down your info both at rest and in transit.

Audit and Compliance:

No worries about sticking to regulations – UiPath logs everything you need for compliance checks.

Threat Protection:

With defense mechanisms like anomaly detection, UiPath shields your RPA tasks from sneaky threats.

Comparative Analysis

Integration Security:

MuleSoft: Nails API security if you’re big on API integrations.

UiPath: Focuses more on RPA-specific safety measures but still keeps things tight.

Identity and Access Management:

Both platforms make sure only the right folks get their hands on sensitive stuff.

Audit and Compliance:

Detailed records are kept by both platforms to meet industry standards with ease.

Data Protection:

Both lock down your data real tight, so no sneaky folks can get a peek.

Conclusion

MuleSoft and UiPath are both solid choices for securing your RPA tasks and data. If you're into complex integrations, go for MuleSoft’s robust API protection. But if automating everyday tasks sounds more up your alley, UiPath’s user-friendly features might be just what you need.

Ultimately, whether you go with MuleSoft or UiPath depends on what suits your organization best for safety and efficiency in automating tasks!

Feel free to jazz up this content as needed!

[mulesoftesb]

Improve productivity and user adoption with Mulesoft training and certification. Onlineitguru offers comprehensive instructor-led online and self-paced video-based training in Hyderabad. For more information Onlineitguru Contact +91 9550102466.  https://onlineitguru.com/mulesoft-training.html

[sandra-hippologic]

Deworming Rita the (still) Unapproachable Mule

Husbandry skills with an unapproachable mule: training for deworming

Rita, the Unapproachable Mule that I’m working with in the Donkey Refuge is making progress! I still can’t approach her so close that I can touch her, but she comes pretty close to me now. Husbandry skill: deworming The herd she’s in (all donkeys, she’s the only mule) needed their deworming done. Rita hasn’t been dewormed in 6 years because there is NO WAY you can approach her. They have tried…

[starlight-storytime]

essay in tags :p

[entitled-fangirl]

More wolf.

Cregan Stark x Bracken wife!reader

Summary: Cregan's Bracken wife is full of fire, and it warms his Northern heart. A misunderstanding comes between them, and the tension only grows.

Warnings: talks of death, sparring, attacking, breaking trust, talks of sex

A/n: God, I love this more than I love myself. This is one of my favorites.

Masterlist

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

She didn't take his hand when she dismounted her horse. 

She was too stubborn of a woman, Cregan often thought. 

She was a Bracken, and Brackens were nothing if not stubborn as mules.

The war did nothing to bridge the gap. In fact, it made it only grow.

A Bracken married to the Wolf who fought for the Blacks.

It seemed ridiculous.

Now, married for a few months, nothing had changed. 

Her feet hit the ground, and she smoothed out her dress. "Ready, Lord Husband?" She asked out of politeness and nothing more. 

Cregan let out a soft sigh. 

She was gorgeous, if only she wasn't so stubborn. 

…

The brass woman confused Cregan more and more every day. 

He stepped out into the courtyard at his usual time to spar, but paused. 

She angrily swung her sword at the dummy, the sound of the fabric ripping filling the air.

He cursed under his breath at the sight of her legs now clad in pants. It awoken something in him.

"Good morrow, wife."

She turned, the tip of the sword falling to the ground as she looked at him. Sweat dripped from her forehead, her hair a mess around her face. 

Gods, she was beautiful.

She tipped her head at him as she panted. "Good morrow, husband. Am- Am I in your way? I apologize. I usually train in the afternoon but I find this cooler morning weather quite lovely."

He hummed, trying to stay focused. "As do I. Hence why I spar then. Please, don't let me interrupt you."

"No," she insists as she brushes her forearm across her forehead. "A break will do me well. Perhaps I'll stop here."

She grabbed her things and began to walk away. 

"How is it that I've not seen you training until now, wife? You've been here four months now." He hums, "Strange, don't you think?"

"Not in the slightest," she retorted over her shoulder. "Why would I want my husband to know of my swordsmanship?"

He watched her walk off, trying not to focus too closely on her ass.

…

While Cregan was frustrated at the war, he was no monster. So, he allowed Aeron Bracken, her brother, to write to her often. The only criterion was that Cregan had to read the letters back and forth when sent and received. He was to be the one to break the seal when received and the one to send hers off. It was a fair deal, honestly more than fair.

"His respect for me and my people stopped the moment I declared my army the Queen's. Even after our wedding," he grimaced. He threw the paper down onto the desk. "Has he always spoken of me this way?"

She shook her head. "I fear the war is beginning to drive him mad. He's an angry man, driven by whatever angers our father the most." She leaned back in her chair. "If it eases your mind at all, I often ignore those parts of his letters."

It did ease his mind to hear her small proclamation, no matter how slightly backhanded it seemed. 

"How will you respond?"

She sighed and stood. "I won't."

His mouth opened, but by the time he thought of something to say, she was gone.

…

Cregan stayed in the courtyard the entire next day. He blamed it on his frustration and stress for the upcoming war but in all reality?

He was waiting for her to come train again.

Various men and servants came to him to try to beckon him indoors to deal with urgent matters, but he'd send them away, not wanting to leave for even a moment.

And eventually, she did show. 

But only for a moment.

She stepped out and paused at the sight of Cregan there. She looked around in confusion and a slight bit of frustration, then stomped back indoors. 

That cute fucking furrow in her brow had him beginning to think things a gentleman never would.

…

He decided to try again the next day, hoping that this time, he could catch her before she stomped off. 

But Cregan underestimated the Bracken's intelligence, for she had peeked from various balconies throughout the day to view the courtyard. And seeing that he was still there, she ducked back indoors. 

How infuriating.

…

That night, Cregan stretched from his chair in his solar. The workload was getting to him, especially when he had to complete it all in the night hours due to his daytime activities. 

He brought his hands to his face, as if he could rub away the sleeping hormones that began to control his brain. 

A distance sound made his head perk up.

He moved to his window, daring to peak out into the night.

In the courtyard stood his bride, lit only by torchlight, stabbing away at a sparring dummy.

He wanted to be angry. He really did. How foolish was this woman to be out alone like this?

But it filled him with pride more.

He found himself stepping away from the window and through the doorway, barely grabbing his cloak in time. 

He stepped out into the cold air outdoors, smiling at the sight of his wife. "Bit dark for training, don't you think?"

It startled her enough that she dropped the heavy longsword, trying to ignore the sound of it hitting the ground. She spun around. 

He expected her to laugh at that, or at least find joy in that fact that he noticed her presence out here. But no. She was infuriated.

"What the hell are you playing at?"

He took a step back in shock. "I don't know what you mean."

She huffed, placing a hand on her hip, the other in her hair to rub at her scalp. "Will you not let me have the night either? If this is too unladylike for you, Lord Stark, just say so." She kicked at her sword. "Fucking take it then."

Cregan held his hands up, trying to remain calm despite her outburst. "I meant no harm."

"Oh, I'm sure you didn't." She lets out a humorless laugh. "You only occupy the courtyard from dawn until dusk, knowing well that this is the one thing I have here."

Cregan's jaw fell a bit at that. "I hadn't thought of it that way. I only wished-"

"What?" She stepped up to him, though their height difference was much, the anger in her eyes made up for it. "What does the great Wolf of the North wish for?"

"To see you happy," he admits softly before he can stop himself.

Her brows come together, the same look that makes Cregan have to shift his weight to his other leg. 

"I'll go, wife. And I won't bother you again out here. That I swear."

The tension between the two was at a peak as they stared at one another. 

He studied her as if it was the last time, and turned to walk back indoors.

"Cregan."

He immediately paused in his step, not even looking back at her. 

Her voice was soft, something he'd not heard before. "If you want- I'd like a sparring partner."

His face lit up in a bright grin, but he wouldn't dare let her see it. "I'll be there."

And he stepped inside.

…

The next day, Cregan spent outdoors. 

And when she appeared, he was beyond gleeful.

"How good exactly are you, Cregan Stark?" She asked as she reached for her sword.

Was that a tease?

He leaned over her back to grab his own, taking the opportunity to speak into her ear. "Very."

She tried to ignore the shiver that moved down her spine at the northman's husky voice.

She'd taken on larger opponents, but she feared that he was perhaps the best. 

Aeron was good, but he was no Cregan Stark.

"Ready to weep for my mercy?" She further teased when they got into formation.

A genuine laugh came from him as he spun Ice in his hand. "I don't think I'll have to worry about that, my lady."

"You're no Aegon the Conqueror," she jabbed.

He took initiative, stepping forward and swinging the large blade through the air. 

She blocked it easily enough, the sound of the metal scrapping filling their ears. 

He pushed his blade against hers, trying to get the advantage. "I believe I'm more of a Maegor myself."

"More of a Torrhen."

They pulled away from one another, and Cregan's blade dropped a bit. "You mock my ancestor?"

She faltered, her face falling. "I didn't mean-"

Cregan used that to his advantage, using his sword to knock hers out of her hand. The tip of Ice touched her throat. 

The two stared at one another, hers in shock, and his in amusement. 

"Never let your guard down."

She had to manually remember how to shut her mouth, the shock getting to her, and then the small bit of anger came in. "What's the ancient saying? Ah, yes, 'Fuck you'."

Cregan couldn't stop the bright chuckle that erupted from his chest. He tapped the flat end of the blade against the underside of her chin, forcing her head up. "Careful there, or I'll think those words literal. What was it your brother called me? A 'dumb brute'? Perhaps you shouldn't overestimate my intelligence, Bracken."

When he lowered his blade, she felt herself take a small gasp of air, trying to bring oxygen to her heated cheeks. "You're not dumb or a brute," she defended.

"No? What am I, wife?" He asked softly.

Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. She hadn't meant to compliment him so openly, and now her defenses were vulnerable. "You're not… unintelligent."

He grinned, spinning his sword again. "Wow. What a compliment from a pretty girl. I fear I'm flushed."

She tried to ignore the tumble her stomach did when he called her pretty. "Well," she said as she bent down to pick up her sword, "I'm nothing if not honest." She adjusted her grip on it. "Again."

Cregan stared blankly, knowing he was head over heels for this girl.

…

He woke up better than he should have the next morning, beyond ecstatic for his sparring time with his wife.

He groaned and stood, ready to start his day. 

His servant came in and began to help him dress, but there was a certain look to the man's eye. 

"What?" Cregan asked. 

"Hmm?" The man looked up. "Oh, nothing, my lord. Excuse me."

"No," he pushed. "Speak your mind, please. I encourage it."

The servant hesitated. "It's not mine to tell."

"Speak," Cregan ordered a little harsher.

"Your wife, my lord. The lady, she- she's inconsolable."

Cregan paused. "What?"

"There was a letter of some kind…?" He trailed off.

Cregan audibly growled. He dragged his tongue across the top row of his teeth to think carefully about his words. "From House Bracken? She broke the seal without me?"

"So I've been told, my lord."

"Where is she?" He asked a little too calmly.

"In the courtyard, I believe."

Cregan sighed. "Dress me for a spar."

…

Indeed she was outside, repeatedly swinging her sword without pause at the wooden dummy.

She was angry. 

Her arms burned, her legs ached, sweat ran down her face in abundance, but her anger was too much to stop. 

She swung back again only to feel the weight of her blade leave her hands. 

"YOU BROKE MY TRUST," an angry voice sounded from behind her.

She whipped around. 

Cregan stood, his towering frame only more intimidating with his anger. His eyes were set on her like a wolf spotting prey. Her longsword lay in his hand, his grip so tight that his knuckles were four shades lighter than the rest of him. 

With his teeth bared like that, she finally understood all of the Stark/direwolf references. 

"Give me my blade," she shot back. 

He held it out of her reach. "Starks are honest. Noble. Trustworthy. You are no Stark."

She scoffed. "Cause I broke one seal?"

"It's more than that and you know it."

"Give. Me. My. Sword."

When she reached out for it, Cregan took his free hand to grab her jaw tightly. "What was in that letter?" He growled.

"Fuck you."

He pulled her closer, their breaths mixing in the cold air. "Tell me."

She spat in his face, throwing Cregan off. 

Taking a play from his book, she used that to reach out and take her blade. She stepped back and pointed it at him. "Stay away from me."

"So eager to take advantage of my kindness, girl?"

She shook her head. "Kind? You're not kind at all. Hoping to lower my defenses and gain my trust, all while your war waged on in the background? Hardly a gentlemanly thing to do."

Her words made him falter for a moment. "What?"

"Oh, don't act so noble now, Stark." She waved the blade around as she spoke. "Parade me around while I remain clueless. I may be your Stark, but I am no traitor to anyone, much less my family."

"I never said you were," he said through gritted teeth. "Give me your sword. End this foolishness."

"I'd rather die."

Cregan forced himself to take a breath, reaching for Ice. "Don't do something you'll regret, wife."

"What will you do?" She held her arms up. "Kill me too? Just do it already."

"You fucking Bracken!" He yelled. "So caught up in yourself that you-" His head tilted and his voice softened immediately. "Kill you too? What does that mean?"

She shook her head. "Playing innocence? How noble indeed. Maybe you really are just a dumb bru-"

"-Watch your next words carefully, wife," he warned lowly. His patience was wearing thin. 

"Yes, I broke the seal. Yes, I read the letter. Punish me, I don't care!" She almost threw her sword aside but stopped herself. "Would you have even told me?"

"Told you what?" He looked around in anger. "What are you even doing out here? Practicing to spear your husband?"

That was obviously the wrong thing to say, he noticed. Though he wasn't sure why. 

She swung her sword at him in anger, and he retrieved Ice quick enough to block it. 

She growled and let out a series of swings, each driving her a step forward and the Stark a step back. 

Cregan was an expert swordsman, blocking each one. Her attacks were sloppy without a doubt, but the speed caused him to be on edge. 

He soon found himself backed up against the wall of Winterfell where he had to block and push his blade against hers to keep her from getting the upper hand. 

Their faces were close, the only separation being the blades between them. 

Cregan studied her face. The furrowed brow, the soft complexion, the tears in her eyes. 

"If this is how a Stark man consoles a woman in mourning," she whispered, "I want no part of you."

Seeing that her words hurt him more than her blade ever could, she backed away, throwing her sword in the dirt and storming off.

"My father had the decency to tell me since it seems my husband wouldn't," she yelled over her shoulder. 

Cregan stayed against the wall in contemplation. "Your father never writes you," he yelled back.

"Exactly."

…

Aeron Bracken was dead. 

Cregan ran his fingers across the ink over and over again, rereading the letter once he finished it. 

Was he surprised? No. But if there was any noble death to a Bracken, it was challenging a Blackwood. 

"Ashamed I read it without your leering shadow?" A small voice sounded from the door. 

Cregan looked up at her, only seeing now just how distraught she was. Her eyes held a dullness to them now that he'd extinguished the fire in them earlier. Her cheeks seemed sunken in. He wasn't sure how that could even happen from news that was only heard hours before. Her shoulders that once held pride and stubborness were slumped in surrender. Even her dress seemed too heavy for her now.

"My condolences." That was all he knew to say.

She took in a shaky breath as hot tears began to fall down her face without warning. 

Seems there was more to her than the anger she always hid behind. 

"I should have written to him that day," she cried as she looked at Cregan. "Why didn't I write to him when I had the chance?"

Cregan cursed under his breath. 

They both knew the answer. 

Aeron had insulted Cregan. 

He felt so guilty for placing her between two sides. 

Cregan had no words of reassurance. No 'He died a noble death,' for he had died attacking Cregan's ally. No 'He loved you well,' cause he wasn't sure that Aeron did. No 'I'm here,' for the last thing she wanted was his touch. 

"I didn't know," is what he finally settled on.

She sniffled. "What?"

"This," he gestured to the letter. "I didn't know. The Blackwoods have not written to me yet, it seems. For if they did, I would have told you myself."

"Would you?" She questioned lightly.

"Better from me than ink-"

"Forgive me for my actions."

He paused. "Alright."

"I was cruel without reason. I suppose grief can cause the mind to forget a lot of things."

"Forget things?" He asked as he stepped to her. "Like what?"

"The love I have for you," she admitted as she avoided eye contact.

He felt his breath hitch. "Ah."

"Or perhaps," she spoke again, "That attacking a master swordsman is a bad idea."

He laughed. 

How easy she was to converse with, even when the two were so full of emotion. 

"Indeed," he smiled. He tried not to feel too much at the sight of her smile, no matter how teary eyed she was.

"I should have known better than that. Starks are honest and trustworthy. You are," she paused to finally look up at him, speaking each word slowly to show she truly meant it, "honest. And trustworthy."

"You mean that?"

"What? You'd rather me call you a brute again?" She teased. 

Gods, she was so captivating. 

He tilted his head in disbelief. "I don't think you would."

She took a step with each word as her grin only grew. "You mischievous. Little. Bru-"

His lips locked onto hers. 

They hadn't kissed since the wedding. It was so much better than he remembered it. So much sweeter. 

She took a moment to snap to, kissing him back equally. 

The two took in each other, hands wandering like never before. All of this tension had finally snapped, and neither were willing to part now that they'd had a taste. 

"Your house wor-"

She put a finger over his lips. "Who fucking cares?"

He grinned and pulled her hand away to kiss her again. 

Her fingers began to pull on his tunic, and only then did he snap to. He pulled away.

"Something wrong?"

He shook his head. "Gods, you're… you're a vision, but I can't. Not like this." He panted lightly as his gaze moved to the longsword he'd thrown on the desk. "Perhaps we do something else with our… stamina."

"Right," she said with a deep breath. "That's noble of you. Sparring will do us well, I'm sure. Just until this passes."

His cheeks heated. "And then?"

"I'm moving into your chambers within the fortnight."

She had said it so matter-of-factly that he wouldn't dare deny it to her. 

"Alright."

"Then I'll jump your bones, Cregan Stark."

His eyebrows shot up and he was sure he was a bright pink color at that point. 

She only smiled and stepped out of the room to dress for their spar.

…

"What was that." Swing. "You were saying." Swing. "About my house words?" Swing. 

He grinned as he blocked and then swung himself. "I was going to say." Swing. "That they might." Block. "Ring true." Swing.

Block. "How so?" Block.

Swing. "I fear you," he teased.

"You don't." Swing.

He chuckled. "You're right." Block. "I don't." Swing.

She managed to sidestep him, causing his momentum to shift with his sword. She took that time to step around and kick at the back of his knee, causing the man to fall to his knees. 

She bent down and tugged on his hair, exposing his neck as her other hand pulled her blade to rest gently against his neck.

He smiled widely. "But I fear for everyone else if they dare test you."

She placed a kiss to the side of his head, stepping away and letting the Wolf stand himself. 

"You're getting better," he commented as he moved to retrieve Ice.

"Or you're getting worse," she snickered. 

He pointed his blade at her with a teasing smirk. "You better watch yourself, Stark."

"Am I not a Bracken anymore?"

"No. No, hardly." He lowered his sword to step to her. He pulled her body against his. "I'm not sure you ever really were."

"How so?" She asked, trying not to get distracted by the proximity of his face to hers. 

"You're much more of a direwolf than a horse, don't you think? You bite much harder than most."

"How would you know that?"

He laughed. "Well, I intend to find out. Perhaps when I finally see you in my chambers."

She turned red. "If you weren't a lord, I'd-"

"-You'd what?" He taunted playfully.

She paused. "I'd take you in this courtyard."

He leaned in. "Who says you can't, Stark?"

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

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[tilbageidanmark]

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[wingedjellyfishflight]

Harem in Reverse

"You're soon to be 26, Your Royal Highness. You must put together your harem soon or risk being married off to whomever the regent chooses for you." You sigh, nodding in agreement. Choosing a direct husband would be against the rules, and frankly, you weren't interested in interviewing for the perfect man. Choosing many for their adherence to various qualities, though. That would be a good choice. "Shall I put forth a call for certain attributes? Strong arms? Large chest? Impressive intellect?"

"No, I want to review the troops this week. I will find my consorts among the best our nation has to offer." The advisor looks stunned.

"Your Royal Highness, those are rough men. They do not have the breeding or training to handle you gently as a consort should. They are-."

"Advisor Williams, I know what attributes I am looking for. Schedule me to review the best of the troops, then. If none catch my eye, then I will consider others." The advisor nods, frustrated at not being heeded, but knowing they must follow a direct order.

The following week, you are almost nervous while getting ready, the beginning of butterflies in your stomach. If you weren't so tired, you're sure it would be worse, but the night before was yet another attempt on your life. They are becoming more frequent and more violent now.

Sighing, you hurry to the courtyard where your mount, Rosebud, is waiting. A gift that you feel had been meant to be another threat on your life. The mount was no ordinary horse or pony. Instead, it was the largest draft mule you had ever seen. If you had treated him like a horse, you're sure the thing would have stomped within minutes. He was a vain creature who had to be sweet-talked and treated with utmost respect before he would agree to do much of anything. He was covered in whip and spur scars, telling anyone that he was difficult to force submission from, despite their best efforts. Not that you thought anyone could force an animal born of a mammoth jack donkey and a Shire horse to submit physically. You loved each and every scar, the signs of his stubborn nature on display for all to see.

"Hello, sweet boy." You greet him and let him snuffle you over, waving off the over eager stable hand. "May I ride you today? I am to inspect the troops." He blows a huff of air and turns his head away. You slide your hand along his proud neck and across his withers to the saddle. Checking it over, you deem it done well enough and climb on his back. Your legs spread wide across his broad barrel. Your advisors turn away, knowing that you will refuse their most strident pleas to ride sidesaddle.

"Let us inspect the troops." With that, the company is off at a quick walk to the parade grounds. Your group of advisors and the personal guard that you only marginally trust join the General and his entourage at the front of the formation. You strongly dislike the General. He is somehow the worst mix of ass kissing and condescending.

"The army is excited to be inspected this morning, Your Royal Highness." You barely manage to cover your snort. There is no way they are happy to be here standing in the sun to be inspected on your whim. You move from company to company, looking over the men and pointing out individuals to be inspected, but seeing none you would consider as consort. Reaching the special forces, the rabid dogs as your advisors refer to them, the General is incensed to see that the leader of one is missing.

"Where is the Captain? This is not an optional inspection!"

A man steps forward, "He was injured in a skirmish this week and is still confined to the hospital, General Argus." Looking over the group, you see several still sport bandages and healing abrasions. You nudge your mount closer, his ears perked forward in a match to your curiosity. The General apologizes to you for the disrespect of the men for not appearing but is cut off.

"Your Royal Highness. Escaping the hospital took longer than predicted. For that, I sincerely apologize." You turn, seeing a man limping toward the formation at a quick pace. This must be the Captain. As he falls in, you dismount your mule, resting your hand on his broad neck. Your personal guard hurriedly surrounds you, standing much too close. Rosebud takes exception to being crowded, ears flattening against his head. He strikes out like a snake. His teeth click just shy of the nearest man, who stumbles back yelling and unsheathes a sword. Without a thought, you draw your own ceremonial dagger.

"Touch one hair on Rosebud, and I will gut you." Everyone around you freezes before slowly backing away. "I will not be crowded by your incompetent forms when I am here to inspect the troops." They retreat from your anger, not wanting to risk you calling for their death. Rosebud drops his head, relaxing, and you absentmindedly rub his long ear the way he loves. His lip twitches and his eyes half close for a moment before he pulls away. You step forward, and Rosebud matches your pace, keeping his shoulder just behind yours. It took months to build up a relationship with him, and now he is putty in your hands most days.

An advisor tries to signal you to stay back, but you ignore them, your eyes on the men, looking for the best of them. You memorize the name of the Captain and another likely candidate, signaling Advisor Williams to your side. He groans but carefully walks to you, eyes locked on the increased alertness of Rosebud.

"I will have an audience with this Captain Price and Colonel König. As soon as the men are dismissed. In private." You walk forward and give a cursory inspection to the man who had spoken on the Captain's behalf. His uniform is impeccable, you are happy to see. You don't want them punished on your behalf. The smirk on his face beneath his mask sends a thrill through you. Another man who is not cowed by your station. That is important in advisors. Lieutenant Riley, his uniform says. You nod and mount Rosebud again, rejoining the pack of advisors to inspect the remaining troops. No others catch your eye.

Walking into your State room, you signal for everyone except the two soldiers to leave. While unusual, they are compelled to do so by your haughty glares and Advisor Williams guiding them away, barring the doors behind him and standing guard. Sitting in your throne, you drag your eyes over the men. Colonel König is wearing his customary face covering, and Captain Price has the cover he is well-known for in his hands.

"I have a proposal for you both that I want you to carefully consider. This proposal will not be spoken of again if you decline and it will not leave this room." The men perk up, and you see heat in their eyes as they consider one of the possibilities of your words. "I need advisors who are not advisors." That throws them off, and you see the Colonel shift uneasily. "These advisors would be the closest of any man or woman to me. They would teach and protect me with their very lives. My life is under threat and has been since the King and Queen died, my uncle taking over as Regent. I need advisors who will help me oust him and take my rightful place on the throne without contest and without raising his suspicions. Thus, I need men who will join my harem." You pause, savoring the way their faces change as they process this.

"Your Royal Highness, are you asking us to find you men to join your harem? That is most unusual, but we will do our best." You shake your head at Captain Price.

"Yes, but not in the way you are thinking. I am asking the two of you to join my harem and to advise me on the best men to round out such a harem. To be advisors and leaders in removing the despot from his fake throne. To be my lovers, spoiled in every way and to guard me from all attempts on my life. I want you both, and I trust you to choose others and to bring them to me for approval. If you decline this position, we shall never speak on it again."

"Yes, I would be honored to be chosen for your harem, Your Royal Highness." Colonel König does not hesitate to agree. He feels he has loved you from afar for years, and this is an opportunity he will not squander.

"I would be as well, Your Royal Highness." Captain Price is confident that declining now would be a mistake, and he is not a man prone to mistakes. "I have a few men in mind that would be good additions. They are a bit of a package deal." You nod, expecting as much.

"Their names?"

"John MacTavish, Simon Riley and Kyle Garrick, Your Royal Highness."

"I have two in mind that would be good choices as well. Hiro Watanabe and Kim Hong-jin. They are foreign, but good, loyal and strong men, Your Royal Highness."

The smile you bestow them with is almost a surprise to the men. "Then, I wish for you to gather your men and their belongings. You will join me tonight, my consorts."

"Yes, Your Royal Highness." The men bow and leave, stunned at the way this meeting has gone. You order Advisor Williams to prepare the harem quarters and pack your own belongings secretly. It would be folly to live apart from the men who will be your new private guard and you would be lying if you weren't excited to see under those perfectly done uniforms.

[donatellawritings]

Rafe giving reader the silent treatment 🫢🫢🫢

ugh writing this made me scream - he’s so mean

you’d taken your spoiled brat act a bit too far — you see, rafe could handle your entitled pout, the dramatic eyerolls, maybe even some backtalk, if he’d been having a good day, but watching you pathetically flirt with some random server at the country club as means to get your way? absolutely fucking not. in fact, rafe was so upset with you that he simply shut down, remaining silent as he forced himself to mentally check out of the situation, before he could allow himself to lash out on you. you didn’t realize just how serious rafe was, until he wordlessly stood up from his seat, his jaw tight as he made his way towards the parking lot, leaving you to pathetically trail behind him, your dior mules clicking against the pavement as you struggled to maintain the same pace as your silent boyfriend.

“wait, rafe — i can’t walk that fast in these,” you whined, your words falling flat to rafe’s ears as he continued walking towards his black pickup truck. your stomach sunk to your ankles as your glossy lips suddenly grew dry. a pang of guilt fluttered across your chest, guilty tears glazing over your doe eyes — you knew that you had made a big fuck up.

the car ride back to tannyhill was eerily quiet, the sound of the whipping winds seeping through the cracked open windows being the only source of noise that filled the truck. rafe was too quiet, too calm — you braced yourself for him to either never speak to you again, or have a meltdown that would result in you getting your feelings hurt. there was a small part of you that wanted to crawl onto rafe’s lap and apologize profusely, peppering sticky kisses all over his face, until he forgave you, but you knew that he needed to work out his emotions on his own. rafe kept his bright blues trained on the road, throughout the duration of the car ride, his shoulders and arms tense as he uncomfortably maintained a tight grip on the steering wheel, his knuckles straining against the skin of his hand.

with a defeated huff, rafe exited the truck, leaving you to make your own way into the house as you quickly sniffled back a threatening cry. you carefully closed the passenger door to the truck, adjusting the hem of your denim skirt as you walked into the house, your french-manicured fingers loosely hooked around the strap of your chanel wristlet as your heels clicked against the polished hardwood flooring.

goosebumps ran across the exposed skin of your arms and legs as your eyes fell on rafe who stood in the kitchen, holding a glass of water to his pink lips as he keeps his eyes focused away from yours, with a pout, you approach him, “papi, please talk to me,” you began, reaching your small hand to softly grab his arm, flinching as he snatches his toned arm away from you with an unamused frown.

you really fucked up.

with your doe eyes now fully blown with panic, you allowed a few tears to escape your waterline, “rafe, i-i shouldn’t have tal-talked to him and i promise i won’t do it agai-” you began, your tearful voice breaking into a squeak as the shrill of rafe’s cellphone ringing cut into your ramble. your bottom lip quivered as rafe accepted the phone call, bringing the phone to his ear as he made his way to the backyard. once you were alone in the kitchen, you let out a frustrated sob, before kicking your heels off, immediately picking them up as you stomped upstairs to your shared bedroom with rafe.

this behavior from rafe continued well into the evening, his decision to sit in his office, instead of sitting with you on his lap overlooking the sunset, leaving you a remorseful mess. dressed in your plush white robe, you sat on the balcony, the cool evening breeze soothing your sore, over-cried eyes. your knees were curled into your chest as you leaned your head against the cushion that adorned the loveseat, taking a short breath as you aimlessly watched the skies turn from a bright orange, to a deep blue.

part of you wished that rafe would lash out at you, maybe even roughhouse you a bit, anything. anything was better than the bitter silence and dismissal that you currently endured. silence gave you room to think, and it was never a good idea to give you too much room to think and leave your brain overworked. rafe knew this, he knew you, so much so that he needed you to feel even a fraction of the intense anger-fueled confusion that your careless and childish actions had brought upon him. he was a grown man who had made it his business to build a life for both you and him, so he felt disrespected by you, and that’s what hurt him the most.

a shaky breath of exhausted left your parted lips as yet another impending onslaught of tears clouded your vision. your delicate fingers fiddled with your chain, acrylic nails clashing with the diamond ‘R’ pendant that hung from the dainty chain. quickly pressing the palms of your hands to your dampened eyes, you wiped your tears, before you stood on your feet, your soles padding against the hardwood floor as you hurried towards rafe’s office.

carefully stepping inside of the dimly lit office, you observed quietly as rafe’s face glowed from the brightness of his laptop. he knew that you were standing right before him, but he was stubborn and petty — he was not going to acknowledge you, not yet, at least. his dressy and proper clothes had been swapped out for a plain t-shirt and jeans.

with a squeaky cry, you crouched beside rafe’s chair, tears rolling down your flushed cheeks, “m’sorry, papi, i just want you to talk to me,” you hiccuped pathetically, your voice barely raising past a faint whisper as rafe laid back in his chair, decidedly silent as he lazily typed. “pl-please, say something,” you whined, leaning your chin against the arm of the chair, your usually beaming eyes, dulled by your sad tears. you wanted to reach out and grab rafe, but you knew that his volatile temper could be brought out with any small action.

you remained in this position for a few more minutes, swallowing down the lump in your throat as you searched rafe’s bloodshot eyes for any sign of resolve. coming up empty, you stood up on your bare feet, watching as rafe continued to mindlessly type away and scroll on his laptop, “i love you,” you spoke softly, quickly pressing your pillowy lips to rafe’s temple, before he could pull away from you.

again met with silence, a small part of your heart shattering as your shoulders slumped in defeat. your feet padded against the floor as you turned to walk away from rafe as his hand grabbed your wrist, his eyes glazed over as he parted his lips to speak, “y’try that shit again, and i’ll fuckin’ knock you out,” he warned, his tone low and sleepy as he brought his hand to the back of your neck, lowering your face down to his, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “i love you, too,” he added, his body visibly relaxing as you climbed into his lap.

wordlessly, you eagerly pressed a wet and noisy kiss to rafe’s lips, letting out a satisfied moan as rafe laid his hand against your poked out butt, softly patting in approval as you were suddenly overcome with sleepiness, your head falling to his shoulder as your sore and tired eyes fluttered closed. rafe craned his neck back, taking in the way your swollen lips parted as you dozed off into a deep sleep.

“fuckin’ spoiled.”

[mulemasters]

MuleSoft MMC

MuleSoft Mule Management Console (MMC) is a web-based administrative tool used for managing Mule ESB (Enterprise Service Bus) deployments. MMC provides a comprehensive interface to monitor, manage, and troubleshoot Mule applications.

Key Features of MuleSoft MMC

Deployment Management:

Manage application deployments across different environments (development, testing, production).

Version control for applications, allowing rollback to previous versions if needed.

Monitoring and Alerting:

Real-time monitoring of Mule applications, servers, and flows.

Set up alerts for various performance metrics and error conditions to proactively address issues.

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Centralized management of multiple Mule ESB servers.

Start, stop, and restart servers or individual applications from the console.

Application Management:

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Debug and troubleshoot issues using the integrated logging and error tracking features.

Security and Access Control:

Role-based access control to ensure only authorized users can perform certain actions.

Integration with existing authentication systems for user management.

Analytics and Reporting:

Generate detailed reports on application performance, usage patterns, and system health.

Use historical data to identify trends and optimize resource usage.

Example Use Case

Imagine you have a Mule application deployed across several environments. With MMC, you can:

Deploy the latest version of your application to all environments with a few clicks.

Monitor application performance in real-time, setting up alerts for any unusual activity or errors.

Manage server resources efficiently, ensuring high availability and optimal performance.

Analyze performance data to understand usage patterns and plan for future capacity.

Best Practices

Regular Monitoring: Regularly check the MMC to ensure all applications and servers are running smoothly. Set up automated alerts for critical metrics.

Backup Configurations: Keep backups of your server configurations and application versions to quickly recover from any issues.

Security Audits: Periodically review user access levels and audit logs to maintain security and compliance.

Resource Optimization: Use analytics reports to optimize resource allocation and plan for scaling based on application load and usage trends.

Conclusion

MuleSoft MMC is a powerful tool for managing and monitoring Mule applications, providing a centralized platform for deployment, monitoring, and server management. By leveraging its features, organizations can ensure their Mule ESB deployments are running efficiently, securely, and with minimal downtime.