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madelynraemunson · 6 months ago

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NEED…MORE…EX-HUSBAND!EDDIE…I AM FERAL AND FOAMING AT THE MOUTH PLEASE BLESS US MORE I’M BEGGING

IT’S ANGST O’CLOCK!!!

𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 (𝐬𝐨 𝐢 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠)

ex husband! eddie x fem!reader

“all that still matters is ‘love ever after’ — after the life we’ve been through” — life after you // daughtry

WC: ~950 words

3AM. The witching hour.

The air smells of twilight musk and marinating dew. It's pitch black all around you, the nearest gas station being an agonizing 1.3 miles away. You're also 10 miles from Hawkins, pulled over in nothing but platform heels, a black mini dress, and expired pepper spray in your purse. To make matters worse, the only friends up who seem to be up at this hour are hungry bears and obnoxious, chirping crickets. And skinwalkers if you're where you think you are.

A horrible ending to a girls night out. Just what you needed.

Alone and afraid, you decide to call the number one person on speed dial, whose gradual distaste towards you renders itself very evident from the moment he answers the phone.

"What?! I'm trying to sleep."

"Eds." you whimper into the phone. "I need you."

There's a long pause in response to your petrified sobs, followed by the clicking noise of a phone keyboard before you hear cursing and the frantic ruffling of sheets.

"I’ll be there."

"Well?"

You watch as Eddie crinkles his forehead in concentration, examining your car while his soot-tainted hands explore every crevice of your hood. Routine maintenance has never been as issue because you've always had a personal mechanic at your feet. But since the divorce, you've gotten pretty bad about it. Otherwise, the you and Eddie wouldn't be stuck in this situation. Obviously.

"Weeelp." Eddie sighs, stretching out every bit of the syllable. He slams the hood shut. "She's just about blown out. You're lucky that thing didn't overheat too much with you in it."

You've prided yourself in not needing a man to change your tires, wiper fluid, OR oil nowadays. But in the midst of your journey towards self love and independence, you somehow forgot that your car could also overheat.

"Oh..”

You try not to watch intently as Eddie cleans his hands off with his hanky, the one he keeps neatly tucked into the back pocket of his flattering dark, denim jeans. Your eyes then trail towards his leather jacket, which housed his broad shoulders and delicious waist so nicely, you would've thought it had been tailored just for him. And you could just about fall right into him when he angles his torso towards you, his sculpted jawline glistening in the moonlight — but nearly not as glistening as those gorgeous chocolate eyes, the ones he used to his advantage during your marriage to get you to forgive him for whatever mistake he seemed to make that week. Before you could fawn any further, Eddie snaps you back to reality.

"When was the last time you put some coolant in this thing?"

"Some what?"

"You keep Prestone at the house?" Eddie pesters. "Antifreeze? Peak?"

Cheeks reddening, you shake your head. "No.”

"You get this thing examined often?"

“Not unless you do it," is what you shamefully admit. “For the most part…”

Eddie's face scrunches out of frustration. He knew this would happen.

"God, I hate when you do shit like this," he snaps. "For all I know your engine light could've been on for weeks."

"But it wasn't." you mutter softly. You're already scared. This is the last thing you need.

"You know your car in particular needs to be serviced every half year?" Eddie mutters. "Oil changes, tire rotations. Your break pads have also seen better days. Which is concerning."

"Ok.”

"And how many times do I have to say you gotta pay attention to this fucking radiator?!" Eddie hisses, slapping at the hood again with his open palm. You shudder at the loud *THUNK* noise that echoes across the woods. "We wouldn't be out here in 3AM if you had just taken proactive measures.”

"Stop YELLING at me!" you whine, a piece of your inner child spewing outwards to combat Eddie's belligerent word vomit.

"I'm not yelling." Eddie firmly insists.

He turns his back to you and starts towards your car again.

"Yes, you are, you always do." you croak miserably, balling your fists up in frustration. “You always do Eddie, and I'm sick of it! You always want to be right, and you always kick me when I'm already down to-"

“Okay, okay, okay." Eddie hushes you. He runs a frantic hand through his hair. "Agh, fuck, okay — I’m sorry.”

He looks at you with guilty, glimmering eyes as you shift your body away from him. Guarded, tense. Closing up all access of you towards him because he lost those rights a long time ago. Muttering to himself now, Eddie scrapes at the pebbles beneath his feet, fiddling with the chain of his wallet before he dares to speak to you again.

"I just worry about you a lot."

You peer back over at him. "Deadass?"

He snorts. "Well yeah."

With your permission Eddie stalks closer to you.

"I don't want to wake up to a phone call talking about my wife's car bursting into flames — with her inside." He rolls his eyes. “All because she hasn't been maintaining her shit.”

"I have been," you fib just a bit, though most of it rings true. just forgot to iron out some little details."

Eddie relaxes his shoulders.

"I know," he surrenders. “I guess there's a part of me that secretly hopes you'll still need me somehow. Some way, or another."

"I'll always need your presence," you reassure him.

Your ex husband softens up. He always thought that during your separation you had found another Superman to save the day. Some other handsome devil to fix your car and maintain all the leaky faucets inside your once shared home. But as you've always insisted, nobody has your back like Eddie. Your very own George Reeves. At your disposal for you and you only.

He suddenly wraps his arms around you, and as you predicted you ease right into him, the comfort and familiarity of Eddie melting away any ounce of hostility you guys have ever harbored against each other. You both have your days, but the love you two have for each other has always remained the same. Just changed form, is all.

"I'm glad you're okay," is all he says.

'I'm glad you're here," you sniff. "Always playing hero, per usual..."

"Well for you, always."

He plants a gentle kiss on top of your forehead as you two sway around in unison. You hum to showcase your endearment.

And he'd do it again.

———

🏷️ tagging peeps who seemed interested in this lil universe 🫶🏼✨ thank you guys for reading :)

@highinmiamiii @potatobeans99 @mediocredreams @joshlmbrt @eddiesxangel @enam3l @mmunson86 @davidblowies-blog @thatissonnina @oskea93 @aurora-austen @lesservillain @madeofmunson @xxbimbobunnyxx @eddiesghxst @munsonssweets @nailbatanddungeon @swiss-mrs @winchester-angel @belokhvostikova @curlyjoequinn @strangereads @marrowfrog00 @shadyunknowncreation @tuolcaniacoc @catherinnn @prestinalove @pleuviors @cinemabean @calumfmu @littlexdeaths

#maddy’s mailbox ✨#blurb #eddie munson blurb #ex husband!eddie munson #Eddie munson x reader #ex husband!eddie x reader #ex husband!eddie munson x reader

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macmay · 9 months ago

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casualsnickers · 6 months ago

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Month of Emmet Quick Write #3

Prompt #3: Battle

It's a bit peculiar that Subway Master Emmet wears white all the time. The commuters just think it's a 'twins' thing- the depot agents know better. In other words, Emmet's tailor hates him.

*Inspired directly by @kobandan. Their comic for day two absolutely activated the few neurons in my noggin.

Read the whole thing below the cut.

Wrappers crunched. Small talk and loud chatter alike filtered in and out of the office as footsteps echoed on the polished linoleum.

“C’mon Ingo! Relax a little!” From within her chair right beside Ingo, Elesa reached across the table into the takeout bag, pulling out a handful of loose fries. “You know, there’s a concert that’s gonna be happening in Virbank this weekend,” she hummed, taking a sip of her drink. “The one with that singer that you liked back when we were teenagers. What’s his name again? Piers, I think? And then you got Emmet into it too!” Elesa then brightened. “I know! You should come with me! Both of you guys! I have extra tickets and I think it would be nice- to reintroduce you to that kind of stuff.” Elesa playfully nudged Ingo in the ribs with her elbow. “A fun little bonding activity~ Well? Come on. What do you think, Go-Go?

“A…band? Ah, but aren’t musical concerts quite… loud?” Ingo replied hesitantly. It had been some time since he had returned from Hisui and he had found that the modern world was… well, to put it mildly, ‘loud’ would be an understatement. The Battle Subway was loud enough- Ingo often found himself making a beeline to his and Emmet’s office to recover from the mental strain of working in such a vivacious environment. But he found himself warming up to the idea more and more as his friend enthusiastically elaborated, taking small bites out of the ‘loaded burger’ that Elesa had so quickly jumped to buy for him.

At that moment, the door to the main office clattered open. Boots clicked on linoleum. Fabric shuffled. Keys jangled.

In strode Emmet, a massive grin on his face as he closed the office door with one foot, hanging his hat on the stand and ripping off his gloves. Upon seeing both Ingo and Elesa leaning up against one another, the man practically beamed. He opened his mouth to speak. Elesa beat him to the punch.

“Em... Honey... Sweetheart. What in dragons’ name happened to you?” Elesa immediately set down her food but made no attempt to rise, leaning back in her chair with a disgusted expression as she gave the man a slow once-over. “Your clothes!” The woman then stiffened, crossing her arms. “Tell me you didn’t go and service another engine with your battling gear. You have a bad habit of forgetting to change.”

“I. Did not!” Emmet pulled off his subway coat and half-fell into an empty spinning chair, picking his feet up as his chair rocketed into the wall. He then pushed himself over to his desk and eagerly pulled over his stack of maintenance documents. “This isn’t oil. It’s dust. Soot. Ash.”

Emmet’s entire outfit- his usual sparkling white slacks, jacket, hat, and dress shoes- each were stained and smudged with varying levels of grime, each atrocious and each downright offensive. His hat and slacks were splashed in sickly purples and greens, speckled black patches like soot decorating his shoes and slack edges. His jacket had numerous holes in the tail end as though a dragon-type had gnawed on it and a few buttons had either been torn close to falling off or were gone entirely. A massive chunk of Emmet’s hat- including the Gear Station insignia pin- were just completely gone, exposing the stuffing and the nylon inside.

Even Emmet’s standard black dress shirt and gloves were completely ruined. The starched collar and sleeves of Emmet’s shirts had what looked to be bleach spots on them, one of his shirt tails completely untucked and shredded to bits. His black gloves were almost completely white to the fingertips, the leather around the knuckles- concertedly- missing as if cleanly taken out with a hole punch.

Emmet didn’t look the least concerned that half of the skin along his arms and a section of his leg were completely visible, instead seeming to enjoy the attention as he tapped his foot against the tile. His own hair- messy and half-alive with static, was blown backward as if Emmet had decided to go skydiving for the first portion of his shift.

Ingo raised an eyebrow. An inkling of his mind raised the question that he wasn’t nearly as concerned for his brother as he should’ve been. As if it was something to be expected and just as easily tolerated. “You are unusually chipper for a man that’s filthy and practically indecent,” Ingo murmured, locking eyes with Emmet who leaned his head against his hand lazily. “You look as though you’ve crawled through the insides of an unmaintained tender.” Ingo took a long swig from his drink, narrowing his eyes. “Slept in one, too.”

Emmet smirked. “You’re one to talk. The water ran black when you were reintroduced to modern plumbing,” he drawled, still staring unflinchingly into Ingo’s eyes. “You thought being dirty was normal. And you were covered in actual, literal dirt.”

Ingo immediately felt his face heat up. “That is not the point here!” he claimed, not quite meeting Emmet’s eyes as he crossed his arms. “Why do you look as though you’ve strapped yourself to the tracks and let numerous trains run over you?”

Elesa snorted, almost choking on her drink. Her entire face went flush as she began laughing. “That’s one way to put it, Iggs!”

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Elesa” Emmet chided, his own face beginning to redden as he scooted his chair purposefully away from the two of them. “That is not what happened.”

“Would you care to explain then, Emmet?”

Emmet grinned before unclipping his pokémon belt and setting it on the desk for both Elesa and Ingo to see. Almost every single pokéball was in the same state of disrepair: burn marks, scrapes, dents, and dings in each one. “A verrry powerful trainer visited my line today!” Emmet beamed. “They arrived with a looot of super strong pokémon! It was very cool! They brought friends! A lot of strong friends! It was fantastic!” Emmet then hunkered down into himself, bringing his shaking hand to his chin as he snatched up a loose piece of paper, frantically scribbling down barely legible words. “I should remember that. ‘Follow Me’ on a bulky pokémon- preferably attached with a defense-boosting item or maybe leftovers. Skill Link Ability pokémon with a Rocky Helmet maybe? Or perhaps Loaded Dice would be better?”

“Okay, so your battle was crazy,” Elesa interjected, carefully but concertedly scanning the massive amounts of damage in Emmet’s outfit. “But how did your clothes get so bad? What’d you do? Stand in front of your pokémon while they were fighting?”

Ingo involuntarily snorted, struggling to conceal his laughter after remembering that his good friend Dawn used to perform that exact same scenario when they were still in Hisui- to psych out the few wielders that existed. That or just mess about. Ingo could perfectly imagine Emmet doing the same right in front of his Eelektross.

“Overheat,” Emmet started, pointing to the massive burn streaks staining his shoes. “Acid Spray.” Another gesture to his heavily bleached shirt. “Bug Buzz.” The torn threads in his shirt. “Discharge.” Another pointed finger at the torn fabric on his jacket sleeves. “The battle was verrry serious! So much fun! They used all kinds of new strategies that I haven’t seen before! They brought a bunch of new pokémon! Them and their friends! There were six of them!” Emmet exclaimed, his grin growing wider and wider as he rocked back-and-forth in his chair, causing the frame to squeak. “Each one stronger and smarter than the last!”

“Did you at least win, Em?” Elesa asked tiredly. “You better have. Getting all that fixed is gonna cost a pretty penny.”

Emmet’s grin almost stretched across his face as he fully leaned back in his chair. “All six of them won against me! Just barely! It was the most fun I’ve had in months! I hope they return to the Super Doubles Line soon so that I can battle them again!”

“Wait. The Super Doubles Line?” Elesa clarified. “As in, the ‘challenging trainer usually gets obliterated by the seventh car’ Doubles Line? The ‘nothing but depot agents’ Doubles Line? The- ”

“You can just say that you haven’t prevailed on those particular tracks,” Ingo teased, stealing the rest of the spare fries at the bottom of the bag. “I would never presumably figure out that a record exists of how many times you have been ejected from the Super Singles, Doubles, and Multi Lines. And I would certainly- never- look at those records.” Ingo then blinked innocently at Elesa as he scooted his chair just the tiniest inch away from the woman who looked as though she were about to strangle him.

“You do not have a record!”

“We do!” Emmet replied snappily. “All trainers have their battle facility records locked onto their IDs. It is not hard to find.”

“Nevermind. You’re being overly ominous again and we’re not going down that road. But the Super Doubles Line? Wow. Must’ve been some kind of monsters to get all the way through- the six of them in one day- just to destroy you… You had fun?”

“Yyyup!”

“What on earth are you guys feeding the Depot Agents on your supers lines anyway?” Elesa groaned, pointedly asking Ingo instead of Emmet who had begun to whizz through his papers. “I tried getting through once- way too strong for me.”

“We feed them coal slag and commuter debris,” Ingo answered with a stoic face, crumbling up the wrapper of his burger and tossing it in the nearby trash can. “Food wrappers. Plastic. Newspapers. Chewing gum. Some rust scraps off of repaired engines prevent any potential iron deficiencies.”

“Ah, but you are forgetting grease, Ingo,” Emmet chimed in. “Grease- Curve rail grease is essential for a depot agent’s balanced diet. That and stripped screws. And maybe a healthy serving of handrail and seat sweat.”

“Eugh. You guys are absolute loons,” Elesa responded without missing a beat, fully leaning against Ingo as the woman took a joking picture of Emmet in his atrocious work attire looking completely unbothered. She then sent the picture to Skyla unprompted. “You know, I’ve never seen someone so happy to have lost six times in a row at their place of work,” Elesa commented snidely under her breath. “Did you at least steal some pointers from them like you usually do, Em?”

At that, Emmet whipped out a small, battered notepad from his coat pocket, eagerly showing off the multitudes upon multitudes of detailed battling graphs, paragraphs of messy handwriting, and heavily highlighted sections. “I did! And now! I want to recruit more pokémon to the team!” He said it more to himself than to Elesa or Ingo, pulling open his desk drawer in order to pull out a thick, heavily-banded book that looked close to bursting.

“Oh sweet dragons above- you’re pulling out Ol’ Reliable, Em? What’s the occasion? Gonna make some more abridgements? Honestly, you should just have the library make a copy- that’s a whole concrete brick right there.”

“Says the woman with five hand-banded design template books twice the size in her house,” Emmet snarked back, struggling to open the cover of his tome. “Let’s see. Eenie, meenie, miney… huh. That’s odd.”

“What’s the matter?” Ingo asked, taking a massive bite out of his second burger. He was quick to wipe the sauce off of his cheek. “What are you looking for?”

“Foreign pokémon.” Emmet then paused, scowling before stowing the book away back under his desk, crossing his arms. “Foreign pokémon,” he grunted. “Abilities. I don’t know the abilities of the pokémon I battled against today. I don’t even remember what the names of the species are.”

“Emmet. You do realize that the Battle Subway collects and archives trainer data during registration, don’t you?” Ingo piped up. “The free connectivity to the C-Gear? To Entralink? To the recommended vs recorder? You were the one to tell me that all trainers must register their preferred pokémon with an attendant before they even so much as board a subway car. Unless perhaps… you did forget about that particular clause…?”

Emmet was out of his seat in a moment’s notice, the seams in his shirt beginning to splinter and pop apart as the man shoved his hat back onto his head and grabbed his jacket off of the hook, marching squarely over toward the office door. “Be back soon. Next destination: the attendant’s desk.” The door slammed shut after him.

A moment passed by before Elesa once again reached across the table and pulled out a carton of onion rings alongside Emmet’s burger that he hadn’t even touched. “I call dibs.”

“Absolutely not. I paid for those.”

#pokemon #pokémon #monthofemmet #monthofemmet2024 #submas #emmet #subway master emmet #subway boss emmet

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keyrey · 5 months ago

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Jujutsu Kaisen characters & Industrial revolution (AU) Pt.1 – Nanami Kento POV, the hopeless blacksmith. A multi part series.

I fear the time has come when my work has become rendered useless by the people, and I am unappreciated simply because I am 'less' than a machine. Yes, I may produce 'less,' but what I 'lost,' people used to gain in value and sentimentality. The Industrial Revolution, lasting around 80 years, significantly reduced the demand for hand-made goods and services such as tailoring, irrigation, and sword-making, which happens to be Nanami's specialty. (Check your history and economics textbooks, kids.) During this period, most blacksmiths were deemed ‘redundant,’ as replacing items when broken became more reasonable and cheaper than repairing them. Yet in the quiet, these sacred skills persisted, anticipating every moment, counting down its return to the world.

I fear the silence has enraptured me, drenching my soul to the thousandth degree.

My eyes darted around the room, taking in the sight of tools strewn around the mountain of unfinished projects. The decline of clients sapped my motivation and the acrid flames from the crucibles dusted my nostrils in a haze of ash. I walked towards the chair at the other side of the room that had served me well all these years, its wooden frame as worn as my spirit. Stuck in this monotony of life. I traced my fingers over the well-worn instruments, their familiarity a stark contrast to the world of chaos beyond these four walls that I’ve surrounded myself in. I wonder how long I can hold on.

The clang of metal on metal, the hiss of steam, and the heat of the forge used to be the heartbeat. Now, a deafening silence enraptured the place like a heavy cloak, broken only by the distant humming of automated machinery. As times change, I struggle with doubts, even within myself, questioning the longevity of my lifestyle. If I wish to retire, I must adapt to the times and conform to the ebb and flow of humanity.

I have found something to busy myself with, assisting the locals in their financial decisions, though my own, in turn, have been questionable. As I watched them, their careful budgeting and pragmatic choices struck me. Each decision they made, each penny saved and spent wisely, seemed to carry a weight of survival that I could only admire from afar. Farmers transition to tractors, coachmen to bus drivers, caterpillars to butterflies. Am I falling behind?

As I attempted to clear my weary head, I observed the jasmine I planted long ago had found the courage to bravely spread its vines, tangling itself in the depths of the rusty metal trellis perched against the bricked wall. Meanwhile, my osmanthus and chrysanthemum have taken their final drops of water, signaling the end of my tea supply. Even my possessions seem to be slipping away.

Laughs and giggles echo regularly from the speakeasy across the street, where actors, actresses, singers and dancers gather, filling the bar with a reservoir of talent. A reminder of how I used to live, on a hunt for fame and popularity. I had succeeded once, too. The crackling timbre of gravel against tires revealed a car, sleek and shiny, its engine purring like a contented predator. I expected it to pass by like all the others, yet its passengers bearing gold and medallions happened to be seeking a temporary escape. I don’t like to admit it, however, I used to be like that once.

I still remember when I received my first paycheck. I got cocky, lazy, unknowing of the repercussions that lied beyond the surface. Blinded by the allure of fame. How my father’s blacksmithing passion burned in the ashes right before my eyes, how he disappeared from the face of the earth, not remembering the name of his own son.

The door swung open, and a polished shoe touched the pavement with deliberate grace. Slowly, he emerged, straightening to his full height, his tailored suit catching the light just right. His eyes, hidden behind dark circular sunglasses, stood tall as if he owned the world—or was about to. His pearly white locks swayed with the gentle gusts of wind. His peculiar outfit left no room for misinterpretation, reminding me of a secret society member, those in the Edo period from way back when. Three consecutive knocks interrupted my pensive train of thought. Clearly, the man hadn’t seen the ‘closed’ sign on the door. I silently screw myself for only writing the text in Danish. “I am closed, go home, Gojo.”

I knew him, mostly as the piercing icy blue eyed man who had been loitering around the shop for three days in a row now. I half expected him to add to the collection of the ‘no swords, no shields’ signs that were attached on the notice post by hammer and nail. Ever since the mass blacksmith boycott, he found an opportunity to speak out against the ‘old school’ way of fighting, promoting ‘Jujutsu Sorcery’ as an alternative. I had considered it once, learning how to harness this ability to visualize cursed spirits that I was entrusted with, but I try to ignore them as best as possible due to bad experiences on the field in my younger years.

The Jujutsu corporate world holds far too much ambiguity as we were blind to laboring in pyramid schemes. Just stooges to a bigger picture. Much to my dismay, the green glasses I wear are not only for blacksmithing but also for avoiding eye contact with dehumanized figures of various colors, shapes and sizes. They also irritatingly slide down my nose bridge.

"Sir Nanami! I'd love to have your expertise back in the wondrous field of Jujutsu training. I've got- I mean, I have acquired three new recruits who would benefit from your mentoring."

Despite our history, his tone carried a forced formality. It was a sound that echoed from a child's mouth—squeaky and awkward—from behind the door.

"M-Mister Nanami?" The voice stuttered. I heard Gojo's quiet instructions to the kid, coaching him on what to do next. An eager student, I mused to myself. "Look at this!" His fists glowed with luminescent streaks of black and blue, untamed cursed energy. I couldn't deny it was the start of something unique. This pink haired, pure spirited boy that Gojo had brought in... he was unlike the others.

“Gojo, you don’t understand. I have a life here. Depleting or not, it’s my duty to remain.” I argued, coming up with every reason to deny his offer. Though he seemed to know that I have no sufficient meaning to stay here.

“Nanami, I-” Gojo interjected. Suddenly, a loud crash reverberated through the shop as Yuji’s cursed energy surged uncontrollably, knocking over a shelf of tools. My senses heightened immediately, recognizing the distinct energy signature. This was not just an accident. The outside air grew heavy with a palpable tension, as if the atmosphere itself was holding its breath. I glanced at Gojo, who was already on alert, his playful demeanor replaced by a serious intensity.

“What did you do, kid?” I asked Yuji, my voice calm but edged with urgency.

“I-I don’t know!” Yuji stammered, eyes wide with panic. “I think I might have accidentally triggered something…”

Before he could finish, the ground beneath us rumbled, and a low, menacing growl echoed from outside. A wave of cursed energy, darker and more malevolent than anything I had felt in years, washed over us.

“Get ready,” Gojo muttered, his eyes flickering with anticipation. “It’s here.”

Reflexes honed from years of experience kicked in. I grabbed my blunt sword, its blade wrapped in bandages. In a fluid motion, I positioned myself in front of Yuji and Gojo, my protectiveness kicking in instinctively. No matter the level of skill the two had, I will always put myself at the forefront.

"Sorcery never goes away from your body," I thought, the weight of the moment grounding me. "It's your prerogative to use it in times of need or hide it away. And for the first time in years, I have chosen the former."

The door shuddered under a heavy blow, and I braced myself. The silence before the storm had ended.

And this is merely the beginning.

👏End of Part one 👏 Goodness, that was a wild ride, I'm almost sad to be leaving y'all on a cliffhanger like this! Hope my second ever fan fiction was enjoyable.

Thank you to my beta readers: Panda and JuwelPK! Part two coming soon. Coming from the POV of Yuji Itadori.

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skybrushus · 5 months ago

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Lyra signaled and then turned right off of Sea Stallion Drive in my Royal Equestria Security Forces (RESF) dreamscape. Bon Bon routinely checked the car's navigation system and watched through car's window right side window as the character of the city change before her eyes.

As they drove away from main downtown thoroughfare of Ft. Trotterdale they left behind swanky shops, upscale restaurants, and fashionable new apartments and townhouses tailored to the young business executives. Just a couple blocks further and they were passing through older working class neighborhoods. Beyond them lay the older apartments, shops, cafes, and dormitories that surrounded the university. Journeying further brought them into a vast sprawling maze of light industrial, truck yards,warehouses, and eventually the commercial docks of the city. It was around 7pm but being it was summertime there was still a far bit light in the sky as Celestia had not entirely relinquished her reign for the day.

There final destination was small, dingy, two-story office building that was probably 60 years old and hadn't seen a fresh coat of paint in 20. Decades of diesel smoke, factory emission, tropical sun, rain, and general neglect had left the building's exterior color rather indeterminate.

Normally during the day this area was abuzz with activity, but it was the early evening on a Friday and most businesses, and their workers, were now closed and vacated. Only one window at their destination showed any light and possible occupancy. Lyra pulled around to the back employee parking area. Letting the car coast to lessen the rumble of its V8. There was only one other vehicle parked in the covered parking area. Bon Bon squinted at license plate on the squat, subcompact. Like the building it was parked under, Ft. Trotterdale's climate had not been kind to its. Faded red paint, speckles of rust on the body panels, and sun bleached plastic trim told the story of its daily toils.

Bon Bon checked a note on her phone and looked at the license plate again. "Yep. That's Fast Talk's current car. Lyra shut the engine off looked over at her partner. "Well now that we've found him lets pay him a visit. What passes for the cleaning service isn't suppose to show up until 9pm. That should give us a chance to have a nice chat with him!"

As they exited the vehicle Bon Bon reached down under the back seat and pulled out short barrel, 12ga, pump-action shotgun from its locking, concealed rack. Calling it a sawed off would disrespectful of the care that had gone into modifying and customizing it. Quietly her and Lyra closed the car's doors. As they did the car's paint scheme seemed to shimmer for just an instant as the vehicle's security wards activated.

Both were amused to find that the physical lock and the supposed security wards for Employees Only stairwell were inactive. Before entering the stairwell both mares pulled their RESF badges out and hung them from their belts. Then each they donned a pair of wraparound glasses that shimmered as several wards on them went live.

They'd dealt with Fast Talk numerous times and the stallion was mostly bluster. However some of the company he associated with were another matter. So out of an abundance of caution Bon Bon went first. Slowly and quietly she ascended the stairs while keeping the shotgun in a low ready position. At the top of the stairway a fluorescent light fixture flickered spastically. Carefully the earth pony peeked around the corner and let her eyes sweep over the hallway. The glasses showed no signs of camouflaged individuals or wards. Although the door knob of office in question did sparkled with a low grade form of ward. Bon Bon used her right hand to make series of signals to Lyra.

Thumbs up. Hallway is clear. Cupping her hand and making a series rotating motions followed by a wiggling of the fingers. Door is closed. Probably locked. Is warded.

The two mares softly treaded up to the door. From under it a thin sliver of light leaked out and the muffled sounds of a radio broadcasting some sporting event could be heard coming from within. Lyra knelt down next to the door knob and gently placed a one-use paper ward breaker on the door next to the knob. The mint green unicorn thumbed the safety off of her pistol and looked up at Bon Bon who carefully pushed the cross bolt safety off on her shotgun. Then the earth pony nodded her head.

Lyra's horn glowed softly and a slim force wall appeared in front of her. Then for a second her horn flared as it triggered the ward breaker. In an instant the both mares heard sharp, loud CRACK as the ward on the door and the physical lock broke. Before the sound had even subsided Lyra had turned the door knob and was heading into the office with Bon Bon bringing up the rear. Sitting behind a battered office desk and looking up suddenly from some paperwork was a wiry, slightly feral looking earth pony stallion. His left hand quickly moved toward but then moved even quicker away from the battered .41 magnum revolver sitting on top of the desk when he saw the muzzle of the 12ga pointed at him. Slowly he raised both his hands with the palms out.

Lyra quickly swept the corners of the room with her 9mm before snatching the revolver off the desk. Through all of this the muzzle of Bon Bon's 12ga never wavered from the stallion's chest. Lyra dropped her force wall and then used her horn to close the door to office behind them. Then she used her horn to magically pull all of the drawers open except one that was locked. Coming around the desk the unicorn did a quick visual inspection. Satisfied she smiled and finally addressed the stallion who'd remained silent through all of this.

"Fast Talk! Buddy! How have you been! We've been looking all over for you!"

The dappled violet stallion kept his hands up as he smiled weakly at her. "Um. Ladies! Good evening! What an unexpected surprise! I didn't expect to be meeting you tonight!"

Bon Bon lowered the shotgun muzzle but returned it to the low ready position. "Well now you have." The ivory white mare grumbled.

The stallion giggled nervously.

#baron-engel #mlp #anthropomorphic #dreamscape #resf #fttrotterdale #lyra heartstrings #bon bon

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amirhamza74 · 4 months ago

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What are the advantages of digital marketing? Digital marketing offers numerous advantages over traditional marketing methods. Some of the key benefits include: 1. Cost-Effectiveness: Digital marketing is often more affordable than traditional marketing channels like TV, radio, and print. Campaigns can be tailored to fit any budget, allowing small businesses to compete with larger companies. 2. Measurability: Digital marketing provides detailed analytics and reporting, enabling marketers to track the performance of their campaigns in real time. Metrics such as click-through rates, conversion rates, and return on investment (ROI) are easily measurable. 3. Targeted Reach: Digital marketing allows precise targeting based on demographics, interests, behavior, and location. Platforms like Google Ads and Facebook Ads enable marketers to reach specific audiences that are more likely to be interested in their products or services. 4. Flexibility and Agility: Digital marketing campaigns can be quickly adjusted based on performance data. Marketers can experiment with different strategies and tactics without significant delays or costs. 5. Global Reach: The Internet provides access to a global audience, enabling businesses to expand their market beyond local or regional boundaries. E-commerce platforms and international shipping options further support global expansion. 6. Enhanced Engagement: Digital marketing channels, such as social media, email, and content marketing, facilitate direct interaction with customers. Two-way communication allows for better customer relationships and improved customer satisfaction. 7. Personalization: Digital marketing tools allow for personalized marketing messages based on user behavior and preferences. Personalization can significantly improve the customer experience and increase conversion rates. 8. Higher Conversion Rates: Digital marketing strategies like search engine optimization (SEO), pay-per-click (PPC) advertising, and social media marketing can drive highly targeted traffic to websites. This targeted traffic is more likely to convert into leads or sales. 9. Better Customer Experience: Digital marketing enables businesses to provide a seamless and integrated customer experience across various online channels. Techniques such as remarketing and automated email responses can enhance the overall customer journey. hashtag#Overall, digital marketing offers a versatile, efficient, and effective way for businesses to reach and engage with their target audience, leading to increased brand awareness, customer loyalty, and revenue growth.

#amir hamza #businesses

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feminist-space · 5 months ago

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"Just weeks before the implosion of AllHere, an education technology company that had been showered with cash from venture capitalists and featured in glowing profiles by the business press, America’s second-largest school district was warned about problems with AllHere’s product.

As the eight-year-old startup rolled out Los Angeles Unified School District’s flashy new AI-driven chatbot — an animated sun named “Ed” that AllHere was hired to build for $6 million — a former company executive was sending emails to the district and others that Ed’s workings violated bedrock student data privacy principles.

Those emails were sent shortly before The 74 first reported last week that AllHere, with $12 million in investor capital, was in serious straits. A June 14 statement on the company’s website revealed a majority of its employees had been furloughed due to its “current financial position.” Company founder and CEO Joanna Smith-Griffin, a spokesperson for the Los Angeles district said, was no longer on the job.

Smith-Griffin and L.A. Superintendent Alberto Carvalho went on the road together this spring to unveil Ed at a series of high-profile ed tech conferences, with the schools chief dubbing it the nation’s first “personal assistant” for students and leaning hard into LAUSD’s place in the K-12 AI vanguard. He called Ed’s ability to know students “unprecedented in American public education” at the ASU+GSV conference in April.

Through an algorithm that analyzes troves of student information from multiple sources, the chatbot was designed to offer tailored responses to questions like “what grade does my child have in math?” The tool relies on vast amounts of students’ data, including their academic performance and special education accommodations, to function.

Meanwhile, Chris Whiteley, a former senior director of software engineering at AllHere who was laid off in April, had become a whistleblower. He told district officials, its independent inspector general’s office and state education officials that the tool processed student records in ways that likely ran afoul of L.A. Unified’s own data privacy rules and put sensitive information at risk of getting hacked. None of the agencies ever responded, Whiteley told The 74.

...

In order to provide individualized prompts on details like student attendance and demographics, the tool connects to several data sources, according to the contract, including Welligent, an online tool used to track students’ special education services. The document notes that Ed also interfaces with the Whole Child Integrated Data stored on Snowflake, a cloud storage company. Launched in 2019, the Whole Child platform serves as a central repository for LAUSD student data designed to streamline data analysis to help educators monitor students’ progress and personalize instruction.

Whiteley told officials the app included students’ personally identifiable information in all chatbot prompts, even in those where the data weren’t relevant. Prompts containing students’ personal information were also shared with other third-party companies unnecessarily, Whiteley alleges, and were processed on offshore servers. Seven out of eight Ed chatbot requests, he said, are sent to places like Japan, Sweden, the United Kingdom, France, Switzerland, Australia and Canada.

Taken together, he argued the company’s practices ran afoul of data minimization principles, a standard cybersecurity practice that maintains that apps should collect and process the least amount of personal information necessary to accomplish a specific task. Playing fast and loose with the data, he said, unnecessarily exposed students’ information to potential cyberattacks and data breaches and, in cases where the data were processed overseas, could subject it to foreign governments’ data access and surveillance rules.

Chatbot source code that Whiteley shared with The 74 outlines how prompts are processed on foreign servers by a Microsoft AI service that integrates with ChatGPT. The LAUSD chatbot is directed to serve as a “friendly, concise customer support agent” that replies “using simple language a third grader could understand.” When querying the simple prompt “Hello,” the chatbot provided the student’s grades, progress toward graduation and other personal information.

AllHere’s critical flaw, Whiteley said, is that senior executives “didn’t understand how to protect data.”

...

Earlier in the month, a second threat actor known as Satanic Cloud claimed it had access to tens of thousands of L.A. students’ sensitive information and had posted it for sale on Breach Forums for $1,000. In 2022, the district was victim to a massive ransomware attack that exposed reams of sensitive data, including thousands of students’ psychological evaluations, to the dark web.

With AllHere’s fate uncertain, Whiteley blasted the company’s leadership and protocols.

“Personally identifiable information should be considered acid in a company and you should only touch it if you have to because acid is dangerous,” he told The 74. “The errors that were made were so egregious around PII, you should not be in education if you don’t think PII is acid.”

Read the full article here:

https://www.the74million.org/article/whistleblower-l-a-schools-chatbot-misused-student-data-as-tech-co-crumbled/

#data breach #lausd #la school system #tech bro ai being reckless with personal data as usual #anti ai

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aphrodeiities · 7 months ago

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𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔡𝔟𝔞𝔠𝔨 𝔱𝔴𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔶-𝔣𝔬𝔲𝔯

Ok so first of all, I've never been the type to care about layouts when it comes to getting readings, but this spectacular service that Pluto gave me, reminded me as both a client and a business owner that presentation DOES matter. The aesthetic alone is amazing, but the details along with the music she provided to introduce and summarize each house and placement in my chart is BRILLIANT and so detail oriented, moreover strikingly innovative. I've never had an astrologer structure a reading like this for me ever and it really just added onto how phenomenal this chart reading is. Let's start with the length, I received 20+ pages packed with her own solid and unique perspective on every facet of my life based on what she read from my chart.

Every single paragraph blew my mind but what really impressed me is how you can tell that these words are her own, because I love just not her accuracy, but the fact that her connections within her interpretations came from many different directions (aspects, sign, rulership, planets, derivatives, etc) and still logically made sense. A variety of different feelings that I've speculated about my life but never really shared with anyone out of insecurity that maybe I just didn't see certain situations correctly ended up being confirmed through her insight just from my chart which I'm not gonna lie, made me freeze and gather myself before continuing to read (multiple times btw). It's like my whole soul was being read from my childhood all the way to my present life and my future.

I highly recommend paying for her services because one, HER MIND, two, her respect for the practice, three, the amount of research that she puts in this all together both in and outside of personal readings, and four, you're not going to get any vague or regurgitated interpretations that you can find on a search engine. She's very communicative and her insight is worth it because I guarantee that you will find at least ten things about yourself that you didn't understand about yourself then until now on every single page that she gives you. The reading didn't feel generic or automated, it actually felt tailored to my birth chart, by describing each and every crevice of my placements.

reading ⟶ natal chart reading + asteroid lilith 1181, asteroid medusa, asteroid fama and asteroid mony

paid chart readings here

#d4rkpluto #d4rkplutofeedback #astrology #scorpio #gemini #virgo #libra #aries #sagittarius #aquarius #astro notes #astro observations

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thirsty-boba-fett-posts · 1 year ago

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Y’all wanted Vampire!Boba and I intend to deliver because Boba Bestie solidarity is a surprisingly strong bond of friendship.

gif courtesy of @daimyosprincess 💚💚💚

SMUT-LITE UNDER THE CUT.

Nothing good happens after 2am.

Your childhood pony, ancient and serviceably sound despite suffering from a variety of ailments common to geriatric equines, was finally gone after a heroic amount of banamine and nasogastric intubation. You’d ditched your dinner date and swapped your heels for your boots to be with the trusty steed of your junior rodeo days. You hadn’t even bothered to change out of your dress. Now you’re at a gas station in a $1000 dress and a pair of Ariats that were $150 five years ago with eye makeup running down your cheeks and your dead pony’s halter in your truck’s passenger seat. You just need a few gallons of diesel to get yourself home, then you can sleep.

A car pulls in as you fish your debit card out of your purse. Through the haze of grief you wonder who else would possibly be out at this hour in a late model Audi. He looks no more conspicuous than you do in a cocktail dress and cowgirl boots putting $10 worth of diesel in a dually born the same year you were, but he looks like money and there isn’t a whole lot of that around here.

A handsome, barrel chested man in tailored slacks gets out and begins filling his tank. You can feel him watching you, but you avoid making eye contact. You’re not afraid. You just look like hell. There’s no use flirting when your mascara is streaked down your cheeks and you’ve got mud on your bare knees from kneeling down to be with your pony as he passed.

…

The summer breeze is warm and it carries her scent. A perfume or scented oil perhaps - vanilla with a hint of bourbon. But something else, something familiar. The unmistakable smell of a horse farm like the livery stable of his youth. She avoids his gaze. Her face looks puffy and tear streaked. Her lovely dress flatters her figure, but her boots and muddy knees give her away as a local girl. And her truck - no girl from the city drives a truck like that. It must be older than she is. She’s a pretty little thing. Crying has given her a hollowed, wounded look, but it’s nothing a warm soak in his bath and a night in his bed couldn’t fix, surely. Her boots have seen better days. He imagines taking her to one of the expensive western wear stores in the city. It’s been so long since he’s felt the warmth of a woman on his arm. Or in his arms, for that matter.

…

Your truck’s engine won’t turn over. This isn’t earth shattering. Your truck was in borrowed time 75,000 miles ago. Your cousin owns the station and won’t mind if you leave it overnight - his father-in-law will probably tow it to the shop for free - but finding a way home is going to be a bit of a crapshoot. Compared to the rest of the night’s events, this is a hardly worth fretting over. You shoot a text to your cousin, knowing damn well he won’t check it until the morning. You thumb through your contact to see who might answer a 2am call or text.

A knock at your passenger side window makes you jump. The man with the Audi. You roll down your window.

“Are you waiting for a tow?”

His eyes are kind. Sympathetic. You must look absolutely pitiful in your silly little cocktail dress and your beat up old truck.

“I’ll just leave it here for the night. This is my cousin’s place.”

You hesitate.

“I could use a ride home though.”

You can see the strength in his biceps through his shirt. He doesn’t look harmless, but he doesn’t seem especially menacing either, and you’re too tired to wait around for someone to pick up the phone.

…

He can smell the warm leather and tang of brass on her passenger seat. An old halter, well worn but double stitched with a brass nameplate. He can smell hay - orchard grass and timothy and alfalfa. She must spend more on her horses than she does on herself, he thinks. Her eyes and clear and bright. Her round cheeks have the glossy sheen of old tears. Her heartbeat is soft and slow. Exhaustion and catharsis can have that affect. It would be nothing to lull her to sleep with his voice alone, but the heated seats of his car would speed the process along.

She’s doing an admirable job fighting sleep as she gives him directions from his passenger seat, but she soon settles. His driveway is paved and the long drive to his estate is quiet save for the sound of her heartbeat and her breathing. Her halter and lead rope are on her lap. The brass nameplate says “Bueno Butter Bar” in an attractive script. He suspects that Bueno Butter Bar is no longer in the land of the living.

Under his power, she won’t wake up until he allows it. He takes his time. He hangs Bueno Butter Bar’s halter and lead rope carefully on the coat rack just inside his front door and returns to scoop her in his arms and carry her over the threshold.

He lays her down on the plush comforter on his bed. He smooths her dress and pushes her hair out of her face. He’s not ready to wake her. He wants to admire her first. Her skin is soft. She feels warm and earthy under his touch. Predation is not in his nature, but he can’t resist tasting her. Just a sip from the bend of her arm. It will look like she attended a blood drive or had lab work done. The part of him that scratches at the inside of his skull with claws and teeth and an insatiable appetite whispers that she’s his now. He can do whatever he wants with her. The man that he once was, still is, reminds him that she is a person with hopes and dreams and fears and aspirations. Not meat. Not livestock. The soft rhythm of her beating heart calls to him.

Her blood is perfection, but he limits himself to a conservative mouthful. He’ll wake her soon and tend to her. Perhaps offer her a neat scotch and one of his t-shirts to sleep in. Perhaps a shower. Perhaps a bath with him.

…

You startle awake in a dimly lit, unfamiliar bedroom. His voice is soothing. You remember his name from when he introduced himself. Boba Fett. A Mandolorian name, you remember thinking. That’s the last thing you remember. He’s smoothing your hair and offering you a drink. His hands are so warm. He feels familiar and safe. You sit up and lean forward. His forehead touches yours. Such an intimate gesture.

“You’ve had quite the night, haven’t you love?”

When his lips find yours, you melt into him. This is what you need after a night like tonight. A strong, kind man to put his hands on you and take care of you. His touch feels like fresh aloe over a sunburn. You wrap your arms around his neck and he slides his palms up your thighs.

He pauses and you worry that he’s having second thoughts.

“Take a bath with me, little one. Sleep here with me in my bed. If you still want to do this in the morning, I promise I’ll make you feel incredible.”

You nod and allow him to wrap you in his arms and carry you to the bathroom.

…

Y’all I promise there will be a Part II with actual smut, but I’ve been out in the sun all day and I’m tired.

@daimyosprincess

@acatalystrising

@dukeoftheblackstar

@baufraus

@erinthevampire

@wings-and-beskar

@deewithani

#boba fett thots #the book of boba fett #boba fett x reader #boba fett #daddy daimyo #boba fett can get it #boba fett imagine #boba fett smut #vampire!boba

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bliow · 4 months ago

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AGARTHA Aİ - DEVASA+ (2)

In today’s digital landscape, a captivating and functional website is crucial for any business looking to thrive online. Full service web design encompasses a comprehensive approach, ensuring every aspect of your site is tailored to meet your unique needs. From the initial concept to the final launch, this service provides an array of offerings, including website service, responsive web design, and custom design services. Whether you’re a startup seeking to establish your brand or an established enterprise aiming to enhance your online presence, understanding the elements of full service web design is essential.

Full service web design

Full service web design encompasses all aspects of creating a website, from initial conceptualization to ongoing maintenance. This approach ensures that every detail is carefully considered to meet the specific needs of a business or individual. With a team of experienced designers and developers, full service web design offers a seamless experience that integrates aesthetics, functionality, and user experience.

One of the key advantages of opting for a full service web design is the cohesion of the website elements. Since all parts of the project are managed by a single team, there is less chance for miscommunication or inconsistency in design. This results in a more polished final product that reflects the brand’s identity while providing an engaging experience for visitors.

Additionally, full service web design allows for customized solutions tailored to unique requirements. Whether you need an e-commerce platform, a portfolio site, or a blog, a full service provider will offer dedicated support and expert advice throughout the entire process, ensuring your vision comes to life exactly as you imagined.

Website service

In today's digital landscape, website service is essential for businesses to thrive and maintain an online presence. A well-structured website serves as a powerful tool that encourages customer engagement and drives sales. By investing in a comprehensive website service, businesses can ensure that their website not only looks great but also functions seamlessly across all devices.

A key aspect of website service is the ability to optimize for search engines. By implementing SEO best practices, businesses can enhance their visibility and attract more organic traffic. This is where a reliable website service provider plays a crucial role, as they possess the expertise and techniques necessary to elevate your search engine rankings.

Furthermore, ongoing support and maintenance are vital components of a reliable website service. As technology evolves and user needs change, having a team that can promptly address issues or updates will keep your website relevant and effective in reaching target audiences. This ongoing relationship is instrumental in achieving long-term success in the digital realm.

Responsive web design

Responsive web design is an essential aspect of modern web development that ensures a seamless user experience across a variety of devices. With the increasing use of smartphones and tablets, having a website that adapts to different screen sizes is not just a luxury but a necessity.

The core principle of responsive web design is fluidity. This means that the layout of your website adjusts dynamically based on the screen width, ensuring that content remains accessible and visually appealing regardless of the device used. This approach improves usability and can significantly boost conversion rates.

Incorporating responsive web design techniques involves using flexible grids, images, and CSS media queries. These elements work together to create a layout that responds gracefully to changes in screen size, making your website not only functional but also competitive in the digital marketplace.

Custom design services

In today's digital landscape, custom design services have emerged as a vital component of creating a strong online presence. Businesses understand that a one-size-fits-all approach does not cater to their unique needs and branding. Therefore, opting for custom design services allows them to differentiate themselves in a crowded market.

These services offer tailored solutions that resonate with a company's specifics, from colors to typography and layout. By leveraging custom design services, businesses can ensure that their websites not only reflect their brand identity but also provide an intuitive user experience. This is crucial for keeping visitors engaged and encouraging them to take the desired actions.

Investing in custom design services ultimately contributes to better customer satisfaction and improved conversion rates. With a website designed specifically for their target audience, businesses can more effectively communicate their message and achieve their goals. This bespoke approach is invaluable in today's competitive environment.

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cognitivejustice · 3 months ago

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‘A couple of centuries ago, farmers produced multiple crops to feed their families and maybe put aside some surplus as a safeguard for the coming year. Only if they had an outstanding harvest were they able to sell some of their product,’ he explained.

‘Monoculture emerged as access to much larger distant markets made it increasingly profitable to specialise. Specialisation meant more efficient planting and harvesting, fewer types of expensive equipment, fewer labourers with specialised knowledge of individual crops, and strengthened knowledge of one value chain and commercial market, including all its regulations and tariffs,’ he added.

Farming, once one of the most natural of endeavours, has become ‘artificialised,’ claims Raul Zornoza Belmonte, an expert on sustainable land use and crop diversification and professor of agricultural engineering at Universidad Politécnica de Cartagena, Spain.

‘This globalised capital, chemical and energy-intensive sector is having a negative impact not only on the environment in terms of loss of biodiversity, soil health and greenhouse gas emissions but also on farm productivity and expenses,’ he explained.

Through the Diverfarming project, Zornoza and his team have tackled these challenges by creating a free web-based decision support tool to provide tailor-made solutions, and guidelines for diversified cropping systems. This app also includes a toolbox for adapting the different agricultural activities and even a new prototype of an improved machine for tilling the soil.

youtube

Diverfarming’s community of ‘diverfarmers’ implemented these tools and is now enjoying the benefits. ‘In vineyards and orchards, organic farmers have introduced herbs like thyme and oregano alongside or between the main crops. This has reduced the weeds and their expensive and time-consuming removal, and with the same labour, instead of weeds, farmers now have fresh-cut herbs that can be sold as they are or from which their essential oils can be extracted and sold,’ said Zornoza.

‘Aromatic herbs and their beautiful flowers attract beneficial insects – and potentially agritourists, a boon for rural tourism – while increasing soil quality and nutrients and enhancing water retention, and with no effect so far on the quality or production volume of fruits or wine,’ he added.

“ In vineyards and orchards, organic farmers have introduced herbs like thyme and oregano alongside or between the main crops. This has reduced the weeds and their expensive and time-consuming removal, and with the same labour, instead of weeds, farmers now have fresh-cut herbs that can be sold as they are or from which their essential oils can be extracted and sold.

But the advantages of growing different crops together don’t stop here, the practice can also limit erosion, improve the storage of soil carbon and reduce the amount of nitrogen in water. It also provides home to a much greater range of life both below the soil and above from tiny microbes and creepy crawlies to reptiles, birds and mammals.

#solarpunk #solar punk #indigenous knowledge #changing face of agriculture #Youtube

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