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#Highest Levels of Security

sunblondeblog · 3 months

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Piramal Revanta Eden

Experience contemporary metropolitan living at The Eden, settled in Mulund, the new social, monetary, and business center point of Mumbai. Offering a tranquil getaway from city life, The Edens skyscraper towers are roosted near the very edge of the tremendous 25,000-section of land Sanjay Gandhi Public Park, flaunting dazzling perspectives over the verdant Yeoor Slopes. The Eden Homes are masterfully created to improve regular light and outside air, with different 3-room lofts. Cycling and jogging paths, a free-play lawn for cricket and football, a badminton court, a well-equipped gym, swimming pools, and exclusive areas for yoga and meditation are just some of the top sports and amenities available to residents. Every loft is gotten with cutting edge security frameworks, offering adequate space for self-improvement and prospering ways of life. The Eden welcomes you to reclassify and customize your living involvement with this rich metropolitan safe-haven.

Piramal Realty has planned to enhance lives by setting highest quality levels for client centricity, compositional plan, quality and security. Piramal Gatherings tradition of dependable stewardship for individual and local area development, as well as the gatherings steady obligation to Information, Activity, Care, and Effect is reflected in our exercises as its improvement arm. Our compassionate commitment with clients, ensures that their necessities are ceaselessly met and surpassed, making Piramal Realty advancements, puts that offer chances to flourish.

Mulund is a distinguished suburb that has the advantage of being close to both Navi Mumbai and Thane. It is located just outside the hustle and bustle of the city. Perceived as Mumbais flawlessly arranged suburb, Mulund is settled at the lower regions of one of the universes biggest metropolitan save woods. With current framework projects in Mumbai, Mulund presently offers consistent network across the city, significantly chopping down movement times. Mulund is a sought-after location for residential, commercial, and recreational uses because it is home to some of the city's finest educational and healthcare facilities.

Piramal Revanta Eden

#Piramal Revanta Eden #Experience contemporary metropolitan living at The Eden #settled in Mulund #the new social #monetary #and business center point of Mumbai. Offering a tranquil getaway from city life #The Edens skyscraper towers are roosted near the very edge of the tremendous 25 #000-section of land Sanjay Gandhi Public Park #flaunting dazzling perspectives over the verdant Yeoor Slopes. The Eden Homes are masterfully created to improve regular light and outside #with different 3-room lofts. Cycling and jogging paths #a free-play lawn for cricket and football #a badminton court #a well-equipped gym #swimming pools #and exclusive areas for yoga and meditation are just some of the top sports and amenities available to residents. Every loft is gotten with #offering adequate space for self-improvement and prospering ways of life. The Eden welcomes you to reclassify and customize your living inv #Piramal Realty has planned to enhance lives by setting highest quality levels for client centricity #compositional plan #quality and security. Piramal Gatherings tradition of dependable stewardship for individual and local area development #as well as the gatherings steady obligation to Information #Activity #Care #and Effect is reflected in our exercises as its improvement arm. Our compassionate commitment with clients #ensures that their necessities are ceaselessly met and surpassed #making Piramal Realty advancements #puts that offer chances to flourish.#Mulund is a distinguished suburb that has the advantage of being close to both Navi Mumbai and Thane. It is located just outside the hustle #Mulund is settled at the lower regions of one of the universes biggest metropolitan save woods. With current framework projects in Mumbai #Mulund presently offers consistent network across the city #significantly chopping down movement times. Mulund is a sought-after location for residential

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skipppppy · 17 days

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I love how despite not being a bender, Sokka is the biggest embodiment of everything the Water Tribe values in the show, both good and bad.

Change. Sokka who humbled himself when the Kyoshi warriors proved him wrong and took their teachings to heart. Sokka who always had a plan, a few hundred backup plans, and could still get out of a sticky situation on the fly. Sokka whose friends became bored and aimless without his quick wit and initiative.

Kindness. Sokka who went to save Aang before Katara even had to ask him to. Sokka who saw the humanity in an old man from the fire nation. Sokka who gave Jet a second chance despite being the first one to be suspicious of him. Sokka who showed Zuko to his room and held no resentment against him. Sokka who shielded Toph from falling debris with his body.

Ingenuity. Sokka who invented airships and submarines. Sokka who took down the drill. Sokka who broke into a Fire Nation prison rig and out of the highest security prison in the country. Sokka who levelled Ozai’s entire sky fleet in one tactical manoeuvre.

Love. Sokka who couldn’t remember his mother’s face but carries the grief of her death so deeply that he protects every woman he meets with the same unhealthy hypervigilance. Sokka who instinctually jumps to defend his sister despite their constant bickering.

Community. Sokka who gave up his childhood to become the sole protector of his village and dedicated his time to training the younger boys in combat. Sokka who learned to let go of his hypervigilance and put his trust in the people he’a afraid of losing so they can protect him like he protects them. Sokka who stood alone guarding the gates of his home as Zuko’s ship towered over them.

#sokka is the best avatar character okay. i just have thoughts #avatar the last airbender #atla #atla analysis #sokka #water tribe

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sumaya432 · 7 months

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WE PROPEL THE WORLD’S BEST COMPANIES WITH DATA ENGINEERED TO DELIVER THE ABSOLUTE HIGHEST PERFORMING C-LEVEL AND BOARD LEADERSHIP FASTER THAN ANYONE ELSE. Recognized for securing Rocketship CEOs for Tech Giants and many of Silicon Valley’s original unicorns, Christian & Timbers is now re-engineering the next generation of executive search. Introducing Science Based Search For the first time the data transparency to know you will be selecting from the absolute best, highest performing Rocketship Leaders within days not months of initiating the search. TALENT MAPPING → TALENT PIPELINING Knowing the complete competitive candidate ecosystem at launch allows you the business intelligence and talent pipelining to always execute the optimum search strategy. PREDICTIVE LEADERSHIP - PROPRIETARY OUTREACH Our brand, command of language and multi-tiered outreach engines assures leadership trusted to deliver our client’s most critical high-performance business outcomes. UNCOMPROMISING LEADERSHIP HIRING MODEL Capturing the complete candidate universe, KPIs and an Uncompromising Leadership Hiring Model gives you the data transparency to always hire the absolute best. Winning the war for talent for over 40 years

Our experience, global reputation and deep relationships with the best leadership gives us access to the most sought-after Rocketship Talent around the world. The industry’s most advanced Talent Map Engineering adds to our expertise in every specialization.

We first specialized in Robotics, then semiconductor, becoming market leaders in every sector of technology. We are experts in each sector we focus today.

#Building the World’s Greatest Companies #WE PROPEL THE WORLD’S BEST COMPANIES WITH DATA ENGINEERED TO DELIVER THE ABSOLUTE HIGHEST PERFORMING C-LEVEL AND BOARD LEADERSHIP FASTER TH #Recognized for securing Rocketship CEOs for Tech Giants and many of Silicon Valley’s original unicorns #Christian & Timbers is now re-engineering the next generation of executive search.#Introducing Science Based Search

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navinsamachar · 10 months

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Cryptocurrency : 1 क्रिप्टोकरेंसी ला सकती है आपके जीवन में ‘अच्छे दिन’, आया अच्छा मौका ?

नवीन समाचार, बिजनेस डेस्क, 7 जुलाई 2023। क्रिप्टोकरेंसी (Cryptocurrency) में निवेश करने वाले निवेशकों के लिए बड़ी खबर है। समाचार एजेंसी रॉयटर्स की रिपोर्ट के अनुसार गुरुवार, 6 जुलाई को बिटकॉइन अपने 13 महीनों में अपने उच्चतम स्तर पर पहुंच गया है। आज एक बिटकॉइन 3.28 प्रतिशत बढ़कर 31,500 डॉलर (लगभग 25,97,767 रुपये) हो गया। वहीं क्रिप्टो ट्रेडिंग एक्सचेंज कॉइन मार्केट कैप के अनुसार बिटकॉइन का मौजूदा…

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lipid · 8 months

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MEXICO DECRIMINALIZED ABORTION AT A FEDERAL LEVEL TODAY!!!!

The Supreme Court of Justice of the Nation (SCJN) has decriminalized abortion at the federal level throughout the country. This unanimous decision of the highest court obliges federal public health institutions, such as the Mexican Institute of Social Security (IMSS), Institute of Security and Social Services for State Workers (ISSSTE) and Pemex, to offer the service on a free basis. In addition, it indicates the resolution of the Court, in no case may medical personnel be criminalized. This decision is one more step towards the freedom to terminate the pregnancy, after the historical precedent of 2021.

This Tuesday, thanks to an injunction from the feminist organization Gire, the First Chamber of the Court ruled: "The legal system that penalizes abortion in the Federal Penal Code is unconstitutional, since it violates the human rights of women and people with ability to gestate”. This represents several advances, on the one hand, it is not only that abortion cannot be criminalized, but also that federal health institutions must provide the service.

#WOOOOOO #mexico #reproductive rights #abortion

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alienzil · 1 year

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DP x DC Prompt/notion #1

Danny is summoned by some superheroes. Maybe by accident or maybe they didn't know what they were doing but they don't really know who he is (or that he's the ghost king)

Danny isn't entirely honest about his powers or who he is for reasons and the Justice League mostly just classify him as an average power level teen hero and sign him up for the teen titans (or young justice, whichever).

After hanging out with the younger heroes for a bit, Danny gives them his summoning spell because it's the most reliable way to get ahold of him.

Danny's summing spell has very specific requirements (as is the norm) but after a while one of the other heroes gets annoyed at having to go through the whole process every time they need Danny (maybe Danny is going back and forth between Amity and the hero team and they have to summon him every few days?) Specifically, I'm picturing Red Robin. So he decides there has to be a better way.

There's a big battle and Danny isn't there. The teen heroes all have a pretty good idea by this point that Danny is more powerful than the Justice League knows. They're dodging explosions and flying debris and one of them shouts to Tim that they need to summon Danny, does he have the supplies?!

"Download the app!" Tim shouts back.

"App?!" they respond "What app?!"

"The app I made to summon Phantom, it's in our secure sever."

"That can't possibly work?! The summoning needs a circle drawn while chanting the spell!"

"The image of the circle is loaded on the screen and the spell plays via a recorded audio file. It actually works better because there's no way to mess up the incantation or the circle requirements since the app does it all!"

"You need 7 candles of pure beeswax!"

"That part's just about not being cheap with the lighting! That phone costs over a thousand dollars and has a backlit LCD screen with the highest resolution available. It exceeds the requirements."

"What about the blood?"

"There's blood inside your hand, your hand is holding the phone. It works fine. "

Naturally the app works and Danny shows up to help save the day.

I'm picturing one of the Justice League's bigger magic users (Constantine? Zatanna?) finding out about the app and they want to see it. This ultimately leads to them getting details on the summoning spell (presumably with some shenanigans along the way if the younger heroes know the secret and are helping Danny hide it) and finding out Danny is the ghost king.

#dc x dp #dcxdp #dp x dc #dpxdc #danny phantom #ghost king danny #red Robin #writing prompt

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teaboot · 1 year

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Cuddles, analyzed:

Little Spoon: Feeling of being held and protected. Comforting pressure, like a weighted blanket. Warm. Down side: Slightly claustrophobic. Limbs lose circulation. Possibility of being crushed. Risk of overheating. Difficult to change positions without disrupting your partner. Good for the partner who sleeps like a fucking log and is always too cold.

Big Spoon: Satisfaction of keeping your partner safe and covered. Also warm. Easier to sneak away and piss. Loose, whimsical clinging options. Down side: Vulnerable to outside threats. Risk of becoming too cold. Little to no soothing surface pressure. Good for the partner who is protective and proactive.

Middle positions: Covered on all sides. Maximum skin contact, maximum surface pressure. Warm, protected, cherished position. Down side: Restricted range of movement. Possibility of overheating. Morning breath from at least one partner.

Face-to-face: Intimate. Offers the opportunity to stare lovingly at your partner while their eyes are closed, to admire and observe and to think of the past and future. Excellent for late night conversation. Down side: 100% certainty of direct morning breath blast. Relatively distant, physically. Weird blanket drape allows for draft.

Back-to-back: Primary choice for defensive position. Eyes on both sides. Maximum blanket tension. No morning breath. Easy to sneak off and back without being disruptive. Booty buddies. Down side: Feels a lil like you're a married couple going through hard times in a hallmark movie. The least cuddly of cuddles.

Stacked, Top: Freedom of movement. Warm. Heartbeat and breathing both detectable. Good for a spur of the moment nap on a shared surface. Perfect for a small partner on the go. Down side: Somewhat cold. Feels a little one-sided. Might roll off.

Stacked, Bottom: The most surface pressure possible. The most body heat possible. Heartbeat and breathing detectable. Secure position, greatest validation of affection. Down side: Zero freedom of movement. Worst for circulation. Worst for pee and water breaks. Highest risk of being drooled on.

Stacked, Middle: Expert level. Do not attempt. Worst of both top and bottom positions with the benefits of neither. Zero ventilation, no range of motion. This ride only stops for emergencies, and crying is not an emergency. Avoid.

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 9 months

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Hiya! I’m so happy your requests are open omg your writing is impeccable. So I’ve been with this concept in my head for so long since I read this prompt somewhere: what is with your weird fascination with me?

And just immediately my head started creating a story about reader having the nickname ‘Death’ because she has the highest body count known, skilled as no other and, also, imposible to know on a deeper level because she is like a wall, not letting anyone in. Until John Price needs her for a mission and is, as the prompt says, fascinated by her (and feeling other things he doesn’t want to admit), and is able to break her a little when he gets hurt in a mission after months of working together.

Glory to the Reaper

PAIRING: John Price x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: He was strange, you admitted to yourself. Always around even when you didn't want him to be. But perhaps the Brit just might surprise you.

WORDCOUNT: 5.8k

WARNINGS: Angst, blood, death, gore, canon typical violence, avoidance tactics, fluff, pining, hurt/comfort, etc.

A/N: I switched around the codename but it's still the same plot! Enjoy, Anon!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

Your eyes slip over the file on the table, slowly caressing the parchment with easy and careful consideration of every word and comma—searching. Focusing. You hum under your breath and slide the page away to spy on the one behind it, the room quiet and the air cold. Outside the window the entire compound is asleep, only the light of the street lamps illuminating the land; inside this office, your feet barely shuffle over the tuft of the rug.

Clicking your tongue, you go to the next document in the pile.

The still-warm body flinches and jerks below you, but you barely notice—he hadn’t put up much of a fight; wasn’t memorable. Sighing and itching over the mask along the bottom of your face, you snatch the last six papers from the desk and fold them four times, stuffing them into your vest pocket.

Stalking with sure steps, you press into the radio on your gear as you step over the body and head to the door. Bloody bootprints follow behind you like a crimson shadow of surefire death.

“Actual, intel secured. Heading to Evac now.” Laswell was listening intently on the other end, your Op of the highest priority.

You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t, surely. The small click from the other end greets you as you shove open the office’s door and saunter down the hallway paved with glints of marble and pools of viscera like a Roman horror story. Eyes numbly slide past the scores of bodies; necks slit and stomachs burst from bullets fired through silencers.

“Good job, Tomb,” Laswell utters, voice fast and serious as always. “What’s the clean-up status?”

Your lips flinch upward, “I suggest fire and a prayer, Actual. But no one knows I’m here. Main house is neutralized.”

A small pause later and a huff of dull amusement.

“Copy, Tomb. Your ride is waiting—best not to miss it, we need you back sooner than later.” The structure of your lungs rearranges in a small chuckle that echoes off the ceiling; molten silver from the moon slips over your darkened form. The patch upon your right shoulder is illuminated in steady intervals, the familiar image of a mausoleum and a guarding Sphinx.

Alone, that patch is, with no other dark affiliations beyond that demonic cause. Many see it right before they meet their end, but the insignia was entirely left to ruin—no one sees it and lives besides other soldiers.

“Copy.” Your voice is easy and bland as the curtains from the single open window shake in the breeze. “Tell the boys I’m on my way.” You pass the window and slap a gloved hand to it, hearing the squeak of the frame as it hits back down before you turn the corner, slinking away to reform into a figure that evokes grim glances and sliced sentences.

—

You stare into blue eyes with a sheen of disinterest coating your own, hands stuffed into your pockets and gear heavy on your chest. From your shoulder, the strap of your rifle sits as you speak, tilting your head, “Captain Jonathan Price of Task Force 141.”

The man was tall, you admit, fit and formed to harsh military life. Undoublity he’d been in the service for decades. You’d seen his face before—the brunette beard and the strong jaw; small eyes with wrinkles, it’s how you had ID’d him. Plus the bucket hat. Laswell had told you he’d been inquiring about your file and you’d done your own digging off the books.

John grunts a greeting before nodding.

“Pleasure. Tomb, was it?” On the tarmac, you glance around with stiff shoulders as the blades of the helicopter slow down behind you. Morning was just on the horizon, and you hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep on the flight back.

Lips thin, before your vision slides back into place. John’s hands are crossed casually, but his blue holds glints of intrigue. You don’t like that. “...The one and only. Excuse me.”

Walking past, you move like a crane, legs taking long, steady, strides. A hand comes up to scratch at your cheek through your face covering. Laswell was expecting you immediately.

And those feet at your side were not supposed to be there. Your eyes shimmer lowly at the shadow of John as he follows.

“Should tell you that Laswell’s in building two, then.” Pace halting, the Captain continues off on his own as your sharp gaze burns into his neck. He spares a glance over his expansive shoulder before adjusting his course to the East. “Told me to bring you to her. We need to have a little chat, yeah?”

You stay silent, watching John travel to the larger building where Laswell was apparently now waiting for you. After a still minute where you listen to the birds waking up and the scent of dew is in your hidden nostrils, you sigh deeply and roll your shoulders before beginning to walk behind.

“Hm,” Garbled grunts are only heard by you as you stay well enough back from the man. Cautious as you stare at his head.

He holds the door open for you when you finally make it, and you stand blankly from the opening as John’s calloused hand clenches over the door. When you don’t enter, the Captain shakes his head and releases a deep chuckle.

“Alright, then,” he mutters, shuffling through the door first. You follow the strain of his back until you look away and reach for the barrier, pushing it back from you. Making your way inside, you sigh and wonder what you’re getting into.

“Laswell said you don’t like strangers,” eyes peek back at you as the buzzing from the overhead lights echoes in your ears. Your throat releases a hum; shoulders showing a picture of wound ease. “Can’t say she’s wrong, now can you?”

Watching another soldier pass the two of you, you tilt your head to make sure the stranger’s footsteps turn the corner before you answer John’s question with a raised brow to mirror his own.

“Did she also tell you that I don’t plan on joining One-Four-One, Captain?” His bearded smirk catches you slightly off-guard, perplexed by not even the hint of shock in his gaze. He’d done his research.

John grunts as his eyelids narrow, amused. Your muscles tense.

“Affirmative.” The meeting room door is opened and this time he allows you to ease your paranoia by slinking in first.

In the room sits an occupied Laswell, a long table, a projector, and black-out windows. Confused but used to last-minute changes, you simply enter silently and pick a chair with your back to the wall and a good view of the room.

“Laswell,” you utter in greeting as the woman hums a hello, shifting through numerous files. In your breast pocket, you pull out the files you’d stolen and toss them onto the wood. John stands near the entrance with crossed arms, hips shifting every so often as his feet re-situate themselves.

He blinks down at the papers and then back to you with a careful glance at Kate.

Your Station Chief chuckles when she looks at you, tilting her head before she snatches the prize.

“Good work as always, Tomb.”

“Why is he here?” You get to the point, one hand going up to brush over your hair as the other sits limply on the seat’s arm. Your gear sits heavy on you, but that brutal tic of curiosity blooms.

John’s lips twitch before he answers, “An offer. Knew I wouldn’t be able to meet if Laswell wasn’t the mediator, eh? You’re bloody difficult to track down.”

“Offer?” Small talk never mattered to you, hadn’t since you’d signed up, and probably never would. You didn’t understand why people beat around the bush—just say what you need to say and get it over with. There was only so much time in a day.

It seemed John Price carried part of that opinion as well.

Blunt, you admit to your opinion of the man, and sure of his strengths.

“I need your skill set.” Kate looks back and forth between you two before she focuses on her work, multitasking. John continues, pointing a hand at you in demonstration from their hold on his chest. “Mission in three days. Turkey…” He watches you closely as if gauging your abilities. “You in or out?”

You wait in a dim silence for a minute or two before you tilt your body to Laswell, eyes still stuck in stormy blue and pale wrinkles inlaid with dirt.��

“Kate?”

“Totally off the books,” the woman says confidently, pen sliding over paper. “Two targets in Bursa. There’s a file in your office.” Raising a brow, John hides his cheeky smile behind a bored mask.

“Take your Lieutenant,” you glare, “Ghost, was it?”

Price shakes his head, hat flinching along with it. “On assignment. I’ll need an answer today, Tomb. Time’s ticking.”

Your jaw clenches in annoyance, “Capture or kill?”

John shrugs nonchalantly, “Either. Is this a yes or a no?”

In this game of cat and mouse, you find yourself slipping. Your obligations as a soldier call to you to take the mission immediately, but for the simple fact that this Captain was unknown to you—and apparently, you weren’t unknown to him.

John was checking all of the boxes of people you didn’t like to be around.

Your voice grits out, eyes burning in their glare, “...When?”

His smirk makes you want to storm out.

“Tomorrow. 1300.” The air in the room is thick, tense like a thick layer of molasses was overtop everything. Under the table, your foot taps to the steady beat of your heart, your face tensed, and the layers of your facemask suddenly too formed to your neck and chin.

Twitching your nose you dig your eyes into John, peeling down his expansive shoulders and chest to take in the layers of packs and other miscellaneous items. His thigh holders and the way they hug his legs. You end with one last dead-on look into his eyes, trying to pinpoint intentions and flay the lines of his brain.

Most people glance away, but John returns the look with a casual tilt of his head and a raised brow. Not at all off-put.

Your hand steadily clenches over the chair.

All you give him is a firm nod—nothing more than a mere jerk of your chin. Kate sighs from where she’d been watching.

“Perfect. John,” she points her pen at the Captain as you both stare off. John grunts before his eyes flicker to the side, leisurely roving back moments later. You blink and rub your forehead. “You have your answer. Now would the both of you get the fuck out of here?”

“Copy, Kate.” John sighs, and you huff; standing as you plan out the amount of time you have to clean up and sleep before you have to leave. With an easy brush of your shoulders, your form shimmies past the Captain with dull enthusiasm.

You weren’t happy about this, but fine. You’ve been through worse.

As you shuffle down the hallway to the armory, your ears quirk when the footsteps ring in the drums of your ears like a hiking beacon. Already you’d memorized the walking pattern.

The thump-bump, bump-thump, of boots and the clink-clank of metal on metal. Shoving down a growl you hiss out into the air, not turning around.

“Problem, Price?” A gruff humph bounces.

“Negative, Tomb.” His shadow comes to conjoin with yours, large body standing side-by-side. Eyes flash to the side of your face, hidden from all by the cloth—like a bored cat, you continue to pave your way to silence; hoping whatever thought this man had in his head would disappear. “Just curious, see.”

“Curious?” your brow raises, the make of your muscles showing your unease. “Can’t help you with that.”

“No, probably not, eh?” John grunts and reiterates as strange emotion spikes in the lines of his face as he glances along you. “Tomorrow. 1300. Don’t be late.” With nothing more, he halts and pivots, peeling back to leave your side as his sudden absence leaves you devoid of heat.

Confusion breeds in your chest, but your steady legs carry you on until your tension leaves. Under your breath you utter a question as you enter the armory, shuffling your rifle off of your chest. “What the hell was that about?”

—

Price and you stand inside the safehouse with fast hearts and narrowed eyes. Blood was dripping down your hands, the black gloves flooded with gore that sure as hell doesn’t belong to you.

“Fuck,” John growls, guttural reverberations echoing off the walls. With stiff ribs, you go and lightly peel back the fabric of the nearest window to study the street below; looking for any suspicious figures. Frowning, you see nothing and let the curtain fall, eyes wafting to the Captain.

“We either lost them or they have surveillance on the building. Best for you to not leave either way.” The mission had gone sideways—apparently one of the targets had an ID on John as a member of One-Four-One. One thing led to another and resulted in you sticking a knife into some man’s gut to get away when he’d been spotted. You blink at his agitated expression, the black beanie on his head ruffled as he runs a hand over it.

But you don’t say anything else. Peeling off your gloves, you listen to him as a rain of blood splatters the carpet.

“This sets us back—since when does bloody fuckin’ Metin Baydar know who I am?” John’s hands are clenched, jaw so tight you wonder if his molars will crack under the pressure. A smirk twitches your lips at the thought. “Tomb,” you slowly tilt your eyes to him. The man sets his lips and crosses his arms, the brown casual wear in his chest bunching. “I’ll need you to be my eyes on this, yeah? If I leave this position I jeopardize your safety.”

“My safety?” you huff a laugh and push your gloves into your loose pants. “Captain, I don’t need you to worry about my safety.”

He seems to pause for a moment, and with a shake of his head his blue eyes shutter closed. A deep, tight, breath is taken and those tiny lids are forced back as you lock gazes. You send a blank look his way and he nods firmly.

“Keep low.” Is all he grunts, feet standing apart and his stare intense. “Copy?”

A swirl of amusement dances in your gut—you tap the earpiece in your shell with a stained streak of blood on your fingers. John stares, unreadable.

“I’ll leave when the streets cool. Just keep on the line so I can relay my intel, Price.” After a moment of silence, your eyes tighten with intrigue. “How do you wonder Baydar knew your face?” Standing by the window again, you peek out and keep John in view. His form shuffles, and he scoffs before walking beside you. Over your shoulder, he also views the buildings and businesses below. You still at the sensation of his breath on the back of your head, hand twitching over the curtain. It ruffles your hair for a moment before you snap out of it, eyes blinking rapidly. “Your Task Force isn’t exactly known,” you finish your sentence, voice strained.

Clearing his throat, as if realizing how close he’d gotten with only the intention of gazing outside, the man’s form jerks back; taking a step or two away to give you distance. Your far-gone eyes blankly continue to look outside but your chest gains some tension to it. You don’t know why.

This Brit is strange. You frown, watching a cat traverse the concrete far below. Not that I really have much to go off of.

“Haven’t a clue.” John sighs again, one hand going to itch at his chin. “Your guess is as good as mine. One thing I do know is that we have to fix this. Now.”

“You should tell Laswell,” you mutter, turning around and walking past him to stand around your packs—all of which hold your gear. Your knife was set into a small sheath inside your shirt, leather wrapped around your waist as you stopped near the coffee table. You pull the lip of your clothes up and grasp at it before peeling the metal out with an inquisitive eye.

If there was any breakage to the tip, you’d be furious.

John watches from across the room, catching glances at your bare skin riddled with scars and burns; unmarred flesh foreign. He feels his breath hitch before you drop your shirt back down and bring the blade into the light.

Holding it parallel, you gaze along the edge and tilt your head, eyelids half-closed.

“Kate?” Price answers you, clearing his throat. “No, it’s better not to create any more shite. She’ll be good off not knowing, yeah?” The brunette’s brow raises in question.

You hum and don’t reply.

The rest of the mission was spent with the two of you conversing over the open line of your comms as you scoured the streets for any sign of the target, feet carrying you over the city as the chill of the late afternoon set in. Presently, you didn’t know how to feel about your situation. Working with others was a strain on your focus—on the walls you’ve built up; John had obviously noticed that you didn’t exactly play well with others. It was plainly stated in your file, after all.

“—attitude, or lack thereof, is a detriment to the structure of any team/unit/platoon that she is placed into under all circumstances. Recommended reserved operations to limit drawbacks.”

Having a pleasant attitude wasn’t your job.

Stalking around the corner, your ears twitch to John’s voice. “Sitrep, Tomb. What’s it looking like out there?”

It was strange, then, that the man over the line was so eager to speak to you. Your sigh hits on deaf ears, and you respond as you carefully walk past civilians making their way home.

“Quiet. No sign.” The silence re-settles and you gradually loosen again. Like a cat, your ears twitch to hear the muttering from the commuters; eyes sliding with watery film across faces.

Baydar owns a restaurant as a front for funding terrorists. Anyone exiting from this direction could be part of it—

“You said you’d never join One-Four-One,” John’s voice makes you shove down a flinch, ripped out of your focus. In your pockets, your hands close into fists, and a deeply annoyed mask fits itself over your expression. “Why’s that, then?”

“What is this?” Your voice goes cold, “interrogation time?”

“With a record like yours, you’d get pick of any Task Force or SOF in country.” The Captain seems to ignore your hiss and jab as his deep voice continues; accent low. You hear the drag of a cigar and the puff of smoke. Internally, you’re thankful for the casual yet attentive acknowledgment of your skills—how the man doesn’t seem in the slightest worried about you. “Why is it that you’re always alone out ‘ere? Couldn’t wrap my head ‘round it, truthfully.” A tobacco-slick chuckle, “Bloody hell, people would kill to get you on a mission like I did, eh? No doubt.”

For a long time, you don’t answer, leaning against the wall across from your target’s restaurant doing recon. Frown tight and face stiff. John’s voice fizzles.

“Ah, fuckin’ forget it Love, just a man’s curiosity speaking for ‘im. I’ll leave you to focus.” Before the line can click, you open your lips—as if the things have a mind of their own.

“People are unpredictable.” The Captain’s breath is gently puffing over the line. He listens and you know he hangs on every word; it was a strange feeling to know that. From under you, your feet shuffle. “They do things that don’t make sense. I don’t like dealing with it.”

A grunt. “Well, can get behind that…” John had a smirk on his lips, you can hear it. “You’d lose your head if you met MacTavish.”

Your focus waning, you blink, getting sucked into this strange interaction with an even stranger man.

“Yeah?” You wonder, head tilting to the side. “One of yours?”

“Hm,” he affirms and the chill of the night caresses your skin. John chuckles. “Sergeant. Bloody good shot, but can get into trouble faster than his fucking gun can fire.”

Your mouth quirks. “Sounds horrible.”

“Makes my job a living hell,” John admits and you shock yourself by listening. “But no one better to keep by my six…You’d ease up to him.”

“I’m not joining, Price,” Your voice mutters out like how a dragonfly snaps its translucent wings on still air. “This is it.”

In the safehouse, John hums under his breath, staring out the window at the blinking lights of the city as you watch the restaurant with far-off thoughts. A smile twitches his lips. For some reason there was something about you he wanted to figure out—something to unravel. You were like Ghost sometimes, but more… fascinating. Darker.

And you knew how to get the job done better than anyone.

John wanted you on his Task Force, your expertise, and the only way to get that was to take you apart like a puzzle of razor blades. Study you. Learn you as the edges cut up his flesh. The Captain had no idea what picture you’d make when everything was in its proper place, but he’d be willing to try with the very tenacity that had gotten him this far.

But there was something else there, too. Some kind of tightness in his chest when you looked at him; he'd gotten it when he’d seen you on the tarmac back not so long ago like some schoolboy. Those blank eyes of yours…why did he want them to light up?

Why did he want to see your laugh?

John wasn’t immature enough to not know his own feelings or attractions, but this was an entire section of its own. Blinking, the man grunts to himself and smirks. “Well, better make it last, then.”

You feel your eyelids carefully pull in surprise.

“I…” Your voice starts but dies off, swallowing saliva down as your mouth clacks shut with a connection of teeth. Closing your eyes, you steady your heart, which had suddenly created a concerning skip in its beats.

John places the cigar back to his lips and takes a long drag, leaning out of the window to watch the smoke disappear into the twinkling lights. Lips peeling his beard hairs back.

—

As it turned out, the mission in Turkey wasn’t the only time you’d have to deal with John Price, and it certainly wasn’t the last time you’d see his face in front of yours. One mission turned into two—two into three and so on. You hadn’t exactly wanted it, but you found you couldn’t turn him down either.

At whichever base you were stationed at, all of a sudden he’d just show up; standing on the tarmac with his arms crossed and that casual set to his shoulders. The first time you’d seen him after Turkey, you had half convinced yourself he was a mirage. And then he’d smirk at you and tilt his head and you’d have no control over your words.

It was pathetic…disgusting…it was…it was…

You shake yourself back to the present when a bullet whizzes past your head, a sharp call from across the utter warzone you’d found yourself in the middle of.

“Tomb, what in the hell’s wrong with you?!” John’s voice is harsh, and you lock onto it. “Get your gun up!”

You sigh, unperturbed. Peaking past the large crate you use as cover, your eyes glare at the enemy soldiers across the dock, fixing your finger’s position over your M4A1. The small unit you’d been dragged into by John was mostly dead—only four of you remaining from the ten.

It wasn’t supposed to go down like this.

Jerking back, a splintering of wood explodes in front of you as the next fast piece of metal nearly takes your nose off. With a grit of your teeth, you flick your safety off and swivel your shoulders.

Popping from the top of the crate, your sharp eyes lock onto the first visible body before you press your finger to the trigger with practiced ease as the word shrieks all around you. Recoil is eaten into the padded kevlar of the junction of your shoulder and arm.

When you dart back, the body has yet to hit the ground.

“There she is!” John calls, and you look forward with a steady stare as the brunette laughs from behind his own crate a few feet away. “Keep your head in the game, Tomb.”

You frown, normal facemask back over your chin hiding it. While you loathe to admit it, John had grown on you in these…what was it…? Months? Yes, that seemed about right.

Months of joint missions. You could hardly believe that he’d dragged you out like this.

“Tell the others to flank,” Your voice whisps over the line like smoke, “Left side—there’s a gap in the crates.”

John looks you in the eyes and blinks, eyelids twitching. With his beard covered in gunpowder, the man looks across the open space between the gunbattle to the left. Sure enough, right before he’s forced to snap back down to cover, the Captain spies a very well-hidden gap in the defenses.

He smiles viciously like a dog, and barks a laugh to you, nodding, “Good eye! Boys,” the two don’t pause their assault but call their questioning voices over the line. You don’t listen, occupied with giving off bursts of gunfire and trying to avoid the eyes of your fellow dead soldiers. Your lungs are compressed inside of your ribcage like prisoners. “Flank left. We’ll cover you!”

“Sir!” Steadying your breath, you avoid John’s confused glances and scoff to yourself, resituating your clammy hands.

When all’s said and done the four of you are the only ones left. Letting your gun sit on your chest you use the body as an armrest, allowing it to hang off the side from the trigger-guard. Your fingers twitch, and as John speaks to the two men, you stare silently at the gushing bodies of your fellows like phantoms spring from their chests.

John’s voice slows when he sees you apart from them, glancing at the soldiers at your feet before ordering the remaining men to get to the evac point. They try to argue everyone should be going together, and on all accounts, they’re completely right, but John won’t hear it.

“Go—that’s an order.” Reluctantly, the two glance at each other and speed off.

You jolt at a call of your name, head turning to face stormy blue as they gaze at you with concern. Stopping a few feet away, John stands still and folds his arms, face going rigid with concern as he glances you over for wounds.

His head slightly leans in, chin down.

“...You alright?” Hand flinching, you clear your throat.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You ask, fixing the position of your feet and forcing away the images of dead bodies and blank eyes.

You’d seen scores of men dead before—friend and foe—but you had thought you’d never have to see more of your own fall. It had been a long time since you’d felt the distant lull of numb horror in the back of your brain; like some ocean wave that drowns you under every time it comes back. It always comes back.

John narrows his eyes and frowns deeply, glancing around and hiding the slight way his right arm sags.

“Tomb?” He says it so lowly that you really have to focus, ears straining. That gravel was back, and you found yourself latching onto it. “Eh, you just focus on me, yeah? I’m right ‘ere.”

“I know,” you snap, eyes shuttering away only to find more vacant stares. You flinch back and look up into the sky; a sudden burn in your brain that you need to quell.

The man grows even more concerned with you, taking a step forward and clenching his jaw. He studies you, your shaking tension and the clench and loosening of your fists—attention always on you but roving to the dead men all around. Something clicks with a violent inhale.

John moves to you without a word and grasps you around the shoulders quickly. You gasp at that, immediate reaction to shove away, but only gape at the warmth that he brings you instead—the steady presence and chest to lean on. As the Brit drags you, you focus instead on calming your breathing.

The Captain lightly shimmies down your facemask and you suck down tight air as you go limp into his side.

“C’mon, Tomb. It’s alright. I’m here. I’m right here.” He’s muttering to you, disguising his pained grunts in favor of taking care of you.

That strange affection for you had grown in your time together…not that he’d said anything. It was more proper of him to watch out from a distance, not sure of your own feelings or the probability of you gazing back at him with the same amount of concealed longing. Many a night he’d sat on his bed and wondered. Wondered how an animal so extraordinary and remarkable took the form of a woman with a black sphinx patch and sharp eyes.

John had heard you laugh once through your expeditions together—sniping in Greenland. Once had been enough; if he never heard it again, he could still recall the pitch and frequency to the yawning of his soul. He didn’t need to hear it again.

It was locked into the fabric that made up your skin and speech, and every time he stared at you he could find it in your eyes.

The Captain puts you down near a crate around the corner, letting you lean into it as he turns and captures your neck from either side. You shake under him, blurry vision stuck to his dog tags as they wink against his chest.

“Tomb,” John says again, and with a lick of your chapped lips, you carefully turn your head up. Blue eyes crease worriedly. The thumbs on the sides of your neck caress up and down your rapid pulse steadily; calluses creating stimuli. A small smile meets you. “There we are, atta girl. Focus.”

Tears dribble down your cheeks, and you flatten your lips, whispering out brokenly, “I said I don’t like teams.”

John’s heart breaks.

“Oh, Sweetheart,” his hand captures the back of your head and you’re brought into a deep and firm embrace—gear pinching and prodding but neither of you care.

When was the last time you’d been held like this? The feeling makes your mouth quiver, your face stuck into the junction of the Brit’s neck and shoulder.

“John…” You whimper out and his arms around you only tighten—his tense nose shoved into your scalp as his eyes closed tightly.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, heart racing, “I’m so, so, sorry.”

You don’t know long he holds you there, the air filled with blood and death but just so soundly resting atop his vest and limp to his gentle swaying. The tears dry at some point, they always have to. Sniffling, your burning face takes in the scent of beard oil and gunpowder and you find yourself calmed by it.

Calmed by John.

The man holding you waits a moment more before he slightly leans back, staring down at you intently; nervously. You lick at the tears drying into the line of your mouth to taste the saltiness on your tongue as fingers grasp at your chin.

Angled up, your face is on full display.

John sighs and the drowned keratin of your lashes flutters, embarrassment flooding you. His eyes crease before his hands come up to take away your sorrows with a soft brush of his digits. The man clears his throat tinily, voice deep with emotion.

“Better?” Your eyes dip away from his, knowing you’d been staring.

“I…” Glancing over his right shoulder absentmindedly, you only get a word off before you see a fountain of red. Blinking away the last of your tears, John’s finger on your cheek stops moving as you freeze—stiff to the touch.

His panic spikes again.

“What’s going on—”

“When did you get hit?” Your voice is hard and laced with something you can’t name. Shaving back from John you frantically grab at his arm. In an instant, the Captain is whirled around and shoved back into the crate; he grunts loudly, eyes snapping wide.

“Fuckin’ hell.” He grumbles, but flinches when you peel at the bloodied layers of his compression shirt. John smirks, letting your touch rove him as your nose scrunches. He represses a shiver at the bite of your nails, whispering out, “If you wanted to throw me ‘round, Love…all you had to do was ask.”

You blink rapidly and turn your fast gaze to his eyes as you stutter, fingers covered in blood and holding apart the fabric of his outfit to show a bullet graze to his pale upper bicep. John’s cheeky smirk grows and against all the pain and the dark corners, you feel a bubbling in your gut.

A small chuckle snakes out, like twinkling bells.

“Shut up,” your smile leaves him breathless, smirk falling to a small open-mouthed screen of obvious admiration. A hum marks the back of his throat, eyebrows loosely curving upon his forehead.

You look over and find him like this—his gaze trapping you like his arms had. Like music, it takes you into its melody. Staring, your smile, gradually too, leaks out.

“What are you doing?” Your question is breathy. "What is your fascination with me?" John’s eyes stick with you, the shining, shimmering, blue. There are tempests held there and if this man was anything, he was a storm of intentions and promises.

“Looking,” John answers lowly. "Just looking."

You take down a breath, “At what, John?”

He chuckles at you, face close and pleasant, “Y’know, I haven’t quite figured that one out yet, Love.”

Blindly you wonder how the world can still turn while you both stand here—was it, even? How can life go on when such things are uttered to light? When they’re buried deep into your marrow like the dirt on top of a grave?

How can the Reaper knock at your doorways when love exists in such quantity…in the fractures of his eyes? Only when his lips brush yours do you understand.

It’s all here, and then it’s gone. Nothing can truly be as it was in the past, and therein lies the small, glorious, deaths. Both a blessing and a curse.

Your lips press deeply into one another and the blood of old wounds dries.

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daportalpractitioner · 4 months

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mommy's moon sign: a thread ☾ part one — aries thru virgo

in a previous post, i mentioned that your mother's moon sign is very important in the sense that it tells us about the energy that was housing us during our prenatal development when we are baking in our mother's womb. during prenatal development, we are able to download our mother's experiences during pregnancy, emotions, attitudes, behaviors, and karmic patterns into our own DNA. the cosmic energy of her womb space tells us about patterns + themes that potentially lie dormant within our bodies with the desire to be either expressed or karmically released + healed for our highest good.

aries moon: your mother may have dealt with feeling misunderstood from a very early age due to her karmic responsibility to be a pioneer in this lifetime. even if she grew up close with her family, a part of her may have felt like she didn't fit in with the expectations that her parents had for her. the pain that aries moon mom carries in her womb stems from feeling like she has to do everything by herself + could also have had a pattern of attracting partners that she didn't feel supported by (classic single mom placement). a karmic lesson for aries moon mom to learn is to fully trust her feminine nature instead of constantly operating in her masculine so that she can attract the support that she has always desired since childhood. if you're a child of an aries moon mom, you could also have a pattern of experiencing loneliness + finding it difficult to cultivate supportive spaces because you witnessed your mom be so independent even in times where she didn't want to be. it's also not uncommon for children of aries moon mothers to exhibit or pass down disorganized attachment behaviors to their children. encourage each other to let other people help + support you. encourage each other to welcome vulnerability into the connection + value the act of processing/healthily releasing your emotions, especially rage.

taurus moon: mothers with an exalted moon usually do a great job at making their children feel safe, nurtured, and provided for on a physical + emotional level. when pregnant with you, your mother could have really valued her pregnancy + put lots of energy into preparing for your arrival. she could be very sensitive to your needs without even considering her own. from an early age, taurus moon mom had to learn to rely on herself to get things done first + foremost especially if she came from poverty or an unstable household. the self-esteem of your mother during pregnancy is crucial to your karmic imprint as you easily embed the way she feels about herself into your DNA + eventually grow to exhibit the same self-esteem patterns. it's important for the taurus moon mom to feel safe using her voice + exercising boundaries, especially when it comes to herself and what SHE needs. encourage each other to practice self-care + self-preservation. take yourselves out on nice mother/child dates. the key for taurus moon mom is to learn how to stop operating in survival mode, to welcome rest into her lifestyle + to not let motherhood become an experience that depletes her.

gemini moon: your mama may have dealt with a lot of movement (physical or mental) while pregnant with you, jumping from one place to another. the energy of a gemini moon's womb breeds natural chaos. focusing on tasks may have been a challenge for your mother, which tends to manifest into self-neglect due to being so preoccupied with the matters of the world. even if you haven't been diagnosed with ADD/ADHD or some form of neurodivergence, the expression of this mental energy can definitely be dormant in your DNA due your mother absorbing information to a hypersensitive degree during pregnancy. intentionality is key to foster a secure + safe relationship with a gemini moon mother as there is this tendency to develop preoccupied attachment patterns. make sure that you are really listening to each other instead of allowing words to go in one ear + out the other. communication goes a long way in cultivating a healthier relationship to mama. encourage each other to prioritize mental health + doing activities that feel nourishing to the brain (reading, writing, immersing selves in nature, art, etc). also, make sure that you're holding your gemini moon mother to her word if she is notorious for switching up.

cancer moon: your mother's pregnancy was undeniably significant to her on a karmically spiritual level. your ancestors, especially maternal, really do not play about you two as they protected your mother heavily when she carried you. giving birth to you was no mistake as your soul chose to expand her bloodline. cancer moon mothers may have went through their own personal issues with their mother (your grandma) that they hold resentment from in their wombs. these tensions are meant to be transmuted into breakthroughs for generational healing + curse breaking. her maternal instincts are her superpower, being able to guide you in any situation you need help in. even if you're not close with your cancer moon mom, her love does remain unconditional as she recognizes that you are a part of her + she is a part of you. even though mothering comes natural to the cancer moon mom, she easily could have felt the weight of motherhood + remained passive about how much of a responsibility it was, carrying all that load by herself. whether your mother was able to breastfeed you or not says a lot about the karmic disposition between you + your mama.

leo moon: your leo moon mother may have been super excited to be a mother yet also dealing with adjusting to the level of maturity required to be a mom. becoming a mother was probably not on her bingo card the year that you were conceived so the necessary growth that needed to take place was challenging + unexpected. motherhood may have triggered a sense of fear in your mother during her pregnancy with you because she didn't want to part with her youth just yet (classic teenage mom placement). regardless of her situation, she takes pride in being a mother + is very protective over her cub(s). she's the type of mother you can call to cuss out the school when there's an issue. i'd encourage you to keep her inner child alive + well by spending quality time doing things that make you both happy. leo moon mamas usually pass down at least one of their passions to their children, especially if they engaged with that passion during pregnancy. they love spending time with their children more than anything so don't be afraid to do something wild + fun that can free your mother's inner child. when your mom is connected to her inner child, it also connects her deeper to motherhood for she is able to relate to the experience of a child more + is able to distribute compassion to her child(ren) when needed.

virgo moon: it's not uncommon for virgo moon mothers to have experienced lots of angst when pregnant with you, especially if this was their first pregnancy. what isn't expressed + released in a healthy way stays trapped in the mind of the virgo moon mom, manifesting into anxiety. if anxiety was a theme for your mother while she was pregnant with you + it remained undealt with, then there's a big possibility that anxiety is something you've experienced on a chronic level as well. virgo moon mothers also deal with overcoming perfectionism — wanting to the perfect mother + projecting perfectionism onto her child(ren), so if you mother was hard on you growing up, that is why. if you are challenged by the illusions of not being good enough, this is probably something you've also picked up on from your mom during your time in her womb. but because of their will + dedication to be the best, virgo moon moms make very good caretakers as they are empathically connected to the needs of their children + are not satisfied until they can tell that their children are satisfied. even when virgo moon moms can be tough on their kids, remember that they are their own toughest critic + they really do mean well. i'd recommend being of service to your mother in any way that can lighten the load on her as virgo moon mothers tend to have a lot of their to-do lists. words of affirmation also goes a long way in gifting them peace of mind, especially from their children as they tend to be overthinkers when it comes to motherhood.

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astrosky33 · 4 months

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What are higher octaves?

Higher octave planets in astrology can show us planets that are similar to others but just have heightened energy to them. This doesn’t mean that they are “more superior” just that the energy is intensified. Now I know some of you may say “but outer planets signs are generational” and yes that is true but the houses of the outer planets are not. Make sure to check those

The Higher Octaves

Neptune is the higher octave of Venus: Venus represents love, beauty, and art itself but Neptune brings it to a higher and more spiritual level

✧. ┊Example: Having Venusian energy can cause you to be very beautiful to a lot of people but having Neptunian energy in your chart can not only cause you to be beautiful, to others but for people to glamorize your beauty and idealize you. “I want to be you” level of beauty

✧. ┊Example 2: Venus represents love but Neptune takes love to a more spiritual level in making it universal love and deep spiritual connectional romance. This is why Venus conjunct Neptune in Composite Charts is a twin flame aspect

Uranus is the higher octave of Mercury: People often think this means Uranian energy is a more intelligent energy than Mercurial energy, but this is false. It simply means that Uranus’ energy will run counter to and transform any behaviors of the left brain (which is the logical function of Mercury) into inventions and real ideas

✧. ┊Example: Someone who has lots of Mercurial energy will be better at speaking/putting ideas out there. Someone who has Uranian energy will be better at bringing ideas to life and inventing things

Pluto is the higher octave of Mars: Pluto takes Mars energy and turns into more mysterious, secretive, and darker energy. Mars represents conflicts and Pluto destroys and renews your life in order to resolve this conflict. Pluto makes us stronger and more powerful

✧. ┊Example: Mars represents desire and Pluto represents infatuation/obsession. So, say you have more Pluto aspects in one Composite Chart with someone and more Mars aspects in another. You’re more likely to be more magnetized to the 1st person because Pluto intensifies Mars desire

✧. ┊Example 2: Mars represents lust/sexual desire and Pluto intensifies this energy by representing sex and intimacy

Ceres is the higher octave of the Moon: The Moon represents the mother, care, and nurturing energy. Ceres is all the same things but more about our spiritual security and sense of belonging on Earth. Ceres raises the Moon’s vibration and consciousness. Ceres represents the highest vibration of the divine feminine

✧. ┊Example: Having a Moon-Ceres aspect in Composite Charts can cause extreme attachment between two people

Quaoar is the higher octave of Jupiter: Quaoar represents a new reality or perspective while Jupiter represents how we manifest success into reality and new opportunities. Quaoar is about the aftermath of our success and our ability to bring our desires to life

✧. ┊Example: Someone with Quaoar aspecting Jupiter or Neptune would be a strong manifestor and naturally gain success through their strong belief in themselves

Varuna is the higher octave of Saturn: Saturn is about needing control to feel powerful. Varuna is about being in charge without the need of control/power. Saturn shows challenges that bring rewards while Varuna shows loss of reputation that leads to gains involving reputation/fame

✧. ┊Example: Varuna conjunct Saturn in your natal chart can indicate long term fame but that before experiencing it you will encounter many obstacles

#higher octave #higher octaves #astro community #astrology #zodiac #astro placements #astrology tumblr #astro chart #birth chart

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morganbritton132 · 10 months

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You probably get this all the time, and I don't know why I only thought about this now, but I'm suddenly fascinated by the idea of a government employee who knows about the Upside Down that has been tasked with keeping an eye on Eddie's TikTok page and just constantly being so frustrated

I never get this but I have thought about it at length!!! Lol.

I just picture one overworked and underpaid agent being tasked with the whole *hand waving* Hawkins Situation.

There used to a time when the Hawkins Project was a coveted position given to the best agents with the highest clearance, but now… Now all the gates to the other world have been closed. There’s been no activity in three decades. Brenner’s dead. The Russians defuncted their projects. The girl – Eleven or Jane, or whatever – hasn’t blown anything up since the nineties.

The Hawkins job is a babysitting job with CIA-level clearance, and it’s just… it was supposed to be a cakewalk but. There’s just… there are so many of them.

And for a while, they were spread all over the country.

One of them is a US Senator now and she called the head of the FBI ‘a bitch’ and ‘a coward’ on a hot mic last week, and maybe.

Maybe for the sake of national security and their own sanity, maybe this agent pulled a few strings and dotted a few more I’s than they’re authorized to just to get Lucas Sinclair, Maxine Mayfield-Sinclair, Dustin Henderson, Nancy Wheeler, and Robin Buckley back in Chicago.

Maybe they did that. There’s no paper trail, but maybe they did.

It’s easier to keep track of a ‘party’ of people if most of them are in the same state.

This Party – as they fondly call themselves – barely qualified as a threat anymore. They are barely a concern at this point. Only a few of them are considered dangerous enough to require anything more than the occasional check-in. Those people being Jane Hopper, James ‘Jim’ Hopper, Nancy Wheeler, Murray Bauman, and – much to this agent’s annoyance – Edward Munson.

Eddie wouldn’t be a cause for concern if he wasn’t so goddamn loud. He is in no way a threat to national security but the CIA doesn’t love when people allude to a defuncted Cold War project that resulted in an inter-dimensional serial killer murdering a bunch of small town high school students.

This agent does not believe that Eddie Munson knows what an NDA is or that he signed one.

It is one thing to write songs about demon bats and hell spilling into small town Americana or to make your album cover resemble the charred remains of Henry Creel’s disfigured body (‘yeah’ the agent thinks, ‘you’re not that slick, Munson’) but it is something else to announce to your millions of TikTok followers that you got rabies in a hell dimension.

This agent does not have enough pull to persuade Congress to outright ban TikTok and actually thinks that a TikTok ban would be an overreach of government control, but damn if it would not have made their life easier. Though they fear that Munson would just go to YouTube and the idea of longer content makes them shiver.

And by the way, this agent expected better from Steven Harrington!

This agent liked Steve! He was one of their favorites!!

Steve didn’t make waves. He lived a quiet life, paid his taxes, and barely had a social media presence. He was an absolute dream to be monitoring until Eddie downloaded that cursed clock app.

Steve was never viewed on the same threat level as Jane Hopper or Murray Bauman, but he was a closely monitored subject due to his long-term injuries and his time spent in the alternate dimension and the Russian bunker under Starcourt Mall. Despite close monitoring, there is no note in his file of any digression until Eddie started shoving Tiktok in his face.

This agent sits in their office at the CIA’s Chicago location.

In the basement, at the end of a long dusty corridor, beneath a buzzing fluorescent light, they get a notification on their computer. It’s from Tiktok, and this agent breathes in slowly. They rub at the forming headache between their brows and names it Eddie Munson.

They click the notification, waits a second for the shitty wifi to bring them to the app, and watches as Steve Harrington says, “Technically we’re time travelers.”

And they sigh.

#Two things I love: (1) Steve being the only one that truly thinks they’re being spied on and #(2) some guy in a middle management-like job having to keep track of all the dumb shit they do #this agent is the reason Eddie gets stopped by the TSA every time he flies. It’s revenge #eddie munson tiktok saga #steve harrington #eddie munson

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sumaya432 · 7 months

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Building the World’s Greatest Companies

We first specialized in Robotics, then semiconductor, becoming market leaders in every sector of technology. We are experts in each sector we focus today.

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qweerhet · 2 years

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dear 18+ discord server owners:

this:

is how you avoid legal liability for anyone lying about their age to access 18+ content within your server. if your channels (and server, if you’re on iOS) are properly marked as 18+, you do not have further legal liability for anyone knowingly lying to gain access to the content in your server.

furthermore, asking for censored versions of someone’s legal documents is incredibly unsafe.

no-one should ever send photos of their legal documents to anyone who has not verified they have received the proper certification and training to handle legal documents, and no-one should ever send those photos over an unverified channel (i.e. discord DMs, twitter DMs, a random person’s texting number).

this applies to censored versions of your legal documents.

there are certain paid courses you can take to prove you are capable of handling sensitive information (a broad classification of personal information that includes photos of legal documents). any company that requires you to upload sensitive information to access their services has internal training policies for any employees handling said information (often making use of those paid courses), and uses specific programs to handle said information without storing it on servers and to limit the possibility of said information being leaked or breached in some way.

if an organization (including an informal one like a discord server) does not have those training programs and does not use those programs to handle your data, they are dangerous and you should not give them your information. if your organization (including an informal one like a discord server) is asking for that sensitive information without staff going through this training and using certified and safe methods of collecting this information, you are creating a dangerous environment. it doesn’t matter how much you trust your mods; legal documentation is a big fucking deal and handling it requires a massive dedication to data security.

if you are really, sincerely worried about facing legal consequences for someone lying about their age via discord’s built-in age verification, to the point that you feel the only way to avoid legal liability is to handle photos of your members’ legal documents, you need to commit to the highest level of data security to run that server.

reblogs are appreciated because honestly the fact that i keep seeing people acting like this is a normal or OK thing to request is insane.

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buckrecs · 10 months

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Bodyguard!Bucky

masterlist | req masterlist

SERIES

Seeing Red by @mypoisonedvine

bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself. except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.

One Last Job by @sunriserose1023

Bucky Barnes is retired. He did a stint in the Army, did a stint as a Secret Service agent, even dabbled in the private sector, but that’s over. Now, he just wants to rest in the solitude he’s found in a cabin in the Adirondacks, with only his memories to get him through the sleepless nights. Until his best friend comes to him with a special request. One last job, protecting the movie star sister of an old Army buddy. She’s being stalked, getting death threats, but that’s nothing they haven’t dealt with before.

wrong choice, right places by @mvtthewmurdvck

never wanting to work for him or protect his fiancé, falling for you was the last thing he should do—especially when his boss was zemo, who now ran most of the city.

Safe with me by @bitsandbobsandstuff

When an unknown threat enters your life, protection is offered at the highest level. As Bucky Barnes comes into your life, the game changes, and you realise falling for the man tasked with keeping you safe is the last thing you expected.

Written in the Stars by @prettyyoungtragedy

You’re the type of woman who is headstrong and fiercely independent. Heiress to a fortune and one of the most brilliant minds of the 21st century. Until you’re forced into witness protection. Your “Protection” turns out to be 220 pounds of dreamy, sassy, delightful Bucky Barnes. Whatever could go wrong?

You’re Mine, Sunshine by @theeleggymeggy

Bucky gets picked by a very rich and respected man to be his daughter’s personal bodyguard. The Father warns him that it won’t be an easy job, that she is a brat and difficult to deal with. But what happens when Bucky meets you and you’re the complete opposite?

ONESHOT

Shopping by @quarantined-with-bucky

Bucky’s paid to be your bodyguard and you’re, well, kind of a bitch.

Sunday is s Family Day by @lazyangeltreemoney

You’re stubborn, annoying and hot as hell which seems to be an awful combo to mix with Bucky Barnes. However one day he realises he got you all wrong and now there’s a little kid in the mix that needs both of your help.

Not so Forbidden by @vanillanaps

You were upset after a mishap that happened so your favorite bodyguard came to comfort you with good news.

Under The Burning Sun by @kinanabinks

The Winter Soldier is assigned to be your bodyguard, covertly protecting you from many assassination attempts. One day, he has no choice but to reveal himself to you.

Protecting What’s His by @jobean12-blog

Bucky has been your bodyguard for some time now and it’s been hard to deny how badly you want him to be more than that.

Bodyguard by @subwaysurf45

getting drunk at galas was fun, but not as fun as Bucky taking care of you after.

princess by @buckycuddlebuddy

“honey,” bucky growled, and then moaned. you felt your walls clench around him because of his voice tone.

security blanket by @comfortbucky

reader is having a bad day and Bucky notices and cheers them up.