#Network Observability Solutions

[neilsblog]

The Importance of Network Observability Tools in Modern Organizations

In today’s digital landscape, where organizations rely heavily on seamless network operations, Network Observability tools have become indispensable. These tools provide real-time insights into network performance, ensuring that businesses can optimize their IT infrastructure while maintaining security and reliability. By leveraging advanced technologies such as metrics collection, log analysis,…

[dreamersparacosm]

jeon jungkook - under the checkered flag (part one)

warnings ; none!

prompt ; in which a girl who doesn’t believe in risks takes the biggest one of all—falling for a man who lives for the thrill.

note ; the TikTok that started it all (you need to watch this to envision racer!jk) GUYS I CANT BELIEVE PART ONE IS HEREEEE i hope u lil angels enjoy!

playlist here

series masterlist here

You find yourself standing at the edge of the VIP lounge, the sound of your heels clicking on the smooth marble floor, breaking the gentle murmurs around you.

The tall glass windows open up to a breathtaking view of the track below, where the crowd’s cheers swell and recede like waves, nearly drowned out by the roar of the engines. Yet, here you are, remaining removed from it all, as though encased in a bubble of calm.

The race is unfolding in front of you, a blur of speed and motion that holds the crowd in rapt attention. But not you. You’re not here for the spectacle. You’re here because you unfortunately have no choice.

If it were up to you, you would be curled up at home with a good book.

Your world normally exists in the quiet hum of spreadsheets and contracts, in the tick of a clock that keeps perfect time with your efficiency. You’re the one who makes sure the numbers line up, the one who offers solutions from behind the scenes while others bask in the glory. The event, with its flashing lights and intoxicating energy, is nothing more than background noise to you. The true task at hand are your clients; pleasing them, keeping them content, ensuring they leave with what they need.

Around you, they chatter excitedly about the race, discussing drivers with fervor, as if each name carries the weight of a story, a legend. You smile politely when needed, nodding along to their enthusiasm. It’s part of the job, after all. But the adrenaline, the hunger for victory, the dizzying rush of competition.. none of it calls to you.

Your clients are electric with excitement, each eager to bask in the glamour of it all. They laugh, they network, they try to rub elbows with the important people in the room, as if each conversation could bring them closer to something more. You, however, remain at the fringes, a quiet observer of the spectacle. You sip your drink, a touch too sweet for your taste, but it’s expected. You nod politely, always maintaining your composure, never letting them see the distance you’ve carefully cultivated.

The cars race by in a blur of metallic color, their engines a symphony of power and precision. But you stand untouched, removed from it all, an island of quiet in the midst of a storm. Your thoughts drift, but not far, always circling back to the task at hand. You are, after all, a woman of purpose.

Still, the world around you shifts ever so slightly. The energy is palpable, like the thrum of an engine idling before it roars to life.

You’re in the middle of a conversation with Nari, one of your clients, who’s standing beside you, happily chatting away about the race. It’s not an unpleasant exchange, though you keep it measured, carefully maintaining the reserved, corporate presence that’s expected of you. You listen, nodding at appropriate intervals, offering the occasional smile as she recounts the excitement surrounding the event.

Nari, unlike the others in your circle, doesn’t seem to care about the business aspect of the evening as much. She’s enjoying herself—really enjoying herself, letting her enthusiasm radiate out. She’s warm, and that makes her easy to talk to, even if you remain a bit distant in the conversation.

Then, in the middle of a sentence, she slaps your arm not once, but twice. The suddenness of it makes you blink in surprise, your mind instantly jumping to work. You glance at her, half-expecting her to make some point about the contract or a deadline that’s come up.

But when you turn to her, Nari isn’t looking at you with business eyes. She’s gazing intently at the track, eyes wide with awe. “Look!” she says, voice full of excitement.

You glance down at the racing circuit below, but everything is a blur—a sea of people cheering, the cars zipping by at breakneck speeds. You don’t understand what’s drawing her attention, but you follow her gaze to the far end of the track.

And then you see it.

A man stands near the pit crew, a figure who stands out effortlessly, almost as though the world around him fades away. It’s not just his presence—it’s the way the crowd reacts to him. Eyes are locked on him, whispers swirl, and every now and then, a fan cheers what you assume is his name in admiration.

Nari catches the look on your face and laughs softly. “That’s Jeon Jungkook,” she says, her voice tinged with something you can’t quite place, something between awe and admiration. “You’ve heard of him, right?”

You shake your head, still a little lost. “Should I have?” you ask, keeping your tone polite, though it’s laced with curiosity.

Her eyes widen in disbelief. “He’s only one of the best race car drivers in the world. This whole event is basically about him. I would die for just 10 minutes alone with him.”

You follow Nari’s gaze again, watching as “Jungkook” moves with effortless confidence, his every step showcasing a quiet, undeniable power. His race car driver’s suit hugs his frame, the white fabric lined with dark accents and the bold logos of his sponsors. The suit, though simple in design, speaks of his place in this world—the world of speed, danger, and high stakes. It’s pristine, a sharp contrast to the messiness of the pit area, yet he fits into it as if he belongs there completely.

But it’s not just the suit that catches your attention. There’s something magnetic about him. The lip piercing—just a small glint of silver beneath his lower lip—gives him an edge, while the eyebrow piercing above his sharp eyes seems to dare the world to approach him. His hands, resting casually at his sides, are covered in tattoos—delicate yet bold designs that snake up his fingers and wrists, visible even beneath the sleeves of his racing suit. His dark hair, tousled just enough to look effortless, adds to the allure, making him seem like a man who’s too cool to care and too talented to be ignored.

You can’t help but look him over. He’s a stark contrast to anyone you’ve known, his raw energy, his daring look, the kind of man you’ve only ever heard about in stories, the kind you’ve never quite crossed paths with. Not that you have much experience in that department. The world you come from is much more… structured. A world of numbers, strategies, and controlled environments. Nothing like this chaotic, exhilarating universe of racing, adrenaline, and the crowds that follow it.

Nari nudges you lightly. “He’s kind of... impossible to miss, don’t you think?”

You nod, still trying to process the whirlwind of everything around you. “I can see that.”

For a moment, you just watch him—a man who seems so comfortable in his world, his confidence radiating with every movement.

Jungkook’s car, marked by his distinctive racing team’s logo, takes its position at the front. He stands next to it, his figure impossibly calm before the storm, waving to the crowd with an easy, practiced smile that seems to light up the entire stadium. The way he moves, the confidence in his every gesture, makes the rest of the world around you blur into the background. All eyes are on him, from the front row of the VIP box to the fans pressing their faces against the barriers.

His smile is magnetic, a gesture that holds the room in its sway, and then, just as quickly as it arrived,he slips behind the wheel, his body moving with a fluidity that hints at a lifetime of discipline. The helmet is a perfect fit, the visor obscuring his face but never hiding the intensity in his posture. His team surrounds him, final checks being made, and then he’s in the car: strapped in, ready to take on the track with the same precision he’s mastered over the years.

You can feel the energy in the room shift, like the collective breath of a thousand people held in unison. As the engines hum louder, the cars tear forward into the first turn, their bodies slicing through the air like knives. You don’t know much about racing, but you can’t help but feel the sheer power, the danger of it all—the skill it takes to navigate at such speeds.

Nari, beside you, is practically vibrating with excitement. She can hardly sit still, her eyes never leaving the track. “I can’t believe I’m here,” she says, her voice a mix of awe and gratitude. She glances at you, her smile wide and genuine. “You’re seriously the best consultant I’ve ever worked with. This event? Amazing! You have to bring me to more of these. I can’t even handle how cool this is!”

You smile, acknowledging her praise, but your attention drifts back to the track. You’ve never seen anything like this before, never experienced a race in person, never felt the air thrum with the excitement of speed and skill. The crowd’s reactions are infectious. Their eyes never leave the cars, their cheers rising and falling with every passing lap. The noise is overwhelming, yet somehow it doesn’t drown out the sharp clarity of the moment. It’s like you can hear the tires gripping the track, the engines growling in perfect synchronization with the heartbeat of the race itself.

And then, there he is again—Jungkook. His car glides effortlessly through each turn, sharp and controlled, never losing speed. It’s almost as if the car is an extension of himself, his hands on the wheel, his foot pressing the pedal, a perfect partnership of man and machine.

The rest of the VIP section is just as absorbed as you are now, their eyes locked on the track. No one seems to care about anything else. All conversations have died down, replaced by the collective focus on the man in the race car. He’s the center of the universe in this moment, and the crowd knows it.

You watch him move, almost hypnotized by the way his car zips around corners, its sleek frame barely brushing the edge of the track. His body remains a steady presence inside the car, every movement smooth, fluid, like he was born to be in this exact moment.

Nari’s voice breaks through your thoughts again, louder this time, almost giddy. “He’s incredible, right? I swear, no one drives like him. He’s untouchable.”

You nod, barely aware of the words you’re saying in response, your gaze still fixed on him. He’s the kind of person who draws attention effortlessly—someone who doesn’t just race; he commands the track, making it seem like the rest of the world moves at a slower pace. It’s almost impossible to look away.

But after a few more minutes of intense watching, everyone seems to fall back into the habit of corporate mannerisms.

The night stretches on, the hours bleeding into one another with a blur of handshakes, small talk, and the kind of polite smiles that never quite reach your eyes. You can feel the weight of the evening in the tightness of your cheeks from all the forced grins, the exhaustion starting to settle into your shoulders. You keep your posture straight, your voice steady, your words measured, as though each conversation is a carefully placed step along the invisible path you’ve created for yourself. But, truth be told, it’s all starting to feel like too much.

The race has come and gone. The crescendo of excitement has dwindled down to polite murmurs and the clinking of glasses, but the energy remains alive in the air, electric, like the hum of a far-off engine. Around you, investors, some of your coworkers, and clients continue their conversations, chirping in your ear with their endless chatter about the race, the drivers, the statistics—everything and anything, as long as it keeps them entertained. And you? You’re just trying to stay afloat, to steer the conversation back to the real reason you’re here: the merger.

You focus on the man in front of you, nodding at the right times, keeping your voice neutral as you slip between sentences about engines and market strategies. Your mind drifts, but you catch yourself, keeping it professional. It’s a balancing act, one you’ve mastered after years of doing the same dance, smiling just enough, listening with enough attention to make them feel heard, but never too much, never enough to let anyone see the quiet retreat inside your head. You nod at the right times, laughing at the jokes that aren’t funny, offering the occasional “That’s right” when a client drones on about the race they just witnessed.

Then, as you try to pull the conversation back toward the merger details with your client—an overly enthusiastic man who seems more interested in talking about his recent investment portfolio than the deal at hand—you hear it.

A ripple. A whisper. A soft murmur of voices, high-pitched and full of excitement. Female voices. And then, the faint sound of heels clicking against the floor, echoing slightly in the VIP box.

You don’t immediately turn, but the shift in the room is subtle. The air grows thicker with anticipation, the laughter quieter, as though everyone is holding their breath. It’s only when a few heads turn, followed by more murmurs, that you realize what’s happening.

Someone important has entered the VIP box.

Someone you recognize from Nari’s earlier fangirling.

Jungkook.

The shift is almost imperceptible at first, a movement in the periphery of your vision that catches your eye, a figure so distinct, so naturally commanding, that it’s hard to miss. He’s not making an announcement, not demanding attention. He simply enters, and it’s as if the room bends around him, reshaping itself in a way that makes him the undeniable center of gravity. His presence is magnetic. Without even trying, he draws every pair of eyes in the room to him.

You hear the soft laughter of women who have gathered around, trying to look casual, trying to seem unbothered, but the way they adjust themselves, the quick flickers of glances—they can’t help but steal a look at him. And you? You feel the sudden pressure of the moment, his presence now hanging thick in the air like an unspoken truth.

You try to keep your focus on the client in front of you, but your gaze inevitably slips toward him. There he is, still in his racing suit, but now a little looser, his jacket untucked as he walks through the crowd. His casual swagger, the way his head tilts slightly as he acknowledges a few familiar faces; everything about him oozes confidence. He’s not trying to be noticed. But somehow, he is.

Your heart races in a different way now, not because of the race, but because of the way he moves, the way the crowd subtly parts to make room for him, as if they know who he is and who they are in comparison. He’s an anomaly, a figure who doesn’t belong to this world of quiet mergers and business deals.

You can feel a flutter in your chest, an inexplicable tension rising, but you push it down. You can’t focus on that now. You can’t focus on him. Not with the clients still chattering away, not with your responsibilities still weighing heavily on you. Yet, you can’t ignore the way the room feels suddenly sharper, the air charged with an energy you hadn’t felt before.

There’s a soft rustle of clothing behind you, and when you glance back, you see Nari slipping through the crowd toward Jungkook, her excitement evident in the way her eyes brighten. She’s not the only one. The women around the room are shifting, making their way toward him with a subtle urgency, like moths to a flame.

You return to your client, attempting to steer the conversation back to business, but your mind is drifting again. You can’t help it. You’re aware of every shift in the room, every small movement he makes. He hasn’t looked in your direction yet, but you feel the gravity of his presence, his proximity changing the way you see everything in this space.

For a moment, you wonder why everyone is so captivated. What is it about him that makes it impossible for anyone to look away?

Jungkook moves through the crowd with the effortless grace of someone who has long ago learned the rhythm of the world he inhabits. He’s calm, composed, exchanging polite handshakes with the investors who surround him, his presence making each gesture seem deliberate, calculated. The hum of voices rises and falls in time with his movements, the crowd parting for him like a river parting for a stone. He’s not rushing, not in a hurry. He’s here because he belongs here.

As he works the room, the questions swirl in your mind. Why is he here? What’s the connection? You can’t imagine him needing anything from these people—not with his reputation, not with the wealth and fame that follow him wherever he goes. But still, there’s something about the way the investors are all hanging on his every word, leaning in as though his presence is a golden ticket. You can’t help but wonder if it’s all about money, if this event has as much to do with business as it does with the race itself.

The realization is jarring for a moment. You, someone who is used to orchestrating behind the scenes, someone who deals in numbers and contracts, now find yourself in a room where money and power are on display in ways that are almost foreign to you.

The buzz of conversation shifts, and before you can dive back into your thoughts, Nari is suddenly beside you, her voice loud with excitement, a bright flush of energy in her cheeks. “I can’t believe it!” she practically squeals, looking like she might burst. “He just shook my hand—he shook my hand. I need him so badly, you have no idea.”

You blink, caught off guard by the intensity of her words. She’s practically vibrating with excitement, her eyes wide as she looks back toward him. There’s a kind of longing in her gaze, something that makes the entire room seem a little more... charged, as though everyone’s attention is fixated on him in a way that you simply can’t understand.

You nod, offering a half-hearted smile. “Oh, wow.” The words are polite, simple, just enough to acknowledge her enthusiasm without drawing too much attention to yourself. You’re not sure what to say—what can you say? She’s swept up in the excitement of the moment, but you can’t bring yourself to share that same energy.

Instead, you find your gaze slipping to the snack table at the far side of the room. You don’t want to be in the center of all this, don’t want to be caught up in the growing buzz surrounding him. You slide away from Nari, keeping your movements minimal, your presence as unnoticeable as possible.

The snack table is a welcome refuge, quiet, untouched by the frenzy of the crowd. You stand there for a moment, inhaling the sharp, tangy scent of the cheeses and the subtle sweetness of the wine, a quiet comfort in the sea of noise around you. You nibble on a small piece of cheese, your fingers careful and measured as you pop it into your mouth, savoring the simple relief of it.

Your eyes flick to Jungkook once more. He’s still shaking hands, still effortlessly charming those around him with his easy smile. But now, you feel distant from it all. The noise, the chatter, the way people react to him—it’s all so foreign to you. You slip another piece of cheese into your mouth, focusing on the taste, the quiet that surrounds this small corner of the room. It’s easier here, simpler. You don’t need to pretend, don’t need to keep up with the energy everyone else is feeding off.

And for the briefest moment, you wonder if this is how the world of racing works—how Jungkook works. Not for the thrill, not for the rush, but for the way it makes everyone around him move a little differently, makes them feel things they didn’t know they could. The thought doesn’t linger long before you pull yourself back to the present, focusing instead on the taste of the wine, the cool glass in your hand, the familiar comfort of a world you understand.

The hum of conversation from the other side of the room feels distant now, muffled by the quiet solace of the snack table. You nibble on the cheese with a soft sigh of relief, the familiar taste grounding you. The wine has a slight sweetness, and it’s just enough to keep you in the moment, away from the chaos of the night. The tension from before starts to melt away, and for a few seconds, you let your mind wander—distracted, content with the quiet rhythm of the evening.

You hum lightly to yourself, just enough to fill the space around you but not enough to draw attention. The world feels a little more manageable from here, and you savor that, the small comfort of solitude. You barely even notice the shift in the air at first, the subtle change in the atmosphere that suggests someone has approached.

It isn’t until you feel it—the shift of warmth beside you—that you glance to your left.

And there he is.

Jungkook. Standing beside you. His presence is so undeniable, so magnetic, that it feels like the rest of the room fades just for a second. He’s close, closer than you anticipated, and the sharp contrast between his energy and the calmness of your little corner hits you all at once. The way he stands, so comfortably in his own skin, his posture relaxed but undeniably confident, it makes everything else around you seem smaller.

You freeze for a moment, caught off guard, your mouth still full of cheese. You’ve barely swallowed when his voice breaks through the moment, teasing, light. “I think you’re the first person here not begging for my attention,” he says with a sly smile, his eyes glinting with amusement.

For a split second, you almost choke—cheese threatening to go down the wrong way—but you manage to swallow, your throat suddenly tight with nerves. You cough lightly, your cheeks flushing instantly at the way his words sink in. Begging for his attention? You weren’t begging for anything. You hadn’t even expected to be noticed by him at all.

You look up at him, trying to compose yourself, but the sudden proximity makes everything feel a little too overwhelming. You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, the flush spreading across your face, but you don’t dare look away from him. Not with him so close, his smile like a direct challenge to your calm.

He’s even more striking up close, everything you’d caught from a distance now amplified. The faintest trace of cologne drifts in the air, something fresh and woodsy, like a walk through a forest after the rain—sharp, clean, and oddly comforting. His scent clings to the space around you, making it feel like he belongs in this small, intimate moment with you. It’s not overwhelming, but it’s enough to make your pulse race in a way you don’t expect.

His face is sharp, defined in a way that makes you almost forget to breathe. His jawline is strong, perfectly sculpted. But it’s his eyes—those big, dark eyes that hold you, flickering with mischief—that draw you in completely. They’re intense, like he’s looking right through you, and yet there’s an ease to him, a calmness that contrasts the usual intensity of his presence. The smile on his lips is soft, almost like he’s amused by something only he knows.

His racing suit is open at the collar, the fabric still tight enough around his shoulders to highlight the muscle beneath. You can see the tattoos again, this time more defined in the soft light, the intricate designs that snake down his hands and wrists, the way they seem to tell stories of places he’s been, people he’s known. They make him feel untouchable, like someone who belongs to a world you don’t understand.

But what really gets to you, what truly stops you for a moment, is the way he stands so effortlessly. There’s no pretense, no act. It’s just Jungkook—confident, unbothered, and entirely himself. And you, the shy, reserved woman who doesn’t know how to even respond to the comment he just made, find yourself completely at a loss.

You chew the inside of your cheek, still trying to compose yourself, and force a smile, but it’s a weak one, barely holding up under the weight of his gaze. “I—I wasn’t really—” You clear your throat, still feeling a little breathless. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ignore anyone.”

His grin widens, like he’s amused by the awkwardness you’re trying to hide. “No harm done,” he says, his voice low, warm, and entirely too captivating. The way he looks at you, almost like he’s studying you, makes it hard to focus on anything but the feeling of his presence beside you.

In that moment, you realize you’re standing far too close to him. You take a small step back, trying to maintain some sense of space, but the tension between you feels electric, sparking in the quiet gap that’s now between you. His gaze never wavers, though.

There’s a beat of silence between you, one that stretches just long enough for you to feel every little awkward movement, every small shift in your body. You can feel the heat still lingering in your cheeks, but you try to focus on the moment at hand, on the cheese, at least. It’s easier that way.

You glance down at the spread, your hand reaching out without thinking, grabbing another small wedge of cheese, and offering it to him. You can’t help it. It feels like something you should do, a simple gesture to fill the space and keep things light.

“Would you like some?” you ask, your voice far quieter than you’d like it to be. You hold the piece of cheese out toward him, your hand trembling just slightly at the edge of the plate.

Jungkook’s eyes flicker to the cheese for a moment, and then back to you. His lips twitch upward in an amused smile, the kind that seems to reach his eyes as well, making them sparkle in the soft light. He raises an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his gaze.

“No thanks,” he says, his tone warm and playful. “I’m good.”

You nod, feeling a little foolish but trying to brush it off. “Right, of course. You’ve probably had enough to eat before this with all the racing... and the shaking hands,” you add with a faint, awkward laugh, hoping it will hide the embarrassment that’s suddenly crawling up your neck.

The words hang in the air for a moment, and you can feel his gaze still lingering on you—intense, curious, like he’s trying to figure you out. You shift uncomfortably, biting your lip, trying to think of an excuse to slip away. Your mind races, trying to find the perfect moment to exit without drawing too much attention to your awkwardness.

“So, uh…” You clear your throat, trying to sound casual, but the nervousness makes it impossible. “I should probably—uh—get back to my clients.” You take a small step back, but Jungkook doesn’t make it easy. He doesn’t move, doesn’t make any effort to let you go. Instead, he just smiles wider, watching you with that same unshakable intensity.

“You sure?” he asks, almost like he’s genuinely intrigued. His voice drops a little, softer now, but still playful. “You’re not leaving because of me, are you?”

Your cheeks burn again. You wish there was a hole in the floor you could crawl into. Why is he so intense?

“No, no, I just—” You stumble over your words. “Just… a lot of work. You know.” You laugh nervously, but it sounds like something forced, something too hollow.

You can feel the weight of the conversation press in on you, like the walls are closing in with each passing second. You offer a tight smile, hoping it’s convincing. “It was nice talking to you, though. Enjoy the rest of your night.”

You take another small step back, but Jungkook leans in just a little, his voice low enough that it feels like it’s just for you, a private joke between the two of you.

“You know,” he begins, his smile still tugging at his lips, “you’re the first person I’ve met tonight who hasn’t been totally starstruck by me. It’s… kind of refreshing.”

His gaze flickers down to the cheese again, and you see the teasing glint in his eyes. It’s like he’s playing a game, but you’re still trying to catch up.

You glance at the plate again, trying to avoid his gaze. “Well, I wouldn’t want to be too obvious about it,” you say with a nervous laugh, hoping your attempt at humor doesn’t come off completely awkward. “I mean, it’s just cheese.”

Jungkook laughs, and it’s a warm, low sound that seems to make the air around you feel a little lighter. You look up to see that he’s still watching you, his eyes filled with that same curiosity.

You swallow, still feeling the heat of your blush, trying to keep your composure. “I—uh, I’ll let you get back to your…” You glance around the room, trying to find something to distract yourself with. “Fans,” you finish lamely, gesturing vaguely to the women still surrounding him.

He raises an eyebrow, amused, as if your attempt to pull away is both endearing and mildly amusing. “Right. Fans.”

You take another step back, your hand instinctively reaching for your glass of wine, though it’s still mostly full. You can feel the weight of his gaze on you as you start to turn away, but you don’t look back. You can’t. If you do, you’re afraid you’ll never escape this moment with him.

Social interactions were never your strong suit. Better luck next time.

You slip away from the table, but as you move through the crowd, you can’t quite shake the feeling that Jungkook’s presence is following you. You make your way to the group of clients, trying to dive back into the sea of business chatter, but your mind keeps drifting. You catch yourself glancing around the room, as if waiting for something—anything—to pull your attention away from the chaos of the evening.

And then, of course, there’s the unmistakable sound of chatter about Jungkook, quiet but deliberate. You don’t need to turn around to know who won’t shut up—Nari.

She’s yapping away to some of your colleagues, other girls you work with that are swept up by Jungkook. There’s a few moments where you wonder if you should join, take some time to yourself to listen in on what they have to say about him, but you hold yourself back.

You end up spending more time burying yourself in the crowd, talking to any man who has ears. After all, your boss and you were managing the largest merger of the year and it would be incredibly irresponsible not to focus on the task at hand.

However, after twenty minutes of empty conversations and nothing getting you closer to your goal, you excuse yourself to go to the restroom and freshen up.

On your way, you discreetly look around for Jungkook, not like you care, but just out of curiosity. As any sane person would do.

You sigh quietly to yourself, shuffling towards the restroom. As you walk down the hallway, you see a buff figure walking towards you. It really is quite dark in the hallway, they should really—Ah fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Sirens are going off in your head like someone’s under arrest. But it’s too late. He’s already there.

He stops in front of you, blocking your path to the bathroom. “Leaving the snack table so soon?” Jungkook’s voice is light, but there’s something about it that still makes your heart skip a beat. He is close enough for you to feel his presence but not so close that it feels suffocating. His tone is playful, teasing, as if he’s aware of how you’re trying to avoid him.

“I thought you were just getting started with the cheese,” he adds, his lips curling into that mischievous smile again.

You pause, glancing over your shoulder to see if anyone can save you, your expression betraying nothing but a slight flicker of embarrassment. “I, uh… I had to get back to my clients.” Your voice is quieter now, more measured, the words leaving your mouth carefully. You try to stay calm, despite the heat still rushing to your face. “You’ve got plenty of people to talk to, though.”

Jungkook doesn’t seem to be deterred. He leans in slightly, his smile widening, but his gaze softens just enough that you notice the change. “Not everyone, though.” He pauses, his eyes briefly scanning over you. “Everyone else is... well, they’re all talking to me, but no one’s really listening, you know? It’s not the same.”

You bite your lip, trying to maintain your composure. “I’m not sure what to say.”

“No worries,” he says, shrugging like it’s no big deal, the hint of something more vulnerable flashing in his eyes for just a moment. “I’ll talk. You don’t have to.”

There’s a slight playfulness there, but also something more genuine in the way he’s looking at you now. “I’m just curious. You don’t seem like you’re here for all this. The whole… racing thing.”

You blink, surprised by his perceptiveness. “I’m here for work,” you say, your voice almost reflexive. You don’t know why you feel the need to justify it, but you do.

Jungkook’s eyes remain on you, his curiosity still simmering beneath the surface. He doesn’t push, but there’s a quiet persistence in his gaze. “That’s fair,” he says, nodding. “But you know, sometimes... people miss out on the good stuff when they’re too focused on work.”

You can’t help but laugh lightly, though it feels slightly awkward. “I’m not really one for distractions.”

He smirks, eyes dancing with amusement. “I wouldn’t call me a distraction,” he says, voice lowering ever so slightly. “More like… a different perspective.”

You hesitate, unsure of how to respond. Something about the way he’s looking at you makes the air feel thick, but not uncomfortable, just charged with that same curiosity that keeps you on edge. But the last thing you want to do is make things more complicated than they already are.

“I’m not—” You stop yourself, realizing you’re just rambling now. “I’m not really someone who… stands out.” The words slip out before you can stop them, but as soon as they do, you regret it. You want to take them back.

“Hm,” He whispers, leaning in and looking around like he’s sharing a secret with you. “I disagree.”

And with that, he turns on his heel, brushes past you, and disappears back into the room of investors and financial advisors.

｡��:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

It’s a slow Saturday, the kind that moves at its own pace, unbothered by the rush of the world. You savor days like this—quiet, predictable, wrapped in the small comforts of your routine. Grocery shopping, yoga, a few errands. Nothing extraordinary, nothing chaotic. Just peaceful.

You hum softly to yourself as you push your cart down the aisle, scanning the shelves for the last few things on your list. The fluorescent lights above hum just as softly, the occasional beep of a barcode scanner echoing somewhere in the distance.

Your grocery store isn’t a grand, upscale market. It’s just the one closest to your apartment, the same one you’ve been going to for years. It’s the cutest little shop, nothing like those expensive groceries in the middle of the city. You’ve never even spotted a celebrity here, despite Seoul being a city where that should be possible. But that’s fine with you. You prefer the anonymity, the ability to mind your business in your leggings and oversized hoodie, hair barely tamed into a ponytail.

You reach for a box of cereal, standing on your tiptoes to grab it from the top shelf. But the moment your fingers brush against it, disaster strikes.

A domino effect.

One box tips, then another, and before you can react, an entire row of brightly colored cereal boxes comes tumbling down in an avalanche of poor balance and regret.

You yelp softly, scrambling to catch at least one of them, but your coordination fails you miserably. The boxes hit the ground in a loud thud, rolling slightly before settling in a messy pile at your feet.

You stare at the disaster, your brain short-circuiting as you try to decide whether to pretend it never happened or make a run for it. But then.. oh god.

A low chuckle.

A very familiar chuckle.

A chuckle you heard less than 24 hours ago.

You freeze, your entire body stiffening before you slowly turn your head.

And there, standing way too close in your very normal, very not-celebrity-worthy grocery store, is Jeon Jungkook.

Holding a carton of almond milk and pushing a cart full of groceries.

Dressed in a black hoodie, sweatpants, and a backward cap, looking annoyingly good for a man just trying to buy groceries.

You blink, convinced you’re hallucinating. This can’t be real. Why is he here? Why is Jeon Jungkook grocery shopping like a normal person, in your store, might you add?

His grin widens when your eyes meet, pure amusement lighting up his face. “We have to stop meeting like this,” he muses, crouching down to pick up one of the fallen cereal boxes. “Or are awkward encounters just your thing?”

Your soul tries to exit your body.

You open your mouth, but no words come out, your brain still struggling to bridge the gap between last night’s VIP suite and this very ordinary grocery store aisle.

“Are you…?” You trail off, because duh, of course he’s him. There’s no mistaking those tattoos peeking out from under his sleeves, the lip piercing catching the light as he smirks at you like you’re the most amusing thing he’s seen all day.

Jungkook tilts his head, as if waiting for you to finish your sentence. When you don’t, he laughs lightly. “Am I what? Grocery shopping? Yeah. Kind of unavoidable if I wanna eat.”

You blink again, your brain still short-circuiting. “I just— I mean, I didn’t think you did normal things like this.”

His grin turns downright mischievous. “What do you think I do? Have groceries magically appear in my fridge?”

You fluster, feeling ridiculous. “Well… kind of?”

He laughs, shaking his head as he hands you one of the cereal boxes. “Nah, I like picking out my own snacks. What if my assistant gets the wrong ones?” His voice dips slightly, playful. “I take my cereal very seriously.”

You let out an exhale, trying to find your footing in this conversation. “I see,” you murmur, glancing down at the boxes scattered around your feet. “Unfortunately, I seem to have tried to kill them all.”

Jungkook lets out a dramatic sigh, crouching again to pick up more. “Tragic. They never stood a chance.” He looks up at you, eyes twinkling. “But hey, you’re consistent. First nearly choking on cheese, now this. What’s next? Knocking over a fruit stand?”

You groan, covering your face with your hands. “Please don’t remind me about the cheese.”

“But it was my favorite part,” he teases. “Seeing you all flustered.”

You huff, quickly gathering the rest of the cereal and shoving it back onto the shelf. “I wasn’t flustered.”

Jungkook leans against the cart he just now retrieved, his smirk lazy, knowing. “Mmm.” He doesn’t sound convinced at all.

You clear your throat, desperate to change the subject. “So, um… do you always shop here?”

He shrugs. “It’s close to my place. And quieter than those big department stores. Less people trying to take pictures of me while I buy bananas.”

You stare at him. “People take pictures of you while you buy bananas?”

“Oh, yeah,” he deadpans. “One time, a fan took a picture of my shopping cart and started analyzing what kind of guy I was based on my snack choices.”

Your eyes widen. “And what was the verdict?”

Jungkook sighs. “Apparently, my protein bar choices scream ‘emotionally unavailable.’”

You snort. “Well, they might not be wrong.”

His jaw drops in playful offense. “Wow. And here I thought we were getting along.”

You laugh, feeling yourself relax until his expression shifts, something softer in his gaze now. He studies you for a moment before speaking.

“I was actually hoping I’d see you again,” he admits, and your stomach flips violently. “You left so fast last night, I didn’t get the chance to ask for your number.”

Your brain short-circuits again. You blink up at him, completely dumbfounded. “Wait. Why would you want my number?”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow, amused. “Because I want to text you?”

Your mouth opens, then closes. You struggle to find an answer that makes any sense. “But… why?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

You don’t. Not at all.

The idea that he—a man who could have anyone, a man who’s probably been linked to actresses and models and the kind of women who look like they belong in his world—would want to text you is beyond comprehension.

So you do the only thing you can think of.

You smile politely and say, “I appreciate it, but… I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Jungkook blinks, caught off guard for the first time since this conversation started. “Wait. Are you rejecting me?”

You shift uncomfortably, suddenly feeling too warm. “I just… don’t think we’re the kind of people who text each other.”

He looks at you for a long moment before shaking his head, a slow grin spreading across his face. “You’re something else, you know that?”

You clutch your cart a little tighter. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He exhales, shaking his head like he can’t quite believe what’s happening. Then, with a playful salute, he backs away. “Alright. No number—for now.” He winks. “But I have a feeling this isn’t the last time we’ll run into each other.”

And with that, he disappears down the aisle, leaving you standing there, heart pounding, wondering how on earth your quiet Saturday turned into that.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Monday morning, you find yourself back at your desk, the quiet hum of the office filling the space around you. The excitement of the race lingers, its echoes still vibrating in the air. Clients are still singing your praises in your email inbox, and your boss is smiling more than usual, clearly impressed by the successful merger. For the first time in a while, you feel like you’ve done something right. The buzz of the event, of the energy you felt while navigating the chaos, is a distant memory, but it lingers in a more subtle way, quietly at the back of your mind.

You sip your coffee, staring at the screen in front of you, but your thoughts drift every now and then. The loud office, the steady rhythm of typing, all fades out a little when you remember your Saturday. Jungkook’s smile, his presence... it’s all still there in fragments, playing in your mind. You shake your head, trying to push it down. No need to revisit it. Not now.

“Good morning, sunshine!” Jisoo’s voice breaks through your thoughts, bright and full of energy as always. You look up to see her standing in front of your desk, her hand on her hip and a wide grin on her face. Jisoo, your coworker, your work best friend and polar opposite, always seems to bring light with her wherever she goes. Her laughter is loud, her confidence undeniable. If you had a tenth of her charm, you’d feel unstoppable. But you don’t. And that’s fine. You just admire it from afar, wishing you could be more like her.

She tilts her head, eyeing you for a second. “How was the race Friday night?” she asks, sliding into the chair across from you without waiting for a response. “Clients were probably all over you. Everyone is still talking about it.”

You shrug casually, hiding the way your heart rate picks up at the mention of the event. “It was fine,” you say, keeping your tone neutral. “Same as any other corporate event. Just a lot of small talk.”

Jisoo’s eyebrows shoot up. “Small talk? You saw all those famous drivers. Some of the most handsome guys out there! Bet you had a blast.”

You shake your head with a soft laugh, pushing the thought of Jungkook back where it belongs. “Yeah, it’s not really my scene. The clients were happy, though, so that’s what counts.”

Jisoo leans forward, narrowing her eyes with that playful glint you’ve seen a thousand times before. “Hmm… that totally doesn’t sound convincing. There’s gotta be something interesting that happened. Something crazy? Don’t leave me hanging.”

You feel your cheeks warm just at the thought, but you quickly wave it off, your hands busy shuffling papers on your desk. “Nothing really. Just a lot of racing and cheering.”

Jisoo raises an eyebrow, obviously unconvinced. She glances around, ensuring no one else is within earshot before lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Wait, hold up. Wasn’t that sexy driver Jeon Jungkook there?” She grins widely, like she’s figured out some huge secret.

Your heart stutters for a second, and you try to play it cool. You casually shrug, pretending like you don’t care. “I don’t know. I don’t really keep track of the drivers.” Your voice is light, but inside you’re anything but calm. The heat creeping up your neck betrays you.

Jisoo’s grin only widens, clearly enjoying the moment. “Uh-huh. Sure. I see the way you’re reacting right now. You have a celebrity crush on him, don’t ya?”

You feel the flush in your cheeks deepen, and you quickly take a sip of your coffee, hoping it’ll hide your embarrassment. “I mean... he was there. Yeah.” You try to make it sound like it doesn’t matter, like you didn’t notice the way his presence shifted the energy in the room, but your tone is too soft, too uncertain. Jisoo is practically bouncing in her seat with amusement.

“Uh-huh. And I bet you’re also going to tell me you didn’t catch a glimpse of him at all?” she teases, leaning forward now, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “The guy with the tattoos and the eyebrow piercing? The one who looks like he was born to be the center of attention?”

You swallow, suddenly feeling trapped in your own embarrassment. “Okay, fine,” you admit, trying to shrug it off. “He looked... fine.” Your voice is barely a whisper at the end, and Jisoo bursts out laughing.

“I knew it! You look like you’re ready to faint.” She pauses, grinning like she’s uncovered the biggest secret of the year. “You are totally flustered, and it is adorable.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands for a second, but Jisoo only laughs harder. “Oh, come on! You have to admit—he’s got the whole bad-boy charm down, huh? I mean, who wouldn’t be a little flustered?”

You shake your head, trying to hide your growing smile. “I wasn’t flustered. I just... hate this conversation topic.” Your voice sounds weak even to your own ears, but Jisoo seems to take that as all the confirmation she needs.

“You totally are.” She shakes her head, still grinning. “It’s okay, though. I get it. I mean, we don’t usually meet guys like him in our usual work world.”

You wince slightly, but Jisoo just gives you a wink, clearly teasing but with no malice behind it.

Just as you try to collect your thoughts, to brush off the teasing from Jisoo, your work phone rings, cutting through the tension like a lifeline. You nearly jump out of your seat, grateful for the distraction. Jisoo, ever the playful force of nature, grins even wider, leaning over your desk to grab the phone with a mischievous look in her eyes.

“Hello, this is (Y/N)’s phone,” she says in a mock-serious tone, her fingers tapping at the bobblehead on your desk in time with the words, clearly enjoying herself. “How may we help you today?”

You raise an eyebrow, exasperated but relieved that the attention is off of you for a moment. Jisoo’s antics, as usual, are borderline absurd, but they’re what you need to keep your mind from spiraling. She waves the phone around a little, tossing the bobblehead in the air and catching it again, all while you try to ignore her antics and focus on the tasks at hand.

Then, you hear the voice on the other end. A man’s voice, smooth but businesslike, and it immediately pulls you out of your thoughts.

“Is this (Y/N) (L/N)?” the voice asks, formal and crisp.

You freeze, blinking at Jisoo as she gives you a confused look. You didn’t expect a work call at this hour. You rip the phone out of her hand. “Uh, yes, this is (Y/N),” you say hesitantly, wondering who it could be. You didn’t recognize the voice, and the formal tone sets off a strange feeling in your stomach.

“Great,” the man continues, not missing a beat. “I’m calling on behalf of Jeon Jungkook. You may have met him in the VIP box at the racing event on Friday.”

For a brief second, the world seems to tilt. You hear the words “Jeon Jungkook” and your mind goes blank. The name registers, but everything around you suddenly feels a little… fuzzy. Jungkook? Why would he be calling you? Better yet, how the fuck did this dude get your work number?

Before you even realize what you’re doing, you slam the phone down, your heart racing in your chest. The noise of it hitting the receiver echoes in your ears like a deafening gong.

Jisoo’s eyes go wide, her playful demeanor completely wiped off her face. “What was that??” she asks, leaning back in her chair with raised eyebrows, clearly confused and a little amused.

You stare at the phone for a moment, unsure of what just happened. The shock is settling in, but you’re still stuck on the absurdity of the call. Was this some kind of joke? You slowly pick the phone back up, your voice soft and shaky. “Sorry, I’m here,” you say, clearly flustered. “What… what was that about?”

The man’s voice comes back, just as calm and formal as before. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m Jungkook’s manager. He wanted to get to know you better, and I’m calling to see if you’d be open to that. Maybe you could meet with him sometime?”

You freeze again. You can barely process the words. This doesn’t make sense. Why on earth would Jungkook, the famous race car driver, want to meet you? You’re literally just a girl, the quiet one who barely makes waves. The idea of it is almost laughable.

You’re aware that Jisoo has been silently watching you the entire time, her eyes locked on the phone with a curious, mischievous glint. Her hand hovers near the receiver, waiting for you to react. You feel her gaze on you, but your brain is too overwhelmed to process much else.

“Uh, what?” You barely whisper it, as though saying it aloud would make it real. Your voice is barely a sound, and yet the words hang in the air like a strange invitation that you never asked for.

The man on the phone continues, his voice still calm, but you can hear the faintest note of uncertainty. “Sorry, I know this might be weird. It could be a casual hangout, nothing too formal. He just wanted to know if that’s something you might be interested in.”

Your mind is whirling. This is not happening. This is too much. You’re just trying to make a living, trying to do your job. You’re not someone who would—could—be on Jungkook’s radar. Why would he be interested in you?

Before you can make any decision, before you can even properly process the insanity of the situation, Jisoo, ever the opportunist, rips the phone from your hand. “Hello?” she says cheerfully, clearly not noticing your state of shock. “I’d love to meet with him. When would he be free?”

She’s already grinning like a Cheshire cat, and without missing a beat, she adds, “Oh, and you can just text the details to me. Thanks.”

She gives the man your cell number.

You stare at her in disbelief as she hangs up, completely unaware of your growing panic. Jisoo looks up from the phone with a broad grin. “There! It’s all taken care of. I’m sure Jungkook will be thrilled to meet you.”

You blink, trying to process what just happened. “Jisoo, no! I don’t—” You feel a knot form in your stomach. “Why did you do that? I don’t even know what’s going on! This is insane!”

She shrugs, still smiling. “You’re welcome! Don’t worry, you’ll thank me later when you’re hanging out with Jeon Jungkook. Why the fuck are you not ecstatic right now?”

You can’t find the words to explain how out of your depth you feel right now. You wanted no part in this, no entanglements with a race car driver, especially one as out of reach as Jungkook.

You sit there, in stunned silence, trying to get a grip on what just happened. Jungkook’s manager—his manager—called you.

Jisoo’s grin only widens as she watches your face slowly turn a deeper shade of red. She leans back in her chair, clearly enjoying the chaos she’s just set in motion. “I just gave you a golden opportunity, and I’m pretty sure Jungkook is going to be head over heels for you in no time.”

You bury your face in your hands for a moment, overwhelmed by the rush of it all. “Jisoo, I don’t—this is insane! Why would he be interested in me? I don’t even know how to talk to people at these events. I literally choked on cheese in front of him.”

Jisoo laughs loudly, drawing the attention of a couple of nearby coworkers. “Oh please,” she says with a dramatic eye roll, clearly not buying it. “Clearly, you’ve got this whole I’m just a little scared shy girl thing going on, and you’re the only person who isn’t swooning over him. That’s what makes you so intriguing. You’re sooo chill about everything.”

She smirks, her fingers tapping on the desk. “And let’s be honest, you’re not exactly hard to look at either.”

You nearly choke on your own air at her comment. “Stop it, seriously,” you mutter, trying to hide the heat rising in your cheeks. You’re too embarrassed to even look at her now, feeling like the walls are closing in.

Jisoo watches you with a knowing smile. “I mean, he’s a race car driver, and he’s interested in you,” she says, practically swooning with dramatic flair. “This is like every rom-com plot you could ever dream of! You’re totally going to fall for him, I can already tell.”

You groan, sinking lower into your chair. “This is not a rom-com, Jisoo. It’s a nightmare.”

She leans forward, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Yeah, well, in the rom-com, the shy girl always ends up with the cool, charming guy, doesn’t she? But instead of running away, you should go for it. Trust me, I’m good at reading these things.”

You look at her, horrified. “I don’t want anything to do with this. I just—he’s not my type. I’m not his type.”

Jisoo scoffs dramatically. “You don’t even know your type! Maybe Jungkook is your type. Have you ever even given it a chance?”

Before you can answer, your cell phone buzzes, pulling you out of the whirlwind conversation. You glance at the phone screen, feeling your heart jump into your throat as you see an unrecognized number pop up.

Your finger hesitates over the screen before you reluctantly swipe to open the message. Your eyes widen as you read the text:

"Hey, it’s Jungkook. Was kinda harder to find you than I thought it would be. Hope you’re okay with my manager calling you, I know that might’ve been weird."

You blink a few times, staring at the message as if it might disappear, but the words remain, taunting you from the screen. Your fingers freeze over your phone, and you can feel your heartbeat accelerate. What in the world is happening?

Jisoo, clearly seeing your reaction, leans in eagerly, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “Oh my god, is that him? Is that his text? You have to show me!”

You’re too stunned to respond right away, your face burning as you hold the phone in front of her. She snatches it from your hands without hesitation, her eyes dancing with glee as she reads the message aloud in a dramatic whisper.

She looks up from the screen, grinning from ear to ear. “Oh. My. God.” She says, her voice almost a shriek. “This is so much better than I ever imagined. He’s flirting with you! He literally said he had to find you. Do you know what that means?!”

You shake your head slowly, in total disbelief. “This is too much.”

Jisoo shakes the phone in your face. “No, this is perfect,” she says, barely able to contain her excitement. “You’ve got a race car driver hitting on you! What is wrong with you?”

You close your eyes and press your palms to your forehead. “I don’t know, I’m just... so confused.”

Jisoo stands up, grabbing her own phone from her desk. “You’re going to reply to him, okay? And you’re going to do it now.” She waves her phone around in the air like she’s orchestrating some kind of performance. “This is your chance. You can’t just let it slip away like some boring corporate drone. You need to text him back.”

“Jisoo, I can’t,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t even know what to say to him. What does he want with me?”

Jisoo looks at you, her eyes wide with exaggerated seriousness. “You’re going to text him, and you’re going to make it clear that you’re not some shy girl who can’t handle a little attention.” She smiles mischievously. “Just text him back. And if you can’t do that, I’ll literally rip the phone from your hand and do it for you.”

You open your mouth to protest, but before you can speak, Jisoo grabs the phone out of your hand and types away at the screen with lightning speed.

“Done,” she says, grinning like a cat who’s caught the canary.

“What did you—” You stop yourself as she quickly hands you the phone. The message has been sent.

You look at her in pure shock. “Jisoo, you didn’t…”

“Oh yes, I did,” she says, practically skipping around your desk. “You’re welcome. Trust me, you’ll thank me later.”

You stare at the message she sent: “Hey! Thanks for reaching out. It wasn’t weird, don’t worry.”

Before you can say anything else, Jisoo gives you a wink and turns to walk back to her desk, completely unfazed by the whirlwind she’s created.

You look down at the phone in your hand, its screen glowing with the weight of a decision you’re not ready to make. The thought of being pulled into a world like Jungkook’s—one filled with chaos, adrenaline, and a dangerous kind of freedom—feels foreign to you, like a path you’re meant to observe from a distance, never walk. You’ve always preferred the quiet, steady hum of the sidelines, watching the world swirl around you without ever getting caught in its current.

Your life, in all its routine and predictability, feels safe, contained. You’ve spent years navigating the corporate world, where the language is numbers, the rules are clear, and nothing is left to chance.

Your ex boyfriend was just like you. Someone who understood the rhythms of work, someone who shared your focus on the future, the steady climb up the ladder. People like Jungkook, with their wild tattoos, sharp piercings, and the constant rush of danger, are the antithesis of everything you’ve ever wanted. He’s everything you’ve carefully kept at arm’s length.

But now, here you are. Unexpectedly entangled in a world you never asked to be part of, a world that feels as reckless as it is foreign.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

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[astrocafecoffee]

ASTRO OBSERVATION (PART 5)

•~ 🍁 For entertainment purposes only, enjoy my lovelies 🍁 ~•

🍁MASTERLIST

~~~~~~~~~~~~~🍁🍁~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🏞️ I have seen Pisces and cancer placements are very sensitive to strong artificial scents, like they feel so dizzy. Some virgos too.

🏞️ Pisces placement peoples often put others needs before their own and may struggle with setting boundaries , which leads to people pleasing tendencies. Libra, cancer and Taurus placements also comes under this.

🏞️ In my 2023-2024 solar return 7th house ruler in 11th house. I met most of my friends in social media this year. My sun is also in 11th house.

🏞️ part of fortune is in my 12th house in my 2023-24 solar return. I learnt many things about esoteric things. And I started this blog also.

🏞️ Gemini moons might struggle with emotional focus , as their attention can shift quickly from one thing to another.

🏞️ check born asteroid in your solar return , it can tell you in which area you will embark on a new journey.

🏞️ I have seen people with sun in 9th house often have migraine issue.

🏞️ Sagittarius suns/ sun in 9th house peoples may appear open and forthcoming but they are surprisingly secretive and protective of their personal lives.

🏞️ scorpio placement peoples often attract peoples from their past lives or those with whom they share strong karmic bonds.

🏞️ Juno in Aquarius people often struggle with emotional detachment and aloofness in relationships which can be confusing or hurtful to partners.

🏞️ Juno in Aries people approaches relationship challenges with a " let's take action" attitude seeking practical solutions.

🏞️ I have seen that some people may worry that Neptune with Aquarius individuals ( degree/ sign) are too disconnected from reality or lack practicality. But also people may appreciate this individuals empathy and willingness to help others , even if they don't always agree with their methods .

🏞️ cancer rising/ cancer in 5th house / moon in 5th house in solar return chart can be a significant indicator of having a baby/ being pregnant that year.

🏞️ 1st house lord in leo / In 11th house / in 10th house can be a good Indicator of fame in your natal chart.

🏞️ Uranus in 17°/29 ° can also be a indicator of long term fame.

🏞️11th house ruler in 4th house in natal chart individuals often possess some kind of healing qualities. People comes to them for healing or people often find their home in this individuals.

🏞️ 11th house ruler in 8th house individuals in natal often have very powerful friends or colleagues. I mean their friends may posses some kind of authority and power in the society.

🏞️ 5th house ruler in the houses of your child persona chart can tell how you show love to your baby or how you will you support your child -

1st house - you will love your children through physical touch , affection and personal attention.

2nd house- you will show love through practical support, stability and providing for their needs.

3rd house - through verbally communicating with them , teaching them moral values , mental stimulation and playing with them.

4th house - you will love your children from the core of your heart. Nurturing them , and emotional support is the biggest theme here.

5th house- playing with them , enjoying any kind of playful activities with them, arranging parties and helping them with their creative activities.

6th house- you will help your children to develop healthy habits, concerning about them. Helping them to be a better person in their life, teaching them social and moral values.

7th house- through socialising, teaching them networking and how to maintain a healthy relationships.

8th house- you show love through intensity , passion , and possibly even a bit of drama ( maybe sometime giving them tough love ).

9th house- teaching them various topics, expanding their knowledge , you will also make them Focus on their education more.

10th house - like 9th house you will also help them to achieve their goals and ambitions. Always motivating them .

11th house - you will show your love through unconventionality, encouraging their individuality and giving them independence.

12th house - you will encourage them to embrace their artistic side. Also teaching them spiritual matters.

🏞️ Taurus placements are very loyal and commited but they may take time to open up infront of their partners. So their partners have to be patient with them.

🏞️ people often misunderstood mercury with Capricorn/ Aquarius/ scorpio individuals. People think they are so rude, atleast in first glance. But when people engage with them more , they realise this individuals are actually sweet pookies.

🏞️ Juno conjunct sun in natal chart individuals may be drawn to partners who are confident, powerful and authoritative .

🏞️ Juno conjunct moon individuals may have a strong emotional memory,and past relationship experiences often shape their current relationships.

🏞️ Venus in Capricorn/10°/22° individuals are very selective whomever they date, they won't lower their standards.( You go girl).

🏞️ Here are some rich spouse indicators.

🏞️ Beautiful/ Handsome spouse indicators-

1. Jupiter or Neptune conjunct or trine Venus.

2. Harmonious aspect between Venus and 7th house ruler in natal chart.

3. Pisces rising/ Libra rising in juno pc / groom pc / Jupiter pc.

4. Venus/ Jupiter/ Neptune in 7th house of natal / juno pc / groom pc / Jupiter pc.

5. Harmonious aspect between ascendant and venus in groom pc / juno pc/ Jupiter pc.

🏞️ if you are female then check Jupiter sign in your natal chart , as this sign can present in your spouse's chart ( personal planets). If you are male then check Venus sign.

🏞️ if you have Uranus in 1st house of your solar return chart, then you will change your aesthetics this year. The degree will tell you how you will look. For example- if Uranus is in 12°/24° in 1st house in your solar return chart then you will look more pretty, dreamy and angelic this year. Similiar kind of thing with POF in 1st house too.

🏞️ MC in Capricorn/ scorpio in solar return chart - you will work hard this year to achieve your goals.

🏞️ having asc/ dsc/ ic / mc in Sagittarius degrees or northnode in 9th house or in Sagittarius in Boda Persona chart may indicate marrying someone foreigner or having destination wedding or marrying in your future spouse's country.

🏞️ midheaven in leo in northnode persona chart is a biggest fame Indicator to me.

🏞️ ascendant in leo / in leo degrees in northnode persona chart is also a good fame indicator.

🏞️ Boda in 3rd house/ in Gemini in your Boda Persona chart/ vertex persona chart/ northnode persona chart can indicate people talk about your marriage alot.

🏞️ 7th house stellium/ fama in 7th house / fama conjunct Jupiter/ groom or briede conjunct POF in FAMA persona chart can indicate marrying someone famous.

🏞️ ASC / MC in leo or in leo degrees can indicate you are meant to be famous. ( 5° can indicate short term fame but 17° and 29° indicate long-term fame).

🏞️ Indicator of someone who is prone to being obsessed over or having a strong fan base or In general people being obsessed over you placements -

1. Venus/ mars / Jupiter in leo or Libra.

2. Sun in leo.

3. Venus conjunct or trine Neptune.

4. Venus in 1st / 5th house.

5. Mars in 1st/ 5th house.

6. Neptune in 1st house / Pisces rising.

Hope you enjoyed ✨

- PIKO ❤️

[astrologydray]

!!!Pallas in the signs!!!

Pallas reveals how you observe, interpret, and respond to complexity. She governs mental brilliance, intuitive defense, healing strategies, and the wisdom of patterns—blending intellect with instinct in unique, creative ways.

♈ Pallas in Aries

You solve problems through bold action and immediate insight. Your wisdom is direct, courageous, and often centered on initiating change or defending yourself and others.

♉ Pallas in Taurus

Your intelligence is tactile and patient—you see patterns in nature, beauty, and stability. Solutions come through grounding, embodiment, and financial or artistic strategy.

♊ Pallas in Gemini

You’re a verbal strategist—quick-witted, sharp-tongued, and brilliant with language. You see mental patterns instantly and communicate with genius-level adaptability.

♋ Pallas in Cancer

Your insight comes from emotional intelligence and memory. You defend through care and protect through intuition, often sensing a problem’s root before it’s spoken.

♌ Pallas in Leo

You’re creatively strategic—your wisdom shines through performance, boldness, or storytelling. You solve problems by inspiring others and leading with heart.

♍ Pallas in Virgo

You’re a master of detail and practical analysis. Your strategic mind works best when fixing systems, healing others, or organizing chaos into clarity.

♎ Pallas in Libra

You use diplomacy and aesthetics as tools of wisdom. You see relational patterns instantly and excel at solving conflicts with grace, fairness, and finesse.

♏ Pallas in Scorpio

You perceive what’s hidden—your intuition cuts through the surface like a blade. You’re a psychic strategist, uncovering emotional truths and outwitting through depth and secrecy.

♐ Pallas in Sagittarius

You think in symbols, stories, and big-picture visions. Your strategy is philosophical—you solve problems through belief, teaching, or global perspective.

♑ Pallas in Capricorn

You’re a structural strategist—your mind works like an architect of goals and legacies. You solve problems methodically and protect through discipline, control, and long-term planning.

♒ Pallas in Aquarius

You are a pattern-seer of systems, ideas, and networks. Your mind works like a lightning bolt—solving complex problems through innovation, rebellion, or group consciousness.

♓ Pallas in Pisces

You possess poetic, spiritual intelligence—you solve problems through dream logic, empathy, or divine inspiration. Your pattern recognition is subtle, symbolic, and often visionary.

[mariacallous]

When the cease-fire in Gaza went into effect earlier this week, the joy across the conflict line was palpable from 6,000 miles away. Although it is unlikely that complicated three-phase deal will ever be fully implemented, it will save lives, bring hostages home, and provide Palestinians in Gaza with much-needed humanitarian aid. The initial hostage and prisoner release also provides a moment to reflect on the broader consequences of the war. Among the most striking is how the conflict has not just altered the trajectories of Israeli and Palestinian societies but in important ways forced them into reverse.

No doubt, Hamas has notched a number of notable achievements since it launched the onslaught it called Operation Al-Aqsa Flood on Oct. 7, 2023. The group drew the IDF into a ferocious fight in the Gaza Strip that has compromised the international legitimacy of Israel’s military and the state it defends. And not since the announcement of the Clinton Parameters and the effort to rescue the Oslo process at the Egyptian resort town of Taba in early 2001 has the Palestinian question been front and center in Middle Eastern and international politics.

At the same time, when Hamas sent its fighters over and through the fence that separates Israel from the Gaza Strip, they set the Palestinian search for justice back at least a generation, if not more. There was a time, not long ago, when it was possible for people to imagine a Palestinian state in the West Bank and the Gaza Strip. In the years since the peace process irretrievably faltered, some observers had come to believe that the present “one-state reality,” encompassing the Palestinian areas plus Israel, would likely lead to a “one-state solution” in which Palestinians and Israelis live together. Regardless of the real-world prospects of either outcome, Hamas’s genocidal fever dream of liberating Palestine—from Metula to Eilat and from the Jordan River to the Mediterranean Sea—which the group sought to make reality 15 months ago, has rendered both the one-state and two-state solutions impossible.

Add to Hamas’s bloodlust the international outcry over what Israelis regard to be righteous self-defense, and fewer and fewer of them are now willing to believe that Palestinian nationalism and Zionism can be reconciled. Palestinians may have a right to a state, but given the asymmetries of power that exist, Israelis have the capacity to prevent them from exercising it. After Oct. 7, that seems likelier than ever.

Even while Palestinians in the West Bank and Gaza are filled with joy over the cease-fire, they remain adrift, confronted with two unenviable political choices: the Palestinian Authority (PA)—a corrupt, repressive, and illegitimate vessel of another era that is irrelevant to the current predicaments of the people whom it is supposed to represent—or Hamas. Even with their limited mandate, the PA’s leaders seem incapable of accomplishing pretty much anything other than remaining in power. Hamas is an undesirable alternative. Its popularity waxes during conflict with Israel and wanes when the reality of life under the boot of the group’s cadres becomes clear to the Palestinians who must endure it. It is hard not to conclude from the last two decades that Hamas’s sacralized claims to resistance has brought Palestinians nothing but more pain and more grief. Yes, there is renewed international sympathy for the Palestinian cause, but the world has long recognized the importance of justice for Palestinians with little tangibly to show for it.

There may actually be other, better options for Palestinians. In distinct contrast to the PA and Hamas, there is a vibrant grassroots movement of Palestinians that is seeking new means of representation and leveraging the past 15 months of bloodshed to deepen the connections between the Palestinian struggle and international networks of progressives, NGOs, humanitarians, and academics. It is an interesting phenomenon, and perhaps an alternative to the PA and Hamas will emerge from this activism. But a significant amount of energy of these groups seems devoted more to Israel’s delegitimization than to any actual effort to forge a new Palestinian political reality. It is also an elite game. Average Palestinians have no such privilege or choice. They are forced between two factions that claim to be the expressions of the Palestinian nationalism but have done little to advance their cause, at times even profiting from their people’s suffering.

Given the destruction of Gaza and the existential nature of the conflict between Israelis and Palestinians that Hamas’s onslaught and the Israeli response to it highlighted, the lasting and most tangible achievement of that attack may very well be the permanent statelessness of the Palestinian people.

For Israelis, the days of “bourgeois Israel” are over. The Israel of the Nike Store, fancy bicycle studios, Maseratis prowling the Ayalon Freeway, and glass towers built on the power of Silicon Wadi IPOs will, of course, remain, but there has been a vibe shift among Jewish citizens of Israel. The attacks on southern kibbutzim and towns 15 months ago vaulted Israel back to another time—one of vulnerability and uncertainty. The incomprehensible hostility of the world around Israelis and beyond, especially among governments and publics in the West, added to the collective shock.

Israelis believed that they had overcome their isolation of the past. Yet so strong and striking was the negative sentiment of the global elite toward a wounded Israel that it was as if U.N. Resolution 3379, which determined Zionism to be a form of racism, had never been repealed. In the coming years, Israel will confront even more hostility from influential—but not necessarily powerful—actors within the U.N. system and the NGO world who have demonstrated themselves to be part of a broad anti-Zionist front. Even though Israel enjoys diplomatic relations with most of the world, the war in Gaza has reopened the question of its global acceptance and legitimacy.

Uncomfortable as it may be, there are more discernible consequences of the war than the hostility of U.N. bureaucrats, Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch, and governments from Ireland to Spain. It seems likely that Israel is too well integrated into the global economy—especially its high-tech and health sectors—for the call to boycott, divest, and sanction to succeed. But Israelis, whose security has been ensured and economic development boosted with the help of U.S. subventions, will have to grapple with higher defense budgets and the hostility of a not insignificant segment of the Democratic Party whose lawmakers will be asked to continue security assistance for Israel. That will not matter when Republicans control the executive branch and Congress, but Democrats will not be in the wilderness forever, and the IDF operations in Gaza that over the last 15 months killed more than 47,000 Palestinians (according to Palestinian health authorities in Gaza) have made an impression on Capitol Hill. The bipartisan consensus around support for Israeli security was already weakening when Hamas attacked; Israel’s ferocious reaction to Oct. 7 may very well have broken it.

What does this say about the future for Israelis and Palestinians? Almost nothing. There were more than a few sages who declared at the outset of the war “from crisis comes opportunity.” That sounds nice, but those are just words. The most likely outcome of the war was always going to be something closer to the status quo that existed on Oct. 6, 2023, than some promising change that improved the prospects for peace. As the release of Gonen, Damari, and Steinbrecher made abundantly clear, Hamas remains very much in power in Gaza, which portends a tighter Israeli blockade on the territory and periodic spasms of great violence. All the while, Palestinians and Israelis will remain further away from their national goals than they have been in decades.

[caturnmoon]

Astrology Observations #4️⃣

🍄Virgo Venus 🫱🏼‍🫲🏾 love language being acts of service.

🍄The Mercury conjunct your midheaven aspect gives me huge “networking for a living” vibes. You could thrive in sales, or a job that requires a lot of communication in some way; either orally or written. Like a columnist or someone in marketing!

🍄Whereas squares add tension to an aspect and planet, oppositions work against each other like same sided magnets; no matter how hard you try, planets won’t mesh unless there’s a balance between the two. It’s tension, but opposing tension. Like a blockage to the energies of that planet that needs working through.

🍄Venus square Pluto aspects could attract obsessive people and have issues with stalkers. Also, power struggles in relationships if you’re not careful!

🍄Aquarius mars and being the avoidant types when it comes to conflict. The nature of the water bearer is to work with the collective at its most evolved, so they’ll usually rise above petty conflict to get to a logical solution. Similar to Libra but not as passively. Or, they are known to rebel to make a shocking statement. They are the rebels of the zodiac after all thanks to Uranus! They get fired up for a cause that’s for sure.

🍄Having your sun conjunct your moon is a pretty awesome aspect in my opinion! If everything else supports this, there could be a nice balance between your ego and emotional self/inner world. They both act as a checks and balances for each other, which is oh so healthy. Could also signify a beautiful relationship between both parents! It’s harmonious and there wasn’t much fighting or toxicity.

🍄As someone who is on the autistic spectrum I love looking to my whole sign Aquarius Saturn in the 3rd house. It explains a lot.

🍄The 8th house not only resembles intimate relationships, shared assets, debts and of course death, but also inheritance too!

🍄Having a highly aspected Chiron indicates the potential for you to become a healer in this lifetime! Chiron is the wounded healer, and so its house sign and aspects can hint towards what needs healing within yourself in order to help others!

🍄A lot of physical therapist and medical professionals have a lot of Virgo in their charts, as well as Scorpio too I’ve noticed. Especially MC.

Until next time! 👽🖖🏼

[snezka-049]

Snezka and SCP-049 beginning (lore)

1. Dr. Snezhana Lewandowski lore (Snezka)

(Events before the containment breach).

In the corridors of the SCP Foundation, where secrets and anomalies are hidden from the public eye, Dr. Snezhana Lewandowski worked. Her life was full of mystery, and this is what drew her to the world of anomalies.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Name: Snezhana Lewandowski

Age: ██

Date of Birth: 27/08/ ████

Clearance Level: Third

Personnel Category: B

Specialty: IT Specialist. Psychologist.

Place of work: Zone 19

Foundation experience: 5 years

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Education

First: IT-Specialist.

Snezhana enrolled in the Faculty of Information Technology at a state university. During her studies, she specialized in cybersecurity and data analytics.

After graduating with a Bachelor's degree, then a Master's degree, she continued her education in graduate school, where she focused on research in the areas of:

1. Information Security.

2. Big data analytics.

She defended her doctoral dissertation on "Anomaly detection methods for system and big data", which attracted the attention of the SCP Foundation.

Second: Psychologist.

After achieving the success she needed in technical education, she decided to fulfill her life's main dream of working in the field of psychology. Due to some unpleasant events in her childhood, she did not have the opportunity to study in this field, so she had to temporarily change her orientation in life.

From an early age, Snezhana has shown an interest in psychology and human behavior. The motivation for this comes from a tough youth and personal traumatic experiences. Her goal was to help those who couldn't make it on their own, as she once couldn't. After enough time had passed, she managed to apply to the academy to study psychology. Upon graduating from the academy, Snezhana specialized in the areas of:

1. Clinical psychology.

2. Experimental psychology.

3. Counseling psychology.

After she got a job in a psychoneurological dispensary, gaining valuable experience and practice, a broader understanding of the inner world of people.

Invitation to the Foundation

Finding contacts and personal information about Snezhana was not difficult for the Foundation. Having noticed her abilities, the Foundation ordered to send a recruiter - ████ ██████ - into her social circle to get more information about the candidate. As a result, the recruiter ████ and Snezhana became close friends.

After some time of observation and communication of the recruiter with her, having received all the necessary information, the Board of the Foundation came to the decision to give her the invitation to work.

Realizing the risks and danger, Snezhana accepted the invitation, having resigned from her previous job after working for about 2 years.

After testing, interviewing and training, she became an employee of the Foundation with a level 2 security clearance.

Career at the Foundation

Snezhana started her career as a junior specialist in cybersecurity, a little later gaining a junior position in psychology.

Her specialization is a unique combination of programming and psychology, allowing her to look at anomalies from two perspectives: both as complex systems that require analysis, and as entities with their own consciousness and motivation.

Incident

While analyzing data, Dr. Lewandowski came across strange signals on the network. These were not just hacking attempts - they were coming from an entity known as SCP-███ She and others in the programming field developed a comprehensive defense strategy. In the process, they faced many challenges: the SCP-███ system was constantly adapting, and they had to find new solutions. Under conditions of stress and strain, Dr. Lewandowski managed to implement their real-time protection algorithm.

After that, for some reason, she was assigned more work in the field of psychology. Also, her success in the incident gave her a promotion to level 3 clearance.

In psychology

Dr. Lewandowski researches and analyzes object psychology. She develops methods of interacting with abnormal entities and helps in understanding their behavior.

Real security is achieved not only through physical barriers, but also through the emotional stability of employees. She took time to help her colleagues through seminars and psychology trainings for the staff of the Facility, trying to create an atmosphere of trust and mutual support among the employees.

For about 2 years, Dr. Lewandowski worked only with Safe Class facilities, and after being promoted to Senior Specialist in Psychology, she was ordered to work with Euclid Class facilities.

This promotion led her to meet one subject that changed her life, and in the future, his too... SCP-049 - Plague Doctor.

2. Lewandowski and SCP-049

(Events on the eve of the containment breach).

Experiment

The first days of Dr. Lewandowski and the SCP-049 subject were formal, protocol-driven. Lewandowski conducted standard interview sessions in an attempt to understand the motives and nature of his subject. The subject was cool and detached.

She knew SCP-049 was dangerous, but she saw him not only as an anomaly, but as a complex, multifaceted individual. His words were full of sadness and loneliness, imbued with longing and melancholy. She understood his logic, his pain, his desire to “help,” even if the methods were questionable, but perhaps all is not what it seems at first glance.

And yet she too had thought similar things to what SCP-049 had said, that the world was sick, humanity needed to be saved. Ever since she was a child, she had had thoughts like his in her mind.

She had a theory that there were no bad people in the world, but wounded people who had not been healed. She believed that a person becomes wounded, after being treated unfairly or cruelly, by similarly wounded people. If a person does not work on their wound, it will not heal, because there are many wounded people in the world that will scratch that wound, making it bigger. And this pain and resentment, like a virus or rot, infects his soul completely, making the person the same as the one who once inflicted the wound. Later that person carries this pain and resentment further, taking it out on others, making more infected. It is an endless cycle that cannot be eradicated completely, but can be minimized. Some can handle it, and some need help. You have to want help, you have to understand the situation and try to solve it too, because no one can help you better than you can help yourself, and that's what Snezka had to go through.

She thought these thoughts were strange, but after so many years, there was a creature that literally reflected her thoughts, with whom you can share this theory, and perhaps get understanding.

She saw herself in him, only a better version of herself, but with the same mental problems.

— How can that be!? He's just an abnormal object, why can't I stop thinking about him!? I can't stop thinking about him, his words. Maybe it's my soft nature, too compassionate, empathic, or maybe it's his anomalous action?

Dr. Lewandowski felt a kindred spirit in him and wanted to have more sessions with him, and most importantly, she wanted to get away from formal conversation, and share her thoughts with him about their common problem.

She decided to send a request to the management above about the idea of having experimental conversations with SCP-049, so that he would see Dr. Lewandowski as genuinely understanding, get comfortable with her, and tell her more about his treatment, himself, and the fever. Approval was granted, but it was a long wait. Finally she could be sincere with him.

Trust

New conversations with SCP-049, but not as formal as before, it took several such conversations before SCP-049 settled down with Dr. Lewandowski.

He told her more about the fever, about the treatment, they began to have deep dialogues about life and death, about philosophy, about society, SCP-049 even began to tell stories from his own life. Lewandowski also told him about her life, but she liked to listen to him more.

She found comfort in his monologues about the world, about death, about eternity, his stories about medicine. Her mind resisted, but her heart could no longer deny it: she felt something more than professional interest in him. It was a dangerous game, bordering on insanity. She knew it, but she couldn't stop. Lewandowski realized that her feelings were illogical, unacceptable, but they were there. Her greatest fear was that the Foundation would suspect something and restrict her access to him, which unfortunately happened...

Another conversation between SCP-049 and Lewandowski, the subject had already started addressing her by her favorite version of her name, Snezka, while she addressed him as Doctor. Suddenly the object fell silent.

— Doctor? Is everything all right?

— ...Yes. Snezka, let me demonstrate something to you, you should know....

The subject held out his hand, as far as it was possible being handcuffed for safety's sake, and nodded, offering to touch her. Sensing that this venture might not end well, Lewandowski extended her palm, and SCP-049 touched it.

— Wait, what...? Oh... My thoughts about your abilities were valid. - Was the last thing Snezka said before the cell door opened and she was summoned to leave.

Reprimand

— Dr. Lewandowski, your experimental conversations with the subject have come to an end. We have all the information we need, you will no longer have to work with SCP-049. Let's be honest, it seems you've begun to abuse your access to the facility, and the Foundation board has some questions about that.

— ...It was part of an experiment, you see.... It gave you a lot of new information, before such experiments such informative results were not observed. - said Lewandowski in her defense.

— Lucky for you that it didn't end in your death! Objects like 049 are dangerous, you can't trust them or reach out to them. Or have you forgotten what he did to Dr. Hamm? And everything was fine at first, too. This object is unpredictable! You're lucky you're a valued member of our staff, and this is the first time you've had an incident like this, otherwise we'd be forced to take action.

Separation

More work with other facilities has now fallen on her. One day, she dared to inquire about SCP-049. But she didn't get a clear answer.

Meanwhile, SCP-049 was asking the same question to the staff - when would Dr. Lewandowski visit?

— We're sorry, but Dr. Lewandowski has declined to work with you, SCP-049.

— ...That can't be true, you're lying! She couldn't have done it, I can feel it!

Subject SCP-049 became hostile to the Foundation, uncooperative and drove all attempts at contact away.

All or Nothing

— "Is the dream and freedom worth risking the lives and safety of others?" — Pondered by Dr. Lewandowski . — "Risking everything, insanity, selfishness(?). But if it's for a great purpose, for the good of all mankind..."

INCIDENT ██-████

(Latest walkie-talkie recordings)

(Static noise and warning signal sound)

Operator One: (Confused) This is operator one. Security protocol has failed! Repeat, security protocol has failed! All subjects... all subjects are at large!

Agent █: Reporting a security breach in Sector 3. Doors unresponsive, cameras disabled. Looks like SCP-███ is out of control.

Commander ███████: be careful! Confirm the presence of the intruder and take action to apprehend him.

(Noise, sound of gunshots)

Agent ██: (panic) This is crazy! Reporting SCP-███ is not alone. There are several other objects present. Very aggressive, we need help, repeat ████████████████ (interference).

Commander ████████: Come in, Agent ██, come in!!! (communication lost).

Commander ████████: Fuck...

Dr. █████: It could be SCP-███! He could have hacked into the security system and released the other facilities.

Commander ████: █████, are you sure? How?!

Dr. █████: I can't say for sure, but... (struggle noise) HOW ARE YOU!? STOP, DOCTOR... (interference).

Commander ████: All personnel to the assault! Stop the targets at all costs! What the hell's going on! Where's all the security personnel!?

(explosions, shouting)

Agent █████: They're all over the place

Agent ██: Where's the ██ squad?

Agent █████: they're holding back SCP-682

Agent ██: he's the last fucking thing we need!

SB-2: SB-1, this is SB-2! We've got-- we've got SCP-███breaking through! We can't stop him!

SB-1: Hold him off at all costs! Support is on the way.

(Siren and explosions)

Operator Three: SB-1, this is Operator Three! The ██ camera signal is gone! SCP-█████... he's out!

SB-1: All SB personnel to camera ██! Isolate SCP-█████! Repeat, isolate SCP-█████! (radio interference)

End of Calm

There has been a massive failure of the entire Foundation security system in Area 19, as well as a power failure. Security protocol, alarms, and warnings went off with a delay with most of the dangerous objects wreaking havoc in the Foundation. The alleged culprit of the SCP-“”" incident. Likely had accomplices, an investigation is underway.

During the incident, a large number of soldiers and staff died. There was a leak of several objects to freedom. The lists of dead and missing were equal. Dr. Snezana Lewandowski and SCP-049 were also listed as missing, among dozens of personnel and facilities.

The SCP Foundation, having suffered loss and damage, is doing its best to restore order after the chaos, but the world is no longer safe as before.

3. Conversations between Lewandowski and SCP-049

Interviewer: Dr. Snezhana Lewandowski, Area 19

Interviewee: SCP-049

[START RECORDING]

Dr. Lewandowski: Good afternoon, SCP-049. I am your psychologist, Dr. Snezhana Lewandowski. It's a pleasure to meet you!

SCP-049: Greetings, doctor, I hope we can work together.

Dr. Lewandowski: I think so! So, how are you feeling today?

SCP-049: (pause) I feel... A burden. A burden that is hard to describe in words. Every day I see suffering, and it depresses me.

Dr. Lewandowski: Are you talking about human suffering? About those whom you refer to as sick people?

SCP-049: Yes. The weathering is not just a physical condition. This world, this wretched piece of the universe, is forever doomed to suffer. (Irritated) Mortals, powerless over their own weaknesses, forever seek salvation in false doctrines and vain hopes. They build cities out of flimsy material, create weapons that can destroy themselves, and cling to life without realizing its true nature. I see their pain, their despair, feel their fear of the inevitable. And I know I can help them. But they don't understand. They fear me! They reject my mercy! They call me a monster, a monstrosity! I see them trying to stop me, lock me up, impose their rules. But can you limit what is beyond their comprehension? Can one defeat that which is eternal? Their attempts are futile. I will always exist. Let them resist, let them fear. It only confirms their blindness.

(A moment's silence)

Dr. Lewandowski: (Sigh)...Have you ever thought about why this “fever” bothers you so much? What exactly causes you to feel so strongly about it?

SCP-049: (sighs) I have witnessed a lot of suffering. I have seen people lose hope, I have seen them fall victim to their weakness. This makes me want to help, but sometimes I feel that my efforts are futile.

Dr. Lewandowski: Do you feel that your help is really effective? Or is there any doubt about your methods?

SCP-049: (with some irritation) My methods are the only way to free people from their suffering! I cannot afford to doubt my vocation. But sometimes... It catches up with me.

Dr. Lewandowski: It is normal to have doubts. Many people face similar feelings. What do you do to deal with these emotions?

SCP-049: I continue my work. I focus on my goals.

Dr. Lewandowski: Maybe you should take time to reflect on yourself and your feelings. It may help you better understand your motivation and calm your mind.

SCP-049: I don't think so, but... You may be right. I worry that if I stop, the darkness around me will consume everything.

Dr. Lewandowski: (Pause)...How I understand that. Sometimes you have to take a step back to see the big picture. It doesn't mean you stop fighting the disease. It can only make you stronger.

SCP-049: Perhaps...

Dr. Lewandowski: This is an important step. And remember, you are not alone in your experience. I'm here to help you make sense of it.

SCP-049: Thank you... I'll try to remember that.

[END RECORDING]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Interviewer: Dr. Snezhana Lewandowski, Area 19

Interviewee: SCP-049

[START RECORDING]

Dr. Lewandowski: Good evening Doctor, how are you feeling?

SCP-049: It would be better if I were allowed to return to my work.

Dr. Lewandowski: Don't worry Doctor, you will definitely be given that opportunity...

SCP-049: Really? Really!? I'm finally going back to work, I'm glad to hear that! When do I get a patient?

Dr. Lewandowski: ...Unfortunately, I don't have that information.

SCP-049: Maybe you could influence this situation? Explain my urgent need to progress with my treatment!

Dr. Lewandowski: I don't think I can... Doctor, you need to rest, you've been working hard. As a doctor, you should know that rest is very important for high productivity.

SCP-049: (Sighs) I wish I had something to do in these four walls...

Dr. Lewandowski: I have a suggestion. Do you like to read? I can bring you some books if the Foundation leadership says so.

SCP-049: That's a very marvelous idea.

Dr. Lewandowski: What kind of literature do you prefer?

SCP-049: I was interested in modern books about medicine, it is interesting to study what is being written about it now. It would be interesting to read something from philosophy.

Dr. Lewandowski: Excellent choice Doctor, we have the same taste in literature. Would you mind if I brought a couple more books on my recommendation for you?

SCP-049: Sounds good, I agree.

Dr. Lewandowski: See you, Doctor.

SCP-049: See you, thank you for such an interesting proposal, Dr. Lewandowski.

[END OF RECORDING]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Interviewer: Dr. Snezhana Lewandowski, Area 19

Interviewee: SCP-049

[START RECORDING]

Dr. Lewandowski: Good evening, Doctor.

SCP-049: Good evening, Dr. Lewandowski.

Dr. Lewandowski: I want to understand how you feel when you look at the world through the prism of your...your uniqueness.

SCP-049: (hesitantly) Uniqueness?

Dr. Lewandowski: I'm talking about wisdom. You have lived for centuries, watching the birth and decline of civilizations. What have you learned in that time?

(Minute's silence)

SCP-049: I've seen nations rise and fall, empires born of dust and turned to stone, ideas ignite people's hearts and turn to ash. (Pause). I realized that existence is a perpetual cycle of birth and death, a constant struggle for survival. People are so hungry for meaning, but it eludes them.

Dr. Lewandowski: Isn't this struggle, this longing for meaning, the very essence of being?

SCP-049: (With sadness in his voice) Meaning... (Pause) It wanders like a ghost through the labyrinths of our consciousness. We search for it in religion, in science, in art, but it eludes us, leaving only emptiness.

Dr. Lewandowski: But don't you see, Doctor? You create your own meaning by helping people to get rid of the disease. You believe in what you're doing, Doctor. You believe it's necessary.

SCP-049: Faith... (Pause) This is another one of those ghosts that haunt us. I see things that others do not see, and it pains me. It pains me to see the suffering that is inevitable for all living things.

Dr. Lewandowski: And you're trying to help, Doctor...

SCP-049: (Interrupting) We are but pawns in the hands of fate. Our actions are insignificant in comparison to eternity.

Dr. Lewandowski: Don't say that, Doctor. You are not a pawn. You are the creator of your own destiny. And I believe you will find your path, your meaning.

SCP-049: (Heavy sigh) But not in this place, not here, not now.

Dr. Lewandowski: (Pause) You know Doctor... I'd like to share with you a thought that has been on my mind since I was a child.

SCP-049: What is it that's bothering you?

[recording interrupted for 5 minutes]

Dr. Lewandowski: I almost forgot, the Foundation gave me permission to bring you some books.

(Took several books out of her bag and placed a stack on the table next to the subject)

SCP-049: (With joy in her voice) Glad to hear that! Immensely grateful to the Foundation and of course to you, Dr. Lewandowski.

Dr. Lewandowski: (Smiling) I'm glad it lifted your spirits. See you later, we'll be sure to discuss what we read next time.

SCP-049: I look forward to seeing you.

[END RECORDING]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Interviewer: Dr. Snezhana Lewandowski, Zone 19

Interviewee: SCP-049

[START RECORDING]

Dr. Lewandowski: Hello, Doctor! How are you today?

SCP-049: Good afternoon, Dr. Lewandowski. I'm feeling... quite well. I've been studying some of the books you brought me at the last meeting.

Dr. Lewandowski: Excellent! Which books did you enjoy the most?

SCP-049: I was impressed with the works on human nature. Their authors convey emotions and experiences in a very subtle way.

Dr. Lewandowski: Yes, literature can indeed be a great way to understand people. Is there anything that surprised you about these books?

SCP-049: I was surprised by how diverse human feelings are. Everyone experiences love, fear, and hope in their own way.

Dr. Lewandowski: Yes, humans are amazing creatures! What about you? Have you ever experienced something similar to love?

SCP-049: (Pause) I'm not sure. My life has been devoted to fighting the windfall, and I haven't given much thought to such feelings. But... sometimes I feel warm when I talk to you. (turns away)

Dr. Lewandowski: I'm glad to see your condition has improved markedly. I feel warm when we talk, too. (Pause) You are an unusually interesting conversationalist.

SCP-049: (surprised) Interesting? I've always thought of myself as rather... odd. But it's nice to hear you say that. You don't hear that very often in this place, in general... I've never heard it from you.

Dr. Lewandowski: Weird people can be very interesting! We all have our unique qualities. For example, your view of the world is something special, not strange. By the way, have you read that novel?

SCP-049: The Master and Margarita? Yes, an interesting work about the power of love and the struggle against darkness.

Dr. Lewandowski: I think there are so many layers and philosophical themes there. You know, you sound like the Master (Laughs).

SCP-049: Hmm... There's something, maybe, and you remind me of Marguerite.

Dr. Lewandowski: (Laughs) That's probably true. Unfortunately, I have to go. Don't forget, you deserve to be understood. And I'm here to help you do just that.

SCP-049: (With a slight sadness in his voice) Your support gives me strength.

Dr. Lewandowski: We all need each other's support.

SCP-049: I look forward to our future conversations.

[END OF RECORDING]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Interviewer: Dr. Snezhana Lewandowski, Area 19

Interviewee: SCP-049

[START RECORDING]

Dr. Lewandowski: Good afternoon Doctor, I would like to know what your thoughts have been occupied with lately?

SCP-049: Greetings. (Pause) Relatively recently, I've been thinking about the nature of human cruelty.

Dr. Lewandowski: Cruelty... (Pause) Unfortunately, it permeates every facet of existence, like a shadow that follows the light.

SCP-049: Yes. (Sighs) I watch people, and it makes me sad how capable they are of terrible things. There is a darkness lurking in their hearts that sometimes overshadows even the brightest impulses.

Dr. Lewandowski: As it happens, humanity is a paradox. On the one hand, it creates beautiful works of art, science and culture, and on the other hand, it is capable of ruthless acts of violence and hatred.

SCP-049: Exactly. I see how people can be kind and compassionate, but at the same time they easily cross the line into becoming instruments of destruction. It causes me deep sadness and bewilderment.

Dr. Lewandowski: I share your feelings and support your thoughts, Doctor.

SCP-049: It is most gratifying to know that, Dr. Lewandowski. My mission is to rid mankind of disease. At times I am at a loss as to what to do about this inner cruelty? How do you heal a society that is tearing itself apart?

Dr. Lewandowski: You see, many of these atrocities come from fear, ignorance and hatred. Or perhaps they were mentally wounded once, and that wound, without proper treatment, began to fester, infecting the whole mind and soul.

SCP-049: (Interested) I like the way you think. Abuse is not just physical violence. It is also words that hurt, betrayals and indifference to the suffering of others. In each of these acts I see a reflection of the disease.

Dr. Lewandowski: (Sigh) Sadly, dreams of a world where humanity can overcome its cruelty and learn to love are utopian.

SCP-049: I'm not so sure about that. It's certainly not an easy task, the whole world and one me, the road to healing is long and thorny. But the more I work at it, the closer that peace comes.

Dr. Lewandowski: (Pause) Perhaps someday people will realize that cruelty is not part of their true nature. Perhaps they will learn to see in each other a reflection of themselves and learn to care for those who suffer. Perhaps... (Pause) But sometimes you get the idea that some people are so rotten in their souls that treatment will be useless, and the only thing left to do is to rid the world of that person so they don't hurt others. This is not humane, but in such a case it is possible to make sure that this person stays alive but is not capable of hurting others.

SCP-049: (Surprised) Your thoughts make sense. We've had a rather pleasant dialog. I've never had such an in-depth discussion with anyone else. I feel much better.

Dr. Lewandowski: (Smiling) That's wonderful, Doctor, I confess I don't often have someone to talk to about this either.

[END RECORDING]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Interviewer: Dr. Snezhana Lewandowski, Area 19

Interviewee: SCP-049

[START RECORDING]

Dr. Lewandowski: Good afternoon, Doctor, how is your mood?

SCP-049: Greetings. My mood is a little down, without my work I'm having a hard time mentally.

Dr. Lewandowski: I'm sorry to hear that, Doctor. (Pause) Let me ask you something.

SCP-049: I'm listening to you.

Dr. Lewandowski: Do you have any pleasant memory from your life?

SCP-049: (Sighs) Unfortunately, there aren't many... (Pause) I do recall one. Yes, it was a time when I was out in the wild, searching for rare herbs and plants in the forest. No people and just the sounds of nature. And then I came to a field, a field of lavender. (Sighs) It's... It was a magical feeling. The field was filled with bright colors and the air was full of a light, slightly spicy aroma. I felt like I was in another world, away from my worries. I walked slowly among the flowers, watching the bees as they worked to gather nectar. The bees are not aware of the suffering that humans are experiencing, they are just doing their job, benefiting the world around them. It made me think: maybe that's what humanity needs - the simple pursuit of the good. (Pause) The whole day I was there. It was wonderful. I dream of being in that moment again one day.

Dr. Lewandowski: That's... It's a wonderful memory, very beautiful.

SCP-049: Yes... It's beautiful. You know, I feel a little better.

Dr. Lewandowski: (Smiling) That's wonderful to hear. Try to remember something else, good thoughts can smooth out your condition within these walls.

SCP-049: I'll try. Thank you for encouraging me to remember this.

[END RECORDING]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Interviewer: Dr. Snezhana Lewandowski, Area 19

Interviewee: SCP-049

[START RECORDING]

Dr. Lewandowski: Good afternoon Doctor, how is your mood?

SCP-049: Good afternoon Snezka. I guess my mood is somewhere between average and good. Good to see you, how are you feeling?

Dr. Lewandowski: I'm not bad. I have something I'd like to give you. I had a hard time getting permission for it from the foundation, but....

(Took out of her bag a small pillow with a lavender flower print pillowcase and placed it on the table in front of the subject).

This is for you. I remember that you don't need sleep, but that's not what it's for. Rather it is for coziness, and your favorable mood. This pillow is stuffed with lavender.

SCP-049: (Surprised) It's for me?! What a wonderful gift, lavender really calms me down.

Dr. Lewandowski: I'm glad the gift is useful to you. I would have brought you something else, but unfortunately the Foundation has only authorized this one so far.

SCP-049: I am honored by such attention, thank you, Dr..... Snezka. (Pause) ...How did I not notice that... Your last name is...

Dr. Lewandowski: (Interested) Hmm?

SCP-049: Lewandowski, that last name comes from the Old Polish word levanda, which means lavender. What a wonderful coincidence, my favorite plant.

Dr. Lewandowski: (Smiles) Yes, that's right, my favorite too by the way. I am amazed at your knowledge, Doctor!

SCP-049: It is a pleasure to be appreciated and understood by you. I must admit, you are not out of my mind.

Dr. Lewandowski: (Embarrassed) Oh... You know, it's mutual. Doctors aren't supposed to have favorites, but I have to admit...(Pause) You're my favorite patient.

(momentary silence)

SCP-049: I wish we could meet more often...

Dr. Lewandowski: I'd like that too, Doctor...

[END OF RECORDING]

Supplement

https://www.tumblr.com/snezka-049/766312832505626624/snezka-and-doctor-reference-and-lore-scp-049?source=share

[into-september]

Haven't watched the London special but have two observations on when we'll see Adrien learning the truth

DIEGETICALLY: The butterfly miraculous is still lost by the time Alix is in her twenties

ON THE META LEVEL: People talk a lot about Adrien being denied the truth about his dad but I haven't seen anyone bring up Cat Noir being denied the truth about Hawkmoth's demise.

Between "your dad was the supervillain who wanted to change history so your mum never died" and "your dad spent his last months in agony and died by literally rotting to pieces because of the magic that it was your job to use responsibly", we all know which is the worse news. The Movie showed us the first being overcome even after said dad had laid Paris in ruins; the NYC special showed us Adrien's collapse after less than half of that happened to a stranger and then was fixed.

From the way people are posting about the London special, I have the distinct impression that it was also not the part of the problem that the writers were interested in milking for angst. The real focus of this episode should've been Plagg, Alix and Tikki dealing with the aftermath of "Destruction", but instead the fandom is here discussing whether or not we should absolve Marinette for being used to strip the flooring after the writers painted themselves into a corner. The show asks us to pass our judgment on Marinette's choice, but claiming that this is Marinette's choice to make is a fallacy.

Let's be clear on this: "Destruction" exists because there had to be an in-story explanation for why the show won't deal with Adrien learning Hawkmoth's identity. There is a pretense of discussing the morality of Marinette's decision to heed Gabriel's wish above Adrien's autonomy, but per the genre and the tone and the focus and the target audience, there was no other option.

Because here is the truly wild part of this whole debacle: Marinette isn't even making an informed decision. She doesn't have an inkling of what Hawkmoth's identity would do to Adrien. Only when The Reveal happens will she know the gruesome extent of the tragedy that is Adrien Agreste and the true weight of the secret she opted to keep; if she hadn't decided to hide the truth on her own, Plagg/Tikki/Alix would be forced to interfere. Yes Marinette's actions are terrible horrible no good very bad, but if stopping Cat Noir from activating his cataclysm in the wax museum would inevitably lead to Gabriel reviving his angelic wife (which was somehow a worse ending than him reviving his supervillain secretary???), then the solution should be to go back to "Origins" and make sure Master Fu gave Plagg's miraculous to literally anyone else than his son. The real question left by the S5 finale isn't "should Marinette tell Adrien", it is why it was a cosmic necessity that Gabriel Agreste was killed by his own son when Ladybug's team has access to the miraculous who could prevent that tragedy.

There is no universe where the thematically coherent and narratively satisfying climax of the story about Cat Noir and Hawkmoth is "Adrien confronts his girlfriend about lying", and the bitter comfort is that it won't be. If the truth of Hawkmoth's identity ever were to reach Adrien, his girlfriend lying about it would be the least of his sorrows, because those sorrows would be so grotesque that there is no way the show will ever acknowledge them; closure to this storyline was made impossible the moment it was decided that Gabriel would take his death at Adrien's literal hands. When "parents go to jail" was too dark for the networks, I somehow don't think they'll be interested in doing the first ever production of Oedipus Rex for the 4-10 audience.

[moonflowergirlsworld]

Yandere Drabble

Aalto

On the surface, Aalto appears to be driven by money and self-interest. He’s unpredictable and skittish, often leading others to underestimate him.

However, this façade hides his real intentions: he’s actually deeply calculating, gathering information, and keeping you close, all while you think you are in control.

Aalto is always around, gathering intel and manipulating circumstances in the background. He doesn’t make his presence known directly, instead working from the shadows and quietly positioning himself as a valuable asset to you.

Based on Aalto’s personality traits and the way he operates, he would fall under the category of Cunning and Mysterious Yandere—a type that’s elusive, and highly strategic in keeping his obsession under wraps.

Aalto's obsession would be quiet, calculated, and full of layers that you wouldn’t immediately notice.

Aalto's yandere tendencies would be subtle, intricate, and wrapped in layers of deceit, like a spider weaving an inescapable web around his beloved.

He wouldn’t show his obsession outright, that’d ruin the fun.

He could appear in his your life as a helpful stranger, a harmless passerby, or even a rival—all to keep tabs or steer events to his liking.

Aalto’s love would be a game of carefully orchestrated moves. He would keep his true feelings hidden behind a facade of erratic behavior and his "greedy" persona.

Aalto would use his vast network and mastery of intel to monitor your every move. If you even think about slipping away, he already knows where you’ll go before you do.

He’s a master at blending into the background, adapting to whatever situation or emotional state is needed. He’ll appear to be an unpredictable, chaotic person, but underneath, he’s meticulously observing, adjusting, and ensuring you never see his obsession.

Fair exchange, but only his version of “fair”.

If you want freedom, it’ll cost you dearly. He’d propose choices that always lead back to him, making it seem like your dependence on him is your own doing.

He might even use Encore to emotionally trap you.

He’d play the part of a trustworthy confidant, always there to support and protect, while subtly undermining any relationship or connection that threatens his position in your life.

“You came to me again,” he murmured, his tone smooth yet laced with a subtle satisfaction. “Funny how that keeps happening. You must trust me a great deal.”

His “help” often feels like a gift, but it comes with a price. Aalto will make sure you become dependent on him—he’ll always be the one with the answers, the connections, the solutions—but only if you accept his terms, his rules.

“You pay me in the sweetest currency of all: trust.”

He gives nothing freely and expects something in return for every favor, whether it’s an action, trust, or subtle loyalty. He doesn’t force your feelings, but he ensures that you only have one choice in the end: him.

“Freedom is an illusion, my dear, And you’re already mine.”

You’d never know you’re trapped. Aalto’s obsession is so meticulous, so quietly suffocating, that you might think you’re the one seeking him out, relying on him, and loving him of your own free will.

His obsession isn’t violent or overt—it's psychological and strategic.

“Your availability to anyone else depends on my remuneration—your love, your loyalty, and your every thought.”

He controls your reality through information, trust, and the illusion of freedom. His unpredictable exterior masks the fact that everything is meticulously planned.

“As long as you're willing to pay the price, I’ll always be here. You’ll need me more than you think."

Once you are caught in his web, there is no escape because you  are led to believe you are in control, even when you aren't.

By the time you realize the extent of his obsession, it may be too late.

Aalto’s quiet influence will have shaped your entire world, and you will be so deeply dependent on him that leaving is no longer an option.

He will become your world, your protector, and your only ally. His love, while never overtly possessive, will be inescapable—because once Aalto has you in his sights, you belong to him, body and mind.

[rainydetectiveglitter]

Every Person You Know Is One of These

I've been deep-diving into Human Design lately. As a 4/6 Mental Projector (only ~3% of people are Mental Projectors), I’m not saying I’m special and it honestly feels like a curse half the time. But I’ll be sharing more soon.

For now, here’s your Human Design profile superpower.

1/3 Investigator/Martyr

Generator — Digs deep and creates solid structures that last, learning through real-world action.

Manifesting Generator — Breaks through barriers fast, making their mistakes into stepping stones for success.

Projector — Sees patterns and systems clearly, guiding others with laser-sharp precision.

Reflector — Instantly senses what’s wrong, reflecting back the hidden flaws for all to see.

1/4 Investigator/Opportunist

Generator — Builds a strong foundation through deep knowledge and focuses on long-term growth.

Manifesting Generator — Moves quickly, pivoting and adapting to new opportunities as they arise.

Projector — Recognizes talent and potential in others, helping them find the right direction.

Reflector — Mirrors back the collective strengths and weaknesses, helping others see their true potential.

2/4 Hermit/Opportunist

Generator — Focuses on perfecting their craft, creating valuable work that attracts others.

Manifesting Generator — Masters multiple skills at once and uses them to solve problems quickly.

Projector — Observes deeply and provides practical, intuitive guidance when asked.

Reflector — Sees and reflects back hidden talents, helping others realize their potential.

2/5 Hermit/Heretic

Generator — Deeply skilled, works in isolation, and attracts others who need their expertise.

Manifesting Generator — Quick to spot solutions, moves independently to create lasting results.

Projector — Shares perspective that challenges norms, helping others rethink their approach.

Reflector — Reflects the potential for change, showing others where they can improve or evolve.

3/5 Martyr/Heretic

Generator — Embraces mistakes as growth, creating a path to mastery by overcoming every obstacle.

Manifesting Generator — Tackles challenges head-on and turns every failure into a stepping stone.

Projector — Spots inefficiencies and offers game-changing advice that others may not see.

Reflector — Sees the bigger picture and guides others to evolve through trial and error.

3/6 Martyr/Role Model

Generator — Grows stronger through every setback, becoming a force to be reckoned with.

Manifesting Generator — Learns fast from experience, inspiring others by embodying resilience.

Projector — Uses lived experience to guide others with clarity and authority.

Reflector — Reflects the lessons learned from failures and inspires others to grow through them.

4/6 Opportunist/Role Model

Generator — Builds deep relationships that create lasting success, thriving on trust and stability.

Manifesting Generator — Moves quickly and uses their network to create opportunities for others.

Projector — Brings strategic insight to relationships, helping others see the big picture.

Reflector — Mirrors the potential for success, showing others how to rise by making smart connections.

4/1 Opportunist/Investigator

Generator — Strengthens the foundation of their work, ensuring it’s solid and dependable.

Manifesting Generator — Builds quickly, ensuring everything they do can sustain growth over time.

Projector — Understands how systems work and helps others navigate them effectively.

Reflector — Reflects the integrity of systems, showing others how to build something lasting.

5/1 Heretic/Investigator

Generator — Creates value through knowledge and deep understanding, making things that last.

Manifesting Generator — Leverages their skills to solve complex problems and show others the way forward.

Projector — Offers transformative insights that shift how others approach challenges.

Reflector — Reflects hidden truths, showing others the deeper layers that they missed.

5/2 Heretic/Hermit

Generator — Masters their craft in silence, only offering their skills when it’s most impactful.

Manifesting Generator — Moves quickly to create change, leveraging their talents to shift the status quo.

Projector — Delivers quiet but profound guidance that changes the course for others.

Reflector — Reflects opportunities and challenges, guiding others to see what’s truly possible.

6/2 Role Model/Hermit

Generator — Builds long-term stability through quiet mastery, growing into a steady source of wisdom.

Manifesting Generator — Moves swiftly from one project to the next, leading others by showing them what’s possible.

Projector — Offers wise direction, helping others make aligned decisions with ease.

Reflector — Reflects wisdom from life’s lessons, showing others the way forward with quiet certainty.

6/3 Role Model/Martyr

Generator — Builds resilience through every trial, showing others how to rise from failure.

Manifesting Generator — Constantly evolves through setbacks, creating a path forward for others to follow.

Projector — Guides from experience, helping others grow by avoiding past mistakes.

Reflector — Reflects the transformation from hardship, inspiring others to grow through challenges.

Find your Human Design here ↓

https://www.myhumandesign.com/

[probablyasocialecologist]

What differentiates the fragile and polluting farm economy we have today from one that regenerates the land while producing a diversity of food in an unstable climate? The fundamental difference between these two farm economies is that one is capital-intensive, while the other is management-intensive. A management-intensive operation is one in which the primary asset of the agricultural operation is the observation, engagement and intervention by farm workers.7 A management-intensive operation simply has far more farm worker engagement per acre than a capital-intensive operation. In a capital-intensive operation, the primary assets are capital investments acquired using loans from a bank, which are then utilized to operate at the greatest scale possible using as little labor as possible, with the goal of reducing production costs and maximizing profit through the achievement of economies of scale. Both management- and capital-intensive operations utilize labor and capital to achieve a yield. What differentiates them is the balance between labor and capital. Management-intensive farms tend to be smaller, as the importance of human observation and engagement acts as a natural barrier to developing scale. These smaller farms also tend to be more diverse, as crop rotation and the inclusion of animals are prioritized in order to maximize ecosystem health and to reduce inputs. A system of small, management-intensive farms working in a decentralized self-organizing network would mirror the resilience, productivity and diversity of an ecosystem that has been freed from industrial disturbance. What a healthy ecosystem demonstrates is that the most efficient means of cycling energy within a system is through a complex network of relationships between mutually beneficial organisms. It is resilient not just because it is diverse, but because it is a decentralized self-organizing system, wherein portions of the system are capable of functioning on their own should they be severed from the larger network. These are the features that we should be trying to replicate as we design a new agricultural economy. By orienting ourselves towards management-intensive operations, we would be doing just that.

[klimkovsky]

Globular star cluster Messier 2

Messier 2 (M2), also known as NGC 7089, is a globular star cluster located in the constellation Aquarius. Here are some key details about M2:

Location: It is situated approximately 37,500 light-years away from Earth towards the center of our Milky Way galaxy.

Discovery: M2 was discovered by Jean-Dominique Maraldi in 1746, but it was Charles Messier who included it in his catalog in 1760 as the second entry (hence the designation M2).

Physical Characteristics:

Magnitude: M2 has an apparent visual magnitude of about 6.5, making it visible with binoculars under good conditions, though it appears as a faint smudge to the naked eye.

Size: It has an apparent diameter of about 16 arc minutes, but its true physical diameter is around 175 light-years.

Star Count: It contains hundreds of thousands of stars, with estimates suggesting around 150,000 to one million stars.

Age: Globular clusters like M2 are some of the oldest objects in the universe. M2 is estimated to be around 13 billion years old.

Composition: M2 is known for its high density of stars in the core, where stars are packed closely together. This cluster includes various types of stars, from red giants to blue stragglers, which are thought to be the result of stellar collisions or mergers within the dense environment.

Scientific Interest:

M2 has been studied extensively for insights into stellar evolution, particularly because of its variable stars like RR Lyrae variables, which are used as standard candles for measuring galactic distances.

Observations have included detailed studies with the Hubble Space Telescope, which has helped in understanding the dynamics of the stars within such densely packed regions.

Observation Tips: For those interested in observing M2:

Use a telescope with at least a 4-inch aperture for a better view; larger apertures will reveal more detail.

It's best seen in late summer or early autumn from the northern hemisphere. In the southern hemisphere, it's visible during winter months.

M2 is not only a beautiful object to observe but also a treasure trove for astronomers studying stellar populations, dynamics within globular clusters, and the history of our galaxy.

Grok AI

In addition to what the neural network has said, it should be added that astronomers have not yet come to a consensus regarding the distance to the M2 cluster. Along with the estimate of 37.5 thousand light years, another value is no less persistently mentioned on the network — 55 thousand light years. This disagreement looks very similar to a banal error in converting miles to kilometers, although this could not happen in astronomy. In fact, the difference in the distance estimate is due to the use of different methods. The method of direct parallax measurement gives a smaller result, but at such a distance, parallax measurements are extremely unreliable. The method associated with the Cepheids and RR-Lyrids gives a larger distance to the cluster, although it cannot take into account the absorption of star light by the interstellar medium, and as a consequence — a drop in their brightness with distance, which near the plane of our Galaxy no longer obeys the inverse square relationship.

Does the truth lie somewhere in the middle — at the level of 46 thousand light years? — in this case it is hardly correct to assume such a solution as the most probable.

In addition, the shape of the M2 cluster is noticeably flattened, which indicates a fairly rapid axial rotation. This gives rise to the assumption that the globular star cluster Messier 2 in its distant past is the core of a dwarf galaxy that merged with other similar galaxies, forming our Milky Way galaxy in the first few billion years of the Universe's existence.

There is also a clarification regarding the age of the cluster — it is most likely somewhat younger than the AI assumed — not 13, but about 12.5 billion years. But according to the results of some studies, the age of the M2 cluster is estimated to be less than 12 billion years.

Globular star cluster Messier 2 by Hubble Space Telescope

[thrawns-backrest]

Well well, would you look at that, link insertion finally decided to do its job. Anyway, new (relatively long) chapter out and we've got new characters this time too.

Title: Buried in Ice

Characters: Ronan, Eli, Ba'kif and others

Chapters: 13/?

Summary: Ronan adjusts to life with the Chiss when a sudden revelation leads him to realize that his fate is not as firmly in his hands as he'd thought it was.

___

Rhoar was a largely unremarkable place. Not by chiss standards perhaps but Ronan had seen so many like it that he couldn’t help the twang of homesick nostalgia in his chest.

Perhaps the only remarkable thing about it was that the motley farrago of beings and businesses seemed to be contained almost entirely to its handful of trading hubs, the rest of the planet swathed in rolling hills, fields and a pair of snow-capped poles that Ronan had observed upon their approach from space. Back home, those hubs would either be part of a planetary-wide network or otherwise be tucked between the places of residence of regular citizens.

But Rhoar was not just any world. It was a chiss trade world.

Ronan hadn’t even known about the existence of such worlds until recently though in hindsight it made sense. The steady stream of exotic goods that Syndics and Aristocra scratched each other’s egos with had to come from somewhere and singular excursions into alien space couldn’t possibly cut it. Neither were alien merchants allowed on chiss worlds for the sake of security.

Trade worlds were the solution to that problem.

Most importantly, Ronan thought as he gazed out the floor-to-ceiling viewport of his luxurious residence, they were also the only places where the chiss mingled and coexisted with a variety of other species. And that was all that mattered.

“The artisan market is right across the street from here. You’re highly advised to stick to that part of the city for safety purposes. Most of the species here speak Minniasat and Sy Bisti but in case you need them, there are kiosks where you can hire translators,” his guide finished in a bored tone and Ronan turned to him with a strained smile.

“Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind,” he told the man with a nod.

Ronan couldn’t for the life of him tell if this was the same aide that had shown him around Csaplar when he’d first been dropped off on Csilla. Though he had the same annoyed, dispassionate air about him that implied he was doing this on autopilot and couldn’t care less about Ronan.

The man nodded back looking glad to be relieved of his duties and left Ronan to his own devices, the hatch sliding shut behind him with a sophisticated hiss. Everything in the room, Ronan noted, seemed like it had been made for nobility.

Naturally, the merchants crawling around the local markets were from all manner and walks of life. But the privilege of visiting Rhoar seemed to be reserved for the highest tiers of chiss society, as evidenced by the shiny hotel complexes and luxury villas that had been built to house them on their trips.

Regular citizens on Csilla also enjoyed access to the goods being sold here but Ronan supposed that had to do with the massive section of the hub’s port dedicated to freighters and cargo ships.

Either way, he decided as he pushed his hover case towards the bed, it wasn’t the chiss on Rhoar he was interested in.

After hastily unpacking his belongings, he ate a quick meal in his room and made the short trip from his residence to the market right across the street. The few odd looks on the way there were a given, mostly from the chiss lingering around their fancy buildings, but once he reached the area of the market, it was like stepping into a whole new world.

A cramped, improvised lineup of stalls and display carts, the place was positively teeming with all manner of alien life and nobody seemed to pay him any mind as he weaved around the crowd. The majority of the stalls were dedicated to small trinkets and decorations but there were a few that specialized in more elaborate wares like clothing and dishware, arranged in flashy displays and aggressively peddled by hardened stall-owners.

The first thing Ronan noted was the relative ratio of chiss to aliens. Most of the people there seemed to be local species who had paid a small docking fee to explore the markets – and enjoy the benefits of chiss security, Ronan guessed – and he eyed them furtively as he pretended to examine the stalls.

Some of them, clearly tourists. Awestruck and distracted and generally not worth his attention. They drifted between the stalls, oohing and ahing at the merchants’ demonstrations and losing their way every so often in the general hubbub.

Others navigated the place with more confidence, moving in small groups and seeming more focused on their conversation than on any of the displays. They gesticulated heatedly in groups made up of two to three species and Ronan figured that it was only natural for such places to become meeting spots where interspecies relations took place. Politics, trade, gossip; all topics that could be discussed in the safety and anonymity of the general buzz of the markets.

With the added bonus of the hundred or so combat-uniformed chiss that hovered around the place like prison wardens. 

At the very least, Ronan guessed, no one had to worry about a political assassination or the consequences of a trade dispute gone awry. The chiss had the March of Silence, he supposed wryly, but noise was just as good at keeping you cloaked as silence was. Which the chiss seemed happy to overlook as long as they pocketed their docking fees.

Speaking of the chiss, they were the clear minority there yet they moved about the place with the unbothered confidence of people who knew they owned the place. But it was the fourth group; those who hurried to scurry out of their way, or otherwise let their gazes linger a bit too long, that caught Ronan’s eye.

Most of them walked with that awkward, hunched gait that Ronan associated with fringe dwellers or dirt-caked asteroid miners looking for their next spice hit and took special care to avoid the information kiosks and their menagerie of guards. Ronan followed a few of them from afar, noting the way they gravitated towards one specific alley, branching off the main street, then dutifully filed that information away for later. 

Finally, after getting a good feel for the lay of the land, he stopped at a few of the stalls, filling his pockets with useless trinkets like any other tourist, before focusing his attention on a few sparsely decorated cloaks made of a soft material that looked unremarkable enough at a glance. He lifted the edge of one and quickly pushed it back down, making sure the action would go unnoticed by anyone watching, and paid for the piece, assuring it remained folded as he made his way back to his rooms.

By the time he was back, the day outside was crawling towards twilight and his legs hurt something vicious.

There was a nervous energy thrumming through his body alongside the fatigue but he simply put away the cloak, checking for the glint of the credit chips he’d swiped from his uniform before coming here, before emptying the rest of his purchases with affected care and sitting down to have his evening meal.

The rest of the evening was spent in contemplation, with him staring at the expansive view outside his viewport. Anyone looking would see a man in the throes of a brooding fit.

In reality, Ronan’s mind had never been clearer.

He did more of the same field work the following day, retiring early in the evening for another lackluster meal and a check of his belongings. 

The next morning, he barely stopped himself from rising too early.

He put his clothes on with extra care, making sure the strip of fitted sheet he’d torn from his bedding the night before was safely tucked into a pocket – same for the credit chips from the bottom of his case – then made his way outside. The main street was as crowded as could be by this time and he felt a small layer of sweat gather on his upper back where the cloak’s hood was tucked out of sight.

After lingering at a few of the stalls and even starting a small argument with one of the stall-owners, he decided it was time to make his move and dove back into the main street. His opening came in the form of a thickening in the crowd gathered around a street performer, and he used the amalgamation of beings as cover to duck into a nearby alley.

His hands were slightly clumsy as they shucked off the cloak and turned it over, putting the white lining right side up, but they had regained their confidence by the time he wrapped the strip of bedding around his head, the way he’d seen some of the local aliens do.

Merging back into the crowd was easy enough from there.

He took a few more turns down streets he’d never been to before, trusting his intuition to guide him back to the main street, and finally reached the alley he’d scouted out the other day, ducking into it just as a large group of aliens cut through his path.

It looked just like the kind of place he’d pegged it for – darker, narrower and more fetid than any other part of the city he’d seen so far – and he felt a sense of triumph as he turned a corner and found a bar nestled into the crook of a dead end, with a bright neon sign above it.

There were a couple of aliens loitering around outside; they gave him bored looks as he passed but didn’t react otherwise.

It was inside, he knew, where he would really make an impact.

Pausing in the entryway to remove his shawl – he expected the smell to be fouler without it but the odors coming from the bar were surprisingly agreeable – he tucked it away in a pocket and pushed the cloak off his shoulders, letting it hang by the clasp around his neck.

Then, satisfied with the way it revealed the robes underneath, he took one last fortifying breath and stepped inside. 

To say the reaction was instantaneous would be an understatement.

Immediately, at least a dozen pairs of eyes locked on to him and followed his every step.

Most of them were smart enough not to pause their conversations so as not to be too obvious but Ronan could feel the weight of their attention on him like needles digging into his skin.

He made sure his gait was confident as he marched to the curved bar and sat himself on a stool, waving down the burly red-skinned barkeep. In the process, he let one of his goldworked sleeves flash under the overhead lights. 

Presentation was key here. And nobody understood good presentation better than Ronan.

Chances were, he guessed, nobody would even speak to him if he weren’t dressed like this. He would just be another shabby alien trying to look tough in a den of wannabe tough types. But the demonstration had done the trick.

Now all he needed was for someone to take the bait, Ronan decided as he pretended to examine his glass while surreptitiously letting his eyes roam over the assembled patrons. There was a good number of them still watching him, trying to hide it behind raised glasses or by averting their gaze every so often. 

They all looked like they could potentially make a move but Ronan preferred to narrow the scope a bit. The more humanoid, the more likely to be from Wild Space so he singled out those that fit the description and didn’t look too much like stereotypical thugs.

Finally, after a minute or so of waiting, he noticed one of them slide out of the booth where he’d been sitting with two others and sidle up to him, trying his best to look casual. Several sets of eyes followed him, some of them clusters of four or six, but did nothing to stop him, only looking mildly disappointed for having been beaten to the punch.

The man came to a stop on Ronan’s left and rattled off something unintelligible. Ronan regarded him with a sneer.

“Sy Bisti only, if you want a conversation,” he sniffed in said language, turning imperiously back to his drink.

You’re in control here, he told himself mentally. Act like it.

The alien narrowed his eyes for a moment before seemingly deciding it was still worth to pursue this and sliding into the bar stool next to Ronan’s.

“Sy Bisti it is then,” he said, his accent smooth and practiced. He ordered his own drink in Minnisiat and tipped the barman with a wink before turning back to Ronan.

“So, friend,” he began with a smile. “You may have already noticed but you’re a bit of an oddity around here.” He pointed around the bar with his glass. “Any chance you’d tell a curious soul what your story is?”

Ronan paused as if to consider the question. And in doing so took the opportunity to examine his companion more closely.

This section of space boasted dozens of species he’d never encountered before. All in one place, they blurred together into a faceless mass of exotic bone structures, feathers, ridges, scales and all colors and patterns of skin.

But up close like this, the differences became more defined.

The man next to him – Ronan was pretty sure he was a male, if such concepts existed in his species – looked humanoid for the most part except for the deep symmetrical groves cleaving his face, going up from his mouth to his cheekbones, their borders raised into ridges with an intricate system of organic bridges crossing from one side to the other. 

The sides of those bridges had an iridescent scaly texture that occasionally reflected the light of the bar in purples, teals and pinks and contrasted with the man’s muted white skin.

Ronan’s guess was that the groves were a sensory organ of some sort – he’d seen other species with complex skin formations meant to provide a large surface area for as many sensory cells as possible and this didn’t look much different.

The top of the man’s head was also covered in ridges where one would expect to see hair, though these had no groves in them. Other than that, his features were remarkably standard and Ronan felt confident enough to be able to read his expressions.

“That depends on what you can offer in exchange,” Ronan retorted and took a sip from his glass. Or rather let the liquid touch his lips briefly.

He couldn’t afford to look too much like an outsider but he wasn’t going to take any chances with these alien concoctions either.

The man next to him chuckled.

“I see you’re here to do business. But for starters, I’ll offer some advice. It’s not very wise to strut around these parts tricked up like that.” He paused as if to let Ronan take in their surroundings before letting his voice drop an octave. Ronan didn’t miss the way his eyes studied him, occasionally coming to rest on the gold accessory on Ronan’s right ear.

“Lots of folks around looking to make a quick buck and that coat alone is worth good money.”

“And yet none of you will so much as try to get it off me.”

“Oh? How so?”

Ronan felt his heartbeat pick up ever so slightly. 

This was the big gamble of his scheme. In theory he had a good grasp of how these people thought but that was just theory sans experience. He thought he knew but he could have misunderstood completely.

Time to put that to the test…

“You don’t want to make them angry,” he said, his voice faltering only a little bit. The reaction was more than he could have asked for as the man’s lips thinned and his mouth contracted.

Bullseye, Ronan thought, mentally patting himself on the back.

So he had been right.

They were all afraid of the chiss. 

This sector may have hundreds of species that ruled their own worlds without opposition and the aliens here acted all tough and mighty but when it came down to brass tacks, the chiss were still the big bad of the area.

No one wanted to get on their bad side. Not when they did such a jealous job of policing the place.

“And you know you will if you rob someone like me,” Ronan finished confidently. For a moment, his companion seemed like he wanted to argue but he seemed to be smart enough and saved them both the time.

“If you haven’t robbed someone already yourself,” he muttered. “What are you anyway? Some kind of weirdly pigmented blueskin?”

The word came out with unmistakable derision. Even on their own world, the chiss didn’t seem much beloved, Ronan noted.

“That’s beside the point. What isn’t beside the point is whether you can be of any use to me.”

The stranger’s ridged brows rose and he looked put off for a moment.

“I didn’t exactly come here to make a deal… but that might change depending on what you’re offering.”

Without a word, Ronan reached into his robe and pulled out a credit bar, placing it in front of the man and making sure the action remained unnoticed by the barkeep and the rest of the patrons.

Even in the dim light of the place, he saw the way the other’s eyes widened.

The logic behind it was simple.

If Alderaanian wine could reach this far outside the Rim and serve as an exotic souvenir, it stood to reason that other wares trickled in from the edges of Wild Space as well, changing hands from merchant to merchant until they travelled the necessary distance. Credits could make the same journey in the same way, only backwards. 

And if expensive smuggled goods were valuable here, so was clean, unmarked cash to the shady types that supplied them. It was a symbiotic relationship Ronan was well aware of. Not least of all because of all the backdoor channels Stardust used to get many of its resources. 

(Which was also incidentally why high-ranking Stardust personnel had access to those kinds of credits, Ronan thought cynically. That and it did miracles for bribery.)

In short, the best move for a merchant in possession of a smuggled, stolen or otherwise questionably acquired ware – the only kind these wares could be; no legitimate business traded with the Unknown Regions – was to sell it where no one was looking for it and getting a clean stack of cash in exchange raised the status of a potential buyer exponentially.

By the looks of it, his companion knew that too.

Which was exactly what Ronan had been banking on.

“Let me guess, there’s more where that came from,” the man said, picking the piece up and running his finger knowingly over the groves.

Ronan nodded.

“One hundred percent real. Unmarked, clean. You can take this one home with you and check, on the house. There’s also credit chips, unprogrammed, of course.”

“And what you’re asking for in exchange?”

He took a breath.

“Transport. To Lesser Space. I don’t care exactly where but I need to get there. You can have the clothes too,” he hurried to add. Too eager perhaps but he had the man on the hook and he didn’t want to lose him. “And the jewelry. But only once we’re off planet.”

There was a definite spark of interest in the man’s eyes. And it made a corresponding spark of hope light in Ronan’s chest.

“Well, my friend,” he chuckled at length, “it sounds to me like you might just have a deal.”

He pocketed the credit bar and leaned closer to Ronan in a casual friendly way. Ronan reasoned that it wouldn’t do to look too conspiring in front of his colleagues. It might just tip them off to what they were missing out on.

“And if that’s the case, a name might be a good start. Real or fake,” he waved a hand, “we’re not too sensitive about it here.”

“Just Ronan is fine.” He didn’t care either considering he would be out of here soon. “Though I have a feeling you’ll insist on calling me your ‘friend’.”

“Small pleasures.” The alien grinned. “As for yours truly, the name is Ildavo. Transport services extraordinaire.”

“Are they now?”

“Fast ship. Low rates. Good company. What more can you ask for?”

Ronan rolled his eyes. He could have said smuggler and left it at that. 

For the time being, though, this Ildavo fellow looked reliable enough. Not too ambitious to try anything funny based on how he’d reeled back from the deal at first and not too thick to not know his way around.

Altogether the curious type that wouldn’t close his door if luck decided to knock. He was clearly a local and a regular if the friendly conversation Ronan had interrupted was any indication and besides the small sidearm strapped to his thigh that most of the local alien populace seem to carry around (the limit to what the chiss permitted, Ronan guessed), Ronan couldn’t see anything to suggest he was dangerous.

They talked for a while longer, smoothing out the details of the deal, while making it look like they were talking about the weather. 

Just before they parted ways, Ildavo gripped his upper arm and locked eyes with him. 

“Just so we’re clear, this doesn’t have the potential of getting me in trouble with our benevolent blue overlords, does it?” he asked intently and Ronan could feel the tension in his voice.

“If they were going to do something about it, they would have already,” Ronan lied. “As far as they know, you’re a clueless third party.”

“I’m not comfortable with the thought they might know anything about me at all.”

“I told you, they don’t.”

He seemed reluctantly appeased and Ronan reminded him of the credit chips once again for good measure before taking his leave, keeping a low profile now that everything was in place.

A shady-looking alien who had been side-eyeing him for a while stood up to follow but Ildavo was a smooth operator and Ronan watched him put an arm around the alien’s shoulders and steer it back to the bar.

“Friend! Why don’t you let me buy you a drink…”

Ronan shook his head.

He had no doubt Ildavo would go back to his companions and spin a completely false story about their conversation. If nothing else, the self-serving ingenuity of fringe-dwellers could always be relied on, he decided.

The trip back to the apartment was less tense but just as elaborate and by the time he’d flipped his cloak again and traversed most of the market’s back alleys to throw off any pursuers, he was more than ready to collapse into his bed and not think of any of this again for a lifetime.

A lifetime is not what he had unfortunately. A few days, however, he did.

And the best way to spend the next few hours of them was in a blissfully, hopefully dreamless deep sleep…

Author's note: because text formatting is hell, Ildavo's name is ILdavo with an L and not a double i. Felt the need to get this out there from the get go.

[not-goldy]

Do you think streaming to prove that BTS is better than the rest as a go to solution is maybe counterproductive sometimes? I was thinking about it but none of the members own the rights to their music. Not even yoongi who wrote and produced under Agust D instead of Suga. Big Hit owns all the rights. Idk I get revenge streaming to make our members do well, especially against another group or artist or company but the issue at hand right now is that there was a paid smear campaign put against yoongi.

This is definitely just a conspiracy theory but someone had to fund out that money. I just remember when Jungkook had that pregnancy rumour happen, Bighit did nothing and army chose to stream to show support, keeping him at number 1. Now I don’t know anything about legal matters so maybe thats how it seemed on the outside but behind closed doors, shit was getting done. But again a hate campaign was put against a BTS member and Hybe is moving silently and army are choosing to chart all of Agust Ds discography and idk. I want his music to chart and get the appreciation it deserves but then I also think about how this company who was silent gets to gain more revenue from his songs charting. So yeah feel free to correct me if this is all bullshit. You just seem smart and observant.

Absolutely 💯

Hence my love hate Relationship with Hybe and Bang PD and corporations in general. They make resources available to these boys but the boys are also a resource to them. The more money and connections they invest into the boys the more money they make and the bigger their network of connections get.

The inverse is also true. However I feel at this stage in their careers they've automated so much and the boys have amassed enough social currency that it doesn't take much investment for them to turn a profit. So sometimes hybe just can't be bothered. Profits are made when you invest little and sell at a higher price.

It's a cash grab economy my dear. Companies are compromising quality and legacy to make a buck. Hybe unfortunately is no different.

When it comes to protecting their artists I feel it comes with the boys giving up greater autonomy in exchange for it. The relationship between hybe and the boys are determined by the content of their contract which is something I keep hammering on.

Hybe is not a charity nor are they parents to the boys. What they do for the boys is not free and the boys have to accept it or even consent to it to begin with. The relationship between them and the boys is pure business and the contract between them sets the LIMITS abd extent of the company's reach into their lives.

Think of it like this,

If hybe is to become BTS's attack dog, what will the boys be willing to do for hybe in exchange for that?? Will they pay hybe more?? And sometimes it's not even what they are willing to do, it's about what they are willing to allow or give up in exchange for such a protection.

A person who has signed off much of their autonomy would of course enjoy more privileges and protection from the company- I'm talking flying first class, staying in 1st class hotels, top notch body guards, assistants, a legal team and hit man on speed dial.

But that means hybe gets to control what they eat who they talk to who they sleep with where there go who they go with where they stay how much sleep they get and all that will cost you more % of their earnings.

Would you go for such a deal if you were in their shoes?

Or would you choose and pick what hybe has to offer in exchange for less control over your life while retaining a bigger percentage of your revenue?? In which case, you book your own flights, pay for your own accommodation when you travel and Sue when you are being attacked personally etc???

Their business relationship with hybe is evolving. The more successful they become the less control they would want hybe to have over them and the less hybe can meddle or intervene in their affairs.

They've literally gone from hybe questioning them over the slightest relationship rumor to saying such matters are their private lives, to now allowing them to sue in their personal capacity🙃

The boys are becoming autonomous over time and I think that's a good thing even if there's a down side to it.

I think hybe will fight for their interests as long as they remain their artists but that would depend on the resources they have and whether or not there is a contractual obligation or interest that needs to be protected.

As long as hybe is interested in them it will protect its interests including them.

I like reading contractual agreements for fun and I would do anything to get my hands on hybe's contract with BTS as a group and as solos.

It's okay to feel some type of way about the company but for now understand they have a mutually beneficial relationship and arrangement with the boys. They profit when the boys are successful but only the boys will suffer if they do not succeed so keep supporting the boys. Focus on their career and trust that they are constantly fighting for their own interests in that dynamic too.

I'm dozing off🥲

[you-need-low-tar]

Today's thinking about Holmeses psyche. Or Holmeses in general. Very long.

One core of BBC Mycroft that's prominent in ways that I don't remember seeing in ACD Mycroft is that he is, in the end, a man of action. It's been a decade since I read ACD, so I could be wrong. But the idea is that BBC Mycroft *does* things. Makes decisions about execution, or implementation. Is accountable for them, whether they turn out right or wrong. 

He takes action when he thinks something is up. Sherlock has a new roommate? Kidnap and test him. Sherlock relapsed? Search his flat. Mycroft is inclined to find a solution, to have something done, about a situation, about a crisis. Less interested in the what and when and how and why. Less interested in 'truth' or 'facts'. Could be because he would already know. I think he just doesn't consider it as important as salvaging the remains and controlling the damage. Fixing things. 

Sherlock sees something wrong and tries to observe to figure out the truth. Like watching a lab environment system. He disturbs it, sometimes a lot, when he thinks it would get him an answer. His interference of this system doesn't change the facts, the information, the truth of the system, which is all he wants. Mycroft is completely different. Mycroft deliberately interferes to change the state of the system into something he prefers. I define this 'action'. 

Sherlock is about perception. He's the physicist, wondering how things work and what's the mechanism. Mycroft is about implementation. He's the engineer, building things (and sometimes building things wrong). Making sure that things happen. A structure is built, not just designed on paper. 

Now, just that Sherlock isn't interested in the implementation, doesn't mean he's bad at it, or that he doesn't do it at all. His cases are mostly finding the truth, the who-what-when-where-how-why. There are times when it's a mission to something, such as getting the Bruce-Partington Plans, or getting Irene Adler's phone, or getting Magnussen's copy of scandalous letters. That's taking action, as it interferes the system without really asking questions. He decides that action is worth taking. He converts it into truth-finding again, very cleverly, because the circumstances allow it. Getting things = knowing where they are = truth finding. 

And then there are other times. There is taking down Moriarty's network. There is setting a trap for CAM such that he would give files of interest to Sherlock (twice in HLV, actually). There is having a plan to get Culverton's confession (he already knows that Culverton kills). There is having a plan to save John Watson, as Mary puts it. 

The genre is extremely limited, not counting the Moriarty thing. The genre is what I call 'leading mistakes out of people'. It's manipulating people so that they do what he wants them to do, instead of what people want to do themselves. The Moriarty one is more... I don't know the English for it. Letting someone carry out their plans and beating them at their own game. Kinda. 

I leave you to draw conclusions on his ability of making and executing plans. And the Moriarty one is aided by Mycroft. I tend to think that the shift in style has a lot to do with Mycroft.

And I think that's why Sherlock didn't anticipate Mycroft coming up with the Flight of the Dead to the Coventry Conundrum. It's Mycroft's way of thinking, not his. Sherlock's habit, his course, in his line of work, is to stop, once he knows that there is a terrorist attack coming and all the relevant facts. Doesn't think too hard about how to solve it. In TEH, he informs other people of the who-where-when-how-what, for other people (presumably Mycroft and his people) to come up with a protocol to take down the whole thing safely. 

Between Bond Air and Moriarty, I conjecture that Mycroft's style is actually a lot more passive. I'm not sure, and there's not a lot of evidence. But Sherlock's plans always involve him taking action to lure action out of his opponent. Mycroft's is... waiting... for an opportunity, I guess. No idea what he'd have done with CAM, if it were up to him. 

It kind of makes Sherlock a better strategist and Mycroft a better tactician? Which is not what I expected? (Strategy is designing a course of action out of thin air when you know nothing but your goal, which is to win. Tactics is the course of action when there is an attack coming from the other side, often specifically to deal with that attack.) 

I always thought the opposite because Mycroft is a lot about control, and about action. I headcannon Mycroft (and not ACD Mycroft, mind) as some sort of workaholic because he seems the type to feels safer when he has something to do. But then I guess it makes sense that he has more to lose when he's being the active party, making first moves, in his line of work. 

[apas-95]

Bas van der Akker capped the needle and slowly twisted it off the syringe. He threw it into a hard-plastique sharps container, before screwing on another needle. Carefully, he packed away a vial of solution, and tossed out a glass ampoule of reactant. He grinned a stupid, toothy grin, and punged the needle into his leg.

Anna Hudáková observed disinterestedly, twisting her pen between her fingers. Her notepad was almost blank, and the tape recorder stuffed back into her jacket pocket. She never wrote about men, because she didn't understand them, or didn't want to. The biohacker in front of her was no exception.

"The body is a machine," he said. The syringe slowly deposited 0.3 millilitres of highly-controlled medicine into his musculature. "Everything in the world you see is a machine. But the body is special. Every other machine is superstructural, reflections of the metamaterial base."

He pulled the syringe out of his leg, dragging layers of tissue up along with it, pinching up skin around the needle. The needle was mass-produced, cheap, good quality. It came out with an impossibly-audible pop, and a bead of blood.

Bas's words broadcast now through the air and somewhere else. "The body is dialectical," he said. "Everything comes from a source, but the body can go back to that source." His voice was inside Anna's head like tinnitus, and he didn't notice when she stood up. "It can connect to it, and ride it back down, or modify it. Go to the source of a can of coke, and it connects to every other body at that source."

Anna went and retrieved the vial of solution, dropping it into her pocket and replacing it with an identical-looking one.

"Take the monopolis, for example," Bas thought. "What the communists learned from the fascists was how very useful it was to have purity of thought, purity of ideas. A pure idea is a powerful source, one that can connect hundreds of millions of bodies at once. If the weather in the noösphere is good, you can catch monopolitical thoughts from five thousand kilometers."

Anna pulled her chair close by his, and sat leaning her forehead on his temple. There was the barest mental recognition of this from Bas, like feedback on a microphone.

Slowly, Anna built up a feeling.

"How many genders are there?" she thought. Bas almost replied. "Three," she continued. "Though two are most prevalent. What is gender? Gender is a network protocol. It is a means by which we process interactions with others. What is your gender?"

Bas groaned silently.

"Drone," Anna thought. "On and on." The feedback increased. "What is my gender?"

"Worker," Bas reflected, thoughtless - energised from without, like an RFID chip.

Anna overwrote him. "Queen," she thought. "Signal. Command."

Bas was overheating, feverish. Anna pushed her forehead against his clammy skin, concentrating. Slowly, she built up a feeling.

"I am here," she thought. The human antenna beside her exploded into feedback and noise, the remnants of a signal lobe dissolving around her.

She stood, exhaled, and went for the door. She didn't want to be here when it came.