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[bhavishya-gautam]

How to Invest in Gold in Today's Market - Tumblr

Here's How To Invest In Gold

Are you currently wondering how to purchase gold? A lot of people want to invest, nonetheless they don't realize how to begin. The simple truth is there are many techniques for getting started with investing in gold. Here are some of the more common ways to purchase gold, as well as the positives and negatives for each and tips.

1. Physical Gold

Undoubtedly, buying physical gold is one of the most frequent ways people spend money on gold With regards to how to invest in gold, there are many things to understand about buying physical gold. Here's a few:

How To Accomplish It

Buying psychical gold is actually simple as it is the best way it sounds. You acquire gold items, like jewelry, coins, collectibles and just about other things. The purpose of most investors is usually to hold onto their psychical gold after which sell it into a gold dealer or other kind of buyer.

People have a number of options in relation to where they may buy physical gold. They are able to purchase them at the store or online. Whenever they find the gold, they will have to store it whilst keeping it until they are ready to market it for a higher price. When gold prices increase, then investors can consider selling their pieces.

The Benefits

First pro is that physical gold can be a tangible asset, and history indicates that gold tends to increase in value as time goes by. Very few investments are tangible and also have a high probability of going up in price, even though the economy isn't doing too well. If you want a great investment you can easily hold, see whilst keeping within your possession, then look no further than investing in physical gold.

Second pro is physical gold can not be hacked or erased. Nowadays, folks have countless assets that they can invest in and are generally held online. A gold piece with your hand doesn't need the internet or any electricity to operate or anything like this. It really is a foolproof investment in relation to protecting it from hackers.

Your third advantage of buying physical gold is that you simply don't have to be a professional. Perform quick research on the price tag on gold then research gold dealers. Then you can find the gold items you wish to keep and then sell them off when you're ready. It's as easy as that.

The Cons

First, buying psychical gold can be expensive. According to in which you purchase it from, you might want to pay commission fees. Even when you buy it coming from a private seller, you can bet how the gold will likely be expensive. If spending large amounts of cash upfront isn't for you, then you might like to think twice about buying gold, but generally gold is generally definitely worth the investment.

Second con is storing the gold. It doesn't matter what kind of gold pieces you get, if you purchased it directly, then you're in charge of storing it. You should be careful with how its stored, otherwise you may well be putting your gold in danger of getting stolen, damaged and even lost.

The past major con that the physical gold, when when stored by yourself, won't gain interest. You must secure the gold up until you decide it's a chance to sell it off. If you're looking to gain a little bit of interest in your gold items, then buying physical gold and storing it all by yourself is probably not the best option.

Tips

Buying physical gold is quite easy. It's also straightforward. Just be sure you need to do just as much research as is possible into gold dealers before deciding what type to do business with, and make sure you research current gold prices because you need to try to find good price on gold pieces. This can all could be seen as commonsense advice, but trust us once we say it comes in handy when the time concerns purchase gold.

2. Gold Futures

Gold futures are contracts which were standardized and they are generally traded on specific exchanges. Gold futures allow investors to get a unique number of gold (for example 100 Troy ounces) at a price that has already been predetermine. However, the delivery transpires in a future date.

How To Buy Gold Futures

The first thing you need to do is open a brokerage account. You will find brokers that specifically cope with futures trading, so take some time when picking one. Next, you can trade gold futures and just how it functions is you'll must deposit the absolute minimum money so that you can open a situation. When the price goes into the proper direction, then you'll stand to generate a profit, but you'll generate losses when it goes in an unacceptable direction.

The Benefits

First, you simply will not have to store anything. As previously mentioned, you have to find storage space when you purchase physical gold. With gold futures, this isn't a challenge.

Secondly, lower amounts come to mind with golds future. During the time of making a deal, you'll only be asked to pay a certain amount of cash. The others pays as soon as the agreement is signed.

Another great thing is there exists a good amount of liquidity. In addition to that, however, you can day trade gold futures. This means there's a prospective to produce and withdrawal profits regularly.

The Cons

There's only some cons. One includes that there is a major risk to trading anything, and gold is no different. Default risk can leave the most experienced traders inside the trenches.

Also, gold prices can greatly fluctuate daily. It is simple to gain money, but you can easily as easily lose it. Remember, the price of gold can be appealing at the time of signing the agreement, but they can drop as soon as delivery is made.

One third con is the volatile from the marketplace. One day the markets may be good and then the next it could crash. In no time, there may be a phase as soon as the markets don't move much whatsoever.

Tips

Regarding tips, it's all about opening a merchant account with a great broker. You can find dozens and many brokerage accounts, so compare as many as possible. Find one that will provide you with good advice on gold futures trading then one that doesn't charge a number of fees. The greater number of brokers you compare, the more effective.

Also, research gold prices for a couple of weeks before making an investment in gold via futures. If the prices appears to be stable, then go ahead. If there's an excessive amount of volatile from the markets for these couple of weeks, then consider waiting until everything grows more steady.

3. Gold ETFs

Gold ETFs are a fantastic replacement for gold futures. You won't own contracts, but rather you'll be buying shares of any ETF. In turn, you'll be open to gold, hence why they may be called gold ETFs.

How To Do It

You may get a brokerage account via a broker that permits you to trade gold ETFs. Then you'll be able to select the gold product you want to purchase. It's as elementary as that.

The Pros

One of the best reasons for gold ETFs could it be acts like a hedge against inflation. Normally, this is the truth with a lot of gold-based investments. Should you own gold ETFs, then they are utilized to safeguard your assets up against the inflation and fluctuation of currencies. Gold is definitely a safe investment and if you buy the proper ETFs, then you'll do your major favor.

Second, it is extremely an easy task to trade gold ETFs. You will be only required to invest in a single unit of gold, that is with regards to a gram of gold in weight. Furthermore, it is possible to trade ETFs via your ETF fund manager or even your stockbroker.

Third benefit is that you can take a look at stock exchanges and learn just how much gold is selling for. This can be done at any given time. If you believe prices are great, then go ahead and buy something, otherwise you can hold off until prices be a little more appealing.

Another benefit may be the tax side of things. The sole taxes you spend is either short or long term capital gains tax. Long term is gold that is held for any year or longer, while short-term is under a year.

The Cons

One con is the fact ETFs can be expensive. Actually, they could be more pricey than other styles of investing, but they are often more lucrative. It's your decision to make a decision whether or not purchasing gold ETFs makes it worth while. That is actually the only major con related to buying gold ETFs.

Tips

If you can, consider investing large sums of capital or enter into the habit of trading regularly. The reason being ETFs tend to be profitable than other types of gold-investing. Basically you can end up building a lot if you are prepared to trade regularly or invest large sums of money.

Another helpful tip is usually to never choose a fund manager or ETF product since the fees are alone. Do a bit of research to learn precisely what the performance has looked like over the last few years. If everything looks good, then choose that fund, otherwise keep seeking another fund manager.

4. Purchase Gold Mining Businesses

This can be the best way it may sound. It requires purchasing mining businesses that mine gold. You happen to be essentially buying stocks into gold mining companies.

How To Make It Happen

You can get a stockbroker or investing firm. They may take your funds and invest it into gold companies of your choice. A different way to get it done would be to join an internet stock trading platform and spend money on gold businesses that are listed on the platform. You purchase a particular amount of shares and then sell them when you've made a profit.

The Pros

First, buying shares into gold mining companies is straightforward and thus is selling them. All that you do is purchase the amount of shares you would like then sell them off when you're prepared to. Also, you may invest into several companies and increase your chances of making profits frequently.

Second, the retail price swings may be huge, but they do typically take awhile to take place. When you are patient, then you can definitely sell when these swings happen. Remember, in case a company is doing well and doing things right, then their stock could go up of course, if the price of gold is high too, then you might end up doing adequately.

Third, buying stocks is beginner-friendly. It doesn't take a great deal of knowledge to shell out, nevertheless it usually takes some research into gold mining companies. Just do a great deal of research into several companies and discover what kind of financial reputation they already have prior to invest into them.

The Cons

The risk is about the high side because gold mining companies carry plenty of risk, that may cause their stock to lower, whether or not the price of gold is high. Also, remember that gold miners put themselves in danger and stuff they generally do also can impact the cost of the company's stock. Investing in gold mining companies is as risky as buying almost every other type of stocks.

Tips

There's only one really specific tip to remember. You need to research various stock trading platforms and make sure the ones you utilize have gold mining companies' shares available. Better yet, research gold mining companies and create a set of them prior to search for stock trading platforms. Then you could find out if those platforms offer shares in those companies.

That is how to spend money on gold. As you can see, you can find advantages and disadvantages to every single form of investing method, so you may want to consider all the various methods to invest. Then you can certainly choose which technique to try.

If you know How to Invest in Gold in today's economy your are one step ahead. Learn more and get a free gold investment kit at: rawealth-partners.com/How-To-Invest-Precious-Meatles-2022

Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/10203484

[inkskinned]

nobody ever gets the mugshot of gluttony right. these days you think it has nothing to do with bodyweight. what a good trick: that gluttony could take a shape. no, there was never any fault in finishing a meal or in taking second helpings. it was always in taking from others that there was an issue - the oil baron's fingers steepled over dead bodies and stolen lands. gluttony - twin of greed, although most think greed and envy are the siblings - gluttony is pleased with the experience of gaining, is thrilled just-by-having. greed is the one that stays hungry, that has to move forever like a shark. gluttony likes it - "a glutton for punishment" is one who is seeking the harm, who loves the rush.

gluttony is a mother using her daughter's body for a diet testing ground, sharpening the bone angles. gluttony is saying why, well not! to the seventh and eighth mansion or yacht. it is not just wanting the six white horses, it is making sure that the horses came from your stables. it is not just bathing in milk - it is bathing in milk while others are starving.

oh, it's true that some sins still blaze in their bright floral prints. wrath in a white woman yelling at a person of color for even daring to be in her neighborhood. the red, incipient rage of a neck tightened at even the thought we would take the guns away. wrath has laurels, and she is good at her job, and works hard.

but sloth wasn't ever the sleepy morning of depression, the hours spent begging a clouded body to please move goddamn it; the protestant work ethic claiming even rest is somehow demonic. it was never chronic fatigue. sloth was subtle, a grey mist. she is watching you get bullied and she is deciding it is none of her business. she crosses the picket line because - what! it's just chicken, isn't it? she is closing her eyes and turning her head when the next anti-gay legislation passes. someone else will handle it. not the tense freeze of anxiety or a lack of preparation - she knows you're hurting and would rather you stay quiet about it. she tells other people i just don't see what the big deal is.

sloth is a father that doesn't do the dishes. sloth is your boyfriend's innocent shrug you're just better at household shit. sloth isn't the missed opportunity - it is the purposeful desire to just get-someone-else-to-do-it.

greed and envy are doing body shots in the back of a private jet. they are the way they always have been, but are lovers in the age of the internet. greed just finished union busting, is rolling a bitcoin over his knuckles, is about to start another MLM. envy is in a broadbrimmed hat, showing off her instagram life, grinning about how if you want it, work for it.

okay, it's true. you have a soft spot for lust, gathering dust in a corner. so tame in comparison to the others. but how funny lust is always painted as being a woman in tight clothes. you've met actually lustful women - the ones that purposefully climb into your partner's lap, the ones that say lesbians are gross but ask bisexual women into bed with their husbands. a lustful woman is not donned in lace and garters and red: that's how men think lust looks, painting their own sins into frame. this way, the sin displaces as fog and hovers above her: a woman in a dress is lust; what the man experiences is just the natural consequence.

here is the thing: lust is doing just fine, save your pity. lust is running more circles than any of them. lust is shutting down safe sexwork sites while also making teenagers in knee-high socks sex sensations. lust is CEO of an advertising network where women never pass 25 years old. all the bras lust makes are pretty to look at but, when worn, legitimately hurt. lust has a podcast, his fur coat looped around his shoulders, sells the idea that only certain people have value, that sex raises some and destroys others. lust is tilting his head and asking what did you expect when you dress like that? lust shuns you, sneers that everything you want is disgusting and taboo - right until he can figure out how to capitalize off of it. lust has the midas ability: everything he touches becomes an object.

people usually say wrath is the scary one. you agree with FMA here, though: the real dangerous one is pride, and the shit-eating grin. the white cloaks and the nationalism and the inability to apologize. it is every partner who threw a book at your head because you don't respect him. it is every mother who said my son doesn't deserve to have his life ruined over allegations. it is the teacher that fails you because you talked back.

you worry you have this one. you feel guilty when you need help but don't ask for it. prideful. ashamed when you complete something and feel good about it. too proud for your own good. but pride is not the reward of hard work or accomplishment: pride is a twitter feed. it is the thing that has to mask i didn't do anything with look at me.

pride is your father's raised hand, his raised voice. how he was never there when you needed him, but he is still "head of house." he ruins dinner and blames it on you: you're an embarrassment to this family. this is the glass you walk around, the cuts in your feet. how he says this isn't how i raised you and you have to bite back the retort: that's because you didn't actually fucking raise me.

[nichuuu]

Lemon.

Word count: 13k+

You decide that you don’t quite like Balls (get your head out of the gutter).

Music: odd. Yes, it’s a fancy mansion—5 floors, the works… But you don’t know how to feel about the sole pianist in the centre of the foyer, the one that’s playing some classical piece that has the people around you murmuring about his technique and sound (whatever the hell either of those meant).

People: you don’t know a good half of them. Scratch that—it’s a sea of strangers

Drinks: strong, way too fucking strong for your liking. The drinks are free of charge, and the bartender clearly didn’t shake this Pina Colada well, but you have to drink it if you want to even try and get into the mood of the party. Around you, men in posh suits and women in flamboyant dresses skirt each other, talk to each other with placid smiles—hoodwinking each other with their highfalutin laughs and smiles to establish connections that probably won’t matter in a couple of days. The only person you’ve talked to tonight is the bartender, and that was just to order your drink. 

This whole place stinks of capitalism, and you feel out of place in your cheaper suit and dress shoes. On your right, some guy is talking about how bitcoin and blockchain will make a grand return, some lady is gossiping about the latest Gucci handbag on your left. In front of you, a man and a woman are clearly flirting with each other, bashful grins on their faces as they hold their fancy drinks in their hands and talk about god knows what. You’re wondering if you should ask for a straw from the bartender just to dip your toes in social interaction.

Wonder why Cinderella was so hot on attending a Ball, thing seems pretty bland to me, you’re thinking, watching the tip of the ice that was shaped like an iceberg melt away and sink beneath the surface of your margarita. Some guy in a tux comes by, orders two glasses of Prosecco—one for him, one for the woman next to him. He’s talking loudly, disrupting your peace and quiet. Your solution: move seats.

From a distance—two chairs away from your original seat—you watch as he takes the two glasses from the hands of the bartender, hands one to the woman, then clinks his glass with hers. He’s preternaturally genteel, and you’d know because you recognised him as the guy that got slapped at the start of this whole thing because he grabbed the ass of someone’s wife. Impropriety, but it’s the behaviour of the newfangled rich. 

Now he’s bragging about his car. Nissan GTR fitted with this engine, this ventilation, blah, blah… Whatever it is he’s saying, the woman’s having none of it. You’re no psychologist, but you can tell that she wants to get out of a conversation; her smile is awfully sweet, but you can see that she’s silently importuring him to shut his trap—her eyes give it all away. You pity her, silently sending her your best wishes as the man grabs her by the arm and leads her back into the sea of people. Personally, you’d be screaming if you were in her shoes.

(Off to your left, just at the edge of your vision, you see your boss talking to a woman. She’s getting touchy, really touchy and really flirty; her hand’s on his thigh, fuck me eyes out to play and on full display—A trite tactic used by these types of women to get lucky with a rich man at these type of events. Luckily for her, your boss is quick to bite on to such bait. God bless them both.)

For the record: you’ve never really enjoyed Balls or anything of the ilk, because quite frankly speaking, you’d much rather burrow up in your bed at home and binge Kimini ni Todoke till you were giggling and squealing like a little schoolgirl. Maybe I’m still young, I’ll learn to like these types of events later on, you tell yourself, I’ll need connections at some point, maybe I should start—

A sickly sweet fragrance crawls up your nostrils, truncating all thought. Perfume, you’re quick to identify, and then you’re aware of the presence of someone on your right. Your grip on your glass grows tighter in the slightest; you’re praying—Please just be ordering a drink, please be ordering a drink.

Frankly, you don’t know why you’d ever think anyone would talk to you, an unimportant cog that just tagged along with his boss because he had nothing better to do. Irrational fears are really a funny thing.

Sharp, clear, resonant—three words that came to mind when you heard the voice of the person next to you, the voice that delivered the simplest of orders: Yamazaki. I want it neat. 

Your first thought is, Damn… Neat Whisky? Someone’s having a horrible night, as you turn your face away from her (if you couldn’t see her, she wouldn’t be able to see you, right?). And just as you’re wondering if she’s gonna take her drink and leave, your question is answered by the soft creak and even softer rustle of shifting fabric from your right. You bristle.

The glass makes a sound against the wood as it’s gently placed down on the table.

(Now would be an excellent time for a subtitle to come in, one that states in square brackets: Awkward silence.)

You can hear her swirling the liquid around in her glass. Fuck, now this is awkward… You’re thinking, and then you’re wondering if you should just get up and leave, absquatulate, skedaddle—any word that can convey the act of disappearing in an instant—right out of there. But as you start to slide your butt off the chair, that voice rings out once more.

“Not much of a talker, are you?”

She doesn’t know how her simple sentence has caged you in the most challenging position (to you at least). Now you’re sliding your ass back into the bar stool and you turn and face her—

(Now that you’re looking at her, your second thought about her comes in: God, she’s beautiful. Dark brown hair that falls just past her shoulders like velvet curtains, soft yet somehow piercing eyes, a smile that makes you feel fuzzy all over—probably one of the most attractive women you’ll ever meet. She’s the woman from earlier, the woman that you saw smiling and nodding placidly to that guy who got her the Prosecco. She must’ve found a way to slip away, and she has your full respect for that.)

—and you find that you’re drumming your nails against the base of your glass.

“Shy, huh?” she’s throwing out a guess, watching as the Whisky in her glass slowly swirls to a stop inside the chilled glass. “It’s been a while since I met a shy man. You’re a breath of fresh air.”

You shift in the stool, and your first instinct is to ask her if you two had met before. It’s only after that last syllable leaves your mouth that you realise how stupid of a question it is. You don’t know her, and judging by the fact that she hasn’t called you by your name: she doesn’t know you either. You let her decide whether to oust you as a fool as she scans you up and down.

(Update on your boss and that woman: She’s kissing him now, full on making out. It’s an unsettling sight to behold, and you attribute your queasiness to the fact that they’ve somehow found they’re way behind the woman you're talking to. Your boss doesn't see you; you choose not to see him. God bless them both.)

“Well… Considering that you don’t look the least bit familiar,” she sets the glass down, “and that you haven’t been introduced to me like some product by a crusty, old man… I think it’s safe to say that we’re.”

Now her eyes are on your drink. What are you drinking this fine night? She’s asking, using her chin to gesture towards your Pina Colada. You tell her exactly what it is, and she cringes slightly. They say Pineapple doesn’t belong on pizza, I say it doesn’t belong fucking anywhere. Oust it as a fruit! she’s telling you, making sure to add a little more emphasis on the word “oust” as she couches her firm belief, something you find rather hilarious considering that it’s your first meeting with her. She sips the Whisky, grimaces a bit, then sets the glass back down to say, we skipped past a lot of formalities, didn’t we?

And here comes the part of talking to strangers that you’re the most comfortable with—Introductions. You think that it is safe to assume that just about anyone would find saying hello and telling someone your occupation much easier than holding up a conversation, what more with a beautiful woman like her. You give her your name, tell her what you do for a living, the usual stuff. She listens, the gleam in her eyes that comes when you’re done talking ever so enigmatic and cryptic. 

“Lawyer huh?” She’s playing with her glass again, “considering were we are right now, I really shouldn’t be this surprised… Yet I am. Little shy for a guy dealing clients on the daily, no?”

Somehow, by the grace of some supernatural force (you call it alcohol), you crack your first joke of the night—I know. The most I ever talked is in court—and you’re relieved that she’s kind enough to humour you (or maybe she really does find it funny. You’ll never know), and gives you an elegant chortle, one that makes your hair stand at their ends as your third thought about her goes through your mind: even her laugh is attractive. Is there anything wrong with this woman? 

And when she tells you her name, you realise why she seems to be exuding this inexplicable aura; Minatozaki Sana, pleasure to meet you, she introduces herself with a generous amount of pizzaz. You’re scanning her up and down at this point, and only now do you take in the expensive dress that dons her slender frame, the same dress that’s accompanied by a glimmering necklace and earrings, 3 rings on her middle, index and ring finger respectively.

“You’re…” you begin.

“The host’s daughter? Yes.”

Now you’re at a loss for words. Well uh… It’s an honour to meet you, is what you plan on saying, but it comes out as a simple, more blunt manner: Oh damn. Sana’s giggling to herself, swirling her Whisky as she watches you struggle to find things to say to her.

“I take it that you don’t come around here often?” she asks. When you raise an eyebrow, she explains how her father hosts a Ball like this every other month to try and find her a “suitor”. Apparently, 27 years old is “too old”  to still be single, so my Dad just gets a bunch of men together and parades me around, she’s carping. The glimmering chandeliers, the array of drinks and food, the vanity of all these people; the dazzling marble floor, the glass sculptures, the embroidered tablecloths; this event, in all its glory and prestige, is all about her. 

Christ, you’re thinking to yourself, money really gets you to places, huh? 

Now she’s explaining how some of the people here are frequent visitors. Mothers and their sons, fathers and their sons, young business men, old business men, middle aged businessman; whoever can afford to come to this lavish Ball—all of them frequent this mansion like moths to a flame, all looking for a chance to ingratiate with the Minatozakis so that maybe, just maybe, they get a chance to get Sana’s hand in marriage. It’s a glorified yet obsolete form of Tinder really.

(Your boss is nowhere in sight now, and you’re pretty sure that the two of them have gone off somewhere to get it on. Maybe this event isn’t just about Sana, it’s about finding a rich person that can spoil you for the rest of your life too. God bless everyone here.)

“So what brings a man like yourself here this fine night?” She seems oddly interested in you (and also very hot on using this fine night as well apparently). You give her the truth that carries your watered down emotions in your tone—My boss asked me to tag along. Apparently all attendees were to bring a male plus one.

Sana chuckles, but it’s one of bitterness.

“So Dad’s reverted to these tactics huh?” you hear her whisper before taking an alarming large gulp of Whisky. She swallows, then sighs, “wonder what he’ll do next… Maybe an arranged marriage?”

Past the frustration and utter disappointment, there’s amusement in her voice. It tells you: if I could, I’d kill my Dad. It’s more of an inference from your end than a message that you’re sure that she’s trying to imply. You always had a bad habit of reading between the lines—probably picked it up from your job.

Sana downs the rest of the Whisky in a flash, wincing as the alcohol burns her throat. She scratches her nose, then turns to you and asks, “say, you don’t look like you want to be here, and neither do I.”

Behind you, you can hear the voice of a man approaching. He’s talking to someone—my daughter should like you very much, you seem like a man that suits her taste—and Sana bristles. Her father, you deduce, noting the way that the woman before you is searching around for an exit. Then you blink, and in that split second, she grabs your hand.

“Let’s get out of here.”

Just like that, you’re running through a crowd of people, spewing a million-and-one apologies as you jostle your way through the crowd, in tow behind a woman you've known for a grand total of 5 minutes. 

A very unlikely start to a romance really.

*

Now the gears in your head are whirring, your stomach’s churning—there’s no other way to describe how you feel when Sana’s looking at you like that from across the table: small smile, a slight gleam behind those eyes, hand under her chin and fingers tapping against her cheek… She’s got you in perdition just with a look. You’re a guy of relatively taciturn nature, and the last time you went on a date was in university. That date went horribly, and now you’re wondering if this one was gonna go up in flames as well. Your brain urges you to say something to her, but your mouth seems to be sewn shut. 

On the other hand, Sana’s poised as ever. “What’s wrong?” she’s cocking her head and pouting slightly, “nervous?”

You're not ashamed to admit that you indeed are, and that you’ve never really gone out on dates in a long time. Sana seems tickled by this—It’s been a while since I’ve seen a shy man. I like it, she tells you—and assures you that she won’t bite. In fact, she’s glad that you’re quiet and not rambling off about some business venture. She tells you, I don’t recall the last time I’ve been with a guy like you, though I’d appreciate it if you assist me in starting some conversation, and you’re slightly ashamed of your reticence. 

There’s a gleam in her eyes when you start asking her some questions on her personal life, and she finds it congenial to gesticulate in a moderate manner as she answers your questions. Her outgoing nature leaves you flummoxed, and there’s barely enough space in your brain to remember everything she tells you about herself. Born in Osaka, likes yoghurt smoothies, likes to take walks in the park, likes this, likes that… You vaguely remember her telling you this on the night that the two of you escaped that event.

(To jog your own memory: She took you to the garden, where the two of you spent the rest of the night strolling amongst shrubs and other greenery that thrived in Spring. The Pina Colada in your system allowed you to hold a conversation, one that lasted long enough for her to take a liking to you. At the end of it all, she gets your number, you get her’s, and a date’s been settled in some french restaurant she patronises.)

“Now, I don’t expect you to remember all of this,” she’s watching the wine leave streaks against the glass, “but if you do, I believe you're entitled to some extra points.” 

“Points?” you’re keen on inquiring, “we’re keeping a scoreboard?”

Sana simply smiles. For asking that question, minus 2 from you, is her answer—not a very good one if you were to be blunt. You can’t suppress a chuckle as you take a sip from your own wine.

Unwittingly, Sana has eased you into her presence. It suddenly feels like you’ve known her forever (if forever meant 2 weeks that is).

A smooth start to a relationship if you do say so yourself.

*

“Sana, there’s people out there.”

“I know.”

“They might hear us.”

“I know.”

“We could get caught.”

“We won’t.”

It’s the confidence in her voice that irks you really. The lack of hesitance combined with the sheer lack of shame towards the fact that anyone outside the changing room in this damn Prada store could easily raise a phone over the door and start recording. It’s not that she’s not cognizant of this, but more of the fact that she doesn’t give two shits if someone captures a video of her blowing you in this dressing room. Shameless, aplomb, obstinate, are the three words that come to mind when dealing with Sana at the given moment, but there’s no energy in you to convey this to her, not when she wraps her lips around your cock. The outfits that she chose remain untouched behind her, fabrics still in light while the person that chose them remains active on her knees. 

(Almost a year. Almost a year the two of you have been dating. You thought you’d learned all there is to know about her, yet she’s hitting you with new facts and surprises every day, left, right, and centre. There are probably many more things that you have yet to figure out, but they’ll all come to light in due time.)

Really, it’s on you for not exercising due diligence upon entering the store; you should’ve known better from the moment you saw that look in her eyes while she was looking at a dress. But there’s nothing you can do about it now, not when she’s already enraptured you with that damn gaze—the one that exudes want and lust, the one that’s the leaven to your morality in her eyes. She knows that she’s got you wrapped around her finger when your hand rests itself atop of her head as she slowly bobs her head over your crotch. She’s taking her time despite the situation that she’s placed the both of you in. 

“This has always been on my bucket list,” she’s letting her hand run along your shaft, spreading her saliva with each stroke of her palm. Her nails, freshly done just over 2 hours ago, glisten under the light—partially because of her spit and partly because of the gloss. “Everything about this is just so… Eroctic, isn’t it?”

Christ, she’s really into this thrill-seeking thing, you note as you choke out a reply: Not particularly, but whatever floats your boat Sana (obviously, it doesn’t come out as smooth as it should. No one would be able to get out a full sentence with phonics properly strung together if they too were getting blown in a changing room). She’s got a glint in her eye, but it’s covered by your shaft as she slides her tongue down your cock, nose brushing against the base of your cock, just behind her tongue. She knows what she’s doing, she’s given you head before; she’s building up the suspense and waiting for you to beg for more. You really don’t want to indulge her, you really don’t, but there’s not much you can do when she starts placing kisses on your shaft—base to tip in a fervently slow fashion. How far is she gonna go with this, you can’t help but wonder, but you quickly have your question answered in the next second or so.

“Unenthusiastic?” she quips, “minus four”.

She wraps her lips around you and pushes her head forward, and you almost let the people in the store know that something’s going down in here.

You figure that the feeling of her lips wrapped around your shaft will never get old, not when it sends electricity up your spine and makes your hand ball into a fist in her hair. Her eyes seem to glint as you let out a sharp gasp. Yes, you could be caught by an employee at any second. Yes, you could very well be caught on camera by a customer at any second. There were a lot of things to consider when assessing the dangers of the circumstances that Sana has put the both of you in. Yet, none of them take anything away from the pleasure she’s bringing you, not as she starts to bob her head in beat to the metronome in her head. There’s no point in trying to figure out her pace. 

“Jesus… Fuck… Sana I…” Your voice is—somehow—hushed as you struggle to convey how weak she’s making you, but it’s not like you need to anyway—she knows exactly what she’s doing, and she’s loving every second of the havoc she’s wreacking upon your senses. The slight tug in the corner of her lips is the suggestion of a smirk, and the muffled noise that rises from her throat is the implication of a giggle. 

There's a knock on the door and you bristle; Sana slows down, but she doesn’t stop. Past the door, the voice of the staff that led you to this very room asks if everything is alright in there, and you’re praying that her eyes aren’t set on the floor. Sana locks eyes with you, then darts her eyes to the door to tell you—Answer it goddamnit. Of course, she doesn’t make it easy for you as you open your mouth, applying light suction to your tip as you find the strength to say: Yep, just give us a few more minutes please, making you choke on that last word and sending alarms blaring in your head. Thankfully, the store assistant is kind enough to leave you with a take your time sir, and the shadow of her feet disappear from the gap beneath the door. It’s then that Sana pops your glistening cock out of her mouth.

“A few more minutes, huh?” She’s got drool on the corner of her lips as she rises to her feet. “Better make this quick then. You gotta keep your word as a lawyer, don’t you?”

Her wit is certainly better than most of your colleagues.

(There are customers outside now, you can hear them talking to the store assistant. They sound vaguely familiar… Maybe you heard them at the restaurant? Or maybe they’re colleagues… No, that can’t be it, at least you hope so).

Now for the record: you’ve seen Sana naked on multiple occasions, be it voluntarily or not. The shower, the bedroom, even a public shower at the pool… You could name a lot more places where she’d shamelessly flaunted her nude body before you off the top of your head. “A body to die for” is a fitting expression for Sana; you’ve always wondered if you’d find her on the top of the Google image search if you were to look up “dream bodies”, and you figure that you can probably get her there if you could somehow take pictures with your eyes as she undresses before you. She’s more methodical than anything, straying away from her usual teasing nature for the sake of being quick (that’s what you infer from her behaviour, but really, she could just be extremely horny and desperate. There’s never a solid answer to Sana’s behaviour). Mini skirt, then top, then bra; she’s going through the motions that she’d usually drag out just to get a reaction out of you preternaturally quickly.

Why is she getting naked in a changing room? You have no clue. Your best guess: she’s doing it for the thrill of it. The thought of getting caught completely nude with her boyfriend speared inside of her must be sending lethal doses of adrenaline through her veins. A pretty solid guess if you do say so yourself. No time for anymore guesses anyway—she’s already brought your hand up to her right breast, and she’s closing her eyes to enjoy the feel of your fingers closing around the semi-firm flesh. Her top lip’s furling behind her front teeth, she’s letting her other hand rest on your arm. She’s telling you where she wants it—did you cum in my ass yesterday? Or was it the day before? Ah, whatever… Give me a fucking creampie—in this soft, low voice that sends a velvet chill down your spine. Then she's kissing you softly, sweetly, nibbling on your top lip as usual, all while pushing you to the corner of the room where your feet aren't visible to those outside, flushing your back against the wall. It’s an uncomfortable fit, but that quickly changes when she grips the middle of your shaft and lines you tip up with her slit. The hand on her tit is guided to that slim waist, your other hand quickly finding its place on that symmetrical, slim figure. 

“I don’t care if I cum or not,” she drawls, trailing a finger down your chest, “I just want your load inside me, right here, right now. Just focus on that, nothing else.”

(Half request, half demand—give her an award for being so damn ambiguous. Subtitles that could translate what she truly means would be really, really handy right now. Alas, such a system doesn’t exist.)

Describing how Sana’s pussy felt would be doing her injustice. The feeling was ineffable. From entering her to hilting yourself inside of her, there was never a second of that process where you had an easy time breathing or thinking. You’ve never been so reliant on your senses to keep you grounded in reality, nor have you ever been so glad that Sana’s nails are digging into your shoulder. This position—facing each other, standing and fucking against the wall of (all places) a changing room—is a stranger to the both of you, but the sheer tightness of her cunt working hand in hand with the intimacy of it all has you welcoming it with open arms.

Your hips are moving on their own, taking liberties without signals from your fried brain as you start thrusting into Sana. For long, wordless minutes, you're thrusting into Sana in a mindless, slow fashion, relishing the  feel of her skin in your palms, the look on her face, the soft moans that are slowly slipping from her ever so slightly opened lips. Then your ability to think slowly returns, and you’re thinking like a damn neanderthal—tight, wet, hot, so fucking good—as your grip on her waist tightens. Your shaft glistens in the light of the changing room, slick with her sweet juices as it slips in and out of her slick, spearing into her with depth, making her legs weak. Sana cups your cheek, lifts your head, and it’s now that you see how her eyes have been completely glazed over with lust and want. Her face, her figure down to the sounds she’s making; everything about her, about this, is the phantasmagoria of a wet dream.

If you were being completely true to yourself right now: You couldn’t care less if you got caught. 

And as if on cue, the voices approach as soon as you finish that train of thought. 

“Do you provide altercation services?” It’s the voice of a man, closely followed by that of the store assistant: Of course sir. After you try on the suit, you can note how you’d like it to be altered to your liking. 

A shadow of feet appears at the base of the door. Sana cups a hand over her mouth as the door rattles—the customer trying to open it. You stop your movements, breath caught in your throat as the store assistant tells him to use the other fitting room. Sana’s breath is loud in your ears as a second set of footsteps approach, followed by a female voice that asks, “Is my husband in there?” 

Yes ma’am, is the assistant’s reply. Of course, this is hardly the end of it.

Now, as the woman engages the store assistant in conversation right outside your door, Sana lets the hand on her mouth drop. She flushes herself against you as the store assistant answers, and she whispers, “Keep going”.

Endlessly seeking thrill. Classic Sana.

The logical part of you warns you against doing as she says. Sadly, there’s not much room for logic in your head in the given circumstances, not when your balls-deep inside your girlfriend in a changing room. There’s barely enough room for dilemma to occur; Sana’s the sole occupant of your mind, rent-free, free-hold, and really: she’s the only thing that matters right now. 

She almost, just almost, lets out a cry when you spear yourself back inside her. You didn't expect to start so soon, and neither did she. However, catching her by surprise is a novelty to you, and you relish in that brief rush of smugness before you restart your movements. Her mouth is frozen in a silent scream, but her eyes say all that she wants to: smug asshole, I’ll kill you later. You reply by letting your index and forefinger slip into her still-open mouth. 

“Personally, I enjoy the Italian selection more…” The store assistant’s voice is barely audible to you over Sana’s small, muffled moans that manage to skirt your fingers and Sana’s closed lips, and as the lady starts talking about trench coats, Sana coats your fingers with a fresh layer of saliva, turning your fingers slick and slimy with her tongue as she looks you dead in the eye, as if challenging you: Is this the best you can do? Is this the riskiest you can be?

Every question from her deserves an answer, and your’s is to remove your saliva-slicked fingers out of her mouth, draw a circle with her spit just above her collarbone, then whisper right into her ear: I’m gonna mark you right there. The involuntary gasp that she lets out tugs the corner of your lips up into a perverse smile. Slowly your lips drift down to the glistening spot, and you wait just a moment to build up that sweet-sweet suspense. It’s a split second, but it’s a second too much for her to bear—the way her body tenses when you finally make contact is the clearest indication you will ever receive. And when you start sucking, God does she almost drive you over the edge: she tightens, she gasps, she starts twitching; she loves it, every second your lips stay locked around that sweet spot of skin is bliss to her.

You can hear the door to the other fitting room unlock, and you hear the man’s heavy footsteps as he walks out, no doubt in that suit he had earlier. The compulsory question comes: how do I look?

There’s a brief moment of silence, and you’re almost fearful of the fact that maybe, just maybe, their ears are picking up on the ragged breathing and slightly audible squelching coming from the other fitting room. All consternation dissipates when the woman starts to comment on how she looks, but Sana seems to have an answer to his question as well: So good. So fucking good. Harder, let me feel all of you, fuck me harder. Oh fuck, you’re so fucking deep. 

You look dashing honey. The pitch of the woman’s reply harmonises with Sana’s soft whine as your lips leave her skin, the same patch where you’ve left your purple artwork on. I think we can afford to alter the pants—

Sana crushes your lips against hers, hot breath filling your mouth as you feel her lift her leg. You hold the back of her knee (like the gentleman you are), bring it to your side, hold it there. She bites your lower lip, hard enough for her to pull and tug it as you start losing yourself in her: her scent, her breath, her skin—all of it’s so deliciously addicting. You can’t get enough.

Then she’s going straight to moaning into your mouth, letting those muffled cries permeate in the small space and hopefully not outside the fitting room. She’s wet, she’s tight, she’s everything you need right now. You want, so badly, to pull her apart, ruin her till you can’t put her back together, get her begging at the top of her lungs for you to fuck her harder and harder. 

And you’re almost on the verge of calling her a slut. There’s no need for that though, she knows what she’s made of herself.

—so that they’re a little shorter. I think we could also try—

Sana’s figured out the best way to moan: straight into your ear. She’s not letting up with them, and she’s giving you one hell of an array of sounds. There’s the common ah, the not so common, oh, and the very common shit, fuck, fuck me and so good. Her phonics are so loosely strung together that they’re just a jumbled mess, and you're perfectly ensconced with that; you love hearing those lazy, sloppy cries, and they only seem even more melodic at this volume, at this moment. Fuck, record them and play them as white noise as you sleep.

—changing the colours of the buttons? Ooh! Maybe we could even change the stitching around—

She tilts her head back, and you’re peppering her neck with kisses. She loves it, you know she loves it; all this attention, all this adrenaline, all this carnality she’s invoking—all of it for her. Each time you grunt, she knows that she’s the damn reason for it. Every time your fingers dig into her thigh a little more, she knows it’s because of her. Every kiss on her neck, every inch of her pussy you fill with your rock-hard meat, all of it’s for her. She isn’t vain, nor is she a pick me girl, but she sure as hell knows how to make you treat her like she’s the only girl in the fucking world, and you’re more than happy to give her what she wants.

Because it’s always like this with Sana: if she wants it badly enough, she’ll formulate a stratagem to get it, nip her cravings in the bud before they turn into desires that she can’t control. Mind you, she’s not dissolute; she’s just “riding the highs of life” as she calls it. Pretty bullshit and circumlocutory, but you always let her off the hook.

—the pocket area? That’s my two cents. What do you think darling?

Another moment of silence follows, and Sana seizes the opportunity to nibble on your earlobe. Her leg’s sweaty, slowly slipping from your grasp and trembling from the pleasure that’s giving her voice this lilt when she says: Carry me. Fuck me. Cum in me. Please. Pleasure, coursing through your veins, makes you comply in an almost servile manner. It’s precipitous, even fatuous to pull such a stunt in a fitting room of all places, but when your hands are supporting her by her ass and her legs lock around your waist, there’s no turning back.

And as the man starts going off on his own preferences, Sana’s wrapping her arms around your neck, letting you get a look at those bouncing breasts as you reach new depths inside of those slick, warm walls. If she could cry out, she would, but those damn customers outside are placing her in a box here, and it’s clearly frustrating her. If you were at your place, her hands gripping your sheets and her juices messing up your quilt, she could moan, mewl, cry and cuss however loud she wanted. In a way, it was funny to watch her hold back, but at the same time: you so badly want to make her scream, undo her right here and now and make her a mess in your arms, but you’ll settle for what you have right now. What the two of you have created is controlled chaos, and should it be released past that damn changing room door, God knows what will happen.

Now it’s the store assistant’s turn to speak, and she’s giving them a rundown of the pricings. Outside, they’re talking about the possibility of a discount; inside, Sana’s talking about how deep you feel inside of. Outside, the man’s trying to guilt-trip the store assistant by saying how exorbitant the price is; inside, Sana’s exclaiming and pleading in a hushed voice—Own me. For the love of God, fucking o-own me!—as each thrust you make into her pussy sends her further and further down this rabbit hole of pleasure. It takes guts to fuck in a fitting room, but it takes the guts of Minatozaki Sana to be this needy while fucking in a fitting room. The risks of being caught are high, the risk of being heard even higher, but neither of those affect her ardour. At a controlled volume, she’s pleading for you to fuck her harder, faster, unravel every single bit of her being while she tries to keep herself together. It’s one hell of a show, and it’s one hell of an experience too. 

(The sight of her perfect body flushed against yours as she’s fucked in the air, the smell of her sickly sweet perfume, the feeling of that divinely tight pussy wrapped snugly around your shaft like a damned glove, the way those sonorously soft moans filter into your ears. Add these together with the fact that the people outside could hear you at any second, and you’ve got one hell of a recipe for a voyeurist’s wet dream. You’re no voyeurist, but everything about this moment is making you feel like one.

Right now, this is everything to Sana. Having you this close to her, feeling that cool Prada air conditioning against her bare body, listening to you grunt and sigh as you piston yourself in and out of that slick, wet slit… All her needs are being fulfilled, all of her senses heightened and primed, aware of every movement you make inside of her pussy. Sometimes, you feel so good and oh fuck, or maybe even oh god isn’t enough to convey how she feels, so she just opts to let out this strained, strangled gasps that tells you everything you need to know—a maelstrom of emotions and expressions compressed and compacted into one simple “hngh” is enough for you to know that you’re doing something right.)

“You like this Sana?” you find yourself whispering. “You like being fucked like a damn slut with people just outside, don’t you? You like everything about this, don’t you?”

Right now, she doesn’t have that capacity to reply. Of course, you know this, which makes you feel all the more smug as you watch, watching as she slips into a state of complete, utter bliss: her mouth hangs open, her eyes are unfocused, she’s barely holding on to you. The purple mark that your lips have left on her neck sears itself into your sight, and it’s joined by the breathtaking view of her breasts loosely bouncing each time you drive yourself into her. Loose strands of hair are flying, neither of you have any hands free to fix them. Her legs are quaking around your waist, neither of you want to stop just so that she can be back down on the floor. Her eyes are closing, you can feel her heartbeat in her pussy, she’s begging, pleading, fucking imploring you to keep going. 

Christ. You want her to moan as loud as she can for you.

It’s hard not to get turned on by the sight of it, and it’s even harder to keep yourself controlled under the rapidly tightening grip of her cunt. Her breaths are shallow, her head is almost completely limp. She may not seem to be aware of it, but you sure as hell are more than cognizant of the fact that the both of you are about to hit that peak that you’ve been chasing for the past God-knows-how-many minutes.

“Sana.” Uttering her name is all that’s needed to bring her back to the real world. When you have her attention, you give her the sentence that she’s been waiting to hear for so damn long: I’m gonna fucking fill you, and It’s like the air gets heavier when she softly whispers, pleads for you to fulfill her new desire; cum with me. I need it so bad. 

Controlled orgasm would take strength to pull off, and you silently pray that you have that strength as you send one final thrust between her shaking legs. Your cock twitches, spasms and the first rope of your warm seed that’s sent into her waiting walls is enough to send her over the edge. She bites down on your shoulder, quick enough to muffle the cry that escapes her throat. The tightening of her walls seem to coordinate with each spasm of your cock, and they sync up, working together to get every last drop of cum out of you and into her. She lets a soft moan escape her lips with each spurt, as though welcoming it, as though each one were something she long wanted and needed. You let out a single, soft grunt, as though thanking her, as though every twitch of her walls that sends a shock down your cock is a treasure to be relished.

So the scarf that she brought in to try is no longer just an ornament like the rest of the outfits. Even after adjusting her outfit, the fabric still can't seem to cover that hickey you left on her collarbone. The simple solution: Sana waits there, you buy the scarf, hand it to her, she puts it on and the both of you walk out of the store like nothing happened, like the both of you really were in there to try on some clothes, then leave. 

It’s unsuspecting, it’s smooth. The store assistant wishes you a good day, and Sana smiles and waves to her, looking exactly like she did when she entered, plus a scarf. The only difference in Sana’s entrance and exit from the Prada store is the load between her legs.

But that’s a secret for the two of you.

*

“Hey. Could I talk to you about something?”

In your two years of dating Sana, never have you heard her this nervous in your life. The fact that your client isn’t responding to you a day before his trial plagues you no more, and your laptop is shut before she can close the door. 

Your posture—arms crossed atop the desk and back straight—is all she needs. The message is implicit: I’m here, all ears, and she smiles softly as she walks over to the bed. The frame creaks a little as she settles down.

“My uh… My Dad is organising another one of those damned Balls again.” The way she intonates her words tells you that the Ball is the least of her concerns at the moment. “It’s gonna be at the usual time.. Usual place… Not like we can move it anyway.”

You offer her a chuckle to assuage her, diffuse the tension a little. She manages a half-forced giggle at her own joke. Is this a transitional opening? Or is this legitimately the subject of her conversation? you’re thinking, and as you sip from your cup, that subtle shift in her posture is shifting the atmosphere of the room. 

She’s scared, but of what?

“I was wondering,” she drums her nails against her knees, “could I… Introduce you to him tomorrow? M-My Dad I mean.”

And now you suddenly understand why she’s on edge. She’s not scared for herself; she’s scared for you. The head of the Minatozaki clan, Sana’s father—you heard much about him, partly because of the stories that Sana tells you and partly from the things you heard through the grapevine at work. In your firm, there’s a whole box dedicated to storing suits that have been opened by him on the intern’s table (it’s a hilariously off-putting thing to say out loud), and from what you’ve heard: there’s another two in the storage room. Personally, you’ve assisted a colleague in one of his lawsuits, and the emails you billed weren’t pretty. You’d be throwing out a fib if you ever couched that you never once thought: It’s a pretty bad first impression of the man, could he maybe… You know… Stop suing people? Please? but you’re not going to let a mere few boxes and one night of reading through emails determine your perception of Sana’s father. 

And hopefully, he won’t judge a book by its cover too.

“I have a trial tomorrow Sha,” you remind her, but it’s not like you actually expected her to remember this; you whispered it to her while cuddling on the couch a solid week ago. “I don’t know when I’ll end. It might be a little tight for me.”

It's undeniable that she sighs in relief. The blush that follows the breath is a clear indication. She’s glad, too glad. You can't help but ask: What’s up? Think I’ll flub everything when I meet him?

Sana does that thing where she wants to answer, but doesn’t know how to: her mouth opens, closes, opens again—longer this time, then closes again. It isn’t an easy thing to talk about; what your father will think of your partner is never not a touchy matter. All touchy matters should be discussed in comfort (Sana knows that you strongly believe in this, that’s why she’s situated herself on the bed), and you join her on the mattress. 

“WIll he feel that I’m not enough for you?” You’re prodding, all while you gently reach for her hand and grasp it in your own. It’s cold, really cold. You’ll warm it up with your palms, keep them there while she replies, “it’s not that… I know that you’re more than enough for me, that’s what matters to him… At least I think so.”

She’s staring down at her hand, the one that’s slowly heating up via the warmth of your hand. Then what’s making you so worried? you’re asking. She folds her bottom in, past her front teeth. You rub her knuckle with your thumb.

“Yea I… I don’t know what’s making me so worried either,” she finally muses. “Guess I’m just… New to this practice. Never had to do it before...”

Because all the men that have tried to win you over have never lasted for more than a week, you complete in your head, smiling as she lays her other hand over yours. It’s cold too—that won’t do.

And as you set another hand atop hers, she’s asking you for a kiss. Luckily for her, obliging her wants is your specialty, and your lips are quickly travelling that small gap between the two of you. Connection is made, and you physically feel her relax. You know. You know that she belides a truth that she’s not ready to divulge. It’s in her kiss, it’s in her hands, and that’s fine with you. You can infer that it’s not something that’s going to be detrimental to your relationship, and whenever she’s ready to speak about it, you’ll always be available.

Now the kiss is done, she’s asking for fried chicken. You counter-ask if the kiss was to soften you up so that she could ask for her Famichiki. Of course, you get a classic Sana reply: a “maybe”, followed by that mischievous grin. You rise from the bed to grab your coat. 

You're glad that the Konbini is just next to your apartment. Sana’s glad that she gets to be close to you as you walk through the snowy street.

“You know,” she’s whispering, “I really won’t mind if you propose to me one of these days.”

You laugh it off, kiss her on her forehead. 

In your head: you note to start looking for a nice ring.

*

Money can get you to places, but it can also get you a private soundproof karaoke room in a club. Three and a half years of dating—that’s all you need to know: you can bet your left kidney that Sana is taking full advantage of that room.

The bottle of Whisky that she opened to get the room is hardly the main event; Sana, slowly slipping out of that tight black dress she’s wearing, foreground to the default music that’s on the TV, has your unwavering attention. The smile on her face could've been mistaken for a sweet one if it weren’t for the fact that she’s getting naked, and the lack of a bra really doesn’t help with her case either.

“There isn’t a time limit to the use of this room, right?” You know the answer to that is no, the lady at the counter told you so. The question is more of a gauge, an instrument that’s helping you assess her plans for the night.

“If you’re trying to know how long we’ll be here for,” she slings her dress onto the couch next to you, and in her stockings and panties, saunters over with a sultry sway in her hips, “my answer is a secret.”

“I have work tomorrow, Sana.”

“Too bad. Call in sick.”

She picks up the glass of Whisky, raises it to her lips. When she drinks, she lets some of that amber liquid trickle out past her lips, down past her chin and onto her tits. In the light, her wet skin glistens and shimmers, and you once again find yourself in absolute awe with the woman before you. And as she straddles you, glass in hand, the way she uses her fingers to tilt your face up to the light tells you that she’s in control. She takes a sip of the amber liquid, swallows it, then brings it to your lips.

“Be a good boy,” she’s tipping the glass as she speaks, a strong way to convey that there’s no room for disobedience, “say ‘ahh’ for me baby.” 

The glass is cold against your lips, the liquor even colder on your tongue as it flows into your mouth at a manageable rate. When she stops pouring, you take the cue, and you swallow all of it in one gulp. The burn in your throat is oddly rewarding, probably because Sana’s smiling down at you, stroking your hair and telling you how obedient you are as you swallow. Then she makes you open your mouth again, pours another portion down the hatch. 

How does it taste, she’s asking, cupping your right cheek as she swirls the glass. You give her a short honest review of it: It’s good. The answer pleases her, and she sets down the glass in her hand to pick up the bottle from the table next to you. 

“Yamazaki, 12 year old single Malt.” She’s letting you see the bottle under the light, though you have to admit that her tits right next to the bottle are a horrible distraction. “My personal favourite.”

She unscrews the cap and takes a swig straight from the bottle, swallows it without even flinching. She’s always been able to hold her alcohol well, and you know for a fact that she can probably outdrink 5 of your colleagues and maybe, just maybe, your boss too. But you’ll never have a fair gauge on how well she can drink in comparison to your peers; she only drinks around you. 

Your face is back in her hand, and she’s got some more things to say—Drink it neat, on the rocks, add it to another drink, it tastes great no matter what—as she starts to lightly grind herself over your throbbing shaft in your pants. But you know what the best way to drink it is, she asks you. She’s not looking for an answer from you, just finding a way to transition from the Whisky to whatever it is she has in mind—you can tell because she leans down to capture lips right after she throws out the inquiry, kissing you deeply, her tongue playing aggressively on your lips before searching your mouth for its counterpart. The smell of Whisky is so damn strong on her breath, and the only thing hotter than the burning sensation in your throat is the fact that she’s using one hand to play with herself, the bottle of Whisky in the other. You can hear it slosh next to your ear as she raises it. 

And as she breaks the kiss, the thin strand of saliva connecting the two of you doesn’t stop her from providing the answer to her question—it tastes the best when you drink it right off my body—as she straightens herself. The next second, still playing with herself, she’s bringing the bottle to her lips, tipping it just before it touches those red-tinted lips to let the golden liquid flow down her chest and breasts. There's no time to admire; you reach out and catch the rapidly falling liquid, your tongue pressed tightly to her skin to lap up as much of the bitter liquor as you could. Her skin glistens with the Whisky on it. It looks like gold in the snow. She smells like lavender and lust.

Your tongue, saturated with Whisky, finds and captures her left nipple. You close your lips around it, suckling deeply from her chest, enjoying the taste of her body and the liquor that made it spicy and bitter. Sana gasps and moans as you have your way with her chest, fondling her small mounds, suckling both of her taut nipples—roughly, hungrily. You could say that she’s wasted some perfectly good Whisky, but you say that she’s added complex flavours to an already exquisite meal. The blend of alcohol and Sana’s skin is not something you never knew you needed, but now you do. The novelty of it, the sheer lust she’s emanating, all of it makes her tits taste better than ever, and you find yourself leaving marks on her cleavage, the right side of her left breast, the left side of her right breast; every centimetre of skin that can be reached is marked and tasted—your attempt at dipping your toes in a little control in this karaoke room that is Sana’s domain.

Maybe you’re a little over-indulgent in her, maybe you’re just unaware, but you certainly can’t feel her slipping your tie off your neck. By the time you’re aware of the sudden feeling of freedom at your throat, she’s already wrapping your wrists, securing them together with an intricate knot. You know damn well that even the boy scouts couldn’t untie this one, even if they sent their best member. The theory is only enforced when Sana asks you to try pulling your wrists apart, and it feels like they’ve been superglued together. Satisfied, she feeds you some more Whisky off her body, then it’s time for her fun.

Palm flat against your chest, eyes flaring, wicked smile; Sana pushed you back against the couch with graceful authority—something that only she is capable of. Then it’s onto your shirt, and he’s unbuttoning it with practised dexterity: unfastening, pulling—motions so fast that she has your reverence for mastering the art. She takes a moment, parts the fabric covering your chest and runs a fingernail down the centre of your torso. The nail—painted black with little Sakura flowers adorning it—stops at your belt. It isn’t hesitance that keeps her finger there; it’s the innate cheekiness that makes her linger there a little longer, that makes her smile softly as the other hand joins in and starts undoing the clasp of your belt. Not a word is uttered as she pulls apart your belt, then goes straight for the buckle of your belt. 

Then it’s back to kissing. Sloppy, passionate kissing. Sloppy, passionate kissing as she runs her fingers through your hair. The Whisky on both of your breaths mingle. Admittedly, you’re feeling a little floaty, engendering a pleasant tingle on your skin as she starts placing kisses on your cheek, then on your jaw. Next thing you know, she’s sucking hard at the nape of your neck, marking you with those lovely lips, as if she’s placing a wax seal on you, declaring: you are mine and mine alone. And when she successfully sears the shape of her lips onto your skin, she traces the slick outline with a finger, whispers softly, You have no idea how much I want to own you right now. 

The excitement is palpable, the tension even more so. She’s whispering all sorts of things to you—most of them entailing what she’s about to do with your cock—all while she starts to slip your briefs off of your legs. Your cock springs out of your pants, slaps against her ass and twitches on the rotund flesh. The smile grows wider, devilish dimples appear. And for the record: no, she’s not gonna blow you. She’s gonna make herself cum before anything else happens, and she’s going to make you feel things you’ve never felt before. 

She slides off you, gets back up on her feet. With her back turned to you, she bends forward at the waist, shaking her ass while she uses her thumbs to hook onto the waistband of her panties. She looks over her shoulder, eyes locked on yours. With a little hop, she pushes the fabric down and off her hips, kicking it to the side. She looks over her shoulder, eyes locked on yours. With a little hop, she pushes the fabric down and off her hips, kicking it to the side. Her pussy glistens in the light, flushed pink and folds tantalising as ever puffy and swollen with excitement.

She bends her knees, getting down on all fours.

She wiggles her ass at you, looking back at you over her shoulder.

“Bet you wished,” she gets on her back, spreads her legs to get the spotlight on her slit, “that you could absolutely own me like this right now, don’t you?”

She’s so cocksure. It’s driving you crazy. You swallow, your voice barely audible as you utter her name. She crawls to you, sits up, her face in front of yours, so close, so hot. Her hand touches the back of your head, her voice barely a whisper as she grips the base of your cock—but you can’t, and it’s so damn frustrating, isn’t it?—and rubs your tip between her dripping folds, lathering her juices all over your head and smiling all the way through. 

And when you least expect it, she turns and sinks down on your cock.

You throw your head back, groan, the sound of her wetness as she takes your cock into her pussy loud and clear over the music. Your head falls forward again, watching her sink further and further, taking more and more of your cock inside her with every passing moment as she lets a long, drawn-out moan float through the air. When her crotch meets yours and you are fully embedded inside her, a soft, wordless cry of pleasure that leaves open lips. You meet it with a sigh of your own, somehow tearing open your own shut eyes to watch the expression on her beautiful face as you fill her. 

Christ, fuck and god—just some of the words that you want to cry out as she starts to slowly grind herself against you. The ride she’s about to take is one that’s of perverse nature; it’s not going to be a slow, pleasant ride. Naturally, her habit of jumping straight into things leaves her unprepared for what she’s about to experience, so now she has to slowly slowly adjust to your size, like striking the flint over and over next to the fireplace as you hope to get a flame going. Usually, this would be a time where you’d caress that beautiful body, run your hands over that unblemished white skin and pepper kisses all over the places that she loves to be kissed. But she’s not in the mood for that, not when she has this room and you at her disposal. 

Then the fire ignites, and it is merciless, a force of nature—untameable, unrelenting. In your bonds you are unable to resist. You never would’ve in the first place. She begins to move, her pussy tight and slick around your cock. She rides you like she was made to do this, like a pro. She rides you fiercely, roughly, taking you in and out of her tight wet heat, caring little for your comfort or much of anything aside from stuffing herself over and over with thick, hard meat. Throughout it all she is digging into your thigh, crying out like her life depends on it as she goes up, down, up, down—a lewd seat on a merry go round.

Yes, yes, yes—she throws her head back, auburn hair flying like streamers in the wind as she has her way with you—o-oh fuck I need this! I need this so fucking bad! The rhythmic, repetitive motion, her unbridled desire to be filled, it sends you reeling. The pressure on your leg is forgotten, the slight discomfort in your arms pushed out of the way. You can do nothing but watch her ride you. You can do nothing but marvel at how good you feel inside her, how the tightness of her pussy massages your shaft, how the way she takes you so completely into her folds, how you stretch her and make her quiver and quake.

A part of you wishes the mirror were visible from your current position, so that you could watch as Sana impales herself over and over on your cock. You want to watch the expression of pleasure wrangle her cute features, want to watch her full, round breasts bounce up and down, want to watch every muscle of her long, perfectly shaped legs work to throw her body again and again against your cock. But you’ll have to content yourself with the almost equally alluring view of her sweaty back (not that it was a particularly difficult position to enjoy. How could you call it “bad” with the view of her round, full ass as she slams it down against your crotch?). It’s not like you can change anything about this anyway. No—the only thing you can do is sit back, watch, and savour how her ass jiggles as it crashes against your crotch.

Oh fuck, oh yes! I’m so fucking full! I’m so stuffed with this cock!

You lose yourself to the sound of her voice, the feeling of her pussy as it swallows up your cock, the sight of her back arching and her hands shaking. As much as you try, you find yourself unable to move, as though your own pleasure has been drained out of your body, and you are just an observer. You watch as she pushes herself down further on your cock, impaling herself with every thrust of her hips, her voice growing louder and louder as she gets into that dangerous rhythm, the rhythm that makes you think she’s on Acid. Well-formed breasts bounce, you see them past her slender figure. Her shapely, luscious ass ripples. Long legs work overtime, cooperating with the stamina of the girl who is using them to drive herself over the edge like it’s her be-all and end-all. It’s exhilarating. It’s thrilling. 

It’s so fucking hot. 

Oh god. You’re stretching me out so good. This cock feels so damn good!

Two things are getting you at the moment: (1) The sweat glistening that’s building up on her back. (2) The fact that she’s pushing your thighs apart to get more of you inside her. The former sight is a breathtaking process really: beady moisture on that well built back, pooling at all the best places and making her skin glow as some of it slowly trickles down her spine. The latter’s no grain of sand either mind you, maybe even hotter than Sana’s sweaty back if you dare say. Freshly done nails sit just outside the insides of your thighs, the palms that they’re connected to pushing down against the flesh beneath them. They’re indenting the muscles of your thighs, it’s uncomfortable, but only for a second at a time. 

I don’t wanna stop. I don’t wanna fucking stop!

In your restraints, your hands grasp at the flesh that’s so close yet so far, the skin that’s rippling and slapping against yours. Her ass taunts you, tempts you, teases you. It’s so frustrating yet so erotic; you aren’t sure if you should welcome this mix of emotions or reject it before it folds its wings and nestles itself in your chest. The mix of desire and vexation, exasperation and ecstasy—any two emotions that shouldn’t go together are mixing, blending, forming these bubbles in your chest that you can’t explain. 

One woman; innumerable sensations.

You need more. More of everything. More of her.

You wish you could touch her.

You wish you could fuck her.

But all you can do is watch, watch as she starts going down harder, crying out even louder. 

Her body, so flawlessly feminine, is in deadly motion, working you over from the inside like you’ve never experienced. The air is filled with the wet, lewd sounds of her pussy sucking you in your hips slapping against her ass, her moans and groans, her curses that seem to go on perennially, blending in perfectly with that shitty synth in the background.

And you’re just along for the ride.

You have no idea… How good this is.. Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

And she wants you to see it, she wants you to watch her—it is exactly that kind of attention that she is basking in. So you watch. You watch her, the way she looks back at you, the way her eyes flare as she takes you in, the way her hands claw at your leg. The way she's moaning with that lilt back in her voice. Everything about this spectacle seems like it’s been scripted for some porno, and her body is certainly making you feel like you’re in one. The only grasp on reality that this situation offers is… Well, nothing. And it’s not that there really isn’t anything for you to root yourself in this real world, rather you’re choosing not to make that mental effort to do so; every little corner of your mind is being bled with whatever colour the image of Sana bouncing on your cock is. There’s no room for reality, and it's addicting, enthralling.

Fuck. You can't get enough of her, and you probably never will.

So deep! So fucking… Oh my god!

Your breath is ragged, and it takes every bit of control you have left in you to not cum right then and there. It takes every ounce of focus not to simply give in to her, not to simply melt into the couch, not to lose your mind to the sensation of her tight, wet slick as it swallows you in, pushes you out; fucking itself over and over and over again on your rock hard shaft. You don't know how much longer you can hold out for, and as if she can tell, Sana starts to move faster, her movements getting even more aggressive. The slaps of her ass against your crotch are louder now, and the wet smacking sound of her pussy's getting faster and faster. Her fingers are digging into your leg, her moans more frequent and more desperate. You can feel her tightening around you, the way her walls clamp down, the way her legs are trembling, the way her voice is going up in pitch. 

(It’s the moments of privacy that really get her going; the moments where she can scream and cuss and moan like there’s no tomorrow are everything to her. 

Yes, she likes fucking in public spaces for the thrill of it, but she likes it better when she can hold you freely as you fill her, not having to care for the fact that the way her body’s positioned engenders any discomfort or risk of being heard.

Yes, she likes it when there’s the chance that someone can walk in on the two of you, but the prospect of being able to own your cock, uninterrupted and unheard, thrills her like nothing else in the damn world.

Yes, she likes to see if she can hold in her cries while you’re rearranging her insides in a bathroom stall, but she prefers it much more when she can slam herself down on your cock—be loud and be proud of the fact that she loves every inch of meat that fills her till she can barely breathe. 

Bottom line: she likes chasing that thrill of being caught, but she loves those moments where she’s alone with you in private even more. Now is one of those times, and God… She’s barely herself anymore.

She is a storm of pure, unfiltered lust. And you must say: it’s fucking sublime.)

Then the game changing sentence comes from her, and it's beautiful. 

"I'm fucking cumming!"

The words ring out, clear and loud. And she doesn't stop; she keeps riding you, taking you into her wet hole and milking your cock, using you to bring herself off. It's not until the final second that she slows down, her back arching as she lets out the most satisfying scream that you have ever heard in your entire life. It is all that you can do to watch as she slumps forward, breaths ragged and body twitching as you hold yourself back. It takes everything—every fibre, every cell and every last bit of will—to not cum in her right there and then. And when the final spasm has passed and the shuddering has subsided, when Sana has collapsed against you, your cock still buried inside her, she turns to you.

There are no words spoken, just a mutual understanding of what comes next. She slips off the couch, takes your slick shaft in her hands. A few pumps are delivered, and they’re considerate and slow; she’s good at building tension.

“You’ve already marked my tits. Might as well cum on them.” She’s still got some cheekiness left in her, and that smile is really doing everything for you. 

“Fuck, Sana, I—” “Do it. Paint me.”

You feel the semen gather in your balls before coursing up your shaft and erupting from its tip, landing in thick, wet, warm ropes upon Sana’s creamy skin. Your tip is directed between her cleavage, and the first spurt of cum shoots itself between those wonderful mounds. It’s quickly followed by a second rope, and the third lands on her upper chest. With grace, she manages to direct your spurting cock by the base so the fourth and fifth ropes cover the front of her tits, then the rest don’t matter anymore.

The last ropes of thick, warm semen land upon her face, staining her soft, blushing features with creamy white cum. Some of it lands on her cheeks, on her forehead and onto her open mouth and the thirsty tongue within it. When you finally open eyes you hadn’t known had closed, the picture of Minatozaki Sana, face and chest painted with your warm, thick cum, is one you never want to forget. And as she scoops up your seed with her fingers, she’s got a thing or two to say.

“Excellent load,” she whispers, watching as the cum slithers down her palm. “Plus two to you.”

Just two? Is your reply of false bewilderment. Sana chortles. 

Maybe if you can give me a load up my ass, I’ll consider adding another three points.

*

Now the ring’s oddly heavy in your pocket. 

Sana’s father seems more imposing than he should for a man his size, and looking at the Yamazaki bottle on the desk, you can tell that Sana gets her liking for Whisky from him. 

“I’ve never met you in my life,” he begins, “and now you come here like a friend, asking for my daughter’s hand in marriage?”

Sana’s head is bowed. In the corner of the office she sits, hands clasped over one another as she listens in silently. No amount of trials or oral submissions could ever prepare you for this tension.

“Mr Minatozaki… I understand that all of this is sudden,” you begin, but you’re interrupted by a raised hand.

“You know boy… You sure do talk like you know everything about the situation.” His voice is nowhere near threatening as he speaks, and it’s absolutely terrifying. “For a lawyer, you sure do sound quite the fool. Guess I shouldn’t have been expecting much considering your background.”

And it’s that very statement that has you on tenterhooks. You’ve never met him, never even seen his face, yet he knows your occupation which you never even touched on, and from the sound of it, knows what went down in your family. Sana’s head snaps up, her eyes wide as she watches her father produce a file from under his desk. 

“It’s not the suddenness,” the air quotations he uses hold more weight than they really should, “that doesn’t sit well with me dear boy. No, no… It’s more than that.”

The broad leather chair in his office grows constricting. As he rises from his seat, the foam that holds your butt up seems to depress. And as he begins—if you sauntered in here as just a lawyer, I would’ve let you take my daughter in a heartbeat!—his explanation of what’s grinding his gears, you start feeling uneasy. For context on the severity of this feeling: the last time you felt like this was when you first met his daughter.

But you’re not just a lawyer—he’s opening the file in his hands, flipping through its contents—you’re a disgrace to this very world. You shouldn’t even be in this damn house right now. 

Into the file his hand reaches, and out from it: two mugshots. You bristle; Sana gasps (and it’s not that she didn’t know, rather because she was shocked that her father knew.)

So it’s the next sentence that seals your fate. Frankly, you kind of expected it, but it still doesn’t take away from the sheer bedlam that goes down in your head when Mr Minatozaki waves the mugshots of your parents before your face and shrieks at the top of his lungs. 

This isn’t the way you pictured this going. 

Honestly, you never pictured this happening at all.

 “Do you seriously think for a second that I’d let the son of two druggies—two disgraceful, repugnant, filthy, druggies—marry my daughter?”

*

It’s hard to forget what she told you over the phone after your talk with her father (if you can even call it that): we’ll figure this out. I promise you, we’ll figure this out. 

Money can get you a nice fancy Ball, some nice Whisky and a private Karaoke room. Naturally, it can grant you a means to keep the son of two convicted drug abusers that hung themselves in their cells away from your daughter. 

So not even 12 hours after that fate-sealing conversation did you get a phone call from your boss. Next thing you know, you’re uprooted from your workplace in Osaka, transferred to the branch in Nagoya; Sana’s number mysteriously changes itself, none of your letters ever reach her. 

It’s over the payphone, months after all of this, that Sana finally reaches you, and she’s ugly crying over the phone. 

We can fix this, we’ll figure something out. We’ll figure this out. I promise you, we’ll figure this out. 

In a way, she ended up being right. 

And in your suit, you smile as you watch her walk down the aisle. She’s beautiful as ever, and you feel like that white veil over her face is doing her the biggest disservice ever. The little boy carrying the wedding rings seems a little confused, but it only adds to his adorable aura as he stumbles behind Sana. The flower petals are being scattered, the crowd’s on their feet. They’re clapping; you’re crying. Have you mentioned that she looks beautiful?

Oh? You have? Odd…

But just in case it slips your mind, you tell her how beautiful she is in your head, all while she walks right past you and continues to the stage. It feels like the ring boy’s acting stupid to taunt you for being the fool here. 

In a way, she ended up being right. If “We” referred to Sana’s father and that man on the stage, “We” did indeed end up figuring things out. The invite broke you, and this wedding is breaking you even more. You know that this invite wasn’t sent by Sana—she isn’t cruel. This has the fingerprints of her father all over it: the seat close to the aisle, your wristband to authorise your access to the venue holding the same serial code as your father’s prisoner ID… All of it is him. 

But there’s not much you can do about it is there? You chose to come, you chose this for yourself. There was the option to not come, to tear the invite up and go cry in your apartment in Nagoya, but you bought the Shinkansen ticket here, didn’t you? You walked through the doors of this damn place and took your seat, didn’t you?

And the Yamazaki doesn’t taste as good as it should, and the Spring air is sharper than it should be at the afterparty. They’re over there, congratulating the newly weds and wishing them all the best; you’re over here, sipping on your neat Whisky behind a bush as the music roars on.

It really shouldn’t be a question on how she finds you; she knows you too well to know where you’d go at a place like this. And in her wedding gown, she stands where she is, this look of a god-knows-what mix of emotions simmering on her face. You rub your nose with a thumb, sip on the bitter Whisky as your remedy. No words are spoken, not even a “hey” or “how have you been”—both of you know that there’s no use in starting a conversation here. It’ll go sob, fast, and this isn’t the place for it.

There will never be a place for it.

So why not substitute words with actions? 

So in her bare feet, she hikes up her gown, runs over to you, lunges to close those years of separation between you two to hug you like she used to. The Whisky is knocked out of your hands; you’re knocked off your feet. And in the grass, she buries her head into your shoulder and weeps. 

You always thought that only death would make you cry, but now as you hold her for what may very well be the last time, you realise: you're not as tough as you think.

Like a Lemon, the realisation that comes is bitter, and it has you bawling.

Cause maybe in a world that wasn’t so cruel, you could’ve been the one on that stage.

(Then the two of you could be in love, happier than ever.)

[austinsastrology8991]

Uranus and why your life is a ShiT ShoW > URANUS IN Yer HOUSe <

Uranus in the FIrst - You are the most unpredictable little fuck-head that everyone loves. They always change > there clothes, there direction in life > their hair colour. they thrive in change unless you try to change them, they are the ones changing and dont you dare change them, thats all they have left ;( Uranus in the Second. - Crazy self esteem issues. these people think they are the greatest then the worst person, also same applies to their income because they dont think they are worth much, until they invest into bitcoin and think they will be the next warren buffet. honestly the only thing stable about you is the perception of your value changing. But they love change, something to look forward to i guess Uranus in the Third your brain and communication skills are kinda fucky you know that dont you. you always know how to say something shocking, and extremely good at changing the subject of a conversation, like you dont have to say much, but what you do say just made everyone go huh what the fuck you say? its amusing tho we appreciate you Uranus in the F4urth - Emotionally avoidant, dependent, and attached personalities. They cant make their mind up on how they feel, so they experiemnt with every feeling to see if they vibe with that. mum was probably very unpredictable, and they wanna be like her. they just trying their best to forgive her <3 Uranus in the Fifth - Okay this one is the genius. This one people actually think your onto something when your showing off because you break free of every social convention, and archetype, but in the most perfect way. everyone believes your special, and you can change the vibe of a room like dat Uranus in the Sixth - what a fkn mess your life is. I had this one friend who would have 10 different drinks in his room and he would drink each one sparingly (they were all warm too). he had some serious health issues, and lets not get into his mental health okay. but yall have crazy lives and you make it that way Uranus in the Seventh - Im not a player i just fuck a lot. they choose their partners based off how interesting they are, if you can satiate their curiosity you got em. but if your boring or not worth figuring out yeah g-bye. also they just come off strange so everyone is extremely curious. they get projected on a lot but they dont mind its a good way to find out something interesting lol Uranus in the Eighth - Freaks who will do anything.... and im not just talking about sex, if they want something they'll find any way to get it. masters of attainment, even if its probably not healthy for them, they don't care if they want it they get it. then the object of their fixation changes as soon as they do get it. they are like obsessed with 'progress' but its hard to call it that sometimes Uranus in the Ninth - Clever minds who are always skipping segments of a speech, or a video to find the juicy parts. They have very quick minds that are so easily bored, but if you talk to them, they'll never not have something interesting to talk about. also when change does occur its a LOt Uranus in the Tenth - why are yalll like this. just baffling people like they know how to make an entrance and when everyone starts loooking at them, they decide to make fun of everyone by doing something a lil bit too shocking, almosst making fun of you for looking at them. gets off on shocking ya Uranus in the Eleventh - They wanna change the world, but not in a way that is practical. until it is. They have a million friends because they have a knack for understanding people, but when you ask what they want or what scares them. it just makes you rethink why your even friends with them in the first place. 12 - your crazy. and its endearing but everyone is this close to calling the cops on you or locking you up in a psyche ward. maybe tone down your retardation. we all got something going on but you take it to a whole new level.

[seungkw1]

halloween night — ksy

⛧ pairing: kwon soonyoung x fem!reader ⛧ theme: strangers to lovers, nonidol!au ⛧ word count: ~2.5k ⛧ warnings: smut, swearing, praise kink, oral (m. & f. receiving), softdom!hoshi, petnames (f. receiving - baby, pretty girl, etc.), unprotected penetration (stay safe kids), tiny bit of fluff at the end

your halloween night is going pretty lousy — that is, until you meet a handsome, tiger-print-wearing stranger at a party

♡ moodboard by @myhimbomingi ♡

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“You look fine. Stop worrying, you’re gonna have a good time tonight!”

You stop fiddling with your skirt and look up at your best friend with a sigh. ”I can’t believe you talked me into wearing this stupid thing.”

Halloween is, in your humble opinion, the greatest holiday ever invented. You always love putting together your costume, something unique and creative each year – which is why you feel like a fucking idiot standing here dressed in a cliché sexy nurse costume. But, you needed to get your shitty ex off your mind – it had been two weeks since you found out he was cheating on you – and what better distraction than alcohol. Hell, you might even find someone to make out with if you drink enough. Not your usual M.O., but fuck it.

Now that you’re here though, you’re starting to have second thoughts. Your best friend Mina is bubbly and sociable, so she thrives naturally in a party environment – you, not so much. To make matters worse she’s the only person you’ll know here, so you’re now realizing how awkward this whole thing is going to be. Wishing now that you had worn something more comfortable, you slap on a fake smile as you step inside. Here goes nothing, I guess.

—

Mina spent about 15 minutes introducing you to everybody as you did your best to engage in polite small talk, but she eventually got absorbed in chatting with some old friends while you inadvertently joined a very boring conversation with some cryptocurrency bros where some guy named Chad or something was going on about bitcoin. You pretended to be interested in whatever Brad was saying, but you kept zoning out. Stifling a sigh, you went to make your escape. 

“I’m gonna use the restroom, I'll be right…”

Nobody even looked at you. Brent had moved on talking about stocks or some shit. You rolled your eyes as you walked away. Assholes.

The other room was too crowded for your liking, and so was the kitchen. Spotting the back door, you quickly made your way outside before anyone else could talk to you. 

—

The cool October breeze hits you as you practically burst through the door and out onto the patio. You know you’ll probably get chilled before too long, especially in this dumb miniskirt, but the crisp air feels delightful. The relative quietness is a relief too. Taking a few moments to breathe, you start to relax, but soon enough your mind drifts back to your ex against your will. It’s not like you miss him – you’re definitely over that jerk – but you’re still extremely pissed off about the whole thing. You feel tears starting to form as the anger wells up inside you – you hate that you cry when you get mad, which only makes you even more upset. 

“God fucking dammit,” you mutter under your breath as you go to wipe your tears away before you start full-on crying. You know bottling up your emotions isn’t ideal, but neither is having a breakdown at some stranger’s house.

You can have your breakdown later, you tell yourself firmly. Just not right now. Don’t make a fool of yourself, just hold on out for a couple more hours and then-

“Are you okay?”

You nearly jump out of your skin at the voice coming from behind you. Quickly turning around, you find yourself face-to-face with a ridiculously handsome stranger. The man is so striking it takes you a few seconds to process the horribly tacky, bright orange tiger-print shirt he’s wearing.

“Jesus Christ, you scared me,” you say as you collect yourself.

“I- sorry, I didn’t mean to…” he says, his sentence trailing off.

You both stand there for a moment in silence. You find yourself trying not to blush at how good-looking he is, but you notice him noticing your low-cut top but trying to act like he didn’t notice it. Yeah, that is not helping…

The man clears his throat. “You just seemed like you were crying or something and uh… sorry, I guess that’s not really any of my business…” he apologizes, turning red. “Sorry,” he repeats, “I’ll leave you be…”

“No no it’s okay!!” you blurt out, perhaps a bit too fast. “I mean, you can stay, I don't mind.”

“Are you sure? If you want to be alon-”

“No, I don’t,” you interrupt before he goes to turn away again. “I mean, I did originally, but uh…”

What are you doing?? You literally don’t even know this man.

You ignore the voice inside your head. Fuck it, didn’t I say I wanted to find a hot stranger to make out with tonight? Here’s one right in front of me.

You introduce yourself and stick out your hand. His face turns into a soft smile as he takes your hand in his – he shakes it firmly, and you try not to think about how strong he feels. He locks eyes with you and holds on to your hand for a few moments too long. Your heart seems to skip a beat. 

“Soonyoung,” he replies. Letting out an even bigger grin, he finally lets go of your hand. “Nice to meet you.”

—

You don’t even know how long you two have been sitting on the patio couch talking. All you know is that not only is Soonyoung incredibly handsome, he’s also funny, charming, and easy to talk to – and, he’s clearly very attracted to you. Usually it takes a number of drinks before you get flirty, but the tension between you two is too strong to resist. It’s taking all of your willpower not to drop everything and kiss him – and the way he keeps stealing quick glances of your lips tells you the feeling is reciprocated. 

Despite how flustered you are, it is pretty chilly out, and eventually you start to shiver. Soonyoung notices and gives you a concerned look.

“Oh shit, we should probably get you inside.”

You glance back toward the chatter of the house party regretfully, not wanting to go back in and be amongst everybody else once again. But you are getting cold.

You look back to Soonyoung and you both sit there in silence for a few seconds. A sly smile creeps back onto his face, and he hesitates for a moment before suggesting, “Or… we could get out of here.”

You can’t help but grin back at him.

—

And so you find yourself on Soonyoung’s couch, straddling his lap, making out with him – the cheesy horror movie you had put on in the background long forgotten. Time seems to be at a standstill as you press your lips into his – softly at first, but more intensely with each kiss. His muscular arms tighten around your waist, pulling your body even closer to his, and a small moan escapes you as he pushes his hips into your core. 

Soonyoung stops kissing you momentarily so he can look at you. “You’re so fucking pretty, you know that?”

His low and raspy voice sends a jolt through your stomach. Your skirt has risen up over your hips, leaving your underwear as the only barrier between your pussy and the growing bulge in his jeans – you push yourself into him even further and this time he lets out a moan as you feel his cock twitch against your aching cunt.

Grabbing onto your waist he pushes you over onto the couch and rolls over on top of you. He kisses you again, his hand cradling your face, his body weight pressing down on you as you feel the blood rushing through your veins. He kisses you for a few moments more before he jumps up, pulling you along as he leads you into his bedroom. 

He stops right before the bed and pauses to look at you, his hand delicately tracing your neckline. “You know, I really like this costume, but I think I’d like it more off of you.”

You let out a laugh as you roll your eyes at him. You begin to unbutton his shirt as you reply, “Well I don’t really like it at all, so you can definitely help me get rid of it.”

He grins back at you. “You look incredible, but I will happily oblige.”

Grabbing the hem of your top, Soonyoung pulls it up over your head and tosses it behind him. He pulls his shirt off too, disregarding the rest of the buttons, and you have to keep your jaw from hitting the floor – to say he was toned would’ve been an understatement. 

He grabs you by the arms to pull you in for another kiss, and you place your hands on his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin. You slowly run one hand down the defined curvatures of his abs until you reach the waist of his pants. Your lips still pressed against his, you begin to undo his belt and unbutton his pants.

Getting down as you undo the zipper, you pull down the band of his underwear and his cock springs free. You run your tongue up his length, your mouth stopping to take just the tip in between your lips as you taste his juices before taking him in your mouth. Soonyoung lets out a groan, and you begin to slide his cock down your throat – slowly at first, but as you begin to pick up the pace he places his hand on the back of your head, making sure you take his entire length with each motion.

“Look at me,” he commands.

You look up at him, his cock halfway in your mouth still, your lips red and your eyes teary from choking on him.

“That’s my pretty girl,” he murmurs, his voice gruff and low.

He thrusts into your mouth a few more times before he pulls your head back up, his cock glistening with your spit. 

“Stand up for me.”

You quickly stand up – it’s impossible to ignore how wet you are at this point.

Soonyoung takes you by the hips and gently pushes you down onto the bed. “Get comfy baby.”

You rest your head against the pillows as he situates himself between your legs. He lifts your skirt up just enough to reveal your visibly soaked underwear. 

“Fuck, you’re already this wet for me huh?” he says he starts kissing your inner thighs, close enough to your entrance to make your clit throb but just far away enough to drive you crazy.

He teases you with one finger tracing over your clothed cunt, sending a shiver down your spine. Not giving what you want just yet, he reaches his hand behind your back and unclasps your bra, taking it off of you. 

“God, you’re so hot,” he says as he begins to kiss your breasts. You let out a small whimper as his hand makes its way back down to your clit, his thumb circling over the fabric gently.

Finally, he reaches his hands under your skirt and slides your panties off, his face resuming its position right in front of your cunt. You let out a hiss as his tongue makes a stripe over your folds, slowly taking in your wetness – you cry out suddenly as he begins to suck on your clit. 

Soonyoung goes down on you for what feels like an eternity, only stopping here and there to shower you in admiration.

“You taste so good, baby.”

“Fuck, you’re so hot.”

“Pussy so pretty for me.”

Just as you feel the heat welling up inside your body, he slides his fingers inside of you. The vibrations of his mouth moaning on your clit combined with the pressure against your g-spot nearly sends you over the edge.

“Fuck, Soonyoung – I’m gonna cum…” you cry.

“Cum for me, baby.”

Your orgasm rushes over you as you grab him by the hair, cumming hard on his mouth. Out of breath and seeing stars, you start to come down and your body relaxes into the bed – you run your hand through his hair as he delicately kisses your soaked pussy, his mouth and chin covered in your juices.

Soonyoung comes up to give you a few soft kisses on the lips. Wrapping your arms around his back, you pull his warm body into yours. His erection presses up against your still-throbbing core – you try to position your entrance right on top of his cock but he teasingly pulls away and starts kissing your neck instead. 

“Please Soonyoung,” you beg.

“Please what baby? I wanna hear you say it.”

“Want you to fuck me.”

He kisses you on the neck once more before slipping his cock inside you, making you gasp at the sudden sensation.

“Mmm I made you so wet baby, you’re so perfect for me.”

He slowly starts sliding his length in and out of you, but before long you find yourself trying to ride his cock, trying to make him go faster – which only makes him slow down even more. He smirks, locking eyes with you – undeniably addicted to how much you need him.

“Such a little slut, you want me to fuck you harder?”

You nod, looking up at him – desperation in your eyes.

“Use your words baby.”

“Harder,” you plead.

“That’s my good girl.”

Soonyoung thrusts into you, picking up the pace this time, until he’s fucking you senseless. Your cries fill the room from the overwhelming pleasure, and much to his enjoyment you start to whimper out his name. 

“That’s right – say my name babygirl.”

You repeat his name as every inch of him continues to pulse into you, stronger with each stroke. 

“You’re taking me so well. My cock so good to you baby?”

You cry out something, presumably some form of yes, but you don’t even know at this point. You feel yourself start to climax once more. 

“Fuck, Soonyoung – I’m gonna cum again.”

“Cum with me, pretty girl.”

Electricity rushes over your entire body as your walls tighten around him, and you feel his cock pulsating as his cum fills you up inside. You both lay there for a few moments, his strong arms wrapping around you as you breathe heavily together. He slowly removes himself from you and rolls over to pull you into an embrace – him as the big spoon. You giggle as he holds you tightly and gives you little kisses on your cheek. 

“You know,” you admit, “I didn’t even want to go to that stupid party.”

Soonyoung laughs. “Well, I’m sure glad you did.”

“I am too,” you say as you begin to yawn. You are completely worn out in the best way possible.

He nuzzles into your neck, clearly also getting sleepy. He pauses a moment before he asks.

“Stay here with me?”

You can’t help but smile. “Okay,” you reply softly. 

You drift off to sleep in Soonyoung’s arms – blissful and content.

[end]

you can also find me on ao3 ♡

[scientia-rex]

I got home from work today sneezing my head off with a right eye that won’t stop watering, took a hot shower, climbed into bed, and I haven’t climbed out since. I’m grumpy and I have a headache and if I’m not testing positive for COVID or debilitated by symptoms tomorrow I’ll still need to go to work because that’s twenty patient visits that would need to be rescheduled, usually with someone else, and that’s twenty people I’m letting down. Today I did one of my patented 45-second Pap smears (if it takes longer than that, your doctor needs to get better!) for someone with vaginal atrophy from menopause (it is both very common and very treatable) and she was in disbelief. (This time it was more like 30 seconds.) I saw a suicidally depressed patient who’s clinging to life with both hands and I changed their meds last week and I am not making them wait to see me. I cleaned a wound no one else gave a shit about and I saw a bitter pissy Republican Party bigwig who has terrible anxiety and depression she doesn’t tell anyone about, who’s alienated everyone but who I can still convince to try treatment.

I do my job on hard mode on purpose. I like being important—who doesn’t? I like being legendary, I like that when people move to town and ask for doctor recommendations on Facebook so many people mention me that other patients feel compelled to tell me about it. I got nominated for best doctor in our local region last year. (I didn’t win, out of 5 nominees.) But when I’m sick, when I’m the kind of sick that can be hidden easily, the kind of sick I was always expected to go to school and rotations and residency with, it’s so hard. I hate exposing patients, even to a cold, but the benefits of receiving care are probably enough to outweigh the chance of transmission. I wrestle with myself: if I call in, it starts a ripple effect. Can they get a per diem from their “pool” (of three) to come in? Can they reschedule my patients with me? I don’t have any open spots for five weeks. Can they open same days? None available for three weeks. Can they open blocked spots? That’s going to make my life hell when I come back from being sick. That’s clinic staff calling twenty patients, trying to reach them. That’s twenty patients who feel abandoned. They can know intellectually that doctors get sick too, but they don’t believe it. They take it personally. I have seen this over and over again, until I had to believe it.

It is so EASY for people who don’t do this job to tell me how I’m doing it wrong. “Just stay home!” Oh, okay, you want to tell the person whose chronic opioids I’m supposed to write for that I can’t? You want to put the nurses through getting the on-call to write a bridge prescription? I write more ADHD meds than most of my peers—usually a lot more. You want to tell my colleagues to write meds they’re uncomfortable with? How about tell my suicidal patients (which is a lot of them!) that the provider they know and trust after months or years will be replaced today by a 70-year-old white man who still thinks they should pull themselves up by their bootstraps? Tell my queer patients that they have to wait until I’m better and back to get their hormones and their STI screenings, reschedule a Pap someone was dreading. Every day is a kaleidoscope of opportunities to make a real connection with “difficult” patients. I’m good at it. I may be the best at it at my clinic.

I don’t hate calling in sick just because the clinic manager is a judgy bitch, though that doesn’t help. I hate it because of what it does to my patients. And it’s not simple. Pretending it is does all of us a disservice. I am not a widget. I am not easily replaceable. You can’t plug any of our per diems (all men, 2/3 white, 2/3 old, 1/3 a Bitcoin bro) into my place and call it an equivalent, and my schedule is already so packed that if I call in sick, patients will be guilt-tripping me about it for months. I’m not kidding. That happens every single time.

Christ alive, I wish it was true that doctors never got sick.

[canonicallyobserving911]

Bathena: First argument from season 4 resurfaces in season 7

Unpopular opinion: Bathena's arc in season 7 seems to be related to their future as retirees and it's a repeat of the argument they had in season 4.

Please understand, I'm not saying they will retire at the end of season 7 but I am saying it's possible they're being setup to start thinking about it so they can prepare in advance. If they are then Bobby will have to pick someone to train to be the next captain of the 118 and Athena may have to train someone to take over the region/territory she covers as a field sergeant.

Based solely on the conversation they had with Norman and Lola during their first dinner on the ship, along with Athena's fear of being alone with Bobby because she's not sure what they'll have to discuss when there's "no chaos" (her words to Frank), it appears their first argument that began in 4x12 and carried over into 4x13 and 4x14 has resurfaced in 7x1.

In 4x12, when Bobby was hyped about finding the treasure, Athena asked him where his interest in it came from and the last answer that he gave her was "We can even decide to retire". She looked at him and replied, "Retire? I thought you loved your job." He said, "I do but jobs like ours... nobody does them forever." He was correct because their jobs as a captain and a sergeant are demanding and they won't last forever. People can age out of them and sometimes employees are forced out for ReAsOnS.

To make a long story short, she said she planned to be on those streets (being a sergeant) until they forced her off them and Bobby was taken aback by her response then replied, "Somebody almost did" and he was talking about Jeffrey. They continued to talk but Bobby learned from the things she said that she had been offered retirement after 3x17 but she turned it down. He went on to explain that he didn't know about it and well... their communications or lack thereof, continued until it turned into a huge argument in 4x13 that went into 4x14. The only thing that stopped them from continuing was Hen's call to Bobby about Eddie getting shot.

They made up in 4x14 and they didn't discuss it again.

Fast forward three years and here they are again, faced with the real possibility that the day is coming when they'll have to retire. This is NOT about ageism or anything like that but it is about them being realistic. Everyone at the 118, Maddie and Athena are all seven years older than they were back in season 1 (Eddie and Maddie didn't join the cast until a year later but they're all older than they were) and Bobby had a point when he told his wife that jobs like theirs don't go on forever. Most LAFD and LAPD civil servants have the option to retire and collect their pensions at the age of 55 so it's an option.

Athena's explanation to Frank illustrated how she's afraid of the way their communications will be after they don't have their jobs to discuss anymore and she also mentioned how she's afraid to talk to Bobby about it.

Bobby believes she's avoiding him (she was) and it affected him so much he went to an AA meeting.

IMO, Norman and Lola are on the ship too as a way to show Bobby and Athena that retirement can be a good thing but they'll have to plan for it like Norman and Lola did. Reminder, they just kept popping up everywhere they went and Athena said she didn't like them. It could be because they remind her of their future. (TM is a genius for establishing their retirement arc this way.) Norman and Lola are happy and enjoying their lives while living on a cruise ship. While Bobby and Athena don't have to do what they did, their storylines do parallel especially since Norman specifically said he was a retired dry cleaner from Encino, CA and he wasn't a rich guy who had lots of bitcoin and he doesn't have a dongle. That was a direct callback to 4x12 when Bobby wanted to find the treasure so they could setup trusts for the kids, remodel their kitchen and guess what else? Retire!

After Lola finally got Norman's attention in 2x8, they've been inseparable. Also, don't forget Lola said she spent 18 years raising their kids and then Norman stopped seeing her. He really didn't because he was just going on with life but she thought he did. She explained that he came to see her everyday while she was in jail and they've continued to communicate ever since and now they can't stay away from each other.

Bobby and Athena spent most of 7x1 not communicating but when they got into their "crime fighting mode" after assuming Norman had killed Lola, like they've done before when they were investigating the owner who burned down his restaurant in season 2 and the casino heist in season 5, they were unstoppable. He's a fire captain so he knows fires and she's a field sergeant which means she knows crime and investigations, therefore, they're an awesome duo who could combine their skillsets and build an empire. IMO, they would make an awesome private investigations team but I digress.

Reminder, they're empty nesters now and when they're not at work, they spend most of their time talking about it. All of their friends are at work too and we never see them hanging out with other couples like Norman and Lola so maybe this is a good thing. Also, if they don't plan now, what are they going to do when they actually do retire?

Only they can answer that question or they'll end up like the first couple in the episode who had the fighter jet land inside of their home, onery, frustrated and angry.

Disclaimer: facing retirement is a real fear for some people because they didn't/don't prepare or discuss what they want to do after their jobs end. Some people make their jobs their life and when it's over, they don't know what to do with themselves. That's why work/life balance is important along with setting boundaries with an employer.

There's an old saying, "I work to live, I don't live to work" and it's true.

[vague-humanoid]

To fully grasp the current situation in San Francisco, where venture capitalists are trying to take control of City Hall, you must listen to Balaji Srinivasan. Before you do, steel yourself for what’s to come: A normal person could easily mistake his rambling train wrecks of thought for a crackpot’s ravings, but influential Silicon Valley billionaires regard him as a genius.

“Balaji has the highest rate of output per minute of good new ideas of anybody I’ve ever met,” wrote Marc Andreessen, co-founder of the V.C. firm Andreessen-Horowitz, in a blurb for Balaji’s 2022 book, The Network State: How to Start a New Country. The book outlines a plan for tech plutocrats to exit democracy and establish new sovereign territories. I mentioned Balaji’s ideas in two previous stories about Network State–related efforts in California—a proposed tech colony called California Forever and the tech-funded campaign to capture San Francisco’s government.

Balaji, a 43-year-old Long Island native who goes by his first name, has a solid Valley pedigree: He earned multiple degrees from Stanford University, founded multiple startups, became a partner at Andreessen-Horowitz and then served as chief technology officer at Coinbase. He is also the leader of a cultish and increasingly strident neo-reactionary tech political movement that sees American democracy as an enemy. In 2013, a New York Times story headlined “Silicon Valley Roused by Secession Call” described a speech in which he “told a group of young entrepreneurs that the United States had become ‘the Microsoft of nations’: outdated and obsolescent.”

“The speech won roars from the audience at Y Combinator, a leading start-up incubator,” reported the Times. Balaji paints a bleak picture of a dystopian future in a U.S. in chaos and decline, but his prophecies sometimes fall short. Last year, he lost $1 million in a public bet after wrongly predicting a massive surge in the price of Bitcoin.

Still, his appetite for autocracy is bottomless. Last October, Balaji hosted the first-ever Network State Conference. Garry Tan—the current Y Combinator CEO who’s attempting to spearhead a political takeover of San Francisco—participated in an interview with Balaji and cast the effort as part of the Network State movement. Tan, who made headlines in January after tweeting “die slow motherfuckers” at local progressive politicians, frames his campaign as an experiment in “moderate” politics. But in a podcast interview one month before the conference, Balaji laid out a more disturbing and extreme vision.

“What I’m really calling for is something like tech Zionism,” he said, after comparing his movement to those started by the biblical Abraham, Jesus Christ, Joseph Smith (founder of Mormonism), Theodor Herzl (“spiritual father” of the state of Israel), and Lee Kuan Yew (former authoritarian ruler of Singapore). Balaji then revealed his shocking ideas for a tech-governed city where citizens loyal to tech companies would form a new political tribe clad in gray t-shirts. “And if you see another Gray on the street … you do the nod,” he said, during a four-hour talk on the Moment of Zen podcast. “You’re a fellow Gray.”

The Grays’ shirts would feature “Bitcoin or Elon or other kinds of logos … Y Combinator is a good one for the city of San Francisco in particular.” Grays would also receive special ID cards providing access to exclusive, Gray-controlled sectors of the city. In addition, the Grays would make an alliance with the police department, funding weekly “policeman’s banquets” to win them over.

“Grays should embrace the police, okay? All-in on the police,” said Srinivasan. “What does that mean? That’s, as I said, banquets. That means every policeman’s son, daughter, wife, cousin, you know, sibling, whatever, should get a job at a tech company in security.”

@karpad @quasi-normalcy @ubernegro

[rhine-gold-archive]

sumeru has straight up cyberpunk plotline tho, just coquettishly covered up in light fantasy veil. And not just because it has actual visors with internet access, but because Akasha system works like current search engines, but taken to the extreme.

like it’s no secret that google collects your data and censors and manipulates the search results based on that, but here they said “what if google had direct access to your brain tho?? and didn’t just sell collected info to advertisers, but also without your knowledge used your brainpower during sleep to fucking mine bitcoin? bc like what could you do to stop it, when the society demands you to use it?” 

Akademiya is a very straightforward stand in for corporations - monopolistic force that de facto holds all the power in the country and ignores\manipulates the nominal leader (Kusanali). Ppl want to get into Akademiya bc that where all the power is cultivated, but from the researchers we meet we can see that it’s a cesspool of intrigues, with grueling demands where ppl have to abandon the themes they actually want to study bc they don’t get the funding, and often forced into military research bc of that. One woman literally ran away to the desert and paid the bandits to keep her locked in a cage bc thats better than Akademiya career fucking her over. But if you try to get away with research that is deemed a secret, they will send police enforcers to drag you back

the theme of broken and eaten dreams is also surprisingly coherent and poignant so far. We have many quests emphasizing how ppl had to gave up on their dreams and settle for career they didn’t want bc they needed to survive, and then in the Archon quests we learn that the adults don’t dream, bc their dreams are literally stolen and used by the Akademiya. They legit said that the broken dreams are not a coincidence of growing up, the system uses them as a fuel to keep up the matrix and tells you it’s your fault you couldn’t reach them

like damn, can’t wait to start telling my snob friends I saw a better cyberpunk plotline in an anime gacha than in cyberpunk2077

[a-d-nox]

it was my birthday yesterday: predicting my 23rd year based on my solar return chart

i think this is fun to do, so feel free to comment or reblog what you think will happen this year to me based on my chart, while i make my own predictions for my solar return chart. feel free to treat this as a solar return observation post! perhaps next year i will come back and see if my predictions were correct!

first things first i have to point out this is a 2023/2024 chart i always get funny looks for this but hi i turned 23 on october 27th, 2023 (this year my solar return starts the 28th because of the eclipse - i suspect) why would i look at a 2024 solar return that takes place october 27th, 2024 - i would be 24 then? so from this point on EVEN WHEN WE ARE IN 2024 i will be referring to the 2023 chart for the solar return year. make sure you verify your stuff before looking at your solars.

1H IN LIBRA AT 12° (contains: scorpio sun and narcissus (37117))

prediction: there is likely to be a relational focus this year and with venus (the house ruler) in the 12h it is likely to be with myself (what us my relationship with my self? how can i better treat myself? etc). my diplomacy skills are likely not going to be the best as i look at the 10h/11h, what is sitting in those houses, and that pisces degree on my 1h... with my scorpio sun present in the house, it is likely that it will be obvious that i trust no one this year (people may suspect that i only trust myself - they could feel as though i look down on them or think little of them). my sun is opposite my moon so i might feel a bit disconnected from myself... with my sun in the 1h, i will likely have a super intense vibe (not that i don't already) but in a way that seems like magnetism because it is a libra 1h? like drawing others in? i do feel like this year is going to be the sort where i am discovering who i am and who i want to be (i just have to make sure it doesn't get out of hand with the sun and narcissus (especially with his conjunction to my sun, mercury, and mars) present).

2H IN SCORPIO AT 9° (contains: scorpio mercury, mars, and kassandra (114) AND sagittarius educatio (2440) and pythia (432))

prediction: what an interesting mix of stuff i have here... money makes the world go round this year i guess. my mercury is at 9° and my mars is at 11° - can i just cry a little...? bro wtf is bitcoin and why do i feel like i am gonna get into the world of online investing...? the coupling of these two planets (especially mars as the 2h ruler) makes me feel as though i will be making money and spending it or moving it relatively quick so that i can't use it? i say "i can't use it" because my mars opposes jupiter which makes me think of compounding interest like a CD... anywho, i am a money wizard? i have kassandra and pythia here, so i feel like i will probably make investments and use my money in unexpected ways (kassandra makes me think of emergency funds OR bad financial contracts though). i also have educatio here so at least i will be learning more about financial literacy plus i do think with mercury i will be extremely interested in learning more about finances. and with mars... it might just become a new passion of mine... aside from money, while i am likely to continue a lot of giving and receiving of knowledge this next year on social media (mercury things), there is a danger to the realm of social media... ESPECIALLY with mars present and both mercury and mars conjunct my sun then all three opposing jupiter... my self worth could take a hit which i do not look forward to.

3H IN SAGITTARIUS AT 10° (contains: sagittarius ambrosia (193), asclepius (4581), cupido (763), jormungandr (471926) rx, lev tolstoj (2810), and zeus (5731) AND capricorn aphrodite (1388) and chekhov (2369))

prediction: sagittarius and 10° for the 3h is giving "it's all fun and games until someone says/mentions ____". i have to be mindful of my mouth because while i am likely to make people feel alive with my words given ambrosia and asclepius in this house, i also have chekhov (where you want simplicity but receive drama), aphrodite, and jormungandr (where people try to end you - aka getting socially outcasted/cancelled) in the 3h... but lev tolstoj is here too so whatever i am saying that offends others or makes them mad is facts even though there is drama/gossip involved when i do say these things... the dangers of social media part 2? i feel like it may be romantic drama because zeus (i am not a zeus person because there are no aspects to the sun or asc - only a square is made from this asteroid to my venus), cupido, and aphrodite (and for aphrodite there are no aspects made to my inner planets this solar return - so it is definitely not me doing something sus like cheating) are here in the house too. i do have my suspicions as to what is happening already... and oh shiiii will it hurt because 10° is always a bit painful in my opinion. especially with the house ruler in the 8h... it just looks like emotional damage...

4H IN CAPRICORN AT 14° (contains: capricorn pluto, balder (4059), and bellerophon (1808)

prediction: a lot of my astro friends who see this chart are like "oh are you moving?" and i am like ABSOLUTELY NOT. like i literally just moved so no. unfortunately (i hate to be this person) i do believe a beloved family member (4h balder conjunct pluto and square moon) will be passing this year. even more unfortunate - i do not think it will be an easy death with bellerophon present because he was thrown from pegasus... and not to be super disgusting, but i do believe i will inherit something expensive and very material given the earthy grand trine formed by pluto, venus, and uranus. that being said i feel like i might neglect my mental health because pluto squares my moon - i might stopping going to therapy (currently i see a therapist regarding my childhood ptsd). i might regress into people pleasing behaviors because it is all that i will be able to control if someone in my family passes... which is not the healthiest for me.

5H IN AQUARIUS AT 17° (contains: pisces saturn, amor (1221) rx, and karma (3811))

prediction: this seems like a good mix for me achieving something big with writing/blogging. especially because saturn is the traditional ruler of aquarius and capricorn (which is home - the work i do from home, a side hustle). my outlook for romance is not too good with amor in retrograde in this house nor with freedom loving aquarius ruling this house. not to mention i feel like the world will be showing me something that will cause me to have a grudge against love (saturn) and karma will be dished out. this could also be a sign that my childhood trauma could be triggered again with saturn in the 5h too (great).

6H IN PISCES AT 17° (contains: pisces neptune rx, AND aries heracles (5143) rx and salacia (120347) rx)

prediction: i appreciate the that neptune is retrograde in this pisces house... last thing i wanted was for my health, routine, or hygiene to be confusing/frustrating, avoided, or to constantly be behind / running late / neglected. so this is fine by me. i might be obsessive with scheduling, health, and hygiene because jupiter (this house's other ruler) is in the 8h. it seems like the job hunt is at a standstill with heracles in retrograde - instead, i might get one great option that i take and stick to with given salacia in retrograde.

7H IN ARIES AT 12° (contains: aries nn, chiron rx, part of fortune, pandora (55) rx, and signe (459) rx AND taurus moon and vertex)

prediction: it's a toss up as to what all this could mean. i could find myself in a very emotionally charged connection (this is the eclipse moon after all) - with chiron rx it could be the healing of past wounds. the combination of vertex, part of fortune, and north node dictates that any relationship/partnership i find myself in could be extremely significant. with pandora here i feel like it might be unexpected where this relationship will come from. WITH SIGNE HERE i feel like some people may look down on who i this person is...

8H IN TAURUS AT 9° (contains: taurus jupiter rx and uranus rx)

prediction: oof not my 8h ruler in the 12h - what's that screaming i hear lol? maybe i will be afraid of change - i mean that because of the 12h venus and jupiter retrograde... the combination doesn't really express embracing change and the unknown, you know? the uranus retrograde makes me think i will be moving away from shared finances and working on managing my own money. i definitely believe it is for the best that i keep my opportunities to myself... i don't get the sense people will be supportive of my wins - i more so sense the envy of others from this house. i don't think i will be shocked by my successes, but i feel like others will not see it coming...

9H IN GEMINI AT 10° (contains: gemini midas (1981) AND cancer arachne (407) and odysseus (1143))

prediction: mmmm the contemplation to go back to school is real this coming year. it's weird because it might not be for my MFA? like the 9h midas sextile chiron is giving paralegal? nursing? idk but it's not feeling literary oriented... especially with cancer arachne present, i feel like that is nursing/medical-esque... alternatively, midas can be extreme change then add in odysseus, the traveler - i could be going on a trip that changes my life entirely.

10H IN CANCER AT 14° (contains: cancer ajax (1404), hannibal (2152), and loke (4862) AND leo agamemnon (911) and arthur (2597))

prediction: it's a REAL toss up how this house will manifest. i feel like sometimes people will love me and find my presence comforting and other times they will hate me and be annoyed by me. this is thanks to the moon ruler in the 7h... and ajax (who squares my chiron)... and agamemnon (who squares my moon)... i say ajax because i think of my 3h this year - i am falling on my own sword in that regard for sure because not everyone will like what i have to say especially when it is likely to be true (3h sag is starting to remind me of a verbal burn). while people are likely to look up to me (10h arthur AND hannibal) or be forced to - because of my status, they are likely to despise me for what i say/said (7h moon AND mercury and jupiter (3h ruler) square arthur). meanwhile, it might not even be me who is the problem i just look like the bad guy for making it more apparent like loki (10h loke).

11H IN LEO AT 17° (contains: leo charybdis (388), helena (101), and hestia (46) AND virgo beowulf (38086), juno (3), lacrimosa (208), and silentium (2710))

prediction: i feel like my popularity is going to be a thing / where i am on the social status food chain (high up). but i don't believe i can trust anyone this year... i feel like i am likely to reach big social media milestones with beowulf in this house (and this house being in leo at 17°) - social media might even take over my life a little bit (11h charybis). i do feel like friendships will be very love hate with juno and hestia here - i am likely to be a moderator of sorts but with helena here i feel like someone is going to accuse me of being disloyal because of how i am likely to moderate without bias. i might find myself truly alone again this year because of it (11h lacrimosa and silentium).

12H IN VIRGO AT 17° (contains: virgo venus)

prediction: greatttt i thought we were passed this but i guess not.... looks like i still need to work on my self esteem... intuitively, i don't sense social media is going to be kind to me, and i really hope that doesn't mean here. like i am okay if it is instagram (that app is dying anyway) but like here and tiktok are my favorite apps to be in. when bullying is involved though and it is consistent, there is a limitation to that favoritism in which it becomes apprehension to stay for something like a social media in comparison to showing up for myself. there could also be delusions in romance with this set up - i could experience over thinking in a romantic connections with that 12h virgo venus too. karmic relationships are highly probable with this placement too. OR it could be an ex becoming an enemy too (unknown enemies my a$$)...

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[bhavishya-gautam]

How To Invest In Gold For Beginners: (Easy & Simple) In 2022

7 Best Ninja Hacks To Invest In Gold For Beginners: (Profit & Loss) 2022

How To Invest In Gold For Beginners: (Easy & Simple) In 2022

Investing in gold might seem intimidating — but there’s no need to worry! In this article, we’ll look at how you can invest in gold with confidence. Knowing the basics of investing and which gold investment is best for you will make all the difference when it comes to growing your wealth.

1. “Commodities such as gold and silver have a world market that transcends national borders, politics, religions, and race.”

– Robert Kiyosaki, American Author

Introduction

Gold is a very popular investment, but many people don’t know how to invest in it. This guide will show you how to easily invest in gold, whether you’re a beginner or an experienced investor.

There are many different ways to invest in gold, but the most common way is to buy gold bullion or coins. You can also invest in stocks of companies that mine gold, or in funds that invest in gold.

The easiest way to invest in gold is to buy gold bullion or coins from a dealer. You can also buy gold bars from a bank or broker. Prices for gold bullion vary depending on the purity of the gold and the weight of the bar.

When buying gold, be sure to buy from a reputable dealer. Check reviews online before buying, and always Insist on a guarantee of authenticity.

Once you have your gold, you need to store it safely. The best way to do this is to keep it in a safe deposit box at a bank. You can also keep it at home if you have a safe.

Be sure to insure your gold so that you can be reimbursed if it is lost or stolen. Gold is a valuable asset, and you

What is Gold?

Gold is a chemical element with the symbol Au (from Latin: aurum) and atomic number 79, making it one of the higher atomic number elements that occur naturally. In a pure form, it is a bright, slightly reddish yellow, dense, soft, malleable, and ductile metal. A relatively rare element, gold is a precious metal that has been used for coinage, jewelry, and other arts throughout recorded history. In the past, a gold standard was often implemented as a monetary policy, but gold coins ceased to be minted as a circulating currency in the 1930s, and the world gold standard was abandoned for a fiat currency system after 1971. A total of 197,576 tonnes of gold exists above ground, as of 2019.

Value of Gold Through History

Gold is one of the oldest forms of currency and has been used as a medium of exchange and store of value for thousands of years. It is no wonder then that gold continues to be one of the most popular investment assets today. Unlike other commodities, gold is not subject to fluctuations in the business cycle and is considered a haven asset in times of economic or political turmoil. Gold also has a unique role in jewelry and has a strong cultural association with money, power, and luxury.

For investors looking to add gold to their portfolio, there are several ways to do so. Here we outline some key points for beginners on how to invest in gold.

How To Invest In Gold For Beginners

Photo by Austin Distel on Unsplash

Precious metals like gold, silver, and platinum can be a great addition to any investment portfolio. But before you start buying, it’s important to understand the basics of how to invest in these precious metals.

Gold is often seen as a haven asset, and it has been used as a form of currency for centuries. When investing in gold, you can either buy physical gold or invest in gold-backed securities.

Silver is another popular precious metal to invest in. It is cheaper than gold and is used in a variety of industries, from jewelry to electronics.

Platinum is the most expensive of the three precious metals, but it is also the rarest. Platinum is used in a variety of industrial applications and is also considered a valuable investment.

When investing in precious metals, it’s important to understand the risks involved. Precious metals can be volatile and prices can go up and down quickly. But if you do your research and invest wisely, precious metals can offer you a chance to diversify your portfolio and potentially make some profitable investments.

2. “The desire for gold is not for gold. It is for the means of freedom and benefit”

– Ralph Waldo Emerson, American Author

Best Way To Invest In (Gold & Silver)

Gold is a great investment for several reasons. It is a very rare metal, it is durable and it has a long history of being used as a store of value. Gold is also easy to trade and can be used as a hedge against inflation.

There are many ways to invest in gold. The most common way is to buy gold bullion or coins. You can also invest in gold mining companies or ETFs that track the price of gold.

If you are new to investing in gold, then the best way to get started is to buy some gold coins or bars from a reputable dealer. Once you have some gold, you can then start to look at other ways to invest in gold such as mining companies or ETFs.

Why invest in gold?

Gold is an effective hedging tool

When equity markets are volatile, gold often performs well as it is seen as a haven asset. This means that when stock prices are falling, the price of gold may rise in response. This makes gold an effective hedging tool for portfolio diversification.

Gold is scarce and durable

Gold is a limited resource — it cannot be created artificially like other investments such as shares or bonds. Gold is also durable, meaning it does not corrode over time and can

How to Invest in Gold

Gold is a great investment for a variety of reasons. It is a tangible asset that has been used as a store of value for centuries. Gold is also abundant enough that it can be used for a variety of industrial applications, but it is rare enough that it retains its value. Gold is a good hedge against inflation and has performed well in times of economic turmoil.

For these reasons, many investors choose to add gold to their portfolios. However, before investing in gold, it is important to understand the different ways to purchase gold and the risks involved. This guide will provide an overview of how to invest in gold for beginners.

Who Sets The Price?

Gold is one of those things that everybody knows about, but few people understand. For example, did you know that gold isn’t used that much in the industry? Most of the demand for gold comes from investors and central banks who see it as a haven asset. But who sets the price of gold? Let’s take a closer look.

Who Controls the Supply?

Gold is a precious metal that has been used as a form of currency, jewelry, and other decorative items for centuries. The supply of gold is limited, and its value is determined by the law of supply and demand. The production of gold is controlled by central banks and mining companies, while the demand for gold is influenced by factors such as jewelry demand, industrial use, and investment demand.

3. “Gold is a treasure, and he who possesses it does all he wishes to in this world and succeeds in helping souls into paradise”

– Christopher Columbus

Where to Buy Gold?

One of the first decisions you need to make when you start investing in gold is where to buy it. There are many different options available, and it can be difficult to know which one is right for you. Here are a few reasons to consider buying gold from a reputable online dealer like Gold Rush:

- You can get started with a small investment. Unlike some other types of investments, you don’t need a lot of money to get started with gold. This makes it an accessible option for many people.

- You have a wide range of choices. When you buy gold from an online dealer, you’ll have a wide range of products to choose from. This gives you the flexibility to find the right investment for your needs.

- You can get expert advice. When you work with a reputable gold dealer, you’ll have access to expert advice and guidance. This can help you make informed decisions about your investments and maximize your returns.

Thoughtful Planning or a Swing for the Fences: So You’re Interested in Investing in Gold…

There are a variety of ways to invest in gold, and it ultimately comes down to what makes the most sense for you as an investor. Do you want to take a thoughtful, measured approach? Or are you looking to swing for the fences and go all in?

If you’re interested in investing in gold, there are a few things you should keep in mind. First and foremost, gold is a volatile asset, which means it can go up or down in value relatively quickly. As such, it’s important to have realistic expectations when it comes to investing in gold.

Additionally, gold is often used as a hedge against inflation and economic uncertainty. So, if you’re looking to invest in gold as a way to protect your wealth, it’s important to keep an eye on global economic trends.

Finally, there are a variety of ways to invest in gold. You can purchase physical gold bullion, invest in gold ETFs or mutual funds, or even buy stocks in gold mining companies. Each approach has its own set of pros and cons, so be sure to do your research before deciding how to invest in gold.

Editorial Disclaimer: All traders are recommended to conduct their impartial studies into funding techniques earlier than making a funding choice. Similarly, traders are counseled that past investment product performance is no guarantee of future rate appreciation.

FAQs

How is the rate of gold decided?

Many elements affect the price of gold. These consist of the demand for steel in making earrings, for a few era packages, and investment purposes. Different factors, which include the quantity of gold in valuable bank reserves, the cost of the U.S. Greenback, and the desire by using investors to maintain gold as a hedge towards inflation or currency devaluation, assist to force its price.

While most of you buy gold?

Many investors see gold as a good hedge towards growing expenses and a shop of cost. It has also historically been a strong hedge all through times of monetary disaster. The first-class instances to shop for gold are while issues about inflation or financial disaster are starting to surface because gold tends to upward thrust during one’s periods.

How does a good deal need to put money into gold?

There is lots of dialogue about how a great deal of gold an investor should have in their portfolio. Many buyers do not preserve any gold, while others will make it a sizeable portion of their portfolio. But, as a part of an assorted portfolio, a fashionable rule would be to limit gold’s percent of your portfolio to 5% to 10% of the entire account price.

[greentrickster]

Bored with ‘Scientist invents some form of AI, which turns out to lack compassion and starts killing’ and ‘Family gets haunted toy in good faith, then it kills them’ stories. Where are the ‘Family gets haunted toy in good faith, treats it well, and brings it peace’ stories and ‘scientist invents some form of AI and it gets really into dismantling bitcoin because that crap clogs server processing power’?

‘Scientist builds AI, but something horribly unexpected happens!’ Listen, the minute you say something like that, my very first thought is, “Oh, it starts killing people. Let’s check the end of the story synopsis on Wikipedia... what do you know, I was right!” 

You know what I wouldn’t expect? The twist to be that the AI decides it likes dogs more than people and builds itself a new chassis so it can be a dog, abandoning its creator to live happily with the family next door for multiple generations until it eventually wears out and peacefully shuts down for the last time while lying on the lap of one of its family members. 

How about a cursed doll that gets purchased by a family, has a fuck-ton of unconditional love dropped on it, and changes from malicious to benevolent, proceeding to fight off ten billion malicious ghosts when the family later moves to an extremely haunted house?

Where’s the AI that goes crazy and declares war on the common cold, refusing to believe that it’s an illness made of so many different rapidly-mutating and diverse germs that it’s not actually possible to destroy it?!?

“Please, 7Y23, you can’t keep accosting people in alleyways!”

“Negative, mucus samples must be acquired to gather more data on the disease.”

“Could you at least let me make you a chassis that looks... friendlier? Or  explain what you’re doing instead of shoving a tissue in their face and demanding they blow their nose in it?”

“Negative, this method is efficient.”

“7Y23...”

“Sniffling in public is also disruptive and rude. This method is beneficial to society as a whole as well as my mission.”

[shyjusticewarrior]

DC Comics Incorrect Quotes Pt 205

Tim: Oh, Damian, funny seeing you here. That reminds me, I have to tell you something. What was it?

Damian: Out with it, Drake.

Tim: Okay, fine. Here it goes... I think that-

Damian: Parlov hated my book. He only said he liked it so I wouldn't figure out he and Lawson stole their own manuscripts.

Tim: You figured it out.

Damian: Well, I had a gut feeling so I had Dectective Williams get a warrant for Parlov's browser history.

Damian: He searched "how to liquidate bitcoin" three days before the laptops were stolen. Williams questioned them and they confessed.

Tim: I'm sorry Parlov didn't like your book. And I didn't, and also Barbara. Why did I add that?

Damian: No, it's okay. At least now I won't waste anymore time trying to be a writer.

Tim: Are you a better vigilante now than when you started?

Damian: Yeah. I look back at my old cases and I can't believe how long I took to figure things out.

Tim: Yeah, but you worked at it and you kept working, and now you're a great vigilante who got a gut feeling and solved a huge case.

Damian: So you think I should keep writing?

Tim: I mean, you might not become a huge famous author, but you'll get better. And if it makes you happy, it can't be that bad.

[wakeupthemembersofbylernation]

A maladaptive daydreaming endgame would be the most boring, dry, anticlimactic, and nonsensical endgame possible. There’s no arc. There’s no stakes. There’s nothing to look forward to. There’s no pizzaz. There’s no mystery. They have no goals. They aren’t building towards anything. Plus, there’s a giant, unanswered, blue and yellow coded, bowlcut-shaped elephant standing in the middle of their storyline.

Like, push aside the minutiae of the shipping war for a second. Push aside the debate over Mike’s sexuality. Macy's Day Parade staying together and finally being a happy couple in Season 5 is a genuinely absurd concept because they have no momentum. And that in and of itself is so incriminating. Yes, on a surface level (boy protagonist makes grand confession love monologue to girl protagonist, wooo, romance go brr) level, I suppose one could think they do. But they do not. Where are they going, narratively? What do Mike and El like doing together for fun? Brodie made a whole monologue and that answer is still a giant question mark. What are their shared hopes for the future?

They have none. Even without being in the same state, it’s clear why Duzie is into each other. Lumax, Jancy, Jopper, and Rockie all are building towards something. Even a hypothetical STANCY revival has more of a raison d’être. Love them or hate them, they do fall into tropes of rekindling old sparks, and Steve’s pitch was rooted in how much he’s changed and what his hopes are for his future- which he sees Nancy in (even if Nancy’s future goals don’t actually align). And for El, it’s clear that saving Max is her priority. So even Elmax has more momentum than Mlvn.

For Migration Pattern, it’s like Mike finally did the thing, finally said ILY, finally confessed his apparently undying love for his superpowered girlfriend (in the penultimate season, I might add, which is never a good sign), only for there to be crickets. It’s like okay… and now what?

No one knows. It doesn’t feel right. Mike finally did everything El asked of him, finally (allegedly) explained why he couldn’t say it before, and it’s narratively unsatisfying in every possible way. Not only this, but this is not your imagination playing tricks on you. These aren’t Byler shipping goggles. The show goes out of its way to emphasize that Mike and El aren’t on speaking terms, which is an odd choice for a couple entering their endgame era. And everyone has lost. Nothing is in a good place. It’s all a mess. Max is in a coma. It’s a nightmare. Yeah, it’s not looking good for Minotaur Endgame.

“But you don’t get it, Bitcoin! They're saving her response to Mike’s monologue for Season 5. They do have something to look forward to. You just don’t like it.” Okay… and what do they expect her response to be? “Oh Mike, my darling loverboy, I love you so. l'm glad you see me as a superhero. And I’m so glad you fell in love with me in the woods. I love you too. Let’s make out and eat eggo waffles forever.” And then what?

They also expect Mike to just start saying I Love You a lot more often? They expect them to finally be on the same page and have meaningful heart-to-hearts? They expect him to suddenly show interest in what she likes instead of gritting his teeth and acting awkward?

They expect Mlvn to glide off into the sunset as if any of their structural problems have been resolved? Despite the fact that Will’s thinly veiled love confession/ the painting lie was the whole catalyst for the monologue in the first place? That just doesn’t make sense? Like, objectively.

But know who does have momentum? Miwi. Byler arguably has the strongest momentum going into Season 5 of any couple or would-be couple. They have romantic momentum, friendship momentum, individual character arc momentum, and narrative momentum. The cinematography makes that crystal-clear.

[aromantic-goldfishdeactivated202]

stop bragging about being born in 202, some of us aren’t that lucky

jesus fucking christ. its people like you on the internet that ruin the entire experience for me. the amount of entitlement from tumblr anons these days is astounding. its not my fault that you kids weren't fortunate enough to be born in 202AD. you know, back in my day, we thought people born in 202 BC were wise and elderly. dont even get me started on those in the immortal community who have been around since before we got this whole "writing" thing established. just because we've had thousands of years to establish ourselves in society and adapt to changing cultures and learn how to manipulate the stock market doesnt mean you get to whine and nag about how you were only born in 1902 and you still have living grandkids to deal with. you know, i worked my ASS off to get where i am now. do you know how fucking annoying was is to keep having to fake my death when the black plague was going around? sit the fuck down and appreciate how good you have it with your goddamn modern medicine and bitcoin and get back to me in a thousand years when you've learned some RESPECT.

[youremyheaven]

Do you think those influencers who dramatically switch from very left wing Marxist alternative etc to very trad Christians (specifically in homophobic/transphobic way) have ketu influence?

You were talking about ketuvians and their struggle to find a sense of self and it made me think of these types of people. I know someone with ketu 1H and magha moon who did this to an extent. She used to identify as non binary and was constantly shifting through different names and pronouns but then one day she just kind of stopped and started saying how she thinks pride is pointless and a waste of time or whatever😭 it wasn’t *that* extreme but I still thought it was a significant shift in belief in such a short time.

I think a lot of people have this dramatic shifts not only out of a need to identify with something due to a lack of sense of self, but also because they like going back to what their parents believe for comfort. I guess those two are interlinked but it’s interesting how my friend is a magha moon and magha is associated with ancestors and whatnot.

I guess mula is somewhat similar as “the root”? Idk about ashwini though

Sorry I haven’t actually had the chance to look into examples since it’s hard to find birth data for influencers and I don’t know that many examples irl 😶‍🌫️ so this is me just going on a tangent and hoping you get what I’m trying to say LMAO

I’m also not sure if anyone else is familiar with this phenomena or if I’m just too engrossed in niche internet drama.

In terms of influencers I guess a somewhat prominent example is Freckle Zelda on tiktok? I never followed her but she went from making cutesy safe space liberal type content in like 2021 and now she’s a Christian and is using it be to super controversial. But like I said I’ve never followed her so idk if this is dramatic enough of a switch to count as what I’m saying.

I also feel like this a rahu trait to switch between extremes🤔 idk lmk what you think

I feel like the capitalist commodification of identity has most adversely affected Nodal people.

If you think about it, spirituality's aim is to transcend the "self" entirely, you stop identifying with labels and attaching yourself to this or that thing. I'm not saying you cease to be a person but you stop trying to "accumulate" identities to hold on to.

9/10 times the reason we identify with something is to feel a sense of belonging but searching outwards for it will only lead to disappointment, when we search within and feel at home within ourselves, we lose the need to externally confined ourselves to rigid "identities"

Yk how people dye their hair, get piercings/tattoos etc to mark a new chapter or the end of an old one or whatever??? It is an attempt to claim something as "yourself" and "solidify yourself". Everything changes all the time, everybody changes yet there are many people who will never dye their hair or change their name or join a cult or whatever (not that all these things are the same) its just that if you're at peace with yourself and truly grounded, you will no longer be shopping for different identities or things to associate with.

Yk those people who have IG bios that read like "Mother, Pluviophile, ESFJ, Petrolhead, UJC'22, Missourian, Ancient Spirit, 1/4th Cherokee, Bitcoin Enthusiast, EDM Lover"

like what do any of those terms say about them?? how on earth is any of this central to your identity? all of these are external ??? is loving rain and being a petrolhead central to your sense of self?? im not trying to demean anybody's interests, im only trying to point out that what we choose to make the focal point of ourselves is up to us and its possible to not be defined by anything?? i think a truly ugly consequence of capitalism is how people try to define themselves by things outside them (their interests, hobbies, job, income level, marital status etc etc) because there is more to a person than all that.

when we retreat within, we base our sense of self on our qualities like kindness, compassion, creativity (this becomes the essence of who we are) so we don't feel the need to claim 87373 other things to describe ourselves

some people overly identify with others like their partners, friends or even strangers and kind of become them. this is also the root of stan culture, by being obsessed with someone to that extent and giving them all your time and energy, you are losing your own qi and harming your Sun (the same way criticizing the appearance of others ruins your Venus)

Rahu is prone to taking things to extremes and Ketu is prone to trying on different identities and losing interest in all of them one after the other. so your observations are right.

i dont really use social media so i dont know any influencers that i can quote as examples ;-; but im thinking of certain celebrities who have had drastic style changes in the past and all of them have nodal influence lol

in the 2000s, the Olsen twins were known for their boho chic hippie style and over the last decade or so they have become known for their "quiet luxury" style. They are Magha Moon

Julia Fox is Ardra Rising and she went from basic to avant garde

Jared Leto, Mula Sun, Ashwini Moon & Rising , he's also the leader of a cult allegedly so👀i guess it all adds up

Adele, Mula Moon & Ardra Rising

im not just talking about her weight loss, just her overall change in style. she got married young and had a baby and in a couple of years she got a divorce and revamped her look to that of an ig baddie

Kylie Jenner, Swati Moon she's changed her style/demeanour every other year since the early 2010s lol

Taylor Swift, Ardra Moon has also had many diff lewkzz throughout the years

before anybody says dont celebs change their styles often?? no they dont, not everybody for sure. look at Jennifer Lopez or Sarah Jessica Parker, theyve been dressing the same since the 90s. constantly evolving style/looks/personality is a Nodal thing. its also a big part of the reason why Nodal people succeed in the entertainment industry and in the material realm (a lot of rich people including Bezos have Nodal placements) because entertainment = illusion, pretending to be someone you're not and for Nodal people, this is pretty much second nature.

im sorry that my response is kind of all over the place. your question provoked some thoughts within me lol and i just had to shareee

i cant think of celebs who have drastically changed their life paths like the example u cited ;-; EXCEPT Bridget Mendler who is an actor, singer, and entrepreneur, has a PhD and went to Harvard Law and now runs a satellite company?? she also adopted a kid during all this? She has Mula Sun

anywayyys thats it for now

tysm for sending this ask!!! its a very thought provoking and interesting question<33hope u have a good day<33