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mostlysignssomeportents · 8 months ago

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Retiring the US debt would retire the US dollar

THIS WEDNESDAY (October 23) at 7PM, I'll be in DECATUR, GEORGIA, presenting my novel THE BEZZLE at EAGLE EYE BOOKS.

One of the most consequential series of investigative journalism of this decade was the Propublica series that Jesse Eisinger helmed, in which Eisinger and colleagues analyzed a trove of leaked IRS tax returns for the richest people in America:

https://www.propublica.org/series/the-secret-irs-files

The Secret IRS Files revealed the fact that many of America's oligarchs pay no tax at all. Some of them even get subsidies intended for poor families, like Jeff Bezos, whose tax affairs are so scammy that he was able to claim to be among the working poor and receive a federal Child Tax Credit, a $4,000 gift from the American public to one of the richest men who ever lived:

https://www.propublica.org/article/the-secret-irs-files-trove-of-never-before-seen-records-reveal-how-the-wealthiest-avoid-income-tax

As important as the numbers revealed by the Secret IRS Files were, I found the explanations even more interesting. The 99.9999% of us who never make contact with the secretive elite wealth management and tax cheating industry know, in the abstract, that there's something scammy going on in those esoteric cults of wealth accumulation, but we're pretty vague on the details. When I pondered the "tax loopholes" that the rich were exploiting, I pictured, you know, long lists of equations salted with Greek symbols, completely beyond my ken.

But when Propublica's series laid these secret tactics out, I learned that they were incredibly stupid ruses, tricks so thin that the only way they could possibly fool the IRS is if the IRS just didn't give a shit (and they truly didn't – after decades of cuts and attacks, the IRS was far more likely to audit a family earning less than $30k/year than a billionaire).

This has become a somewhat familiar experience. If you read the Panama Papers, the Paradise Papers, Luxleaks, Swissleaks, or any of the other spectacular leaks from the oligarch-industrial complex, you'll have seen the same thing: the rich employ the most tissue-thin ruses, and the tax authorities gobble them up. It's like the tax collectors don't want to fight with these ultrawealthy monsters whose net worth is larger than most nations, and merely require some excuse to allow them to cheat, anything they can scribble in the box explaining why they are worth billions and paying little, or nothing, or even entitled to free public money from programs intended to lift hungry children out of poverty.

It was this experience that fueled my interest in forensic accounting, which led to my bestselling techno-crime-thriller series starring the two-fisted, scambusting forensic accountant Martin Hench, who made his debut in 2022's Red Team Blues:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865847/red-team-blues

The double outrage of finding out how badly the powerful are ripping off the rest of us, and how stupid and transparent their accounting tricks are, is at the center of Chokepoint Capitalism, the book about how tech and entertainment companies steal from creative workers (and how to stop them) that Rebecca Giblin and I co-authored, which also came out in 2022:

https://chokepointcapitalism.com/

Now that I've written four novels and a nonfiction book about finance scams, I think I can safely call myself a oligarch ripoff hobbyist. I find this stuff endlessly fascinating, enraging, and, most importantly, energizing. So naturally, when PJ Vogt devoted two episodes of his excellent Search Engine podcast to the subject last week, I gobbled them up:

https://www.searchengine.show/listen/search-engine-1/why-is-it-so-hard-to-tax-billionaires-part-1

I love the way Vogt unpacks complex subjects. Maybe you've had the experience of following a commentator and admiring their knowledge of subjects you're unfamiliar with, only have them cover something you're an expert in and find them making a bunch of errors (this is basically the experience of using an LLM, which can give you authoritative seeming answers when the subject is one you're unfamiliar with, but which reveals itself to be a Bullshit Machine as soon as you ask it about something whose lore you know backwards and forwards).

Well, Vogt has covered many subjects that I am an expert in, and I had the opposite experience, finding that even when he covers my own specialist topics, I still learn something. I don't always agree with him, but always find those disagreements productive in that they make me clarify my own interests. (Full disclosure: I was one of Vogt's experts on his previous podcast, Reply All, talking about the inkjet printerization of everything:)

https://gimletmedia.com/shows/reply-all/brho54

Vogt's series on taxing billionaires was no exception. His interview subjects (including Eisinger) were very good, and he got into a lot of great detail on the leaker himself, Charles Littlejohn, who plead guilty and was sentenced to five years:

https://jacobin.com/2023/10/charles-littlejohn-irs-whistleblower-pro-publica-tax-evasion-prosecution

Vogt also delved into the history of the federal income tax, how it was sold to the American public, and a rather hilarious story of Republican Congressional gamesmanship that backfired spectacularly. I'd never encountered this stuff before and boy was it interesting.

But then Vogt got into the nature of taxation, and its relationship to the federal debt, another subject I've written about extensively, and that's where one of those productive disagreements emerged. Yesterday, I set out to write him a brief note unpacking this objection and ended up writing a giant essay (sorry, PJ!), and this morning I found myself still thinking about it. So I thought, why not clean up the email a little and publish it here?

As much as I enjoyed these episodes, I took serious exception to one – fairly important! – aspect of your analysis: the relationship of taxes to the national debt.

There's two ways of approaching this question, which I think of as akin to classical vs quantum physics. In the orthodox, classical telling, the government taxes us to pay for programs. This is crudely true at 10,000 feet and as a rule of thumb, it's fine in many cases. But on the ground – at the quantum level, in this analogy – the opposite is actually going on.

There is only one source of US dollars: the US Treasury (you can try and make your own dollars, but they'll put you in prison for a long-ass time if they catch you.).

If dollars can only originate with the US government, then it follows that:

a) The US government doesn't need our taxes to get US dollars (for the same reason Apple doesn't need us to redeem our iTunes cards to get more iTunes gift codes);

b) All the dollars in circulation start with spending by the US government (taxes can't be paid until dollars are first spent by their issuer, the US government); and

c) That spending must happen before anyone has been taxed, because the way dollars enter circulation is through spending.

You've probably heard people say, "Government spending isn't like household spending." That is obviously true: households are currency users while governments are currency issuers.

But the implications of this are very interesting.

First, the total dollars in circulation are:

a) All the dollars the government has ever spent into existence funding programs, transferring to the states, and paying its own employees, minus

b) All the dollars that the government has taxed away from us, and subsequently annihilated.

(Because governments spend money into existence and tax money out of existence.)

The net of dollars the government spends in a given year minus the dollars the government taxes out of existence that year is called "the national deficit." The total of all those national deficits is called "the national debt." All the dollars in circulation today are the result of this national debt. If the US government didn't have a debt, there would be no dollars in circulation.

The only way to eliminate the national debt is to tax every dollar in circulation out of existence. Because the national debt is "all the dollars the government has ever spent," minus "all the dollars the government has ever taxed." In accounting terms, "The US deficit is the public's credit."

When billionaires like Warren Buffet tell Jesse Eisinger that he doesn't pay tax because "he thinks his money is better spent on charitable works rather than contributing to an insignificant reduction of the deficit," he is, at best, technically wrong about why we tax, and at worst, he's telling a self-serving lie. The US government doesn't need to eliminate its debt. Doing so would be catastrophic. "Retiring the US debt" is the same thing as "retiring the US dollar."

So if the USG isn't taxing to retire its debts, why does it tax? Because when the USG – or any other currency issuer – creates a token, that token is, on its face, useless. If I offered to sell you some "Corycoins," you would quite rightly say that Corycoins have no value and thus you don't need any of them.

For a token to be liquid – for it to be redeemable for valuable things, like labor, goods and services – there needs to be something that someone desires that can be purchased with that token. Remember when Disney issued "Disney dollars" that you could only spend at Disney theme parks? They traded more or less at face value, even outside of Disney parks, because everyone knew someone who was planning a Disney vacation and could make use of those Disney tokens.

But if you go down to a local carny and play skeeball and win a fistful of tickets, you'll find it hard to trade those with anyone outside of the skeeball counter, especially once you leave the carny. There's two reasons for this:

1) The things you can get at the skeeball counter are pretty crappy so most people don't desire them; and ' 2) Most people aren't planning on visiting the carny, so there's no way for them to redeem the skeeball tickets even if they want the stuff behind the counter (this is also why it's hard to sell your Iranian rials if you bring them back to the US – there's not much you can buy in Iran, and even someone you wanted to buy something there, it's really hard for US citizens to get to Iran).

But when a sovereign currency issuer – one with the power of the law behind it – demands a tax denominated in its own currency, they create demand for that token. Everyone desires USD because almost everyone in the USA has to pay taxes in USD to the government every year, or they will go to prison. That fact is why there is such a liquid market for USD. Far more people want USD to pay their taxes than will ever want Disney dollars to spend on Dole Whips, and even if you are hoping to buy a Dole Whip in Fantasyland, that desire is far less important to you than your desire not to go to prison for dodging your taxes.

Even if you're not paying taxes, you know someone who is. The underlying liquidity of the USD is inextricably tied to taxation, and that's the first reason we tax. By issuing a token – the USD – and then laying on a tax that can only be paid in that token (you cannot pay federal income tax in anything except USD – not crypto, not euros, not rials – only USD), the US government creates demand for that token.

And because the US government is the only source of dollars, the US government can purchase anything that is within its sovereign territory. Anything denominated in US dollars is available to the US government: the labor of every US-residing person, the land and resources in US territory, and the goods produced within the US borders. The US doesn't need to tax us to buy these things (remember, it makes new money by typing numbers into a spreadsheet at the Federal Reserve). But it does tax us, and if the taxes it levies don't equal the spending it's making, it also sells us T-bills to make up the shortfall.

So the US government kinda acts like classical physics is true, that is, like it is a household and thus a currency user, and not a currency issuer. If it spends more than it taxes, it "borrows" (issues T-bills) to make up the difference. Why does it do this? To fight inflation.

The US government has no monetary constraints, it can make as many dollars as it cares to (by typing numbers into a spreadsheet). But the US government is fiscally constrained, because it can only buy things that are denominated in US dollars (this is why it's such a big deal that global oil is priced in USD – it means the US government can buy oil from anywhere, not only the USA, just by typing numbers into a spreadsheet).

The supply of dollars is infinite, but the supply of labor and goods denominated in US dollars is finite, and, what's more, the people inside the USA expect to use that labor and goods for their own needs. If the US government issues so many dollars that it can outbid every private construction company for the labor of electricians, bricklayers, crane drivers, etc, and puts them all to work building federal buildings, there will be no private construction.

Indeed, every time the US government bids against the private sector for anything – labor, resources, land, finished goods – the price of that thing goes up. That's one way to get inflation (and it's why inflation hawks are so horny for slashing government spending – to get government bidders out of the auction for goods, services and labor).

But while the supply of goods for sale in US dollars is finite, it's not fixed. If the US government takes away some of the private sector's productive capacity in order to build interstates, train skilled professionals, treat sick people so they can go to work (or at least not burden their working-age relations), etc, then the supply of goods and services denominated in USD goes up, and that makes more fiscal space, meaning the government and the private sector can both consume more of those goods and services and still not bid against one another, thus creating no inflationary pressure.

Thus, taxes create liquidity for US dollars, but they do something else that's really important: they reduce the spending power of the private sector. If the US only ever spent money into existence and never taxed it out of existence, that would create incredible inflation, because the supply of dollars would go up and up and up, while the supply of goods and services you could buy with dollars would grow much more slowly, because the US government wouldn't have the looming threat of taxes with which to coerce us into doing the work to build highways, care for the sick, or teach people how to be doctors, engineers, etc.

Taxes coercively reduce the purchasing power of the private sector (they're a stick). T-bills do the same thing, but voluntarily (they the carrot).

A T-bill is a bargain offered by the US government: "Voluntarily park your money instead of spending it. That will create fiscal space for us to buy things without bidding against you, because it removes your money from circulation temporarily. That means we, the US government, can buy more stuff and use it to increase the amount of goods and services you can buy with your money when the bond matures, while keeping the supply of dollars and the supply of dollar-denominated stuff in rough equilibrium."

So a bond isn't a debt – it's more like a savings account. When you move money from your checking to your savings, you reduce its liquidity, meaning the bank can treat it as a reserve without worrying quite so much about you spending it. In exchange, the bank gives you some interest, as a carrot.

I know, I know, this is a big-ass wall of text. Congrats if you made it this far! But here's the upshot. We should tax billionaires, because it will reduce their economic power and thus their political power.

But we absolutely don't need to tax billionaires to have nice things. For example: the US government could hire every single unemployed person without creating inflationary pressure on wages, because inflation only happens when the US government tries to buy something that the private sector is also trying to buy, bidding up the price. To be "unemployed" is to have labor that the private sector isn't trying to buy. They're synonyms. By definition, the feds could put every unemployed person to work (say, training one another to be teachers, construction workers, etc – and then going out and taking care of the sick, addressing the housing crisis, etc etc) without buying any labor that the private sector is also trying to buy.

What's even more true than this is that our taxes are not going to reduce the national debt. That guest you had who said, "Even if we tax billionaires, we will never pay off the national debt,"" was 100% right, because the national debt equals all the money in circulation.

Which is why that guest was also very, very wrong when she said, "We will have to tax normal people too in order to pay off the debt." We don't have to pay off the debt. We shouldn't pay off the debt. We can't pay off the debt. Paying off the debt is another way of saying "eliminating the dollar."

Taxation isn't a way for the government to pay for things. Taxation is a way to create demand for US dollars, to convince people to sell goods and services to the US government, and to constrain private sector spending, which creates fiscal space for the US government to buy goods and services without bidding up their prices.

And in a "classical physics" sense, all of the preceding is kinda a way of saying, "Taxes pay for government spending." As a rough approximation, you can think of taxes like this and generally not get into trouble.

But when you start to make policy – when you contemplate when, whether, and how much to tax billionaires – you leave behind the crude, high-level approximation and descend into the nitty-gritty world of things as they are, and you need to jettison the convenience of the easy-to-grasp approximation.

If you're interested in learning more about this, you can tune into this TED Talk by Stephanie Kelton, formerly formerly advisor to the Senate Budget Committee chair, now back teaching and researching econ at University of Missouri at Kansas City:

https://www.ted.com/talks/stephanie_kelton_the_big_myth_of_government_deficits?subtitle=en

Stephanie has written a great book about this, The Deficit Myth:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/05/14/everybody-poops/#deficit-myth

There's a really good feature length doc about it too, called "Finding the Money":

https://findingmoneyfilm.com/

If you'd like to read more of my own work on this, here's a column I wrote about the nature of currency in light of Web3, crypto, etc:

https://locusmag.com/2022/09/cory-doctorow-moneylike/

Tor Books as just published two new, free LITTLE BROTHER stories: VIGILANT, about creepy surveillance in distance education; and SPILL, about oil pipelines and indigenous landback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/21/we-can-have-nice-things/#public-funds-not-taxpayer-dollars

#pluralistic #mmt #modern monetary theory #warren buffett #podcasts #pj vogt #billionaires #economics #we can have nice things #taxes #taxing billionaires #the irs files #irs files #jesse eisenger #propublica

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reiderwriter · 1 year ago

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💢 At Each Other's Throats 💢

Spencer Reid x female! Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024

Summary: A previous encounter means that you're not the biggest fan of Spencer Reid, and you go to some extreme lengths to prove that to him.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Dom! Spencer, but not exactly sub reader , degradation (use of whore, slut), semi-public foreplay, arguing as foreplay etc, oral sex (m receiving, f mentions, too), face fucking, rimming, nipple play, rough sex/ rough play, spanking, slapping, spitting, choking, messy sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, mentions of painful sex/ pain play etc. some possible CNC triggers/ phrasing.

A/N: I couldn't find a gift of Spencer being bitchy enough, so everyone, please enjoy Kyle Orfman from Life After Beth. This one was a labour of love, if love was actually hate. It's 2am. This is obviously not edited, and may never be.

Masterlist || Bingo Board

You knew from reputation alone that you would have a hard time working with Spencer Reid. Perhaps it was the slew of child prodigy articles that popped up alongside his name. Maybe it was even just your preconceived notion of what men with three PhDs, a badge, and a gun were like. Maybe it was the fact that he'd written to you after one of your first professional articles was published in The American Journal of Forensic Medicine and Pathology and told you a piece you'd worked on for 18 months was just plain wrong.

Either way, you laid eyes on him, and the hatred was cemented. But fuck was he hot.

He had no clue who you were as his boss introduced you to him, looking between the two of you as if expecting good things to happen. You should've warned him.

“Spencer, this is Y/N. She'll be assisting on a few cases from this month onwards.”

His eyes glazed over as he ran your name through whatever roller index of memories he had stored in there.

“Y/N is a lecturer at the University of Virginia. She's going to be lecturing at the FBI Academy from September onwards-”

“You! You wrote an article, I wrote to you about it, did you get my le-”

“Yes, I got your letter. I believe you called my writing ‘juvenile’ and my thinking ‘wishful,’ and that if I had any actual field experience, I'd slowly understand how many mistakes there were in my writing.”

Agent Hotchner took an almost imperceptible deep breath in, trying to hide the fact that this was all new information to him.

“Well, here I am, Doctor Reid.”

The man in front of you gaped for a moment, letting his mouth hang open, closing after a few seconds only to open again. Perhaps you'd disorganized that index of his. You hoped you'd set the goddamn thing alight.

“Shall we get started?”

To say that you'd gotten off to a bad start was an understatement. Your start had been reversed over by a dump truck with no tires. It had been cemented into the ground with no chance of going anywhere but down into the pits of hell.

Which is, coincidentally, where you found yourself every time you had to engage Spencer Reid in conversation.

Your first impression of his looks - his incredibly good looks - was that he was even better looking when he was pensive, and unhappy, and being bitchy. He was positively climbable when argumentative, and you liked nothing more than ruining his day, if just for the fact that he'd angrily loosen his tie and pop open his top buttons, exposing the pale white of his neck, and his sharp collar bones, perfectly ready for someone to suck and nip at.

He was still an ass, however, and you couldn't bring yourself to sink to those depths.

Four cases in, and you hadn't agreed on one thing. You'd caught a serial arsonist, who he had demanded was most likely an office worker, but you'd countered with college student, and you had prevailed there. 1-0.

Then, unfortunately, you'd lost back to back cases with unsubs in the trucking industry, unfamiliar with and uninterested in the life of the Jack Kerouac type.

You'd even the playing field at last with a child abduction. And although you knew you'd both been keeping score, you were so genuinely happy for this case to be over. A child was safe at home, and you'd worked so well under pressure (something he had assured you would change your view of your personal forensic psychology theories). 2-2.

Of course, those were just the big leagues. You'd fought many petty battles, too, as the war waged.

You'd accidentally stolen his place on the jet, enjoying the long bench seat for a good few naps. A few times, he'd settled in next to you, trying to nudge you out of the chair completely, but you'd held your ground.

“This is my seat. Usually. There are like 10 other places on this jet to sit. Why does it have to be here?” He'd grumbled into your ear as you gently elbowed him in the side, accidentally, of course.

“There aren't assigned seats. Maybe you have control issues, Doctor,” you cut back, trying to avoid speaking too loud to avoid the ire of the group.

While you'd enjoyed bickering with - and intellectually besting - Spencer greatly, it did seem that the sentiment wasn't shared by those around you.

“You can't be serious, right now,” Morgan complained from a seat opposite. “You're seriously fighting over a seat, right now?”

“It's my seat, Derek, come on, you know it's my seat.”

The look returned to Spencer almost had you ashamed of your petty actions.

“I swear they're just taking every advantage to get closer and closer together. Next thing you know, she'll be sitting in his lap,” Emily said from the corner of the plane, so obviously not talking to you that you were almost offended.

“Ah, young infatuation,” Rossi replied, still ignoring you.

Reid slinked just slightly away after that, and you weren't sure if you were more annoyed at the comments themselves or the loss of his annoying companionship.

You wanted him to bother you because it meant you'd succeeded in bothering him.

You'd had more than your fair share of rather explosive arguments as well.

“You can't seriously believe that Thomas Edison did more for the field of engineering than Nikola Tesla,” he'd shouted at you at a bar after a case had landed you in paperwork hell, filling out forms and working into the late hours.

A drink had been suggested, a celebration after solving four straight cases in a row, and you'd gladly taken the chance to unwind.

“Spencer, we're literally sat in a bar decorated with multiple light bulbs. Look, there's one. Another! Astounding. Thank you, Mr Edison.”

“And none of it would be possible without Alternating Current, so yes. Thank you, Mr Tesla.”

Your teammates had long since abandoned you to your petty bickering and fighting amongst yourselves. They'd stopped getting involved when Penelope had tried to mediate your discussion about Doctor Who, which had quickly devolved into New Who vs Old Who.

You didn't even care strongly either way, you just cared that he did. And however he felt, you were sure as hell ready to take up arms against him. Because it was so fuckimg hot watching him lose his shit.

You were a grown woman. You could admit that to yourself. You likely wouldn't admit it to anyone else, even if it was as clear as day that you found him unbearable attractive at times. You sure as hell knew that it wasn't a one-way street, from the way his eyes strolled across your body each morning.

You wondered if there was a section of his brain that was dedicated to memorising everything you'd said, done, and worn since he'd met you. You hoped there was.

On your fifth and final case with the BAU team, you felt unmatched in your annoyance.

You were still drawn with Spencer for case breakthroughs, and you felt the need to beat him once again just to nail the point home. He was just stubborn enough to see a 3-2 win as a landslide victory for himself, though you were absolutely going to frame it that way yourself if you managed to be the one to crack everything.

All sense of teamwork and camaraderie was off the table.

You had a murderer to catch.

Three women, beaten, assaulted, and tied up. He'd shorn their hair but bagged them up so they were unseen. Then he'd placed the bags on display. The unsub was caught between two extremes, hatred of his victims, and gentleness, protecting their dignity in death by covering them up.

Obviously, you and Spencer had to decide which side of the debate you were to land on.

“I think we're dealing with a killer without remorse here. It's easier to explain the covering, the dressing of the women as a ritual rather than guilt.”

He'd finally played his cards, and now it was your turn to passionately wipe them from the table.

“Remorse? He's cut all their hair off and beat half of them so badly we needed dental to identify them. And in case you've forgotten Spencer, half of them are prostitutes.”

“You're saying he can't feel remorse for killing prostitutes?”

“That is not what I'm saying. Don't twist my words."

“Well, of you'd said something that wasn't nonsensical, I'd have a better chance of understanding what the hell you're trying to say!’

With every line you'd stepped closer and closer to one another, like two boxers in a ring, sizing each other up before a fight.

You wanted to take his tie and strangle him with it. You wanted to pull him down for a kiss and force him to shut the hell up.

“Reid, Y/N, both of you take five,” Hotch called sternly from the other side of the room. Guiltily, you both broke away from one another, his hand brushing your side as you took a step back, almost as if he'd meant to grab you before Hotch stepped in.

Probably to remove you from the room.

“Take five?” You said, mustering all the disappointment you could as you silently pleaded to stick around.

“Go back to the motel and get some rest. If you're going to argue like this, I don't need you at the precinct, and I certainly don't need you on my team.”

You blanched at that, almost taken aback by the harsh words as you silently nodded and quietly walked towards the door, letting it shut behind you.

Spencer stayed behind, and though you couldn't hear his arguments, you knew he was attempting to reason with Hotch, as well. It evidently didn't work as he stormed out of the room behind you.

He looked half like a kicked puppy, half like an angry school kid who'd just been scolded by a teacher.

“Don't look at me like that, this is your fault,” you muttered as you walked away from the room.

“What? How is this my fault?”

“If you weren't so goddamn infuriating, we'd be able to get some actual work done.”

You marched off in the direction of the exit, but he caught your shoulder before you made it that far.

“You're blaming me? This is my job, Y/N, not yours. You get to go back to a cushy little office after this is done to teach the people that are going to end up doing the paperwork that consists of only 2% of our job.”

His finger jabbed at your shoulder as he said the words, and you had to resist the temptation to grab it.

“Doesn't feel too good to be criticized when you're just doing your job, huh, Spencer?”

His brows knitted together in a deepened scowl and he took a step forward.

But there were eyes on you, and whatever confrontation this was, you didn't want to act it out in front of an office full of cops.

You turned and walked away again, down a seemingly abandoned hall to what looked to be an empty storage cupboard, flinging the light on and waiting the three seconds it took him to catch up with you.

“What's your problem?” He said, joining you in the cramped closet.

“You! You're the problem! You're infuriating, and annoying, and most important, you're you!” You poked his chest back, harder than he had earlier, quietly reveling in the feel of his body under your fingertip.

“Oh, I'm sorry. Would you like me to be someone different? Someone who worships the ground you walk on?” He said, discovering sarcasm for the first time since you'd been introduced.

“Sure, Spencer, if you can take tour head out of your own ass long enough to worship someone else, then be my guest.”

With a single push he crowded you against the wall, a hand above your head locking you into position as his other hand held your hip, his own hips joining you at the wall as you sucked in a breath.

“You're begging to hear praise, right now, Y/N. Do you even hear yourself?” He asked, whispering the words directly into your ear.

“W-Well, you have me pressed up against the wall like some fucking caveman that needs to breed or die.” You spent half the time you were talking trying to compensate for the stutter, trying not to look weak, that you totally missed the words that came from your own mouth.

“You think I want to have sex with you?” He asked, chuckling awkwardly, even as his hand on your hip began rubbing circles, his head hanging lower, just inches away from your mouths meeting.

“I think you'd love nothing more,” you said, finally lifting your hands to his hair and tucking a lock behind his ears. “Such a shame I won't be crawling into your bed.”

“Is that a challenge?” He asked, and you were taken aback for a few seconds.

“You want me so fucking bad, you're trying to convince yoursel-”

With a swoop, he cut you off, his lips meeting yours. You gasped and allowed his tongue to enter your mouth, but you came to your senses quickly. You kissed back with all the anger of the last month and all the attraction that had built up since you'd joined the team. Your tongue fought his, your hands tangled in his hair as his pulled them out, pinning them against a wall. But you slipped free and grabbed him again, grabbing the tie you'd wanted to choke him with earlier and not letting go.

His lips were soft, and his body felt hot pressed against you, and you hated how good he was at all of this, how your body responded to his, how each time you pulled away it was with a small whimper as you begged for more.

“I knew you wanted me,” he said, between kisses, grabbing your face and tilting it up as he returned his tongue to yours.

“Oh, shut the fuck up, you kissed me first.” His hands trailed up your hips, untucking your shirt as he pushed his hand under, his cold fingers sending a trail of goosebumps along your skin as you shuddered.

“I kissed you because you begged me to,” he said, his fingers caressing the bottom of your chest as he tried to press your bra up further.

You were about to argue back when his lips met yours again, and you were lost in the haze of arousal, leg lifting to his hip to better allow him space to settle against you.

You grew wilder in your passion, neither of you giving in even for one second as you writhed against each other, begging for satisfaction while denying that you'd ever wanted each other in the first place. Just as it became unbearable, your hands slipping to his belt, ready to pull his cock free and take it, the door opened again.

“Reid, Y/N,” Morgan said from the doorway as you hastily jumped away from each other.

You pulled your shirt down quickly, and Spencer stepped behind you, covering up the tent in his pants as you stared guiltily up at Derek Morgan.

“Hotch sent me after you to give you the keys to the SUV,” he grumbled, making no comment on anything that happened.

“We were just, um, we were just-” your brain fought for an excuse, but you'd left your brain behind somewhere between joining the BAU and foreplay with Spencer in a closet, so words escaped you.

“You were just making out in a closet. It's okay, we all know,” Derek said, turning to leave.

You jumped up, indignant now he'd brushed you off, and followed him out of the closet, an equally shocked Spencer trailing behind you.

“What do you mean you all know? All know what?” You said, stomping back into the office.

“That you two are into each other. It's why Hotch sent you away earlier. He didn't want to see the two of you going at it,” he said, pressing the car keys into your hands.

“We are not into each other,” Spencer shouted back at Morgan as he stalked off, and you glared at him to shut his mouth. There was a crowd forming, and you still didn't need that attention. Not when your hair was matted from seven minutes in hell with Spencer or when his hand had, once again, settled on your hip, pulling you closer into him.

“Let's go,” you huffed, and finally left the building with Spencer right behind you.

You didn't talk for the rest of the drive home, even as your brain flooded itself with images of him taking you in the back of the car, your lips around his dick as he drove, him pulling over to bend you over the hood.

You went straight to your separate rooms when you got back to the motel, though you swore that the walls were thin enough that he surely heard you pleasure yourself, fingers sinking into yourself. You weren't sure if he, too, had his hand wrapped around his cock, or if your brain was just now imagining whatever it liked to spur you on.

Imagined or real, his moans were delicious, a maddening mix of frustration, exasperation and desperation, whimpers and groans, and small growls until you yourself were cumming, and letting yourself sleep.

You avoided talking, all talking, until the end of the case, even as your head replayed his infuriating words, his moans and the rustling sound of his fingers pressing your shirt up. You refused to talk to him to give his coworkers the validation of arguing with him once more. You weren't into each other.

You simply wanted to fuck him. You didn't like him as a person otherwise.

In avoiding him, though, the small taste of release you'd sampled in the closet had your softer parts deliriously wanting more. As much as you hated Spencer, you needed him so bad.

You'd given him the cold shoulder but he'd returned it just as quickly, and you were more annoyed not talking to him than you weren't.

Your last case wrapped up, and you decided it was time to give him what he so obviously wanted. A conversation.

You sat yourself right back down in his seat as you got on the jet and laid down, pulling his blanket over yourself as you took up the entire space.

The others shook their heads at you as they walked on, Spencer taking up the rear. His eyes met yours, and he scowled, and you couldn't help but wonder if he'd look like that fucking you, so stern and angry.

You sighed and pushed onto your side as he stood over you.

“That's my seat.”

You smiled in success as you looked over your shoulder.

“I'm tired, I'm going to sleep.”

“But that is my seat-”

“Spencer, you've sat on every seat on this damn plane before, that wasn't your seat until last month, now sit down, shut up and let me rest,” JJ exploded and you suddenly felt bad for drawing him into your argument. Or you did until you sat up a bit, and he sat himself right down where your head had been.

“Spencer!”

“I give up…” JJ groaned from the table seats, pulling headphones over her head and shutting her eyes, and the others made to ignore you similarly.

Not one to be beaten, you pushed the book in his hands off his lap and laid your head down again, now cushioned by his legs.

“What-” his voice squeaked as you shut your eyes, too, and made yourself comfortable. He didn't push you off, or, heaven forbid, start talking to you again. Shockingly, he adjusted to the position quickly and resigned himself to pillow duty for the six hour flight.

You, too, shocked yourself by how fast you fell asleep. You woke up with his hands in your hair, stroking your head as he read, book in one hand, you in the other. His hands felt wonderful, raking through your long locks, brushing each errant hair off your face.

“Spencer?” You said, voice still thick with sleep.

His hand shot away, and you almost regretted not pretending to sleep for longer, sure that he'd have gone on if you hadn't said anything.

You straightened and cleared your own throat as you stretched, sitting quietly as you listened to the flight landing announcement.

“Congrats, Y/N, you've successfully finished your time with the BAU,” Rossi said from his seat opposite you, strapping in for the landing.

“And you haven't been shot, kidnapped, or slapped. That's gotta be a first, right?” Emily joked from the corner.

You smiled quietly as you strapped yourself down, scooting even closer to Spencer now to get your belt fastened.

Still, you couldn't resist the urge to mumble a retort.

“I'm sure Spencer thought about it a few times,” you sighed, a breath of resignation releasing from your lips dramatically.

The others chuckled, but Spencer sat silently next to you until the jet landed.

He stayed quiet as he began to pack his things, but it became clear quickly that he was dragging everything out. As the plane emptied, you shot him a curious look, not daring to speak until you were the last two on the plane.

“You're being slow today.”

“I've never thought about shooting you or kidnapping you,” he said, voice low and quiet, even though you were alone.

“It was a joke, Spencer,” you started, so sick of him taking g everything so seriously. You made to walk past him, but as you did, you felt his hand on your waist pulling you back as another hand came hard and fast at your ass.

“I wasn't finished speaking,” he said as his hand ran over your butt, soothing the pain he'd just delivered. “I have thought about slapping you, though.”

With that he grabbed his bag and stalked off the jet, not bothering to cast another look behind him.

Two could play at that game.

In about the most childish was you could muster, you ran ahead of him, staying three paces directly in front of him as he tried to overtake you. You moved when he moved. You sped up when he sped up. You even stopped a few times, so he'd run into you.

“Y/N, cut it out.”

“Make me,” you said, throwing a withering look over your shoulder.

He didn't wither.

Instead, he grabbed your arm and marched you all the way through the FBI building, down to the parking lot, and into your car. As soon as he had you safely in the driver's seat, he closed the door, pulling off your visitors' pass.

“I'll return this for you, no need for you to dally.”

“Fuck you,” you spat out the window as you started the ignition.

“It's been a pleasure,” he said with a grimace.

“No, it hasn't,” you said back, wondering how long you'd spend in jail of you just mowed him down then and there.

“You’re right. It hasn't,” he said, leaning down and into the window so you were now eye to eye.

“Really? It seems like you got a lot of pleasure out of spanking me earlier. You were certainly experiencing a lot of pleasure when you pushed me up against a wall last week. If it wasn't pleasure, there was definitely something long-”

“Long?” He smirked.

“And hard in your pants.”

He leaned in through the window, his breath fanning against your cheeks as he whispered into your ear.

“That was my gun.”

“And I certainly won't be helping you fire a load,” you said, starting the ignition and pushing him back from the window as you drove away from the FBI and away from Spencer Reid.

It infuriated him that you'd gotten the last word. You'd spent a month with him and hadn't even given him a chance to show off his good qualities, and then you'd left without giving him a chance to prove himself.

And, in doing so, you'd told a blatant lie.

There had been two people in that closet, two people with tongues desperate for contact, eager for battle. You'd been moaning just as much as he had when his hands found your nipples.

But you'd gotten to drive away without listening to his retort, and it was killing him.

He sat and seethed at his desk for a while, waiting for the sense of relief that you were gone to wash over him. This had been what he wanted for weeks. Why was he now so discontent? Why did everything feel wrong?

Abandoning paperwork he knew wouldn't be needed until at least next week, Spencer found your address in the team files, wrote it down, and left his desk.

When you got home, there was nothing waiting for you.

It was annoying. You'd spent the last month constantly on the go, always with more work, more cases, more paperwork. You'd killed any apparent gaps with Spencer.

You could still feel his hands on your ass. You hated to admit it, but in your short acquaintance with Doctor Asshat, you'd grown fond of having him around as eye candy. When he wasn't being annoying (talking, breathing, or generally just being), you could quite happily imagine his head buried between your legs, his tongue lapping up every drop of cum you had to offer.

There were definitely better things he could be doing with his mouth, in any case.

Your body felt hot, itchy, and neglected as you got home, running a shower immediately and stepping in.

The water was hot, and the room steamed up faster than you expected. You washed away the fatigue, and you washed away the dirt of a month of cheap motels..

Just as you were about to wash away the memories of Spencer Reid and his stupidly skilful tongue, the doorbell rang.

It wasn't unusual for you to get visitors at 10 pm, but usually they announced themselves.

You stayed put in the shower. It was probably a package you'd ordered, and it could honestly wait.

The ringing, though, didn't stop. Whoever was at your door was insistent. First, the door rang to the rhythm of jingle bells. Then, they moved on to Fur Elise. When they got to Flight of the Bumblebees Levels of bullshit, you couldn't stand it anymore.

You wrapped a towel around you and pulled the door open wide.

“Sp- mm?” You said, shocked to see him there, but completely floored by his appearance, and more importantly the two hands he'd planted on your cheeks as he pulled you in for a hot, hard, and fast kiss.

You pushed him off with a hard slap to his face, and stalked further into your apartment, knowing he'd follow closely behind.

You heard the door slam shut as he made to grab you again, but you stayed just out of reach.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I came because neither of us will move on without this.”

“Oh, you need me so much you won't be able to move on if you don't fuck me?” You scoffed, expecting a sarcastic answer to a sarcastic question.

“Yes,” he said, and your shock at his earnestness gave him the moment he needed to grab at you again.

This time, though, the tiny towel that had been holding your dignity in place dropped to the floor as Spencer Reid pinned you against the wall.

“Already fucking bare and wet for me, how well-behaved.”

“Go fuck yourself!” you said, even as his hands cupped your breasts, grabbing and pulling both of your nipples, making you moan.

“See, your mouth is being a bitch, but your body is being a whore.”

“Just fuck me won't you? No need to run your mouth.”

“I think we're finally in agreement on something,” he said, pushing you to your knees.

“What? Sp-”

In one quick swoop he released his cock from his pants and wrapped a hand around all of your hair as he slid it down your waiting throat.

As much as you protested, your mouth was wide open, and your hands wrapped around him just as eagerly.

Holding your head still, Spencer began to talk as he fucked your throat.

“There we go. That's exactly how I've needed you for the last month.”

You glared at him as you sank your nails into his thighs, gagging on his cock as he picked up his pace.

With two taps on his leg, you requested a moment, and he quickly pulled his dick out of your mouth.

You coughed quickly, then spat out all of your accumulated drool before looking up at him.

Part of you wanted to force him down next to you, to make him taste your cunt the way you'd thought about earlier. The other part, the larger part, was excited about him using you.

He grabbed his dick and slapped your face with it, returning your earlier hit. He was waiting for you to open up again so he could cum down your throat and leave.

“Open,” he demanded.

You didn't comply, but you stuck out your tongue, lapping at his tip slowly as you sat on your hands. He held his breath as you kissed the underside of his shaft, making his way to his balls. You reached them and finally sucked them into your mouth, making sure to look up and make eye contact with him as you toyed with his private place.

He didn't argue or complain. Instead he fisted a hand into your hair and dragged you to your bedroom.

Divesting himself of his pants and shirt, he sat down and, still on all fours, pushed your face back into his crotch. Perched on the edge of your bed, he held his cock up and served himself to you.

“Well? Get back to it, Y/N.”

Your tongue found his cock first as his hands massaged his balls, playing with them gently as you licked all the way to his tip then buried yourself between his asscheeks. You licked at the skin between his ass and balls, you tasted every inch of him, and you grew angry that he still hadn't done this for you.

Against his wished, you rose and spat on his cock, before squeezing it hard.

“Spencer, are you going to fuck me or are you just going to ruin my makeup?”

“You look prettier with spit coating your face than you've looked with any lipstick,” he said as you pushed him down onto the bed and grabbed his cock.

Straddling his waist, you were surprised he.let you sink down onto his cock without so much as another word. You felt him fill you up, one inch, then another until you sat fully sheathed on top of him.

And then he flipped you over so he was back in control.

“Son of a bitch,” you muttered as he pulled out and thrust back in.

“You wanted me to fuck you, I'm fucking you.”

You wanted to argue but all you could do was moan yes as he set a furious pace, thumb and forefinger pinching your clit as you bucked into him wildly.

You couldn't stand too much of this, knowing that you wanted to at least outlast him. You wanted to tell him how pathetic he was for cumming first, you wanted to gloat that he'd wanted you more, that he couldn't resist breeding your hot wet cunt. You knew any more of this, though, and you would instead be on the receiving end of those same taunts.

Pushing against his chest, you used the last of your strength to flip him over again. He struggled, though, stronger than you were expecting, and you rolled together like that for a few moments.

You almost went crashing to the floor as he fought for control, but he pushed a foot off the bed and held you up with his lower body strength. The new position though forced his cock deeper, to just the right angle, and when he thrust into you again, you did something you'd never done before during sex.

You screamed your pleasure.

Your orgasm ripped through you, as painful as it was pleasurable, and you grabbed Spencer Reid by the neck and forced his tongue to meet yours.

He couldn't complain, too busy moaning about your hot, wet, and now tighter cunt to worry about whether he should be kissing you.

He pulled back and picked his pace right back up, but this time, you resisted less. Hooking a hand under your legs, he pressed your legs up, pushing his stomach and chest down just above your own as he moved slower but harder.

You wondered if this was what other wen talked about when they said they wanted someone to beat their pussy up, to use them until they couldn't stand. You didn't think you could even think about walking again for the next month as he spread your knees apart and pinned them to the bed, unloading his cum as deep inside you as anything had ever been.

You didn't even know your body bent that way.

Panting, he collapsed on top of you and buried his head in your shoulder, mumbling and muttering to himself as he came down from his ecstasy.

He didn't pull out. He barely even softened as he kissed across the expanse of your throat, thrusting shallowly with each nip, until your body couldn't take anymore.

He picked a spot and sucked, and licked and bit and soothed as he ended one round, and began another.

“Spencer-” you said, gasping as he sat up, his cock once again standing at attention, filling you still.

“No. Stop. Don't talk, we're not good when we talk.”

You nodded and pulled him back for another kiss, wrapping a hand around his throat and pressing hard as he moaned and groaned into you.

Still wet and slippery and sensitive from your first attempt, neither of you lasted long, falling to the bed when it was all over with a grunt of overexertion.

“That was…” you said, stopping there, for once totally speechless.

“That was good?” He supplied, but just good wasn't enough.

“Yes,” you agreed, though, not willing to let your cunt rule your mind when around him.

Anymore, at least.

“We should… we should probably never speak again,” you said, even as your hand reached out for his, fingers tangling.

“Of course. I'll leave, and we won't ever speak again,” he said, stroking your hand with his thumb, bringing your clasped hands to his mouth and pressing a kiss to your hand.

“You haven't left yet.”

“I haven't.”

“I have nowhere to be tomorrow,” you said. “You don't…”

“I won't leave yet. We might as well enjoy this,” he said, propping himself up on his elbows as he looked over your naked body.

“We should definitely just get this out of our systems now. What's the harm in that?”

“I agree. If we're committing to a one time thing, we might as well go all in.”

“Exactly,” you said.

“Exactly,” he parrotted.

Exactly a year later, the members of the BAU received invitations in the post to your wedding. Because the both of you had convinced yourself that that one time had never ended and never had need to.

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evediamonte44 · 9 months ago

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What college major is best for you based on you 9th house.

Earth signs:

Capricorn 9th house: dentistry, investing, business, chiropractic studies, finance, engineering, cheif executive ( any major that deals with discipline & structure

Virgo 9th house: Performs well with majors involving acts of service(nursing, social work, psychology, teaching, accounting, dietitians, health care)

Taurus 9th house: Finance, Business, accounting, culinary arts, food science, real estate, agriculture business, investing, design (a calm and stable work environment with assured stability is best).

Air signs:

Gemini 9th house : communications, telecommunications,public administration,public relations, teaching, sales, advertising, art & design( any majors that encourages mental growth & really gets you to socialize & think)

Libra 9th house: law, politics, esthetician/ skin care specialists, real estate,

Aquarius 9th house: Computer science, engineering tech related, space related majors, mechanics.

Water signs:

Cancer 9th house: Real estate, nursing, pediatric care, child psychology, physical therapy, dermatology.

Scorpio 9th house: psychology, anthropology, mortuary services, accounting, finance,cognitive science, Forensics, casino management, banking, criminal studies (does well with deep & taboo majors).

Pisces 9th house: music, astronomy, journalism, film, literature,therapist, environmental science, earth science, biochemistry.

Fire signs:

Aries 9th house: militaristic studies, flight, fire studies(prevention, protection,investigation,) fire fighting, law, business, engineering, entrepreneurship, kinesiology.

Leo 9th house: Acting, Dance, design & applied arts, drama, Film, Art, Hairstyling, advertising, pediatric, teaching, social work, entertainment services.

Sagittarius 9th house: Aviation( flight degrees, philosophy, religious studies. Foreign languages, cultural studies, theology.

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astrotruther · 2 months ago

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🔗 Lilith in the signs

their shadow side ft. songs that clock them too accurately.

♈️ LILITH IN ARIES

Their anger is a reflex, not a choice.

Secretly terrified of being controlled, so they control first—chaotically.

'I don’t hold grudges!' (rewrites history to paint themselves as the wronged party.)

Will fight you over a parking spot.

Smudged eyeliner, broken phone screens, unsent rage drafts.

♉️ LILITH IN TAURUS

Keeps a mental spreadsheet of every favor, compliment, or crumb of attention they’ve ever given.

"I’m not possessive, I just know what’s mine." (stares at you like you’re a straying pet.)

Silent treatment lasts longer than most relationships.

Will spend $200 on a candle to "treat themselves" after you forgot their coffee order once.

Vintage perfume bottles, handwritten lists with aggressive underlining.

♊️ LILITH IN GEMINI

Weaponizes forgetfulness to dodge accountability.

"It’s not lying, it’s narrative improvisation."

Starts debates just to watch you sweat. Changes sides mid-argument for fun.

Ghosts for months, then slides into your DMs like "you up? also, defend this political take."

Screenshots of deleted texts, meme warfare, unhinged Google Docs.

🎵 Who are you to recognize me / You frogs who live up to your name / I hope you die in that well - 땡 (Ddaeng) - BTS

♋️ LILITH IN CANCER

Cooks you soup while listing all the ways you’ve disappointed them.

'I’m fine :)' (cries in the shower for 3 hours because you used a tone.)

Collects your vulnerabilities like seashells—for safekeeping, obviously.

Will remember that thing you said in 2017 and weaponize it during a fight about pizza toppings.

Faded polaroids, saltwater-stained journals, cottagecore revenge plans.

♌️ LILITH IN LEO

Posts a thirst trap after any minor ego bruise. "Ugh, just feeling ugly today :/ (pls argue.)"

"I don’t need attention!" (sets themselves on fire metaphorically until someone notices.)

Secretly wants to be the ex you never get over. Leaves a sweater at your place on purpose.

Harsh flash selfies, dramatic Spotify playlists, Notes app manifestos.

♍️ LILITH IN VIRGO

"I’ll fix you :)" (proceeds to dismantle your entire personality like IKEA furniture.)

Nitpicks their own happiness into oblivion. "This joy is imperfect. I reject it."

Corrects your grammar mid-breakup. "It’s ‘you’re,’ not ‘your’ devastating me."

Neat highlighters, spreadsheets of your flaws, passive-aggressive sticky notes.

♎️ LILITH IN LIBRA

Flirts with the waiter to get free dessert, flirts with you to win an argument.

"I just want peace!" (stirs the pot, then acts shocked when it boils over.)

Dumps you but leaves the door open just enough to keep you orbiting.

Mirror selfies with cryptic captions, Pinterest boards titled "Vibe Shift."

♏️ LILITH IN SCORPIO

Asks invasive questions to "test your loyalty," then punishes you for answering wrong.

"I don’t trust anyone." (makes you earn it via psychological hazing.)

Their silence isn’t peaceful—it’s forensic.

Black candles, redacted text posts, unsent poems in blood-red ink.

♐️ LILITH IN SAGITTARIUS

"I just speak the truth!" (the truth is whatever hurts you most in the moment.)

Claims moral high ground from a moving vehicle.

Will backpack across Asia to avoid processing a breakup.

Blurry travel pics, deleted tweets, vaguebooking about "freedom."

♑️ LILITH IN CAPRICORN

Replaces therapy with productivity. "Can’t cry, I have a 5-year plan."

"I don’t get attached." (secretly mourns you for a decade.)

Rejects you before you can reject them.

Monochrome selfies, LinkedIn hustle posts, locked diaries.

♒️ LILITH IN AQUARIUS

"I don’t care." (organizes your entire life from afar to prove they don’t care.)

Treats love like a sociological experiment. "Fascinating. Now suffer."

Leaves group chats without explanation as a power move.

Glitch art, cryptic polls, unsent rants in the drafts.

♓️ LILITH IN PISCES

Love-bombs you into a daydream, then vanishes when it gets real.

'You misunderstood me :(' (you understood them perfectly—that’s the problem.)

Will forgive a crime but hold a grudge over how you said "good morning" in 2022.

Blurry film photos, deleted love letters, Spotify wrapped full of sadbreakcore.

🎵 In the dream I shortly went into / My agonizing phantom pain is still the same - Singularity - BTS

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delaneydiaries · 2 months ago

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10th House Careers

—Aries in the 10th House

Career Fields: Entrepreneur, athlete, firefighter, military, startup founder, stunt performer, motivational speaker

Vibe: Bold leader. Known for trailblazing, risk-taking, and charging ahead before the rest even have a plan

—Taurus in the 10th House

Career Fields: Finance, real estate, interior design, art dealing, luxury sales, farming, architecture

Vibe: Steady, success-built brick by brick. They create lasting legacies, often in beauty or security.

—Gemini in the 10th House

Career Fields: Writing, journalism, teaching, marketing, social media, podcasting, public relations

Vibe: Talks the talk and walks it too. A chameleon in the professional world.

—Cancer in the 10th House

Career Fields: Social work, therapy, childcare, nursing, hospitality, real estate, psychology, education

Vibe: The caretaker turned boss. Soft leadership with emotional intelligence.

—Leo in the 10th House

Career Fields: Entertainment, performing arts, politics, fashion, leadership, motivational speaking

Vibe: Center stage CEO. Craves recognition and knows how to shine in the public eye.

—Virgo in the 10th House

Career Fields: Healthcare, editing, data analysis, nutrition, teaching, research, administrative work

Vibe: The quiet expert. Precision and service-oriented excellence.

—Libra in the 10th House

Career Fields: Law, design, fashion, diplomacy, HR, beauty industry, art, public relations

Vibe: Polished professionalism. Brings harmony and aesthetics to high places.

—Scorpio in the 10th House

Career Fields: Psychology, investigation, forensics, finance, medicine, occult work, crisis intervention

Vibe: Power behind the curtain. Strategic, intense, and unafraid of the underworld.

—Sagittarius in the 10th House

Career Fields: Travel industry, higher education, publishing, philosophy, law, coaching, politics

Vibe: Globe-trotting guru. Wants to inspire through ideas, experience, and vision.

—Capricorn in the 10th House

Career Fields: Corporate leadership, finance, law, engineering, government, business ownership

Vibe: Born for the boardroom. Ambition + discipline = unstoppable climb.

—Aquarius in the 10th House

Career Fields: Tech, innovation, activism, science, astrology, nonprofit, entertainment, aviation

Vibe: Future-focused rebel. Breaks the mold to build a better one.

—Pisces in the 10th House

Career Fields: Art, film, music, healing arts, spiritual work, therapy, photography, ocean-related work

Vibe: The mystic in a suit. Creative, compassionate, and often guided by a dream or cause.

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im-not-a-ghost · 8 months ago

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FS series : their profession & hobbies

Group 1 - Moonchild Ace of cups, 9 of pentacles, Ace of swords, 6 of wands, Page of swords

As for possible careers, I am picking up on the following elements. This person's career relies on two key factors : communication and sociability. With the two aces, it gives me the feeling of something either being very recent or very novel. So either this person has been doing this job since a short period of time or the job they are doing is something that has emerged within the recent times. So it's not something like being a doctor or a lawyer, as these professions have been existing for a while. With the page of swords, this person's work likely involves the use of technology, especially social media. The 9 of pentacles could show that they are working on their own. Either they are their own boss or their profession requires them to work alone most of the time. The 6 of wands denotes a sense of fame and support from people around them. So it is likely that your person is either well known in their community and appreciated for their work, or they have a huge following and interact with a lot of people. Based on all these information, I am deducting that your FS could work in either one of those positions :

community manager, freelance designer / artist

social media influencer, public speaker, spokesperson for a specific company

therapies that involve unconventional ways of healing (crystal healing, sound baths, ASMR, Reiki...)

being a celebrity of some kind, no matter their field of action (modeling, singing, acting, cooking...)

When it comes to hobbies, this person is definitely into creative activities. They could be into singing, writing, painting among other artistic centers of interest. This person may also enjoy spending time alone journaling, being in nature, exploring new places. They may be into horse riding. They could also enjoy learning and reading. This person may like to be the center of attention. In friend groups, they tend to be the one that makes everyone laugh. They could also enjoy competitive activities and combat sports. They are into self care. As communication seems to be very important to this person, they could also use social media as a way to creatively express themselves outside of their usual train of work. For instance, I'm picking up on someone doing Tiktok trends as a a hobby.

Group 2 - Angel The Sun, 4 of cups, knight of wands, 7 of swords, Hierophant

When it comes to your person's occupation, I get the feeling like their position is an important one within society. It is something that is viewed by society as essential to the community. It could be a profession that is very traditional or that was passed down to them from previous generations. With the Sun and the knight of wands, it feels like your person holds a position of authority or at least a strategical position within an institution that gives them a lot of power in terms of decision making and initiative. They could also have to move around a lot, whether on short or long distances. This is a profession that requires them to be flexible and confident but also to be comfortable with working on their own and thinking for themselves because I feel like this person doesn't get much help in their situation. There may be a lot of weight and responsibilities on their shoulders. With the 7 of swords, this gives me a feeling of secrecy surrounding this person's job. There are a lot of things that they cannot share about their work. Also, the 7 of swords talks about strategic planning. Their job requires a lot of thinking and anticipation. The Hierophant can represent big institutions such as religious groups, political groups, government, the army, the educational system, big companies and so on. Based on all the information provided by the cards, your FS could be working in either one of those fields :

medical field : any type of doctor, psychiatrists, forensics, working in a research lab

political/religious field : public figure working for the government, leader of a political group of any kind, spiritual guru, a person of authority within a religious group

teaching, working in the military, being an undercover agent, working for big companies that play an important role in a country's economy, baking and so on

As for hobbies, this person may enjoy traveling, running, horse riding, solving puzzles and riddles. Playing video games. Learning about other cultures and ethnicities. Learning about religious beliefs. Doing community work, praying. Spending time alone in nature away from civilisation. Camping. Trecking. Mountain climbing. Challenging activities. Being in sunny places overall. Going to exotic and remote places. Learning about History. Visiting museums and ruins. Stalking.

Group 3 - Maidens 6 of wands, Empress, 10 of wands, knight of cups, The World

Your person's occupation feels very busy and hectic. Their job is one that is very active and requires them to travel the world for some, or at least to move around within their country. For this group, it is clear that this person's job revolves around physical appearances, sensuality and promoting a positive image of life, of society, of health. This group has the most potential of having a FS that is famous to some extent. I see that your person has to work with a lot of people and is constantly on the go. They participate to various events, they take on many responsibilities and yet manage to be very successful despite the hectic and sometimes unpredictable conditions of their work. Beauty is a major theme here, as well as reputation. Thus, your FS could be working as an influencer, a model, an artist, a beauty aesthetician, a fashion designer, an event promoter, a journalist. Anything that would require them to be in the public eye and promote a certain life style or certain products. They could also be an entertainer, an athlete that is very present on social media, a personal trainer, a reporter. I'm also picking up on flight attendants, employees from big stores in airports or big hotels. Of course we can't omit everything revolving around the performing arts. Actors, comedians, dancers. We also have possibly strippers, dancers, show hosts and so on. Fitness instructors, yoga teachers. For some, your person could have a personal blog or website like a Patreon or an Only Fans account. They could also be a creator of some kind. Maybe they design their own clothes or jewelry for example. They may own a business revolving around cosmetics or a massage institute. The possibilities are endless. For some of you, I feel like your person could be having several occupations within the same field. For example, think of a model that could also be a fashion designer. Or an actor that could also be directing their own movies.

As for hobbies, again, beauty and physicality seem to be the key themes here. There's also traveling. This person is definitely a foody. They may also enjoy buying clothes, collecting objects. They may like to learn new languages or to cook specialities from various cultures. They could also enjoy doing DIYs. Knitting their own clothes, doing their home decor and so on. This person feels very venusian and earthy in their energy. So anything revolving around pleasure, the body, the earth. Gardening. Taking care of their body by doing gua sha, meditation, yoga. And so on.

#pick a card #love pac

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fromchaostocosmos · 8 months ago

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Why Are Goyim Obsessed With Bad People Being The Fault of The Jews?

How many times have we seen the speculation that certain truly horrific historical people must Jewish based the stringing of threads. Or the that said horrific people are horrific because of the Jews.

How many times have seen Hitler was actually a Jew conspiracy or that Hitler only became the way he did because he denied entry to art school by Jews conspiracy?

Not just with historical figures we all have seen how often it gets mentioned that Roy Cohen, Jew, and they sure do make a point to highlight that Jew part was behind Donald Trump being who he is.

Think about Henry Kissinger and how much him Jewish gets highlighted when talking his influence on Presidents Ford and Nixon, even though he hated being Jewish.

And of course we can not forget the all time go to Christopher Columbus as the secret Jew.

And now that is being reported to be in fact true. Just look at how everyone is reporting it.

Only that is not the case.

The documentary Columbus DNA. His True Origin, broadcast on Spain’s National Holiday suggests that the explorer was not Genoese and Christian but Spanish and Jewish. The absolute protagonist of the documentary, forensic scientist José Antonio Lorente, has not yet published any scientific study to back his claims. The documentary is presented in the style of a reality show in which Lorente systematically discounts other theories, including that Columbus was Castilian, Portuguese, Galician, Mallorcan or a Cagot. It culminates with a scene in which only one possibility remains, the one put forward by architect Francesc Albardaner, author of the book La catalanitat de Colom (or, The Catalonian Origins of Columbus).

But geneticist Antonio Alonso, former chief of the National Institute of Toxicology and Forensic Sciences, is not convinced: “Unfortunately, from the scientific point of view, no assessment can be made after watching the documentary, since it does not provide any data on what has been analyzed. My conclusion is that the documentary Columbus DNA does not show the DNA of Columbus at any given moment and scientists do not know what analysis has been undertaken.”

Forensic anthropologist Miguel Botella, also from the University of Granada, remembers that day in 2003 when he waited for the box containing the supposed bones of Christopher Columbus to be opened. “Everyone expected to be greeted by an intact Columbus, but there were only 150 grams of bone fragments,” he says with a smile. The largest would have been about four centimeters in length.

Lorente then said that he was going to analyze the DNA of the three alleged members of the Columbus family with the help of prestigious geneticists, such as Ángel Carracedo from the University of Santiago de Compostela; and Mark Stoneking, from the Max Planck Institute for Evolutionary Anthropology, in Leipzig, Germany, one of the world’s most prestigious centers for the analysis of ancient DNA. Carracedo recalls that the DNA that reached him was tremendously degraded, and he too distanced himself from the project. Moreover, he refuses to comment on Lorente’s new results until there is a serious scientific study published in a specialized journal. The response of the Max Planck Institute geneticist to questions from EL PAÍS were similar: “I am sorry, my group stopped working on this in 2005 and I have not heard anything about the most recent results,” said Stoneking.

According to geneticist Antonio Alonso, “It is not the done thing for data that the scientific community has not yet endorsed to be presented to society, as it puts the data itself at risk as well as the proposed theory.” Alonso is also surprised by the absence of experts from the U.S. and Australia in the film whose contribution Lorente describes as essential. “Here there is too much protagonism from only one scientist. Neither the Granada team nor the collaborating ancient DNA laboratories in California and Adelaide, which are said to be of great importance in the success of the analyses, appear in the film,” he points out. Recently retired, Alonso is one of Spain’s leading experts in forensic genetics. He worked on the identification of the victims of Madrid’s 11-M terror attacks; on the investigation of dozens of reports of alleged baby thefts; on the recognition of Spanish Civil War victims and even on the attempts to find the remains of the writer Miguel de Cervantes. He claims that the documentary Columbus DNA does not speak to him as a scientist. “We do not know which DNA regions were analyzed, nor the technology used in the analysis, nor the results obtained, which makes it impossible to make a correct assessment of the findings,” he says.

Alonso explains that there are clusters of genetic variants called haplotypes or haplogroups that tend to be inherited together and may be characteristic of certain family lineages, but he adds that they often coincide with those of other groups in historically Jewish or non-Jewish populations. “In any case, having a genealogy, a haplogroup or a haplotype of Jewish or Sephardic ancestry does not call into question Columbus’ birthplace in Genoa as stated by historical sources, nor does it tell us anything about the religious beliefs professed by the generations of relatives close to Columbus,” he says.

Rodrigo Barquera is a Mexican expert in archeogenetics at the Max Planck Institute for Evolutionary Anthropology. Barquera has conducted DNA studies of human remains prior to the arrival of Europeans in America, such as those of children sacrificed by the Maya at Chichén-Itzá in Mexico. The researcher is very critical of the fact the data have been presented via a documentary, and without the backing of a serious scientific article reviewed by independent experts, especially given the enormous interest in the figure of Christopher Columbus and his origins. “Normally, the article is sent to a scientific journal,” he says. “The journal assigns an editor and at least three independent reviewers who rate the paper and decide if it is scientifically valid. If it is, it is published, and then the rest of the scientific community can say whether they agree or not. Putting it on a screen, removed from this process and with all the media focus on it, makes it difficult for the scientific community to say anything about it.”

Antonio Salas heads the Population Genetics in Biomedicine team at Santiago de Compostela’s Health Investigation Institute. “The documentary promised to focus on DNA analysis, as suggested by its title Columbus DNA: His True Origins,” he says. “However, the genetic information it offers is very limited. Only at the end is it mentioned that the only thing that was recovered from the presumed remains of Christopher Columbus was a partial profile of the Y chromosome. The problem is that the Y chromosome represents only a tiny fraction of our DNA and our ancestry.” “The documentary rushes to a conclusion that Christopher Columbus was a Sephardic Jew originally from the Spanish Levant. This hypothesis is, to say the least, surprising: there is no Y chromosome that can be uniquely defined as Sephardic-Jewish,” argues Salas. “Even if all of an individual’s DNA were recovered, it would still be impossible to reach definitive conclusions about his or her exact geographic origin.

So when science seems to much more aligned with Columbus not being why then is everyone reporting him as Jewish. And why do goyim keep blaming every evil deed, every action, every evil choice and every evil person on Jews?

#judenhass #antisemitism #christopher columbus #jumblr

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