#What is the best derivative exchange?

[nigeriabitcoincommunity]

PrimeXBT Review: The Best Platform for Leverage Traders

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[flowerandblood]

Incomprehension (Oneshot)

[ Michael • Gavey x math student • female ]

[ warnings: stalking, angst with comfort, depression ]

[ description: Michael Gavey seems to her to be an alien from another planet, and observing him becomes her daily routine. She decides to cheer him up by secretly putting his favorite Crunchie in his backpack, but one day she is caught red-handed. Requests regarding the character stalking Michael and her comforting him after the situation with Oliver at the bar. ]

I thought I'd post this between chapters of The Fall from the Heavens because I really like it even though there is no smut in the story! This will not affect the order in which new chapters will be published.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

She had no idea how it really started. She had watched him for a long time, knowing only that he was the best. Even though he was a student in the same year as her, equations that took her an hour to solve, he solved in a few minutes.

He worked like a machine: when he stood in front of the big board his face was stony. Unlike her, he wasn't frightened or stressed knowing that the whole room of students was watching him – on the contrary, seeing his lips clamped into a tight line, the wrinkles of concentration on his forehead and his wide-open blue eyes, she had the feeling that he derived satisfaction from it.

He wanted his genius to be admired.

They never exchanged a word with each other – even if she had wanted to, she wouldn't have known how to begin, and seeing his outbursts and behaviour that seemed bizarre to others, to say the least, she wasn't sure it would be worth taking the risk and stepping out of the shadows.

Something about him not knowing she was watching him filled her with peace and contentment.

Her year-mate had lamented to her as they sat in the library that one of the handsome, rich boys from a good house had not responded to her greeting as she passed him in the corridor. She nodded in understanding, looking thoughtfully towards the other table.

She didn't understand why he stayed close to Oliver.

This boy seemed too frisky to her, stretched out, wanting too many things at once. He wanted to be humble and feisty at the same time, lonely and surrounded by a group of friends, appreciated and unappreciated, for someone to comfort him.

He wanted to be noticed while remaining in a state of his own uniqueness.

Unlike him, Michael was authentic.

She showed up in the places he walked because he appeared in them like clockwork. His routine became her routine, allowing her to be a passive observer of his life instead of participating in her own.

She didn't want to return her thoughts again to her body and the emptiness she felt as she lay alone at night, thinking that she hated math.

However, it was the only thing she could do well.

The logic of formulas, the certainty of the fundamental, immutable laws that ruled the solving of equations gave her a sense of security.

Words were a strange and unnatural construct to her, and while her mind was full of thoughts, they did not usually find an outlet beyond the basic phrases that allowed her to turn in the company of others.

It wasn't her nature, but her choice: it seemed to her that every time she tried to explain the state of what was happening inside her, no one could comprehend her, giving her cloying advice she hadn't asked for at all.

She wanted to hear that she didn't need to change, instead however, everyone kept telling her that she should smile more, which she did reluctantly.

Why should she smile if she wasn't happy?

Michael was her opposite, and watching him was like observing a rare animal in the zoo: he was loud and unpredictable, his remarks often lacking tact and sometimes even sense, his chin raised in the confidence that emanated from him.

He was a mean bastard and she knew it, but she couldn't hate him.

To her despair, he seemed to evoke entirely different feelings in her.

His behaviour did not repel her: on the contrary, his explosive, quirky nature aroused a kind of admiration in her, as if he were an alien from another planet, someone who did not really exist.

She watched from the sidelines as Oliver slowly began to make his choice, more and more and more allowing Felix and the rest to absorb him like a large, voracious monsters.

She wasn't sure if the look of disappointment on Michael's face when he waved at him from afar and he didn't respond was a result of his sadness or his anger at having wasted his precious time.

It seemed to her that after he started eating and sitting alone again he quietened down and fell silent, disappearing before her eyes.

One day she got the idea of cheering him up and whenever she had the chance, she would slip a small Crunchie bar into his backpack, usually when he was busy talking to someone or when he put it down on the floor and left it in the corridor while going to the toilet.

She would then sit down next to it and, watching to make sure no one saw, slip the bar into the side pocket of his backpack and return to her seat.

Only twice had she seen his reaction to finding her gift tucked in one of his pockets. He would then look around, and she would lower her gaze, pretending that she was engrossed in a textbook on quantum physics.

She would smile involuntarily when she heard the rustling of the paper after a while, and then look at his thoughtful face, his gaze directed somewhere far away as he bit into the bar as if he were eating a burger.

He was so uncouth, so bright, so unpredictable.

However, her lack of vigilance doomed her: she wanted to do what she always did when she saw that he had thrown his backpack on the ground and headed for one of the rooms, apparently to talk to their professor. As soon as she sat down next to his bag, he came out and looked at her.

She froze, feeling her heart start pounding like crazy, cold sweat running down her back.

She picked herself up and moved to flee, unable to face the shame that spread throughout her body.

"– hey – wait – fuck –" He cursed, wanting to follow her, but remembered his backpack, so retreated to pick it up.

She stepped out into the courtyard, not hearing or seeing anything, blinded by the sun, stunned by the noise in her head and the shrill conviction that some kind of veil had fallen between them.

"– are you deaf? –" She heard him behind her, his large hand grabbing her arm too aggressively and too firmly, turning her away with a sharp, impatient jerk. She stopped, looking with big eyes at his blue checked shirt.

"– do you like rummaging through other people's things? –" He sneered, frustrated and amused at the same time. She simply remained silent, staring dully at the fabric of his shirt, smelling some cheap aftershave and his own scent.

He bowed his head, apparently wanting to meet the gaze of her eyes, but when she noticed his blue irises she turned her face away, quivering in his grasp.

"– you're weird –" He decided and let go of her, stepping around her, making her lower lip start to twitch, burning tears of shame, disappointment and regret gathered under her eyelids, running down her face one by one.

She adjusted the straps of her knapsack on her back and moved ahead on trembling legs wanting to forget it had ever happened.

The next day she felt like throwing up at the thought of their lectures together and ate nothing. She rushed to the classroom at the last minute, walking straight into the room without looking at the people who were waiting for their professor in the corridor.

She sat down in one of the last rows in her seat, far to the side, almost against the wall, where she felt safe.

When she saw out of the corner of her eye his silhouette walking into the hall she froze, lowering her gaze to her fingertips, feeling an uncomfortable constriction in her stomach, trying to blend into the background and not exist.

She shuddered when she noticed that instead of taking his seat in the front row across the hall he moved towards her, walking down the row below her, sitting down opposite her. She swallowed hard when he sat sideways to her, spreading his elbows comfortably on his and her desk, leaning his back against the wall.

"– what's up, little freak? –" He asked simply, tapping his fingers against the top of her table. She looked at him with big eyes, feeling a complete emptiness in her head, having the feeling that she was hot and cold at the same time.

For some reason she wanted to cry again.

Hearing that she didn't answer him he lifted his gaze to her, twisting so that he rested his arms on her desk, correcting his glasses that had slipped off his nose with the index finger of his hand.

"– you've got me used to eating one bar every day and you didn't give me one yesterday – you've ruined my daily routine and it's very fucking annoying, you know? –" He asked with anger and some kind of expectation that completely surprised her, but what she said had nothing to do with his words.

"– I didn't look inside –" She muttered.

"– what? –"

"– I wasn't rummaging through your things –" She explained in a trembling voice feeling that for some reason her eyebrows arched in pain, warm tears one by one began to run down her cheeks again.

"– are you crying? –" He asked in disbelief, wrinkles appeared on his forehead as they always did when someone made him uncomfortable.

"– yes –"

"– because I'm talking to you? –"

"– because I'm ashamed –" She whispered and lowered her gaze, swallowing hard, feeling that it had cost her a lot of strength to choke out these few sentences.

He fell silent for a moment – other students began to sit down around them, their professor announcing that they were about to begin their lecture.

He no longer responded to her words, returning to his previous position, leaning with his back against the wall, one of his hands remaining on her desk. She watched dully as his long fingers beat rhythmically against it, repeating the same movements again and again.

As always, he didn't even open his textbook, didn't write anything down or take notes, memorising everything he heard in his head.

She couldn't afford to do that, so she wrote down meticulously everything their professor spoke about, knowing that it would be one of the topics that would appear on the exam.

As soon as their class was over, she saw his silhouette standing in front of her with the textbook in his hand, which for some reason he carried with him. She packed her bag, pretending she didn't feel his expectant gaze on her.

"I want my Crunchie." He communicated, as if giving her some irrelevant piece of information. She looked at him in disbelief, feeling her lips part involuntarily.

Was he always this cheeky and spiteful?

"Here." He said, pulling a few coins out of his pocket, far too many for one bar, placing them in front of her.

"Just bring it to me." He said impatiently and moved ahead, running down the stairs, correcting his glasses on his nose, disappearing out the door.

She didn't feel like bringing him this fucking bar, but decided she didn't have the strength to stand up to him.

That's why she went to the vending machine standing in the corridor and, using the coins he'd given her, bought him as many bars as the money he'd given her was enough for.

She found him exactly where he always was at this hour, which was in the library.

She knew that he was solving equations not because it was a challenge for him, but because he was terribly bored. She pulled her fabric knapsack off her back and opened it, placing bar after bar on the table top where he sat.

"– I wanted one – are you mad? –"

"– give yourself one each day – you know how to count – have a nice day –"

"– do you have to be so fucking rude? –" He growled with a hint of malice, from which she turned to face him, feeling that for the first time in many years she had lost her temper.

"– take a look at yourself, you spiteful, spoilt brat –" She hissed and froze, wondering how she could have said such a thing, a hot feeling of shame and horror spreading through her stomach.

He stared at her with his lips clenched, furious, his nostrils twitching in an anxious, heavy breath.

She thought he was going to say something, humiliate her again, but they just looked at each other.

"– I – I'm sorry –" She mumbled and turned away, wanting to run away, to sink into the ground, to disappear.

She was sure he would be avoiding her now, telling everyone with amusement what a fucked up and stupid person she was, that she'd stalked him and then started yelling at him in the library.

She knew he commented on various people's behaviour in this way and she was sure he wouldn't spare her.

"– hi, nasty bar slut – what's up? –" He asked, walking up to her as she stood by the notice board, causing her to completely freeze.

"– please, don't call me a nasty slut –" She mumbled, looking at him with big eyes.

He shrugged his shoulders, correcting his glasses on his nose with his index finger, his gaze fixed on the sheets of paper on which the timetables were written.

"– fine – so? –"

She didn't understand what purpose this exchange of words was supposed to serve.

"– and what are you asking? –" She asked uncertainly and he shrugged his shoulders again.

"– I don't know –"

God.

"– are you still ashamed? –"

She swallowed hard, lowering her gaze to her feet, feeling her heart in her throat.

"– yes –"

"– why? –" He asked, as if he didn't understand what her condition was caused by. "– it was pleasant – finding a candy bar in my backpack pocket every day – unexpected – like magic with this dumb tooth fairy –"

She looked at him in disbelief, feeling a strange kind of warmth and relief spread across her chest. She pressed her lips together, adjusting the knapsack on her shoulders.

"– I saw how Oliver treated you – I think I just wanted to comfort you, but I couldn't speak to you like a normal human being –" She choked out finally, feeling that embarrassing sensation of a tightening in her gut again.

He snorted, correcting his glasses on his nose again.

"– sad bullshit is for poets – isn't it? –" He scoffed, still not looking at her, a mischievous grin on his lips.

She wasn't sure she understood him correctly, but it seemed to her that he was trying to tell her that he liked what she was doing in a way.

She shrugged her shoulders.

"– words have never come easily to me, although my head is full of them –"

"– right – I don't have a problem with talking, as long as someone doesn't start tendentious stories about their deep inner life – I don't give a shit, to be honest –"

He said, still avoiding eye contact. He scratched the back of his neck and rubbed the tip of his nose with the top of his hand, doing his best to look anywhere but at her.

"– it seems to me that you don't give a shit about a lot of things –" She stated finally and it was only when he heard this sentence that he looked at her, the intensity of the blue of his irises frightened her.

"– that's true – but that's who I am – I don't pretend to be anyone, unlike those rich losers who haven't earned anything themselves –" He hissed, and she nodded in agreement.

He hummed under his breath, pleased apparently to find in her a listener who didn't question his rather subjective, and therefore, in his mind, sincere judgements.

"– and you? – why do you behave in this way? –" He asked suddenly, and she blinked, feeling her whole body tense up at the urge in some primitive desire to protect herself.

"– what do you mean? –" She asked finally.

"– that whole crying thing of yours –" He said indifferently, once again correcting his glasses with his finger on his nose.

It seemed to her that he was treating her as an equation for which he lacked data, making it impossible for him to solve, much to his natural frustration as a scientist.

She thought she understood him.

"– I don't seem to feel alive – as if I'm a camera recording everything around me – when suddenly someone speaks to me as a person who should be experiencing and thinking something, I feel ashamed, as if someone has caught me in the act –" She choked out with difficulty, thinking in disbelief, terrified, that for the first time she had expressed in words what she was feeling.

She was more afraid than ever of hearing someone's response to what she had said.

He looked at her for a moment, furrowing his brow, as if analysing in his brain the details she had just provided him with.

"– you're lonely –" He stated finally, as if he had at last found a summary of what he thought of her. She pressed her lips together at his words, embarrassed that he had hit the nail on the head.

"– yes –"

"– me too – that's no reason to cry –" He said, shrugging his shoulders, sliding his hands into his trousers in some subconscious gesture of discomfort.

She nodded at his words, feeling her heart pounding hard in her chest.

"– so –" He began, looking at his shoe as if he saw something interesting on it. "– what now? –"

She swallowed hard, raising her eyebrows in surprise.

"– what are you asking? –"

"– me and you – are we mates now? –" He asked, and she involuntarily smiled sincerely for the first time in many years, feeling some pleasant warmth ripple through her lower abdomen.

"– yes –"

[ddarker-dreams]

play wrestling — scaramouche.

Occasionally, there are instances in one’s life where regret embeds itself too deep to safely remove. 

Standing here, your back against the literal and proverbial wall, you’re reacquainted with this humbling reality. A reminder of your mortality. What a delicate substance it is, easily extinguishable like a candle to some. 

Violet eyes piercing enough to sever metal regard you, unamused and faintly malicious. You can’t say you didn’t bring this upon yourself. He pins your wrists above you with one hand. His grip is tight yet falls short of being painful. As much as you want to look away, he won’t permit it, so you maintain unflinching eye contact to prevent ruffling him further. 

“Well?” There’s a sardonic lilt to his voice that makes you shiver. “I’m waiting.” 

You part and close your lips in the same breath. Asking him for clarification won’t do you much good, he delights in watching you piece together his dubious intentions. The satisfaction he derives from it is a bit worrisome. Nonetheless, he offers you one saving grace he’d extend to no one else — patience.

What led up to this unfortunate development? Ah, yes, you saw fit to poke a slumbering beast with a stick. Scaramouche had been too preoccupied to entertain your whims. So, you being the genius that you are, offhandedly remarked that if he didn’t want to wrestle around with you, Tartaglia would certainly be up for it. 

No sooner had his junior Harbinger’s name left your lips did you find yourself pinned against a wall. 

He sighs, long and drawn out, as if you’re the source of all his woes. 

“You’re the one who proposed this insipid game, the least you can do is see it through.” 

One of the best boons from being in Scaramouche’s orbit is how many insults he adds to your vocabulary. His lexicon is vast and impressive. 

Now that you understand what he’s getting at, you push back against your restraints, gauging how effective this method would be. He doesn’t cede any ground. His lithe body belies the immense strength he can wield. He restricts your writhing without overexerting himself in the slightest. Realizing a battle of physical prowess won’t end in your favor, you employ a new tactic. 

The corners of your eyes crinkle as you smile at him softly. 

“Kuni,” you speak the nickname he weakly claims to abhor, “Won’t you go easy on me?” 

The tips of the Harbinger’s ears turn red. He scoffs, turning his head to hide how effortlessly you fluster him. “Of course not. If I always indulged you, you’d become more insufferable than you already are.” 

“That’s rude.” 

“The truth often is.” 

While he’s preoccupied with your exchange, you twist your body, placing your best on the element of surprise. He’d need to quickly readjust the angle at which he’s holding your wrist to stop you. For half a second, you think you have him beat, but he leans in, using his torso to block your escape. A wicked grin spreads on his face at your little underhanded tactic. 

You swallow thickly. 

“Awe, don’t look so defeated! The effort was there,” he snickers. “Maybe next time?” 

“Don’t you have things to do? It’s not like you can hold me here all day, right?” 

He stares at you blankly. 

“... Right?” You repeat, chuckling weakly. 

“Hm, I don’t know. I’m starting to see the appeal to this game of yours. Let’s play a while longer.” 

[strwberryblast]

hey kitten… licks lips… i’m requesting 😝

𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 | Monoma x Fem!Reader

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It was no surprise to anyone that Monoma had a strong dislike for Class 1-A, regularly belittling and taunting them out of spite. You were particularly aware of this, as he seemed to target you the most, often making you his prime victim whenever you were around.

You were certain he had it out for you, but what you didn’t realize was that Monoma actually fallen for you. He thought that by provoking you and drawing your attention, he might get you to notice him in return. After all, any attention, even if it was negative, was still attention in his eyes.

Monoma’s relentless taunting had become a daily routine. As a short-tempered girl, you often fought back against Monoma, resulting in frequent clashes that needed to be separated by Kendo. Despite your best efforts to ignore him, you found it nearly impossible. You wanted nothing more than to wipe that taunting smirk off his face, though he found your face adorable during these exchanges when you’d cross your arms and furrow your brows at him, with an annoyed look etched on your face.

"Haha, why do you look so mad?" Monoma would tease, poking at you with a grin that only seemed to infuriate you more.

You’d groan and shoot him a look of frustration. "Why do you look like that?" you’d retort snarkily, causing him to laugh even harder.

The dynamic between you and Monoma was anything but ordinary. His provocations, though seemingly rooted in rivalry, masked his true feelings for you. Each snide comment and each mocking laugh was, in his twisted way, a way to draw you in. He had hoped that by irritating you, he would get you to notice him more, perhaps even to care about him in some way.

It was a frustrating cycle. Every day, you found yourself caught between your desire to ignore him and the irresistible urge to engage with his provocations. His taunts seemed to hit a nerve, making it all the more difficult to remain indifferent. Kendo, who often found herself playing the role of peacemaker, would regularly step in to defuse the tension between you two, often consisting of her knocking Monoma, apologizing before dragging him away.

Despite the antagonistic interactions, there was an undeniable undercurrent to your exchanges. The way Monoma would focus intently on your reactions, the way he seemed to derive a certain satisfaction from your every response—it completely infuriated you, but part of you found joy in these exchanges, finding the bicker amusing.

As the weeks passed, Monoma’s behavior became more nuanced. While he still taunted you, there was a noticeable shift in his approach. His comments, though still sharp, carried a hint of something else—something that was less about aggravation and more about trying to get under your skin in a way that felt oddly personal.

The more you interacted with him, the more you began to see glimpses of the person behind the mask of hostility. It wasn’t that his behavior became entirely friendly or accommodating, but there was a certain awkward sincerity that started to emerge. He would occasionally offer a begrudging compliment or make an effort to engage with you in a way that was less about confrontation and more about connection.

One afternoon, after another of his usual jabs, Monoma found himself alone, reflecting on his behavior. He had observed you from a distance, noting the way you carried yourself with a resilience that both impressed and frustrated him. It struck him then how much he admired your strength and determination. This realization made him question whether his method of drawing attention was really the best approach.

In a rare moment of introspection, Monoma decided he needed to try a different tactic. He approached you, not with the usual barrage of insults but with a more genuine attempt at conversation. His compliment, though awkwardly phrased, was sincere. “You did well today,” he said, his tone lacking its usual edge.

You were taken aback by the change. It wasn’t the typical antagonism you had come to expect from him. You looked at him with a puzzled expression, trying to reconcile the shift in his demeanor with the usual dynamic between you.

“What did you do to Monoma?” you asked with a smirk, raising an eyebrow and adopting a mock-serious tone. “Did you get a personality transplant or something?”

Monoma blinked at you, clearly caught off guard by your question. He gave you a confused look, as if trying to process whether you were joking or genuinely concerned. “Uh, no? I’m still me. Why do you ask?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his reaction. “Well, it’s just… you’re acting all nice and stuff. Did someone put a spell on you or are you secretly a nice guy now?”

Monoma’s eyes widened slightly, and he scratched his head, looking genuinely puzzled. “I promise, no spells involved. Maybe I just figured out that being less of a jerk might be a good idea.”

You laughed outright at his attempt to explain himself. “Wow, is this a new Monoma era? Should I prepare for world domination or just get used to the idea of you being less insufferable?”

Monoma smirked, letting his teasing behavior peek through. “Hey, don’t get used to it. I might just go back to being a pain in the ass if you start enjoying it too much.”

You shook your head, still smiling. “I’ll take the nice Monoma while I can. It’s a refreshing change of pace.”

Monoma’s smirk softened into a genuine smile. “Good to know. I guess I’ll keep this up then—at least for a little while.”

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please read request rules before requesting ! :)

back to masterlist

[wolfjackle-creates]

Bring Me Home Arc 2 Part 5

It's Wednesday again, you know what that means! I'm going to officially start calling this Arc 2 instead of Chapter 2 because it's too long already and I only *just* get to the plot with the end of this segment.

Story Summary: Tim and Danny are both neglected by parents who care more about their work than their families. They deal with this by spending too much time online and find each other playing MMORPGs. They keep up their friendship as Tim becomes Robin and Danny becomes Phantom and don't bother keeping secrets from each other.

First, Previous

Word Count 1.3k words

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Tim clenched his teeth, but allowed himself to be pulled to the counter where they ordered an obscene amount of food thanks to the appetite of four metas. He insisted on using B’s card to pay for everyone.

Sam didn’t even wait for their food to be ready before she started questioning Conner.

“What do you think of rich people?” she demanded.

“Um… What?” Conner looked to Tim, eyes wide, clearly lost as to what he should answer.

Tim just shrugged.

“What. Do. You. Think of rich people? It’s not a hard question. I’m just trying to gage your actual punkness.”

“I don’t… I mean, Mr. Wayne is cool. I’ve met him a few times and he’s always been nice to me. But Lex Luthor… He’s the worst.” Even now, Conner couldn’t help but shudder when he thought of his creator and Tim scowled into his soda.

“Don’t mince words, Kon,” Tim said. “Luthor should be shot and dropped in the deepest part of the ocean.”

Conner laughed and pointed to Tim. “Yeah, that.”

“Hmmm… It’s a start.” Sam nodded. “Really, there’s only one rule to being punk and everything else derives from that: the man sucks.”

“The man?”

And there it was. Conner was still learning a lot of slang. “She means the people in charge. That you can’t trust the government or people in authority to actually have your best interests at heart or to do the right thing.”

“Oh!” Conner’s eyes lit up in understanding. “Well, obviously! I’ve always had to look after myself. At least until I met you guys.”

Cassie elbowed him. “And now you’re stuck with us for life. You’re ours.”

“Damn right!” Bart held out a fist to Conner who bumped it with his own.

Danny laughed. “You weren’t exaggerating, Secrets. You guys really are ride-or-die.”

Tim looked over his friends and couldn’t hold back a soft smile. “Damn right we are. Just like you three.”

“Well, we know something about the ‘or die,’” said Danny.

Tim rolled his eyes. “You’re worse than Dick.”

Tucker’s mouth was open as he looked between them. “They know?”

“Yeah,” said Danny. “Tim’s known since, like, a week after the accident. And when they came by my house, my parents decided to show off the home defense system. Couldn’t keep it a secret after that.”

Based on Sam’s wince, she knew exactly what the home defense system could do to Danny. Tucker pulled out one of his devices and started typing on it. “Will you finally let me do something about that?”

Danny just rolled his eyes. “I’m fine, Tucker. Sam. Tim. All of you. My parent’s inventions never work right. Or they don’t know how to actually use them. They didn’t think the thermoses worked at first, for God’s sake!”

“Right.” Tucker rolled his eyes. “Because their guns have never worked. Tim, can I have your number and email? Maybe if we all get on him he’ll listen to sense one of these days.”

“Oooh!” Cassie bounced in her seat. “I’ll help! We’ve lots of experience in that with Tim. He’s also the worst at calculating reasonable risks.”

“Great!” Tucker typed her number and email into his PDA and they started setting up group chats. Bart joined in by discussing some of Tim’s more ridiculous civilian escapades.

Tim exchanged a look with Danny. This was so not going to end well.

“Well, while they’re sorting that out, more about punk!” Sam pulled Conner deeper into a conversation about fighting for freedom and liberty and how her ultra recyclo-vegetarianism fit into her beliefs.

Tim sighed and said, “Well, at least they’re getting along?”

Danny groaned and held his head in his hands. “We’re so going to regret introducing them, aren’t we?”

“I already do.”

And then their order was called. Of course Bart was at the counter before any of the rest had even registered it was their order, but Conner and Cassie jumped up to follow and help him carry it.

Sam tried to go help but Tim held out a hand. “They’ve got it, trust me. Having more people will just make it harder for them.”

She still stood, but by the time she turned to help, the others were already returning with hands full of loaded trays. She scowled as she settled back down.

“We would’ve helped,” she said as the others set the food down.

Bart waved her off. “We got it! Sides, most of this is for me, Conner, and Cassie.”

Danny shook his head. “I ordered just as much as you!”

Tucker agreed, “And I ordered almost as much.”

Cassie shrugged as she rooted through bags and grabbed her orders. “Well we got there first. Come on, I’m hungry. Quit arguing and grab your food!”

Danny passed one bag to Sam, “One salad for you.” And a second bag found it’s way in front of Tim. “And a nasty burger for you. You’ll never want to eat a batburger again after this!”

Tim rolled his eyes, but obligingly unwrapped the burger and took a bite. He hummed in appreciation. It really was a solid burger and the sauce was quite good. “I do like it, I’ll give you that. But I still prefer Batburger.”

“Ugh, you’re hopeless!” Turning his back to Tim, Danny addressed the others. “What about you three? Batburger or Nasty Burger?”

Conner shrugged, “This is great, but it’ll always be Batburger for me, too.”

Cassie elbowed him as she finished her bite. “That’s only because you and Tim get midnight burgers there too often and you are mixing up the taste with the memories. These are clearly better.”

Bart had already finished his first burger and was licking his fingers clean. “Yep. These are absolutely better.”

Tim threw an arm around Danny’s shoulders. “Fifty-fifty split! Means we can’t make a decision until you come to Gotham and try one yourself.”

“Oh, that’s what it means, does it? And when do you think I’ll make it to Gotham?”

“Any time you want! You can stay with me. Hell, I’ll even pick you up and bring you there.”

Danny grinned. “If I ever can guarantee a break from ghost attacks, I might take you up on that.”

“Right,” said Sam to Conner. “While they’re flirting”—she expertly ignored Tim and Danny’s spluttered protests—“have you ever tried wearing makeup? I think you’d look killer in eyeliner.”

Meanwhile, Tucker pulled out his PDA and some headphones and started showing a video to Cassie and Bart who shifted to better see the screen.

Tim took a large bite of his burger, unsure what to say to Danny after Sam’s comment.

Danny didn’t seem to have the same reservations and shifted so he could press his shoulder against Tim’s. “Sorry. She and Tuck like to tease me. They’ve been calling you my internet boyfriend for ages.”

That admission made his face heat even more, but Tim tried to shrug it off. “It’s fine.” He knew from Dick that if he continued to protest, everyone would just take it as further confirmation they were right.

Danny shrugged and grabbed another container. Tucker tried to protest, but Danny ignored him. “Here, try a chili cheese fry; they’re great.”

Tim let out a breath and grabbed a fry, getting chili and cheese all over his hands as he did. “Thanks.”

Somehow, the group managed to not get yelled at for an hour as they laughed and joked in the corner booth, but eventually an employee came over to ask if they needed anything else. Danny ordered a milkshake for Jazz, and the group filed out. Night had set in fully while they’d been eating and Tim looked up at the sky. The stars really were much more visible here than in Gotham.

And that was when a large, swirling-green gash opened up in the night sky and dozens of ghosts started pouring through.

-----

Next

Sam is so going to try and radicalize Conner. Tim is just gonna let it happen. At least this radicalization is better than what he'd been exposed to previously.

Tag List Part 1

@gremlin-bot, @bonebrokebuddy, @britcision, @lady-time-lord-, @welcometosasakiworld, @akikkobara, @phoenixdemonqueen, @dolfay, @skulld3mort-1fan, @we-ezer, @markus209, @sjrose1216, @onyxlightdragon, @dragonsrequiem, @jesus-camp-the-sequel, @spidey29phangirl, @kyrianclawraith, @evilminji, @introvert-even-on-the-internet, @emergentpanda-blog, @lexdamo, @v-inari, @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit, @longlivethefallen, @undead-essence, @xye-chan, @liandrin, @seraphinedemort, @kisatamao, @schalensitzbucket, @caelestisdreamer, @runfromthemedic, @nutcase8691, @channajen, @tonicmii, @ambiguouslyominous, @vythika96, @addie-lover-of-stories, @ironicvixen, @violetfox2, @pickleking8, @mysticalcomputerdetective, @ark12, @mygood-bitch99, @squirrel-wolf, @satisfactionbroughtmeback, @sometimesthingsfallapart, @automaticsoulharmony, @d4ydr34min9, @revnantdpxdclover, @midigeria, @raginblastocyst, @feral-bunny31, @lunaria618, @ghostreblogging, @ace-aro-as-shit

[makingspiritualityreal]

12th House - Saturnian Slowness

Planets in the 12th house will naturally have Saturnian characteristics, as Saturn is the Karaka for the 12th House. As a result, if we have natal planets in the 12th house, these areas of our lives will develop extremely slowly. In these areas, we will feel like we are behind the average of our age group, even if the average doesn't mean anything spectacular. Sometimes it's circumstantial, sometimes, it's our understanding of it, mostly it's a mix of both. Naturally, the planet and the sign involved will determine what takes the most time to grow.

Sun in the 12th House - Will be slow to understand their impact in the world. Will be slow to understand what they are building through their actions. Will be slow to build up integrity and accountability for what their behavior caused and will have many regrets as a result. Will be slow to get their affairs in order. Will be slow to appreciate themselves. Will be slow to understand they have a place in this world, no matter how small.

Moon in the 12th House - Will be slow to simply understand oneself. Will be slow to know how they truly feel in the moment. Will be slow in ability to have spontaneous reactions. Will be slow to develop an ego. Will be slow to connect to a life on this Earth. Will take Earthly experiences for granted, and derive wisdom from them slowly.

Mars in the 12th House - Slow to defend their interest and protect their territory. May let a lot of people step over them in early life. Slow to learn how to say no. Slow to learn their dislikes, even slower to express them. Slow to communicate their opinion, because they don't realise what they stand for. Will miss out on a lot of opportunities to make a stand as a result, because they don't understand their own beliefs, and they're slow in forming opinions.

Mercury in the 12th House - Slow to make friends and connections. Slow to develop their intellect, even slower to appreciate it. Slow learning process, may be behind with their knowledge of basic facts. Slow but persistent skill learning. Slow to learn a variety of objective perspectives, as intellectual narrowness was prominent in household. Slow to learn how to discuss using objectivity. Slow to learn how to enter into profitable exchanges, or even if they are in one, they don't understand what they are gaining and giving. Often only appreciate exchanges once they leave their life.

Venus in the 12th House - A good position, as it takes time in life to develop comfort and build solid relationships. Will be slow to have a good social circle, but it will be a quality one. Will have delayed romantic experiences. Will delay their own pleasure and gratification for the best moment, which is why this is a strong placement. Will delay sexual encounters, and avoid unnecessary ones as a result.

Jupiter in the 12th House - Slow to understand a general perspective of the world due to lack of opportunity, that makes their early experience narrow. Was forced to grow in a small minded environment and not given chances to travel and broaden the mind. They become very wise as they grow up, however, being self taught and having a very broad and diverse perspective. Ultimately, the world opens up to them gradually, at its own pace. Slow to believe in the hand of the divine in their life, because it takes so long for everything to finally pay off and make sense for them. Feelings of genuine inspiration and faith are slow to appear and be proven, but solid once discovered.

Saturn in the 12th House - Its natural position, because it embodies a gradual, patient approach to growing up itself. Simply put, the native understands growing up takes time. That makes for a very smooth transition from childhood into adulthood (if no afflictions) and the person is able to grow up and make their mark on the world very naturally without feeling like they need to rush it. They also have amazing precision with their goals and the tenacity to build them up over time.

Rahu in the 12th House - Will be very slow to break out of their comfort zone. If there is a planet attached, it will be greatly delayed, as the North Node brings anxiety of the unknown. Will have a great delay in being able to follow their desires. Will be timid in having an approach that is unfamiliar to them, but most conducive to their growth. An extremely stubborn an impatient person, a walking contradiction that wants to grow but doesn't. They need to be pushed very far to surrender to change, but they are slow to do that too.

Ketu in the 12th House - Another comfortable positions, as they are able to completely surrender to the flow of time. Slowness of life doesn't phase them at all, as they allow it to proceed at its own time, while they pursue the opposite in Rahu instead. The definition of "let go and let God", subconsciously, as they believe things will take care of themselves while they pursue more practical goals. The flaw here is being extremely slow in developing a deeper philosophy of spirituality and analysis. They miss out on more significant conclusions regarding what happened in their life until a very late age, and may accidentally miss out on something deeply important to them as a result, while they were chasing something completely else.

[bessiejoan]

Astrology: Venus and pleasure

When we struggle with or disconnect from Venus, we are not able to enjoy and find pleasure. When Venus is operating in its integrity, this is some of what we experience:

Venus Aries/Mars - ability to enjoy hard, physical work or exercise. They enjoy independence and getting something done. They find excitement and challenges pleasurable.

Venus Taurus - the ability to derive and create pleasure through food, cooking, decor, and objects. Extra sensitive to textures. The ability to make the environment multi-sensory. Venus finds beauty in the act of creation.

Venus Gemini/Mercury - the ability to enjoy poetry, writing, art, and music. They find conversations pleasurable and can be fun for others to talk to.

Venus Caner/Moon - the ability to find enjoyment in their mum or motherhood. They feel the joy of being safe at home. They are extra sensitive to softness. At their best, they find listening to and following their intuition pleasurable.

Venus Leo/Sun - the ability to love the limelight and being the centre of attention. The way others love them can also bring them extra attention in public. They are proud of what they love.

Venus Virgo - they can find enjoyment in looking after themselves and others. They find pleasure is experiencing their health improve. They find pleasure in order and symmetry.

Venus Libra - the ability to find pleasure in shared experiences, in communicating with another, and in an exchange of love. They find joy in justice prevailing and equality. The ability to find beauty in others to equal degree in which they find it in themselves. Relationships are an art form that they continue to learn from.

Venus Scorpio/Pluto - ability to enjoy pain, control, money, hurt. Satisfaction from total dedication and loyalty. At their best, they can find pleasure in transformation and rawness.

Venus Sagittarius/Jupiter - ability to enjoy learning and teaching others. Venus well aspected and appropriately used is moral and honest. When venus operates truthfully here, it is humble because it loves its teachers. The ability to have fun at parties and events.

Venus in Capricorn/Saturn - the ability to find pleasure in hard work, control, and leadership positions. The ability to enjoy the slow process. At their best, being respected and respecting others is pleasure.

Venus in Aquarius/Uranus - the ability to enjoy destruction and change. They find beauty in rebels, punks, and outsiders. They find joy in breaking social norms and shocking conservatives.

Venus in Pisces/Neptune - the ability to find pleasure in drugs and alcohol. When Venus is well aspected here and operating well, it does not need to go to excess. Rather, it can experience intense pleasure through smaller amounts of drugs and alcohol. It is also the ability to find pleasure in spirituality. They find beauty in the mystic and magical. Venus finds limininal places pleasurable.

[twosoulss77]

I don't know who needs to hear this, but you are allowed to have a favourite ship, canon or not, out of a particular show.

Shipping is just a way for artist and what not to explore different dynamics, or even their own. That’s why I believe we should let people enjoy what they like, without forcing our own image of a certain spectrum into them. Especially cause shaming those people, for trying to explore their identity through art, might cause actual harm to them or cause them to not enjoy doing what they like anymore, bc of hateful comments from someone who hides behind a fake identity to hate on a fictional ship, which in itself it’s a very sad and pathetic way to live, but just cause your life is miserable doesn’t mean you need to make others people’s life miserable you know. Go touch Grass when you feel like being a dick!!!

As an AroAce fellow with no desire for a sexual relationship, I applaud and adore all those people making content of my fav husbands, let it be a fics smut or just normal fluff, I love it all SO MUCH Hazbin Hotel ep 5 changed my whole chemistry, and Say what you will about radioapple / appleradio, but I will always be entertained by the idea of Lucifer angrily doing acts of kindness for Alastor because it's what ‘Charlie would want’, and Alastor being a stupid ‘Bambi’ and try to wiggle himself out of it at the beginning, but then realise that he actually doesn’t mind the king of hell company at all. Both slowly growing to actually tolerate and maybe even like being around the other. Exchanging snarky remarks in a more playful way, playing music together, telling dad jokes, hating on the same delusions glorified iPad …like there is so much potential there that it’s crazy how much it pisses people off. It might be cause I am a sucker for Enemies to Friends to Lovers, but by God if that isn’t the best trope.

I know there will be some smart people out there, that are gonna be like “Alastor is ace”, but so are half the people who ship him!!! I hate when people make assumption on us, on who and how we want to love. I might not be interested in participating in sexual stuff myself, but that doesn’t stop me to explore my own ace-spectrum with these two characters, who if they wanted to could and would kiss each other, Cause for one I says so, I have the power to make that happen *insert hysterical laugh* And second It was confirmed that Alastor is a repulsed Ace, but would also be down to date someone if they were strong asf, (Confirmed in a stream, take that with a grain of salt) still makes this ship more possible than others.

Al being Aroace, doesn't mean he can't date or have sex, he's just not all that interested in it, but that could also derive from the fact that he hasn’t found the right person yet, so it doesn’t feel important to him yet. (fun fact aromantic wasn't the part of my struggle accepting that I was aroace it was actually accepting I was ace bc of my hyper sexual tendencies)

Also Alastor being aro just makes radioapple infinitely more funny to me, or any relationship with him for that matter. He is just this 7 feet tall demon with zero interest in romance, but always managing to find himself having beef with someone, possibly a guy, and act like he is either about to kiss or kill him XD

I really needed to get this off my chest and I absolutely mean every thing I said in here. Everyone has their own likes and dislikes, but you'll be surprised to see how much happier you will be when you stop focusing on what other people are doing and instead focus on what you like.

Thanks for listening 😊💜

[mcytrecursive]

Rules and FAQ

Schedule (All dates are 11:59pm EST):

Discord Opens: Jan 26

Sign-ups Open: Jan 26

Nominations Open: Jan 26

Nominations Close: Feb 21

Sign-ups Close: Feb 24

Assignments Out By: March 2

Final Date for Fics to be In: March 30

Work Reveals (works are anon): April 6

Writer Reveals (anon lifts): April 13

What is this event?

This is a fandom gift exchange for recursive fic— fic of fic— within the MCYT fandom. We are also allowing recursive art and web weaves and podfic— art, web weaves, and podfic inspired by fic, art, podfic, and other web weaves!

Gift Minimums:

Fic: 1k words

Art: 1 drawing, completed to a standard you would normally post as “finished”

Web Weave: a compilation or collage with a minimum of 10 elements, appropriately sourced. 

Podfic: Audio or multi-voice audio of a minimum of 1k words or the complete work, whichever is shorter, edited to whatever level you normally post as finished.

Rules for Participating: 

Must join our Discord for communication, and follow all discord rules.

Must do your best to produce a gift that meets the minimum requirements within the time of the event.

Must DM a mod ASAP if you don’t think you’ll get your gift out on time or at all, or you want to withdraw

Must request a gift (offer prompts) from at least three source materials and offer to create around at least four source materials.

Any under-18 persons found requesting or offering NSFW content will be banned from this and all future iterations of the exchange.

Because of Tumblr, Ao3 and Discord TOS, you must be 13 or older to participate.

Rules for Creating: 

Your gift doesn’t have to contain only the characters requested by your giftee, but it does have to centre on at least one requested character. 

Any shipping must be kept to PG-13 levels or below unless your recipient specifically requested NSFW. Any non-requested NSFW is grounds for a ban from this and all future iterations of the exchange. 

Respect your giftee's DNW (Do Not Want) list. Any gift found to be in violation of a reasonable DNW is grounds for a ban from future iterations of the exchange.

Dark or Violent themes must be tagged appropriately.

Major Archive Warnings must be opted into. Any non-requested major archive warnings are grounds from a ban from this and all future iterations of the exchange.

Prepare a gift in good faith, attempting to make something your recipient will like. Mods reserve the right to ban people for being an asshole.

No AI-created content.

Links:

Ao3: [here] A03 exchange signup instructions: [here] Apply for an Ao3 account (currently a 10-day waiting list): [here] Discord: [Here] Nomination Form: [here] Database of Nominated works: [non-explicit] [explicit] Blanket Permission Statement Database: [link]

If you are not already there, you can add yourself to the Blanket Permission Statement Database here! Just scroll to the bottom and enter the link to your permission statement.

FAQ:

How does a fandom gift exchange work?

People fill out a signup where they offer prompts for gifts they would like to receive, then also offer types of gifts they are willing to make, and then they're matched on Ao3 so everyone gets an assignment to make a gift for another person. All these gifts go into a big collection, and they're revealed when everyone participating has a gift.

How will this event work?

This is a Derivative Works recursive exchange. People nominate fics or art that either have a blanket permission statement (fun database here), or a comment from the author saying that works inspired by their work is okay. Then each work is entered into the official tag set as its own thing you can request. People sign up as they would for a normal exchange, with up to ten of these fic fandoms as being something you are either offering to write for or requesting for your own gift. Once matched, you then write a side story, prequel, sequel, AU, or something else within the universe of that fic. 

For example, I had the idea that I really want to see a side story about Etho and Iskall in This Is About A Stuffed Bird, by Bee_4. I will sign up and request that fic as one of my fandoms (and others, you need a minimum of three fandoms), and meanwhile I’m offering to write people’s requests for This Is About A Stuffed Bird by Bee_4, the trinkets and the treasures we brought back from the crusades by Odaigahara, The Extradition by Onelituli, or The Dollhouse by MawoftheMagnetar.

I will be matched during matching week, we'll have our creation period like is usual for an exchange, and when I post my gift I will be using both the "gift to" function (to my recipient) and the "inspired by" function (to whoever's fic I'm writing something inspired by). Once posted, there will be an anonymous period of the exchange where I get a mystery gift and my gifter gets a gift that is on anon as well, and then all will be revealed a week later.

The author I want to make fic for isn't on the database, what do I do?

In that case, you would check to see if the author has a listed permission statement that isn't in the database (this is normally under the "bio" section of an author's profile on Ao3). If they do not have one, check if they have a listed way to contact them, or comment (politely) on the fic that you're interested in, asking permission to enter the work in an exchange making works inspired by mcyt art (see template below).

To be accepted as a source material for this exchange, you would need either a blanket permission statement that is unlimited—"feel free to make any fic you want"—or limited in a way that is simple for the mod team to check on. "No NSFW fic" is simple to check, "No bad dad Phil" is not. You may ask this only in a polite way, and do not show up asking them in four different venues. We do not want this to turn into harassment of authors.

If there are multiple authors for a work, you need a permission statement from each one.

Orphaned works, or deleted-with-permission-to-repost works will be considered to have given permission for recursive work, as the author has given up the fic. Anonymous fics still require author permission, as the author retains creative control of the work.

What do I say to ask permission?

This is just an example, but feel free to say something along the lines of: "Hey, I really like your [fic/art]! I’m going to be participating in an exchange where people make fic and art inspired by MCYT works, and I was wondering if you are okay with people making fic/art/web weaves/other fanworks based on your [fic/art]?"

How many fandoms/fics do I need to sign up?

To increase matching possibilities, we will be using Yuletide rules for sign up. You must request a minimum of three unique source materials, and you must offer a minimum of four unique source materials. "Source Materials" here refers to fics, art, or web weaves. Your source materials do not need to come from different originating servers.

You must make sure that you request at least two source materials that are not created by you, and offer at least three source materials that are not created by you.

What happens if I don't match to anyone?

If there is no one who you can create for, you will be offered the opportunity to add more source materials to your sign-up. If you do not wish to add any more fics or art to your signup, you will not be able to participate in the exchange, and your signup will be deleted. It's a good idea to keep an eye on the sign-ups during the sign-up period, to make sure that you're matchable to someone's requests!

If there is no one who can create for you, you will go up as an Initial Pinch Hit, and somone will volunteer to make a fic or art for you.

What if no one knows about the source material (art/fic) that I want to nominate?

There will be a promo channel in the discord! You can make your pitch for why your source material is the best and everyone should love it there.

I can’t finish my gift in time, now what?

No worries, life happens. The important thing is that you notify the mods as soon as possible, so that a Pinch Hitter can be assigned. A Pinch Hitter is an artist or writer who steps in to save the day and make a new gift on an accelerated timeline. 

I want to be a pinch hitter!

First of all, thank you. I hope you're ready to speed-read some fic, and then create like the wind. There will be a role in the discord that you can assign, and then you'll be pinged with a pinch hit request when they go out!

What if no one signs up to make a gift for me when I go up as a Pinch Hit?

The exchange will not open until everyone has a gift. If Pinch Hits are not picked up until the deadline, the work reveals will be delayed until someone is able to pick up the PInch Hit. This will continue for as long as necessary until everyone has a gift.

Is shipping allowed?

Yes. Because there is no broad fandom-wide consensus about how Creator boundaries are to be enforced in specific cases (whether it's okay to write beeduo as /r or /p is an obvious one, or whether it’s permitted to ship Joel Smallishbeans) or between specific fandoms (Lifesteal approach to shipping and boundaries is different from HBG is different from DSMP), the mods will not be policing any specific understanding of boundaries across the event. The event will operate on Don't Like Don't Read, in that everyone will have the chance to opt in for themselves as to if they want certain relationships to be written as platonic or romantic, and NSFW will have to be specifically opted into. Delivering un-asked for shipping or NSFW is grounds for a ban from the event.  Is NSFW allowed? 

Yes. NSFW works are allowed, but must be specifically opted into. No one under 18 is permitted to opt into NSFW and attempts to do so will be grounds for a ban from this event and anywhere else the mod team touches. For the comfort of the greatest number of participants, anything with the tags Underage or Incest will not be permitted to be part of the event. 

Is RPF allowed?

This is intended to be a character-focused exchange, but a lot of older works in this fandom are still tagged as Video Blogging RPF, Minecraft, or are wrangled into VB RPF. Because of this, and because with some duos or groups the line between RPF and RP is fuzzy anyways, the mod team will not be legislating what counts as MCYT for the purposes of this exchange. We will be taking your word for it. 

Is Dark/Violent content allowed?

Yes. For many of us, the source material that originally drew us to the fandom includes major character death, torture, murder-for-hire, death games, public executions and more. The fanfiction that arose from the source material follows in that trend. We will allow dark content to be part of the event, but it must be tagged for. 

We also ask that participants use best judgement in delivering commonly triggering topics un-asked for. If a triggering topic is a canonical element in a work, we will assume that to be a tacit opt-in. We reserve the right to ban people at mod's discretion for delivering unrequested triggering content, under the "do not be an asshole" rule.

What sort of triggering topics should be avoided?

We do not want to put down a list because any list would naturally be non-exhaustives, so we are primarily asking people to use their best judgement. If a trope involves extreme physical violence, violation of consent, dehumanization, extreme terror or fear, body horror, or death, then it should probably not be included unless specifically asked for or checked with your recipient via the mods.

Note that if a triggering topic is a canonical element in a work— for example suicide, child death, or addiction— we will assume that to be a tacit opt-in unless the person specifies differently.

Are major archive warnings (noncon/underage/graphic depictions of violence/MCD) allowed?

Aside from the content rules governing NSFW (no underage or incest, for the comfort of the greatest number of participants), major archive warnings are allowed. Depictions of real life horrors such as genocide and slavery are not-uncommon motifs in MCYT fics, and the mod team is not interested in legislating which types of horrors, griefs or abuses are inherently worse than others and are therefore off-limits. Because holding writing to a quality standard or saying only survivors can write atrocities is unworkable from a moderation standpoint, the three mentioned major archive warnings (MCD, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Noncon), are permitted to be included.

However, Major Archive Warnings must be explicitly opted into on Ao3, and delivering un-asked for major archive warnings is grounds for a ban from this event. The mod team reserves the right to warn other mod teams on both the MCYT and Multi-fandom side about your bad behaviour.

Is AI content permitted?

No. Specifically, what is colloquially referred to as “AI” content— large language models such as Chat GPT or Midjourney that have been trained on Common Crawl’s unsourced art and writing— is not permitted. Machine-assisted writing or art helpers such as spell check or grammarly are fine. 

What is a DNW?

All participants will have the opportunity to fill out a DNW, which stands for Do Not Want. This is anything that has the potential to ruin a gift for you, and is where you opt out of content that would trigger, squick, or just displease you. DNWs must be phrased politely, (so no "No foster aus because they suck and you suck if you like them"), and they must be reasonable, (so no attempting to box someone into a specific gift, i.e. "DNW anything that isn't a space au where Tommy is a dinosaur-hybrid and Tubbo is a ghost bee and they rampage through the living ship named Las Nevadas"), and they must be specific and clear, (so no “no triggering content"), but they can be as petty (disliking specific art styles) or as broad-reaching (no modern aus, no specific ships, no crossovers with specific servers or fics) as you like. Deliberately breaking someone's DNW is grounds for a ban from the exchange. 

How do I sign up/nominate?

We made specific posts for this, as it's a bit complicated! You can check them out here.

How many source materials can I nominate?

You can nominate a maximum of 10 source materials!

My recipient requested 10 things, but I've only read four of them. How many gifts do I have to make?

You only have to make ONE gift, no matter how many things you matched on. Match on ten source materials— you make one gift. Match on one source material— you make one gift.

Can I do the exchange anonymously?

While your offers remain private, and you can always give a gift on anon, your requests will be public, and you will receive a gift publically. We would recommend that you not request anything that you do not want publically associated with your account, or use a sock account if you're concerned. Moreover, you must publicly join the discord, so this is not the exchange to participate in if you want to be 100% anonymous.

Can I make more than one gift?

If you wish to sign up twice, you will need two Ao3 accounts, and you will need to change your discord name to indicate that both accounts are yours, so we know we have you in the discord. You'll also need to inform the mods that you are using a sock account, so we can make sure that we do not match you to yourself.

If you do not want to go through all of that hassle, you are still welcome to make as many gifts as you want, and give them as treats! Treats are extra gifts— on top of your normal assignment— that you manually address to the recipient and manually add to the collection, and they'll be revealed along with all the normal gifts when we do the grand reveal. Treats are very welcome!

[erikahenningsen]

rejanis #62 if you feel like it :)

62. “Do you have a ride home?”

Janis checks the weather forecast every day when she wakes up. And this morning, nowhere did it say anything about rain. But, well... the forecast was wrong.

Because it's pouring. An absolute deluge, its tap-tap-tap against the window like an ASMR get-ready-with-me video.

And Janis doesn't have an umbrella.

Not for the first time, Janis curses her parents for buying a house too close to the school for a school bus stop but far enough that she knows she's going to be dripping-wet-squishy-shoes soaked long before she gets home.

She's just crossed through the parking lot and is turning onto the sidewalk along the street when a Jeep rolls to a stop in front of her. Janis wipes back the hair plastered to her forehead with rainwater and squints as the window rolls down.

It's Regina.

"Do you have a ride home?" Regina asks.

"No, but I was due for a shower anyway, so..." Janis says.

Regina rolls her eyes and hits the unlock button on her door. "Get in the car."

"If you're kidnapping me you could at least say please," Janis says, because she has never outgrown the part of her that derives pleasure from goading Regina.

Regina stares at her for a moment before starting to roll the window back up.

"Wait, no," Janis caves, jumping forward and opening the car door before Regina can lock it again.

Regina's smirk turns to mild horror as she takes in just how drenched Janis is—and how much water is now seeping into the car seat and carpet.

"It's raining," Janis says unnecessarily.

"Thank you for the update." Regina puts the car into drive and pulls away from the curb.

Janis tries to remember the last time she was in Regina's car. Well—in a car with Regina, considering it was probably in middle school. She pulls down the sun visor to survey the damage to her makeup in the mirror.

"You look like a raccoon," Regina tells her, and... she's kind of right. "Here."

Janis accepts the napkin Regina pulls from the cup holder in the car door and wipes away the mascara and eyeliner as best she can.

They're stopped at a red light when Janis notices Regina looking at her.

"What?" Janis asks.

Regina quickly returns her eyes to the road. "Nothing."

Janis feels a little prickle of self-consciousness, something she seemingly never outgrew—craving Regina's approval, unsure if the lingering stares meant that Regina was silently assessing her or admiring her.

The car stops and it takes Janis a moment to realize they're in her driveway.

"You remember where I live?" Janis asks. She's not sure why that surprises her. She could get to Regina's house from her own with her eyes closed.

Regina doesn't answer, actually looking a little embarrassed. Maybe that's what prompts Janis to ask her next question.

"Do you want to come in?"

"Oh, uh..." Regina says, eyes wide. "Well..."

"You don't have to," Janis adds quickly when Regina can't seem to produce an answer. She feels kind of stupid for asking.

"I just... don't think your parents would be too thrilled to see me," Regina says quietly, and Janis knows she's right. "But maybe you could come over to my house sometime?"

Janis remembers Regina's cavernous house, feeling more like a staged showroom than a home, how lonely inside it Regina sometimes seemed, even with her mom constantly barging into the room. She wonders if anyone has come over to hang out with Regina since the bus.

"Sure," Janis says, and she means it. "When I don't look like you just pulled me out of a pond."

Regina snorts. "That would probably be best."

For the first time in years, they exchange smiles.

[sabakos]

The neat thing about mathematics is that you learn how to work things out for yourself, and in some sense this is a necessary skill to develop if you really want to understand any higher math; if you work through the problem sets in most undergraduate mathematics textbooks on your own, you'll not only know but also "understand" the content, in a way you wouldn't if you only read those books but didn't do any of the problems.

And what I'm calling "understanding" in this context is a more secure and accessible form of knowledge than most other forms of knowledge. You could learn that all of the other math students you had ever met were simply copying the instructor's solutions manual for each textbook, that your professors had all done the same in their time, that even the textbook author themself relied on someone else's solutions, and that none of them really understood the material in the same way that you did, and it wouldn't threaten the security of your own knowledge that you have understood mathematics. Even if you ever had any reason to doubt your memories or your senses, you still could rederive the mathematics yourself to make sure you still understood, while all of your memories of childhood would rely on the testimony of others or sense data on the external world. You could even begin to doubt the existence of the external world before you doubted your own understanding.

But we run into a new epistemic difficulty at this point. Suppose that all of your mathematics classmates really are frauds and charlatans. How could you, as someone who has truly understood mathematics, convince all of them that they hadn't? They don't understand, so they can't understand what they're missing. Some of them might just be willing to try deriving proofs for themselves if you ask them nicely enough, but it's not clear that there's any way you could win them over with rational arguments in order to get them to do so. Instead, you'd need to appeal to their irrationality, and find a way to get them to believe that it was worth their time to try, that they would be risking very little in exchange for something they'll only appreciate the value of once they've finished. Maybe some puzzles or riddles that throw them off balance, that create a need to seek more understanding. You might be lucky enough that some of them believe you.

So if all has gone well, you now have initiates, and you've all decided that together you want to restore the field of mathematics to its former glory, and purge the corruption of rote memorization from the academy. You'll learn quickly that much like you can verify your own understanding, it's also possible for you to identify those who have really understood math - you can present them with a proof for something they've never seen before, that's related to something they have seen, and they can work it out to a state that you or any initiate who truly understands can identify. And happily, they can use these methods of proof on each other. And so you can spread your knowledge and understanding via those who have also understood.

But you haven't gotten out of the woods yet, and your difficulty is not just that you're outnumbered. Once you've made a bit of a name for yourself and attracted a following, there will be other initiates who seek fame and glory, but yet can't or won't understand anything, and are no better off than before you met them despite your best efforts- they can't prove new theorems they haven't seen, they can't confirm the validity of others proofs, and they can't devise questions that others will be able to solve. Often these others will insist that they really are taking the same steps as everyone else, from their perspective, the rest of you all must be lying, or else something about them must be broken. Neither possibility will make them happy, and for the rest of it's existence your movement's survival depends on filtering these people off. If these sorts figure out how to fool the rest of you, or they go out in your name claiming to teach "real" mathematics, all will be lost, and your rare understanding will be diluted by their more common lack of it.

Unfortunately, at some point you will die, and everything you understand for yourself will be lost to the world. Your initiates who have truly understood you will die as well, and those they have taught will, in turn, also die. There are no immortal guardians who will safeguard the true understanding of mathematics, and it cannot be written down, only experienced directly, or it would have been written down before. Those who have understood this must always continue to spread understanding to those who might understand, and each generation of them must combat the threat of those others who have not, or else all may again be lost and forgotten.

But yet, there is one last glimmer of hope; though what you have found may one day be lost again, what has been lost may yet again be found, else you would not have been able to find it. Perhaps this is enough to hold onto.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

No True Apple User (transcript of a Twitter exchange)

Benedict Evans: Different people prefer different trade-offs. The important thing is to understand that these are mostly trade-offs - and about one and a half billion people like the trade-offs that Apple makes

My reply:

Before Apple offered one-click opt-out from FB tracking in iOS, it could have been argued that Apple users like Facebook's "trade-off." After all, they all signed up for FB and kept using it. But once there was an opt-out for surveillance, >96% of Apple users took it (and FB lost $10B in the first year). 

FB offered a bargain, and Apple helped its users make a counteroffer. That's a common practice in tech, as old as the first third-party drive for an IBM 360.

This practice (“adversarial interoperability“), greatly benefited Apple in the past, e.g., when Apple reverse-engineered MS Office's file-formats for  iWork, reversing losses due to the poor compatibility between Win Offce and Mac Office.

MS would have argued that the legions of users defecting from MacOS for Windows in order to enjoy high-reliabliity interchange between Office docs preferred that trade-off - yes, users liked MacOS, but they liked reliable collaboration more.

iWork revealed this trade-off for the false choice it was: you could use MacOS and you could reliably exchange files with Windows users. 

In other words, you could bargain.

Trade-offs without bargaining don't reveal users' preferences (what they'd like in the best of all worlds). Rather, they tell us about users' tolerance. 

Users would tolerate Windows as a condition for reliable collaboration. They'd prefer MacOS and reliable collaboration.

iOS  users would tolerate Facebook spying on them via their iPhones, but they'd prefer to use Facebook on iOS without being spied upon.

Which explains why FB has gone to such enormous lengths to present take-it-or-leave offers to its users - it knows that the company's preferences are totally disconnected from its customers' preferences.

FB would prefer to spy on you with every hour that god sends, and make this surveillance a precondition for participating in the community, family life, civics, and commerce that lives inside its walled garden.

FB users would like to do all those things...and not be spied upon.

And because it is always technically possible to make tracker-blockers, ad-blockers, alternative clients, etc, the only way FB can win that  contest is to make it illegal for users to get their way.

For example, FB can entice, funnel or coerce its users into primarily interacting with its services via apps. Because apps are encrypted, they can't be lawfully reverse-engineered and altered without risking "anti circumvention" liability.

You can make an ad-blocker for the web because you don't need to bypass a technical protection measure to block web-ads. But do the same thing for apps and you risk a 5-year prison sentence and a $500k fine.

Apple is an enthusiastic proponent of this regime, because  it's the primary means by which the firm prevents third parties from offering rival app stores.

Apple's argument is that having a legal right to decide which software its customers can install allows it to act as its customers' proxy. If Apple can override the choices made by its users, it can prevent them from making bad choices.

Moreover, Apple can bargain with large firms whose take-it-or-leave-it offers would otherwise impose hardship on its users. An individual user who objects to FB spying is out of luck.

But Apple can say to FB, "We have blocked spying, and your only choice is to leave the app store altogether, or suck it up." In other words, Apple can give FB the same take-it-or-leave-it treatment that FB imposes on 3b users, which is a delicious irony.

Hearing FB squeal that Apple is exercising its market power - derived from the fact that billions of people can only be reached by subjecting oneself to the conditions of Apple's walled garden - to harm FB's interests is such a sweet bit of comeuppance.

But the sweetness has a bitter core, because Apple also spies on iOS users, even those who opt out of app-based surveillance, in exactly the same way that FB does, for exactly the same purpose (ad targeting) - and they deceive their users about it.

And, like FB, Apple devotes enormous lobbying efforts and legal resources to increase the legal risk of allowing users to express their preferences (as opposed to just their tolerance) for Apple's trade-offs.

If Apple users preferred to be shut out of  shopping around for app stores, or if they preferred to only get their devices repaired at official, Apple-sanctioned repair depots, or if they preferred to be blocked from using refurb parts, Apple wouldn't have to do anything. It could save millions of dollars in engineering and legal bills.

 But Apple behaves as if it believes its users strongly prefer to have more choice, even if they'll tolerate less choice.

Now, there's a "No true Apple user" rejoinder to this argument: "You knew when you bought an iPhone that it came shackled to Apple's commercial imperatives, which could be enforced through legal action by wielding the DMCA, patent, copyright, CFAA, tortious interference, etc. If you didn't like it, you could have bought an Android device, or no device at all.“ 

But that same argument can (and was) made by FB, to Apple: 

"Those users for whom you blocked our surveillance knew the deal: sign up for FB, get spied on. No one forces anyone to sign up for FB. You can use Mastodon. Or you can just use FB on the web only, and run tracker/ad blockers. They may have preferred surveillance-free socializing, but they tolerated the 'trade-off' of being spied on."

Apple has repeatedly demonstrated that it is an imperfect proxy for its customers' interests. And Apple behaves as if it believes that its users strongly prefer a different trade-off, and takes heroic measures to prevent anyone from doing unto Apple as Apple did unto MS and FB.

Firms are neither intrinsically good, nor are they intrinsically evil. They respond to incentives and constraints. The possibility that users might bargain back against a proposed trade-off makes those proposed trade-offs fairer, on average.

If a firm knows an obnoxious course of action will trigger users taking a step to block, reconfigure, or modify some or all of its products and service, it has to weigh those costs against the expected parochial distributional benefits from imposing bad trade-offs on its users.

Firms that aren't subject to discipline from user defection, modding, etc, are prone to folly - they arrogantly overreach. Users experience harms as a result, and it's only when those harms accumulate to the point where tolerance for the 'trade-off' runs out that the harm ceases.

Preferences are revealed by user conduct, sure - but the extent to which a preference can be revealed is limited by the extent to which it can be technologically expressed.

A world in which there are extensive legal restrictions on users expressing their preferences is a world in which successful trade-offs tell us little about users' preferences.

And a firm that goes to lengths to expand and invoke those legal restrictions tells on itself, revealing its own secret belief that it is imposing a trade-off on its users that the users would gladly jettison... if they could.

ETA: Evans replied:

Sending over two dozen tweets is not good faith engagement in a conversation - rather, this is what in other contexts is called a Gish Gallop.

Meanwhile, it's almost about FB and Windows. This is deflection and whataboutery. I made one very specific point about the trade-offs between security and flexibility on the iPhone. Those trade-offs are real - that is not debatable. The only debate is which to choose.

[Image ID: An Apple 'Privacy. That's iPhone.' ad. The three rear-facing camera lenses have been replaced by the staring, red eye of HAL9000 from 2001: A Space Odyssey.]

(Image: Cryteria, CC BY 3.0, modified)

[sumoattack-gooddog]

Here’s the thing about WatcherTV,

Let’s talk about what’s being offered —

Let’s talk the financial —

Let’s talk the unanswered —

Let’s talk the solution —

Cumulatively since they began — trailers included — Watcher has 377 videos available for view. Netflix has 17,000 titles. Episodes, movies, and most recently games. If the minimum price of Netflix at $6.99/month provides that, how can one justify $6/month for WatcherTV? 2.2% of Netflix’s size is what Watcher is offering — all of which are currently free on YouTube.

The closer similarity, of course, would not be Netflix but Dropout. The prices of their subscriptions are equivalent, but again, what isn’t, is the amount of content. There is already a significant backlog of videos that can be consumed for new subscribers AND three different shows which post weekly. Had the company come forward with a backlog of new media at the ready to be watched, people would have been far more receptive to this proposal.

I understand that, as a creative, you have certain aspirations for making the best version of your idea. You want what you put out in the world to be as close to the image in your head as possible. Sometimes there are constraints due to time, due to money, due to manpower — so on and so forth. I recognize that. I, myself, have worked professionally, academically, and privately in film/media production. I Understand.

What I do not understand is the decision to ostracize a larger portion of your audience. Not everyone can afford a new streaming service — especially one that offers such little in return for the cost. But beyond the American-centric perspective of it. This platform isolates the majority of foreign fans, especially those who are subject to exchange rates. What I have seen some refer to as “the price of a single coffee,” for others is a week’s worth of food.

This community was beautiful and passionate and diverse as a result of its ability to be easily and freely consumed. That will be lost without change.

Furthermore, we see issue derived from the lack of transparency as to what is being offered. We are being promised “bigger and better,” new things, and the return of collapsed things. However, there is a significant lack of clarity and it is felt. Beyond Travel Season and its upcoming May time release, there is no clarity as to what (beyond the old content) people are getting. Yes, there is the vague promise of future seasons of the fan favorites, but there is no clear time as to when. If people subscribe now, how long will they be waiting for content that isn’t already free?

How can this be fixed? Frankly, good fucking question. Perusing through the comments, it’s pretty clear that a majority of fans feel blindsided and lied to. Watcher has consistently denounced capitalism and condemned corporate greed, and to what extent this behavior falls into it definitely raises some questions. I think it is worth acknowledging, they are a company that has grown to put out content. That means they are responsible for 27 (I believe) paychecks, beyond their own. But that is not the only explanation for why they’re doing this. Or their most prominent one — I’ve already acknowledged their bigger and better mindset, but their other reasoning was that they are at the mercy of advertisements. And that this will stop those.

Well, what if it didn’t? The most obvious compromise, in my mind, would be something like Peacock’s cheapest streaming option of roughly $1/month which includes ads to make up the subscription cost disparity from their ad free option. That is far more manageable for most, even with exchange rates, than $6. It would still be a luxury beyond free, but most people would be able to justify a 1 USD splurge especially while waiting for content backlogs to actually come out.

I don’t hate the Watcher company after this, but I am frustrated and disappointed by their announcement. I am sure it was not done without thought, but it does not feel like it given what they have to actually show for this decision. I have been a consumer of their content for 10yrs, and it is what helps me during troubling times — Just as Shane acknowledged caring about. I would hate to lose the connection to this wonderful community because of a narrow minded perspective on the future. I urge @wearewatcher to consider this moving forward.

[jacevelaryonswife]

The sweet taste of depravation

You repaid your husband's previous affection in the best possible way, luckily for him to seem to like it a lot.

∴pairing: Osferth x Fem!reader

∴warnings: male receiving, indecency, no plot just porn. and english is not my first language.

part one | ewanverse masterlist

Getting up slowly, you squeezed him gently into his pants and heard him moan. “Let me return the favor, my love.”

Unlike your husband, you weren't entirely flustered by mentions of debauchery. You had faith, but your religiosity didn’t match Osferth's, which particularly facilitated things in intimacy, as two rigid and fearful people were worse than one. Although you didn't have as much experience as other ladies, you were no fool about the things that could be done by a man and a woman, so imagine your surprise when your kind husband suggested such indecency of tasting your flower? Such pleasure bestowed on you by his mouth in an act so intimate and so good, it made your entire skin burn and yearn for more. The image of him clumsily tasting your nectar still stunned you, leaving you weak at the knees, however, nothing fairer than returning the favor to your sweet, handsome Osferth, just when he was sorely in need of your affection.

He didn't say anything when you massaged him into the thin fabric of the bedding, savoring the sensation with a little regret. Oh, how wrong it felt! But so good!

“My love, you don't have to do this if you don't want to, I’d understand…” he said with puppy dog eyes and red mouth, forming a pout.

Nothing derived from the love between soulmates could ever be wrong, and you convinced yourself of that faster than he did.

“Do you want me to stop, my love?” asked sweetly.

"… Only if you want."

“I don't want to, what about you?”

“No, I don't,” he said, then corrected himself. “I-I don’t want you to stop, my lady.”

Nodding with a smile, you pulled his manhood out and touched it tentatively, wiggling and squeezing as you remembered exchanging experiences with the other ladies — although not nearly the proper way. It was actually fascinating how hard and soft it was, so interesting that if it weren't for the squeaks and sounds of the man below you it would have totally captured your attention.

Your other hand held his jewelry before massaging it, making him almost shiver beneath you, spurred on by the caress of your two hands.

“Where do you like most, my lord?”

“Upstairs,” he replied breathlessly.

You moved your hand up to the bulging, bulbous top part, massaging and moving from top to bottom while working the bottom part with your other hand. Recalling some accounts of how to touch a man, you left a light grip on the top and lowered yourself to his level, placing it in your mouth. Oh, that had him squealing beneath you, clutching the hand you kept wrapped around him and the side of his head for support. For a moment you thought you had hurt him, as your next thoughts were about how you should do it. God, it seemed so difficult to keep your teeth from touching that your delay in getting used to taking it caused a small accumulation of saliva that served to lubricate him when you raised your head and lowered it slowly, sucking your way back.

“Oh my Lor-" he broke off, not wanting to speak such blasphemously.

You took it out of your mouth and kept touching him with your hand, spreading moisture over its length just to ask:

“Are you enjoying it, my lord husband?”

“Ye-yes, my love… it’s so good.”

Smiling again, you leaned in to take him passionately, licking and sucking as you played with his warm, valuable stones. Your disinhibition was gradually lost as you pushed him deeper, still calmly but steadily, you sucked him in the bulbous region every now and then, making him moan louder and louder. Your beautiful baby monk, so flushed and adorable beneath you, a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead as delicious sounds came out of his rosy lips. Your own intimacy clenched and twisted at the sight of him so desperate, yearning to feel the wet length of him against, to rise and fall over him, to feel the heat burn through your veins a second time in such a short period of time. So inappropriate, so wanton. So good…

“My love, oh f.. I think I will- Oh good Lo-“

You felt a squirt into your mouth with a strange, bitter taste, pulling back to see the white color. His seed. Oh God, your legs tingled and clenched, leaning down to lick as much as you could despite the taste, wiping it off with the back of your hand before stretching out for a lustful, hungry kiss, to be returned breathlessly with big hands. firmly grabbing your waist and pressing you against him. He leaned his forehead against you after the kiss, hugging you and inhaling your scent.

“So… that was really good,” you said.

“Very, my love, I didn't know you had such debauchery in you,” he teased.

“Do you mean to speak of debauchery when you suggested kissing me downstairs, husband? You’re unholy!” You smiled slyly, kissing every inch of his beautiful face.

“Perhaps I should do a purge after this,” he suggested good-naturedly.

“Of course you must.”

ewan’s taglist: @aemonds-fire

[marypsue]

There's a thing in Grady Hendrix' We Sold Our Souls, especially in conversation with what he has to say about splatterpunk in Paperbacks From Hell, that I've been thinking about ever since I read it.

So the protagonist of We Sold Our Souls is the guitarist of a long-dissolved heavy metal band, and the premise is that she finds out her former bandmate sold her (and their other bandmates') soul in exchange for success. And she wants it back.

This could very easily have turned into a one-note diatribe against the soulless corporate commercialism and trend-chasing sameiness of mainstream music - and that's definitely a thread that runs through the entire book. Our Heroes do very much insult the creative bankruptcy and shameless plagiarism that the soul-selling bandmate engages in to get to the top of the heap. It's shown as both a moral and an aesthetic wrong. There's a lot about the ~grittiness and ~rawness of ~real music, a lot of lauding the artists that never get anywhere because they don't have wide, mainstream, commercial appeal, because they stick to making the art that they love and that they believe in. There is, to be perfectly frank, a lot of the kind of alternative music snobbery that's inherent in any underground scene.

But then. Then there's Melanie. And there's her love of this manufactured, commercial, creatively bankrupt, overproduced hacky nu-metal act that the soul-selling bandmate became, and what that love has helped her through, and what that love inspires her to do with her life. And, most importantly for the story's purposes, how that love puts her in the very place she needs to be to help Kris when Kris needs it the most.

And then there's the girl with the guitar, busking on the street. She's not very good, and she hasn't gotten much better by the end of the novel. But she's still making music.

And then there's the fact that Grady Hendrix makes a point, during the climactic scene, to note that the opening riff on the first track of Troglodyte is one that Kris...borrowed, albeit unintentionally, from a much more famous song. That this paragon of music and art and creativity and soul that she hopes can save them all...isn't wholly original.

We Sold Our Souls raises a question that, on the surface, it seems to never conclusively answer: is the album Troglodyte actually any good? It's never entirely clear (because this is a book, and part of the reason why I think it's unfilmable) whether the music itself actually sounds good. Kris certainly thinks so. The people at Hellstock seem to think so. The people on the radio say that the album is mediocre at best - but then, the radio's been a puppet of Black Iron Mountain all along (except for the AM weirdos, which sort of undermines that argument, which goes to my point). What is clear, though, is that whether or not Troglodyte is technically, musically, aesthetically, artistically good or not...doesn't matter. Because just by virtue of being what it is - the first serious artistic efforts of a lonely, sad, angry teenage girl and her friends, kicking defiantly back at a world that seems built just to grind them down - it has immeasurable power.

What We Sold Our Souls seems to me to be saying, with all of this, is that it doesn't matter much in the end what the art that you love actually is. It doesn't matter whether it's good, or original, or makes you money. What matters is that you love it. All art is made out of other art, and what matters is the art that you make out of it next.

And that any art that gets made, no matter how commercial or shallow or derivative or technically imperfect or ugly or strange or whatever it might be, is always better than the art that doesn't.

[thewertsearch]

It is the perfect crime.

This one's a contender for the best panel in Homestuck so far. I love that he's been dipping into the accessories of everyone in the Medium to build his disguises.

Looks like Egbert came through. He wires you his measly BOONBUCK. It's not much, but it is immediately funneled into the pipelines of your various investment scams, and quickly begins paying dividends.

A Boonbuck's only a million Boondollars, so it really is nothing compared to this fortune. What was the point of asking for it, then? Did Dave just want an excuse to catch up with John?

Maybe, if you took the time to trace all the loops, you'd find that the entire fortune was derived from John's Boonbuck in the first place.

It's also worth noting that Boondollars can be exchanged for Grist.

This explains why Dave's stock market hack is so useful. It gives the party an arbitrary amount of Grist - for these specific grist types, at least.

GC: 1 M4D3 YOU 4NOTH3R COM1C TG: fuck TG: bout time

Her art is honestly improving. The whole image is great - I love that she includes Karkat among Dave's internet buddies, but only so she can scribble him out immediately.

GC: TH3 PH3NOM3NON OF TH3 COOLK1D 1S 4 F4SC1N4T1NG ON3 D4V3 GC: 1 H4V3 STUD13D 1T GC: D1D YOU KNOW TH4T W3 DO NOT H4V3 COOLK1DS ON 4LT3RN14?

Well, you wouldn't. The Coolkid is an innocent, painfully earnest '90s archetype that your hell planet would eat alive.

TG: so are we done making money yet or what GC: OH 1 DONT KNOW GC: T3CHN1C4LLY W3 W3R3 4 LONG T1M3 4GO TG: yeah i kinda figured GC: BUT 1TS 4 FUN W4Y TO STR3TCH OUT TH3 T1M3 YOUV3 GOT L3FT, 1SNT 1T?

I can appreciate a good number-go-up - but now I can't tell if this is actually his Quest or not.

It's a mission which involves his Aspect, and his Land's unique features, which is certainly in line with John and Rose's objectives - but it sounds like his instructions came from Terezi, rather than Davesprite or the Consorts.