#Youtube View Calculator

[thecountiesinfo]

How to Make Money Through Youtube; Earning Through Youtube

“Make Money Through YouTube” refers to the process of earning income by creating and sharing videos on the popular video-sharing platform, YouTube. YouTube offers several monetization features that allow content creators to generate revenue from their videos. Here are Some of the Most Common ways to Make Money Through Youtube: 1. Advertising revenue:  This is the most common way that creators…

[aventurineswife]

Okay, so, apologies if you've already written something similar to this, but have you ever seen this short film "Jinxy Jenkins and Lucky Lou?" (If not, it's on YouTube) So anyway, I was thinking, what about Aventurine x S/O that is extremely unlucky and prone to accidents (kind of like Bennet from Genshin) but when they and Aventurine are around each other their energies sort of... Idk how to word this, but negate each other? Like the reader doesn't have bad luck when they are around Aventurine and maybe Aven isn't as lucky as he is when he isn't with them (I feel like he wouldn't mind this and find it interesting).

Between Luck and Chaos

Summary: Aventurine notices an unusual phenomenon: your bad luck seems to disappear whenever you're with him, while his usually impeccable luck evens out. Intrigued, he views this as an exciting balance of fate.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Established Relationship, Opposites Attract, Fluff with Light Angst, Unlucky!Reader, Playful Banter, Introspection.

Warnings: Minor mentions of bad luck accidents, Light introspection on Aventurine’s trauma and survivor’s guilt, Playful manipulation and teasing dynamics.

A/N: I never watched it but thanks for recommending! There was a c.ai with Aventurine and the same prompt lol

Aventurine leaned back in his plush chair, fingers twirling a gold ring around his index finger as his sharp eyes followed the movements of his companion. His usual smile was absent, replaced with a faint glimmer of intrigue as he watched you attempt to pour yourself a drink.

Normally, this was the moment when everything would go wrong. In your life, bad luck was a constant companion—whether it was spilling coffee on your favorite shirt or tripping over the simplest things, you always seemed to find yourself caught in the chaos of misfortune. But today, as you carefully lifted the glass, there was no spill. No accident. No catastrophe.

You caught his gaze and smiled, a little sheepish but mostly grateful. "Guess I’m on a streak of good luck today," you said, half-laughing at how unusual the situation was.

Aventurine raised an eyebrow. "You?" His voice was amused, almost teasing. "With your... track record?"

"Hey," you protested, "I'm telling you, I never manage to go a day without something going wrong."

But there you were—standing confidently, holding a drink in your hand without it toppling over, with no sign of impending doom in sight. Even the way you moved seemed smoother, your every step measured and sure, as if fate itself had decided to take a break.

"You must be mistaken." Aventurine chuckled softly, though his eyes were still calculating, that ever-present glint of strategy flickering in the depths. "I’ve seen the way you navigate the world. Yet here you are, seemingly untouched by misfortune. Are you sure you’re not... up to something?"

You turned the glass in your hands, eyeing it warily before taking a sip. "It’s weird, I know. It’s like whenever I’m with you, things just... stop happening. Like I’m in a bubble of good luck."

His lips curled into a slow smile, his magenta and cyan eyes twinkling with amusement. "Interesting," he mused, leaning forward. "Perhaps you’ve stumbled upon a hidden advantage. A balance, perhaps." His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "It could be... that our fates somehow negate each other."

You blinked, surprised by his conclusion. "Negate each other?"

Aventurine’s expression turned more contemplative, his hand now resting lightly on the armrest. "I’ve always thrived on risk, on the game of chance. But you..." He tilted his head slightly, a glint of curiosity behind his mask of confidence. "You seem to attract bad luck as naturally as I attract fortune. But when we’re together... perhaps our energies cancel out."

A silence fell between you as you mulled over his words. You had always been the person to attract the worst kinds of accidents, but with Aventurine, it was as though you were in some sort of bubble of safety. You had no idea how or why it worked, but it did.

"Do you... like it?" you asked, your voice tinged with both wonder and hesitation. "I mean, you thrive on luck, right? And if I’m around you, you don’t get the same kind of fortune you’re used to."

Aventurine’s smile widened, his usual playful arrogance tempered by something softer, something almost affectionate. "Why wouldn't I like it?" he said with a wink. "After all, the greatest thrill lies in finding the unexpected. Perhaps your unlucky streak is exactly what I need."

You raised an eyebrow, unsure whether to be flattered or suspicious. "Are you saying you need bad luck?"

"Not exactly," he replied smoothly, standing and walking toward you. His presence was magnetic, as always, his movements graceful but deliberate, like a predator toying with its prey. "But it’s... an interesting experiment, don’t you think? To see how far we can push this balance. To test fate itself."

You couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm, even though you were a bit nervous. "I think you're starting to enjoy this more than I am."

"Of course I am," Aventurine laughed, his voice light and teasing. "Because, my dear, life is a gamble—and I'm always up for a challenge."

His hand slid over yours, gently guiding your fingers with his own. For a brief moment, the world outside seemed to blur away, leaving only the warmth of his touch and the undeniable connection between you both. The sense of balance between misfortune and fortune, between his calculated risks and your chaotic energy, had created something unexpected: an equilibrium neither of you fully understood, but both cherished.

As you looked into his eyes, you realized something profound: no matter what the odds were, whether it was fate or chance, the gamble was always worth it—especially when it meant being with him.

[multidimensionalguidance]

🌟 Massive Fame in Astrology 🌟

I decided to compile in a short note information concerning fame on a massive scale per KRS Youtube channel observations.

Key points: Rahu and Venus

Where? 5th/7th/10th Houses

Just in D1? Nope, also in D9 (Navamsa) and D10 (Dasamsa)

Venus specifically in Magha Nakshatra which is in Leo and/or in 5th house are big fame indicators, and even more so for those interested or working in the entertainment world.

Any of these two planets in the 7th or 10th will amplify your control over the masses. Venus does it through charm and grace, whereas Rahu does it through being cunning and innovative.

Extra:

Arudha Lagna (AL) has also been mentioned by him in other fame related videos. This point shows your social status, how you appear to others, possibility of fame, illusory perception of the self from others.

He mentioned that if AL has any planet present in its 1st, 7th from itself or possibly even 10th from itself, then during the MD/AD period of any of those planets (emphasis on 1st/7th axis planets in AL chart) it will “explode” the fame of the native. You will become known for whatever the trait of those planets have even after death. This could be for good or for bad depending on the strength of the planet (by sign or aspects).

AL conjunct Moon, so basically your AL sign matching your Moon sign also signifies popularity as well! Affliction from 7H could impact it but it will be there nonetheless.

If you’d like to know the details for every planet, click here and view the main video of these notes from KRS.

You can calculate your AL in here 🌟 Also, please keep in mind that there are some exceptions to how it is calculated. AL cannot fall 1st or 7th from itself, so if it does, you must count again the same amount of placed your ASC lord is sitting from ASC. Read further online for further details and explanations!

If you’d like to know how likely massive fame could be for you and to learn further about the type of fame or reputation you could acquire through life, request a reading via DM!

[frameacloud]

Some ways to avoid generative AI in web searches

Our web searches are being filled with more and more AI-generated slop. GenAI creates misinformation that can be difficult to tell apart from the correct answer to whatever question you're looking up. GenAI mixes things up that have similar names. In one example that is especially easy to recognize, genAI has thought that a baseball team and the bird that it was named after must both be the same creature, with a bizarre combination of their eating habits and behaviors. This mistake still happens with specialized topics that could be harder for you to recognize unless if you're already very familiar with the topic in question. GenAI also makes up fake sources and facts out of thin air, and you can't tell until you try to find them somewhere else. The tech is more like advanced predictive text than something capable of research or reasoning, even though it can look enough like it that it can fool you if you don't know how to spot its mistakes.

Not only are the results of genAI unreliable, the source texts and images that they’re based on were used without permission. Sometimes they aren't modified enough to avoid plagiarism, but it's worse than that. Source images have turned out to be private medical photos and intimate personal photos that hackers had stolen and leaked to harass the people in the photos. Another reason why this technology is unethical is that each genAI query has such a high energy cost that it's significantly harmful to the environment, contributing to the climate crisis.

Here are some things that you can do when you use Google, DuckDuckGo, or other conventional general web search engines:

To turn off Google's AI Overview, set "web" as default. Here's how to do that on your devices and web browsers.

Add this string to any web search to only show results from before the genAI fad. Before:2021

Install the web browser extension uBlacklist. You give it a list of web addresses to not show you in your web searches anymore. Other people maintain lists for it that you can subscribe to so that you won’t see certain types of results in your web searches. Follow the instructions in Laylavish’s Huge AI Blocklist to subscribe to that list which will rid your web search results of AI-generated pages or images.

Since genAI slop is getting to be such a big problem on them, use alternatives to conventional general web search engines some of the time:

Use a specialized search engine instead of a general one. For example, if you only wanted to find a particular science article, there are specialized search engines that only look for those. The blog post "Skip Google for Research" has a list of specialized search engines for academics.

GenAI is notoriously bad at math because that’s too far outside the scope it was designed for: advanced predictive text. In any case, genAI is overpowered for math that is easy for computers to do. If you want to use a very advanced calculator, or even ask a math question in natural language, use Wolfram Alpha.

For questions about how to do things, look them up in WikiHow, the Youtube channel Dad, How Do I? or The Ultimate Manuals Library.

You can search within Wikipedia, but unfortunately vandals have been putting machine-generated falsehoods into it, as well as genAI images. To avoid this, use the article history to view versions of the article from before 2022.

Ask yourself if there are some topics that you often do a web search for just because you keep forgetting an answer to something. Start saving those answers in a book or file that you can refer to offline. This is called a commonplace book. For an example of one, Beth and Angel made theirs into a zine, Stuff I Often Google.

How about a completely different sort of web search than present-day Google or DuckDuckGo? Marginalia Search only brings up results that are text-heavy and similar to the web of the 1990s and 2000s. Its software is independent and open-source.

Have you been using a web search engine to take you to the websites that you visit on a regular basis? Switch to saving them in your web browser's bookmarks folder. Your web browser, Firefox, can sync your bookmarks to your other devices. If you often need to refer to a large number of static web pages (ones that don't change what is on them every day), then you can save and organize them in your Zotero, a bibliography management program. You can sort them with folders and tags so you can find them again.

[cassiocantdrink]

so ah, mittens. at some point, i stumbled across a fantastic local project on instagram. a bunch of volunteers collect handmade knits and around new year's eve, distribute them among homeless people!

pros:

fidget stimming but you get a sock at the end. or something.

learn to knit mittens. or socks. those small things i have never attempted before

get rid of leftover yarn!

somebody gets warm knits!

no need to be fancy. any mitten is better than no mitten

no need to interact with anybody, neither the volunteers nor the homeless people (i honestly don't have the spoons for that rn)

the drop off point is not only a 20-min walk from where i live (which is already a miracle, given the size of the town), but a 20-min walk on the way to work!

cons: ????

so this is how it started (found a youtube video on magic loop). despite its slightly eldritch appearance, it was a Very Instructive Mitten! the magic loop itself, decreases, increases, the obvious need for the modified kitchener graft but the most important of all??

this lady straight up PICKS UP AND KNITS several stitches (she says 4, i say 5) from the body of the mitten so that there is absolutely NO HOLE between the thumb and the body! i hated that hole for my entire life. i never knew you could get rid of it that easily.

this is my cousin's hand, misha ended up pinching a pair. it was the day when i badly miscalculated the width and ended up with what looked to me like an effing oven mitt. see, size-wise, i'm a corgi at best who's under misapprehension that she's more of a german shepherd. so i knitted a mitten that was like, my size?? measured a postgrad's average man's hand, recalculated and.... and ended up with this. fortunately misha came for a short visit, he of Huge Hands and Feet (well he's like 6'1 so they're proportional, just, you know... big. the entire misha is big, especially when viewed from a 5'5 perspective). i approached him timidly, coz, would you do me a favor, try on a mitten?

misha went ecstatic. there's not much that can drive a seasoned hematologist to ecstasy but the mitten did the trick. IT FITS!!!! proclaimed misha, IT"S SOFT!!! IT"S BEAUTIFUL! holy shit. it's a basic mitten? it's orange? would you like me to knit you a pair of maybe grey? i also have dark brown? noooo, said misha, admiring his mittened hand, IT"S TERRACOTTA and i love the color!

i had to brake here, hard. a man who knows what terracotta color even is deserves a pair of terracotta mittens, no doubt. so later, i finished the other one and mailed it to him bc of course he was only here for a day. i whipped out my measuring tape again, and IT TURNED OUT that what i thought was my size, was actually that average mens' size i was after. the length was correct for my hand, yes, but the width, oh no. the width was exactly mens M. excellent. so now i had two variants, M and L/XL, and i went to work.

the loot: NO MORE orange terracotta yarn taking up half of my yarn bin! ran out of blue and grey as well, yippee! 11 pairs total but one went to misha and three i unraveled bc they were too thin and redid in double yarn, so seven. yep, dropped them off, went without a hitch. now, after this rather intensive warm-up, i feel like i can hatch more intricate plans, hehehe.

the ultimate goal: tashashu gordon's hypnosis mittens. not now, now i feel like another sweater or maybe two if i'm being bold. but someday, definitely. and before you think i'm delusional to go from my basic knits to this, i'll have you know that i've done her aurora borealis scarf, so i fell that i have all the knowledge i need. also, i had to re-calculate the entire scarf pattern for a different gauge, so yeah. i can do this.

overall: total success, would definitely do it again. mittens, socks and chest warmers, here i come!

[v4mpyrsp1t]

rip arcane crew you would have loved video game

viktor: skyrim. because i said so. he’d LOVE the technical aspects of modding esp because he’d see it as a DIY fuck-you to Bethesda's corporate shortcomings. he’d also start saying “by the nine/by talos” unironically. autistic starter pack fr. also because i’m projecting there would be days where he’s off work and sits up after like 18 hours straight of replaying all the good questlines and cracks every bone in his body when he finally remembers to get up and eat and drink water etc. jayce is also not allowed to interrupt skyrim time. it doesn't even look like skyrim anymore tbh with the sheer number of mods he's installed and every time he boots it up it takes 2 minutes to load to main menu and his custom-built PC starts boiling the mug he placed on top of it for that specific reason. When he wants to branch out he and Jayce sit down and play horror games together. They LOVE alien isolation. Jayce always screams which scares him and makes him scream and then he whacks Jayce with the pillow.

jayce: minecraft. audhd classic. he’d also get really into the modding but specifically to make insane beyond-redstone contraptions. with something like the arcane engineering mod. he prob lost his mind when he found out about it. his builds would look like the most god awful thing you’ve ever seen like some sick beast of ugly ass blocks and gears and he’d be cheesing behind you saying “it’s a linear algebra calculator actually. also it can run doom.” he also does megabuilds from time to time and those projects are the most gorgeous toe-curling and detailed works ever and uploaded to his no-commentary youtube channel as a timelapse over the worst royalty-free edm you've ever heard. it has 15 bajillion views and he posts once every 7 months. He's HORRIBLE around horror games he always jumps straight to the ceiling and screams and grabs onto whoever is nearest to him (usually viktor).

mel: gaming "isn't really her thing" but sometimes she hops on multiplayer with everyone if they're having a game night. if she had to pick a favorite game she regularly plays it would be tiny glade or unpacking. something relaxing that she can have control over to take a break from the chaos during the day. she's also a stealth smash/mario kart pro and absolutely no one can beat her. seriously how does she keep doing that. when the group was really into among us they would PRAY she wasn't the impostor because she would WIPE them across the floor every time. It got to the point where if no one seemed to be the impostor they would just default to assuming it was her because she was so good at the strategizing. she would also get really into the artsy indie game scene and browse through game jam collections from time to time. She played through Gris by herself once because it got recommended to her as she was looking through the related section of one of those games and literally could never play it again because she cried so hard but if you ask her she vehemently denies it.

jinx: project sekai colorful stage and lollipop chainsaw. at the same time tbh. nobody knows how she keeps hitting perfect combos on both when she does that. unfortunately she’d prob also hit the tutti frutti mango cart and play breakcore max volume at the same time i don't make the rules. out of nowhere she sometimes stares ekko down and asks "what if you were bit by a zombie and i had to turn your head into a keychain for my belt to save you and we went everywhere together and saved the world and kissed. what are your thoughts on that." She keeps pointing whenever miku comes onto the screen and says "that's me that's literallyyyy meee." She was the main reason why group Overcooked nights are now banned. Don't ask. She's top three in a handful of any% speedrun boards, some in games she doesn't even play outside of figuring out what glitches they have. Her Portal 2 speedrun is a total of 20 minutes and absolutely nobody can figure out how she did it. She also is a huge horror game junkie and her and Vi play multiplayer horror stuff on a regular basis. She wouldn't really jump or react to jumpscares, even when people around her scream, she just immediately moves on which is even scarier to everyone tbh.

ekko: he would LOVE adventure games. especially if there were quests centered around helping people. his main games would be monster hunter, BG3, and he'd prob also like shadow of the colossus and the last guardian. They're all the perfect mix of fantasy, big fucking creatures, and being a nice person simulator. He absolutely can't do an evil run in any game and stopped a BG3 durge playthrough mid-way through Act I because he hated how cruel his character was acting; his last straw was the Alfira cutscene. He tried to do a playthrough with Jinx but she kept taking the most nuclear option every time and they kept hitting a TPK because of all the fights. Him and Viktor trade modding resources and recommend mods to each other it gets really intense. They have this weird competition with each other over who can pull out the craziest modlist for their respective games and everyone is terrified because nobody can stop them and they're so good at it. He and Jinx play a lot of two-player games though; the ones where they fight always almost end in a real-life brawl because they get so competitive with each other.

isha: cookie run. subway surfers. there are hot cheeto crumbs all over her goddamn devices and some weird crust at the edges of the screen that's fused the tablet case to the tablet. she can also bulldoze everyone and their mother in fortnite and writes :3 :33 in the chat every time she kills someone. Lowkey scary with it because while she's playing games she stares wide-eyed at whatever screen it's on and doesn't blink once. She plays a lot of fighting games with Jinx and literally always wins. When they started out Jinx kept saying "get dunked on" every time she beat her and it activated the sleeper agent that made her practice absolutely nonstop. So now she could probably be ranked on a global scoreboard or something. She also hates when the royal match ads pop up just on principle and lets them play out so the stupid purple robed tyrant can drown or burn or whatever else he does in the ads.

Cait: deer hunter pro or something like that. vi tells her the fact that she plays games like that "feels homophobic" for some reason. she also has a deep rivalry with isha in fortnite when they landed on the same server and didn't know it was her for months she would just clench her fist grit her teeth and mutter isha's gamertag in hatred. other than that she's AMAZING at PvP shooter games. she's gone viral here and there for uploading clips where her and Vi make fun of men in the VC while she absolutely destroys them. Her and Vi have also tried to play two-player games like Jinx and Ekko do but both of them got bored ten minutes in and switched back to Valorant. Her and Jinx have gotten into an actual fight during group Nintendo game night because Jinx kept purposefully targeting her with shells or whacking her off the smash arena platform and finding it hilarious. when vi plays rage games and eventually quits she usually picks it up and tries to finish it for her. without fail both of them eventually both give up and take a walk together to calm down so they don't break the controller. other than that she’s a HUGE detective game nerd ofc, and plays those when she has to take a break from work (vi pulls her away from her desk so she can rest). LA noire, disco elysium, detroit become human, evil within. if it’s got a detective in it in any way she hops on it as fast as physically possible. she prob keeps a red string board next to her PC just so she can keep track of clues like a real case and throws a blanket over it when vi comes in the room to make sure she’s turning off her work brain.

Vi: she likes fighting games like moral kombat of course, but she loves horror games as much as Jinx. Unfortunately the two of them are on Roblox horror games literally all the fucking time it's insufferable. She would probably also LOVE stuff like tomb raider; she wanted to buy a lesbian flag with lara croft photoshopped onto it to hang in the living room "because i'm patriotic" and cait told her absolutely not. while playing online with cait the two of them are absolutely unstoppable, esp when VC is turned on. they have a tally on a dry erase board on the fridge that keeps track of how many people they made rage quit. her and jayce also try to play co-op games and everyone physically steps in to stop them because they fumble so bad and blame it on the game design. there's something called "the incident" where they were all trying out the forest and the two of them managed to collapse the group's entire base in two axe swings. She is also now banned from playing rage games like getting over it or chained together.

[octuscle]

Hi, im a 19 yo nerd, yesterday some kids wre playing with a soccer ball in front of my house, the ball got into the garden of my house and when i threw it out, i didnt nlticed i threw it a bit far and it arrived into the house across the street, breaking a window, the neighbor, a single man, came to my house and told my parents what i did, he demands i repair the window by myself, i dont know how to do that, can you give me a little help?

First of all, you do what you do best. You sit down at your computer. Enter "repair soccer window" into Google. A lot of things come up that won't help you at all. Care tips for footballs. And advertisements for household contents and liability insurance. The soccer care thing doesn't look very helpful, but it might be interesting.

Shit, you can waste a lot of time on the Internet very quickly. After half an hour, you're back to the current and upcoming match day in the Premier League. But you still don't know anything about repairing windows. "Repairing windows". Perhaps it would help to remove soccer from the search query. It doesn't matter why the window is broken. It just needs to be repaired.

Now we're getting closer to the point. Lots of tutorials on youtube. Surely there's something there. Unfortunately, you don't even know what kind of window is broken. And what exactly is broken. Damn, just how many different types of window panes there are. You can find an article about German windows. They have a lot of damn cool features. I wonder if that would be a market to sell and install German ones here. What this tilt function is supposed to do is still not clear to you. But these shutters on the windows are hot shit. You'd like to install something like that at your parents' house.

You're guaranteed not to install something from Schüco for a few thousand dollars in your neighbor's house… You're assuming that your neighbor will have vertical sliding windows in most of the rooms, just like you do. Probably made of aluminum. A shame, really. Horizontal sliding windows made of wood with glazing bars would fit the character of the house much better.

Haven't you ever worked for your neighbor? You must still have plans and views from the street side. Or at least a photo. Yes, here. Where were you standing again? How hard did you throw the ball? What was the wind like? Just because you did an apprenticeship as a carpenter doesn't mean you're stupid. So it's probably the window of the study on the second floor. Yes, it must have been rotten, you can see that quite clearly in the photo. Just replacing the glass won't help much.

Nowadays, working on the computer is half the battle. Calculating material requirements, programming saws for cutting. And downloading some porn in between. Hehehe, unlike your father, you don't need to hang up raunchy calendars in the workshop anymore. Your father is hardly ever seen here anyway. It's no longer his world. In his day, a carpenter needed a hammer and a saw, he used to say. Old man, those days are long gone.

Before you start, you went to your neighbor's house across the street. Real life is sometimes more reliable than virtual life. But it was the right window, you measured it again with your laser measuring device. You had miscalculated by a few millimeters. You are a craftsman with passion and dedication. You don't mess around. You deliver precision work.

"Mr. T, better than before my throw," you say with a grin. But it's the pure truth. But you know exactly why your neighbor insisted that you carry out the repair. He'll do anything to get you to fix things in his house. And when no more chairs tip over and no more doors squeak, you'll take care of Mr. T. yourself.

He asks if you can have a look at the shower after the window. While you take off your dungarees, you say that you are a carpenter and not a plumber. You will probably need help. You don't have to ask Mr. T for long.

[carmesi-butterfly]

childhood nostalgia with enhypen. part 1

this turned out super shitty im sorry t__t it's prolly my first time writing since march lolzies despite everything i hope you like it!!

enhypen's heeseung! jungwon! sunoo! sunghoon! + gn! reader. word count 798. warnings none. not proofread.

heeseung: searching "aliens caught on camera" on youtube.

“are you being serious? this is obviously fake!” your words were accompanied by a small giggle, “why do all these videos are recorded with shitty cameras? i can't even identify what's going on”

“what do you mean by fake?!” his indignation was more than clear, “look at how the flying saucer approaches the person; it's pretty visible” the video played on repeat a few times, pointing at this apparent ‘ovni.’

“where did you find this video? it has only 200 views, don't tell me you've been scrolling through youtube for so long that you started to find videos that only you and the person who posted it saw”

“that doesn't matter; see this one,” he said while clicking on another video, changing it to another with better quality and more illumination. “there! look at it! it's right there, imagine you're just walking by a lonely road trying to go home and an ovni starts following you”

if it was anyone else saying something like this to you you would've just laughed, but knowing your boyfriend and his beliefs, this was really serious, his big deer eyes looking at you in search of an opinion on the matter while putting the most unhinged and undiscovered alien videos of the internet.

jungwon: playing love testers.

It was your idea at first, while recalling your times as a kid with free and unlimited access to the internet the memory of you using those famous pages for kids that “calculated” your affinity with your crush by just putting their name or zodiac sign popped on your mind like a popcorn, you had to find those webs and use them with your boyfriend, it was a life or death matter!

“seventy percent?! this is not accurate, it should say one hundred…” you said in distress as if this ‘love calculating’ page would define the future of your relationship.

“I will try using our full names,” suggested Jungwon, who in the beginning was kind of reluctant about this, maybe because he wasn't interested or found it boring, but in the end, it was just a silly activity he could do with his partner. What he didn't count on was that it would become his mission to reach the hundred percent in every net he could find, reaching to the point of finding the webs you frequented as a kid to do the same. “yoi! I told you, a hundred percent! Now our names and zodiac signs are compatible.” The enormous amount of pride his expression demonstrated couldn't be described by words.

sunoo: learning vocaloid’s mirror dances.

a mirrored dance tutorial of ‘romeo and cinderella’ by hatsune miku sounded on repeat in one of the practice rooms of hybe’s building; the chorus could be heard on repeat, accompanied by your clumsy movements and the frustrated noises you would make every time you got something wrong, luckily, when you were about to reach the last level of insanity and give up on learning the choreography, your boyfriend came to your rescue! and with a lot of groceries from the convenience store.

“sunoo! how am i supposed to do this step? i'm trying but i can't get it right…” your defeated look was funny to see by your partner; doing this was his idea as a ‘fun activity’ to do and bond, but your poor ability to dance was making it difficult for you. fortunately, you have an amazing boyfriend and dance partner who will help you with everything you need!

“ooh, which part? i will help you”

the young couple stood bending in front of the ipad watching what parts were more difficult for you, and after rewatching it a few times to get the movements right sunoo proceeded to teach you everything step by step, he was patient with you because of your inexperience on the topic but couldn't stop himself from teasing you a few times if your motions were awkward.

sunghoon: playing dance dance revolution.

the levels of frustration and humiliation both of you felt couldn't even be described in words, seeing a kid that couldn't reach the ten-year-old mark publicly beating your asses in this dancing machine felt embarrassing.

“you are an idol, where are your dancing abilities?!” you muttered to your partner, who was more than immersed in the child’s dancing.

“the company should recruit him” was the only thing his mouth dropped.

“i can't believe it,” your sigh took sunghoon out of his trance. it was kind of fun seeing the pout that decorated your face, expressing your emotions through it.

“let's try again, but i don't think you will be capable of following my pace” such a cocky comment could only leave your partner’s lips, especially now with his ‘arrogant’ mood.

[the-raven-lady]

(Not) The Savior You Long For [Part 1]

[Masterlist] [My Ko-Fi]

Pairing: Night Lord (OC: Elias Rushorik) x serf!Reader [fem]

Song Inspiration: Fear Inoculum - TOOL [YouTube] [Spotify] “Enumerate all that I'm to do / Calculating steps away from you / My own mitosis / Growing through delusion from mania / Exhale, expel / Recast my tale / Weave my allegorical elegy.”

Warnings: Violence, explicit and detailed blood and gore, disgusting and disturbing imagery, terror and dread, fear of death, all of the warnings you should expect hearing the words ‘Night Lord’ bestie this is the “I love murder” legion.

Word Count: 2.8k

Author’s Note: The long awaited Night Lord claiming + womb tattoo series. This part is primarily exposition and setting the scene. Also new dividers? Raven Lady's getting fancy.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

Tag List: @egrets-not-regrets @sleepyfan-blog @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @bispecsual

@lemon-russ @moodymisty @dedios-of-the-word @pickpocketing-your-gender

The slosh of brown water on the floor splashes away from your washcloth, and you overextend your shoulder trying to catch it before it runs too far. Hissing at the sudden spasm, you sit back on your heels, rolling it out to soothe the ache. You’ve been on your hands and knees for what feels like far too long now, and your joints are starting to protest. It seems the other serf helping you isn’t faring much better. A glance in her direction reveals her sitting like a child, knees bent and feet flat on the floor, using the full weight of her body to scrub between the seams of the floor panels. You shake your head and return to pushing around the rusty water, struggling to remove the grime from the floor. 

The act was pointless. Everyone knew that it wouldn’t be another week before the armory would be so rancid with dried bodily fluids that a cleanup crew would have to scrub it down again, but you knew better than to make a comment on it.

The racket of raucous laughter nearby shoots ice through your veins. You and the other serf instinctually freeze at the sound, and it doesn’t even cross your mind to check on her before abandoning your post, scrambling off of the wet floor in a flash to hide behind a large crate. The cold metal at your back would shield you from view, you know, but the hammering in your chest and shuddering of your breath would be beacons for a bored astartes. Silently, you will yourself to calm down at any cost, holding your breath for so long your lungs begin to burn from the effort.

Their heavy footfalls eventually fade into the distance, off to another area of the ship. Still, you remain in place for another few minutes until you’re as certain as you’ll ever be that they’re gone. You dare not risk yourself getting caught by a group of Night Lords, if experience has taught you anything.

You’ve become jaded to the rags of tanned hide displayed proudly on their armor and the grotesque corpse art that lines the walls of Nightfall. The smell doesn’t even get to you anymore, having been surrounded by abundant death and decay for so long. Everything reeks of it. Even if you did take the time to think on the dreadful feelings that stir when you see them, your body wouldn’t be able to afford losing any more meals with how sparingly you’ve been fed.

What has never left you are the screams. The gush of blood pouring from a weeping laceration. The crack of breaking bones. Desperate cries from the poor targets of the Night Lord’s insatiable appetite for ‘entertainment’, sobs and begs for their lives— No, no, no, please! I’ll do anything, please, just let me go–!— eventually turning into pleas to be put out of their misery, shown mercy, as their captors only laugh and croon. No mercy flowed through them; they were never quick with their kills. It was all a sadistic game to feed off of the tears and terror for as long as they could. The Night Lords wouldn’t stop their fun until their playthings had been bled dry– literally or figuratively.

You peek out from around the crate, surveying the dim armory. Empty. 

The serf you had been working with was missing as well, likely sequestered off somewhere for safety. The utter silence of the room causes your gut to tremble with anxiety. It was a dangerous game to be alone: lone serfs were prime prey, and you by no means wanted to make yourself an easy target. 

With no small amount of horror, you realize it’s outside of your power to do anything about it. Your lungs deflate, and you give yourself a false reassurance before returning to your station on the floor, taking up the soiled wash rag and wringing it out into the water bucket. Pieces of slimy rehydrated skin pass over your fingers. You return to your efforts with the intent to finish as quickly as possible. The desire to flee to your cot is all-encompassing, driving you to redouble your efforts and get the job done just passably enough that you won’t be killed for it. 

A thought stops you, though. Where had your companion gone? It’s not that you particularly cared for her safety (you didn’t know her and caring is a luxury you could not afford), but to be gone without a trace was peculiar. You don’t remember hearing her footsteps, but you had also been preoccupied with yourself at the time.

You look around the empty room for anything out of place. Nothing appears to have moved since you last checked. Her brush and bucket are still on the floor, right where she had left them. You had seen her put them down there, right?

…Hadn’t you?

You dismiss the thought. She was probably still hiding somewhere, and for that, you couldn’t fault her. There was no loyalty amongst serfs of the Eighth, just an understanding that it was safer together than apart. Wanting to determine how much longer you would be here, you observe the areas the other serf had already worked.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The surfaces of the floors, storage units, and walls were visibly much cleaner than the rest, but she had done a horrible job wiping things down as she went. The steady dripping of a poorly dried surface unpleasantly fills your ears, slowly becoming the only thing you can focus on. You frown. It was amazing how you could begin to miss the ever-present dull thrum of the ship’s electrical systems when it was covered by something even slightly more annoying. 

Drip. Drip. Drip.

You shake your head and get back to working around the floor grate at the center of the room. Its placement makes it convenient to push the disgusting wash water into. As expected, the seams around the drain are compacted with hair and dried flesh, and you have to soak the mass to begin to scrape it free. The spongy texture is a nightmare to work with, but it wouldn’t be such a chore if you had some help.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Annoyed, you decide you’ve had enough of it. Water sloshes in the bucket when you wrench your washcloth to go wipe down whatever it is she had left unfinished, rising up to your feet. With some luck, you’d figure out where she had run off to. It wouldn’t come as a surprise if she had abandoned you altogether, leaving you to finish the task and fend for yourself.

A cursory glance over the bench, lockers, and racks reveals nothing out of the ordinary. They were passably clean and– perplexingly– completely dry. You ran a hand along them to be certain and, surely enough, it came away much the same. Odd. You were certain that you would find something. Continuing your search leaves more questions than answers.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Checking around a wall of storage cabinets, you carefully inspect each of the gaps for signs of water or some other liquid that could be leaking. You find nothing. 

At the end of the lockers, a shadow dances in the dim candlelight. Fear grips you for just a moment as you focus in on it, but it is much too small to be an astartes. At the realization, the chill in your blood is replaced with a simmer of frustration, and you stomp down the hall towards the figure.

Your eyes lock with the other serf’s. “Are you just hiding to–?”

You stop. It appears she had been too preoccupied with hanging from a bracket on the wall to come to your aid. The side of her neck is torn open with loose strips of muscle and connective tissue fanning over her shoulder. A glistening metal finial of Nostraman design pokes ornately through her spine and sternum, partially coagulated blood pooling at the tip.

Drip. 

Drip. 

Drip.

“About time,” a voice spits.

You’re suddenly dragged by the back of your robes, hoisted up into the air by an unseen force. The scream that leaves you tears at your vocal cords, but it’s choked off by the fabric of your neckline biting into your throat. Thrashing your head from side to side, you catch sight of a colorless face cackling, bloodied lips curled into a grin. You desperately kick your legs in an attempt to free yourself.

“Feisty little pet, aren’t we?” he asks. The Night Lord turns you around easily as you struggle, splitting red as he talks. “Good. Your friend was far more boring.”

You rake at the fabric around your neck, trying to alleviate the pressure preventing oxygen from getting to your head. The action only makes him laugh harder. “Oh, how precious. Poor little serf can’t breathe?” He tilts his head as he taunts you, and a cruel glint crosses his eye.

“How about I help with that?”

A half turn and your back slams against the wall, knocking the wind out of your lungs. Your gasp of pain ignites a malicious glee within your captor, a row of bloodied yellow teeth peeking from behind his lips. At least like this, pinned to the wall, you have the ability to catch your breath, ragged and shallow. Each rough huff eases the ache in your diaphragm.

A hand roughly snaps your head forward, forcing you to focus on the face at your front. He suffocates you with his presence, leaning in far too close. “You know,” he starts, “I had been just about ready to walk in there and drag you out myself.” Despite the melodic quality of his voice, you only feel discomfort at the astartes’s words as he uningenuously laments. “I could only stare at my masterpiece for so long.” 

Briefly, your eyes linger on the silhouetted corpse of the other chapter serf. You hadn’t even heard her scream. Hadn’t heard the attack. Hadn’t heard the bones crack when she was unceremoniously mounted on the wall. You had managed to miss every detail.

…Or your captor had been skilled enough to mask them. You shiver.

He follows your gaze, scoffing when it lands on the body. “Your buddy is as pretty as she is stupid, trying to run all the way back to the hole you serfs call home.” The image of the other serf running down the hallway and getting caught as you did passes through your mind, and you grimace at the thought of whatever game she may have suffered through to end up where she is. The sing-song cadence of his voice draws your attention back to the Night Lord in front of you, “You humans fall so easily to your emotions. Not the brightest of you lot I’ve had, but certainly the best bait.”

Bait. The word is sour in the air.  

“So unwilling to have fun–” 

She had just been bait. 

“–but you’re eager to play, aren’t you?”

You were the game.

Your blood runs cold, eyes widening as you process everything you had missed or ignored up until now. Black blurs the edges of your vision. “Oh, don’t be like that,” the Night Lord shakes his head, but you know better than to believe it. This is exactly what he wanted. “We can be great friends—” 

Self-preservation takes a hold of you. Your adrenalized brain screams to overcome, persist. In an act of desperation, your hands shoot out before you, and you manage to jab your fingers into his dark eyes and claw. The astartes snarls, ducking away and dragging you with him off of the wall as he stumbles back. With a shake of his head, he regains his senses. He growls.

“You stupid bitch!”

The Night Lord tosses you like a ragdoll, uncaring of how your head impacts the nearby bench before hitting the floor. The world spins around you. “I’ll gut you like a pig for that, you impudent rat!” he roars, ceramite boots stomping closer. His eyes are wild, red around his enlarged pupils from where you’ve managed to burst blood vessels. Uncoordinated, you scramble backwards on the floor, staring up at the approaching astartes in terror. 

This is it. This is where you die: surrounded by filth, hyperventilating on the floor as a pissed off Night Lord tortures you within an inch of your life until you perish from the stress. All for one measly act of courage. Your back hits a wall as he rounds the bench, and you find yourself unable to watch any longer as fate unfolds before you. You curl up in a ball, turning away and protecting your head with your arms, then wait for the inevitable killing strike.

And wait.

…And wait.

But the blow never comes– no white-hot stab of pain, no sting of a kick to the ribs, no blunt ache of broken bones– just a sickeningly sodden crunch of flesh and bone. A wet spray paints your back. Your tattered robes easily soak up the warm liquid, causing you to flinch from the sudden moisture. Even through the rush of confusion and fear, it doesn’t take you long to realize what it is. The scent is unmistakable.

Your heartbeat pounds in your ears as you struggle to catch up with your surroundings. By all means, you should be dead: the newest addition to a Night Lord’s skin cloak, or at the very least in excruciating pain. But you aren’t. 

Tentatively, trembling, you withdraw your head from the cage of your arms, turning just enough to peer behind you. You gasp at the grisly sight. 

Crimson rivulets of blood drip down over massive navy blue gauntlets. A single enucleated eye dangles from the gore between its digits. The terminator, more mountain than man, holds the unmoving body of your persecutor up by what remains of his cranium and neck. It is little more than ribbons of meat now.

Bile rises in your throat. You struggle to force it back down. 

Bolted armor caked in blood– both dried and fresh, sunken deep into the recesses of the ceramite plating– gives off an aura of wrought iron and decay. The metallic tang permeates the air around him, hanging heavy in the poorly ventilated armory. His scarred skin looks sickly pale. Greasy. Dehydrated. Aside from deep black eyes that watch you as a predator observes prey, the most prominent feature on his face is a wicked scar: a tear in his upper lip that exposes maxilla and sharp teeth alike. The shock of black hair on his head still has the impression of his helmet on it.

Without so much as a sound, he had come up from behind and grabbed the smaller Night Lord by the face, yanking them back into the crux of his chestplate and pauldron with enough force to shatter the hardened skull of an astartes. 

The massive marine throws the limp corpse of his former brother aside. The impact of metal on metal causes your ears to ring as a thousand pounds of lifeless ceramite strikes the wall, immediately followed by a disgusting wet slop of pulverized brain matter spilling onto the floor. If you had been on the Nightfall for any less time, you would have screamed. The shock almost prevents you from registering that you’re being spoken to.

“Get up.”

The terminator’s voice is that of rolling thunder and coarse gravel, resonating deep within your chest and leaving your heart fluttering with trepidation. His words had been spoken no louder than conversational, and yet they had you shooting up to your feet as if they had been shouted. Your wobbly legs nearly give out beneath you from how quickly you rise from the floor, croaking a shaky, “Yes, my lord.”

He removes his helmet from where it is magnetized to his belt with a click, placing it down on the bench you had been cowering behind. The tusks on it are as long as your forearm and nearly as thick. A faint decal of a skull is painted around the red lenses, chipped and fading but almost cartoonishly cute in contrast to the rags of flesh and weathered bones decorating the rest of his armor. 

The new Night Lord doesn’t seem to find it nearly as amusing as you do. He pushes the helmet in your direction, and you clamber to catch it before it hits the ground, not wanting to incur his wrath by dropping it so soon after he had just saved your life. The metal is heavy in your arms, tusks dangerously close to puncturing your throat.

“Clean it,” he barks. 

You grab your wash rag from the floor and shake it out. You do not have to be told twice.

[Part 2]

[stari-hun]

More No Storm but Vertin has a Time Traveling Arcanum Content

Inaccurately Named Modern AU

* Apeiron

I think with like knowledge and math becoming more accessible sooo many people in Apeiron would go to the outside world to share their knowledge because 77 (37s mom) showed that even the people most faithful to their school of thought are interested in calculation machines. Give them Mathway.com and people would lose their minds.

6 would be a professional gamer. In fact he’d take so well to modern society that he’d be one of those people thriving in the 2020 lockdown and being away from Apeiron. Afterwards he’d also recover fast and put daily walks into his schedule or something cause he knows how badly his physical would’ve gotten. 6 would have an Instagram that’s the weirdest thing ever. People use it as inspiration for arg characters because he unintentionally posts with the vibe of someone extremely inhuman, and even though with the internet most humans would be aware of nonhuman arcanist they’d still be like what… There’s several video essays breaking down theories on who or what he might be. On the other side his posts are all pictures of objects he sees on daily walks that he sees have interesting dimensions to them or placement in a scene. The issue is that he doesn’t give any preamble or context to his math like 210 who wants to share math with the world would, or 37 who genuinely wants to teach, he just drops it in the caption and closes the app. He’d also have a YouTube explaining how he wins matches with others and insane speedrun content and how he beats games in under three minutes in extremely stupid calculations and exploits. His uploads are once in a blue moon but he’s a really popular faceless YouTuber (unlike 37 he reads comments and thinks about the questions he gets a lot, and even answers them in other videos). Also his like daily wanderings until he wants to go back home and risk interaction with others.

37 would get ahold of the internet like fish to water. She’d be an early YouTuber on 6’s recommendation and get super popular without realizing it. Her upload schedule is a “think of something start recording it and post with little to no editing” kinda style that for her ends up being 6-12 videos per week. 37 probably wouldn’t even realize there’s a comment section but Sophia knows it. Sometimes she’ll relay the comments to her from fans if they’re questions or constructive, but she mostly keeps them for herself because she’s happy 37 is branching out even if she isn’t entirely meaning too. I think 37’s content is a personality type. She’s giving constructive lessons that are informative but her personality and voice made her gain an audience mostly there to listen to her as background noise while she does homework. She does have a very loyal core audience of economists and radiologists since the topic she circles back around to the most is patterns in the weather and how they can be applied to daily life. Her most viewed video would be a super complicated explanation on how to predict when the next storm will happen in your area, and the top comment is a link to a website where someone made it into a calculator (it works with like a 5% chance of error). Also fun fact Vertin tried to use it once and the website was down for a week after she tried it. Sophia would have more kids centered content. Her follower base would mostly be parents who sit their kids in front of an iPad during work, but heavily monitoring their internet use and want them to watch content that’s good for them. She’d be faceless but unintentionally blow up super hard for story reading content, and her process for making up original stories. Afterwards she’d take a huge social media break entirely, only helping 37 with hers before slowly going back to her usual audiobook content with locked comments.

On that note, it’s slightlyyyy canon based, but I also think 210 would become good friends with Sweetheart after the island opened up and he reached out to her through Pandora to be their liaison. They’d do a ton of promotions and fashion statements. 210 already has an established interest in beauty, arts, and how they tie to math, and Sweetheart as a person who’s mathematically perfect would be his best excuse to study arts. Then Sweetheart would enjoy the company of any asexual, especially if they’re good for her image, and 210 is genuinely there to vibe and enjoy the beauty of the world. I also feel like he’d have one of those instagrams where he’s super popular for his looks but vast majority of his posts are sky pics and pictures of flora he sees.

I think in the story Sweetheart and Pandora are already on pretty good terms but I think in a Modern!Twist AU Pandora would be even more active in her writing. I think she’d have a small but famous journalism company where she employs only those she deems have a fresh perspective in a way she can’t supply. I talk about it in my other post, but Marcus interns there after getting an associates degree journalism during her dual enrollment and finishing Highschool. 210 and her run top series in UTTU for numbers and art analysis in a way people hadn’t thought of before, and Marcus runs a deep dive on historical spaces and the hidden stories within them.

UTTU would sometimes have interview segments where guest slots of an employee’s choosing (approved of by Pandora) will get a special feature. Windsong is the most reoccurring interviewee alongside Vila for research papers in ley lines and ecosystem observations respectively. Both are very popular features every time due to how they provide perspective on Marcus’ and 210’s segments.

[shakingparadigm]

Everyone is all about how Ivan and Luka are similar but I think of all the alien stage contestants it’s round 2 till that is most similar to round 5 luka. They both used the stage to liberate themselves from their abusers even if it meant completely and mercilessly destroying their opponents in their process. They even both are delighted in the actions they took (till smiling at the end of his round even as the guards push him down to beat him and luka smiling even as mizi beats him). We’ve even seen an extra where till looks down on other pet-humans and this is also similar to luka

This is SUCH an interesting observation. I've drawn a few parallels between Luka and Till before, but their onstage power trips didn't register to me due to how different they were in motivation and execution. The main idea is definitely the same, though. They dominate the stage in a way that strikes fear into the hearts of the opponent. Once the song starts up, the other party knows they don't even stand a chance.

We know that Till has a competitive streak as shown in the YouTube short, but it's something that flares up during certain moments and isn't consistent. It's already been established that Till couldn't care less about the show in the long run, the only reason he continues on is for Mizi. Once she left the competition, he completely lost spirit. It is important to note how aggressive he is when competitive, though.

"Weak human pets"... Till in this clip shares the same confidence as Luka, who is completely sure that he can win over any opponent.

Their difference lies in the intent. In a post that explains the making of ROUND 2, VIVINOS states that Till is normally shy and timid, but it's his love for Mizi that makes him strong. He's aggressive on this stage because he has a message to send to her, and he overpowers his opponent because he can't afford to be interrupted, to lose her attention. I believe it was the Anakt Kit that stated Till was prone to getting carried away in the heat of a performance. Bashing open Freddie seemed like a last-ditch effort to get Mizi to look at him, which is why he was so happy at the end. Because she finally did. Sure, he was liberated on that stage, but he wasn't truly chasing that feeling of control in the same way Luka is. Despite all the abuse, Till fiercely held onto his own autonomy and fought back whenever he could.

Luka, on the other hand, has almost no part of himself that remains his own. He toys with his prey on stage in order to gain that feeling of control he so lacks in life. Unlike Till, who dominates through sheer aggression and intensity, Luka rules the stage in a manner that's calm and collected. Not only is his play calculated, it's consistent. A role he falls into easily, comfortably, and often. He overwhelms the opponent because it gives him a sense of power, he views lowly of other humans because not only was he raised differently, he was quite literally built differently. It's all he knows how to do.

Till performs for Mizi and Luka performs for control. Although their motivations are different, both have proven themselves capable of taking the stage and providing a fierce competition. This is extra exciting if we think about how Till might burst back to life in ROUND 7. Luka might actually meet his match, and we might witness the most intense round in ALNST, with both competitors trying desperately to override each other.

[bullfrawgs]

I just read 45k words of trans Death Note fic

And I need to talk about it. @catboymettaton 's "Would Estrogen Save Light Yagami" is a masterpiece. It has an incredible understanding both of what makes Death Note work as a series, and more importantly a rarely seen part of the transgender experience :tm: put on primary display.

Analysis and Link to the fic under the cut

Death Note is, at its core, *incredibly* camp. There is no way to discuss the Potato Chip scene without discussing its use of heightened melodrama to get a laugh at what should be (and is!) an incredibly dramatic part of the series' cat and mouse chase. A lot of the series' most powerful moments are ones that are undercut (I would argue intentionally) for humor by the sincerity of its drama. Granted, I have not watched Death Note (beyond a 3 episode viewing in Anime Club) in almost a decade. But neither am I caught up in Fandom interpretations. When I think about Death Note at all it is almost entirely through the incredible youtube videos of people putting Light and L into different, sillier, confrontations and watching the drama as each of them tries to calculate a reaction. All reactions falling on the axis of being In/Out of character for Light Yagami's persona as Light Yagami, 18 year old college boy, and the axis of Matching/Dodging the presumed psychological profile of the serial killer Kira, all balanced on the knife's-edge third axis that Light is too much of a try-hard to ever just admit he was wrong or didn't know something, rising to the bait every time when the only winning game was not to play.

But that's just Death Note proper. The comedy of the parodies comes from the same camp as the source material, sometimes with a heightened comedy poking fun at how abstract the topics of these verbal jousts can be. Would Light Yagami like Charizard more? Would only a serial killer be a fan of Chikorita?

Which brings us to what makes Would Estrogen Save Light Yagami so brilliant. By ""pretending"" to be a trans woman (genuinely unironically a way better plan than his in-canon plan of reading a playboy while looking disinterested and fully clothed for 20 minutes) we get an entire extra axis to our silly verbal jousts. If Light Light, is Light Kira, and is Light Trans? She needs to drop hints to her transgender status, while not being so obvious that they are disregarded as a Kira ploy, but not so unsubtle that they go ignored as a dropped Kira ploy. And the secret morphing from fake decoy secret to real secret to eventually just out and public trans status redoubles these stakes yet again.

What Catboy Mettaton has done is write an incredible story making fun of essentially my life for the past 5 years. I started Estrogen 5 Years Ago, and then went about hiding that I was doing so, while trying to prod for tiny hints to see if it was safe to come out. As it turns out, everybody from my classmates at the religious college I was only at for literally a month after starring E, the congregants of my transphobic church I've since left, and basically every member of my family have individually deduced that something *like* "me being trans" is going on, but nobody wanted to talk about it so I spent the whole time thinking I was just really good at being stealth. The entire time, I was trying to navigate being true to myself and living in a way that made me genuinely comfortable (and advanced my plans of being a serial killer) and doing/saying things to assuage suspicion. "Oh no, somebody might be catching on, quick, say something normal and masculine" "So uhhhh how about that Sports Ball, huh?" "Nailed it".

Frequently the closeted life (which, reminder, I was incredibly bad at) felt like the exact sorts of cat and mouse chases seen throughout the front half of the story, and catching that parallel and plugging it back into Death Note is a work of pure genius.

This is the primary, but not even the only, form of extremely clever parallelism in the fic, especially in the front half. The forum posts debating Kira's gender wouldn't seem out of place directly adjacent to discourse surrounding any of a dozen transgender or gender-ambiguous characters in Japanese media (Lily Zombieland Saga, Brisket Guilty Gear, Astolfo Fate, etc).

Anyway I've now written about 800 words about a fanfic, and I have another tangential thought to throw into a reblog so I should probably do my homework or something.

10/10, would recommend, I laughed like a dozen times, I nearly cried at the ending, I'm ravenously waiting for the next major continuation.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60164230/chapters/153525865

[ofthecaravel]

Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight)

Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka (kinda?)

Summary: Ghost hunter extraordinaire Danny Wagner takes on Kiszka Manor with a Ouija board and a dream. Luckily, the ghosts like him. One of them likes him a lot.

Tags: Ghosts, mentions of murder/death/disease/suicide, arguments, majority silly goofy I promise!!!!

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: My submission for the GVF Writers Halloween Event organized by the wonderful @hearts-hunger! Such a fun idea and I'm excited to participate.

Prompt #2: Real Haunted House

--

“Hey guys! Welcome back to my channel! Today, I’m at the famous haunted Kiszka Manor to investigate its history and see if we can get in touch with the spirits that haunt these grounds!”

Danny took a confident step back as he grinned wildly at the camera, his hand moving from a wave to a theatrical gesture to accompany his continuing speech. 

“This building has been abandoned ever since the mysterious string of deaths that plagued its halls finally came to an end in 1899 with the death of its last living inhabitant, Samuel Kiszka, the youngest member of the family that had lived in the house since it was built. The house was sold to new owners a few years later, but they lasted no more than two months before fleeing, claiming that the rampant paranormal activity was making it impossible to live there. Since then, countless paranormal investigators have braved a night within these walls, but nobody has ever made it to sunrise without experiencing something that they couldn’t explain.”

Danny reached off camera to grab the sleeping bag that he’d leaned up against the kitchen wall prior to shooting, giving it a little shake as he smirked.

“Tonight, I will be joining that brave league,” Danny explained. “And I’m going to catch it all on camera for your viewing entertainment. Stay tuned to see if I survive a night at Kiszka Manor.”

He ended the recording and let out a relieved breath, flipping the viewfinder in and setting the camera down on the table he’d laid his other equipment on. He startled when his movement jostled the sleeping bag and sent it unfurling down his torso. It swung down onto the dusty wooden floors, quickly gathering a cobwebbed dust bunny as he tried to shake it off. Danny grimaced and lifted it up, giving it another genuine shake.

“Aw, gross,” he said to himself, now much more quiet and meek that the camera was off. “Ew.”

-

In the parlor facing the kitchen doorway, the three spirits that did in fact haunt the house were watching Danny with an amused calculation. When they spoke, they spoke in synchrony.

“Dibs.”

-

After rolling his sleeping bag up with an annoyed huff, Danny ignored the chill running down his spine and the uncomfortable jerk of a nerve in his ear. A surely false sense of being watched started to overtake him the longer he stood in the empty mansion. And a mansion it certainly was, with three expansive stories just waiting for Danny and his camera to go exploring in…alone…at night…

Sometimes Danny wondered what his nights would be like if those silly ghost hunting videos he’d made in his college dorm hadn’t gone so viral and asserted him as a cornerstone of the Youtube ghost community. Maybe he’d be unwinding from a 9-5, lazy on the couch and warm from a home cooked dinner. Maybe there’d be someone there with him, laying their head on his chest and making light conversation.

But here he was. Standing with his hands on his hips in a pathetic attempt to gather any semblance of authority and trying not to shake in his shabby Nike sneakers as he noticed the retreating creep of daylight out of the corner of his eye. In a very old, probably asbestos filled house that was also probably full of ghosts that already hated his nosy guts. 

Great.

-

Luckily for Danny, there was something untrue about his assumption. The ghosts did not already hate him. Actually, they were quite taken with him.

“Is it just me, or do these guys keep getting cuter and cuter?” Josh cooed, coasting through the kitchen to assess Danny from every angle. “They must be putting something in the water these days.”

“Cradle robber,” Jake laughed, following his twin through the doorway.

“Back off, I called dibs first,” Sam complained, trailing behind them in his unsteady float. “He’s already talked about me. I have claim!”

“Oh yeah? Then what’s this?” Josh teased, shimmying up next to the light switch and pressing his translucent fingers into the wall. He gave them a wiggle with a challenging smile as the overhead light started to flicker, causing Danny’s head to jerk in surprise and his eyes to widen as Josh made the bulb flit a few more times before slowly burning it out. Danny strode to the light switch and gave it a few desperate flicks, never taking his eyes off of the light.

“That’s a cheap trick,” Sam accused, his lip curling as Josh removed himself from the wall and straightened his lapels. “He deserves some distinguished communication.”

“He’s not going to be any fun at all,” Jake sighed, already seemingly bored by Danny’s anxious stature. “It’s only fun when they’re skeptics. Let’s just toss some crystals from the chandelier and slam a door and get him out as soon as we can.”

“Oh, come on, it’s been ages since our last little ghost hunter,” Josh lamented, flopping over sideways into the air and landing as if he’d fallen onto a bed. “It’s nice to have some company.”

“We might actually be able to talk to him, too,” Sam noted excitedly, directing his older brother’s attention to the all too familiar board sticking out of one of Danny’s tote bags. “Now that I call dibs on.”

“What, so you can ask him if he like-likes anyone?” Jake teased, wiggling his eyebrows at Sam and letting out a laugh when Sam made an incredulous sound and floated into the next room. If Sam had still been in his body, they all knew his cheeks would have been flushed.

-

“Okay, guys, it’s been about an hour since I arrived, and I’m getting ready here to hopefully talk to some spirits.”

Danny had set himself up in one of the bedrooms on the second level, the one at the very end of the hall with a grand window that let in enough light for Danny to be able to see the Ouija board he’d placed on the carpet in front of him. 

“I still don’t understand how there’s people in the cameras,” Josh observed, pointing a finger at the viewfinder that Danny was reflected in. “I only see him. Is it like a telephone?”

“I couldn’t tell you,” Jake shrugged. He and Josh had settled on the four poster bed on the opposite wall, chatting amongst themselves while Danny lit a few candles and their younger brother giddily took post on the opposite side of the Ouija board. Sam was generally a pretty mopey ghost considering his circumstances, but there was something about this particular person that really piqued his interest. It was odd, especially to his brothers, but it was also too exciting to ignore.

For his brothers, it was odd for a different reason. It was concerning. 

“Alright,” Danny started, clearing his throat and trying to avoid stalling any more. “Let’s do this.”

He set the camera down on the end of the bed right in front of where the ghostly twins sat cross legged, and they mimed holding it steady and pressing the buttons with a collective giggle. Sam scowled at them and gestured for them to get away from it, knowing that their interaction with the technology could provide Danny with some interesting warped footage that would take away from his prospective Ouija interview. 

“I’ve set up camp here in the south wing of the house in the room that used to belong to Samuel, who I very briefly touched on earlier,” Danny explained to the camera, settling into the animated lecturing tone he adopted for his videos. “On the opposite end of the hallway are the rooms that belonged to his older brothers, Joshua and Jacob, who died a year before him.”

On the bed, Josh and Jake raised their hands like roll call, and Sam rolled his eyes at them.

“From what I’ve been able to find, it seems that Joshua contracted cholera in the spring of 1897 and suffered with it for a year before finally passing away in 1898, with his twin brother Jacob passing away just a few days later from an unrelated cardiac event that left their youngest brother alone in the estate.”

“Thank you again for that one, you guys,” Sam commented dryly. “That wasn’t super lonely or anything.”

“I still think it was very dramatic of you to die from heartbreak,” Josh snorted, nudging Jake.

“Who says it was heartbreak?” Jake teased right back. “I was simply so overcome with the joy of finally being free of you that I croaked.”

“I would like to try and run the spirit box in their rooms later on in the night, but I wanted to start in here,” Danny went on, setting the planchette on the board. “I couldn’t really find much about how Samuel died, except for that his autopsy reported some broken bones and internal injury. If I’m lucky, maybe he’ll tell me.”

“He jumped out a window!” Jake yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth. 

“Shut up!” Sam snapped. They both exchanged faces before Sam turned to give his full attention back to Danny, who was very hesitantly placing his first and middle fingers on the planchette. He waited for Danny to trace three circles before adding his own fingers to the wood, wishing for a moment that he was still able to feel anything at all so he could feel the warmth of Danny’s skin. Now that was something Sam missed: warmth.

“Is there anyone here who would like to talk to me?” Danny asked gingerly. Whenever he asked, he always hoped deep down that nobody would answer.

Unfortunately for him, Sam was eager to talk, and he concentrated all of his energy on very laboriously sliding the planchette over to his answer.

YES

Danny stared at the board for a second, trying to zero in on the twitch of muscles in his fingers and finally deducing that his subconscious must have moved the planchette. Danny had had plenty of paranormal experiences with shadow figures and moving doors, but he’d never been lucky with the Ouija board before.

“O-kay, that’s great,” Danny squeaked out. “Wow. Okay. Yeah. Can you tell me your name?”

S A M

It took a lot of effort to move the planchette and Sam figured his nickname would be enough. He wanted to preserve his energy so they could talk for as long as he wanted to.

“Ooh, keeping it casual, I see,” Josh sang. “You’re best friends already.”

“Sam,” Danny repeated, his heart racing so fast he worried it would freeze up. “Are you the same Sam who lived here? Samuel?”

YES

“Wow,” Danny blurted, flustered from this revelation. “It’s nice to meet you, Sam. I’m Danny. You, uh, your house is very nice.”

“Danny?” Jake echoed in a thin, nasally mockery. “Good grief, what’s with names these days? What’s so bad about Daniel?”

Sam glowered at him before steeling himself to reply again.

T H A N K Y O U

“You’re welcome,” Danny answered, still dumbfounded. 

He was talking to a real ghost. This was proof, if not for the camera but for himself. He knew his comments section would be filled with accusations, but Danny knew somewhere deep in his gut that it was not him rigging the game.

This was real.

“How old are you?” Danny asked, realizing with a panic that he wasn’t nearly as prepared as he’d hoped. He was really grasping for straws with his questions.

2 4

“Hey, so am I!” Danny laughed. Sam grinned and shivered at the sound. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard a laugh that wasn’t his own or his brothers, or one that wasn’t at the expense of their house from so-called ghost hunters far less courteous than Danny. Usually when Sam was around, people were screaming. But here was a laugh. It was a nice change of pace.

“Is it just you in the house?” Danny asked.

NO 

“Can I ask who else is here with you?” 

J J

“JJ?” Danny repeated with a confused frown. “Who’s JJ? OH, do you mean your brothers? Joshua and Jacob?”

“Come on, Sam, give him a little more to work with,” Jake scolded.

“My arms hurt,” Sam whined. “It’s not my fault your names have so many letters. He figured it out, anyways!”

YES

“Oh, well, hello to them, too,” Danny greeted nervously, looking around the room for where they may be lurking. “They don’t want to talk?”

NO 

“Any reason why?” 

E F F O R T

“It’s a lot of effort? To move it?”

YES

“Oh, so you can spell that but not Jacob? That’s too much work?”

“I’m sorry,” Danny apologized. “We can stop.”

When the planchette moved again, it was fast and aggressive.

NO NO NO

“Don’t scare him too bad,” Josh murmured, taking note of Danny’s tense body language and Sam’s frantic eyes. “Easy.”

“Okay, we’ll keep going,” Danny said, cringing at the slight shake in his voice. “Uh…sorry, I really wasn’t expecting a reply. I’m kind of blanking. You must get the Ouija board treatment all the time.”

NO 

“No? Really? I feel like that’s what everybody brings to haunted houses.”

Danny cringed again, breaking out in a cold sweat when he thought about what he’d said. Did Sam know he was dead? Was it a touchy subject? 2 years of ghost investigation and Danny was only now considering the ghost’s perspective. 

Sam watched Danny stick his tongue in his cheek and visibly ponder potential questions. He felt very grateful that Danny couldn’t see how intensely he was staring. Sam made detailed notes of the spray of freckles across his nose and the Botticelli furrow of his brows, the way his hair grew long and gathered at his shoulders in a way that Sam envied and never would’ve been allowed to do in his time. If he listened closely, he could hear his heart beating, panicked and bloody and alive. 

“What is death like?” Danny found himself asking, the words rushing out in a whisper. He couldn’t help himself. It was all he could think about in this place, with its silent halls and chatty spirits.

Sam smiled.

L I G H T 

“Light?”

C A L M

“Sam,” Josh warned. “Watch yourself.”

H A P P Y 

Danny felt a wave of relief pass over him at the affirmation. He’d long since forgotten that the camera was on and felt no sense of self consciousness at his little shiver of excitement.

“That sounds nice,” Danny smiled. “I think people worry that it’s all hellfire and empty spaces and whatnot, so that’s good to hear. I’m sorry you died so young. At least you avoided The Great Depression and stuff.”

“The who?” Sam said out loud to himself, earning a laugh from his brothers.

“Well,” Danny sighed. “I’m probably going to end this now. Is there anything else you want to tell me before I put the board away?”

Sam’s heart sank. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye. According to Danny, he’d be moving to the twins’ rooms next, and knowing them, they’d keep his spirit box chattering all night with their incessant scares. It wasn’t fair. Everybody always came to the house for Josh and Jake and their heart wrenching, freaky-deaky twin deaths and their boyish paranormal antics. 

When was the last time somebody had come here looking for him?

“Tell him he needs a haircut,” Jake suggested. “Tell him you’re Satan.”

“They always go running with that one,” Josh agreed. “What’s the other one? ZOZO? No clue where that comes from but it sure freaked out those guys from Seattle.” 

Sam ignored them. The only thing he could hear was Danny.

S T A Y

Danny chuckled nervously.

“Stay? Am I really such a great interviewer?”

S T A Y

Jake and Josh exchanged glances. 

“Okay, Sam, time to hang up,” Jake demanded, leaning forward off the side of the bed and pulling on Sam’s shoulder. “We are not doing this again.”

“He’s different,” Sam insisted, shrugging Jake off and moving his fingers on the planchette so that they spliced with Danny’s. The temperature change was subtle, but it was enough that Danny felt his fingers go cold. He eased up on the pressure he’d been applying out of fear that he’d begun to cut off his circulation.

“You said that about the last two,” Josh reminded harshly, joining Jake’s effort to try and pull Sam away from the board. “Back off. We’ll spook him on the spirit box and he’ll be out by the sunrise.”

W A N T 

Every alarm bell inside Danny’s gut was blaring full volume and he knew he needed to end the session and get going. He couldn’t help but keep glancing up at the empty space in front of him, trying to remember anything about Sam’s appearance from the online archives he’d used for research the night prior. It was only when he looked back down at the board did he catch a glimpse of something in his peripheral; a smudge of brown hair, pale skin…or was it the candlelight playing tricks on him?

“It’s been nice talking to you, Sam,” Danny blurted hurriedly, struggling to speak with such strong paranoia twisting in his stomach. “Goodbye, now!”

With an unheard frustrated shriek on Sam’s behalf, Danny circled the planchette three times again and pulled his hand back like it’d been resting on a hot stovetop. He let out a rattling breath of relief and turned back towards the camera, acknowledging it with a jolt and flashing the screen a relieved smile before scooping it off the bed. 

“You heard it here first, folks,” Danny announced with a breathless chuckle, pushing his curly bangs off his forehead. “Your man Dan is in hot demand on the grounds of Kiszka Manor.”

-

“You’ve got to control yourself, Sam, for heaven’s sake,” Josh reprimanded. 

Danny had left the room a few minutes ago, abandoning them with haste in favor of setting up motion detectors and a spirit box in Jake’s room at the other end of the hall. But the twins were in no hurry to go play with any of Danny’s toys yet. 

“Now you know why we don’t like you to interact,” Jake added, his words landing like a slap on Sam’s stormy face. “You get too involved.”

“Why are you two the only ones who ever get to have fun?” Sam yelled, getting to his feet and facing the wall away from them with his arms crossed haughtily. “Why am I in trouble? I’m an adult! I’m 149 years old! Leave me the hell alone!”

“If we could get away from you, we would,” Josh spat. “Trust me. But we can’t. And you’re not allowed to ‘have fun’ because your idea of fun is KILLI-”

“I’VE NEVER KILLED ANYBODY!” Sam howled, his hands coming up like claws next to his face. He still refused to look at either of his brothers.

“Then would you care to find another explanation for our forlorn ghostly companions in our attic? I’m sure they’d love to hear it from you!”

“JUST GET OUT OF MY ROOM!”

“That boy should count himself pretty lucky he remembered to close the portal,” Jake sneered at Sam’s back. “We’re going to go give him a scare or two and then we’re going to leave him alone. And I recommend you do too. Do you hear me?”

Sam fell deathly silent, the weight of his fury draining any last remnants of warmth that the candle had left behind and plunging the thermostat as low as he felt.

“Christ,” was the last thing Sam heard muttered before he felt them leave the room, making sure to let the door slam behind them and conjure up a muffled scream of fright from Danny down the hall. 

Once Sam was certain they were gone, he relaxed his incorporeal body out of his act of tense rage and turned to look over his shoulder at the door. He was wearing the lazy smile that he’d been unable to wipe off his face and had to hide from his family. That was a curse of his that he carried into his afterlife; he just couldn’t help but wear his heart on his sleeve. 

Except that Sam didn’t have a heart anymore. It had died with him, of course, but he was pretty sure it had given its last beat on the day that he was left the only surviving member of his family. With a house too big, a backyard overpopulated with graves, and a town that offered only thoughts and prayers in his time of need, Sam lost his ability to feel. It had been so blank inside his chest that Sam figured the only explanation was that his heart had simply shriveled up and withered away. He’d gone looking for it in death but found himself somehow twice as lonely even with a reunion as sweet as the one he’d had with his siblings. 

But now he’d found it again, that rhythmic pulse that he heard from the ribcage of a polite ghost hunter that had been delivered to his door by what seemed like the hand of God. He was sure of it, actually. Danny was here because he was meant to be Sam’s, meant to drive away all that endless, bleak loneliness and bring back his capacity to love.

Why else would have Danny done the closing circles on the Ouija board in the same direction as he had the first time? Every paranormal professional knew you ended things by moving the planchette in a counterclockwise direction. And Danny really seemed like he knew his stuff. 

Sam smiled wider. Danny must’ve left the portal open on purpose. Just for him. 

Down the hall, Sam could hear another dampened scream from Danny, no doubt from the twins tossing a ghostly buzzword in between radio waves. On the bed, Sam noticed for the first time that Danny had thrown his sleeping bag across its expanse, already unzipped and ready to receive him. 

Them. 

It may have been unbeknownst to everyone except for Sam, but the night had just begun.

--

[danmeichael]

What type of twitch streamers would the svsss characters be?

i think i've said before i don't think most of the characters would be twitch streamers, most of them aren't the right type of attention-seeking for that kind of thing.

i'm currently watching trackmania videos and i think shen yuan is the right kind of insane for that. by far his most popular streams, though, would be his ban review streams where he shreds people to filth over their unban requests.

binghe has the potential for the streamer's temperament, though it honestly depends on how i interpret him, but i'm not sure what games he'd play. cozy games are the pidw option -- everything the viewers want, an incredibly beautiful man in eyeliner and a v-neck playing cute little farming games or whatever, but incredibly hollow in terms of binghe's enjoyment in them i think. he might like soulsborne games, or he might do cooking streams, but i think he'd probably enjoy something with pvp the most. he spends multiple days trying to speedrun a trackmania map sy holds a record on to get his attention.

sha hualing is the only bitch here with the true twitch streamer's temperament. she's clever, calculating, and driven in addition to being gorgeous. she strikes me as someone unafraid to play the role of the exact kind of streamer twitchbros get reaaaally mad about: ditzy, cute, lowcut tops and short skirts, shallow view farming material where she just watches tiktok/youtube/other twitch streams and comments on them. a lot of people hate her because she's shallow coomer-bait, but you don't hit it big by just sitting there and looking pretty. sha hualing is undeniably charismatic and willing to put in the time and work to secure her position. the controversies she gets involved in only boost her engagement, and she's probably in the top 3% of earners. she's turned it into a science. she watches over her analytics like a warlord looks over trade routes. she intentionally starts a rumor that her and binghe slept together at twitchcon and binghe is too busy mooning over sy to care. this is not about the love of streaming or her deciding to simply broadcast another passion. success is a game to her and she intends to win, no matter how many fake teary-eyed apology videos it takes to get there.

nobody else would stream unless they were forced at gunpoint.

[nightfurynova1217]

Alice (Reference Sheet 2025)

Alice Noelle Birthdate: Feb/14/1915 Female (She/Her) Asexual Soul Trait: None/Soulless Species: Human Clone (Demigoddess)

Unmarried / Single Daughter to Vanessa Noelle Granddaughter to Linda Noelle Friend to Lloyd Wullh, Avon Usero

-5’8” tall (173 cm) - 6’0” on toes (183 cm) -Brown right eye, blue left eye -Brown streaks in hair -Small breast -Elastic waistband on pants, shirt is tucked in -Always walks on toes, toes spread for balance -Hair length is just past her hips -Blood splatter patterns are not specific, so go wild and make your own -No skin or hair shows in alternate outfit

Magical prodigy, and Former Princess of the Underworld, but has since left that title behind her, and now lives as a nomad. Being Soulless, she views the world through completely practical eyes, as empathy is almost a foreign concept to her. She holds no reservations to kill, and will do so if it in any way benefits her. With every life she takes, however, she keeps a single drop of blood from every victim, including animals, to stain her clothes as a twisted token of respect; a physical reminder of every life spent to keep herself alive, that she then carries with her. She is, however, very curious by nature, and loves to learn. Her typical behavior is quiet and calculating, usually studying people and things from afar. But whenever necessary, she will act with varying personalities that will, statistically, get her the best results in whatever situation she finds herself in. Her favorite of these is a very bubbly and energetic personality, similar to Pinkie Pie in MLP.

Time Taken: 3:00 hours

DeviantArt Instagram AO3 YouTube Discord: @nightfurynova4112

[smoshsfavoritepizzaplace]

1/2 Unfortunately, those estimates for smosh's earnings are likely overly positive. Social blade is generally considered to be pretty accurate for views and subscribers, but less so for earnings. This is because it takes an average of what advertising agencies pay youtube, rather than taking into consideration different niches.

Different niches are more or less profitable than others because advertising agencies deem certain consumers more profitable than others. The amount of money they pay youtube to show their ads is known as the CPM (cost per thousand views) Comedy is one of the least profitable, with the average CPM being $1. This means that the average comedy video will earn $1 for every 1000 views it gets. The CPM differs depending on the nationality of the viewer, too. American viewers are deemed the most valuable, so Smosh probably gets more than the average CPM for their videos, but comedy is still regarded as being one of the less profitable niches.

The CPM is what the companies pay youtube, so it doesn't reflect what creators get, since youtube takes a 45% cut of the money. Then we also have to take into account that socialblade has started counting individual shorts views in their view count. Shorts are far less profitable than long form content, earning a CPM of $0.09. Lastly, taxes. California has some of the highest businesses taxes in the whole country, with a flat tax of 8.85%.

I'll do some rough estimates of what smosh make from advertising alone. I'll use their latest stats as reference, although we're just about to enter into a lower viewing season in youtube so these estimates will likely be too optimistic. I also have no way of separating out shorts views from long form views so that will also throw the numbers off a bit.

Anon also sent in: Smosh Pit has gained 74M views over the last 30 days. Taking into account that companies pay by the thousand, that means 74000 views are profitable (74M/1000). Using the average CPM of $1, that means smosh pit generated 74k over the last month. Youtube will take 45% of that, leaving 40.7k for smosh (74k*0.55). After taxes, that's ~ $37.1k (40.7k-(40.7*0.0885)). Assuming the views stay consistent throughout the entire year, that gives an annual income of just under $445.2k (37.1k*12). Using the same logic, smosh cast will get just over $96k, and smosh main will get just over $120k. Smosh games is a little different because it's a different niche. Gaming is one of the lower earning niches but is still higher than comedy, with an average CPM of $4.55. Therefore, smosh games will get the most money from ads with an annual estimate of just over $1M. Anthony's channel is a little trickier because I don't know what niche it is. Before the merger, it was probably education, which has a CPM of $9.09 (although a lot of his videos were demonetized because of the serious topics he covered). The shift in his content since merging with smosh has also killed his channel. He used to outperform all of the smosh channels with only one video a week and, at his peak, would still be outperforming them today (his peak was just under 100M views in a month. He also had a much smaller crew. Since the merger, he's lost over 90% of his viewership and has moved into more of a comedy/ entertainment niche, which is a far lower CPM. He's also losing tens of thousands of subscribers. I'm guessing he gets just over $5k a month. The total sum of smosh's estimated adsense money amounts to ~ $1,000,666. l assume they'll make up the money elsewhere with sponsorships, merch, live shows, and memberships (although anthony has stopped doing perks for members on his channel and smosh barely does any anymore for their channel so idk how healthy their membership situation is. I agree with the estimate for salaries being ~$4M for crew. Cast is a bit trickier because some of the freelancers appear more than some of the full-timers. Correction to my anthony estimate - my calculations are actually showing he'd get $5k a YEAR. okay scratch that, it was 5k a month. That means he's getting around 60k a year, which puts the total smosh is earning from ads up to ~$1,000,720 per year

Some of those were multiple asks but I put them together to make it easier to reply to. If your math is correct $1m a year sounds phenomenal. But imo, I feel like Smosh money wise is either doing really well or not as good as we would think. They do have like 50(?) ish members or maybe a little less so that’s a lot of splitting up to do and different wages for different jobs. Whoever does the math on how to pay them is really doing God’s work. I’m not horrible at math but I couldn’t figure that out in the slightest