#triangle pattern in trading

[quanttrix1]

Triangle Pattern in Trading | Simple Guide for Everyone

Triangle Pattern in Trading: Master the Market Moves

Trading the financial markets may seem like rocket science, but what if I told you it’s more like spotting shapes in clouds? Yes, seriously. One of the most powerful chart patterns traders rely on is the triangle pattern, and understanding it could be your edge in the market—especially the symmetrical triangle pattern.

This article breaks it all down for you in the simplest way possible—no complicated terms, no financial degree required. Plus, we’ll show how tools like the best algo trading software in India and online trading software can help make the process smoother.

Learn the symmetrical triangle pattern in trading. Discover how it works using the best algo trading software in India & top online trading software.

What is a Triangle Pattern in Trading?

Imagine squeezing a spring between your fingers. It tightens and builds up pressure. Then one day—snap! It shoots out. That’s exactly what a triangle pattern does on a stock chart. It shows a market that’s consolidating, building pressure before breaking out in one direction.

A triangle pattern forms when the price of a stock, crypto, or any tradable asset moves within converging trendlines, forming a shape that literally looks like a triangle.

Types of Triangle Patterns

There are three main types of triangle patterns, and each tells a different story:

Symmetrical Triangle – The sides converge equally. It’s a sign of uncertainty.

Ascending Triangle – Flat top, rising bottom. Often a bullish sign.

Descending Triangle – Flat bottom, falling top. Usually a bearish signal.

In this guide, we’ll focus mostly on the symmetrical triangle pattern, but it’s useful to know the others too.

What is the Symmetrical Triangle Pattern?

Think of the symmetrical triangle as a tug of war between buyers and sellers. Both sides are strong, but neither can overpower the other—yet. So the price bounces between narrowing support and resistance levels.

Here’s the key part: this pattern doesn’t tell you the direction of the breakout, but it strongly suggests a breakout is coming soon. It’s like a pressure cooker ready to explode—up or down.

Why Triangle Patterns Matter

You don’t need to predict the market perfectly to succeed—you just need to be ready for when it moves. Triangle patterns help with that.

Key Benefits:

Anticipate breakouts

Identify entry and exit points

Avoid trading during uncertain periods

Spotting these patterns can give you an edge over traders who are just guessing.

How to Spot a Symmetrical Triangle

Here’s how to identify it like a pro:

Look for lower highs and higher lows

Draw two trendlines—one sloping down from above, one sloping up from below

The lines converge toward each other like scissors

Once these lines start coming together, traders watch closely for the breakout.

Breakouts: The Big Reveal

Breakouts are when the price bursts out of the triangle formation.

Breakout Direction Tips:

Volume spike? Expect a strong move.

Break above the upper line? Likely bullish.

Break below the lower line? Likely bearish.

No pattern is 100% accurate, but triangle breakouts often lead to explosive price action.

Volume and the Triangle Pattern

Volume is like the “voice” of the market. During a symmetrical triangle formation, volume tends to drop, showing less activity. But right before a breakout, volume usually spikes, confirming that the market is about to move big.

This is where having powerful online trading software helps—these platforms can alert you to changes in volume instantly.

Triangle Patterns vs. Other Patterns

How does the triangle compare to other chart patterns?

Pattern

Key Signal

Symmetrical Triangle

Uncertainty followed by breakout

Head and Shoulders

Trend reversal

Flags & Pennants

Continuation of trend

Double Top/Bottom

Major reversal points

The symmetrical triangle pattern is one of the few that doesn’t try to predict direction—it helps you prepare for it instead.

Common Mistakes to Avoid

Even the best tools can't fix poor trading habits. Avoid these rookie mistakes:

Entering before the breakout – Wait for confirmation.

Ignoring volume – It’s your early warning system.

Misidentifying the pattern – Practice drawing trendlines correctly.

Overtrading – Not every triangle leads to a big move.

Take your time. It’s not about catching every move—it’s about catching the right one.

How Algo Trading Makes It Easier

Can software help you catch these patterns faster? Absolutely.

With the best algo trading software in India, you can automate:

Pattern recognition

Volume analysis

Trade execution on breakouts

This means no more staring at charts all day. The software does the scanning and alerts you when it’s go-time.

Top Online Trading Software in India

Here are some of the best platforms where you can trade triangle breakouts:

Quanttrix – Known for its high-speed algorithms and pattern recognition.

Zerodha Kite – Popular for its easy interface and charting tools.

Upstox Pro – Combines speed with smart analytics.

Angel One – AI-driven alerts and customizable charts.

These online trading software platforms make it easier for Indian traders to take advantage of technical patterns like triangles.

Backtesting the Triangle Pattern

Before you risk real money, test it out.

Backtesting means applying the triangle pattern to past market data to see how well it worked.

Many platforms (like Quanttrix or TradingView) allow backtesting. Use this feature to:

Learn how often triangle breakouts succeed

Understand what conditions increase success

Improve your strategy over time

Real-Life Examples of Triangle Trading

Let’s say a stock like Reliance Industries starts forming a symmetrical triangle. You draw your trendlines and notice a breakout with strong volume on the upside.

If you had set an automated trade using algo software, you could’ve caught the breakout without lifting a finger.

Triangle patterns show up across stocks, crypto, commodities—you name it. They’re universal.

Tips for Beginners

Starting out? Here are a few things to keep in mind:

Use demo accounts – Practice without risk

Stick to one pattern – Master triangles first

Set alerts on your online trading software

Keep a trading journal – Log your triangle trades

Master one pattern and let it become your bread and butter before branching out.

Conclusion: Turning Shapes into Profits

Triangle patterns aren’t just pretty shapes—they’re predictive tools used by savvy traders around the world. The symmetrical triangle pattern in particular is a reliable signal of upcoming volatility.

With the help of the best algo trading software in India and reliable online trading software, you can turn this pattern into profit—without having to watch charts 24/7.

Trading doesn't have to be overwhelming. Sometimes, all you need is the ability to recognize a triangle.

FAQs

What does a symmetrical triangle pattern indicate? It shows price consolidation and signals an upcoming breakout, though it doesn’t predict the direction.

Can beginners use triangle patterns effectively? Yes! With some practice and the right tools, even beginners can spot and trade triangle patterns.

How does algo trading help with triangle patterns? Algo trading can automatically detect triangle formations and execute trades once a breakout is confirmed.

What is the best online trading software in India for chart patterns? Quanttrix, Zerodha Kite, and Upstox Pro are popular choices that support detailed charting and pattern detection.

Should I trade every triangle pattern I see? No. Only trade confirmed breakouts, ideally supported by volume and market conditions.

[stockexperttrading]

Unlock the Secrets of Trading with Top Chart Patterns! Explore the world of chart patterns with Funded Traders Global. From understanding the basics of technical analysis to recognizing common chart patterns like head and shoulders, double tops, and flags, our blog equips you with the knowledge to enhance your trading skills. Discover advanced patterns like pennants, wedges, and harmonic patterns, and gain practical tips for effective trading. Improve your risk management, pinpoint entry and exit points, and combine chart patterns with technical indicators. Start your journey towards trading success today with Funded Traders Global!

[chilling-seavey]

I got a request for George, watching him teach your son how to play backgammon while you nurse your newborn daughter

↳ A/N The sweet vision this put in my mind just needed to be written down! I still feel like I didn't write it as nicely as I can picture it but I hope you guys enjoy <3 a little fluff for your Friday night

↳ Pairings: George Russell x Fem!Reader (NO use of y/n)

↳ Word Count: 1.6k

↳ Warnings: None, it's unedited if that needs a warning lol

As the sun dipped toward the horizon, the once vibrant blue sky softened into a gentle shade of periwinkle. The early evening was tranquil, with the rhythmic lapping of waves against the yacht’s hull filling the warm Mediterranean air with a soothing cadence.

You were surprised your son was still going after a full day of playing in the sun. He had spent hours leaping off the yacht into the crystal-clear ocean (only after you and George had spent at least an hour convincing him that no sharks would be involved), zooming around on the jet ski with George at a toddler-friendly speed, and concocting endless games on deck—games that always seemed to involve a lot of running. Despite a brief hour’s nap in the cabin, too excited to miss out on any fun, he was still going strong well past dinner.

With bedtime approaching, and in desperate need of winding him down, George struck a deal: he’d trade another swim in the sea for a fun game on the yacht. Out came the backgammon board—George’s beloved set, worn with years of use—ready to be set up on the deck table. Your son knelt on a chair, eyes wide with anticipation, his tiny hands eagerly reaching for the round pieces as George arranged them, trying his best to keep the game intact before it even began, while explaining the rules to your curious two-and-a-half-year-old.

You smiled fondly at him from your spot on the bench beside George—who was seemingly permanently shirtless on this vacation and in only his swim shorts—with your two week old baby daughter fussing in your arms. Her sweet face was scrunched up in displeasure, hungry and wanting to eat, until you finally got her to latch onto your breast with practiced ease and she quieted right down with a content sigh. You gently brushed your hand over her light downy hair and cradled her comfortably in your arms, supporting her head as she startled to suckle and swallow contentedly. 

From beside you, already a bit into describing the game to your son, George pointed to one of the two dice on the board, asking him, “How many dots is this?”

Your son stared at the two dice on the mahogany board, his little lips pursed in thought. He shifted on his knees on his chair before glancing across at George and mumbling a, “Two?”

“Yes, good boy, this one’s two.” George then moved his finger to point to the second one, “What about this one?”

“Three.”

“Not quite. Try again?”

“Five.”

“That’s it. That’s five.” George folded his arms on the table top, glancing down to the board set up between them, “So you can pick any of your white pieces and move them two spots or five spots to start. Which one do you want to move?”

The little boy analyzed the board for a moment, eyeing the way the white and brown pieces were so meticulously arranged in a pattern. Finally, he pointed to one of his white pieces, his little index finger poking the circle.

“Okay, and how many spots would you like to move that piece? Two or five?”

“Two.” your son said matter-of-factly.

“Two, okay.” George leaned forward again, resting his finger at the tip of the point on which the little boy’s choice piece was resting, “So we’ll count two triangles counter-clockwise to find its new spot.”

Although your toddler hadn’t the foggiest idea what ‘counter-clockwise’ meant, he nodded at the words of his father and followed him trustingly. When George moved his finger to the next point beside the first, the two counted together, “One…”

And then the next one, “Two.”

George moved your son’s chosen piece to that new point. The little boy beamed proudly. 

“Brilliant.” George told him, “Now you still have five spots to move. Which white piece do you want to move five spots?”

Another glance at the board and your son pointed to another random white piece, “That one”

“Okay, count five triangles with me.”

Again, George rested his finger at the tip of the chosen point, moving spot by spot as they counted together to reach five. Except, the point on which they landed, already held a collection of George’s brown chips. He looked across the table at the little boy with a flat, “Oh.”

Wide eyed, your son looked back at him, startled by the sudden shift in George’s demeanor.

George explained, “Daddy has pieces there so you can’t move there.”

“Why?”

“Because if the other person has two or more pieces on that spot, you can’t go there.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s the rules.”

The little boy’s face scrunched up in annoyance, eyebrows furrowing over judging blue eyes. 

George licked away his forming smile, instructing him, “Pick another piece to move five spots.”

The toddler pointed to the same piece.

“No, buddy-” George laughed softly again, covering that line of white pieces with his hand, “These are the ones you can’t move.”

As if an avid problem solver at not even three, your son told him like it was the clear solution with a point to the other direction on the board, “Go that way.”

“You can only go this way.” George said, gesturing counter-clockwise for the boy.

“Why?” the toddler huffed.

“Because that’s how the game works.”

Your son pouted and flopped back onto his bum on the chair, crossing his little arms over his chest and narrowing his eyes at his father. George struggled to hold back his fond smile at the adorableness of his little boy no matter how mad and frustrated the toddler tried to appear. 

As George gently coaxed him to continue the game, you turned your attention to the baby nestled in your arms. She suckled contentedly at your breast, her long lashes fluttering against her full cheeks as she gazed up at you, fighting the pull of sleep. One tiny hand rested against your chest, her presence a warm, comforting weight. It was a true blessing, you thought, that both your children were the near spitting image of George from birth, with his big blue eyes and soft blonde hair that you wondered might darken as they grew up, just as his had. 

Your fingers gently traced the contours of her tiny frame, feeling the soft fabric of her frilly bathing suit, down to her chunky little legs, still naturally bent as if she were still trying to uncurl from nine months inside you. With a comforting pat on her bum, you smiled tenderly, listening to the faint sounds of her greedy gulps as she nursed, the swaying of the yacht helping to rock her in your arms. 

Then, from across the table, your son called you with a determined, “Mama.”

You tore your eyes away from the baby in your arms to look over at him, “Yes, sweet boy?”

He pointed an angry finger across the table at his father with a tattling, “Daddy’s mean.”

With a side-eyed glance to amused George beside you, you answered your son as seriously as you could muster, “How is Daddy mean?”

“He plays wrong.” 

George laughed, “Hey, I’m playing correctly. You’re just throwing a fit because I’m not letting you cheat.”

That got him a big pout directed back at him. 

You looked over at George, suggesting softly, “Maybe he’s too young to learn this game.”

George sighed with a fond smile at his pouting son, “Maybe so.”

The little boy stuck out his tongue at him. 

George stuck out his tongue back. 

“Okay, okay, you two,” you chuckled softly, resting a calm hand on George’s bare shoulder before sliding your fingers up into the back of his hair, “let’s pick a different thing to do before bed. Something less emotionally taxing on the both of you.”

Torn away from the game with his son, George’s attention was pulled to you and the baby in your arms. He broke into a grin and leaned in a little closer, reaching a hand out to gently caress her little cheek with the back of his finger as her jaw flexed as she fed. As he doted on your newborn daughter, you turned to your son. 

“What do you want to do now then, my love? Just a storybook and then bed?”

“No bed.” he whined, his pout deepening as he glanced at the baby in your arms, perhaps sensing the shift in attention.

Although George’s attention was on the baby with his finger gently tickling over her tiny knuckles, he spoke to you in a soft singsong voice, “Someone’s overtired I think.”

You continued to compromise with your son, “Bed soon, yes, but not right now.”

George chimed in, glancing towards him even as the baby wrapped her tiny fingers around his one, his eyes twinkling with affection, “We want to get lots of sleep tonight so we can go on more adventures tomorrow, don’t we?”

Your son seemed to ponder that statement for a moment before nodding reluctantly. 

“Okay,” George tenderly pulled his finger from the baby’s grasp and sat back, leaving you with a kiss to your temple before turning his attention back to your son, “come help Daddy pick out a storybook and you can help me read it to baby sister, sound good?”

The little boy broke into a bashful smile over the idea of being helpful with his new baby sibling while he struggled to familiarize himself with sharing his parents and his life with someone else. He held his hands up to George who scooped him up into his arms with a dramatic groan. From his higher vantage point, in the comfort of his father’s embrace, your toddler wrapped his little arms around George’s broad shoulders, hands clutched against his bare skin with a proud smile in your direction.

As they disappeared below deck to pick a storybook from the plethora that had been brought on vacation with you, you took that moment of quiet as the sunset to appreciate your growing family and the love that filled your heart.

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[lonelymoonbeams]

Sophia lore (because no one talks about her enough)

Sophia is actually canonically Turkish! The grandma in Vertin's head spent a whole trace comparing her to a rug, specifically a kilim, which is a Turkish rug that's known for being very fine, lightweight, and having unique patterns due to being handmade. She's probably from Anatolia, aka Asia Minor.

Her mom was in the hospital for a long time when she was little, and Sophia and Hugh (her dad) would go visit her.

Whenever Sophia finished her studies as a kid, Hugh would give her a candy. She saved them in a jar in order to buy flowers for her mom, although I'm not exactly sure how candies pay for flowers. A trade, maybe?

Also as a kid, Sophia had a habit of calling people's names twice. No relevance. I just thought it was cute.

Sophia used to get up early in order to collect sand from the beach. She used it to polish glass since she wanted to make her dad glasses. Oddly specific skill for a child to know, but hey.

Sophia was the one who introduced 37 to fruits in yoghurt. She learned it elsewhere before coming to Apeiron. She was also the one who gave 6 his metal crown- it was originally going to be a fabric hat until 37 got involved and they made it a metal triangle. Fortunately, 210 intervened and made it wearable.

Sophia worked with 37 on calculating for the return of their ship, likely in the position of Corrector. Both of them were on the shore waiting for it, and both saw their parents get reversed, only to wash up as geometric shapes.

Sophia's nervous habit has always been pulling her hair.

She can get very emotional when answering questions. However, she's always quick to backtrack as soon as she realizes.

Sophia is actually described as very smart. Despite being an outsider, she was faster than many of the others on Apeiron. However, it was never noticed because 37 would always be the one on top.

Girl has such self-esteem issues. Stop. Please. Why are you like this *head in hands*

Sonetto is someone she can relate to. They both are exceptional students and arcanists who will never be better than their childhood friend. They'd probably be friends, in another time.

The reason why she's the Corrector is because no one else wants to do it, since they see it as having to do with the world of matters.

Possibly the funniest- Hofmann has seen Sophia's baby/childhood picture, but they've never met each other.

[sleevesareforlosers]

[ID. Three pictures of a square Fall Out Boy-themed quilt hung on a fence. The front is the smiley/frowny face logo from So Much (For) Stardust, with a black half that is frowning and the white half smiling. The background is also a black/white split, inverted from the logo. It is quilted with a black and white variegated thread in a spiral around the logo, and hand quilting within the logo reads "What would you trade the pain for?" in black or white thread to blend in. The back of the quilt is made up of different shades and prints of purple fabric in a gemlike quarter square triangle pattern. The quilt is bound in alternating black and white. In order, the photos show the quilt's front, back, and a close up of the front with a corner folded up to show the back. End ID.]

[sturnboos]

CHAPTER 3 - you’re welcome sweetheart

The four of them had been working on furnishing your cabin for hours. While Chris focused on the furniture and Nick debated wallpaper choices with you, Matt took a moment to explore your inventory just out of curiosity.

And what he found... bothered him. Wait he thought opening her digital closet she only has starter outfits?

He glanced across the room. you were laughing with Nick, your avatar wearing the basic Realm VR hoodie and jeans one of only three default options. you didn’t seem to mind. But Matt did.

He felt a spark of something a mix of protective instinct and something else he wasn’t ready to name. So later that evening when the rest of the group logged off for the night, Matt stayed behind. He had a plan. He wasn’t doing this for credits. Not even for bragging rights. He was doing this because you had made their virtual world feel real and you deserved to feel real in it, too.

he stepped into a challenge the door sealed shut behind him, and instantly, beams of red light shot across the room. hundreds of laser threads weaving the room like a deadly spiderweb an shifting ever so slightly "Welcome to the Lazer Maze… make it to the other platform within 5 minutes to win 6,000 credits"

Matt takes a deep breath studying the lasers, but he knew he had to move quickly. He rolled forward, barely missing a beam that would have triggered a trap. A countdown blinked in the corner of his vision This wasn’t just any trial. This was a stealth and agility challenge “Easy. Just don’t die.” He muttered to himself.

The floor beneath him shifted tiles turning, rotating. The maze was alive. He dodged left, slid under a horizontal beam, then jumped over a zigzagged pattern of vertical lasers. Touching one meant failing the challenge instantly and possibly losing all credits.

He felt sweat dripped down his temple in real reality. but he ignored it for now as his virtual fingers moved with muscle memory, his body ducking, flipping, side stepping like it was parkour. A laser singed the edge of his jacket, leaving a pixel-burned line across his arm. His health bar dipped dangerously but he didn’t fail as it didn’t touch his avatars skin.

60 seconds left.

Then he reached it. A glowing, suspended platform shimmered at the maze’s center. Matt lunged. One final dive through a moving triangle of beams and he hit the pad hard. Then a soft chime ding!

“CONGRATULATIONS 6,000 CREDITS HAS BEEN AWARDED TO YOUR ACCOUNT”

Matt collapsed, his breath ragged, arm glitching slightly from where the beam hit his hoodie. He smiled anyway. "Totally worth it."

The next morning, when Pixel logged in expecting another cozy decorating session, only Nick and Chris were there but before she could question it the door burst open. Matt stumbled in, battered but grinning like a fool. “Pixel... Hey.”

She turned around, startled. “Matt! What happened to- why is your arm glitchy?!” Chris and Nick stood behind her, smirking.

Matt opened a trade window. “I noticed you only had starter outfits. Figured we could fix that.”

The screen populated with outfit after outfit so many you basically had one suitable for every occasion. even pyjamas?!

your jaw dropped. “You... you did this for me? but their your credits to spend not mine??”

He shrugged, trying to play it cool despite the visible limping. “Figured you deserved to look as badass as you actually are.” She stared at the items, then at him. Then she hugged him. Hard.

“You’re insane” she whispered. “But thank you.”

Matt laughed, red-faced. “You’re welcome sweetheart”

tags: @blushsturns @riasturns @iloveduckssm @chrissbxby @sturnobessed @kayskreativeideas @tits4matt @mattsfavho @sturniolobananas1 @courta13 @alexisa78 @chrisissos3xy @sturnobessed @mattschelseaa @norahsturns @dolliraez @jibitzlesscrocs @oopsiedaisydeer @gemzyy @sturniolofruitloop @mattschelseaa @hesvoid34 @phone4pills @spaghettislut1 @sturnslux3 @phone4pills @owenstar @luvsturns @nickssidewitch @ariieeesworld @sugarraez

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

For your Relativity Falls AU, written in the span on one afternoon:

"So, IQ!" That boy, Bill, crossed his arms, singular visible eye twinking. "Now that you're interested, I think it's time to introduce you to the family!"

"Huh? Family?" Ford frowned.

"Yeah, Family! That's what we call each other! We're all for the wily, the wise, and most importantly the weird, and with those hands of yours," Bill pointed to the fingers what Ford quickly tried to hide. "Aw, don't be like that Sixer, I've seen weirder. Anyways, with those hands of yours, you'll fit right in!”

“Oooookay…?” Bill talked a lot, even to the point of interrupting Ford. But it would all be worth it, right? He seemed so nice, and his offer seemed enticing. Anythign for a family, right? Other than Stanley, who was doubtful to the point of trusting a weird scrapbook that described “shape people.”

“Haha, we’re here!” They had come to a square-shaped building. It looked a bit dilapidated, made of red brick and, oddly enough, without windows. It looked out of place for the woods, but Ford swallowed his doubts. Anything for a family, I guess. 

Bill led him through long hallways, multiple twists and turns, and eventually came to the door. 

“Well, here we are! Everyone’s exicted to meet you, so prepere for a warm welcome!”

Before Ford could respond, Bill opened the door and pushed him inside. "Welcome to...Euclydia!" 

Ford looked around, confused. It was a room. A big, white room. Nothing was in it not even a whiteboard or desks, or even people. 

"Uh...Bill? You said that there were people waiting for me. Where are they?"

"Right here, son!"

He whirled around in shock. On the wall behind him, there was...a triangle? A big red triangle, with one eye and a top hat.

He turned back around to ask Bill what was going on, but Bill had changed too. What was once a teenager with a yellow button-down shirt, an eyepatch, and a newsboy cap was a floating yellow triangle. With one eye. Unlike the shapes on the wall, he had black arms and legs, a cane, and a brick pattern down his front. Only the newsboy cap stayed the same, floating above his head.

"Well, well, well, well, well! I knew that people were excited, pops, but you're a sight for sore eye!" Bill's one eye crinkled into what could have been a smile.

“WOAH WOah woah. Pops? He’s your dad?” Both triangles laughed. 

“Why, its like looking in a tinted mirror! Now, to introduce you to the shapes I call my family and friends! There’s my dad, my mom, Quadrilatiriley, Estella, Paralilygram, Hectorgon..." as Bill talked, he pointed to multiple shapes that had appeared on the walls, all in bright colors and differing in the number of eyes. 

"...Rhombulus, Octor and Steve. Everyone, say hello to the new recruit, Ford! He's quite the shapely person himself, just look at those fingers!" 

“Can you please stop grabbing me?”

All the shapes oohed and ahhed at Ford’s hand, which Bill tightly grasped so that he couldn’t escape. 

“Okay, what is going on? Why am I here? I thought this was going to be a program to expand my intelligence!”

“It is!" An octogon chimed in. "With us, you'll know lots of things!"

"L O T S O F T H I N G S," the shapes echoed.

"And don't forget!" A blue triangle moved (slid?) closer to Ford. "We're all family here. Just shake his hand and then we'll be oh so close! We just need you to agree to help us."

Ford took a step back. "Help you how? By...being smart?"

"You're getting it!" The blue triangle "All you have to do is solve some equations, help with a few things, trade in your soul so that we become 3D like my little Billy-"

"I think he gets it, mom pleasedon'tcallmeBillyyou'reembarassing me-."

“WHAT?!” Ford jumped backwards. Trade my soul? You become 3D? WHAT IS HAPPENING?!?!"

I hope you enjoyed this! I think it could use some refining but it's what came to mind when I found your Relativity Falls AU

Oh this is so fun! And horrifying! And so like Ford to go with a weird kid in the woods to 'get smarter' and then almost get scammed out of his soul. Good thing Bill's family are not as good at lying as he is, and Ford is better at picking up 'danger' signals. sorta. Love the idea of the shape dimension trying to become 3d by stealing souls like shay door to door salesmen but they keep giving themselves away.

This is fantastic! Thank you so much for sharing this!

[crevicedwelling]

are there any land gastropods with bright colors like nudibranchs?

plenty, although for shelled examples many are only colorful on the shell and not the flesh.

note that many of these are tree snails, and also many are in peril due to overharvesting for the shell trade

here’s a post with slugs:

[the-fallen-blue]

Leane's Tattoos

In the novels, Leane is from a country called Arad Doman, which is a coastal trade nation on the far west of the continent. You can see it in the middle-left of the map (lots of pics under the cut).

Domani are known for being absurdly good merchants and bargainers, for producing fine craftwork, and for all their women being diaphanously-clothed cocktease femmes fatale. I do not remember them having any notable tattoo culture, and I can find no reference to one in the companion book or wiki. Notably, they're also very far from Tear, which you can see at the south-eastern edge there.

The show wiki says that show Leane is Domani as well, though that may just be book knowledge inference; I don't know if we've actually seen that confirmed on screen? However, we do see that she has some very distinctive tattoos.

Obviously, the other big tattoo culture we've seen on the show is Tear; Siuan's tattoos are of great significance to her, and in the One Happy Future, one of the indications of Moiraine's having settled down is getting Tairen tattoos of her own. My screenshots of those aren't as high-res but I tried to sharpen them up a bit.

Now clearly Moiraine's resemble Siuan's much more closely than Leane's do. We see the same fine lines, alternating triangles, and crossed hockey stick shapes on Mo and Siuan, whereas Leane's have mostly thick lines, many fewer complex shapes, and diamonds instead of triangles.

However, there's definitely a very similar sensibility of repeating angled lines and geometric patterns - they could very easily be a representation of different ideas from the same culture, or, if not, from two closely related cultures.

So what's going on here? Did they give the Domani a different, totally unrelated tattoo culture, and they just had the same makeup artist design both tats and they ended up pretty similar by accident? Are we meant to understand that Arad Doman and Tear have a mutual history or close relationship of some kind, despite being on opposite sides of the map? Is this version of Leane just Tairen? Do Tairen Aes Sedai get to put Tairen tattoos on their Warders?

[queenofcandynsoda]

Triplets

NSL Sign:

Collectively: A tapping motion made in a triangle pattern on the palm or surface

Kadaj: A zigzagging motion on the palm, symbolizing his chaotic and playful nature

Loz: A slow, circular motion on the temple, symbolizing his surgical scar

Yazoo: A quick upward flick on the wrist, symbolizing his sleeplessness

Affiliation: Nibelheim, The Nibelheim Orphanage

Occupation: None

Age: 5

Residence: The Nibelheim Orphanage, Strife Household

Family: Claudia Strife (adoptive mother), Cloud Strife (adoptive brother), Vincent Valentine (adoptive father), Sephiroth (genetic father), Hojo (genetic grandfather), Lucrecia Crescent (genetic grandmother), Elfe/Mother #14 (biological mother), Verdot (biological grandfather), Melody (younger genetic sister), Bow (youngest genetic sister), Chuck (younger genetic brother), Nibelheim Orphans (adoptive siblings)

Relationships: Tifa Lockhart (friend), Vincent Valentine (friend), Dr. John Lenox (neighbor, doctor, somewhat friend), Mrs. Esme Shaw (neighbor, eventual friend), Mitchel Hall (friend, older brother figure), Hamish Hall (neighbor, Kadaj’s farming mentor), Erwin Dahl (neighbor, Loz’s blacksmith mentor), Gisli Olson (neighbor, Yazoo’s hunting mentor), Brian Lockhart (neighbor, initially disliked, eventually somewhat friend), Reeve Tuesti (sponsor, protector), President Shinra (enemy), Junio Shinra (enemy, prank victim), Rochelle Shinra (enemy, prank victim), The Turks (prank victims), Palmer & His Wife (prank victims), SOLDIER (Idols)

Abilities: Supernatural Stamina, Enhanced Bodies (Accelerated Metabolism, Cuteness, Endurance, Durability, Precision, Reflexes, Resistance), Game Mastery (Hockey, Guessing, Rock Paper Scissors, Hide & Seek, Tag), Prank Mastery, Bobsledding Training

Kadaj: Supernatural Swordsmanship (Toy/Wooden Swords, Parrying Mastery, Precise Strike, Defense Bypassing, Counter, Deflection), Agriculture Training (Harvesting, Botany), Game Mastery (Card Game, Trading Cards, Pool, Kickball)

Loz: Supernatural Strength, Craftsmanship Training (Metallurgy, Gunsmithing, Bladesmithing), Boxing Proficiency, Game Mastery (Dice, Bowling, Football, Baseball)

Yazoo: Supernatural Accuracy (Time Synchronicity, Targeting, Ricochet), Supernatural Wits, Hunting Training (Trap Creation, Ambush, Tactical Analysis, Stealth), Slingshot Proficiency, Game Mastery (Puzzle, Riddle, Memory Game, Darts), Sleeplessness

Likes: The Orphanage, Pranks, Playing with their siblings, Sweets, Bobsledding, Outdoors, Fort Building, Claudia’s Loaves, SOLDIER (especially Sephiroth), Messing with the Turks, Hanging out in Tifa’s Bar (later, Seventh Heaven)

Kadaj: Adventuring, Storytelling, Swordplay, Causing Mischief

Loz: Play Fighting, Construction Toys, Drawing, Tinkering

Yazoo: Books, Puzzles, Using his Slingshot, Quiet Observation

Dislikes: STRANGE DREAMS, Junio’s Rudeness, Rochelle’s Ableism, Hojo’s Creepiness, Getting separated for too long, Getting scolded, Unfair treatment, Being Scolded

Kadaj: Strict Rules, His Schemes Failing, Being Doubted

Loz: His Clumsiness, Quietness, Being Left Out

Yazoo: Unnecessary Chaos, Attention on His Struggles, Interruptions

Origins: Kadaj, Loz, and Yazoo are triplets that live under Claudia’s care in the Nibelheim Orphanage. They are also the genetic children of Sephiroth and Elfe. The latter was forced to be an experiment for Project C as the former was completely unaware of it due to Hojo just needing sperm from him. Despite being more able-bodied than most of the orphans, Hojo deemed them as failures as they are not perfect clones of Sephiroth and have “faulty” traits, such as Kadaj having early signs of learning disabilities, Loz having neurological disorders and absence seizures, and Yazoo having motor skill issues. Hojo decided to experiment on them to “improve” their bodies. Because of the experiments in infancy, the triplets got abilities, but they came with their drawbacks. It got worse when Hojo caused Kadaj to be shaken out of frustration at him for being a “failure” as he was the prime replacement for Sephiroth. Soon after, Hojo put them into mako tanks in Nibelheim while thinking of how to deal with them and the rest of the children when the time comes. 

Fortunately, the Triplets and the other orphans were discovered by three guys from Nibelheim by accident. After the village discussion, Claudia decided to take in all forty of them. The Triplets were the first to recover from the mako tanks within two days, and the first to adapt to Nibelheim, making their debut by playing hide & seek around the Lockhart household. 

The Triplets are a whirlwind of creativity, chaos, and energy, amplifying one another’s mischief and daring. Fiercely loyal and inseparable, their dynamic thrives on Kadaj’s bold and daring leadership, Loz’s strength and enthusiasm, and Yazoo’s calm precision. While their antics exasperate others, their charm, humor, and love make them endearing.

Each faces unique struggles shaped by their disabilities. Kadaj, despite his cleverness and leadership, struggles with dyslexia, dysgraphia, and apraxia, often masking his frustrations with mischief. Loz, physically strong and emotionally open, deals with absence seizures, ADHD, and self-consciousness from a surgical scar. Yazoo, composed and observant, navigates developmental coordination disorder and sleepwalking, which can lead to isolation. Together, their differences sometimes clash, but their bond remains their greatest strength, allowing them to support one another through challenges and navigate the world as a united team.

The Triplets adore Claudia, seeing her as a warm and patient mother who provides them with stability and unconditional care. Kadaj respects her but hides his need for affection, Loz is deeply attached, and Yazoo appreciates her quiet understanding. They have a playful yet sometimes exasperating bond with Tifa, treating her like a strong big sister who keeps them in check. Vincent is their "cool but scary" adoptive father—Kadaj tries to impress him, Loz admires but fears his intensity, and Yazoo connects with his reserved nature. Dr. Lenox is their favorite prank victim; they love annoying him, though they secretly appreciate his care. Despite his complaints, he ensures their well-being, making him an unwilling but reliable guardian figure.

Kadaj, Loz, and Yazoo see the other orphans as family, balancing mischief with fierce protectiveness. At first, the boys view Ms. Shaw as a challenge, daring each other to test her patience with harmless pranks. However, over time, they grow fond of her gruff yet secretly caring nature. She begrudgingly tolerates their antics and quietly looks out for them.

They naturally take charge in group activities, leading wild adventures and encouraging pranks, but Yazoo keeps things from getting out of hand. Despite their troublemaking, they bring laughter and energy to the orphanage. They are protective older brothers, standing up for younger or vulnerable orphans—Kadaj is quick to defend, Loz uses his strength, and Yazoo watches over them in a quiet but effective way. While their strong personalities sometimes lead to small rivalries, conflicts never last long. No matter how much they tease or compete, the Triplets love their adoptive siblings and will always stand together to protect their home.

The three boys view the Turks as serious but entertaining, frequently pranking Reno and Elena, while Rude’s quiet tolerance earns their respect. They remain cautious around Tseng, sensing his authority. Among the Shinra Directors, they dislike Heidegger’s loud arrogance, find Scarlet’s vanity amusing but exhausting, and mock Palmer’s clumsiness. Reeve is the only executive they genuinely like, appreciating his sincerity. Hojo, however, unsettles them deeply, triggering an instinctive aversion. They openly dislike Junio Shinra, finding her condescending, and Rochelle’s spoiled attitude makes her an easy target for their antics. While they tolerate Vermilion, they deliberately ruin PR events involving her mother and other executives.

[guardevoir]

Fiber arts update, non-spinning edition: I figured out how to crochet more than fucking sc/blo-sc rectangles!

Working on a star-shaped granny-stitch cape/wrap-around shawl:

I randomly stumbled across this colorway of yarn and knew I needed to make this happen.

(It's quite a bit further along now, but taking photos of this thing is a bit of a pain)

Also made myself a crochet halter top:

I'm normally a "high collar, long sleeves" kinda guy but A) I knew this would make my partner make funny noises, B) the flower element means I can look down without getting an eyeful of tit, which is nice because that's the part that usually bothers me for Gender and Aesthetic Reasons (plus, I tend to pick at exposed skin :<) and C) It's actually super comfortable and fun to wear. So, personal growth through skimpy crocheting projects I guess?

Then, on-the-go crochet project bag:

The colors are actually nice - beige and sage green - but my camera said nope. Also accidentally made this thing a few rows too long because I Cannot Fucking Read, but I elected to ignore that because I started a new yarn ball in there somewhere and already wove in the ends. Didn't want to frog that.

I also started a wrap-around virus shawl yesterday:

So soft and fluffy! I also have this yarn in a second, blue-gray/yellow/pink colorway that I'll transition to towards the bottom, for those sweet sweet sunset vibes.

(Also, since the Crocheting Friend(tm) is my friendly neighborhood triangle shawl expert, I'm kind of focusing on patterns that are Not Triangles (and Not Her Specific Brand Of Cardigan/Sweater) so we have some variety in specialties. Makes collaboration and trading easier.)

And, last but not least, Mistakes(tm)

Mercerized cotton thread and a 1.5mm hook, because a friend of mine collects BJDs, most of them 1/4 scale and vampire/victorian gothic themed, so I decided to answer the question of "can I make a virus shawl in 1/4 scale". The answer appears to be yes, dubiously.

And here I was, thinking I was immune to lace rot because I have the hand-eye-coordination of a drunk toddler and no patience. Lol. Lmao, even.

(Gonna go for a 30 to 40cm (about a foot and a bit) span, or 8 full pattern repetitions, or my thread running out and being unable to find more, whatever comes first)

(Pattern/tutorial links: wrap-around ripple granny shawl | kismet halter top | project bag | wrap-around virus shawl | virus shawl)

[muerteria13]

The Living Altar Intensive

The altar in Muerteria is known as the "living altar." Yes, it is honoring the muertos, but it is very much alive. How? The energy of the candle flames and the water which sits upon it. This altar is similar to the boveda of La Regla Ocha, but it is very different. We do not honor our ancestors at this altar. If we choose to honor our ancestors, it is at a separate altar. No, Muerteria does not place a heavy emphasis on ancestor worship. It is up to the individual to do so. Some ancestors want to be left alone and this is also honorable.

Setting up the living altar is not terribly difficult, but you need certain items. Starting out with a set of nine glasses, whether you use all of them or not is a good idea. Nine is the sacred number of the muertos. There are setups for all kinds of purposes that utilize different numbers of glasses. Candles are the other important aspect of the living altar. Why water and flames?

The water and flames feed the muertos. They give them energy to sustain themselves for the process of elevation - which is one of the most important aspects of Muerteria. We pray for our muertos elevation to Freedom (Heaven).

The way that the candles and water glasses are set up is very important because it is significant. Putting the glasses and candles in a circular formation is the most powerful. It flows the best. It is best if the candles and water glasses are set in an alternating fashion. Setting up the lights and glasses in an upward facing triangular pattern says that you have put your muertos to work (typically for clients). If the triangle is pointed downwards, it means that the muertos are staying with you. Never put the glasses and flames in a square pattern because the energy becomes blocked, and it does not flow.

One key thing is to never have more than 11 glasses and flames on the living altar. It is bulky for one. Also, it tends to jam up the energy and it just doesn't seem to want to flow correctly. I've used up to 10 and even that was a bit much. My ideal number is 8. I find that even numbers work well. For some reason, even numbers seem to have the most powerful current. But it is your choice. Just think about magnets having a north pole and a south pole. Hold them one way and they pull apart. Hold them the other way and they stick together. It is the same way with the energy of the living altar. You have to bring in the objects that pull in the muertos, not ones that push them away.

Example of a flame and water glass filled altar for magic. Just look carefully, there's a lot going on here. The glasses and flames are not in any pattern because the altar needs too many other tools. This does not affect your muerto(s).

The care of this altar can be daunting, unless you decide to keep the number of glasses and flames down and only plan for a once-a-week cleaning like typical bovedas. I do my glasses every 3-4 days. Washing glasses by hand is preferred but the dishwasher is acceptable. And tap water is okay to fill glasses with. Sometimes I use spring water.

Sealing the living altar is also important. There is a Muerteria ritual just for this. The one I use is adapted from the Yoruba people and it works excellent.

If you are just beginning, I suggest that you use two glasses of water and two candles. Use the inverted triangle. That way, muertos will stay with you.

Other tips of the trade:

Incense: Muertos tend to enjoy incense (unless they are like my parents!). I suggest pure Copal Oro, Aloeswood, or Sandalwood to begin. Japanese incense in general, especially low smoke varieties are great for muertos because they are gentle and do not offend them.

Decor: Place what you wish on the living altar but be careful of the glasses and flames. Important items like vessels should be the most imperative items on the altar. Coffee cups, alcohol glasses, oil bottles, an ashtray, and totems of your muerto come first - then a skull of any type is a good addition. Crystals, symbols, rosaries, crosses, and bibles are other common items.

Be aware of where you place your living altar. If there is too much human traffic, your muertos may not appreciate it.

If you want to see your muertos, place a regular mirror that you can stand up on the altar. You may just see them.

Get used to activity. This altar will bring muertos around.

Do NOT use salt or keep it anywhere near your living altar. It is inimical to muertos. Same for Sage of any kind.

I may add more later as I think of things. Any questions, feel free to ask!

M.M. 💖💀💖

[allbeendonebefore]

Casual Cruelty

Happy Monmonton Day gang.

So, I don't write anything other than comics like, ever, let alone writing for a dedicated ship event because what even is that. I may chicken out and expunge this from the earth because it's cringe as hell but we'll see. I wrote this literally on my phone any time I was waiting somewhere without wifi or late at night when I couldn't sleep for some reason over the past, like, idk year and a half? I started with the title and went from there.

This is a (canon?*) story featuring Edward and Étienne, friends with benefits, in some indeterminate time period in the late 20th century in Montreal. Ed struggles with a lot of internal strife that almost wanders into the territory of self harm, but not quite. Lots of pining and seemingly unrequited feelings. Some drinking but nothing excessive, and just a tiny bit of bad French. There's nothing particularly unsafe for work although some undressing happens and Ed has very low standards in his fantasies. So, without further ado...

---

There were a lot of things that were likeable about Étienne Maisonneuve. He was attractive, naturally, though it was more how he carried himself, curated himself than anything else. One would look from his dark, carefully coiffed curls to the loud and erratic patterns on his clothes into his bright green eyes, peeking over a sunrise of long lashes and an amused smile, and one would gasp in genuine shock as he nonchalantly revealed how his older, taller, more handsome brothers would comment on his various shapes and sizes with caution or contempt, that he needed to tone his body up or his attitude down. Who would tell Étienne of all people that he wasn't enough? Too much, perhaps.

Edward, naturally, liked the coiffed hair and the loud prints and especially the green eyes. He was (silently) pleased that Étienne was not particularly tall (so they were generally at eye level), and whether Étienne could fit into his jeans one way or the other didn't particularly bother him (as Étienne, whether there were comfortable handles at his sides or whether you could cut your hand open on his hip, always chose jeans that were probably a little too small).

It was Étienne's unconventional physique (and his unconventional physicality) that Edward liked because Étienne was always changing, he could barely be held in his own skin. When Étienne reached out for him, which was often, it was all Edward could do to hang on for the ride. And it made him feel that, even with ten years of medication and self hatred and complete lack of control over his own body, perhaps he could become something desirable too. Even if only for a moment.

But it wasn't Étienne's appearance that was particularly occupying Edward's thoughts, even if it was rather pointedly occupying his lap and flashing a gleeful grin towards the other occupants squished tightly together into the booth. It was what he was saying, and the conjectures of Meaning that Edward's mind was trying to keep up with.

"And so I couldn't pretend like I hadn't seen him, I mean, how fucking cowardly!" (The others tittered encouragingly, not wanting to miss the blow by blow, while Edward busied himself with a cluster of little triangles printed on Étienne's shoulder and tried to pay attention and not think about how he himself was a fucking coward more often than not.)

He missed the details about the confrontation in his concentration.

"But I said to him, maybe if he wasn't a biphobic de crisse de-"

The altercation rapidly being sketched in Edward's head, at least, was full of expression and colour and electricity. Étienne had run into (an acquaintance? An ex? An old flame who had burned him one too many times, who had made him swear off love for good?). One (Étienne?) was on their way in, one heading out of the (cafe? diner? dispensary? trading post? dep?). Words were exchanged, the fur flew, Étienne naturally emerged victorious (pleased? bitter? wounded?). However it had felt in the moment, clearly amongst attentive friends it was a savourable challenge and good humoured.

Edward was convincing himself it was something he had taken that made the details slip through his brain like earthworms through wet mulch. Surely it was down to some substance that made his stomach clench, not the fact that he had heard some version of this story from Étienne enough times to wish he hadn't. Étienne confronts the weak-minded conservative. Étienne dashes any hope of salvaging a relationship against the rocks. Étienne pierces the heart of the next poor sap who dares to remind him he ever had one of his own, just because he can.

This is how Étienne is and has always been, Edward reminds himself as he calmly takes a sip of whatever Étienne has pressed into his hand (he can't taste it). What he thought he read from him over the years was projected onto ink and tears that had long since dried, delusions of childish fantasy. The person in his lap was more real, carried more weight, than whatever scrawling Edward had been trying to interpret since before he was literate.

"Eddy?"

"Mm?"

"What do you think?"

Edward stared at him stupidly. Was he supposed to tell him he'd done the right thing? That his casual cruelty to the poor sap who just wanted to pay his bill and go home was his sexiest quality?

"The drink."

Edward weighed the question.

"It's okay."

Peals of laughter rippled forth and jostled Ed from his position, clearly the wrong answer.

"That's Eddy for you, always a polite word. A true Canadian," Étienne teased as he slung an arm around Edward's neck.

Edward flushed. The only thing more embarrassing than not paying attention was being caught out as undiscerning, uncultured.

Back home, he would have leaned into it, but here... The insult would have to slide off his well-oiled armour. He managed a grin, almost as if he meant it, and took another sip.

---

His guard was still up even after they stumbled up the metro steps, and as he leaned his head against the bus window away from Étienne's shoulder. It remained so even after the front door closed behind them and Étienne had pirouetted away with their coats and boots.

He excused himself to try to settle the emotional soup in his stomach in front of the bathroom sink before Étienne had a chance to pin him in place. For someone who was so easy to be around, Étienne had a way of making him feel uneasy.

Ed's malaise was chronic and ebbed in like a tide; Étienne was mercurial and his mood shifted sharply and unexpectedly. It was in Edward's interest to deal with himself first rather than risk Étienne misinterpreting him, or worse: feeling responsible for him.

Maybe he'll ask if I'm alright, he thought as he completed his routines. Maybe he'll ask what took so long, or make some joke about getting lost that will lighten the mood enough for me to tell him.

Tell him?

Edward caught his own inquiring eye in the mirror as he dried his hands and swept away the ring of droplets around the rim of the sink. Tell him he didn't perform these little gestures out of the traditional guest-host relationship? That he wanted something impossible?

He leaned on the counter unsteadily, somewhere between faking being sick and being sick.

Here came the tears. What the fuck did he want? For Étienne to knock the door off its hinges and rescue him? To wipe the sick off his face and tuck him in? Or would he rather be back home, imagining becoming the latest villain who dared to try to make E. M. fucking Maisonneuve commit?

This, he reasoned, was the alcohol. Clearly he was simply a sad drunk and the only thing for it was to brush his teeth, splash his face enough to hide any tear tracks, and sleep it off.

He caught himself eyeing the tub in the mirror. It wouldn't do any good, acting on that impulse. Imagining the slip, the fall, the impact and the shout was already giving him a headache. Even if the idea of being exposed, broken, and cradled was appealing. Christ-like, even... he managed a smile. He would find that funny.

Where might his host have got to? Ed doubted he was awaiting him with bated breath. He would surely find him bored, asleep waiting for him on the couch. Or perhaps he had already moved on to amuse himself elsewhere. He dried his hands, flicked off the light and peered down the hall.

There was no sign of life from the living room, but he heard running water. Étienne trying to wash the taste of the evening out, no doubt.

Edward cautiously hovered at the edge of the kitchen, a dimple curving despite himself. Étienne, of all possible things, was furiously washing the last of a generous array of dishes.

"You clean up well, Maisonneuve," Edward gave him an exaggerated once over, smiling at the large amount of water Étienne had somehow spilled down his front in his haste, revealed as he twisted around to acknowledge Edward's presence.

"I was hoping you'd take a little longer, you aren't supposed to know how much I had left to prepare for you and how little I'd done," Étienne smiled and turned back to rinsing the last few stragglers hiding beneath the suds.

"The illusion of your carefree bachelor life is shattered," Edward mock sighed. He leaned against the wall, unable to answer the impulse to help. Somehow, finding Étienne this concerned over it was so...

It was like a dream, watching this private moment. Étienne fiddling with the cap on the dish soap, scrubbing a particularly displeasing spot, nails scratching over the towel. One might even mistake him for mortal, wiping his hands on the sides of his jeans after fumbling around in the dishwater for the plug.

Edward's heart ached sweetly. He couldn't have everything he wanted, but he could continue to savour this tart hurt for a hundred years more. Whatshisname de Biphobe was missing out.

"Effortless." Étienne grinned, scrunching his face in mock satisfaction that blossomed into nothing short of a genuine smile as Edward met his eyes.

"Your secret is safe, I'm nowhere near sober enough to remember your kitchen as anything but spotless," Edward twirled unsteadily out of the doorway to prove his point.

"I'm sorry for that, Eddy," Étienne laughed and reached out to catch Edward's fingers and complete the clumsy flourish. "You flew five hours only for me to find you the worst drink in town."

"I thought you knew this city," Edward's eyes and his resolve crinkled up like tin foil, he couldn't help but interlock their fingers.

"I'll make it up to you," Étienne's gaze sunk briefly, his smile rose.

"Mm? I dunno, I may be ruined for trying new things forever."

"Perhaps I find bad things on purpose," Étienne grinned maliciously. "Get the worst out of the way so that you tolerate the rest. Or that you appreciate my favourites."

"I fly out five hours to "tolerate" the farce of national unity at work, I don't "tolerate" you," Edward looked away from Étienne's face and back down to studying his shirt pattern, dabbing at the damp spots uselessly with his hands and causing Étienne to try to wriggle away.

"What are you doing?" Étienne whined, "It's cold!"

Edward dropped his hands abruptly as Étienne took the opportunity to return the favour, poking and prodding Edward against the wall.

"You're doing, it wrong," Étienne paused, laughing briefly between words, angling for his next attack. He looked up to see Edward's worried expression, which was disturbing enough for Étienne to straighten up and meet his gaze.

"Oh, come on Eddy," he stepped in closer and started playing with the collar of Edward's shirt, "You've barely smiled since you got here. Are you not having fun?"

Edward gulped. He hadn't been, but Étienne knowing this was exactly the opposite of what he wanted.

Then again, what other reason did he have to come out here? Their entire relationship for around two decades seemed to balance on Étienne as his personal concierge of fun, legitimate or otherwise.

"Has something happened?" Étienne's brows knit, eyes searching.

"No," Edward recovered. "No more than the usual bullshit."

Étienne looked unconvinced for a moment, but he expertly shifted the tone.

"I'll help you forget all about it." Étienne, clearly plotting something, grinned wickedly as his arms shot out to pin Edward's to his sides.

"What are you-" Edward flushed as Étienne slowly pivoted him back to the door frame.

To his surprise, Étienne released him as quickly as he had caught him. He grinned over his shoulder at Edward, "You were in front of the fridge."

Reaching in for what he was looking for, he added, "There's a jar in the cupboard on your left, please. And I'll also need a bowl and two mugs."

Edward blinked at him stupidly before retrieving the dishes, opting to use what he could find in the cupboards before turning to the freshly washed items by the sink. By the time he had found the jar, he heard a curious hissing sound and nearly dropped the thing when he figured out where it was coming from.

Étienne's electric kettle was soon whistling merrily, and Edward finally brought himself to comment while Étienne reached for the offered bowl.

"Seems you aren't about to burn the place down," he laughed weakly.

"Ha, no, it took some courage for me to try it out but so far it's worked like a charm and expanded my repertoire significantly. I can make all sorts of things: oatmeal, noodles..."

Edward's heartstrings nearly snapped with the strain. He really needed to heighten his standards. The thought of Étienne preparing cup noodles for the two of them should not be attractive. He had to look away before he started imagining him ruggedly heating water over a campfire.

"And the powder?"

Étienne handed him a spoon from the drawer as he fumbled for whatever he was looking for. "Cocoa. I've been experimenting with my own blend," he replied as he triumphantly pulled a beater out from where it had been wedged in the drawer. Slotting it into place with a satisfying click, Étienne turned up the dial and his hand mixer roared to life.

Edward spied the carton of whipping cream next to the bowl and everything fell into place.

Étienne, catching his eye as the mixer powered down, winked teasingly. "Don't worry, I've made extra for later." He handed Edward one of the beaters and could barely restrain his giggles as he popped off the other and brought it to his mouth.

The cold cream did little to help the first blush creeping up Edward's neck and ears. The sour taste did.

Étienne choked on his beater. "Oh, Eddy, no... I swear this was good yesterday," he frantically tried to grab the other beater from Edward.

"It's not bad," Edward spun away with a smile as he finished licking up the cream. "Better than that first drink you gave me, anyway."

"Eddy, you'll make yourself sick-!"

"It isn't that far gone, honest. If it really bothers you, put some plastic wrap on the bowl and we will cook with it tomorrow. Whipping cream is a decent butter substitute, and it'll taste much better than this heated."

Étienne looked at him with amazement for a moment before he hastily followed Edward's instructions. "Where do you learn this stuff?"

"You've been around three centuries and you don't pick this stuff up?"

"I pick it up," Étienne leaned against the fridge door as he closed it, hands behind his back and a sly grin on his face, "off a plate. With a fork."

"How do you survive?"

"Much better now. You're a life saver, I mean it."

Ed turned his attention to the hot chocolate, saved from spoiling, to distract himself from thinking too much about what exactly he meant. Picking it up, he glanced warily at Étienne who gave him an encouraging nod and smile.

The bitter cocoa, the sweet sugar, the hint of cinnamon... Everything had been smoothly whisked and there was even a kick of chili at the end. Étienne's smile grew as Edward's eyes widened.

"It's good. I like it." Surely he could come up with a better compliment than that.

Étienne didn't seem to mind his awkward bluntness, smiling into his own mug without breaking his gaze. "You see, I may be a fuck-up, but things eventually turn out just as I intended."

Edward said nothing, focusing on the cocoa and not the story of the evening. Of course, Étienne Maisonneuve, conquering hero. Always.

The companionable silence as they drank was unbearable. Edward quickly broke it.

"This might be the first hot meal you've ever made for me." He meant to muster a smile, but must have forgotten.

Étienne blinked in surprise. "Not so," his eyes narrowed in concentration. "You remember I made that... the roux, with the peas and corn?"

"Rubaboo," Edward supplied.

"Rubaboo! Now, I could make that at some point, surely. And far more meal-like than this."

Edward didn't want to think about old times. He didn't want to think about his childish thoughts or his naivety and he didn't want to think about the self satisfied glow in his chest that Whatshisname de Biphobe would never, could never know Étienne as long or as well as Edward did.

He didn't want to think about sacrificing almost two hundred years by ruining their relationship and becoming the next poor sap to be discussed over one of Étienne's outings.

Suddenly, the weight of his escape from home settled between his shoulders. He put down his empty mug unsteadily into the sink.

"I have to pass out." He was too tired to try to be anything but his blunt, boring self.

"Of course," Étienne smiled, setting his own mug down and fluidly steering Edward out of the kitchen.

"I'd just brushed my teeth," Edward moaned pathetically.

"Mhm," Étienne flicked off the light behind him.

"It's like 6:00 AM in my head and I just got here and I'm boring and tired, and-"

"And drunk."

"And drunk. And not fun." Edward hiccupped weakly for emphasis.

"Where to?"

"Yours. I won't be able to sleep with Rocket Richard staring at me."

Étienne caught him by the shirt before he could collapse on the bed. He quickly unbuttoned it for Edward and held it back, letting gravity do the rest. Edward fell with a soft sigh, eyes closed.

"'Tienne, peux-tu..." For some reason, it was easier to ask for something in French.

"Bien sûr." He didn't see the smile on Étienne's face, but he could hear it. He felt well practiced hands undo the belt and button at his waist; he then half-heartedly tried to wriggle free.

"Et peux-tu me cuisiner," Edward murmured. "Demain."

"Qu'est-ce que tu voudrais, Édouard?" He felt the denim peel off his legs.

Edward was silent for a long time, drifting off, grasping for the right word. "Oatmeal," he said.

He struggled to hang onto consciousness. Though he couldn't keep his eyes open, he heard Étienne laugh. Seconds later, or maybe a few minutes, he heard the clink of a cup set against the nearby night table.

Even nearly asleep, a wave of guilt lapped at him. It wasn't so long ago that he could keep up with Étienne, that he could be fun, almost without pretending. Now Étienne was tucking him in and keeping him hydrated, like a child, or an old man.

"J'm'excuse..." he mumbled.

"Ahh, Eddy. Toujours le 'Canadian'." Étienne teased, a mocking melody on the English. Edward felt the warmth from Étienne’s cupped hand, mussing his hair gently. "Bonne nuit, mon chum."

There were a lot of things he loved about Étienne Maisonneuve. He loved how he never took himself, or anyone else, too seriously. He loved how every time he fucked something up, he would find a way around it or through it. He loved his warm dishpan hands and the solid press of him against his back. He loved the way he was causally cruel, biting and acidic. He loved when his smiles met his eyes and when his eyes met his.

---

END

---

*It's canon in the sense that they are immortal personified cities but it's only "canon" if you accept it as such. I try to position myself somewhere in between @randomoranges' fluffy candy writing and @quatschmachen's angsty torment writing I guess, so today you get a little of both.

[samdrews]

Bitcoin (BTC) gained significant momentum this week, pushing toward a $1 trillion market cap. Trading over $23,000 and approaching $23,500, Bitcoin leads the crypto market surge.

Cryptocurrencies prices heatmap, source: Coin360

Altcoins also saw strong gains despite Bitcoin dominating the spotlight. Ethereum (ETH) remains above $1,500, while Ripple (XRP) is up 1.60% at $0.4165, and Polkadot (DOT) has risen 2.42%.

Altcoin season is evident with Cardano (ADA), Binance Coin (BNB), Litecoin (LTC), Bitcoin Cash (BCH), and Chainlink (LINK) all recording minor gains. The overall crypto market capitalization has surged past $1 trillion, though Bitcoin’s dominance has dropped to 41.17%.

Top gainers include GALA, up over 27%, and other strong performers like Trust Wallet Token, Avalanche, Enjin Coin, Flax Share, and GMX token, each gaining over 10%.

Top gainers and losers of the day: CoinMarketCap

Despite Genesis Capital’s bankruptcy on Jan. 19, the market sentiment remains bullish, with investors continuing to enter the crypto space. Over the week, market capitalization climbed 7%, and 11 of the top 80 coins saw gains of 18% or more.

Bitcoin price analysis

Bitcoin is at $23,003.26, up 0.13% in the last 24 hours, with a market cap of $444.7 billion. Bitcoin has risen 36% over the past 30 days, with support at $22,200 and resistance at $24,000. Trading above the 21-day EMA, Bitcoin shows bullish control, with the RSI above 50 and a positive MACD indicating potential sideways trading before another move.

Ethereum Price Analysis

Ethereum is trading at $1,591.12, consolidating above $1,500 despite a slight dip. Its market cap is $186 billion. Up over 33% in the past 30 days, Ethereum shows bullish sentiment. Support is at $1,540 and resistance at $1,620. A stagnant triangle pattern suggests an imminent directional move, with the RSI neutral and MACD bullish. The Stochastic RSI in the overbought zone indicates a potential pullback before further gains. Overall, the sentiment remains positive for ETH.

In January's final week, the market cap surpassed $1 trillion, while Bitcoin’s dominance rose.

[harinibw]

XRP is drawing significant attention from market experts and investors, with analyses suggesting a potential major rally. Crypto analyst Dark Defender highlighted XRP/BTC's critical juncture, indicating "No Room Left" for further decline without a market reaction, suggesting an imminent upward move. Analyst The Moon is also optimistic, forecasting a rise towards the $0.56 resistance level, supported by a bullish flag formation. XRP is consolidating within a triangle pattern, indicating a possible surge once the upper resistance line is breached.

Analyst JD noted several bullish signals for XRP in 2024. The Stochastic RSI has crossed above 20, indicating bullish momentum, and the RSI has moved above the moving average. Additionally, the MACD turned green for the first time this year, signaling positive momentum. XRP recently dipped into a support area, presenting a good Dollar-Cost Averaging (DCA) opportunity for investors. Trading at $0.5266, XRP shows a minor decline of 0.54% but is poised for significant changes in the coming weeks.

[xtruss]

Symbols of Forever Palestine 🇵🇸!

What the Keffiyeh, the Olive Branch, Handala and the Watermelon Represents in Terms of Palestinian Odentity and Resistance.

— By Mohammed Haddad, Konstantinos Antonopoulos and Marium Ali | Published: 20 November 2023

In hundreds of cities worldwide, demonstrators have rallied in solidarity with Palestinians in Gaza, donning the emblematic black-and-white Palestinian headdress known as the keffiyeh.

Among them, demonstrators carry large keys, a cartoon portraying a child with their back turned, and even an image of a Watermelon 🍉, each representing a different way of supporting the Palestinian cause.

In this infographic series, Al Jazeera showcases eight symbols that represent Palestinian identity and resistance to Israeli occupation.

A keffiyeh, also spelled kuffiya, is a square-shaped cotton headdress with a distinctive chequered pattern worn in many parts of the Arab world.

The black-and-white variant, worn by Palestinian men and women, has come to symbolise the Palestinian struggle for self-determination, justice and freedom.

The Olive-Leaves Pattern represents perseverance, strength and resilience.

The Gishnet Pattern represents Palestinian fishers and the people's connection to the Mediterranean.

The Bold Pattern represents trade routes with neighbouring merchants of Palestine.

The garment, originally used to protect individuals across the Middle East against the sun, gained popularity during the Arab Revolt against British colonial rule in the 1930s.

The keffiyeh was also the personal trademark of Yasser Arafat, the late Palestinian leader. He would wear it folded in a triangle shape and draped over his shoulders, covering his head.

Today, the keffiyeh has been adopted globally by individuals, activists and organisations to support the Palestinian cause.

The olive tree has deep historical and cultural roots in Palestine, and its branches have been associated with peace and prosperity for centuries.

The hardy trees can handle drought, subzero temperatures, frost and even fire. They are symbolic of Palestinian resilience against Israeli occupation and their connection to the land.

Olive cultivation plays a crucial role in the Palestinian economy through olive oil, table olives and soap production.

About 80,000 to 100,000 Palestinian families rely on the olive harvest for their income, which takes place every year between October and November. Traditionally, the harvest season is a time of festivities and joy, but tight Israeli restrictions and settler attacks overshadow it.

According to the UN, more than 5,000 olive trees belonging to Palestinians in the West Bank were damaged in the first five months of 2023.

In 1974, Yasser Arafat, then the leader of the Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO), famously said in a speech addressed to the United Nations General Assembly:

“Today I come bearing an olive branch in one hand and the freedom fighter's gun in the other. Do not let the olive branch fall from my hand. I repeat, do not let the olive branch fall from my hand”.

In 1948, Zionist military forces expelled at least 750,000 Palestinians from their homes and lands in what became known as the Nakba (“catastrophe” in Arabic). Those people took their keys with them, sure they would return.

Many Palestinians still hold onto the keys to their original homes as a symbol of their hope and determination to return one day. These keys have been passed down several generations and are kept as a symbol of Palestinians’ right to return - a principle enshrined in international law that grants individuals the right go back to their homes of origin.

During Israel's latest offensive in Gaza, at least 1.5 million Palestinians have been driven out of their homes, double the number of those displaced during Nakba in 1948. For Palestinians, Nakba is not a discrete historical event. It is an ongoing process of displacement that has never stopped.

The outline map of historic Palestine represents the geographical area associated with the region before the establishment of the state of Israel in 1948. The map serves as a visual representation of Palestinian claims to their land and self-determination.

In 1948, Zionist military forces expelled at least 750,000 Palestinians from their homes and captured 78 percent of historic Palestine. The remaining 22 percent was divided into what are now the occupied West Bank and the besieged Gaza Strip.

There are 7 million registered Palestinian refugees living in camps located throughout Palestine and neighbouring countries. The plight of Palestinian refugees is the longest unresolved refugee problem in the world.

Necklaces shaped like the Palestinian map are crafted and worn, often featuring intricate details of the map's borders and cities. T-shirts and various items featuring the map of historic Palestine are used as expressions of solidarity with Palestine.

The Al-Aqsa Mosque compound is located in Jerusalem, the contested capital at the heart of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.

The 14-hectares (35-acres) compound contains the al-Qibli Mosque (grey dome) and the Dome of the Rock (golden dome) and holds profound religious, cultural and political significance for Palestinians.

Muslims believe that it is from Al-Aqsa where the Prophet Muhammad ascended to heaven during the Night Journey (Isra' and Mi'raj). As such, it's considered one of the holiest sites in Islam after the Kaaba in Mecca and the Prophet's Mosque in Medina.

The compound is known to Muslims as al-Haram ash-Sharif and to Jews as Temple Mount.

The site is a recurrent flashpoint, with Israeli forces repeatedly conducting raids, closures and limitations on Muslim worshippers at the site.

Handala is a cartoon character created by Palestinian cartoonist Naji al-Ali that reflects his own childhood refugee experience and the ongoing plight of Palestinians displaced by the Nakba.

The first version of the cartoon appeared in a Kuwaiti newspaper in 1969 and was drawn facing the viewer. However, in 1973 following the October War, al-Ali started drawing Handala with his back turned to reflect how the world had itself turned its back on the Palestinians.

Handala is barefoot and wears ragged clothes like the refugee camp children al-Ali remembers when he was forced to leave his village as a 10-year-old boy.

Handala is named after the “handhal”, a bitter fruit that grows in the dry areas of Palestine. It grows back when cut and has deep roots.

In 1987, Naji al-Ali was assassinated in London. No one has been charged with his murder.

The watermelon is perhaps the most iconic fruit to represent Palestine. Grown from Jenin to Gaza, the fruit shares the same colours as the Palestinian flag – red, green, white and black – so it is used to protest against Israel’s suppression of Palestinian flags and identity.

Following the 1967 war, when Israel seized control of the West Bank and Gaza Strip and annexed East Jerusalem, the government banned the Palestinian flag in the occupied territory.

Although the flag has not always been banned by law, the watermelon caught on as a symbol of resistance. It appears in art, shirts, graffiti, posters and the ubiquitous watermelon emoji on social media.

In January 2023, the police were instructed to confiscate Palestinian flags from public places. This was followed in June by a bill to ban the flag in state-funded institutions.

In response, Zazim, a grassroots Arab-Israeli peace organisation, placed the Palestinian flag – in watermelon form – on about a dozen Tel Aviv service taxis.

In the current conflict, people have been using the watermelon emoji as a way to avoid getting “shadowbanned” on social media when posting about current events in Gaza.