Hi guys, I've been doing an analysis on the fastest growing digital marketing pages on instagram. And my analysis shows all of them had over 2000 views on their first reel.
They didn't post consistently,
They didn't have content that differed from other creators. (Some were faceless accounts)
There was no correlation to the use of hashtags or the number of hashtags. (Some use over 20 hashtags, others don't use a single hashtag)
There was no correlation to the use of sounds either. Some used old sounds, some used trending sounds Some used original sounds.
Which leads me to my hypothesis that instagrams algo works similar to pinterests, in the sense that IF your content somewhat resembles popular content it will be shown to a larger sample by default.
In addition to that, I also think Instagram has "lucky" accounts, because even if you were to repost a viral post several times on an "unlucky" account you still won't get views.
I've posted 3 times a day consistently now for 23 days and ive tested several different angles, frameworks and styles with some views even getting under 20 views.
My handle is @itsdraychaser for anyone that wants to see. I'm just trying to understand what's really going on with this app.

Sorry if this is in the wrong place to ask... Apparently I have a email registered there but I tried to sign up and don't know why It was banned? I don't ever recall using the site either. Are they pretty strict over there? I wanted to learn how to make custom textures for OoT. Any ideas on how I can get in contact with their administrator so they can give me a reason why I got banned or are they a strict site? I remember them being pretty laid back. And one of my favorite texture pack creators djipi goes there so yea... They banned me with out warning so confused. Anyone else experienced the same problems with these sites? Or can you guys recommend me a place to go that especializes with texture packs? I don't recall doing anything malicious on getting my self banned so idk. Possible they banned me for being inactive? Idk. Sorry guys. lol. Just confused individual here. When I found out my email was perma banned. Im like, wtf did I do to piss these guys off? Or are they strict? lol. Sigh. :/ If they perma ban me, possible my IP got banned? I was able to create a new account. But not gonna risk getting a ip ban.

Okay so I’ve been questioning who I am for 3 years now. Lets start this off with what I felt as a kid. As a kid I literally believed I had to pick out some random goodlooking dude and marry him and have a family (literally thought like that till I was 13). Im a woman and it seemed like thats what every adult woman around me was doing.
In middle school, I saw people get in relationships so I kept picking out random classboys who looked most decent I suppose and had a “crush” on them. By that I mean that I did get somewhat butterflies when they talked to me but only cuz I felt I was closer to “my” future goal (thing I mentioned above of family and blah blah) and never cuz I actually felt sth towards them personally. I was so confused how people were heartbroken when they got broken up with cuz it all seemed like they were dating for dating itself and not cuz they cared for their partner.
In 2020, bored, stuck in quarantine, I found couples vids on TikTok and that was the first time I saw that relationships were meant to be more than just finding someone to have a family with (funnily enough I dont even want kids). And that I want someone like that. On that same year I also got a close online guy bestfriend few months later. Like a really close one. And I think I was somewhat attracted. Only thing is, I think I was more attracted to the attention and again, finding someone to go on cutesy dates with, rather than someone I truly love. Their face reveal didnt make me feel too different, it just made me be like “cool”.
2021 I found out bout lgbtq+ and was wondering that maybe im Pan. My conclusion was that since I felt the same way about everyone, I must not care for gender. Then I realized I was probably aroace. But then again, idk if im delulu or not, but I wanted to believe I was greyaroace or demiaroace. I still want a partner and that friendship in 2020 made me realize if my connection is deep enough, I do actually slowly start wanting for small things like hugs (couldnt give em through screen but point being that as a hug hater, that was odd to happen).
Just to note that I highly doubt I can experience sexual attraction towards people because I dont find ppl hot that way and sometimes seeing someone cool on pinterest gives me butterflies for 5 seconds and its gone (applies for cool ppl ive spotted there of any gender identity). Idk if their beauty is just too aesthetically pleasing or its actual attraction for a moment. And I have never dated, I dont even have crushes so idk how id date.
As of today, Im confused, because I still dont know who I am but what I do know is that regardless if Im attracted to them or not, I would not date a man. To me, emotional bonds are the most important part of finding someone and Ive found that my emotional bonds with men tend to be more toxic and/or unhealthy than those with women/enbies. (I dont hate my guy friends I just have wayyy more awkward moments with them than with non-men.) Especially because I feel like girls understand girls better and idk, enbies r chill. I know I want a relationship but because I have not had any friendships as close as the one in 2020, I truly cant say if I would slowly start romantically adoring another bestfriend who was not a man. So am I just too delusional to accept I may never truly be attracted to someone or does anyone have any other ideas? 😔
Btw I dont fall in love with every bestfriend I have, but cuz im sure IF I do love someone its cuz im demi, that means that bestfriends would most likely fit for that. I name people my bestfriend if theyre my #1 person to go to so thats why its bestfriendS and not singular one, cuz they change overtime.
As of right now I think Im demiaroace sapphic (sapphic being so that technically idk if Im lesbian/bi/pan, I just know if I was to date then Itd probs be a woman). But Im just unsure if im aroace in denial.
Whoever did read this, thanks for reading it through and any suggestions would help.
Before anyone mentions, yes, I dont need to label myself. But I love being open with my identity so knowing whats my identity is important to me. I love wearing lil pins of my interests and myself as a person as a way to slightly display who I am :)

Hello njpw
We're back with another black standing analysis post. This time, it's B Block's turn for a look-see.
There have been quite a few developments over in B Block, both inside and outside the ring. My heartfelt well-wishes go out to Francesco Akira. I hope you recover quickly and completely. However, his exit from the BOSJ has changed the landscape of B Block considerably. It's not quite as flat as A Block is, and we've seen a contention elimination even before this past show, but nonetheless there's still a lot to be said, so I'll say it all.
First, a bit of admin. Usually, I don't start looking at ties until the 2nd last day. However, because of the forfeit results for Akira's remaining matches, my dataset has shrunk just enough to start taking draw results into account for the odds in this post, so do note that those are included. However, I still won't be going into detail on ties until the next post.
Also, I'm making a change to my draw calculations. For this tournament, I'll be giving draw results for each match a half weight in each person's chances of winning, so the more ties a certain outcome will need, the less weight it'll hold in the final number. For those of you who don't care about the math and just care about the number, it means that a person will have a lower number if they rely too much on draws to qualify.
Lastly, as usual, you may also view my BOSJ 31 results summary page here. I'm manually updating it as we go along the tournament. It contains the schedule of the matches, results, and a summary of the top 20 best matches of the tournament (based on CageMatch Ratings).
With all that out of the way, let's have a look at the standings

B Block Standings

Name	Faction	Score	Record	Status
Robbie Eagles	TMDK	10	5-2	In
Taiji Ishimori	BULLET CLUB	8	4-2	In
KUSHIDA	Main Unit	8	4-2	In
Drilla Moloney	BULLET CLUB War Dogs	8	4-2	In
Hiromu Takahashi	Los Ingobernables de Japon	8	4-2	In
DOUKI	Just 5 Guys	8	4-3	In
SHO	HOUSE OF TORTURE	8	4-3	In
Ninja Mack	Pro Wrestling NOAH	4	2-4	Very Slim Odds (<0.1%)
Francesco Akira	UNITED EMPIRE	4	2-7	Out (Forfeit)
Dragon Dia	Dragongate	0	0-6	Out

Like I said, we've already had some contention eliminations in B Block, and the field isn't as flat as A Block's (1 10-point difference between the top and bottom of the block, vs A Block's 4-point difference). However, there are still 7 guys with 8 points and above, but even that isn't as level as it may seem. What do I mean? Well, let's get into it, starting with our sole block leader ...

1) Robbie Eagles

• 10 pts: 5 wins, 2 losses
• 51.8% to go to the playoffs:
  • 31.2% as #1
  • 20.6% as #2
• Best Wins: KUSHIDA [8], Moloney [8], SHO [8]
• Worst Losses: Ishimori [8]

Up first, we have the man who benefited the most from Akira's forfeits. Zooming to the top of B Block is Robbie Eagles, who, thanks to Akira's forfeit and his own win over Dragon Dia on this past show, became the first person in the tournament to hit 10 points and is the reigning block leader of B Block.
Even disregarding the gimme from Akira, Eagles would still be in a strong position. He has a number of strong wins over current top contenders, and only a single loss of consequence, which isn't terrible in a format that takes the top two winners. The forfeit win also means that he has less matches left to worry about, so that's both less physical strain on himself and less variability in his chances. Overall, Akira dropping out was a good thing for Eagles.
All Eagles has to worry about now are his two remaining matches. However, they will not be easy. Up next will be a real test as he takes on Hiromu Takahashi on the next show. After that battle, he'll have a bit of a break before facing Douki on the last day of B Block competition. Can Eagles make his first journey past the block phase of a BOSJ? He'll have to beat some tough opponents in the next week to do it, but he's pretty damn close.

2) Taiji Ishimori

• 8 pts: 4 wins, 2 losses
• 27.5% to go to the playoffs:
  • 15.8% as #1
  • 11.7% as #2
• Best Wins: Eagles [10], DOUKI [8]
• Worst Losses: KUSHIDA [8]

Taiji Ishimori holds on to a solid second place spot in B Block, and that's mainly because he's the only one in B Block with at least 8 points who has beaten block leader Robbie Eagles. That means that if he can close the gap with Eagles, he'll be in prime position to take the #1 spot in the block, and considering he's still got a match to give behind Eagles, it's a solid possibility.
But where will that victory have to come from? Well, his next two opportunities will come from Bullet Club brothers. He takes on the War Dogs' Drilla Moloney on the 26th, and House of Torture's Sho on the 28th. These all-Bullet Club matches don't tend to go too hard, but they are also incredibly unpredictable, so anything goes for Ishimori. Lastly, he'll have to take on his perennial rival here in New Japan for his final match: Hiromu Takahashi. It's a funky final phase for Ishimori, but he certainly has the tools to make it through. It's just a matter of putting it all together, and Ishimori can make it out of the blocks for the first time since 2018.

3) KUSHIDA

• 8 points: 4 wins, 2 losses
• 26.4% to go to the playoffs:
  • 11.3% as #1
  • 15.1% as #2
• Best Wins: Ishimori [8], Hiromu [8], SHO [8]
• Worst Losses: Eagles [10], Moloney [8]

The former BOSJ winner has racked up an impressive record here in this year's tournament, especially considering his performance last year. He went on a hot streak to start this year, acquiring several strong wins. However, he's faltered in the past few shows, and his two losses could prove fatal to him at the close of the block phase. His loss to Eagles means he's much more likely to come in second, but that's alright in this format. Still, he need to keep pace if he wants his shot.
So who does that mean for Kushida? Well, because he's dealt with most of the top of this block, his last few matches will be against relatively low-performing wrestlers. The only 8-pointer he has yet to face is Douki, and that'll happen on the 28th, while his other two matches will be against people at the bottom of the block: Ninja Mack on the 26th and Dragon Dia on the 31st. It seems like an easier road than some of the others, but wild things can happen in the final days of these tournaments. Kushida better be careful, lest he gets spoiled.

4) Drilla Moloney

• 8 points: 4 wins, 2 losses
• 26.4% to go to the playoffs:
  • 13.5% as #1
  • 12.9% as #2
• Best Wins: KUSHIDA [8], DOUKI [8]
• Worst Losses: Eagles [10], SHO [8]

It was a rough start for the Drilla, dropping his first two matches to significant opponents. However, like his nickname, the man has broken through the ranks, winning his last 4 matches, and even taking out Akira from the competition altogether. He now sits within an arms-reach of the playoffs. Still, those losses do haunt him, especially the one to Eagles, and he'll need some extra help to make it out.
If he wants big wins, though, he'll certainly have the opportunity to get them, because his next two matches will be doozies. First up is Hiromu on the 26th, followed by Ishimori on the 28th. If he can win both of those matches, He's pretty much guaranteed to make the playoffs. After that, he'll just have to wrap up his tournament against the crowd favorite Ninja Mack.

5) Hiromu Takahashi

• 8 points: 4 wins, 2 losses
• 25.9% to go to the playoffs:
  • 14.7% as #1
  • 11.2% as #2
• Best Wins: SHO [8]
• Worst Losses: KUSHIDA [8], DOUKI [8]

The last of the guys with 4-2 records in B Block is Hiromu. While his score keeps him in the top half of the block, closer inspection reveals that it's not an incredibly strong position. He has some tough losses, including to Kushida, while all of his wins come from the bottom half of the block. He has yet to acquire any really significant wins to help break potential ties.
So you know what that means? That's right. It means that he'll be having a gauntlet for his final stretch of matches, with all of them being against current contenders. It'll be Robbie Eagles on the 26th, Drilla Moloney on the 28th, and Taiji Ishimori on the 31st. He's had prior history with all of them, and they've all been in top form this tournament, so he's got his work cut out for him in the toughest final matches of the Block. Do you believe in Hiromu?

6) DOUKI

• 8 points: 4 wins, 3 losses
• 11.2% to go to the playoffs:
  • 3.5% as #1
  • 7.7% as #2
• Biggest Wins: Hiromu [8]
• Worst Losses: Ishimori [8], Moloney [8], SHO [8]

Next up is Douki. At 8 points, this is Douki's best ever performance in a BOSJ. However, there's a significant drop-off from Hiromu to him, despite them having the same point total, and that's because of the Akira drop-out. It's given both DOUKI and the #7 guy a win ahead of time. However, while on the surface it seems to have leveled things out, what it hides is the fact that they have less time to make up ground. Their score-ceiling is down to 12 points (as opposed to 14 for everyone above them), which is only just enough to hit that magic 12-point total typically needed to make it past the blocks. thus, he has little room for error, almost needing to win his next two matches in addition to needing a lot of help as he has lost some major matches (Bullet Club has been the bane of Douki's tournament).
So what does Douki have to do to hit 12? Well, first he has a long break from tournament competition, as he was supposed to face Akira on the next show. Instead, his next tournament match will be against Kushida on the 28th, followed by Robbie Eagles on the last day. It'll be a technical test of Douki's skills. Will he pass the exam, or will Douki Chokey?

7) SHO

• 8 points: 4 wins, 3 losses
• 7.3% to go to the playoffs:
  • 1.5% as #1
  • 5.8% as #2
• Biggest Wins: Moloney [8], DOUKI [8]
• Worst Losses: Eagles [10], KUSHIDA [8], Hiromu [8]

The final 8-pointer is the IWGP Junior Heavyweight Champion himself, Sho. Despite being the junior champ, Sho has not had a great performance in this year's tournament. Losses to Eagles, Kushida, and Hiromu are all terribly damaging, and will make it difficult to qualify for the playoffs, even if he does make 12. He'll need all of them to falter badly if he wants to win this tournament.
As for himself, he needs to stay on track. His next match will be against the winless Dragon Dia, so that should be a very winnable match for him. After that, he closes his tournament early, because his final match was supposed to be against Akira on the final block day. Instead, his final block match will be against Taiji Ishimori on the 28th. We'll see if Sho can climb out of this hole he's dug for himself.

8) Ninja Mack

• 4 points: 2 wins, 4 losses
• 0.002% to go to the playoffs as #2
• Biggest Wins: Eagles [10]
• Worst Losses: Ishimori [8], Hiromu [8], DOUKI [8], SHO [8]

The last wrestler (technically) left in contention is Noah's Ninja Mack. He had some spectacular wins to begin this tournament, beating current block leader Robbie Eagles in his first BOSJ match, but consecutive losses to the biggest names in this tournament have sent Mack plummeting down the block. It'll take a miracle for Mack to make the playoffs.
His remaining matches will still certainly be spectacles, though, I'm sure. Kushida on the 26th, Dragon Dia on the 28th, and Drilla Moloney on the 31st. Regardless of how it turns out, though, Ninja Mack has certainly caught eyes from around the world, so at the very least, he'll have that to take away from the tournament.

9) Francesco Akira

• 4 points: 2 wins, 7 losses
• Eliminated from contention (forfeit)

It's an unfortunate situation for young Akira. while his early performance wasn't really something to write home about, it's still a shame that he isn't able to close the tournament on his own terms. Get well soon, Francesco.

10) Dragon Dia

• 0 points: 0 wins, 6 losses
• Eliminated from contention

Finally, we have Dragon Dia. While his last minute inclusion in this BOSJ as a replacement was an honorable one, he has yet to put together anything to show for it. At this point, I think his only real goal is to not close this tournament on a goose egg, and maybe spoil someone on the way out.
His next matches aren't too momentous, as he faces two guys in the bottom of the block. That being said, if he can win his next match against the IWGP Jr. Champion Sho, then that may make this whole journey worth it. After that will be Ninja Mack, who's hanging by a thread himself and will likely be eliminated from contention by that point. However, his final match against Kushida may be his biggest opportunity left. If he can prove himself against a former ace of New Japan's Junior division, it would be a huge deal for him. Let's see if he can do it.

What's Next?

The next show will be another double-block day for the BOSJ. With Akira out, only 4 B Block matches are scheduled for the show. the biggest ones will be the top 2, as they feature guys very much still in contention. The first is Ishimori vs Moloney, who are practically neck-and-neck in this race, and the second is Hiromu vs Eagles, the ace vs the block leader. We'll also have Kushida vs Ninja Mack and Sho vs Dragon Dia in a pari fo 8-pointer vs outsider matches. Can Robbie extend his lead, or will there be a massive pile-up at the 10-point mark? A lot can go down for B Block on this next show.
That'll be all for this post. I'll be rounding up the A Block summary for this past show shortly. Fortunately, we have a bit of a break until the next show, so I'll have some time to breath.
Until then, thanks for reading! See you next post.

Here are my previous tales:
The Tale of Skeptic: he hated fantasy elements and joined a fantasy-themed campaign to antagonize us.
The Tale of Mess: destroyer of comics, bane of cheesecakes.
The Tale of Sicko: it was worse than FATAL.
The Tale of Ego: still not solved, currently.
The Tale of Condor: a magnificent fest of WTF-ery.
Welcome back, one and all, with two more Tales from my Association, where, no matter how disruptive and detrimental you are, everybody is forced to stand you, so that our President can brag about how much inclusive, welcoming and accepting she is!
Heck, the Association forced everybody to be accepting of Hoboclown, a guy who went around ON PURPOSE dressed poorly (like a hobo, hence the name), who was willingly and actively stinky, who ate in a disgusting way precisely to gross out people, and who was also a disruptive, racist crapstain, who harassed women specifically to make them feel violated.
BUT we had to pretend nothing was wrong because he was “a special needs poor fella, who just didn't know any better”, and the only people to be reprimanded and censored were the ones who complained about his fuckeries.
And now, two short stories.
I swear, I will keep these ones manageable, and not turn them into sagas, sorry.
BRAT
Yeah, no creative nickname, this time: Brat was just that.
A Brat.
He was, and I think he still is, a pompous, self-centered, self-important, whiny, judgmental know-it-all, whose entire strategy to win an argument was to say that, since he studied History of Cinematography, his opinion was the only valid one talking about any form of narrative, and anybody who disagreed didn't understand anything about art.
He had two experiences with our gaming group: in the first, mastered by Guild, his character contributed nothing, and he refused to learn how to play, because he was too busy pontificating about how much smarter he was IRL than all of us, because he liked movies that are actually good.
The only noteworthy thing that happened in this occasion, was that my character jokingly punched his in the shoulder, dealing zero damage and leading to absolutely no in-game consequences.
But that leads us to the second experience.
I was mastering a campaign slightly based on the web-series RWBY (before everything in said series went straight to the deepest bowel of the darkest, most abyssal Inferno), and the party had to defend a city from a seemingly endless horde of Grimm (monsters that exist with the sole purpose of annihilating mankind).
Brat arrived, got a pre-made character, and spent the entire session being a contrarian, antagonizing the pacific NPCs the party was supposed to protect, refusing to understand the setting, the plot and the mechanics, and whining whenever his character faced consequences for his actions, such as NPCs refusing to give in to his demand after he attacked some of them because they didn't take him seriously enough.
Once I asked Brat what the heck was going on, he admitted that, since in the other campaign my character punched his, now that I was the master I had the DUTY to appease him and give him everything he wanted, to compensate him.
I was honestly shocked, because I had no idea somebody could be so entitled as to actually believe such bullshit, but thankfully Guild and Bastion managed to convince him to leave.
Yeah, not as horrifying as other stuff I posted, sorry.
CLACKER
I want to preface this other one to make one thing very clear: Clacker is not entirely at fault.
The Association holds the most guilt, this instance, more than usual.
It all started when they asked me to GM a game for some kids.
Sure, it's always nice to introduce more people to the magic world of TTRPGS.
Unfortunately, one of the players was Clacker, a kid with particularly heavy conditions, who immediately fell in love with the wooden chest of dice, and spent the sessions shaking it to make a clacking sound, all the while refusing to stop and doing the creepiest Gollum impression I ever witnessed, calling the box “His Precioussssss” with a wide open grin.
He also broke some minis, but I only found out about it later.
Anyhow, his chest obsession culminated in the final session of the game, when he decided that ALL dice belonged to him, and that nobody had permission to use them.
He literally grabbed the dice box and rolled himself into a ball to physically stop anybody from using them.
And why did he feel like he could do that, ruining everybody else's game?
Because every other session, the Association member supervising the game allowed him to.
Because they were afraid that setting boundaries, telling him “no”, or finding a more proper activity form him to do, would have made him whine.
Because, as usual, making sure NOBODY is told ro behave is seen as the solution, around here.
Therefore, he became so emboldened in his attitude, that when they finally asked him if he could at least give the other kids enough dice to play, while keeping the others for himself, he had a full-blown meltdown and started kicking walls, climbing shelves and destroying properties of the Association.
Of course, he faced no repercussions whatsoever, was allowed to keep the dice (we later managed to get enough connection to use an internet dice-roller, but we did lose forty minutes due to Clacker), and they tried to cheer him up as if EVERYBODY ELSE had hurt HIM.
Now, I see that he couldn't help it, therefore, as I stated, I only marginally blame him... BUT, ffs, if he clearly isn't a good fit for the game, and he wasn't even interested in playing, why did the Association keep shoving it into said activity?
Hope I can hear your ideas, it is almost time for the final tale (for now).

Hi i been trying to reach thru email and discord. Its not fair for banned my account. I have uc in the account. I play for 4 year with my account and i logged in everyday. my midasbuy 8 level. I just added $600 dollars worth of uc. It was credit card without my consent and request for refund i didnt even know i saw keep deducting and i added more UC. I cant even stream and so sad i cant play with my account. I work hard to pay debt off i spent alot money on content creator. My dream one day become pubg partner. Pubg partner told me to contact customer service. I hope you guys please unbanned my account i have 7 gems luminous muse. I need to redeem. Its finish by tonight. I got insulted by teenagers and everyone is waiting for me to stream go check my youtube channel opbellax. I been working so hard for this account and got banned. That really hurt me so much. I didnt do anything wrong.
Sincerely,
Bella
My pubg ID 5842201806
At least tell me what should i do so i can get unbanned.

It's been such a long time i am listening to subs, something like 3 yrss. But yet i haven't got any physical results. The only result i got till now is a text from a desired person, which idk the sub really worked or it was a mere coincidence. I have tried so many thing. Long playlists, short playlists, listening to subs for different topics at the same time, one topic at one time, MOAB, Made my own subliminal, made a subliminal with my own voice and whatnot.... But ughh it's just...... Idk what is it that i am doing wrong. I am so frustrated rn, cause i have patient from a very long time, thinking i have them or with a living in the end mentality. But nooo, i don't have them. I listened to subs for good grades they didn't work. Whyyy??? What is it that i am doing wrong??? I might sound really obsessed now, but it is not like that, i am sounding obsessed with getting results now but it's because of the frustration, other than that I don't even look for them, i don't even check in the mirror if i have them or not. I just listen subs and nothing else. I always say that "oh I don't need to worry, i have all my results". I am always consistent with my playlist. But stilll.....
Rn i am listening to a playlist for lips, i listen to that playlist in day. I made my own sub, it's like a all in one sub for every desires of mine which i made in my own voice. It's more like an affirmation tape cause i haven't added any music it just layered it with the same set of affirmations, i am kinda not sure about it, If it's made correctly or not. Should i continue listening it or just listen to some beauty subs from other creators?
Guys if you can help me out in any way please do.

this is yet again all so sad, even if starbucks doesnt support israel guys
a creator who's always talked about critical thinking skills, talking about all this so lightly, only bringing it up after being accused
there's no way he didnt know about it after months and months you guys (unsubscribed immediately), and because of the sadness i felt after loving him for so long i came to this sub for the first time
but as everywhere, even what i thought was atleast a community of people with common decency and humanity have none
kurtis after the whole racist stuff too i unsubscribed a long time ago after also loving him for years, and danny and drew didnt say anything about that as well yea? it's all just so upsetting<\3
i didnt know about danny not talking about this because i stopped seeing all 3 of their contents much a while ago when the whole kurtis stuff started, but when i saw that he just did a lighthearted community post, which is just soo ignorant yet again and then turned off the comments too because i never thought i'd say thiss but atleast youtube has somee better sense than this sub
edit, alright, youtube is the same as everywhere, this is what im saying, youd think his community n him were better, that hee'd be the one to educate his community, or that his community wouldd be educated, it's not "not that deep" it's one of thee worst things to ever happen that's been going on for cennturiess in this big year ! it's not about the coffee, but about getting as much help we can get to the people stuck and dying there, the realisation is just that if it's white people from america they dont care enough about their own kids to stop the guns n the shooting n if it's people of colour it's the muslim or brown hate i dont even know what it isnt at this point, as i just said, it's sad yeah
im atleast happy to get out of a community like this, of a creator like as he didnt say anything about the kurtis situation too for the people in the comments and i'll be doing my best for the people in gaza, congo, sudan, syria, burma, ethiopia and pakistan unlike all of you

So this, this takes a lot of contextual details into account, so strap in.
I (27F) have a brother, (33M). The age gap between us is relevant. Growing up, I just wanted to be friends with my brother, he was one of my favorite people in the world even if he did bully me sometimes.
I'm going to provide some examples of his treatment.
When I was about three, he came into my room after I had been put to bed, wearing a mask and holding a butter knife above me. Still afraid of masks to this day.
He would always drink every pitcher of something I made and never make any after finishing it. Sometimes I wouldn't even get a glass. My mom was busy fostering other kids and didn't have time for 'petty squabbles'. Once, I spit in the top of the pitcher and left the lid off so he could see it. He yanked away the bowl of cereal I was eating and spit in it, shoving it back so hard some spilled on me. I had just hit preteen age and was really sick of just taking his crap, so I splashed it back at him. He threw me to the ground and started hitting me. My mom heard the fighting and told us we were both at fault, so he never got punished.
One time, my parents busted him with drugs. There was a screaming match and he was only home from college for the holidays. Once he left, I felt safe to come out of my room again and was at the dining room table drawing or doing winter break worksheets or something. I think I was around 14. My brother came back in and got something from the kitchen before going back down to his room in the basement, but he said some snarky comment to me before going down. I hadn't even said anything or made a noise to warrant it. What I said in turn was 'At least I don't do drugs.' The next second, I was pulled up by my neck and my brother slammed me into the wall. Things are kind of foggy, but my next memory is waking up on the floor and crying for our parents. I'm not really sure what the punishment for that was. I think he just left and went back to college early to avoid it.
After the fight this post is actually about, I learned from my mom that he actively denied that this ever happened. I was really traumatized about it. The drug he claimed to be on became an almost catastrophic trigger. I would feel hands on my throat and the darkness closing in again at the mere mention of it, it could send me into a panic attack. I've gotten better about my reaction to it, but I still refuse to have it anywhere around me or in my life. It's a socially accepted drug, so it's cost me more than a few relationships. When I heard he denied it, I looked at my mom and said, how many times have I lied versus him? And why would I make up something like that? She's seen the reactions. I broke up with a guy I really liked because he refused to keep it away from me. If I saw a scene in a TV show when it was more recent, I would curl up into a ball and couldn't talk, my throat felt so tight, I just cried. I'd like to know how or why I would have faked reactions like that. She never really believed him since he was known to lie, but it was still appalling he tried to lie about something so severe.
And that's not all! Once, my mom kicked him out when she snapped at him for his dog hurting our dogs and he called her a bitch, living rent free with our parents at 27 after failing through college due to partying. My mom had enough and told him to get out. He texted me and asked if he could stay with me for the night, despite me being away at college 2 hours from our town. I didn't think my mom did anything wrong, but I couldn't bring myself to leave him alone like that. I still loved him, even after all that up there.
So I said yes. I lived in an apartment near campus with a roommate, and we each had our own bedroom and ensuite bathroom, plus the kitchenette and a living room we shared. I had a 'friend' at the time- I asked him if he could possibly bring some booze over for my brother, giving a quick run down of the situation, and he agreed that yeah, the man probably needed a drink (I wasn't old enough to purchase alcohol, so I asked him). All three of us hung out on the porch to make sure we didn't disturb my roommate until around 3 AM, where my brother's drunk comments are making me really uncomfortable so my 'friend' suggests we head to bed, since we have class in the morning, too. Friend regularly sleeps with me in my bed, so its not an issue. And I cleared the couch in the shared living room with my roommate before I told my brother it was okay. So I go in first, change into pajamas, and then let my brother in to do all the bathroom stuff he needed before bed. I'm laying down and half asleep when I'm yanked out of bed by my arm and forcibly pushed through my own door, my brother demanding my bed. 'Friend' gently stood up for me and reminded him that I was already being generous by letting him stay at all, he could at least respect me. My brother did not like that. He started slurring angry stuff at both of us and collecting his dog's toys, saying that he'll just drive all the way home if I'm going to be like this. This is after he consumed like, half a bottle of fireball. So that was NOT happening. I'm standing in the way of the front door and blocking it once my brother finally finds his keys and he starts pulling me away and hurting me. 'Friend' tackled him and pinned him to the ground in an old highschool wrestling hold. I snatch the keys and run into the kitchenette, remove the sink filter, and hold the keys close in case I have to throw them down the drain in desperation. My brother is screaming and hurling insults left and right and I'm deeply traumatized already because of his violence towards me and from the vitriol just makes me cry really hard. My roommate knows I'm quiet and the noise wakes her up and she asks what the hell is going on. I try to explain but I'm basically in hysterics and 'friend' explains for me, while calmly still pinning my brother. Roomie was in nursing school and turned on the Nurse Voice immediately to address my brother. She tells him she just lost a friend to a drunk driver, and it is not responsible to drive in this state. She'll perform sobriety tests periodically and when he passes, he can go. And if he continues and tries to leave, she will call the cops on him for drunk driving, and my 'friend' and I could probably tell the cops about the violence, too. Around 5 AM he was finally sober enough to pass and his last words to me were 'I hope you fucking like mom and dad, because we aren't family anymore'. It shattered me.
He didn't talk to me for 2 years.
I got presents when I came home on my birthday and christmas from him during that time, and my parents said he was busy working and left the presents early with them, he was still annoyed but we were family. I believed it. I later realized that my parents were lying and covering up for him because they knew it would have broken my heart.
At some point after that, he started turning himself around. He never really apologized for any of the things he did to me. But I let him back into my life anyway, because I loved him, and I had always wanted my brother to be my friend. Our family is really small. I was just happy to jump at the chance to hang out with him again. He ended up with a girlfriend and he bought a house where they both stayed, so I finally had a place to actually visit him since he had been more or less couch surfing until then. I was so excited. My brother was older and more mature, and he had his own house now! We could finally be close!
Obviously... That wasn't how things turned out.
Why exactly none of us like his girlfriend is a different, long story. But suffice it to say, we all pretty much hated her and hated that he was with her. She basically forbade us from being over at his house very much. I tried to overlook the crappy things she had done to us, because she and I shared a lot of traits and interests. I would have a cool sister! Now? It disgusts me that we share anything in common. Point is, I would still keep trying to be friendly with both of them. There came a day when I sat my brother down and had a real conversation with him. When he was truly sad, he seemed to come to me. He told me he wasn't happy with her. He just was terrified of being alone. He was really afraid of her being a mother, due to her mental and medical state, and the fact that she was so lazy around the house (working from home, too). And that was the last time I was over at his house, because we heard the girlfriend's comforter rustling and he panicked and shoo'ed me out of the house before she realized I was there. That was about 3 years ago.
I kept being really excited when he was over for holidays. But he was over for less and less, because they went with her family more, or she wanted to go home. He wouldn't show up on birthdays the day of, or even the weekend. It'd be like two weeks later, and it was almost always gift cards for my parents. Like jesus christ, the least you could do is hand your parent the card on their birthday. Anyway, I would always ask him to hang out later on and he'd say yeah, then back out at the last minute. It stung every time. I started asking less and less. It got to the point where he would even back out of playing animal crossing with me online, from the comfort of his own home. That's when I gave up. He used to text me once in a while with memes, at least. But that stopped long ago. I realized that I was the only one putting effort into our relationship, and it crushed me.
I'm not going to lie, I became really bitter about his girlfriend. When he announced they were engaged, none of our family was happy. But I managed to save the relationship between all of us by apologizing over text and pointing out that all our faces dropped with pain and confusion because he was referring to his fiancee by a nickname, that was also the name of our dog that had passed only a month ago. Which, that's partially true, that's definitely why my face looked shattered. I wasn't happy, but I wasn't going to bring it up.
As my brother got older and started making healthier decisions, I kept up hope that one day he'd come to his senses. Either ditch the fiance or put more effort into family relationships. But I started losing hope really quickly. I dreaded the day when they would tell us a wedding date or that a baby was on the way.
Mother's day came, and my brother backed out of brunch with my mom, stating he was tired from having breakfast with fiance's mom (yeah. yeah, that was a pretty common theme and just one more reason we didn't like them together). So he'd take her out the next weekend. Last year he backed out after being twenty minutes late because he took his fiancee to urgent care for one of her usual and frequent migraines. He kept telling us he wouldn't be long. Get her a refill on the injections she would use and come to us. An hour and a half later, he said to go home and that he was sorry, we'd reschedule.
He never rescheduled.
So, up comes the make up brunch for my mom this year. I had already given her my present, so she had at least some mother's day celebration. I woke up with a pretty bad headache and immediately downed allergy pills and advil so I could make it through brunch at least, for my mom's sake and to see if my brother had changed any. At this point in the relationship with my brother, I'm pretty bitter. I went back and checked my texts while we were waiting for him in the restaurant. The last text between my brother and I was January of this year. And it was me asking if hypothetically could I stay with him if my mom threw me out (I've asked it before many times, and he would say yes-- It's not really likely that my mom would throw me out, but I have kind of bad anxiety and it makes me feel better to have back up plans). He said 'uh maybe very short term it would be hell with my dogs and schedule lol' and I just stared at the text. He asked if I had considered getting my own place-- Well, yes, I have, but I really can't bring myself to do it because it would mean separating my family's two dogs (technically one is mine, ones is my parents', but they're so attached to each other) and I couldn't just leave my dog behind either. I told him not to worry, because mom had calmed down.
But back to breakfast. I'm usually a little more lively around my brother and usually try to talk to him a lot, about anything, or something I'm excited about. Between my bitterness and the headache, I didn't say more than 40 words through the whole meal, I think. The two times my brother spoke to me at all were to mansplain to me about my favorite Fallout character (its Hancock, he uses drugs, but you can get him off them if you do his friendship arc). He asked me if I'd seen the show yet. I told him no, because I asked a friend to watch through it and see if Hancock's drug use was too frequent or severe before I started it. And then he asked me who Hancock was. And I was like??? The guy with the lasagna face? Turns out Hancock is actually the main character of the show. He pretty much talked down to me 'you know they're not real drugs, right, they just exist in the universe. he takes his inhaler everyday'. Internally I'm like 'No you fucking moron, they're real drugs, with different names. If you paid attention to crafting or lore, you would realize that. You need fertilizer to make the drug you're talking about (jet)-- you know, like people who will shit in a bag and huff it. Buffout is basically steroids. And Hancock decreases his drug use if you become close with him, but sure, tell me about my favorite character you know shit about, not even his fucking name.' But I say none of this. I just return to being quiet and slowly eating my food. The other time he talked to me was when I asked the waitress if my mom could have a redo on her eggs because they weren't the cook she asked for (which, also, this is big for me! I have severe anxiety and ordering food is so hard, much less speaking up about an inconsistency) and my mom was so grateful. She didn't want to make a fuss, but I would, for her. When the lady took the eggs back he's all shitty like 'you know that if they fuck it up the first time, then they probably can't make it right, don't you' and I just looked at him and didn't bother responding. Like, okay. You assume its just one person back there making eggs? If one was screwed, either they would just refire it with extra care or one of the other line cooks would do it. I watch a ton of Kitchen Nightmares and Hells Kitchen, so I think I'm a little more familiar with the back of house or how the line works than my brother. And that people don't actually usually mess with your food for simple or reasonable requests. But he doesn't know that (actually, I roped my mom into Hell's Kitchen, and we then further roped my dad in, so Hell's Kitchen is now a Family Event), because of course he doesn't, he never asks about me or my interests. By the end of brunch, I'm just kind of pissed off, and my head is aching. We're walking out and my brother hands my mom a card. She opens it up and it says something something something grandma and opens on a sonogram. And I'm just so done with everything. I mutter to myself 'are you fucking kidding me'. My mom is putting up a good effort in being nice to soon to be wife and while personally, this disgusts me and crushed my spirit, I was not focused on the baby talk. I did manage to pick up his fiance saying 'oh yeah well i'm not on speaking terms with my family at the moment, so i have to talk to SOMEONE'S family haha' (like wow, okay, tell us you don't consider us family until we're a back up plan a little louder). We were out in the sun, it was hot, and my head was pounding. After a few minutes I asked 'can we go now' and my brother got shitty with me, because the world revolves around him (god forbid he had sympathy for a migraine given his own fiancee, but he didn't even notice to care that I said less than 50 words) and snapped at me that 'You don't have to be here, no one invited you'. And I was just done. I walked away closer to the car and I didn't catch it but my mom glared daggers at him and said that she had invited me. Then my brother said the thing that was the last straw.
'That's some fucking family for you.'
I was engulfed in rage. He put us on the back burner, barely spoke to us, minimized visits for his girlfriend's comfort, and yet somehow, he decided I was shitty family? I did his homework for him when I was a child and he was in high school. I always was there for him when he got depressed or existential crisis now and then. I advocated for my parents to make up with him after the fight where my mom kicked him out. When he tried to finish his degree since he only had one semester left when he really fucked it up, he asked ME for help, because he would need the help in the last core class he needed- Calculus. I was STILL IN HIGHSCHOOL. And I agreed! (He never ended up going, but that's not the point). I was the one who reminded my parents of what desserts he liked for family gatherings. I was the one who would dogsit for him when he would just leave without telling anyone, because he knew if I heard the dog cry in its crate I would feel bad and release it, and that I wouldn't put it away in a crate if I was home because I felt bad. I was the one that tried to convince my parents to give his fiance a second chance. I made 300 fake facebook accounts years ago before verification was a thing to vote for his band to headline a medium large concert for a decently known band.
He used to steal my things to pawn them for drug money. He would threaten to say goodbye to my chao when I reminded him it was my turn to play. He would call me a dependent loser for not having 'x' life skill already when he didn't have it at my age either, and long after that! He used physical force against me several times. He would purposely taunt me with things I was afraid of. He repeatedly cut me off and didn't talk to me for a while over some petty thing he got angry about, but 2 years was the longest ever by at least a year. He would use me as a kid to ask our parents about something he wanted, and me being a kid, would go along with it because I loved him and wanted to make him happy. He decided to spend one summer with his girlfriend in California or whatever during highschool and I was crushed and asked him if we would be able to hang out any before the next school year started because he would go away for college and he laughed in my face. He always used me as the soundboard to vent about my parents (again, I am much younger than him)! He would constantly make fun of me that I had no friends and that I would be alone all my life, and that continued through adulthood, too. He would talk down to me about my chosen second family/people I met online long distance. He would make fun of things I liked all the time knowing that I found his opinion important.
I had done nothing but love him my entire life, and he barely acknowledged me in his.
So I fucking lost it. I started screaming back at him (in public, in a parking lot, loud-- all things that are important because I have severe anxiety and hate making a spectacle, this was how far things had gotten) about how he was an ungrateful piece of shit and he had personally told me he wasn't happy with her and that she would be a terrible mother and all I wanted was for him to be happy but I'm shitty family? He resorted to his standard argument when he has no argument- Puff out his chest and say 'lay a hand on me, lay a hand on me'. My parents were so shocked by the fact that I had an outburst like that, they couldn't react for a moment. Neither of them told me off, at any point. My dad started to redirect me towards the car to end the argument and my brother has one last clapback 'remember when you asked to move in with me? yeah, this is wh--' I cut him off by screaming about when he asked ME to stay with me in my apartment and threw me out of my own room, and his only comeback was 'it wasn't YOUR apartment, it was THEIR apartment' pointing to my parents, because like for him, they paid for my accommodations in college. I had enough. I told him to never fucking contact me again, because he is NOT my fucking family, he chose his family and he is dead to me. And I got in the car. Didn't listen to another word.
My parents stayed out there with my brother and his fiance for a while. I hadn't known anything that had gone on until later when talking to my mom.
Again, neither one of them scolded me a single bit when they got in the car. They just gave me this really apologetic look because they knew how sad and hurt I had to be to finally cut him out of my life for good. I was really wound up and stressed out and I sort of asked my mom to choose between us-- Poor wording on my part, but I needed to be supported. My brother always got away with treating me like shit without any consequences-- And me not being in his life wasn't a consequence either, because his life would not change without me in it. She kinda got cross with me by saying she would never abandon either of us and I took it as 'you're enabling this by keeping contact, and saying that it's okay for him to treat me like this' and I went to my room. I shut my door and started sobbing my eyes out. My mom had heard me through two door and down the hall and she came to hug me. And I asked her straight up like 'what's going to happen at the wedding? are you going to go if he doesn't invite me?' Because like I said, he never had consequences for treating me like garbage my entire life. I wanted there to be SOME form of consequence. She did reassure me that if he pulled that move, neither one of my parents would go. We had a long talk about how it really hurt my feelings the way she said she wouldn't abandon either of us because, you know, at the time, it really felt like she wasn't supporting me with that choice. But I had also worded my question really poorly, being so upset and all. I told her how I felt about him not ever having any repercussions so I needed my parents to at least back me up on that. They don't plan on contacting him much, but won't outright abandon him if he needs something. But if it comes down to it, like if the wedding invite doesn't come, they would support me over my brother. And she had made it clear to him that family is like a totem pole, and on that totem pole, I definitely was higher than him.
A few days later, I was telling her how it still really hurt. I don't regret what I did and I will never take it back, but it pained me to know how little I really meant to him. I think I was hoping that the shock of me finally giving up on him would ring some alarm bells in his head. We were talking about it and she ended up conversationally giving me more details about what had happened after I got in the car and the aftermath. Apparently after my outburst, the fiance started walking away crying that 'first she didn't have her family, and now she doesn't have his family either'.
Remember how she said she wasn't on speaking terms with her family? Her older brother and his wife have a child that their mom babysits sometimes. They're considering another child, via IVF. The fiance is mad that her baby won't be her mom's priority if they have another child and that her brother was hogging their mom to babysit.
Yeah. Gee, wonder why they won't talk to you anymore either.
And she told my mom about the moving in comment, that it was just because she didn't want their large dogs to shred my small dog, or anything worse, because she would feel horrible (I don't believe this for a second, it was another convenient excuse). My mom looked at her and asked if she was serious, because I never would have brought my dog over there. Again, because of how happy she is with her sister. The fiance actually looked shocked at this information, indicating that my brother was up to his old lying was again.
Speaking of my brother, apparently he told my parents that he would never come over here again as long as I live here. And honestly? That's fine with me. I don't want him in this house. I am agoraphobic and my home is like a sanctuary. My mom and I were talking about how ridiculous this all is and how entitled they are, and I mention that it occurred to me that they were suddenly invested in being a family now that she's pregnant and definitely getting married (and after she won't speak to her family) and I wouldn't be surprised if they only told us and played the 'family' card because they had expected me to be my normal gentle and loving self. That it seemed convenient, and I couldn't help but think they had only allowed us in on the news expecting a baby shower gift or wedding gift. Or for me to arrange the baby shower-- Fiance doesn't have a sister, isn't talking to her mom, and doesn't have that many female friends (shocker). My mom sighed and said it wouldn't surprise her either if they had expected me to be their baby sitter for the same reason, just like I took care of his dog because I couldn't refuse it with my soft heart. And honestly, I had thought that too, but I dismissed the thought because it seemed too much like they would consider me for that. But my mom had the same idea, so it couldn't be that far off.
She told me she had reached out to my brother one last time, after the initial fight, after she had comforted me from the violent sobbing and saw just how much it hurt. The gist was just 'you should really apologize to your sister, all she ever really wanted from you was for you to acknowledge her as part of your life. our family is small, and it hurts to see you two like this. All it takes is an invite to hang out now and again, that's all she wants. I hope you can figure this out. Enjoy the rest of your weekend, I love you'.
My brother's response was 'I am not handling this situation right now'.
And it really hit me. He wasn't willing to do the bare minimum of an apology and spending any time with me at all. I laughed bitterly and told my mom he probably thinks that by the time his birthday rolls around I'll feel bad and come back to him-- He'll have a nasty surprise coming.
I'm pretty sure I'm not the asshole here. But between my anxiety, my hurt, and just the long history of me forgiving my brother because I love him, I keep wondering if maybe I shouldn't have. I go back and forth between thinking that I was wrong and that I was just showing off my shiny new backbone.
So, AITA for cutting contact with my brother and his pregnant fiance?

Hi all, hope you well. I'm facing a little bit of trouble with my boyfriend lately. We live one and a half, and aren't obviously able to meet often due to our hectic work schedules. We also have a mutual (now mutual, but basically his bestfriend) living in the same city as him.
We met in a different city for work, so I'm pretty used to the live-in set up. We're back in our home towns, and "LDR" has been sort of rough. We are hardly able to meet, and he mostly initiates the plan for us to meet altogether - I really like to hang out with our mutual friend, he's a good guy. However, I am not much of a social person, and I'd prefer to meet my boyfriend a little more in private rather than in a group setting to catch up over the intimacy we can't have over the online medium.
Apparently, he's alright with - if we're able to engage a meet 6 times a month, it should then be 50-50. Meaning, 3 times us meeting privately, while the remaining 3 times for us three to meet as a group, while he already sees his best friend on an everyday basis, but doesn't consider it to be an 'outing.'
I don't know if I'm too much in my head, but it's been annoying me a little. I love to meet in a group setting, and it's fun in its own way. However, due to 'LDR' I haven't been able to build on us as a couple, and we are hardly able to communicate online as well, and would prefer to meet a bit more on a private basis, and am unable to understand why it's supposed to be such a big deal or a topic of discussion. He's definitely a lot more social than me, and says that by meeting equally - he's balancing his friendships and relationship - now I don't understand how it's true when he meets his friend daily, and 3 times a month for me privately.
I am 21 F and he's 23M

1. Above all other questions, this is first and foremost. How could I ever learn to truly love a creator with full power over the entire universe to give everyone everything they ever wanted in a millisecond, but instead refuses to lift a finger 99.99999999% of the time? I cannot begin to tell you how many things in my life I wanted to work out that should have been laughably easy for an all powerful God to pull off, but he decided my happiness wasn’t important.

1. How can I feel such absolute nothingness during church? I can’t even remember the last time I felt God’s presence. Most Sundays I go in telling myself I’m going to get into it, but I always find myself internally begging for it to be over about halfway through.
   
2. Why is the most common outcome to my prayers always a 💩 answer literally years after I’ve stopped even caring about the thing I prayed about? Other times, the things I pray for are given to people around me like some sort of sick joke.
   

Guys I want to clarify that I WANT to be here. I want to go to heaven. But I don’t know how I can love a God with power over the universe who won’t answer the most trivial things we ask of him.

Previous case
The infected deer are starting to become a real problem. That being said, as the title suggests, the worms are the least of my worries.
(If you're not familiar with what Orion Pest Control's services are, it may help to start here.)
On my drive home a few nights ago, I saw the reflection of eyes in the distance. As I slowed down, I discovered a buck standing in the middle of the road, head bent over gray fur.
It was eating an opossum. Or, more accurately, the worms puppeteering it were coiling around the opossum, their mouths leaving huge holes in the poor animal's fur as they dragged it between the deer's open jaws.
Like the infected doe I'd encountered before, the buck’s stomach was pulsating as the worms moved. Its fur was unruly, the white patch over its throat stained with layers of dried blood.
My stomach fluttered in disgust at the way the parasites protruded from its mouth. God, those worms… Steeling myself, I snatched my toolbelt off of the passenger seat along with the shotgun and went out to take care of it. Unfortunately, I only had regular shells that time. After the incident at the farm, I hadn't had the time to restock on salt shells. They would've made this process much faster and easier.
I just had to shoot it in the head, then pour salt on each worm afterwards. Same as before. No problem, right?
The sound that the worms made as they devoured the opossum made my skin crawl. The sliminess of their skin as they slithered around each other combined with the wet tearing of flesh and fur. Whatever you're imagining, I assure you that the noise was far more nauseating in real life.
Before the worms or their host had a chance to notice me, I took aim and pulled the trigger. The side of the buck's head exploded. It let out a deep, guttural groan as the worms dropped from around the trapped rodent.
The buck then lowered its antlers at me. Fuckfuckfuck! I sprinted for my car as it charged me, the worms flopping around as they were dragged across the road by their host. I got out of the way just as the buck's antlers pierced my G6's hood. It shook its head violently, my little car shaking along with it as it tried to get its antlers free.
Why was it so much more aggressive than the doe? Had it been infected longer?
Just as I raised the shotgun again, I felt something brush against my foot. I was so glad that nobody was around to see me yelp like a coyote as I expertly flailed away from the worm that had taste-tested my boot.
There was an ear-splitting, metallic groan as the buck got its antlers free. I stepped away from the worms as I fired again. The buck fell to the side, causing the worms to lurch to the ground like cut ropes. Heroically, I backed away from them even more as they began to convulse, fumbling with shaking hands to get the salt out of my toolbelt.
The area around me became much brighter as another vehicle made its way down the road. I got off to the side to lower the chances of getting hit, then otherwise ignored it as I finished the job by seasoning the parasites, grimacing as they writhed against their salty demise.
From behind me, I heard the oncoming vehicle start to slow down. I had just finished salting the final worm when the driver completely slowed to a stop. Glaring against the headlights, dread pooled in my stomach as I recognized the old, boxy blue Ford pickup. I'd seen it parked at the mechanic's shop every time I've had to go over there.
What was he doing here?
Coincidences don't exist in this line of work. I hadn't seen the mechanic since that day he'd turned me into a dog. I'd went out of my way to try to avoid him, which in hindsight, I probably could've been more subtle about.
It occurred to me to run. A frightened, primal impulse. But if I'm right about what the mechanic is, that'd be a horrible idea. They take cruel delight in hunting their prey down. Not knowing what else to do as my heart raced, I made sure that the buck and the worms were dead, shooting the infected animal in the head one last time. It didn't move. Neither did the worms.
The truck's door creaked open, then slammed shut. And with the sound of his boots on the gravel, I said a quick prayer, hoping that whatever god heard me would be a merciful one.
The mechanic grimaced at the dead worms, “Hoo, those things are nasty.”
All I could think of to say in my state was, “…Yeah.”
Brilliant, right?
He clicked his tongue, then walked over to my G6, shaking his head. “It sure did a number on this.”
For the first time, I got to see the extent of the damage that the buck had done to my poor little car. The hood was crumpled and riddled with several small holes. I had left it running, but after the attack, the engine had gone quiet. My dread worsened as I noticed that some sort of fluid was pooling beneath the front of the car.
The mechanic popped the hood, absent-mindedly nudging a dead worm out of the way with his heel as he examined my suffering car.
“Yeah, that's the fuckin’ radiator.” The mechanic commented. “This thing ain't going anywhere.”
You've gotta be kidding me.
I'm not a car person. I didn't know if he was messing with me or not. I stammered, “Are… are you serious?”
He closed my hood, “You see me laughing, puppydog?”
Prick.
“Please don't call me that.” I said, keeping my voice as even as possible.
He snickered, “What would you like me to call you, then?”
I replied, “Let's go back to ‘stranger.’”
He pursed his lips, “But we're really not strangers anymore, now, are we?”
I didn't like that he'd taken enough of an interest in me to want to use something other than a generic nickname for me. I didn't trust this. Not one bit.
The mechanic patted the G6's hood noisily before stepping over a worm to stand in front of me, “Well, I can tow this thing to the shop, then start workin’ on it in the morning. In the meantime, why don't you let me give you a lift?”
Oh, FUCK no.
“Thanks, but I have people I can call.” I replied, eyes on his chest to avoid his gaze.
He chuckled, “You really don't like accepting help when it's offered, do you?”
That was a warning. Don't push it.
Doing everything in my power to keep my voice calm, I asked, “Will you expect something in return?”
With a grin, he replied, “Just the pleasure of your company.”
I don't like this.
As much as I would've preferred to take my chances walking home and dealing with literally any other atypical animal that could be prowling the night, I was too afraid to wear the mechanic's patience any thinner.
He either read my mind or my thoughts showed on my face because he then added with a smirk, “You can bring your gun, if that'll make you feel safer.”
Unable to shake the feeling that I was going to the gallows, I reluctantly climbed into the passenger seat of his truck, flipping the safety switch on the shotgun before setting it on the floor against my leg.
The interior smelled pleasantly of black cherries. I'd expected the stench of motor oil. He wordlessly nativated the truck in front of my broken down car, then jumped back out again to hook everything up.
While he was busy with that, I quickly texted Victor and Reyna, ‘broke down. mechanic found me. taking me somewhere. not sure where yet.’
For good measure, I also shared my location with them. Afterwards, I jammed my phone back into my pocket, then peered into the side mirror to watch the mechanic. He was pulling on the chains he'd attached to my G6, testing their tightness. He looked like he was almost done.
My phone buzzed, but I didn't dare take it out again.
The mechanic climbed back into the driver's seat with a sigh. As the old pickup started down the road, my unease kept building. I felt like I shouldn't move or breathe too much, for some strange reason. This might sound dramatic, but I would've felt safer being trapped in a cage with a hungry lion. At least a lion would just shred me and be done with it.
I reminded myself that I was still wearing my toolbelt. He'd let me take the shotgun. I didn't know how effective salt, shells, or a silver blade would be against him, but it was slightly reassuring to know that I wasn't completely defenseless. Just slightly. The fact that he'd let me keep all of it told me that he didn't consider me a threat to him, even while armed.
The mechanic glanced at me, “I don't know about you, but I'm starving. I was on my way to Dillon's when I found you.”
Dillon's is an old 50's style diner that’s about a half hour walk away from my apartment. It's cheap, greasy, and gets the job done, especially when you're hungover.
The mechanic looked and sounded deceptively friendly as he spoke again, “Though, I am glad that we ran into each other! There's something that I've been wanting to discuss with you.”
That couldn't be good. I stared through the windshield, only looking over at him occasionally to avoid any possibility of him catching my eye.
The mechanic continued, “You remember when I told you the other night that you impressed me? I meant that. And humans don't normally impress me much, so… make of that what you will. However, you also tried to get smart with me and that is the shit I hate. You can be as polite as you want, but insolence is insolence, no matter how much you try to sugarcoat it.”
Even though his tone remained light, the nervous pit in my stomach grew into a gaping chasm. Was he still angry? And if he was, what did that mean for me?
The mechanic side-eyed me briefly as if he expected me to say something.
My phone buzzed in my pocket again. One of my coworkers tried to call me.
Another thing yinz need to know about dealing with the Neighbors: never use the words ‘I'm sorry,’ the reason being that an apology is an admission of a debt to them. If you have to atone for a transgression (and it is highly recommended that you do so), your phrasing matters.
I hoped that humbling myself would appease him, “My actions were a waste of your time and I absolutely regret them. It won't happen again.’
The mechanic snickered, “See, that's just it. You're so… fuck, what's the word I'm looking for? I heard it just the other day and it reminded me of you. Oh, right! Unctuous. You ever hear that word before?”
I told him I hadn't.
“It means someone who's insincerely polite. They tell you what you want to hear just to get what they want. Sound familiar, pup?”
He'd never been this ruthless in our interactions before. I needed to be careful.
Feeling my mouth get dry from impending panic, I shook my head, “That's not it. I just try to watch what I say. I don't mean for it to come off as disingenuous.”
Throughout this whole conversation, his smile stayed in place. He was enjoying making me squirm. As much as it killed me to give him that satisfaction, I couldn't hide it: even without that banjo around, I was terrified of him.
He replied, “You see why I'm glad we ran into each other? This is something that's been on my mind for a bit. Coulda gotten it outta the way a whole lot sooner, if you hadn't been hiding from me.”
I knew better than to insist that I wasn't avoiding him, especially since I was already on dangerously thin ice. And we were still far enough away from town that if he were to decide to pull over right then and there, no one would notice what happened to me until it was too late.
Swallowing back my nervousness, I asked, “What happens now?”
“That whole nasty business two weeks ago didn't need to happen. All you had to do was find your boss, which you already wanted to do anyway. But instead, you decided to be a smartass. From now on, don't get smart with me and just do your job. That ain't asking for much, is it?”
Trying to get more saliva in my dry mouth to swallow again, I hurriedly nodded, “No, it's not. I’ll do better.”
“Glad we're understandin’ each other, pup.”
Despite the mechanic's relaxed demeanor, I still didn't feel safe in that truck. We were getting closer to town. My phone didn't stop vibrating. I just hoped that he was taking me to where he said we were going.
There is a bit of conflict in our records as to whether or not the Neighbors can lie. Some sources state that they can only speak the truth, others say that they are able to be just as dishonest as humans. Either way, it's best to operate under the assumption that their intentions are to manipulate.
The mechanic then cheerily asked, “Now that we got that unpleasantness out of the way, I gotta know, how'd you get so good with a gun? I've seen ol’ blue eyes shoot, and that man can't hit the broad side of a barn, so I know he ain't the one that taught ya.”
Military records are public. If he learned even something as miniscule as my last name, it wouldn't be hard to identify me or my mom from there. The Neighbors have been known to seek out the family members of those who've slighted them. Entire bloodlines have been destroyed in this manner. I've seen it happen before, but that's a story for another time.
I can't stress this enough: never let a Neighbor learn your name.
I struggled to find a balance between being vague enough to protect myself, but detailed enough to satisfy him, “I wanted to learn how to defend myself when I was younger, so I found some good teachers.”
I must've missed the mark because the mechanic shook his head and chuckled, “You're doing it again. That annoying indirect shit. Why don't you try giving me a real answer, for once?”
Feeling my heart flutter, I muttered, “Armed forces.”
That was still vague. I didn't specify which of the armed forces. He could deduce when I served based on my age, but even then, that was still thousands of soldiers to sort through. Hopefully, that would be enough to protect us.
“Thank you for your service.” He said, his tone slightly mocking.
He could taunt me as much as he wanted. At least he accepted that answer. I just hoped that I wouldn't face any repercussions for being too vague earlier.
More streetlights were appearing. We were in town, getting closer to Dillon's. Assuming that he had been telling the truth about our destination.
This was the longest drive of my life. If the truck hadn't been going so fast, I would've been tempted to tuck and roll. And again… if the mechanic is what I think he is, he'd probably love it if I gave him the opportunity to chase me.
I had to know for sure, though. Just so that I knew how to properly deal with him.
Doing my best to sound meek (not hard, in the moment), I tried to word my question carefully, “Are you a Wild Huntsman?”
Once again, not taking the risk of typing or saying the ‘S’ word, especially since I haven't heard from that one person that commented that term on my last post.
Speaking of… are you still alive and in one piece, u/Holiday-Space?
The mechanic laughed, “Too afraid to say it, huh? Come on, I dare you!”
“No thanks.”
One of you is bad enough. Don't need any of your hunting buddies to show up.
The mechanic shook his head at me as he snickered, “Coward.”
Up ahead was Dillon's old purple neon sign. To my relief, the mechanic pulled into the parking lot. With it being so late, there were only two vehicles there besides the mechanic's truck (not including my comatose G6.)
Anxious to get out of there, I reached for the handle only for the door to swing open before I could grab it. The mechanic was holding the door open for me. I hadn't even heard the driver's side open.
See why I didn't try to run from him?
It took a lot of effort to sound sincere as I said, “What a gentleman.”
He nodded towards Dillon's, “After you.”
Even though the idea of having to spend more quality time with the mechanic made me want to crawl out of my own skin, I felt marginally safer in public. He wouldn't risk exposing himself when he has a shop to run. At least, I didn't think he would.
The girl that seated us blushed the moment she saw him. For her sake, I hope he doesn't ever decide to take advantage of her crush.
I was so keyed up that food was the last thing on my mind. It took our poor, flustered waitress asking me twice before I could order only a glass of water.
After she walked away, the mechanic leaned forward, forearms resting on the table as he said in a low voice, “You know, you don't have to act like a hostage, right?”
Wasn't I though? He did take me there against my will, after all.
I whispered, “Why am I here? What else do you want?”
“I already told you. I want your company. We're just talking. That's it.”
If that was true, then why go through the effort of intimidating me? Granted, he didn't have to do much. My mind raced as I tried to remember anything helpful that the boss could've told me. I recalled then that Victor had said that the mechanic couldn't do anything to him while he was still alive. There must be some sort of condition that has to be met.
The waitress scurried over with the mechanic's coffee and my water, turning an even deeper shade of red when the mechanic flashed an admittedly charming smile at her. When her eyes met mine, she looked somewhat embarrassed. It occurred to me then that to someone on the outside of all of this atypical nonsense, it probably looked like I was his extremely anxious and somewhat disheveled date.
Christ. Just kill me.
Now that I had humiliation to add on top of all of the other negative emotions I was experiencing, I sipped at the metallic-tasting ice water, grateful to give my parched tongue some relief.
As the mechanic added at least ten sugar packets to his coffee, he said, “Try to relax a little, alright? If I'd wanted to hurt you, I coulda taken care of that out on the road.”
Was that supposed to be reassuring?
After a deep breath, trying to lessen my nerves, I uttered, “You… want a little coffee with your sugar?”
He snorted, “Judge me all you want. It's like a drinkable candy bar.”
I stared down at my paper placemat that doubled as a menu. The last thing I wanted was to meet his gaze. It was harder to avoid it when seated together in a small booth. In retrospect, I think that's what he was counting on.
He'd said something alarming about Victor that made me reflexively glance up in shock, aiming to just look at his chest again. I don't even remember what he'd said.
The phone ringing in the kitchen… Mom kneeling down to hug me, making my shoulder wet… My father glaring at me through bullet proof glass…
I shook my head, blinking. What? Fingertips on my chin, leaning in as if to kiss me. The mechanic's eyes are hazel.
Our garage spray painted ‘MURDERER’... A fist pummeling my nose in the school hallway… My black kitten Maisie trotting towards me… That recruiter’s shit eating grin… Sargent Wilcox screaming, ‘Come on, you useless fucks!’... Yelling for a medic as I held my hands over Oliver's bleeding stomach…
Wait… what happened? A warm, gloved hand over my eyes. My cheeks were wet. When did I start crying? As I came to my senses, I recognized Reyna’s perfume.
The mechanic's voice made me stiffen. It's tone was sultry, with a menacing edge to it, “And who might you be?”
“No one.” She replied hurriedly, her voice bearing a slight quiver. She then whispered to me, “Let's go.”
Even though I couldn't see him, I could tell the mechanic was smiling as he told us that he'd see us later.
Due to our height difference, (I'm 6'1 while Reyna meets the requirements for the Lollipop Guild) her hand uncovered my face naturally as I stood up to leave. I refused to look in the mechanic's general direction. We rushed out. I could tell he was watching to see which car we'd go into. Fortunately, Reyna had the foresight to park behind the building.
I should also mention that Reyna had disguised herself. She wore red heart-shaped sunglasses and a scarf over her head, like a starlet from the golden age of Hollywood. She even wore platforms to try to appear taller. While it wasn't very discreet, it would hopefully keep the mechanic from recognizing her. Once we got to her Monte Carlo and peeled out, she ripped the sunglasses off.
Glancing into the rearview mirror for the what felt like the eighth time as Dillon's faded away behind us, Reyna frantically asked, “What did he do to you? I walked in and… you were just…”
He'd flipped through my mind like the pages of a book. I told her as much. She asked me if I was okay. I wasn't sure.
“We’re going to my place.” She informed me, checking the mirror again. “Vic and I agreed it's probably safest since the mechanic knows the least about me. And I'd love to keep it that way.”
I nodded, still unreeling from having my memories dug into, “Sounds good.”
Further on down the road, she noticeably stiffened when she saw a pair of headlights come up behind us. I reminded her that he didn't know what her car looked like. She didn't speed up, keeping the car at the speed limit to not draw attention to ourselves.
The headlights got closer. Turns out, it was just some impatient idiot with a lifted Dodge Ram truck. We both let out groans of relief when the ugly, oversized vehicle passed us.
“I never thought I'd actually be glad to see a pavement princess.” Reyna commented with a nervous laugh.
She then suddenly asked, “Is the mechanic an incubus?”
Feeling the beginnings of a headache behind my left eye, I answered, “I wish. That'd be a lot simpler.”
“Ah, okay. Wonderful. Lovely. And uh, don't worry about answering everything I say. I'm just kinda talking because I don't know what else to do, so if you want to ignore me, feel free.”
I ended up calling Victor, putting him on loudspeaker so that Reyna could hear.
He answered on the first ring, “What happened? Are you alright?”
I caught him up on everything. After I was done, he sighed, “Okay. If you don't mind me asking, when he got into your head, what did he see?”
“My sperm donor getting arrested, me getting beaten up in middle school, bootcamp, and a buddy dying after an ambush in Afghanistan.”
“Was your name used in any of those memories?”
“No.”
“Okay. That's good at least. I'm sorry you were forced to relive all of that.”
I didn't know what to say. Thankfully, Victor saved me from having to respond by continuing, “I was afraid of this. When a Hunter takes an interest in someone, especially someone that they can't take right away, they start off with trying to break the target down. Using fear and intimidation to make the person feel isolated, sometimes even driving them insane. The mechanic is trying to start that process with you.”
What he was saying checked out with everything that I'd researched about The Hunt. They are said to be attracted to bereavement, often pursuing those who've experienced a great loss or heartbreak. They interpret it as weakness. The more vulnerable their victim is, the easier it is for The Hunt to devour them. That explained why the mechanic had gravitated towards some of the most traumatic experiences of my life.
I'd read somewhere that they find brave, good-natured people especially appetizing, even though they're the hardest for The Hunt to take. By being unable to cry out when I was transformed, I think I’d unintentionally convinced the mechanic that I was that type of person. And it made him hungry.
Victor bitterly informed us, “He's not going to chase you tonight. He has your gun and your car. He knows you’ll go to him.”
Slowly, the fear became replaced with anger. And spite. The mechanic could disarm me and use my worst moments against me, but I resolved then that I wouldn't let that fucker intimidate me. I wouldn't give him what he wanted.
If he wanted to think I was something special, I'd give him something fucking special.
“Vic, can you get her things so that she doesn't have to deal with him?” Reyna asked.
Before he could answer, I shook my head, “No. I don't want the mechanic to think that I'm afraid. I mean… I am but he doesn't need to know that.”
Victor warned, “By confronting him, you could make the hunt more thrilling for him. That might encourage him to be more aggressive towards you.”
I shrugged, “I'm screwed either way. At least this way, I'm screwed on my own terms.”
For the first time in a long time, Victor sounded like he might've been smiling. I haven't seen him smile since before he showed up with that bandana covering his slit throat. “We can start by finding a hagstone. That's easier said than done… but, something's telling me that there'll be one at Beaver Run. Check there.”
According to our records, draugr have a limited ability to see the future. Maybe that ‘strange feeling’ was actually a premonition. It certainly wouldn't hurt to check.
“Tomorrow morning, while the mechanic is at his shop, it's hagstone time.” I announced.
“I'll help.” Reyna offered, but then quickly added. “Unless you need me to cover for her tomorrow, Vic.”
“If you wouldn't mind doing a half-day, that'd be best.”
“Okay, can do!”
Victor wished us luck, then hung up.
Forgive me, but I'm going to go off on a brief tangent: Reyna has a pet skunk. Her name is Fireball. I'm mentioning this because that little skunk was basically free therapy after the night I'd had. And in all my days of having to dig the little guys out from under people's houses, I never really had a chance to appreciate how cute they are.
“She can't spray.” Reyna assured me when the little critter trotted over to sniff me. For those that aren't aware, skunks are typically quiet, but when they do vocalize, they sound like weed whackers.
Reyna stared down at Fireball, “What are you ‘meeping’ at?”
Fireball stomped at her, then jumped back. In the wild, they do this when they're trying to intimidate predators, so if you encounter a skunk and they do this, it's best to back off. However, in Fireball's case, they might also stomp when they're feeling sassy.
Reyna put her hands up in an annoyed gesture, “What's with the attitude?”
The skunk stomped again. Reyna huffed, “Jeez, you act like you're starving to death. You still have food in your bowl, idiot! Just because you can see a little bit of the bottom doesn’t mean it's empty!”
After we quadruple-checked to make sure that every entrance into Reyna’s apartment was properly salted, I settled down on the couch to get some sleep. At one point in the night, Fireball ended up curled up in my lap. That healed me.
The search for a hagstone wasn't going to be an easy one. They're stones with holes in the middle, normally found near bodies of water. In the old tales, these stones are valuable tools against the Neighbors for a variety of reasons, one of them being they can protect against curses and ward off evil. They also have been said to allow humans to see things that would normally be hidden to us when looking through the middle of the stone.
In other words, if our records were accurate, it was the key to leveling the playing field when it came to the mechanic.
I was in the river not long after the sun rose. Even though the water was cold this early in the summer, my spite kept me warm. I dug through the riverbed for hours until I came across a white stone with a large hole in its lumpy center.
Good to know that Victor's newfound draugr intuition was accurate.
I have the hagstone hanging on a chain around my neck, tucked under my shirt. I wasn't sure what effect the hagstone would have on the mechanic. At the very least, maybe I could see what he actually looked like.
Later that afternoon, Victor called to tell me that my car was done. Moment of truth. Even with the hagstone, I wasn't looking forward to being in close quarters with the mechanic again. But I reminded myself that I wasn't going to let that sadistic fuck frighten me into hiding again. No more avoiding him.
The mechanic greeted me, boyish grin in place, “Long time no see, pup!”
Feeling the weight of the hagstone as a comforting weight around my neck, I said, “I was told that my car is done. Think I left my shotgun in your truck, as well.”
“You did. You left in such a hurry. Probably had a lot on your mind, I imagine.”
Fuck you.
He set my keys on the counter, along with my shotgun, then leaned forward, resting his forearms on the counter next to then, “Come and get ‘em.”
I didn't know if the hagstone would keep him out of my head and I wasn't about to find out the hard way. He already knew more about me than I was comfortable with. I kept my eyes low.
As I approached the counter, he suddenly stepped back, eyes narrowed. Unfortunately, he didn't lose that grin. That was a shame; I was hoping to wipe it off of his face.
The mechanic let out a short laugh, “I see you came prepared.”
I sounded braver than I felt, “Of course I did. Now, how much for the repairs?”
His smile turned mysterious as he gave me my total. He didn't come closer to the counter while I stood by it; I had to back up for him to be able to run my card. After that was done, he set it on the counter next to my other belongings, leaning against the back of some old clunker he had lined up to work on.
As I hurried to get my things, the mechanic suddenly asked, “You can't tell me that you ain't curious.”
“Curious about what?”
“‘Bout what I really look like.” He smirked, folding his arms across his chest. “Go on. Take a peek.”
As tempting as it was, it wasn't hard to deduce his ulterior motive, “You just want to know where I have the stone hidden.”
He chuckled, “Yeah, that's true. You got me there. But wouldn't you like to know what you're really dealing with?”
“I already do. I don't need to see a monster to know it's there.”
Judging by the way his eyes slitted, he did not care for that comment. I knew I was probably going to regret that later. He already wanted to hunt me for sport. What did it matter if I clapped back at him just one time?
His voice lowered, “When your heart stops, puppydog, you better pray the devil finds you before I do. You'll crave Hell before I'm through with you.”
Hoping that he couldn't see my hands shaking, I grabbed my things and got out without another word. The G6 was working even better than it had before the deer incident.
After that interaction… I think I'm going to look for more hagstones. And I'm going to restock on salt shells.

Synopsis:
An engineer in another world—blending science and magic to achieve greatness in a world where skills and levels reign supreme.
—
Ethan was just a plain old engineer, but everything changed when he was reborn into a world of skills, levels, and magic. With his advanced knowledge far ahead of the time period he finds himself in, this new reincarnated life will be much different than his last, especially because he can construct, deconstruct, and reconstruct runes—something no one else can do.
But with royal politics, looming tax collectors, a mountain of debt, dungeon incursions, cults, and hostile fantasy races mixing together into a cocktail of bullshit that threatens to bury his dreams; Ethan must bridge the gap between steel and sorcery to grow stronger. — Runecrafting is slow burn. — What to Expect: - Weak to very strong progression - Hardcore wish fulfillment - A balance of action, kingdom building, and runecrafting. - MC will trigger an industrial revolution, revolutionize magic, modernize agriculture, communication, commerce, textile production, education, transportation, sanitation, weapons manufacturing, leisure & entertainment, and medicine.
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Chapter 06

• 1 -

There were fifteen wolves in total, their white fur stained with dried blood as well as ash from the forest itself as their maws opened to reveal sharp teeth. There were several gashes on their body and one of them seemed to be in a really bad state.
Roland had a tight grip on his sword. Roland spotted Ethan’s head poking out. “Lord Theodore, please hide inside!” Roland yelled. Ethan didn’t respond, however. Is it dumb that I want to fight?
The guards were surrounding the beasts and held their swords ready. However, the wolves weren’t attacking. Instead, they snarled and bared their fangs, but didn’t lunge.
They weren’t attacking. They were protecting. And that changed Ethan’s thoughts almost instantaneously. At the center, a female wolf, bigger than the rest, growled in pain. Blood trailed down her fur and a gash ran across her body. It was a wound that seemed to be bleeding a lot, but she kept it covered with her paw, snarling whenever anyone got near. Ethan stared from his carriage. The situation seemed to have taken a turn, but not a bad one, at least, not yet. The guards were ready to attack, but the wolves didn’t. And Ethan was certain that the guards would kill the creatures unless he ordered otherwise.
Ethan stepped outside. Roland and the rest of the guards were alert as they glanced at him.
“Wait,” Ethan said, his voice calm. “Don’t attack.”
The wolves immediately relaxed, albeit only slightly. Interesting. They understand me?
He stepped forward and walked to them. “Can you understand me?” He said.
“Lord Theodore!” Roland yelled, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him back. “Please step back.”
“Wait,” Ethan replied, holding up a hand, his eyes focused on the wolves. The guards didn’t move. The wolves snarled at him and bared their fangs, but didn’t make a move. “I’m not going to harm you.” Ethan raised his hand. “Calm down. You’re hurt, right? I can help you.”
The wolf’s snarl faltered. She looked at Ethan with a confused gaze, then growled again. Ethan, too, was confused now. Could she really understand him?
“You can understand me, right?” He said. “I need to know.”
“Lord Theodore, what is happening?” Roland asked.
“Shh. Be quiet, Roland. I’m trying to communicate,” Ethan replied, raising a finger, and silencing Roland.
The female wolf snarled, looking at the guards and baring her teeth. Then, her gaze landed on Ethan, and her snarl was gone.
“She can understand me. I think.”
“How?” Roland asked.
“That’s not important,” Ethan replied. [Myriad Tongue]... I didn’t know it stretched to animals—no, beasts as well...
Ethan stepped forward; his hand extended towards the beast. “I won’t hurt you.”
The wolves growled and bared their fangs at him. The female growled, then they stopped. Ethan neared, then knelt a couple feet from the biggest wolf. The gash on her chest stained her white fur, the blood flowing and dropping to the ground. The creature was panting.
“What happened?” Ethan asked.
The beast looked at him. Her eyes held strange intelligence. It’s a magic beast, obviously she’s intelligent.
“Can I look at your wound?”
She growled and bared her fangs, causing Roland to slash his sword at the ground in a line. The intention was clear, neither side could pass, or a confrontation was inevitable.
Ethan held up a hand. “Stop, Roland.”
“But Lord Theodore—”
“Stop.”
Roland didn’t respond.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” Ethan frowned. “If you want me to help, let me have a look.”
The wolf stared, her red eyes piercing, her ears folded and tail stiff.
The tension was thick, and everyone waited. Then, she removed her paw from her wound. The cut was deep, and the fur around the gash was charred. It seemed that it wasn’t a natural wound. Ethan could guess it was the result of magic. The cut’s too deep, and we don’t have a [Healer]...
Suddenly, the wolf spoke, “{I don’t want healing, human.}”
Ethan blinked, surprised. Her voice was deep, yet feminine. It wasn’t the type to scare children, but it wasn’t soft, either. More surprisingly, he could indeed understand her.
“What happened to you?” He asked, glancing at her, wondering how [Myriad Tongue] worked. He knew he was still speaking the common tongue of Nur—Leineh—and that the wolf was still growling, but he could understand that growl.
She looked at him, “{That is none of your concern.}” Then, she looked below and moved her muzzle to the ground, and moved something. In a few seconds, a small pup appeared from beneath.
Ethan widened his eyes, “A baby!”
“{You are to take care of him,}” she said—no, she ordered him.
“What?” Ethan said, taken aback.
“{You will take care of him},” she repeated.
Ethan was flabbergasted.
“{You’re touched by the light, and the light has guided me to you,}” she said, then growled. “{I trust the light. However, if anything happens to my Wynd, know that your death will not be painless.}” Saying so, she looked down at her pup, and nudged it forward.
Ethan was still flabbergasted.
The female wolf looked at him, her red eyes piercing, and the snarl in her voice gone, replaced with a soft tone, “{Please.}”
The pup was still far too young to know what was happening so it curiously tilted its head toward Ethan. Its red eyes stared into his, and it yapped.
“I...” Ethan blinked, about to deny.
The [Quest], Guardian of the Wild, has arrived.
“I...” He repeated, and then stopped to look at the [Quest].
~Guardian of the Wild (Uncommon)~
You have encountered a pack of magical wolves led by a gravely injured female. Through a surprising twist of fate, you understand their language through [Myriad Tongue] and learn of their plight. The female, gravely wounded by a magical attack, entrusts you with her newborn pup, Wynd. She believes you, touched by the “light” (the nature of which remains unclear), are the best hope for Wynd’s survival. Why and how, and many other questions, however, remain unclear.
Objective:
● Take care for the young wolf pup, Wynd. (Uncertain Duration)
Rewards:
● The eternal gratitude of a magical wolf pack. (Potential Ally)
● Unlocking the secrets of the “light” may grant unknown benefits. (Uncertain)
● Levels
● Skill Tokens
● A chance to get an invitation to [???]
Failure:
● Should Wynd come to harm, the wrath of these magical wolves will be swift and merciless.
● You may lose the trust of the pack, and of [???], potentially putting yourself and others at risk.
● You may lose the interest of the “light”
Would you like to accept the quest?
YES NO
So, this is what’s been coming since I arrived in this world? Are these wolves related to my arrival? Or whoever this “light” is? Why’re they injured in the first place. Does it have anything to do with that humanoid creature? I do recall Roland saying that the humanoid creature was fighting wolves. It seems likely, given these wolves’ injuries, but what happened after? Is that humanoid creature dead? If not, where did it go? Should I be worried? What if it attacks Holden?
His mind churning with multiple questions, Ethan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll take care of him.” He said, and mentally selected ‘YES’.
She stared at him for a second, then turned to the pup and licked his forehead. “{Thank you},” she said to Ethan. “{And now, I have to go.}”
Ethan’s lips parted, but she didn’t let him say it. Black tendrils of shadows enveloped her and the other wolves, then they all disappeared.
...
After Ethan entrusted the pup to Roland, who was also surprised and confused. Regardless, they all set back on their journey. The pup slept most of the way, curled up in Roland’s arm.
“What a strange encounter,” Ethan murmured.
He glanced at the wolf. It had a white coat and a black streak on his head. He was cute, though he still drooled a lot, and that was gross. However, it wasn’t hard to accept.
“Lord Theodore,” Roland said. “How were you able to have a conversation with the beasts?”
“I’m not sure,” he lied.
Roland looked at him. Ethan shrugged.

• 2 -

Back in Holden Town. The gates opened, and Ethan could see people move aside as they drove their carriages to the estate. They all looked at him with respect and bowed—more out of fear than respect, really. Theo hadn’t been a respectable fellow, but he’d certainly been one to be afraid of. This kind of reaction had taken Ethan off guard for the first time, but now, he didn’t quite care. When he entered his manor, he immediately wanted to head for the one thing he was craving—a bath.
Before that, however.
“Lord Theodore, what of the pup? Where should I put it?”
“The pup?” Ethan paused for a second, then walked and extended his arms out, “Give it to me.”
Roland was surprised but obliged and gave Ethan the young wolf, “If I may ask, why are we keeping the beast?”
Ethan made a thoughtful noise, his gaze focused on the baby wolf as the pup yelped at being given up to the stranger, but after a little while, he sniffed a little before settling in Ethan’s hold, his head finding itself a comfy. It was strange to think how quickly the creature had accepted his place there. Ethan chuckled a little, his voice becoming gentler than Roland had ever heard it as he took care to keep the wolf upright against himself.
“This is no ordinary pup.” His gaze shifted from the animal onto Roland. “That wolf, she could talk with me. I do not know how, but the fact is that she could.” Ethan gave Roland the lie he’d concocted. “She was intelligent, not a beast. And she entrusted her son to me.”
“A Beastkin?” Roland made a surprised noise. “On this part of the world?”
“Beats me,” Ethan said. “Regardless, she could talk. And I...” Ethan sighed. If he wanted to have a good life here, he needed someone he could trust in, and Roland had proved to be capable enough as well as trustworthy enough. Roland had taken care of Theo, even though the bastard was a worthless scum of a human being.
“Yes, my lord?” Roland asked.
“I got a [Quest].”
Roland’s eyes widened, his voice louder, “A [Quest]!?”
“Hush, be quiet, now, be quiet, Roland,” he said and patted the pup gently on his back, murmuring to soothe the waking animal. [Quests] were a rare phenomenon and the rewards were always worth the trouble, or so he’d gathered from Theo’s memories. He just hoped his decision wouldn’t come back to bite him in the future. “So, I will keep him, at least until she comes to claim him. Which she will.”
“My lord, you would require specialists... [Beast Trainers], I don’t believe we have many in town, only a few. Or else, a [Druid] perhaps? But finding one is not easy—”
“A [Beast Tamer] is fine. We don’t need much, just someone to take care of him.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Ethan spent the next hour in a bath.

• 3 -

The pungent smell of wood ash filled Ethan’s nostrils as he peered into the large cask. Lye, a strong alkali traditionally made from wood ash and crucial for soap-making, needed to be extracted from the ash. With a grunt, he grabbed a thick wooden paddle and plunged it into the gray mixture, stirring it vigorously. This was the beginning of the leaching process—a crucial first step in his soap-making endeavor, where lye is coaxed out of the ashes by boiling them in soft water and then allowing the water to seep through the ash.
Thus, this wasn’t just about mixing; it was about coaxing that exact lye out.
Across the room, Roland watched with a furrowed brow. “My lord,” he finally spoke, “what precisely are we engaged in here?”
Ethan straightened; wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. “Patience, Roland,” he chuckled. “This is the art of soap-making. We’re separating the good stuff—the lye—from the leftover ash, like sifting gold from sand.”
Roland’s expression remained dubious, his gaze lingering on the murky concoction in the cask. “Ah, I see.”
“Yeah, once we’ve extracted it properly, it will be the foundation for our very own soap. It’ll be my very first masterpiece—gentle on the skin, fragrant, and oh-so-satisfying to use. Blight-repellent properties would be a bonus, though that still depends on Jack. He hasn’t graced us with his findings yet.”
“Indeed, my lord,” Roland replied, a hint of worry creeping into his voice. “Master Jack has been... unresponsive lately. He insists we leave him to his work and promises to report back when he has something concrete.”
“I see.”
With the leaching process nearing completion, they left the cask to settle, its contents swirling like a slow, gray storm. The next step awaited.
“Did you manage to save the fat from the recent butchering?”
“Yes, my lord, I took the liberty of asking the cook to—”
“Excellent. No time for formalities, bring it here!”
Roland scurried away, returning moments later with a large, heavy wooden tub. Inside, a mound of white fat, glistening faintly. “My lord,” Roland said. “Got all the rendered beef fat you requested,” he said, holding up the tub. “But are you certain it’s for…” he trailed off, gesturing vaguely towards the tub.
“Absolutely, Roland,” Ethan replied with a smile. “The fat needs to be rendered first, which means melting it to remove impurities. Then, we can boil it to separate the tallow, the perfect white fat for soapmaking, from the glycerin, a byproduct with its own uses. I need the white, creamy layer that forms on top, and the clear liquid underneath.”
Roland appeared to be confused regarding the terms he used, so he spent the next few minutes explaining the boiling process to Roland.
...
The next day dawned, and the routine began anew. It needed to be repeated after all. The charade of noble life continued as usual, and as the day waned, Ethan returned, Roland in tow.
“This should suffice,” Ethan declared. “The impurities have settled at the cask’s bottom. Now, we only need to collect the lye water, combine it with fat, and voila—soap!” Noticing Roland’s confusion, he offered a brief scientific explanation. “The interaction creates saponification, a chemical reaction that transforms fat into a solid surfactant.”
Roland raised an eyebrow. “That’s it?”
“Precisely,” Ethan confirmed with a grin.
The following morning, Ethan followed his usual routine, attempting to maintain focus. Yet, his steps carried him back to their quarters with a scale, a bag of oatmeal, and a water jug in tow.
Soap-making time had arrived.
For a superior tallow soap, the fat and lye mixture needed a specific ratio—which took some experimentation—to the combined weight of tallow and glycerin. Ethan meticulously measured and combined the ingredients, allowing the mixture time to undergo saponification, gradually forming a solid bar of soap.
Once the reaction finished, he introduced the scentless oatmeal. Its purpose was threefold: to provide a gentle scrub, enhance the lather, and leave the skin feeling soft—pure luxury. Finally, a few drops of a floral scent, along with the vibrant red dye extracted from a flower’s petals, were incorporated. With a final stir, the mixture was poured into a cake pan lined with wax paper.
Given the limitations of their tools, Ethan had essentially performed a rudimentary form of alchemy to create this supposed pinnacle of soap. He had never really been much interested in learning soap-making, but he thanked his science teacher sincerely. Had it not been for her enthusiasm, Ethan wouldn’t have been able to make soap today.
A few hours later, Ethan admired the beautiful pink soap atop his hand.
“Finally,” he said with a smile.
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I just want to know if I’m in the minority here, but here is my opinion: I hate when a big patch drops, especially one like this. Why? Because it’s always so packed and overwhelms players who don’t treat this like a full-time job. But this time, it has gone over the top with some goofy shit.
You know that YouTube fanbase that keeps pushing creators to make new things 'out of the routine,' and then they start pumping out some goofy ideas? That’s how I feel. Everything is so memey, like they do things just to please the audience, no matter how stupid it is. You can’t silence the silencer, haha. I did chuckle, but come on, what the fuck?
We love this game, why do we have the need to change it so much? It becomes harder to balance, new players (are there any?) get intimidated. Less is more, Dota is already fucking hard!
For me, Dota is similar to chess, or at least it should be. New strategies come out, new players join, and it’s not because a new troop just dropped or because the new Queen can do some new shenanigans. And no one complains 'but it’s always the same game, need content,' they call it a classy classic. Guys, routine is good!
A new hero here, some new items there, a new non-groundbreaking mechanic, new skin there, and that’s it. I don’t need more than this. What do you guys think?

Hi everyone,
Been diagnosed with Ankylosing spondylitis 10 years ago and have experienced joint discomfort for about 15 years now. I'm 33 and am getting to a point where I'm just not sure if this is worth trying anymore.
Now I don't think I have it in me to commit self harm but I just don't see myself ever reaching a point of being pain free and happy. It feels like I'm always sad, depressed, anxious and in pain.
It's not just the illness. I also dont have much contact with my family as I was born into a religious household as a jehovahs witness. I've also never been really genetically gifted in anything. Since I was young, it would take me more time to understand information and more effort to barely compete with the average. I'm also short, small, and with ankylosing spondylitis, you'd imagine I'm probably not that strong. I do try to put in a lot of effort to at least feel physically good doing hot yoga, swim, weight lifting but all my effort feels lost when you get joint aches and your body weaken from it. I've also been having skin issues as well so even swim for me sometimes is difficult. Not to mention battling the constant fatigue which probably is from Ankylosing spondylitis. I also believe my fatigue is heightened from a bit of depression and anxiety as well. The lack of sleep as well.
I don't do well with women and on dating apps, my confidence gets even worse. I saw a big tall guy walk past me at the gym the other day and it hit me how much more powerful he is than me. I mean he could probably snap my already crippling neck in half. It's weird but I could see why women would want to be with a powerful tall guy like him than me.
As I get older, the thought of never finding that someone and having children also saddens me. I also don't know if I am healthy enough to take care of one as well at this point.
I'm nicknamed the hideous survivor amongst my small group of friends since I'm ugly and unskilled in every aspect but yet finding a way to survive.
I just don't see life worth continueing as I'm getting older and I guess I'm just at a point where if I were to rest, it may not be the worst thing. I just wanted to know if anyone else is struggling and can relate. Sorry if this sounds too depressing but I may be at the end game when it comes to trying.

Filming in SLOG
hey yall, i’m taking a trip very soon and my “project” was to film a video montage of my trip. I was hoping to film in SLOG on a Sony zv-e10 that i’m borrowing because I wanted to try my hand at color grading (specifically like how the content creators Gaku Lange and Havenotats have their videos)
The only problem is that I don’t have any experience shooting in SLOG. All tutorials I’ve watched have had contradictory information on what settings to use, and it has confused me even more.
So, I was wondering what recommendations do you guys have for filming in SLOG? Is there any combinations of settings that I can just set and forget while filming in SLOG for most conditions?
Thank you again and sorry if this post is very surface level, just trying to get some beginner info :)

Hey guys. So someone messaged me today saying they were a new creator and asking if I could give some input on some of the content they were considering posting. As I'm also new and have had some really amazing experiences with other creators helping me, I said yes of course. She sent me a few b/g vids and I gave her my feedback. I didn't look at her profile until after I saw them but noticed it was totally blank and looked like a fan account. I asked if her account was verified as a creator and she said no they were nervous and still hadnt made one. I'm not comfortable looking at any content that isnt verified, as I have no idea if it's actually them in the vids.
Should I report this?
Is my account going to be at risk for even engaging with it?
What should I do?
HALP! Thanks love you guys.

I’m into hip hop/rap(Trap, Horrorcore, Boombap, Memphis, sample, alternative, etc), rnb(Rick James the best rnb singer💯), Heavy Metal(Marlyn Manson, Slip Knot, NIN, Rage against the machine), and alternative music(Gorillaz, Blur, Arctic monkeys, 21 Pilots, Cage the elephant). My top 5 most listened to artist are Logic, Tyler the creator, Mac Miller, Kendrick Lamar, and $UICIDEBOY$. As much as I listen to music I make music too; I produce, rap, sing, design covers for them, and much more cool shit. I’m always down for suggestions of shit u guys wanna hear and/or want made customly to get released through my label. I am a fan of Quinton Tarantino movies and others. My top 5 movies are fight club, Menace II Society, The Matrix, Kill Bill Vol.2, and Juice. I love to FaceTime and hang out as I record songs or play any games; I am a deep person also. The top 5 games I’m always on are Plants vs. Zombies GW2, Mike Tyson’s punch out, Fortnite, Fallout 4, and NFS[2015]. I’m down to play games or anything and over all I’m a deep/chill person. I don’t fw disrespect of any sort if u dm me be respectful both ways. I am straight and single as well and located in Georgia so shout out if anyone round there. I do work so if u hit me up between 7am-2pm I most likely won’t answer till I’m home. I skate and I do read a shit ton, and ye Ik this sounds like sum nerdy shit but ay it’s me. Anyways if ur into any of that shit or anything round that hmu idc if ur a guy or a girl as long as u chill :). I have discord and snap.

No Labels. No Platforms.
There, I said it. We got the talking part out of the way.
Now what does this look like when applied?
Am I crazy? Is this a knee-jerk reaction from some guy that’s just had enough of trying to fit into whatever cookie-cutter bullshit is hot this week?
Possibly, but let me explain-
I was born in 1980. Let’s get that out of the way off top so you know what tone to read this diatribe in.
I was barely a walking, talking human by the time of Regan’s inauguration. This ushered in the era of preppy excess on one side of the spectrum and the crack epidemic on the other. Rarely did these worlds coincide but they definitely coexisted. Suburban kids were watching the ‘Corys’ (Haim & Feldman) hoping to be the coolest kid on their block with the freshest vehicle, courtesy of mom & dad, that would surely get them the girl. The rest of us were bringing paper food stamps to school to hit the corner store during class break. And the cats we looked up too weren’t named Cory and they definitely weren’t daytime TV or even USA Up All Night material.
And the music? I can’t explain how fresh it was. You had to be there. I’m not gonna gas you up like some of these cats and attempt to explain it well enough that you ‘get it’. You have to understand that back then, a million things that are now firmly planted and rooted in our culture hadn’t happened yet-
No Biggie. No Tupac.
Nothing even remotely resembling an Eminem.
No Rock Steady Crew. No Kid Capri. No Def Comedy Jam.
No Outkast. No DJ Screw. No Three Six Mafia.
No Dipset. No Rhymesayers. No WuTang. No NWA.
None of it.
Imagine for a second that all you want to do is be Bruce Lee. Or save up enough money for a skateboard or some other semblance of identity or individuality. Then you walk by the park and see some young cat, not too much older than you, moving like a fucking robot. Better than a robot. And these big ass house speakers were drug to the park in the back of someone’s Suzuki so that the dude in the neighborhood with the dopest record and break beat collection could come down and spin and receive accolades for doing so. Over time, those accolades started to reach way past the block in which they originated. Enter The DJ-
House party flyers were probably the first tangible collectable item that was Hip Hop related. After that it was the MixTape. In the beginning, no two MixTapes were the same. You may get a dubbed tape from your boy or snatch a copy from the bootleg tables on the corner if they had their business together like that. But, for the most part, these were put together by the end user of the product itself: The Consumer. Some business savvy DJs of that time realized quick that the biggest money having mufukas they knew in real life were the drug dealers in the neighborhood. They would pay certain DJs to customize a MixTape for them that featured the bangers of that week/month/year but also the DJ shouting out the dealer that paid for the tape. Fixated on notoriety, it wouldn’t take long for money motivated individuals to position themselves beside the artists, producers and DJs of the time and, in the absence of a label, become boutique indie labels in their own right. These illicit proceeds would do more to perpetuate Hip Hop in its infancy than any corporate dollar. But these influxes would call enough attention to the culture that before we knew it, everyone from McDonald’s to the Chicago Bears would look to this new phenomenon to stay relevant.
Fast forward to the 90’s and Hip Hop was fully infused and rejuvenated with the hustler spirit. Artists like Too Short and E-40 proved that real money could be made in Hip Hop with the farm-to-table approach. It made an artist say, ‘If I create a product that is custom-fitted to my consumer, who better than I to deliver that product?’. Cutting out the middle man, artists themselves paid for and oversaw the production process, organized album art and duplication and released the product directly the streets. Selling albums literally out of the trunks of their cars as well as fostering relationships with independent record store owners who also benefited from blocking the labels out. They themselves knowing full well what it means to be force-fed label-curated top tens and other pop bullshit.
Vinyl record collections, cassette tape collections, books full of Compact Disks and in some cases DVDs with music-related documentary content. These things slowly grew as we aged and found ourselves. Even to look around at all of the items we had procured gave us a sense of who we were. The room that housed our music was like a glimpse into our soul. A snapshot with a million words and stories and moments behind it.
Now we have our phone. That’s it.
See how the words just dropped all lonely out of the paragraph like that?
It’s a sad state of affairs.
But there is hope
Billboard (Really? After all that, his source is fucking Billboard?) has reported that the sales of vinyl records has increased for 17 straight years. 43.46 million vinyl albums were sold in 2022. That’s 43% of all album sales the year over. Social media and streaming services are slowly but surely losing their grip and once again being relegated to novelty convenience applications. The curtain has been pulled back to reveal that Jay-Z’s famous line ‘Men lie, women lie, numbers don’t’ has not aged well. Saweetie has been kind enough to serve as case-in-point. The ‘rapper’ who, at the time of this writing, has an Instagram following of 12.9 million was recently roasted in the press when she dropped an EP that only sold 2,000 copies.
What In The Actual F*ck?
It that doesn’t prove to you that it doesn’t matter, you’re a lost cause and my advice to you would be to never step foot in the entertainment industry. However, if you too are bothered by this correlation (or lack there of), please read on.
We have now come full circle. Movements that preach the need to cleanse the artistic mind of the preoccupation with social media are quickly gaining popularity. Reverting back to the era when guerrilla marketing was King. The concept of a street team blanketing a city with your stickers, posters and flyers and all of the supporters and connections made while doing so is making its way back into the fold. Word of mouth advertising will never be replaced, though social media has brought us close. That may be the why the current pendulum swing is so dramatic. People are simply sick and tired of scrolling to find the meaning of life. The fact that the term ’social media cleanse’ is a thing (and has been for some time) denotes that it is dangerously pervasive. With the recent popularity and ease-of-use offered by AI, one’s first instinct would be to say to themselves, ‘Wait, that means anyone can do it’. With the all-too obvious downside being: Anyone can do it. The day Canva dropped their Magic Write AI option for document edits, i ran across at least 30 videos in which the quintessential content creator was explaining to me how this would be a game-changer in a way we could never fathom and that now, more than ever, I need to start taking my content making seriously by letting computers do all the work for me. The same work they are doing for everyone else. Except, somehow it’s supposed to be different and unique. But that’s the part they leave out. How can I be unique and on some never-before-seen shit if I’m doing precisely what everyone else is doing? Another heartbreaker for the AI buffs? Google has already put in place AI detecting technology that will automatically initiate their own form of shadow-ban on all of your SEO if they find or suspect that AI has been used to create it. But don’t fret. When you wake up tomorrow, there will a million other content creators dropping videos instructing you on how to skirt AI detection software. Do you see where I’m going with this? Is your motivation to create a commodity that is appreciated by your core audience? Or have your career goals transitioned from that to a computer hacker that minors in internet marketing?
More than ever, people crave connection with an artist, regardless of the media. Audio, video or conceptual, they want YOU.
Many artists are adjusting their focus back to website presentation. With the ease in which an artist can create their own e-commerce website through companies like Squarespace, complete with comment sections, like counts and whatever bell or whistle is commonly used to satiate the viewer.
Point is, we can do it too. We can do it better.
An artist can release a project to their own site and utilize the ‘Proud To Pay’ option where the consumer can pay as much or as little as they’d like for the download. Merchandise or other gated content can be sold right along with it. You can literally build your support system 1 fan at a time. That connection will also endear much longer than the ones garnered my viral Tik Tok or Instagram Reels. That being said, we aren’t idiots. Social Media should still receive updates from those whose main focus is there website community. The website is headquarters. There should always be more content, options, action and opportunity on your website than what is offered on social. Social should be utilized for the sole purpose of drawing traffic to YOUR PLATFORM. Say it: I Am The Platform.
I’m not telling you to delete your Instagram, FaceBook or Tik Tok.
But you should delete them from your phone.
Tim Ferris wrote The 4-Hour Work Week in 2007. In it, he laid a strategy for being less busy and more productive. Interestingly enough, this book was written the year the first iPhone dropped. But already our society was looking for anything to get them away from the rat race. The desire to always be available. A slave to what was then your BlackBerry. The need to check and reply to emails within minutes of reception. MySpace was the only social media platform to speak of at the time and even then, folks took it too far. The book spoke about setting time aside weekly to check and reply to emails. Another to check and respond to social media. The bulk remaining for actual work and whatever interaction that work required. You can set aside as little as one day a week to share all the clips of your content, respond to comments and DM’s and interact with folks you regularly interact with. What you’ll find in doing so is that your hyper focus on social media was for naught. And no one missed you while you were gone. And all that time you used to spend scrolling can be spent creating content for your website and making your community as inviting and comfortable as possible. Through email and text lists, the integrations on your own website can forward content directly to everyone who gives a fuck immediately. Stop posting content to social media FIRST hoping that whatever platform you’re on is in a good enough mood to show it to 4% of the people who actually follow you in hopes of seeing it. Ask yourself what your goal is. Do you want 1 million supporters for a year? Or 10,000 for 20 years? If you can get those 10k to spend $10 a year, you’ll never work again. Are you listening?
This entire essay was designed using no AI. It was however concocted to persuade you. Just like everything else you’ll listen to or read today. The difference? I implore you to stop listening to the noise. Even if I myself become a distraction to you, It warms my heart to know you’ll never listen again. Go. Be the most amplified version of yourself and don’t stop until you’ve pissed a lot of people off. Only then will you have created anything worth fussing over in the first place. When that happens, the world outside of that computer in your pocket will open up in ways that will make you want to leave it there. Do not waste another second looking to the next man for direction or inspiration. Get YOU out first. Fortunately, I’m not going to push you towards any apps or sites that will simplify your process. That alone will simplify your process. You’re welcome.
Kream Soda

Hi, guys. I met an annoying problem and can't resolve it for a long time. Can't remember it was 1 or 2 years ago my Facebook had been hacked. The email, password and phone number were all changed. I can only find it with the nickname. So the situation now is that I can't access my account , can't find back it via email or phone number, what I can do is only I can search it by nickname to make sure it's still there. I tried to contact with the Facebook staff but failed. I really don't know how to solve this , hope anybody can help me , thanks a lot.

This is a YouTube ploy to monetize off of some of its black content creators like Rappers such as Drake and Athletes such as Kwame Brown who frequently violate YouTube's community guidelines for hate speech using the N-word. No matter how popular those guys are on YouTube, advertisers will not pay for ads on those types of videos even if a black YouTube content creator has 100k subs, viewership of videos 100k+, 3k likes 👍, but 1k of thumbs down 👎.
Remove the dislikes and you now have 100k subs, viewership 👀 of videos 100k+, 3k likes 👍 = paid advertisements on videos that severely violate YouTube's community guidelines.
YouTube terminated my account for writing in the comments language such as the N-word used in videos of its popular black content creators.