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[cryptobusiness1]

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Security Token Offering (STO) is one of the prominent fundraising concepts where budding entrepreneurs raise funds securely in the marketplace. At present, STO is trending in the market and most startups are creating security tokens for their businesses.  If you are among them and new to the STO development Concepts, then no worries This article is dedicated to you >>>> http://bit.ly/3EtpyQp

[furby-organist]

// Alright, throwing this out there before I sleep: now that I've done with my exam and I may have access to my laptop soon, I'd like to get back into the swing of things and write with more people! Like this post (or reply) if you want me to make a mental note to check out your blog / reach out to you about RPing!

Also, for reference, since this seems to be a Hot Fandom Topic: I consider myself neither proship nor anti. My rules page is pretty up-to-date with who I will/won't interact with.

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 15 all chapters

AUTHOR'S WARNINGS: N$FW, SEXUAL CONTENT, COPIOUS SWEARING

-You wake with a pounding head, and total uncertainty if your adventure the night before had all been a dream.

Did John actually tie you up with his belt? And did you beg like a hungry little kitten for his cock?

And he didn’t give it to you?

Jesus fucking Christ.

You know you’d sensed all along that there was something dark swimming beneath the surface in Mr. Wick, but you’re not quite sure this was what you expected.

You look down at the little purple bruise on the inside of your thigh, and you know it had all been real.

A hot flood of embarrassment fills you as you remember more from the night before. You are mortified, and frankly, a little scared. You’re not sure you can actually handle a man with tastes like Mr. Wick’s, and you also know that once you’re in his company again you won’t be able to think anything through, or frankly, deny him anything he wants.

He has this drug-like effect on you. You would like to blame the wine for the night before, but deep down, you know that mostly it was just hunger.

You could easily forget who you really are, caught up in the web of a man like John.

The first hint of morning light is peeking over the rooftops. You know that if you are going to make your escape, this is undoubtedly your best opportunity. You tie back on your shoes, preparing yourself for the worst walk of shame you’ve ever endured. Even with your new found flexibility, you are only able to get the zipper of your dress half up your back.

Motherfucker.

The morning concierge gives you a knowing look as you walk through the lobby, and you narrowly resist the urge to flip him off.

How ironic, that the day that you want to flee this beautiful city with your tail tucked between your legs, is the day you finally seem to get your bearings. You make your way back to your hostel, taking off your platforms and carrying them half way. When an early morning wanderer tries to hit on you, you finally snap, yelling at him in a mixture of English, Spanish, and broken Italian, so furious that he’s actually the one who flees. You catch the word pazza, which you think means crazy.

He has no idea.

When you get back to the hostel, hallelujah if the fucking door isn’t unlocked this fine morning. How novel.

Your beautiful dress is wrinkled from sleeping in it. You hang it up anyway, and hope no one steals it. You pound two Aleve from your toiletry bag with some stale water, and think a hot shower might fix some of your ills.

Too bad the water heater is only set to tepid. You wash away the grime, but not your anxieties.

You go to breakfast, completely stuck in your own head, when you hear, “Y/n?”

You look up to see Javi sitting at one of the tables with a cornetto and a cup of the weak coffee the hostel provides for free.

You offer him a tired smile and sit down across from him.

“Are you alright?” he asks, and it’s a little touching that he knows you so well after only a short time in his company.

“I’m fine,” you lie. “I had a…weird night.”

That’s when Kelsey, the Australian girl who helped you with your zipper the night before, saunters up with a shit eating grin. “There she is. Noticed you didn’t come home last night. How was your date?”

“It was…something,” you answer with what you know isn’t a convincing smile. “I’m tired,” you try to cover.

Javi is still looking at you, like he doesn’t believe any of what you’re saying.

Knowing you will not be able to process any of what just happened to you in the boisterous bustle of the backpacker hostel, you eat a quick bite and rise. “Think I’m going for a walk,” you say.

“I’ll join you,” offers Javi, and you can’t figure out how to say no without hurting his feelings.

You walk out the front door together, chatting about something silly. He manages to make you laugh, until you look across the street. Your mirth dies like a bird struck with a stone.

John is there, leaning against the building like a tall dark omen, and he does not look happy. He stalks over to you, giving Javi a forbidding look before turning to you.

“You shouldn’t have run off like that. I was worried.” There is something chilling in his tone. It reminds you a bit of the way he’d scolded Brian that one day, but times ten. Somehow, his teeth seem sharper in this tense moment in the buttery Venice sunlight. 

 “I’m a big girl, John.”

John glares at Javi again, but the younger man stubbornly stays at your side, not taking the hint. “We need to talk,” says John, taking your elbow.

“You don’t have to go with him,” says Javi with a frown, grasping your other arm. You feel like you’re stuck between two dogs with a bone, and it’s too much.

“Both of you, let go of me,” you snap.

Miraculously, this does the trick, though goddamn if there isn’t something like murder glinting in John’s eyes as he does it.

If you weren’t in public on a crowded street, you have a feeling it wouldn’t have worked at all.

“I am going for a walk. Alone. Thank you, Javi, you’re very sweet. John, should I choose to talk to you, I know where you’re staying.”

You turn on your heel, and flee down the street.  

[resident-idiot-simp]

Inspired by this

Ft: @steriotypicaloutlaw & @existentialgaybirdnerd

I like to imagine Simon just randomly shows up places to do things for fun since he's legally dead. A random marathon here. A random convention there. Maybe there's a thread on 4chan or something wondering who the hell this guy is

Bird- "I swear I saw this guy before, he won (extremely specific race)" and there's a whole board about him

He just shows up around the world randomly and does incredible feats and then disappears again

Bird- "This guy shows up, kicks everyone ass at ANYTHING, then disappears without a trace. He's gotta be a superhero of SOME SORT"

Someone catches him in the wild one time holding the hand of this dude with a mohawk.

StO- Imagine Gaz having followed said board, also never saw Ghost without the mask or balaclava, and then he sees him there and he's just like, "I get to see him live!" And then Price reacts the way he does and Gaz is just like, "Wait! I know mystery Batman guy?!?"

Bird- "Mystery Batman guy is my SUPERIOR OFFICER? "

But they can trace Soap they know who this guy is. Imagine like a million people from 4chan just dog pile him in every social media platform wondering who the hell the man is. Soap knows about this I also bet you money ghost haunts the thread he knows everything he does this stuff on purpose at this rate.

And he made soap promise never to say a word. So soap gas lights like he's never gaslit before. I don't know who you're talking about that is not me you're delusional. 'It is you though'. No I was never there with a person ever in my life.

Bird- "Idk who tf you think that is, but I'm way more handsome than that"

Of course they can't fool Gaz but they do recruit him into the game. Laswell also knows about this

Bird- Laswell had been on the board since it started lol

At first it was just to make sure his identity didn't get leaked and now it's just for fun

Bird- She gives them vague hints in the wrong direction, photo shopping specific events that didn't happen to make it seem like he gets out more than he does.

Bro one time the catch Ghost in Cancun just surfing. No one knows where he went after they tried to follow It didn't work.

Bird- This man has fans all around the world but they can never get a picture of him without his permission.

What really gets people is he can be found across the world in very short periods of time. People assume he must be like one of those hidden billionaires.

Bird- That's why he's Batman to them

One time they got a picture of him super injured though and now they are convinced he's a superhero

Bird- There's a whole folder of circumstantial evidence of him being hurt and everyone going "evidence he's a superhero"

He is most often found is not in ridiculous events in Scotland and that is more evidence that he's connected to John MacTavish even though MacTavish denies everything. People are unsure if MacTavish is like his sidekick or butler or secret boyfriend/husband.

Ghost convinces him to do weird events as well and dominate them just to confuse the forum.

Bird- They're both superheros in their own right just a few months later according to the forum

One time the are spotted together at a log throwing competition. Then MacTavish at an art exhibit (Ghost is barely visible in the background). Next week in Cuba doing an eating competition.

Three days later San Diego Comic-Con. No one understands anything that's going on.

Bird- Ghost and Soap have a fun time reading through all the shit. They're in full cosplay too, they're only recognized because of Soap's Instagram story the day after and then everyone explodes because they SAW them but didn't recognize them until them. Ghost as scream and Soap as Jason.

Imagine one time they just show up on TV or the news in the background

Bird- There's a parade going on in the background and they show up as performers or part of the audience. The news reporters don't catch them as they wave enthusiastically to the camera.

They come to the conclusion that they know about the forums and then it becomes trying to dig out the rat.

Bird- They try to sus out the account that could be one of them, little do they know Ghost is one of the longest running ones there so his account isn't suspected at all times.

I imagine a random selfie gets uploaded to the forum as well.

Bird- He posts a selfie from a "found" social media that just HAPPENS to be "deleted" before anyone else can access it.

The people on the forum are extremely happy though that this random probably superhero is playing along.

He shows up in the Winter Olympics next. And he crushes the biathlon by a scary margin. After he gets the gold he proposes to Soap

Soap's bio gets updated to John MacTavish Riley. Soap continues to gaslight. That has always been my full name YOU'RE all delusional.

I imagine they only get their answers possibly after they all retire

Bird- Simon gets unkilled by law and is allowed to retire with Soap. They make a video explaining how they were fucking with people for entertainment and post it to the forum and everyone loses it lol.

[valentiyne]

𝗋𝖾𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗓𝗏𝗈𝗎𝗌 ☆ 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗎𝗆 𝗁𝗈𝗈𝖽

Calum Hood x Fem!reader

Summary: You can’t resist his pull, and keep coming back to him no matter what. PART TWO HERE

Warnings: Mild cursing, Infidelity, mentions of explicit content.

Word count: 1.2k (not 100% proofread)

Copyright © 2023 Valentiyne. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format. Was previously @/Talkfastromancee

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻

"I thought we agreed not to call before 2AM", I whisper into the phone, glancing behind me to see Luke's sleeping figure. His curly hair was pushed back, his lips parted as little beads of drool slip out. His arms lazily wrapped around Petunia as she snored just as loud as him.

"I need to see you, Y/n", his voice is hoarse, almost filled to the brim with desperation.

I bite my lip in response, looking over my shoulder once more before tightening the robe around my figure and slipping out of the bedroom.

"Calum, we both agreed we wouldn't do this anymore....".

When the familiar phone number popped up on my screen, it gave me a bittersweet feeling at the bottom of my stomach. I didn't want to answer, god forbid it- but the second I heard my phone vibrating on my nightstand, I snatched it so quickly that it almost woke up Luke.

I sat cross legged on the couch, the same couch Luke had picked out excitedly when we moved in together all those years ago.

The same couch his best friend and I first began our affair on.

"I need you, Y/n. Please",

I could hear his deep breaths through the phone, and I could imagine him pacing around his room with his hand pulling at his curls- like I do. He knew better than I, that what we had done- what we were doing was wrong.

It started when Luke began working late nights at the studio during the release of his first album. Hours turned to days before altogether, I'd only see him whenever he came home early in the morning to grab extra clothes or food. Of course I never suspected him of being unfaithful, he was just passionate about his job. Calum had come over to keep me some company with a bottle of tequila. One thing led to another, the empty bottle now knocked over on the floor- along with our clothes.

We promised to never tell a soul, we were both drunk and didn't know what we were doing. At least that's what we told ourselves ten times after that too.

"I can't, I'm sorry...", I bite my lip and look at the wall of framed photographs on display. Numerous ones of the boys and I smiling ear to ear, almost taunting me like they all knew our secret. I peeled my eyes away and cleared my throat to speak,

"Does he know you call me when he sleeps?", Calum beats me to the chase in a monotone voice, sending chills down my spine.

"Calum sto-"

"Does he know the pictures that you keep?" He keeps going, not bothering to stop.

"I said stop, please", I'm practically begging now. Tears spilling from my eyes and rolling down to my chin. I wasn't sure if I was crying because of the guilt or because he was right- and I wanted him as bad right now as he wanted me.

Luke was growing suspicious, at least he never said anything for me to assume so. But I knew my boyfriend, the way his face would fall when he noticed Calum calling at all hours of the night or how I'd always be the topic of conversation at the studio. He wanted to believe that it was nothing but a mere friendship between his two favorite people, but it was deeper than he could even imagine.

"I'll be waiting, wear the red one", The phone disconnects and I'm left with the lock screen of Luke and I smiling like idiots looking back at me. I love Luke, I really do. We'd been together before their band even started up, standing by his side and being his number one supporter across the world. I stood by him through every chapter of his life, even through the cheating rumors and controversies. I loved Luke.

I bite my lip, looking at the time displayed on the phone screen- reading 1:57AM. I shouldn't go, I know it's wrong and unfaithful to my amazing boyfriend who laid asleep upstairs. Calum knew the hold Luke had on me, but the grip Calum had was stronger. The way our hugs would last too long, the way he'd ask me to step outside with him alone at parties- all of it. After a few minutes of contemplating, I finally tore myself up from the couch and crept back into the bedroom. Luke was now on his left side, holding petunia closer to him- probably deep down hoping it was me.

I sigh to myself as I slid the robe off my body, revealing the red lingerie that I was already wearing. I went to sleep in it, subconsciously hoping I'd receive his call. Stepping over it, I walk towards my dresser and dig around the bottom of it for the familiar texture.

Calum's hoodie reaches my grasp and I tug the oversized green material out, examining the embroidery on it before slipping it over my head. It reached down on my figure right before my knees, the smell of his overpriced cologne filled my nose causing my heart rate to increase drastically.

Empathy, Empathy. Empathy.

It was the only pair of his clothing he let me keep- begged me to keep, almost taunting me like the photographs on the walls. Calum loved the thrill of the chance that Luke comes across it in the bottom of my drawer, stashed away like our secret. He loved the way I squirmed upon his gaze in a room full of people, even more if I was in Luke arms. I rid myself of my tormenting thoughts before shoving my phone in the front pocket and bending down to put on a pair of Luke's basketball shorts that he took off before bed. I gave him one more glance, frowning slightly to myself before tiptoeing to the bedroom door.

I slip back out of the bedroom and stand frozen at the base of the stairs, looking down at my feet for a moment. I shouldn't be doing this, it's not fair to Luke. Each step down the stairs, I could hear his laugh in my head. Going over the thoughts in my head again and again, I realized I was already at the front door.

I couldn't bring myself to open the door just yet. Slipping my phone out from my pocket, I anxiously check the time once more.

2:07AM

A text from Calum pops up almost immediately, making my hands start to shake.

'You're Late'

'B there in 10' I type back quickly. He reads it almost immediately, the tiny bubbles popping up as I stare absentmindedly at the screen.

'Make it 5'

I grasp the door handle, fumbling with my phone with one hand before shoving it back in my pocket and cracking the door open. The November air slips through and my jaw begins trembling as I step out onto the patio.

"Y/n? Where are you going?"

[carrotcouple]

“We found him!”

Jiang Cheng pressed his lips together to not cry out in pain as he was pushed roughly to the ground. The holes in his trousers made the stone cut harshly into his knees. He tried to raised himself up on his hands but a Wen soldier kicked his head and down he went again, stars in his vision. He was scared. He was angry. Had Wei Wuxian gotten away alright?

If he had then thank God.

“Oh?”

Wen Chao’s voice.

Jiang Cheng grit his teeth, tears stinging his eyes and anger boiling under his skin.

“What happened to the other one?”

“We couldn’t find the other one, only him.”

“Well, this one is good enough. He is just as guilty of his shixiong’s crime,” Wen Chao snickered.

Bastard. The one with crimes was him, how dare he pretend that Jiang Cheng’s family and Sect had committed sins?

“Oi, Jiang Cheng,” Wen Chao’s boot settled down on top of his head, pushing his face into the blood stained stone under him. Jiang Cheng growled. “Where’s your shixiong?”

“Fuck you,” Jiang Cheng snarls.

Wen Chao raises his foot and then slams it down. Jiang Cheng feels like he hears his nose crack. Warm blood fills his mouth. It hurts, he’s scared, he’s furious. He wants to grind Wen Chao to dust and feed his ashes to maggots.

“Listen to this dog bark!” Wen Chao cackles.

Wei Ying please be safe.

“Someone get him up, he’ll be a good exam-” Wen Chao removes his foot, sounding dismissive and uninterested. Jiang Cheng lunges forward, leaping up and smashing his knee into Wen Chao’s face. If he’s going to die he might as well die fighting like his mother did. He’s the son of the Violet Spider! Wen Chao shrieks, stumbling backwards, hands going up to his nose which is now bleeding like Jiang Cheng’s. Jiang Cheng aims his fist towards Wen Chao’s throat.

“Wen Zhuliu!” a shrill female voice screeches.

Molten fire collides into Jiang Cheng’s shoulder and he hits the ground. He rolls to the side, attempting to shoot back up to his feet, but then he’s kicked in the side. He curls up momentarily, but that’s all that’s needed. Blows rain down on him. He grunts in pain and then bites down on his lips, desperate not to give them the satisfaction of crying out.

He’s in so much pain.

It hurts.

A-Niang.

“Take him inside! I’ll make him scream!” he hears Wen Chao shout.

He’d rather die than do something Wen Chao wants of him. Someone grabs him by the hair and pulls him up, dragging him backward. He whimpers, scrambling furiously, trying to get away. He grabs at the hands in his hair, scratching at it to get free. He scratches at arm guards. They continue to drag him, hair coming out of his scalp and then he’s thrown onto a slightly elevated platform of stone.

Before he can orient himself, he’s being pulled to his feet and his hands are being chained to hold him up. The top of his robes are pulled away and his eyes widen.

“What are yo-”

Wen Chao is cackling in front of him, still bleeding from his nose, an ugly purple bruise on his face. He’s holding a discipline whip. One of Yunmeng Jiang’s discipline whips. Disgust, fury and fear wells up inside of Jiang Cheng. The audacity of the man to hold something only a Jiang elder is allowed to hold. But he is also horrified. He knows what Wen Chao is going to do.

Jiang Cheng is the heir of Yunmeng Jiang. A model student. To be hit by the discipline whip is the greatest shame.

Wen Chao raises the whip.

“Wait! Sto-” Jiang Cheng cries out.

Ice and fire across his chest.

A wail bursts from his lips. He kicks his legs out, arms yanking at the chains, desperate to curl up. Tears streak down his cheeks as agonized screams leave his mouth. He can feel nothing, only flames on his chest, burning a path across his skin. Blood seeps into his brown-gray robes. There is blood dripping down his wrists from how hard he is trying to pull his hands free.

Distantly he hears laughter.

A hand grabs his chin and he’s forced to look at Wen Chao’s face through his tears.

“Let’s hear you apologize for your actions, dog,” Wen Chao says.

“I...hope you rot in hell…” Jiang Cheng grits out.

He is his mother’s son. He will not die begging. He will not beg for a life that he has given up to save one of his loved ones. His sacrifice has been made. There is no point to-

Wen Chao strikes him across the face.

“Wen Zhuliu, teach him what it’s like when people don’t revere me,” Wen Chao spits out.

Jiang Cheng blinks furiously, trying to clear his head. His chest hurts so much. He slowly looks up and sees Wen Zhuliu standing over him.

A-Niang, A-Die…

Wen Zhuliu’s arm lights up with spiritual energy and then before Jiang Cheng can even flinch or close his eyes, it makes contact with his stomach.

Silence.

Jiang Cheng hears something like a deranged wail and then sobbing and it takes him a moment to realize it’s him. His body is cold, like Wen Zhuliu has carved out his heart while he is still alive. An integral part of him has been taken from him. He feels violated and robbed. He wheezes for breath, unable to process what’s going on around him, crying hysterically.

He’s truly lost the only thing that had given him value.

He doesn’t hear Wen Chao and then Wen soldiers laughing at him. He doesn’t feel Wen Zhuliu undo his bonds. He falls into a heap on the floor.

Without his core there is nothing to him.

He’s as good as dead now.

I hope...Wei Ying is safe.

[dragonstar2568]

I like to imagine roman and Virgil are the same height…. Till Virgil takes off his plat form boots than he drops to the hight of Romans shoulder, Roman’s just confused as fuck.

———————————————————————

(Roman and Virgil walking in from the rain)

Virgil : fuck, it’s raining out there.

Roman : (eye roll) (taking off his wet jacket) Of course it’s raining we just came In from it, you knock off sally wanna be.

Virgil: (taking of his wet shoes) I was being sarcastic dumbass. Wait huh, why am I sally ??? It would make more sen—

Roman : (tuned Virgil out)…. (staring)

Virgil :… I mean I wear dark colors so it would—(noticed Roman staring) uhhh??? Princey?

Roman : (still staring) w-w-what happened?????

Virgil : (extremely confused) what ??? What do you mean ?(starting to panic) Is everything ok?!?! I’m I ok?!?! I mean, I feel ok but what if I’m not?!?!??

Roman:…your so short ???

Virgil : (pausing mid panic) w-what?

Roman : your height !! It shrunk.?

Virgil : what are you talking about?

Virgil : (remembered Princey never saw him without his platforms on) ??? That’s it??? you scared me asshole !!!

Roman : (blushing) well I’m sorryJD. But some of us are used to people being normal height !!!

Virgil : what!! I’m normal height your just freakishly tall !!!!

Roman : first of all I’m gonna ignore that freak comment. And secondly you now only come up to my shoulder!!!!!

Virgil: ugggggggh, (walking back to his room) whatever, you wanna be my little pony store.

Roman : (quickly following him) Ok. that one didn’t even make sense!!!!! If anyone is a my little pony sto—

———————————————————————

(I got carried away… sorry 😂)

[rpgsandbox]

25 Volcanic City Adventure Seeds

by Robb at readytorole.com

Below the city, magically protected boats cast fireproof nets into the lava to try and catch some of the small creatures that dwell within. Just yesterday a boat capsized dumping the crew into the lava while those on another vessel claimed they saw a large form rise out of the lava and push the boat over.

The magic that keeps the city habitable has been slowly wearing down over time and the citizens are beginning to suffer from the extreme heat. The city is desperately seeking adventurers need to go to plane of fire and harvest some phoenix essence to restore it.

Within the city is a blacksmith renowned for his magmaforged armor using a secret method. In his old age, he has begun a contest to find a suitable apprentice to teach his methods to.

Small fire elementals keep appearing and causing mischief in the city, from burning food to scorching graffiti into the rocks. These have begun getting more serious with people suffering burns and other harm but the fire elementals disappear back into the lava before they can be reprimanded.

The lava levels in the volcano have been lowering steadily over the past few months and some have been afraid that the goddess of fire is upset. The lava has gotten so low that the entrance to a mysterious cave below the lava is now visible.

The chief export of the city, obsidian, has been booming lately as more uses for it have been found. Ogre thugs outside city who also want it are now blocking trade routes unless they get to buy it discounted and before anyone else.

Due to the magic inherent to the volcano, a mage college specializing in teaching pyromancy has opened. Many aspiring spellcasters have come from all over, including some brutish types who are stirring up trouble with the natives.

The three large chains that hold the main platform of the city up and stable are starting to show age and need some repairs. The problem is that if even a single chain is removed to be fixed the city will swing wildly and dump the people into the lava.

The land outside of the volcanic city has been growing greener with time, and this actually has the druids of the magma upset. They are at odds with the other druids who are ushering in this growth and are planning on doing something drastic.

Miners underneath the city accidentally sprung a leak into the lava that is quickly filling the tunnels. It must be rerouted to prevent further damages to the mine, but the only two places it can go are to the forests outside the city or to a grouping of small settlements at the base of the volcano.

Natural and manufactured hot springs have become a go to destination for travelers who are seeking to relieve some stress. Some of those who indulged have begun noticing some side effects, from suddenly being able to cast firebolts to getting hypothermia in anything but the hottest of places.

The clerics of the city maintain a magical lock on a portal to hell that would otherwise let in all sorts of demons and devils. They’ve now caught three magical rogues attempting to break in and undo the lock.

A week ago the lava in the city began slowly rotating underneath the city. Now, it is a whirlpool of flame and sounds of otherworldly screaming can be heard at all hours throughout the city, unsettling the citizens.

A rare fruit that only grows inside volcanoes and within the city is facing a shortage. Its main property of giving those who eat it temporary resistance to fire is a hot commodity as two warring nations vie for the supply to protect from flaming arrows and boulders employed by both sides.

One of the noble families, the Firebloods, have a ritual to prove their bloodline by stepping into lava unharmed. The matriarch was challenged by her daughter to be an imposter in her mother’s place and reluctantly took the challenge, dying upon taking the challenge. Now the main question is, where is the real matriarch?

As a means of protection, the treasury of the city is stored in a lava-proof vault that is magically submerged and hidden in the depths of the volcano. Upon retrieving it to deposit some money, it is discovered that it has been cleaned out entirely and all the of mages used to retrieve it have alibis.

The volcano used to be surrounded by forests, but slowly over time the magic from the city inside the volcano destroyed them. Now a few treants known as the Barkcharred, tainted by the fire magic, roam the forest remains swearing vengeance on all who they come across.

Days after an imprisoned necromancer swore revenge on the city, zombies filled with lava began a slow ascent up the walls of the volcano, spewing the molten rock at the guards who have tried to stop them. It is only a matter of hours before they reach the city.

A gnomish tinkerer has debuted their newest invention: a crossbow-like vessel that spews a spray of lava out of a nozzle. The city’s armory has already placed a large order for these lavaspewers, but the design is still in a dangerous prototype stage likely to blow up.

An embassy for the elementals of the fire plane resides within the city as a place for them to meet with mortals. A heated argument has ensued over the placement of a direct portal within the city with those in the city fearful of what horrors could step through.

The city woke up to find a layer of ice forming over the lava as it darkens and cools down. The mages are frantically trying to find cause and cure for this change, especially as many in the volcano are also becoming ill as a result.

A lava mill transfers lava down a shaft to a pool where it is sold to other cities for moats and other uses. Recently someone has been buying much of it anonymously and reports of lava attacks on small towns has caused the sell of lava to cease until the attacks stop.

Gems known as firestones grow around lava and create a powder that can be used in potions to become immune to flames. The stores of powder are depleting and the seeds that grow into the gems must be harvested from the closed down depth of the mines under the volcano.

The top of the volcano has been sealed for safety after wyverns have been seen attempting to nest there. Now they swoop down at the entrance, ridden by bugbears who demand they reopen the top and allow them to live there or they’ll attack the city.

After days of rumbling, a gargantuan skeletal dragon has climbed out of the lava, breathing fire and speaking in the dragon tongue of taking over the world. He is immediately confused by both the fire resistance that protects the city that renders his breath harmless as well as his inability to fit around the city to get out.

[ariesgamesandminis]

Big restock for BattleTech Miniatures is in from Iron Wind Metals!

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[cryptobusiness1]

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[the-lone-writer94]

So Into You (Part 1)

Rex Brown x Female Reader

Summary: Set in 2011, you (reader) have just moved back to your hometown, it's depressing and you can't wait to get out again... but a mystery man enters the scene and leaves you captivated.

Age rating: 13+

Word count: 2,902

The stench of beer infused with sweat hung in the air, as my nose twitched. Meanwhile, the speakers that seemed to only blast Lynyrd Skynyrd on repeat were drained out by the sounds of cheering and the clinking sounds of the pool table ball. 

The rustic wooden panels surrounded the bar, with framed photographs of aerial shots of the bar dating all the way back to the 1930s, with a cluster of round wooden tables and chairs scattered across the place, then a row of red vinyl booths lined against the walls. It was definite that the Lone Ranger Bar & Grill hadn’t had a makeover since the 1980s. 

The bar was sat in a snug spot all the way down on Little Road, just nearby County Park reserve, secluded completely by the wilderness.

It was a typical night at The Lone Ranger Bar & Grill, and I was dying to get the hell out. 

“I can’t believe I’m working at The Lone fucking Ranger bar.” I muttered beneath my breath, as I slumped down on the counter. It was then that I immediately regretted it, as I felt the stickiness of the counter. 

Just then, my friend, Violet, joined me. “Quit, your whining,” she said, as she set the tray down. “These assholes tip well though.” She added, as she drew out a pile of crumbled cash from her apron, then set it down, as she split the pile. “These are from that guy with the receding hairline and shirt tucked into his sweatpants.”

I lifted my head as my gaze waved over towards where Violet had gestured to. The guy in the sweatpants lifted his glass in the air and winked. I averted my stare and pulled a face. “God, that guy gives me the creeps.” 

Violet shrugged. “He’s harmless, but I call him Captain Sweatpants, and he’s a regular.” 

My fingers gripped down onto the cash as I unfolded it. “Wow, three dollars. This will hold me over until next week.” I said sarcastically, as I slipped the cash into my apron. 

Violet’s eyes narrowed. “What’s with you?” 

I shook my head. “Nothing… sorry, it’s just being back here- you know.” 

“I get it… you got out,” she sighed, and then added, “and now you’re back.” 

“New York wasn’t easy.” I said. 

“And here?” 

“Still not easy,” I commented, “doesn’t it bother you that we used to steal from this place when we were in high school.”

“Not really,” Violet shrugged, and added, “come on, at least you have a job here. Cause in this town, the only jobs we can get is either standing behind the counter serving idiots beer, or dancing on the counter. So, the choice is yours.” 

“It’s a little degrading, that’s all the jobs we can get.” 

Violet waved her hands in the air. “Oh, big talk from the graduate of NYU.” She teased. 

“Shut up,” I teased as I playfully chucked a cocktail napkin at her. 

“Girls, I don’t pay you to stand around and chat.” A low voice bellowed, as Violet and I snapped our heads over to our boss, Sam. A mid forties man who always wore a plaid shirt and jeans, paired with heavy duty black boots, as the ground beneath him thumped with each step he took. 

“Oh come on Sammy,” Violet teased, as she leaned against the counter, as she twirled on the ends of her wavy brunette hair, “we were only taking a short break.” 

My eyes narrowed as I watched Violet try to flirt her way out of every situation. 

Sam cleared his throat and stepped back. “Alright, stop it,” he said uncomfortably. “God, you’re like your mother. 

“My feet just hurt.” Violet said. 

“Maybe it’s cause you wear platform heels.” I commented.

Violet shot me a cold stare, as her attention returned to Sam. “Well, just for five minutes alright, and then table ten wants another pitcher of beer, and Mrs Newman just came in… and I’m not dealing with her again.” 

“Sure thing.” Violet said as she winked at Sam, before he stalked away. 

“You’ve gotta stop taunting him like that.” I said. 

“That’s just half the fun of working here.” 

“Well, I’m gonna get table ten a pitcher of beer, and you can deal with Mrs Newman.” 

Violet pulled a face. “What? No, I don’t want to deal with Mrs Newman, she has garlic and fish breath.” 

“Don’t stand so close to her then.” 

“Alright, then you deal with Mrs Newman.” 

“No, I dealt with her last time, it’s your turn,” I said, and added, “plus it’s not just garlic and fish breath, it’s also pickles.” 

Violet whined, just then in the distance, the sound of the door opened as it triggered the bell that hung above it. 

“Okay, look, you deal with Mrs Newman, and I’ll take care of table ten and show this new customer,” I explained, “and then we’ll sneak out for a cigarette break.” I finished off. 

Immediately, I watched as a smile flashed across Violet’s face. “Fine, deal.” 

I poured a pitcher of beer, as I headed straight towards table ten and set it down, before I crossed the floor and greeted the customer. “Sorry about the wait, sir.” I said. 

“It’s quite alright.” He said. 

My gaze drifted over him, and suddenly I was somehow taken aback. His stare met with mine and I stared deep into his dark chocolate brown eyes. Lines had begun to form beneath his eyes, and across his face. Gray and white hair had also seeped into his beard. He wore a faded Led Zeppelin T-shirt, with a leather jacket over it, paired with blue jeans and heavy duty boots. Across his forehead, was a dark blue bandana tied around. 

“Are you alright, miss?” He asked, suddenly I was pulled back into reality as I realized I had remained silent this whole time. 

“I’m sorry,” I said and shook my head, “please, follow me.” I instructed as I spun on my heels, as he followed me. I stepped aside and gestured to the table in the far back. 

He stood as his gaze drifted over the table and then to me. “I don’t mean to be a bother, but if it’s alright to take the booth in the corner. I just prefer some privacy.” 

“Oh, of course.” I said, as I gestured towards the booth which was only several steps away, as he slipped into the booth and shifted in his position. “I’ll get you a menu.” 

“Hmm, that’s quite alright. I’ll just take a Heineken.” 

“Actually, sorry we don’t have those- we’ve only got on tap.” 

“Alright, I’ll just take a pint of whatever you’ve got.” 

“Sure.” I said, as I stalked over towards the bar. My heartbeat pounded against my chest. He certainly was not the type of man I had usually gone for, not just because he appeared to be at least twice my age. But I couldn’t deny that there was a certain charisma and mystery to him, which left me wanting to return to him. 

After I had poured his beer, I placed it onto a tray and stalked back towards him, as I set it down. His hand reached for the glass, as our fingers caressed and I felt a jolt pulse through me. He stared up at me through his eyelashes and smiled.

“Thanks, doll.” He said, as I immediately felt my cheeks flush. 

“Enjoy.” I said awkwardly, as I turned away and prodded towards the counter. 

Moments later, Violet returned and slapped me across the arm. “What the hell?” I said. 

“You said we were gonna have a cigarette break,” she hissed, “I stood out back for like ten minutes, and then Ricky saw me and would not shut the fuck up.” 

“I’m sorry, I was dealing with that guy-” I said, and added, “say, do you know who he is? I’ve never seen him before.” 

“Who?” Violet asked, as I subtly pointed over towards the man’s direction. Violet’s eyes narrowed as she cocked her head to the side. “You don’t know who that is?” She asked me in disbelief. 

“Should I know?” 

“That’s Rex Brown, the bassist who was in Pantera and is now in Down.” 

“Who? What bands?” 

Dawn’s eyes widened. “You don’t know who Pantera and Down are?” 

“No.” I said. 

“Jeez, what do you listen to?” 

“I grew up with stuff like My Chemical Romance.” 

Violet pulled a face. “Oh my god, seriously, do not let my mom know- she’ll murder your ass.”

“Alright, so he’s a musician.” I said nonchalantly, “so what?”

“He’s big,” Violet commented, “he used to live here, my mom actually hung out with him and the band during the ‘80s, but I guess he relocated over the years, and now maybe he’s back.” 

“Your mom used to hang out with the band?” I asked, as my eyes narrowed. 

“Well, she wasn’t a groupie or anything!” Violet shot back, and added, “actually I think she may have slept with the guitar player.” 

I shook my head. “Okay, I don’t wanna hear this.” 

“Why do you wanna know?” 

I shrugged. “No reason. Just curious, that’s all.” 

“Uh huh.” Violet said, as her brows furrowed. 

I cleared my throat, as I grabbed a tray and stepped around Violet. “Anyway, I’m going to clear table eight.” I announced as I stomped away from her. 

As I carefully stacked the dirty plates and cups onto my tray, I felt a presence hover by my shoulder. From my peripheral vision, I managed to make out a figure towering over me. 

“Can I help you?” I asked, as I turned my attention to a middle aged man, with a plump figure and a bushy beard. He held a glass in his hand which was half filled with beer. 

“Hey there,” he said, his words slurred. 

“Hi.” I said skeptically. 

“Can I buy you a drink?” 

“I’m working, so no thank you.” 

“What time do you get off your shift?” 

I edged away from him, feelings of fear had begun to possess me. “Hmm, I’m really busy now.” 

“Come on,” he said as he stepped forward and was about to reach for me, and I flinched. 

All of a sudden, I watched as another figure emerged as he shoved the drunken guy away, causing him to stumble backwards. A slosh of his beer spilled over his hand and droplets fell to the ground. 

“She’s not interested, asshole.” The voice bellowed. 

I peered up and watched as Rex stood in front of me, shielding me against the man. 

“I was just trying to talk to the lady.” The man commented. 

Rex closed the gap between them. “And now you have, so get lost.” He threatened in a stern voice. 

My gaze jumped between the man and Rex, as I noticed Rex’s hands and curled into fists. His jaw clenched, as he continued to stare down at the man, before he stalked away. 

Suddenly, I released the breath I hadn’t realized I had held, as Rex spun around. “Are you okay?” He asked, his voice softened. 

I nodded. “Thank you,” I sighed, “just another drunken asshole.” 

He cocked his head to the side. “What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?” 

I scoffed. “What makes you think that I’m nice?” 

He smirked. 

My heartbeat pounded against my chest, as I felt the hold of his stare. I cleared my throat, “so, can I get you anything else?” I immediately interjected, trying to change the subject. 

“No, actually I’m just gonna pay for the drink and head out.” 

“Oh, it’s on me… as a thank you.” 

“That’s quite alright- I was just doing what I’m supposed to.” He said, as he reached into his back pocket and drew out his wallet. 

“No, I insist.” I ordered as I placed my hand over his. 

Our gazes locked and he nodded. “Well, thank you.” 

Suddenly, I flinched as I realized my hand was still upon Rex’s. A wave of sadness brushed over me, as I watched him walk away, knowing that I’d never see him again. 

—-------------------------

The following day, I found myself hunched on the couch with my laptop resting on my lap. My brief encounter with Rex yesterday had left me with a hollow pit that had formed inside of me. The image of his face constantly flashed across my mind, the stare of his eyes and the feel of his skin beneath mine. 

It had caused me to swallow my temptation as I searched his name on the Internet, after watching a couple of his interviews and finding a photograph of him during the ‘80s, where he posed shirtless, his long beautiful locks draped across his chest, as he wore leather gloves, a cigarette dangling between his fingers and a bottle of Wild Turkey in his other. 

I had lost track of the amount of time I had spent staring at the image, which the picture itself had definitely caused a tingling sensation between my legs. I shut the laptop and cast it aside, feeling as if I had violated and broken some trust by creeping up on him. 

I pushed myself onto standing as I straightened and stretched out my body. My gaze drifted over towards the clock which sat on the mantelpiece and I frowned, realizing that I had already wasted most of the morning. This certainly wasn’t how I wanted to spend my day off. 

Immediately, I found myself stalking out of the living room as I crossed the hallway and descended downstairs towards the basement where I had taken up residence there since my move back in town. 

The sliver of sunlight seeped in through the window, which illuminated a faint patch of the basement. Cardboard boxes were scattered across it, and I still had trouble unpacking everything. Meanwhile, my temporary airbed sat in the middle of the room. It was a depressing sight, although it was better for me to stay in the basement then back in my childhood bedroom upstairs with my parents, although that wasn’t even possible as my mom had it converted into a tanning salon, the moment I had moved out for college several years ago. Something, I could never understand, after all, we lived in fucking Texas. 

I reached towards my messenger bag as I drew out my phone, and groaned as Violet still hadn’t responded to my text. 

I pressed her number and dialed it as I placed the phone beside my ear. After several rings, it automatically went to voicemail, which I then tried calling her home phone. 

Several seconds later, a voice responded. “Hello.” 

“Hi, is Violet there?” I asked, as I uttered my name. 

“I’m sorry honey, this is her mom. Violet’s still out,” Violet’s mom said. 

“Oh, hey Mrs-”

“God, honey,” Violet’s mom interrupted, “there’s no need for that. Just call me Scarlet, dear.” She said, and chuckled. 

“I’m sorry, old habits.” I said and released a nervous laugh. “Could you let her know I called.”

“Of course, sweetie.”

“Thank you.” I responded, as I ended the call, and sighed. 

I stood in the center of the basement and pouted. Boredom was sinking in, as I decided to change into my black bikini and lay in the sun. Once I had gotten dressed, I dug around trying to find my sunglasses, and only managed to find a pair of red heart shaped glasses when I had gotten them at a cheap bodega during college. I shrugged as I slipped them onto my head, and stalked back upstairs to the house, as I made my way to the front lawn. 

The moment I stepped outside, I felt the sun graze my skin and the grass beneath me tickled my feet. I propped myself down onto the lounge chair that had not moved at all since I first moved into this house, and straightened my legs. 

My body relaxed as I raised my arms above my head and closed my eyes. Time had slipped past me and I wasn’t sure how long I had laid out there. In the distance, I heard the sound of a loud thump, which was enough to pull me back into reality. 

I cocked my head to the side, and noticed several moving vans had parked in the driveway to the house next to mine. It was then that I realized the huge red sign that read ‘Sold’.

I watched as a couple of burly guys began unloading the van, which seemed to mainly consist of musical instruments, preferably bass guitars and amplifiers. 

Just then, a black Mercedes pulled up. Once my vision had fixated on the man that emerged from the vehicle, the man’s gaze turned and locked with mine, which I immediately gasped. 

He cocked his head to the side as he began to walk towards my direction. Suddenly, I felt very exposed, realizing that my bikini hardly covered anything on my body. I shifted in my position, as he stood before me. 

“Hey.” He said, as a smile flashed across his face. “You're the girl from the bar?” 

“Yep.” Was all I managed to say, as I was still in complete disbelief at the reality that was about to unfold before me. 

“I don’t think I ever introduced myself. I’m Rex Brown, and I guess I’m gonna be your new neighbor.” He said. 

[thefact0rygirl]

Hi Vee, the last few anons about engagement have really resonated with me and I want to add my own feelings. This is not directed at you, I just appreciate how you answered those anons and thought you would be the safest person to say this to.

Everyone is a lot busier now as we are forced back to the pre-pandemic 'normal'. Readers don't have the support system that writers do, so they're less likely to stay. And I think your point about fandoms growing and shrinking naturally is also true of this fandom. It is simply something that happens.

Writers responding to previous anons that they're not getting notifications of comments and posts not appearing in the search again is annoying. Readers have had these problems for months, but it is never considered in posts about engagement. They just do not have a platform to talk about these issues because readers follow writers, not vice versa.

I find other fandoms to be more welcoming where readers can discuss with writers in separate posts, but this does not seem to be the case here. Reaching out to writers through asks or DMs is almost never reciprocated, so advice for people to do so falls flat. Some writers are on discord where they have their own discussions, but readers are not included and there is nothing similar just for readers. While it's not the writer's fault, there is a perception of a hierarchy where readers are only that: readers. They're not people to include or interact with, they're just the people whose job it is to reblog and that is all they are good for. The writers who say 'cherish your writers otherwise they'll leave' could take a step back and ask themselves how they're treating everyone else. Do they cherish their readers? If so, do they communicate that? Do they engage with/reach out to readers, or do they stick with other writers? If readers feel like they're not actual members of the fandom, why would they stay?

A previous anon said that posts about low engagement are off putting and I agree. There are writers, who I have reblogged, posting about how current interaction is not enough which has made me feel incredibly unworthy. I might make a shorter comment than others do or add only tags, but that plus the time spent reading it in the first place is time and effort I could have given to someone else. It is this, and the difficulty in making connections, that make me seriously consider deactivating. After all, what is the point of me being here if all I am is an outsider? I'm here to talk about Star Wars and make friends with like minded people but I'm not good enough to create and it is very clear that is the only thing that matters here.

Sorry for the essay Vee

Hi babes 💜 There is no need to apologize! I’m honored that you felt safe enough to send this. The previous anons brought up what a lot of people have been feeling (myself included). 

Interaction is a sensitive topic - one without a clear and definitive answer - and that is frustrating. It’s not a comfortable conversation, but it's still worth having. Especially when so many people are feeling the same way.

You brought up so many important points, especially from a reader’s perspective! Thank you for sending this in. I’ve been thinking about this recently, and you articulated it so well!

We always say that fandom is a community, but there absolutely is an emphasis on writers. More often than not, we stress how readers should be interacting, but rarely is the opposite discussed. It's presented almost like a one-way street, and that doesn't exactly promote a community that is inclusive of both readers and writers. I can see how that might make a reader feel that they are only good for reblogging. That sounds really unfair, especially when many writers know what it feels like to be treated like writing machines.

And you're right. It's discouraging to feel like you're not good enough. If you always feel second best then why stay? No one wants to feel like that. I don’t blame readers for leaving or stop reblogging. 

Interactions are a complicated thing, and to truly understand it we need to look at it from everyone's perspective. It's not to assign blame to anyone (tbh I don't think that is helpful), but to understand what is happening and look at our own actions. Everyone's experience in fandom is valid. Thank you again for sharing this 🤍

[genavere]

I'm honestly not sure how you could have missed the fact that ravewood was a reposter? People have talked about it extensively, and the art they reposted never matched their url. If you need me to do the labour for you, https://www.tumblr.com/genavere/724723129006604288?source=share here's your most recent offense. https://www.tumblr.com/54prowl/696176793830506496/a-couple-of-things-i-check-to-know-if-the-person?source=share Here's a guide to take notes from, because the post I linked here has so many blatant signs of reposting that it's laughable. Also it doesn't stop being art theft just because it's funny. If you're reblogging stolen work just because it makes you and other people happy, that's still art theft and it's still morally wrong. If your fics that you worked hard on were reposted without credit, I'm sure you wouldn't be too delighted with that. I've given you the resources so please do better.

"If you need me to do the labour for you, https://www.tumblr.com/genavere/724723129006604288?source=share here's your most recent offense."

Remember how I said there was one that I was questionable on? Yeah, that was the one. It's has now been deleted. After you politely informed me it was indeed the one, I did a google search, couldn't find the original artist to credit, so I deleted it.

Did I do my diligence on it? No. Why? It was posted in 2020 and I didn't do a deep dive of the blog. I don't check every account.

"I'm honestly not sure how you could have missed the fact that ravewood was a reposter? People have talked about it extensively, and the art they reposted never matched their url."

Ravewood was one of the first users I came across when I came back to tumblr last year and was looking for Fairy Tail content. After being on the platform again for a couple of months and getting my toes wet, that's when I took off my rose-colored glasses and realized what they were.

At that point in time, I knew no one in the fandom and was hungry.

An important note about people on the internet: Not everyone is in the loop, not everyone is in social circles, and not everyone sees the warning posts right away, either.

Is it an excuse? Yes, and I acknowledge that and the mistakes I've made.

So, now that you have schooled me, thank you for doing the labor for me.

Here is also somethings from that blog you recommended, along with the link for anyone interested:

"Also it doesn't stop being art theft just because it's funny. If you're reblogging stolen work just because it makes you and other people happy, that's still art theft and it's still morally wrong."

Regarding when what I meant by making people happy: it's the memes.

Check out this funny video that I reblogged:

It was great fun watching that. The poor guy that is shaking, I felt sooo bad for him.

How about this one about the grandson of Ulysses S. Grant writing gay vampire fiction:

Lovely information about a gentleman who has defied social norms and prejudice to be with his husband for so long and to write what he is passionate about.

"...because the post I linked here has so many blatant signs of reposting that it's laughable." "Please be more careful when you're reblogging fan art. On more than one occassion you've reblogged stolen fan art which gets spread around even more and that's so unfair to the artists."

If your original message had said: "Hey, this one [link] that you reblogged is stolen, would you mind taking it down or crediting the artist?"

I would have been like: "Oh shoot, sorry about that! Thank you for letting me know!" and taken it down. Would have been appreciative, even.

But you weren't.

Right out of the gate, you were standoffish. The tone felt like you said your piece and were not willing to have a conversation. Not willing to be helpful in letting me know which of the many stolen fanarts you accused me of.

That tone carries through into this ask.

Do I usually try to make sure I reblog credited art? Yes, and as I learn more about how things should be, like trying to attach the original tags the person put, I adapt.

Do I always catch everything? No, cause I am human and sometimes you just can't do better.

"If your fics that you worked hard on were reposted without credit, I'm sure you wouldn't be too delighted with that."

Would I be happy if my fics were reposted without credit? No, cause I would like to know what people think of them and I would not be able to see if they enjoyed them or thought they were trash.

Has this happened? Yes, and with original works, too. Happened to a book that I had self-published, which meant potential lost revenue.

Would I blame someone who reblogged from someone else it if I found out? No. I would let them know that it had been reposted without my consent and ask if they could edit their post to give credit, or take it down and reblog mine.

"I've given you the resources so please do better."

You did give me a resource, which I appreciate.

But, please note, that you could do better, too. Kindness goes a long way, and is a far better teaching tool.

On a last note, how about this one I also reblogged:

[fanaticsnail]

Spamming you with asks rn

🧃🪐🦷🦴🍅☁️🌸 - for the asks game if you don't mind (you can pick and chose if it's too much)

Hello you darling snail! Keep spamming me, I love it! Made me really think about a few of these, and I love you for it.

🧃Personal lore: I have 6 tattoos. Of all of these etched markes on my body, my favourite is one of the one I was born with. I have a birthmark in the shape of Australia (my country) on my left hip. It even includes a dot for Tasmania.

🪐Three good things: My baby brother married his beautiful wife last month, I got to meet @sordidmusings in person and produce music while showing my country to her, I have made friends that are entirely my own over this platform (no prior relational context: work, husband, children, family. And you are all spectacular and mean so much to me). This platform is seriously a highlight right now, and I am enjoying each moment I spend here learning and growing.

🦷Personal wisdom/hack: Don't tell lies. It's easier to keep up with the truth than channeling all your energy in organizing what lie you told to whom.

🦴Media inspiration: I have spoken about it before, but a lot of my writing style has been inspired by the books I used to read in childhood. The Belgariad series by David Eddings is a great influence, alongside the Hogfather by Sir Terry Pratchett. The character of ‘the Governess' in Sapsorrow took notes and played hints at ‘Polgara the Sorceress’ and ‘Susan Sto Helit’ from those series. Both strong, capable women who manage youths under their charge.

🍅Constructive criticism: I need to understand that crafting these words take time, and I don't need to do it all at once. I often find myself pulling a shift as a parent all day, then opening my laptop, writing until 1am, then sleeping until my day starts at around 5-6am. I need to understand words and craft do not need to occur all at the one time, I can edit the following day or source images for my words the day thereafter. But I get too excited and physically vibrate with enthusiasm when I do - which then keeps the adrenaline pumping for me to remain awake.

☁️Why “FanaticSnail”: Long story short, it was a name assigned to me way back in the day when online gaming. It stuck, and I liked it. Boring, really. I do like snails, and I do get fanatical about a few subjects.

🌸Pets: I have an army of pets! I have 5 chickens in my backyard farm: Consuela, Ophelia, Thomasin, Dahlia and Jacqueline. I also have the most hideous ginger cat known to mankind, but what he lacks in beauty he makes up with enthusiastic affection. His name is Griswold, and it suits him.

[nanowrimo]

Using Kindle Vella for NaNoWriMo Motivation

Every year, we’re lucky to have great sponsors for our nonprofit events. Kindle Vella, a 2022 NaNoWriMo sponsor, is a publishing platform for serialized stories. Today, the folks at Kindle Vella are here to share some tips from author Kimberly Titus on how to get some extra noveling motivation:

Anyone can pen their next great novel if they put their mind to it, but having the support of a community to cheer you on makes all the difference, especially in those moments where you feel impostor syndrome creeping in. Like NaNoWriMo, Kindle Vella makes reading and writing a fun and interactive experience.

Kindle Vella is a serialized reading experience in the Kindle app where authors receive immediate feedback on their story as they publish one episode at a time! Readers can champion their favorite stories leaving a review or giving a ‘thumbs up’. Additionally, authors can interact with readers by leaving notes or teasers at the end of each episode, as well as create polls to get feedback on what should happen next in the story.

Whether you’ve got a couple of novels under your belt or you’re a first time author, Kindle Vella welcomes all NaNoWriMo authors. Kimberly Titus started writing her first of several Kindle Vella stories, Top Faved Murder, Marriage, and Macarons, during NaNoWriMo in 2020. She spent 25 years working in finance before transitioning to writing. Several novels later, she hasn’t looked back!

Kimberly was kind enough to share with us about her experience publishing her NaNoWriMo story with Kindle Vella:

“Kindle Vella has taught me a lot about writing... it has improved how I pace my writing, develop characters, and create tension within the plot. By setting a cadence of publishing an episode a week, I have increased my writing production overall.”

Kimberly noted how an ongoing conversation with readers helped her process.

“My favorite part of using Kindle Vella is the reader engagement. Readers have the opportunity to follow the stories they want to read, ‘fave’ the stories they like the most, and give a thumbs up to episodes that they enjoy. At the end of each episode, most authors leave a personal note to the readers. This gives the readers more of a connection to the author than traditional publishing. The Kindle Vella format has helped me build up my reader base and has increased my social media platform. I have also enjoyed meeting other Kindle Vella authors and learning alongside them."

She also offered some tips to fellow authors looking to draft or publish their work on Kindle Vella.

“It is important that episodes are moving the plot along with compelling characters, plot twists, and cliffhangers that bring readers back to read the next episode. The concept of publishing one episode at a time allows the author to publish as they edit. This also gives the author time to experiment with their writing. It is a great way to engage with your readers and tweak plot lines. There is a polling option that authors can add to the end of an episode to ask the readers questions. I have found that reader engagement increases the loyalty of the readers on this platform.”

We can’t wait for the conclusion of the latest story in Kimberly’s latest cozy mystery: Murder, Motherhood, and Magnolias. All of Kim’s stories are currently available to read on Kindle Vella.

Writing together is better than writing alone! Why not publish your NaNoWriMo novel on Kindle Vella as you write to help keep you accountable and motivated with the help of enthusiastic readers? Kindle Vella is a great place to test your stories in front of an audience.

Any story completed during NaNoWriMo this year is eligible to be featured on Kindle Vella. Be sure to include the tag #KVNANOWRIMO22 when you publish with us! You can begin your publishing journey here.

We hope to read your new work soon. Happy writing, and good luck!

Kindle is introducing a new storytelling option: Kindle Vella. With Kindle Vella, U.S. based authors can publish serialized stories, one short episode at a time. Start your story today!

[calicocatfancier]

9/20/20 Ben Meiselas, One of the Golden Boys with the MeidasTouch

Ben Meiselas is the co-founder of the MeidasTouch Network (MTN), which he started with his brothers, Brett and Jordan.  The MeidasTouch is responsible for thousands of anti-Trump videos on YouTube and other social media sites.  They have posted over 6,500,000 videos and have over 1.6 million subscribers according to YouTube.

Ben and his brothers promised to always state the truth on their MeidasTouch vids.  In the 11/28/2020 issue of the “Hollywood Reporter,” Brett stated, “We are very careful and put a lot of thought into our messaging and into everything that we create, but we also don’t sit on it for weeks to make sure that everything about it is absolutely perfect. [emphasis added].  We need to be current. We need to be provocative. We need to be truthful and on top of it and continuously get the message out.”

A Google search showed some cracks.

During the December 2020 debate between Rev. Raphael Warnock (D-GA) and Senator Kelly Loeffler (R-GA), a strand of her long hair appeared lighter than other strands.  Her critics claimed that this was proof that she was wearing a wire, and Ben was one of those critics.  He shared this theory with his 100,000+ followers.  The allegation was soon refuted.  

The Meiselas brothers’ transparency took another hit after an interview with Seth Hettena, a freelance writer for the Rolling Stone.  He interviewed the brothers in December 2010, and the article ran in the April 2021 issue.  The headline read, “The Trouble with MeidasTouch,” and the opening continued, “The brothers behind the breakout anti-Trump PAC are the golden boys of the #Resistance, but when ‘Rolling Stone’ took a look beneath the surface, their response turned Trumpian.”  Ouch!

Mr. Hettena continued, “The group spent more than $1 million on an advertising strategy that it calls revolutionary but campaign veterans and independent experts say is nonsensical and a more effective tool for fundraising than for helping Democrats win elections. And despite its promised transparency, MeidasTouch’s financial structure makes a dollar-for-dollar accounting of its spending impossible — and, according to a former Federal Election Commission attorney, raises some of the same legal issues that got the Trump campaign into trouble in 2020.”  That had to hurt. 

The brothers made the declaration that they had supported Democratic nominees with their money.  Mr. Hettena made the distinction that MeidasTouch were using other people’s money, not their own. 

The brothers used their platform to protest Mr. Hettena’s article in a 40-minute rant.  Among other statements, Ben declared that he doesn’t earn a salary for his work on MeidasTouch and that he has also shut down a significant portion of his law practice since Covid started.  He described Mr. Hettena as a hack freelance who wants to write a journalistic hit piece on them because of their SuperPAC status.  

Is Seth Hettena really a hack?  To find out, I did a background check on the investigative journalist.  A Google Scholar search yielded many links.  I learned that he wrote two books: Trump/Russia: A Definitive History, which documented the two world leaders’ history together.  Jane Mayer, author of “The New York Times’bestseller, Dark Money, wrote "Hettena is a first-rate reporter and wonderful story-teller, and the tale he tells here is mind-boggling.”   

Hettena clearly supports the anti-Trump rhetoric created by the Meiselas brothers, but he has a problem with their SuperPac status.  For starters, the reporter stated that after the brothers declared a six-figure advertising airtime buy, a search of invoices TV stations filed with the Federal Communications Commission shows the group spent less than $80,000 worth of donor money.

I don’t share Ben Meiselas’s opinion that Seth Hettena is a political hack.  He has written two well-received books and was endorsed by a New York Times columnist.  In addition to The Rolling Stone, Mr. Hettena has written for other reputable journals like The New Republic, and he is currently working on an expose of the CIA and Navy Seals in Iraq.  Mr. Hettena applauds the MeidasTouch Network for the good that they do.  His problem is with SuperPacs in general, an opinion he shares with many others.  The Brennan Center for Justice outlined those concerns on their website. as documented in their blog “10 Years of Super PACs Show Courts Were Wrong on Corruption Risks.

The MeidasTouch continues to air hundreds of videos per month.  The ex-president is less of a focal point in these videos as the brothers have targeted other far right Republicans as well.

As the saying goes, nobody is perfect, which clearly applies to the Meiselas brothers.  But I applaud their efforts trying to keep our nation intact.