#pre-map call

[cynthiadasorceress]

I'm making a M.A.P.!! (Hopefully...)

It's not open yet, as I'm still figuring out character designs, and more importantly, the song. It'll be an animation about Rusty from The Sounds Of Nightmares (my boy doesn't get enough attention T^T) to either Circus of the Dead or Carousel.

When I am ready for participants, I'll post links to the Discord, Google Doc, and any other resources for the project, along with putting a video on YouTube. So keep an eye out if you're interested!

[happyk44]

To me, children of Zeus are natural strategists in the same way children of Athena are. But the difference is that Zeus and his kids have multiple plans and contingencies if a plan fails at a certain point and needs to shift gears. So like they employ Plan A and get all the way to stage four of the plan when suddenly there's a deviation from expectations for whatever reason. So they shift gears from Plan A1 to Plan A2, which accounted for this deviation and continue on.

Athena and her kids, however, come up with one solid, somewhat broader plan and refuse to deviate from it at all unless there is literally no other choice, in which case they will improvise quickly and efficiently to accomodate the change and get back on track to the original plan.

[griffincloud]

Needlessly edgy experimental doodle of my fursona that I'm flip-flopping between hating and liking

[lord-of-tomatoes]

Sorry if this feels like pro Egypt propaganda she's just stuck in the past

Prev | Next

[fogaminghub]

🎮 The countdown to Call of Duty: Black Ops 6 is on! Are you ready for epic gameplay on October 25? 🚀 

From mind-blowing multiplayer maps to spine-chilling Zombie modes, there’s so much to explore! Dive deep into our guide for all the insider tips you need to dominate the battlefield! 🔫 

[planetamarte]

EVERYTHING INSPIRES ME TO CREATE

[bourbontrend]

Discover the magic of Vox Machina in a bottle! Critical Role has teamed up with Find Familiar Spirits to bring you Sandkheg's Hide, a limited-edition bourbon inspired by the iconic in-game drink. Perfect for fans of Critical Role and whiskey enthusiasts alike! Don't miss out on this unique collaboration. #CriticalRole #FindFamiliarSpirits

[damnyousubdermalirritants]

UPDATE: NOVAVAX NOW AVAILABLE!!!

Hi everyone, it's been about a year since I posted about updated COVID vaccines and it's time for another update if you are in the US:

THE BRIDGE ACCESS PROGRAM IS ENDING!!!!

If you are uninsured or your insurance does not cover covid boosters, please schedule a new booster appointment before the end of August because the Bridge Access Program (the way the government will still pay for your booster) ends in September. The updated mRNA boosters from Moderna and Pfizer are available now. Go Go GO!!!

Shitty, I know! If you can call your congressional reps, the FDA, the CDC, whomever to tell them you want this program to continue/be reinstated, that would be great. Also, while you're at it, call the FDA to tell them to expedite the approval for the updated Novavax booster (3017962640).

The new Novavax vaccine is designed for the JN.1 strain which is one of the most recent mutations of the virus going around. If you have insurance and can afford to wait, I highly recommend getting the Novavax booster when it becomes available.

We are currently in the largest Covid summer surge since 2021

If you haven't had a booster in the past six months you are essentially unvaccinated. New strains with different spike proteins keep evolving faster than vaccine development and distribution can keep up. All that said, getting Covid is not a moral failing. If you do feel sick, take a rapid test! If it's negative, test again a day or two later. It is better to know than not to know. Here's a refresh on how to take a rapid test correctly:

If you do get Covid, it is worth getting on antiretrovirals within the first week of symptoms to reduce the overall viral load your body has to fight. If your insurance doesn't cover Paxlovid or Remdesivir, here are other low/no-cost ways to access it:

If you get sick, rest radically even after you stop testing positive on rapid tests. Avoid exercising for at least eight weeks after the fact to reduce the risk of developing long covid.

Regardless of your vaccination status, masking with a KN95 or N95 respirator (or equivalent standards in your country i.e. FFP2/3 in the EU) is the most reliable way to protect yourself and others. If Covid protections are a financial burden, there is likely an active Mask Bloc near you doing free distribution of respirators and tests that would be happy to help you. Here's a global map of them from covidactionmap.org

Some quick tips: if you're wearing a bi-fold mask, flatten the nose-bridge wire completely, then mold it to your nose on your face for a better fit. The best mask is the one that you will actually wear regularly to protect yourself. I really like the selection of styles, sizes and colors from WellBefore:

As school is starting, getting you and your family boosted is one of the best things you can do to protect yourselves. Masking is perhaps even more important. If you can advocate for updating and regularly changing the HVAC filters at your local schools to MERV-13 or higher to keep the indoor air cleaner, that can also make a big difference. Better indoor air quality in schools helps protect kids from illness, allergies, wildfire smoke, and more per the EPA's website.

These are steps you can take to improve air quality at home as well. Corsi-Rosenthal boxes are low-cost and highly effective for cleaning the air indoors.

Here's a map of clean air lending libraries for getting access to air purifiers for events from cleanairclub.org

[harrysfolklore]

first win - op81

gif by @princemick <33

summary: the road to oscar’s first grand prix win. wc: 3.4K

folkie radio: OSC’S FIRST WIN 🥹🥹🥹 that race that so stressful but he did it and i’m so happy! fun fact: i wrote this fic last night bc i just FELT oscar was winning, i just added today’s race a few hours ago 😭 i hope you like it! leave feedback

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

February 5, 2023. Bahrain Grand Prix

Today was the big day. Oscar Piastri was set to make his Formula 1 debut as a McLaren driver.

You've talked about this countless of times, sharing dreams and fears, mapping out every step of his journey from karting to the pinnacle of motorsport.

Now, as you stood in the garage with the crowd's energy buzzing around you, it was hard to believe that moment had finally arrived.

Oscar was going through some pre-race talks with his team. You caught sight of him from a distance, his face a mask of focus and determination. When he spotted you, he broke into a smile, and for a brief moment, the tension seemed to melt away.

You make your way over to him as he finishes up with his team.

"Ready to set the track on fire, hotshot?" you tease, playfully tugging at the sleeve of his race suit.

Oscar grins, a mix of excitement and nerves dancing in his eyes. "Well, hopefully not literally. I don't think the team would appreciate a barbecued car on my first outing."

His chuckle is tinged with a hint of nervousness. You notice his hand fidgeting with the zipper of his race suit – a telltale sign of his pre-race jitters.

"Hey," you say softly, taking his hand. "Remember what we always say? You've earned this. You belong here."

"I know. It's just...," he took a deep breath, "It's really happening, isn't it? All those years of dreaming, and now..."

"And now you're about to drive the pants off everyone out there," you finish for him, your voice filled with confidence.

As the final call for drivers echoes through the garage, you both know it's time. Oscar's eyes lock with yours, a swirl of emotions passing between you. Without a word, he pulls you close, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss. It's brief but filled with emotion.

"For luck," you whisper as you part, your foreheads still touching.

"With you here, I've got all the luck I need," Oscar replies softly, his smile warm and genuine.

With a final squeeze of your hand, he heads to where he's needed. You watch him go, your heart racing with anticipation.

The race begins, and for the first 14 laps, everything seems to be going well. Oscar is holding his own, fighting in the midfield, showing flashes of the talent that got him here.

But on lap 15, your heart sinks as you see his car slow down, veering off the racing line. The team radio crackles with the devastating news: "Box, box. We have a steering issue. We need to retire the car."

You watch, helpless, as Oscar brings the car back to the pits. The disappointment is palpable as he climbs out, his debut cut short.

As soon as he's free from the debrief, you find him in his driver's room. His face is a mask of frustration and disappointment.

"Hey," you say softly, taking his hand. "You okay?"

Oscar sighs, squeezing your hand. "Not really. I just... I wanted to finish the race, you know? Show everyone what I could do."

You pull him into a hug. "And you will. This is just the first race, Oscar. There are plenty more to come."

July 9, 2023. British Grand Prix

Silverstone is one of the most special races in the calendar, and for Oscar it's even more special because England is his second home.

He really wanted to deliver a great result. So far, he hadn't been able to place above P8 and he desperately wanted to improve that.

"I know you're nervous about tomorrow," you said as you laid your head on his chest, feeling him tense, "But you're going to do great, baby."

Oscar wraps his arm around you, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your shoulder. "You really think so?" he asks, his voice a mix of hope and uncertainty.

You prop yourself up on your elbow to look at him. "I know so. You've been getting stronger with every race. The car's improving, and you're more comfortable with it. Plus, this is Silverstone - you know this track like the back of your hand."

He smiles, some of the tension leaving his face. "I do love this circuit."

"That's the spirit," you say, leaning in to kiss him softly. "Now get some sleep. You've got some racing to do in the morning."

The next day you watch from the garage, your heart swells with pride as Oscar delivers a perfect drive. As he crosses the finish line in P4, the garage erupts in cheers. It's his best result in Formula 1 to date, a performance that will silence any remaining doubters.

When he finally makes it back to the garage, helmet off and face beaming, you're there waiting. He sweeps you up in a hug, both of you laughing with joy.

"You did it!" you exclaim as he sets you down. "I told you you could do it!"

Oscar's eyes are shining with elation and pride. "We did it," he corrects you. "I couldn't have done this without your support."

September 24th, 2023. Japanese Grand Prix

You're perched on the edge of your couch, eyes glued to the TV screen, your heart racing as the lights go out at Suzuka. It's killing you not to be there in person, but work commitments had made the trip to Japan impossible.

Your mind flashes back to your conversation with Oscar yesterday after qualifying. His voice had been filled with excitement and a hint of disbelief as he told you about securing second place on the grid, right behind Max Verstappen.

"Can you believe it?" he had said, his words tumbling out in a rush. "P2! Right behind Max! I mean, I knew the car felt good, but this... this is incredible!"

You had matched his enthusiasm, your pride evident in your voice. "I told you you could do it! Just imagine what you could do in the race from there."

Now, as the race unfolds, you find yourself alternating between cheering out loud and holding your breath. When he crosses the finish line in third place, you leap off the couch, screaming in joy. His first podium and in just his 14th race.

You watch the podium ceremony with tears in your eyes, your heart swelling with pride as Oscar stands there, beaming, champagne in hand next to Max and Lando. It's a moment you've both dreamed about for so long.

It was killing you not to be there.

Hours pass, and you know Oscar must be caught up in team celebrations and media obligations. You're itching to talk to him, but you don't want to interrupt. Finally, just as you're considering going to bed, your phone rings.

"Hey, podium finisher," you answer, unable to keep the smile out of your voice.

"Hey yourself," Oscar replies, and you can hear the grin in his voice. "Sorry it took so long to call. It's been absolutely crazy here."

"Don't apologize! I'm just so incredibly proud of you, Oscar. You were amazing out there. Your first podium, it's a dream come true."

There's a moment of silence, and when Oscar speaks again, his voice is thick with emotion. "I just wish you could have been here. It doesn't feel quite complete without you."

"I know," you say softly. "I wish I could have been there too. But hey, this is just the first of many podiums, right? I'll be there for the next one."

"You bet it is," Oscar chuckles, "And you better be, I need someone to help me wash all this champagne out of my hair."

You laugh, feeling a mix of joy and longing. "I love you, Oscar. Enjoy your celebrations. You've earned it."

"I love you too," he replies warmly, "And I miss you, we have some celebration on our own to do."

October 8th, 2023. Qatar Grand Prix.

The heat in Qatar is suffocating, but the excitement in the air is even more intense. You're back in the paddock, determined not to miss another milestone in Oscar's career. Yesterday's sprint shootout had been a nail-biter, with Oscar securing pole position for the sprint race by mere hundredths of a second.

As the short-format race begins, you hold your breath. Oscar gets a perfect start, maintaining his lead into the first corner. As the final lap approaches, the McLaren garage is in shambles.

When Oscar crosses the finish line in first place, the explosion of joy is deafening. You're jumping up and down, tears streaming down your face as you watch him punch the air in triumph. He's done it - his first ever Formula 1 race win.

As Oscar pulls into parc fermé, you can see the emotion on his face even through his helmet. When he finally removes it, his smile is brighter than the Qatari sun. The team swarms him, and you hang back, letting him soak in this moment with the people who've worked so hard to make this possible.

When he finally breaks free and spots you, his face lights up even more. He rushes over, sweeping you into a tight embrace.

"You did it!" you exclaim, your voice muffled against his race suit. "Your first win, Oscar! I'm so proud of you!"

Oscar pulls back, his eyes shining with. "We did it," he corrects you, just as he did after Silverstone.

You laugh, wiping away happy tears. "Well this is just the beginning. Next stop, Grand Prix victory."

May 5, 2024. Miami Grand Prix.

The air in Oscar's driver's room is heavy with disappointment. You watch as he paces back and forth, still in his race suit, his face a mixture of frustration and barely contained anger.

The race had started so promisingly - Oscar had taken the lead early on and was driving beautifully. But then, a collision forced him into an unscheduled pit stop for a new front wing, dropping him down the order and out of contention for a podium finish.

"I had it," Oscar mutters, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. "I was leading the race, I had the pace. If it wasn't for that idiot..."

You step closer, your heart aching for him. "I know, baby. You were driving amazingly out there."

Oscar stops pacing and looks at you, his eyes filled with disappointment. "It's not fair. We've worked so hard, the car was perfect, and then..."

He trails off, shaking his head. You close the distance between you, gently taking his hands in yours. "Hey, look at me," you say softly.

Oscar meets your gaze, and you can see the vulnerability behind his frustration.

"You're right, it's not fair," you continue. "But that's racing sometimes. What matters is how you come back from this. And you will come back from this, stronger than ever."

"I just... I wanted this so badly."

You pull him into a hug, feeling him slowly relax against you. "I know. And your time will come, Oscar. This doesn't change how talented you are or how hard you've worked. It's just a bump in the road."

May 26th, 2024. Monaco Grand Prix.

The streets of Monaco buzz with anticipation for one the most important races in the Formula 1 calendar. For Oscar, this was his second time racing in Monaco, and the excitement was palpable.

From your spot in the McLaren hospitality suite, you had the perfect view of the circuit. Oscar thought you were back home, watching from the living room, but you couldn't miss this race. You wanted to see him shine on this iconic track.

You had coordinated with the team to keep your presence a surprise. As Oscar has his last quiet moments in his driver room before the preparations started, you sent him a quick text: "Good luck, love. Drive fast, be safe. I'll be cheering you on from home!"

Oscar's response was immediate. "Thanks, babe. I miss you. Wish you were here, but I'll bring home a trophy for you."

You smiled, knowing that he was in for a big surprise.

The race began, and Oscar quickly settled into a rhythm. He defended his P2 position until the checkered flag waved.

The team erupted in cheers, and you felt tears of joy streaming down your face. It was his third podium finish, and it was in Monaco of all places.

Oscar climbed out of his car, waving to the cheering crowd, his face glowing with joy and relief. As he stood on the podium, spraying champagne and celebrating with Charles and Carlos, you made your way down to the team area.

When the podium celebrations were over, and Oscar was heading back to the garage, you waited for the perfect moment. As he turned the corner, you stepped out, catching his eye.

"Oscar!" you called out, your voice carrying over the noise of the paddock.

He froze, his eyes widening in surprise. "What are you doing here?" he exclaimed, a huge grin spreading across his face as he rushed over to you.

"I couldn't miss this. I had to see you race in Monaco," you threw your arms around him, laughing.

Oscar hugged you tightly, lifting you off your feet. "You sneaky little... I can't believe you're here!"

"Congratulations, baby. You were incredible out there," you pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes.

"This... this is amazing. Thank you for being here. It means everything to me."

"I wouldn't have missed it for the world," you replied, kissing him softly.

July 7th, 2024. British Grand Prix

Oscar had been more motivated than ever. After finishing second the previous week in Austria, he was eager to claim his first Grand Prix victory, and what better place than Silverstone.

He started strong, fighting his way to the front and eventually taking the lead. The team was buzzing with excitement; victory seemed within reach.

But then, disaster struck. A poorly timed pit stop strategy caused Oscar to lose crucial positions. Despite his best efforts, he crossed the finish line in P4. It was his best finish at Silverstone but not the victory he had hoped for.

Later that day back at Oscar's apartment you watched him pace back and forth. He finally stopped and leaned against the window, staring out into the night. His shoulders were tense, and his jaw was set in frustration. The silence was deafening.

"What's on your mind?" you asked softly, breaking the silence.

Oscar didn't turn around. "I don't want to talk about it," he muttered.

You stood up and walked over to him, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. "I know you're upset. But sometimes talking helps."

He sighed deeply and turned to face you, his eyes filled with frustration and disappointment. "I was leading the race. I could have won. My first victory, right here at Silverstone. And it slipped away because of a stupid strategy call."

You reached out and took his hand, squeezing it reassuringly. "It wasn't your fault, Oscar. You drove an amazing race. Everyone saw how talented you are."

"But it doesn't change the fact that I could have won," he said, his voice cracking with frustration. "I've been waiting for this moment my whole life, and it was right there. And now... I don't know when I'll get another chance like this."

You pulled him into a tight hug, feeling his body tense before he finally relaxed against you. "Your time will come. I know it will. You've shown everyone what you're capable of, and there will be other races, other chances. This is just one race in a long career."

Oscar pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes. "I just wanted it so badly. To win here, in front of the home crowd... it would have meant everything."

"I know," you said softly. "And you'll get there. Maybe not today, but soon. And when you do, it'll be even sweeter because of everything you've gone through to get there."

July 21, 2024. Hungary Grand Prix

The Hungaroring buzzed with excitement as the cars lined up on the grid. Oscar, starting from the front row, felt a mixture of determination and nervous energy. As the lights went out, he got a perfect start, pulling away cleanly from the pack.

Lap after lap, Oscar maintained his lead. The team's excitement grew with each passing circuit. This could be it - his first Grand Prix victory.

However, as the race progressed, pit stop strategies began to shake up the order. After a particularly well-timed stop, Lando emerged just ahead of him. The tension in the McLaren garage was palpable.

Soon, team radio crackled to life. Reminding both drivers about strategies, and particularly asking Lando to give the position to Oscar, creating tension both on and off track.

In the final laps, Lando finally relented. He moved slightly wide in a corner, allowing Oscar to slip past. Oscar crossed the finish line first, claiming his maiden Grand Prix victory.

The team erupted in cheers, but the celebration felt somewhat muted. As Oscar climbed out of his car in parc fermé, his face was hard to read.

As you watched Oscar ascend the podium, your heart swelled with pride. Despite the complicated circumstances of his win, seeing him stand on the top step, the Australian national anthem playing in his honor, was a dream come true.

The champagne spray began, and you couldn't help but smile as Oscar, Lando, and Lewis doused each other in celebration. For a moment, the tension seemed to melt away as the three drivers laughed and enjoyed the moment.

As Oscar descended from the podium, his eyes immediately sought you out in the crowd. You managed to catch him just before he was whisked away for interviews.

"Congratulations, champ," you said, pulling him into a quick embrace.

Oscar hugged you tightly, his race suit still damp with champagne. "Thank you for being here," he murmured against your ear.

You pulled back, searching his face. "How are you feeling?"

A flicker of emotion crossed his features. "I'm not sure yet. I need to process everything."

"I understand," you nodded. "Go do your interviews. We'll talk properly later."

Oscar's eyes softened. He glanced around quickly, then leaned in and gave you a quick kiss. "Love you, see you after."

Hours later, after all the media obligations and team debriefs were over, Oscar finally made his way back to the McLaren hospitality area.

As he entered the room, his eyes immediately sought you out. You were there, beaming with pride, and the sight of you seemed to melt away some of his conflicted feelings.

"There's my champion," you said softly as he approached.

Oscar's face broke into a genuine smile, the first one since he'd crossed the finish line. He pulled you into a tight embrace, burying his face in your neck.

"I did it," he murmured against your skin. "I actually did it."

You pulled back slightly to look at him, cupping his face in your hands. "You did. And I am so incredibly proud of you, Oscar."

His eyes searched yours, vulnerability evident in his gaze. "It wasn't exactly how I imagined my first win would be," he admitted.

"I know," you nodded, understanding in your voice. "But that doesn't make it any less of an achievement. You drove brilliantly today, from start to finish."

"I just wish... I wish it had been a clean fight to the end, you know?" Oscar sighed, leaning his forehead against yours, "Without the team orders and all that."

"Hey," you said, making him meet your eyes again. "This is Formula 1. It's rarely ever straightforward. What matters is that you proved yourself out there today. You're a Grand Prix winner now, and no one can take that away from you."

A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "When did you get so wise?"

"Oh, I've always been wise. You're just finally starting to notice," you teased, earning a chuckle from him.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "For always being here, for believing in me even when things get complicated."

"Always," you promised, leaning in to kiss him softly.

The kiss deepened, both of you pouring your emotions into it - your pride and joy, his relief and love. When you finally parted, Oscar was smiling more brightly.

"So, Grand Prix winner," you grinned, "ready to go celebrate properly?"

[ms-demeanor]

Can you offer any advice for avoiding hoarding when part of the problem is that trying to deal with the clutter and garbage and dirt causes paralyzing anxiety? I want my house to be clean and cluttered because it's stuff I like, but instead it's full of trash and stuff that had a place but doesn't seem to fit back in it after being used.

I can absolutely offer advice about that.

Short TL;DR:

Select the room you want to clean and make a map of it.

Divide the room into small segments like "top of desk" or "cabinet under sink" or even "half of junk drawer." SMALL segments.

Designate bags "trash," "donate," and "consider later."

Schedule a time to work on cleaning each segment, don't just assume "i'll do it next week." Write down an assigned day for each area.

Go into your target area and sort things into those bags.

Optionally, create a bag for memento items to put into a specific memento box/book.

Take bags out of the space when they are full to make more room to work and to see progress.

Do the section for the day and stop. Don't get overwhelmed by a ton of stuff, stop when you've done what you planned for the day (unless you've got good momentum built up and continuing will energize you.)

Long TL;DR:

Go someplace where you are not looking at the mess. You want to draw a map of the room, but you do not want to be in the room. Work one room at a time.

Divide the area you want to clean into very small spaces. You aren't cleaning an entire desk, you are cleaning one drawer of a desk.

Take three containers with you for each section: one trash bag, one donation bag, and one bag of stuff to consider later.

Plan out time to work on the space. Don't say "I'll do the whole thing this weekend" or "I'll get to it after the holidays," sit down and write out a schedule. There's a version of this called 40 bags in 40 days that people do for lent (that was the version of this i first found and followed the first time i did it), but you could do it in ten days, or a hundred, just try to stick to working on each segment on the day it's scheduled.

In each space, keep the stuff that's obviously meant to go there in that space, so if you're cleaning a desk drawer and it has a stapler in it, the stapler can stay there but if the staples and paper clips and rubber bands are a mess put that stuff into the "consider later" bin. Same thing with papers; if you've got a bunch of papers and you may need to keep some and may need to trash some, put them in the "consider later"

THERE IS AN OPTIONAL BIN FOR PEOPLE WHO WANT TO HANG ON TO A MILLION MEMENTOS AND CONCERT TICKETS AND SUCH. I make them by getting gallon freezer bags and filling them up with business cards and concert programs and scraps of wrapping paper and birthday cards. This isn't quite "consider later" because it's probably stuff you know you want to keep, this is "I don't have a home for this thing right now but it's not trash" so this is a temporary home for that category.

Remove stuff from the space as you work. As you fill up a bag of trash or consider later or donate, take it out of the space so you aren't looking at it and you can see the progress you're making on the space.

Do each section as you come to it on your schedule and then call it quits. If you cleaned out the counter next to the sink and that was your area for the day, you don't have to worry about the area under the sink unless you have the energy and enthusiasm for it.

Philosophical musing about why this works

The reason this kind of plan works (for me) is by pre-managing several things. You know you're working with a limited area, you know what you're going to do with the stuff you find in that area (put it in one of your bags or leave it where it is if it belongs in that area), you're working on a limited time so this can't stretch out forever it's just a little chunk, you're thinking about the space as you build your plan so you're visualizing the anxiety inducing thing outside of the space that actually gives you the anxiety which hopefully allows you to detach slightly from the anxiety, and you're getting your steps lined up ahead of time so there's no muddle of "what do i do now, how do I get started" - you get started by grabbing your bags and you go to that day's scheduled section.

The whole thing is constructed to prevent you from getting overwhelmed.

I used to try to clean my room as a kid and I would find something that needed to get put away but I didn't know where it went so I'd spend a bunch of time trying to make a space for it and I'd end up getting lost in the weeds of imagining how I'd use the item and if the new place for it was accessible, and oh look at the items that I found in this other place where I was going to put this item and this method cuts off all of that. Where I am putting the item is in the bag, where it is going is the "consider later" pile and when I've cleared out most of the space I can consider where things go when I've gathered all the uncertain things into one place instead of continually unearthing them and disrupting the process of going through stuff.

What it means to Consider Later

The reason you're working room by room is because you should be isolating the consider later pile by room. If you're cleaning out the bedroom you may end up with stuff that belongs in the kitchen or the office, but you'll end up with a lot of stuff that belongs in the bedroom. When you've worked through all your segments, you can sort the consider later pile and now that you have all the objects together, you can consider whether some of them belong together in a space in the room.

For instance, when I first did this there were a lot of books that needed to go on bookshelves, but my bookshelves weren't accessible in the early parts of the process. So books from the floor and the bed and the nightstand went into the consider later pile and after the whole floor was clear and there was no trash on my desk and all the books I was donating had been pulled from my bookshelves, I was able to organize all of my books at once instead of stumbling across a book every four minutes and trying to shelve it.

That's what spawned the memento bags for me; there was a ton of stuff in my consider later bags that didn't precisely have a place but weren't trash and needed a place made for them. If I'd struggled to find where each item went as I cleaned it would have completely stalled me out.

I kept finding yarn as I went but I didn't have a dedicated yarn spot, so I just put yarn in the consider later pile and at the end I found a basket for it and put it on a shelf in the closet that had been cleared out when I'd donated old clothes. If I had tried to find a spot for the yarn before donating the clothes, I would have had to move it once the better spot opened up, so saving all the consider later stuff for later saved me from having to move stuff several times.

If you're in a small space or if you're living with people and you can't make a pile of stuff in another room for two weeks, at the very least remove the trash and donation bags as you go and designate an area for your consider later pile; maybe a laundry basket or something similar so that you can keep it mobile as you clean.

It's kind of like moving in to a new space. When you move in to an empty room, you have all your stuff in boxes and you need to figure out where it goes and that can take a while, but it's sometimes easier to find a place to put things in a new environment than it is to put things back "where they belong" because maybe you've added a dozen skeins to your collection and they don't belong in the little yarn bag anymore.

What to trash, what to donate, and what to consider later

Trash should be immediately obvious as trash. Anything that is trash goes in the trash bag right away.

If you find yourself thinking "but I might use this plastic fork that came with my value meal," or "this receipt may be important," put it in the consider later pile and don't think about it right now.

The donate bag should be for stuff that will still be useful for someone, but won't be useful for you. Clothes that you don't like, books you hated and won't re-read, toys you don't want to keep, all of that goes in the donate pile. If you think you might want to keep a piece of clothing but you want to make sure it doesn't fit, don't stop to try it on now just put it in the consider later pile and you can sort it into the donate bag later.

"Consider later" is for anything that requires more than thirty seconds of thought or effort to handle. If you're looking at your desk and you've got a keyboard for your computer on your desk that keyboard is staying there and doesn't need to be considered. If there's an empty takeout cup on your desk, that cup is going in the trash and doesn't need to be considered. If there's a receipt for your computer sitting on your desk, you may want to save that for record-keeping purposes but may not have a place to put it, so that is what you consider later.

Some guidelines on what is or is not trash

You might look at a sturdy plastic cup from a gas station and say "that isn't trash, I could use that, that's still good" but unless you have a specific purpose in mind for it right now, that is trash. If you wouldn't put it in a donation box to be used for some ambiguous future purpose, you don't need to keep it.

If you have a specific purpose in mind, like using an old milk jug to make a watering pitcher for your plants, it may not be trash. But only ONE is not trash; more than that is trash.

If you wouldn't need to have a hard copy of a paper and you have an electronic copy, it is trash. This means receipts for most everyday purchases like groceries and fast food. Don't keep receipts for items past their return period, don't keep receipts for items that you have a digital copy of unless that item cost over $1000.

Nice cardboard boxes (or good glass jars, or sturdy plastic takeout boxes, or cleaned food containers) that you don't have a use for are trash (or recycling, depending on where you live, but still in the trash category).

If you know someone who is specifically looking for an item (like maybe the neighbor kids are asking for cardboard tubes for a science project, or you work with a meal delivery group that could use extra packets of takeout utensils, or you have a friend who is into canning and has asked for jars, or if you make your own soup stock and need containers to put it in, or if you have a friend who is moving and needs lots of good cardboard boxes) then these items don't *have* to be trash but if you are just keeping them in your space and not giving them to people who want them or putting them to use yourself, they are just trash in your space and you should throw them away.

Memory Books/Memento Bags

I make memory books out of the little items i collect into one gallon storage bags. They allow me to hang onto the stuff that I want to keep because it brings me good memories without having a pile of random junk and sometimes without having to keep the item, or having to keep the whole item.

If the thing I want to keep because it brings me good memories is bulky, perhaps I can take a put a picture of that item to put in the book. If it is a worn out shirt, perhaps I can cut a patch off the shirt to put it in the book. If it is a card, perhaps I can cut out just the front of the card, or I can almost certainly just throw away the envelope and put the card in the book.

If you have things that do *not* fit into the memory book, like costume jewelry or rocks or a weird toy you got out of a coin machine on a really fun family vacation, you can also make a memory box; I have some of these and they've got a bunch of truly random crap in them, but I *like* having the nametag from the four hours that I worked at Denny's, or the keychain from when my mom took me to the morgue training class. It's fine to like these things, and to keep many of them, but you want to keep them someplace that they won't stress you out; that might be a display case for nice things, but it also might be a pretty velvet bag that you periodically pull out of a drawer and sort through like a magpie, or a wooden box that you painted.

You can also be selective about this stuff. You don't need every piece of costume jewelry your grandmother owned; keep the pieces you really like or the ones you have strong memories of or the ones that are very nice or the ones that are in good shape. But look, my mom was a teacher and she had a wide variety of goofy holiday jewelry that she wore in the classroom and I don't need to hang onto that. I don't need the big plastic ghost earrings that won't fit in my plugs, but I'll hang onto the spider brooch. She collected cheap watches - I don't need all of her four dollar watches, I can keep the nice ones, or the one that she got for ten years at her job. Do the same thing with stuffed animals and baby clothes and magazines and children's books. You don't need to keep all of it, and keeping all of it isn't going to help you remember that time more, or remember that person better.

Do you really want to keep it or do you feel obligated?

Youtuber Caroline Winkler (who has some great videos about home organization that I like a lot, in particular "this is why your home is a mess" - with the caveat that she likes closed storage and my ADHD ass loves open storage) has a really great tip on getting rid of stuff that works a LOT better for me than the Marie Kondo "Does this spark joy?" question and it's the Red Wine Test. Instead of asking if an item sparks joy, you ask yourself "If a bottle of red wine spilled on this (or if it was in some other way damaged) how hard would I try to fix it?" If you wouldn't try very hard, or if you would be *relieved* then you can get rid of that item. If one of the Venom mugs I have on the shelf fell down and broke, I wouldn't try hard to fix it. If my cat stuffed animal from when I was a kid tore open, I would immediately be looking for my sewing kit.

.... I should recycle those cheap teal glasses, actually.

Some general tips that may help to get you started that work for me and my ADHD and may work for you and your anxiety:

Start a timer for a short time. You don't have to clean your whole house, you are just going to pick up for five minutes. Then you can stop, and you only have to face a *little* bit of the anxiety.

5-4-3-2-1-go. Don't overthink it, count down quickly and then get up and do something. Keep going in as long a spurt as you can manage without getting too upset, but cutting down on the time for pre-game fretting might help with the anxiety.

Do the smallest amount possible. You don't have to clean this room, you just have to take one dish to the sink. You don't have to do all the dishes, you can just unload part of the top tray of the dishwasher.

Some general tips on trying to keep a space clean:

First, encouragement: It is a lot easier to maintain a clean space than it is to create one.

If you're thinking that something needs to be done and it can take you under five minutes to do it and it's right in front of you, do it. I do this with my dishwasher. It turns out unloading the dishwasher is the main thing that stalls me on dishes and keeps my sink full, so now when I'm waiting for the kettle or letting my tea steep, I unload whatever I can get done in that time. If I have the vacuum out and I did my living room but the hall and the bedroom could use a quick pass too, I vacuum them while I've got the machine in my hand.

Set success traps. Success traps are things that let you fall into succeeding by front-loading the effort (or executive function) of cleaning with planning. Trash collects in your living space? Put a bunch of little trash cans everywhere. Cleaning your bathroom takes extra time because you have to go get glass cleaner and paper towels from another room? Keep a bottle of glass cleaner and a roll of paper towels under the sink. You never sweep because it is a pain in the ass to get the broom out of the broom closet? Hang the broom from a mount in the kitchen. It takes too long to clean the counter because you have to pick up a bunch of makeup brushes and bottles and soap? Put that shit on a tray and now you only have to move one thing to clean the counter.

And for your specific question, with "things never seem to quite fit back where they came from" sounds like you're playing storage tetris, which is when things have a place and it is a *very specific and exact* place that doesn't have a lot of room around it. You may need to think about downsizing for your space, or, more likely, think about more efficient storage. That Caroline Winkler video I linked has some tips on this ("don't store things in a way that will make you angry like putting your common use objects on an out of reach shelf or you'll never put things back because it's hard to put them back" and "maximize your weirdo spaces" speak to your situation, i think) that I've put into use, particularly in my kitchen. It was hard to keep the counter clear because it was hard to put my stand mixer away because the rack for the stand mixer had a wok and a bunch of cast iron pans and a panini press and a chafing dish on it; I put the panini press and the least-used cast iron and the chafing dish and the wok in a more out-of-the way cabinet (because i basically never use them but they're very useful when I need them) and now that shelf has a little grill, my more commonly used cast iron, and my stand mixer so putting away the stand mixer is a lot less effort so my counter stays clear. I wasn't using the top shelf of my dish cabinet for dishes because it's too high up for daily use, but it's perfect for the rice cooker, waffle maker, and food processor that I use less than my dishes but more than my george forman grill.

And anyway, the TL;DR for all of that:

Work a little bit at a time, be nice to yourself, don't keep things that aren't worth keeping, and configure your storage in a way that works for you (by keeping your lifestyle, the way you use things, and how easy it is to put away into account before deciding that's where something lives).

Good luck!

[theawkwardvirgin]

My advice is to focus on characters. Once you know who they are and how they’d behave/react to something, it’s a lot easier to get an actual plot. And as a bonus, it’ll make a lot more sense and be in-character, instead of having an end-point and trying to force your characters to reach it.

Idk if this is too broad of a scope for this blog, but if you could answer this, it'd be great.

I've been in a writing rut since I started getting serious about writing, and I've identified the issue in the past month or so: I slant heavily on the gardener end of the writing spectrum and all the advice on writing I've ever seen was for architect-style writing. Not once in the eight years I've been serious about writing did I find any guides on gardener-style writing (and if it says it's gardener-style, it'sreally just architect-style with gardner aspects), and my experience has just been more or less jamming a square peg into a circle hole, getting nothing written and feeling bad about it.

Now I'm unlearning all the architect-style habits that are destructive to me as a writer, but I can't find any resources for gardeners aside from Stephen King's On Writing. If you or any of your followers know how to help a gardener's writing, that would be great. I have so many fic ideas I want to write, but can't since I'm learning to write all over again.

For those who don't know what gardener and architect refer to when it comes to writers, a gardener is a writer who starts with the seed of an idea and lets it grow in whatever direction the light shines. They prune it and weed it as they go but otherwise let the idea lead the way. An architect, on the other hand, plans their stories out first and then writes them. They have a structure and the details all mapped out first and then the writing is just executing on that vision.

As a gardener myself, my biggest piece of advice is to avoid writing advice. Like you've said, the majority of it is aimed at people who do things like plan and plot and worldbuild ahead of time. Because of the structure that that writing style enjoys, providing "one size fits most" writing advice works well for it.

I tend to find a lot of that advice to be counter to what I need to do. Planning a story out ahead just makes me feel like it's already written. Building out the world before I start writing it feels like a hollow exercise - more like writing an encyclopedia than developing a land and culture for my characters to inhabit.

What I find useful is taking an episodic approach to writing. The entire story will be like a season of a television show and each chapter is like one episode. I always have my eventual "season finale" end goal in mind, but any particular chapter can meander closer to or further from that goal. It's alright to take a circuitous route, as long as I get to my destination in the end.

It's also alright if my destination changes as I'm writing. Sometimes those meandering paths take me in a more interesting direction than I was originally going down, and that shifts the story. As long as you're vaguely following a three-act structure (or 5 act or 7 act), the flow of it will feel familiar to your readers and they probably won't really notice it happening.

This advice I'm giving might not ring true to you either. You didn't have a specific problem to address, so I've been wandering a bit in my reply. Really what it comes down to is paying attention to yourself and your needs. Figure out what it is that keeps you writing and what it is that makes you stop. Do more of the former and less of the latter - and don't worry if what you're doing is "weird" to someone else.

I write directly into the AO3 window (which AO3 specifically tells you NOT to do, btw) because drafting first in google docs or something takes the fun out of it for me. I post my chapters without previewing them first. I write in 800 to 1500 word sprints, and I focus on dialogue, and I almost always try to end on a joke or a pun or a cliffhanger. These are all things that make writing an activity that I want to do.

I can't really say anything much more specific given your ask, but I hope something in here was helpful. Let's see if any gardeners out there have some resources or advice that might work for you.

[erwinsvow]

You creep carefully into Rafe’s bedroom, pushing the already-open door gently with your palm. Your eyes dart around, worried he’s going to be just around the corner, but you’re greeted with nothing—just the empty space that belongs to Rafe.

How exactly did you get yourself into this? It had started a few hours ago—at least that’s what you thought. You didn’t have any clue what Sarah and her new friends were up to, you were just over for a pre-planned girls night that was dismissed the second you walked into Tannyhill. Instead, Sarah asks for a favor, one that you deny almost immediately.

“You’ll be in and out, it won’t take more than a minute-”

“I am not sneaking into Rafe’s room for you, Sarah. What if he-he catches me? Finds me in there? What am I gonna say?”

“He’s not gonna be home later, I promise. It’ll be a second, and he’s always liked you most out of all my friends so he won’t even care-”

Your face flushes at the very sentence. Her brother, Rafe, the one that you’ve only interacted with on chance occasions, the one who makes your heartbeat speed up anytime he’s in the vicinity, that very Rafe, has always liked you? 

You’re too caught up in that thought and its implications to even question Sarah anymore. Her new friends—Pogue friends, ones that you don’t know and aren’t sure how long they’ve known her—linger by the door. They seem eager to make sure that you agree. 

You’re being moved around the board like a chess piece but you can’t find it in yourself to care. It’s shallow, you know, as one thought circulates through your mind, body, and bloodstream—Rafe has always liked you. 

A hazy, dreamy mist settles over you. You agree to Sarah, feeling increasingly stupid as you settle into the living room and keep your eyes on the television. She left with her friends, and when Rafe comes down, you’re supposed to tell him you’re waiting for his sister. Once he leaves, you need to sneak into his bedroom to find a map they seem to desperately need. One of the boys suggests it’ll be in his sock drawer.

“It’s not a porn magazine, JJ, why would it be there-”

“Oh, um, I don’t know, just that it’s the number one male hiding spot-” “What studies are you basing this off of?”

"A little thing called the study of life, Pope-”

You had interrupted them yourself, reassuring that you’ll look in his dresser and his desk. 

But now, walking into Rafe’s bedroom, you're losing all your nerve. You’ve thought about this before—you’d be lying to yourself to deny it. Any girl who has a best friend with a cute older brother has too. In the summers you sleep at Tannyhill more often than your own house, but you still could have never imagined this would be the reason you’re in Rafe’s room for the first time.

The house is silent, just like Sarah had told you. Mr. and Mrs. Cameron out at the country club, Wheezie at the beach, Sarah supposedly with you but actually with those Pogues. She says Rafe is gone too, driving around somewhere with his friends, and you believe her without a second thought.

But you do have a second thought, and it's the fact that this is so beyond wrong.

Looking through Rafe’s belongings with your eyes, your hands start to tremble at the idea of touching something of his without his permission. You want to swallow your nerves to do this for your friend, but you hesitate, hands hovering over the drawer to his dresser.

For a second, you want to puke, worried that you’ll open this drawer to find porn magazines like John B had said, or worse—photos of one of his girls that you really don’t want to see. 

Your shaking hands pull open the top-most drawer, but everything calms down once it’s open. Besides for white socks and plaid boxers, there’s nothing in there. Your shoulders relax, your knees feeling weak.

Then you wonder for a second—why were you so worried about finding evidence of some other girl in his bedroom? Your mind spins briefly, worried at how attached you really are to Sarah’s brother, someone who’s never spoken to you more than a handful of times. A million thoughts run through your brain, all of them about Rafe and none of them noticing the way his bedroom door has just opened wide.

“Looking for something?” The timber of Rafe’s voice hits your ears and you freeze, probably looking like something out of a cartoon, shoulders tense, eyes wide. You’re still facing his dresser, and you really, really don’t want to turn, but you do, and then you wish you hadn’t.

Rafe’s dripping wet—damp hair sticking to his forehead, a towel around his waist and droplets of water glittering on his abs. He’s looking at you like he never has before. Your eyes are focused on everything else—the bare skin of his chest, his huge arms, the blue color of his towel.

“My eyes are up here, kid.” 

Like a deer caught in headlights, you turn your gaze up to lock eyes. You’re terrified—he has to be angry, no, furious. You’re practically a stranger to him, a stranger invading his privacy. But when you finally take in his expression, it’s not angry. He looks amused, a smirk playing at his lips while he takes you in, standing before him like a child about to be reprimanded for touching something that doesn’t belong to them. 

“I-I…” you trail off, swallowing hard, still staring at Rafe.

“You, you?” he mocks. You think you’re going to start crying but no tears well up—yet. “What’re you looking for?” he asks it seriously, his tone shifting. 

You’ve never spoken to Rafe enough to notice, but he’s incredibly domineering. You shrink just from his gaze, while he closes the door and walks closer to you. 

“Um, I-” You stop yourself short.

“Looking for trouble, huh?” He says it like it’s a joke, but you know he’s not kidding. Your head shakes, trying to convince him you’re not, but it’s not much use.

He’s not very far from you now, maybe another foot and you could smell the scent of his soap, another few inches and you could feel the heat radiating off of his bare body. 

You realize how you must look right now, wearing a tiny dress because of the heat outside but now feeling goosebumps prick along your arms. Your bare feet rest on his carpet while your hands feel clammy from how scared you are.

“I, uh, I needed socks.” You look down at your feet and he does too, looking back up at the same time. 

“Socks? From me?”

“Couldn’t find Sarah’s. She needs to do laundry.”

“So you came in here to get mine?”

“I-I’ll bring them back. Washed. Promise.” Your gaze is now dying to avoid his, looking all around his room and then turning back to the drawer to take out a pair. 

You feel a wet hand on your arm, turning you back around at full force, his balled up socks falling from your hand as you stare Rafe in the eyes. He must be able to tell from the way your body shakes in his grip, how your eyelids are fluttering fast, how scared you are.

“Don’t lie to me, kid. I won’t like it.” You suck in a sharp breath. A few moments pass.

“I’m not lying, Rafe. Promise.”

You actually don’t know it happens—ending up with his towel on the floor and your sundress right next to it, tangled up in the sheets, your body folded in half with Rafe pounding into you. He grips your cheeks and fucks you like you’re his, like he owns your pussy and every other part of you. It goes on for so long you lose track, forgetting everything else but how to say Rafe’s name, remembering nothing but how he sounded groaning into your ear. He kisses you, hard and wet, and that’s when you cum for the third—fourth? fifth? you’ve lost track—time. He cums too—inside you, and normally you think you’d maybe have an issue with that, but since you were the one begging for it, you don’t think you’re allowed to say anything in the way of a complaint.

Rafe rolls off of you a little bit later, after you’ve had a chance to catch your breath. You think he’s gonna tell you to get out so you try to get up yourself, trying to balance on trembling legs, when he puts his hand on your waist and steadies you back onto the bed.

“What’d you need? You should sit.” You look up at him, surprised. He doesn’t like it. “Water?” You nod, and he pulls on some sweatpants and forgoes a shirt, walking out and closing the door softly behind him. 

You get comfortable under Rafe’s sheets, pulling them up to cover yourself and body sinking into his bed. You reach out to find your phone, which has somehow ended up on the nightstand even though you don’t recall putting it there. There’s a few new messages. 

Sarah: Did you go in yet?

Sarah: I think he left, go now!!

Then one from thirty minutes after that.

Sarah: Did you find it?? Call me!!

You reply quickly, setting the phone down when you hear Rafe’s hand on the doorknob.

Sorry, didn’t find anything. Had to go, I’ll see you tomorrow.

[ice-man-goes-bwoah]

Among us||f1 grid x gender neutral reader

Featuring—Max v, Charles L, Carlos S, Alex A, Lando N, Daniel r

Summary— y/n plays among us with a group of f1 drivers

Word count — 593

Y/N adjusted their headset, feeling a mix of excitement and mild nervousness. Playing Among Us with a bunch of Formula 1 drivers wasn’t how they’d planned to spend their evening, but when Lando had invited them, promising “utter chaos,” they couldn’t resist. Now, sitting in the Discord call, they listened as the drivers bantered in the pre-game lobby.

“Alright, Y/N,” Lando began, his voice laced with mischief. “Are you one of those sneaky liars who convinces everyone you’re innocent, or are you the type who just gets voted out for no reason?”

Y/N smirked. “I guess you’ll have to find out.”

“That’s code for ‘I’m gonna cause problems,’” Daniel said with a laugh.

Max, ever the serious one, cut in. “Can we just play? If everyone sticks to a proper strategy, this will be easy.”

“Max, it’s Among Us, not chess,” Alex said, rolling his eyes.

The game began, and the group dispersed across the map. Y/N found themselves trailing behind Charles he was heading to electrical while y/n headed to the reactor They weren’t the Impostor this round, but they figured sticking close to Charles would be entertaining—he panicked over everything.

Moments later, Daniel’s voice boomed through the Discord call. “DEAD BODY IN ELECTRICAL!”

The meeting began with Daniel’s dramatic declaration. “Alright, who’s sus?”

“Daniel,” Lando said immediately. “You always report bodies to look innocent.”

“What? That doesn’t even make sense!” Daniel shot back.

“Actually,” Max interjected, “it does make sense. He could be self-reporting.”

Y/N leaned into their microphone. “Or maybe he’s just doing his civic duty. Unlike some of you…”

“Okay, okay,” Carlos interrupted, trying to calm the storm. “Let’s be logical. Who was near Electrical?”

“I was!” Charles blurted out. “But I didn’t kill anyone—I swear! I was doing wires!”

Lando snorted. “Charles, you always say you’re doing wires. Are there infinite wires in this game?”

“I was doing wires!” Charles insisted, his voice climbing an octave. “Why don’t you believe me?”

“Because you’re panicking,” Y/N said with a smirk. “Overexplaining much?”

Charles gasped. “What?! No, I just—”

“Y/N has a point,” Lando said, pouncing. “Charles is totally sus. Everyone vote him.”

“Wait!” Carlos said, his tone urgent. “We don’t have enough information. We should skip!”

“That’s what someone protecting an Impostor would say,” Daniel accused.

“What? No, I’m just trying to be logical!”

“Or maybe you’re the Impostor,” Alex said, his voice suspicious. “You’re playing mediator while secretly murdering everyone.”

Y/N grinned. Time to stir the pot. “Actually, Alex, you’re deflecting a lot right now. Kinda sus.”

Alex sputtered. “WHAT?! No, I’m not—”

“I did notice Alex acting weird in Cafeteria earlier,” Max said.

“Guys!” Alex pleaded. “I swear, I didn’t do anything!”

“Look,” Lando said. “It’s obviously Charles. He’s freaking out.”

“I always panic!” Charles cried. “That’s my default setting!”

In the end, the votes stacked against Charles. As the screen revealed the results, Charles groaned.

“You’re all going to regret this,” he said darkly.

“Sure we will,” Y/N said with mock sympathy.

The screen flashed: Charles was not the Impostor.

The Discord call erupted in laughter.

“Charles!” Lando howled. “You’re the worst at defending yourself.”

“This is slander,” Charles muttered. “I hope the Impostor gets you all.”

Y/N leaned back in their chair, satisfied. “Well, at least we’re one step closer to figuring it out.”

“Unless you’re the Impostor,” Daniel said suspiciously.

“Who, me?” Y/N said innocently. “I would never.”

“Sure you wouldn’t,” Alex muttered. “But if I go out next, I’m haunting you.”

[togglesbloggle]

We're in the early hype cycle for Civ 7, which is all well and good- Civ is Civ, it's gonna be amazing and completely destroy large chunks of global productivity for a while. They're doing an unusually good job of targeting me in particular this time- the "build something you believe in" ad copy is one of those sentiments that has root access to my brain.

But anyway, sifting through the pre-release details has me thinking again about the... I guess you'd call it a 4x game still, but the game that part of me always wishes Civ was. I think a lot of people probably have a sort of personal 'Civ Prime' in their heads, actually, the secret changes they'd make if it was 'their' game. My own Civ Prime goes like this:

Actually-existing Civ always takes the stance that cultures create persons; you build a settler, send it off to some promising river valley, and plonk down a town. The glorious leader then directs the citizens to harvest and cultivate the fertile land around them, and surpluses of food allow the population to grow.

As a corollary, the map in actually-existing Civ starts out nearly empty; aside from a few barbarian camps and city states (or in Civ 7, the 'independent settlements'), the area outside your borders is in a pristine state of nature. And that's all well and good for game purposes, but in "my" Civ I'd reverse this entirely: civilization, not as some supra-human entity that creates and defines humans, but as a narrative that structures their identities and guides their values.

Consider a hex map of the usual sort, but the yields per tile are the local surplus, that is, the amount that tax collectors can extract from the people indigenous to that location without killing them. You begin play at the dawn of agriculture, as a leader/stationary bandit with enough military support and personal legitimacy to enforce those taxes, funnel the surplus towards a centralized urban center, and direct it towards military, priest, or artisan classes. Every hex is a conquest in miniature; at least at first, the size of your territory is directly downstream of your military strength.

That strength is tracked as "Might" or some such civ-wide stat, initially a strict function of how much wealth (that is, grain) that you feed in to it. This represents loosely organized, loyal bravi who are in your employ; they go to hexes you designate, dominate the locals, and render a tile 'productive'. In times of crisis, you can- very temporarily- initiate a levy to make these become traditional army units (and indeed this is the only source of such units, at first). As long as these exist, they are tremendously destructive to any hex they're on, friendly or otherwise, acting as a natural disaster that damages future tile yields for several turns; if every tile around them is already so damaged, they disband automatically. And of course these 'crystalized' forms of Might reduce the 'liquid' Might you have to control tiles, so lengthy wars will also see borders destabilize because you can no longer enforce order in the outer hexes.

But of course military strength isn't the only priority; grain (and later, currency, etc.) sent to the Artisan class allows you to slowly build permanent structures, which have their own bonuses as you'd expect. It's a time-horizon question; investment in Might is a larger immediate bonus, including higher revenues, but wealth spent on infrastructure accumulates.

This is also how you seed new urban areas: Artisans can build things like fortresses, temples, etc. (depending on the initial bonuses that you want) on rural hexes that are distant from existing cities, with tribute from hexes always flowing to the nearest such seed. That wealth in turn supports the new military, industrial, and cultural classes centered on that hex. This can also happen automatically in neutral territories; wherever there are large volumes of unclaimed surplus, NPC urban centers are liable to form at random and begin acting as your opponents.

You can also invest in "Culture," which in the early days generally means a priest caste. And this is where I get a bit clever.

Culture is an umbrella for anything that counts as "an idea", everything from religious formation, to technology, to philosophical ideas and organizing ideologies. There's a base track, mostly 'pure idea' stuff like mysticism and foundational concepts like writing and lawmaking; throw in a few unique ones for your chosen Civ identity (Egyptians get something about handling river flooding, whatever). And every point invested in Might and Artisan classes also helps unlock new ideas to be researched here; once you open those up, they can be researched here with Culture points. All contain some kind of advantage; new types of army units to levvy, new structures to build, higher yields or new types of resources to extract from the map- the usual.

The trick with culture unlocks is, they're not bonuses for you only. Ideas appear in the urban hex where they're researched, but they spread to adjacent hexes at some fixed rate, hopping from tile to tile and stopped only by uninhabited regions like mountain ranges or extreme deserts that don't have a high enough population- and following trade networks from city to city especially quickly. For example, "irrigation" would be an idea that greatly increases grain surpluses in every hex near a river, both for your territory and for neutral or even enemy hexes as it spreads.

As compensation, whenever your ideas spread to a hex, you gain a slowly-decaying bonus on that space called authority, which means that you require less military force to extract its surplus, and it's easier for you to contest the tile against another sovereign. This attenuates with distance from the originating point, but if you're investing in Culture at a good clip, the hexes immediately around your urban centers will be very cheap or even free to extract wealth from. If you're really booking it, hexes will spontaneously submit to you without ever being formally dominated. This creates an "imperial core" dynamic as the game matures, with your military might being concentrated in the provinces, and allows you to extend your reach much further than you otherwise would, extract wealth accordingly, and push yourself in to a virtuous feedback loop / golden age where you snowball outwards with both territorial gains and rapid intellectual progress.

The double-secret trick here is that authority decays; spreading ideas to a tile can only secure its loyalty for so long before they become the 'new normal'. With proper tuning, every civ's "golden age" period would last for a while, but then when it inevitably reached natural barriers or other obstacles, this would reverse into a death spiral. Absent further expansion, authority would begin decaying faster than it was gained, first in the outer provinces; military expansion would give way to managing a cascade of discontent and rebellions, which would further weaken the imperial core- and so on, unto dissolution.

The triple-secret trick is this: rural hexes are just hexes, but when a fully fledged city rebels against the sovereign empire, the player can declare the rebel city to be the 'true inheritor' of their legacy, and jump ship. In other words, you can take either side in a civil war. This switch triggers the legacy empire to become a more passive computer-controlled entity, and gives the emergent civilization a slew of cheap new ideas to promote, rapidly building their own authority- which of course has particular bonuses against their former overlords. Humankind and Civ 7 both implement an "Ages" system to simulate the rise and fall of civilizations over time, but this has the virtue of being a more organic/emergent property. Instead of artificially converting every Roman city in to the HRE in one fell swoop, the HRE emerges from the rotting carcass of Rome at a single point and carves out its own sovereignty by the sword.

And now you face an interesting dilemma while you play: authoritarian social policies like suppressing foreign ideas can secure the longevity of your empire for centuries longer than it might otherwise last, but you know that sooner or later, the empire you're now controlling will be your immediate opponent during a new phase of expansion. Permissive social policies and liberal attitudes to trade and ideas will make that rebirth go further, faster, than it otherwise would. So do you defend the power you have now? Or do you make yourself vulnerable to your own future?

[thewulf]

Easy Skies || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - Feeling cuddly so you end up cuddling Jake for the first time in the early stages of your relationships. How this would lead to them napping together? Nothing but praises and love affirmations between them. Soft kisses. Readers first kiss with Jake.

A/N: Ahhh sorry I've been gone! Been enjoying summer :)

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.7k +

T/W : None just fluff

It’s been several weeks since you and Jake officially started seeing each other. You met at a community event honoring local heroes where Jake shared stories of his missions and the places his career had taken him. Your own interest in aerial photography sparked a quick and deep conversation between the two of you leading to an instant connection.

It was going really well. The two of you taking your time with everything. He shared stories of how we was reckless in the past and you were already very cautionary with types like his. So, you tested him a bit. Only kisses on the cheek, nothing more. And he did passed with flying colors. He never pressured you, never pushed for more. But now you were ready for something more. You're spending a lazy Sunday at Jake’s apartment for the first time. His place reflects his life as a pilot. It was decorated with navigational charts. With different models of aircraft he’s flown and photographs from around the world. The walls hold framed maps marked with the various places he's visited, each one holding a story he's eager to share with you.

As the afternoon fades into evening, you both settle into the comfortable couch in his living room. The soft music playing in the background mixes with the mellow golden light streaming through the windows creating a serene atmosphere. It's a rare and quiet moment for Jake who is usually caught up in the demanding schedule of a Navy pilot. You cherish the peaceful intimacy that has formed between you. Today’s simplicity is a precious contrast to the complexities of your usual routines.

As you both relax into the couch Jake recounts a comical error from his last training exercise. He'd accidentally swapped his day’s checklist with another pilot’s which led to some light-hearted confusion and teasing from his crew.

“You seriously went through half the pre-flight with the wrong list?” you laugh while shaking your head in amusement.

“Yep,” Jake admits with a grin. “It was only when I called out the wrong coordinates that someone caught on. We all had a good laugh about it later.” The conversation winds down as you both sink into the rhythm of each other’s presence, comfortable and at ease. There’s a genuine simplicity in the way you interact, no need for constant chatter. Jake’s job as a pilot often surrounds him with high stakes and rigor making these peaceful moments particularly valuable.

“It’s nice, isn’t it? Just being able to sit and talk without rushing anywhere,” Jake comments. His tone relaxed.

“It really is,” you agree as you smiled over at him. “Especially with good company.”

He returns your smile with a warm, appreciative one of his own. As the room fills with the soft hum of a new song the day closes around you both, cozy and familiar. Like a well-loved jacket that’s been washed a hundred times. It’s easy, it’s comfortable. And right now, it’s exactly what you both need.

As the afternoon shadows stretch across the room a yawn escapes you, shifting the comfortable silence. Jake catches it and chuckles, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “Tired?” he teases before nudging you gently with his elbow.

“Maybe a little,” you admit while stretching your arms above your head. “It’s been a long week.”

Jake nods understandingly. His gaze softening. “How about we take a little nap then? Recharge a bit?”

You playfully raise an eyebrow. A smile tugging at your lips. “Only if you’re joining. I hear you’re the best pillow around here.”

Jake’s laughter fills the room, warm and infectious. “Is that so? Well, I can’t let you down then.” He shifts himself making room on the couch and pats the spot next to him "Come here," he says softly. His voice blending with the low melody. With a contented smile you slide closer until you're nestled against him. Your head resting comfortably on his broad chest. You can feel the steady beat of his heart through the soft fabric of his shirt. A reassuring rhythm that echoes quietly in your ear. Jake's arm wraps securely around you with his hand resting gently on your back. The warmth of his touch and the rise and fall of his chest with each breath he takes bring an overwhelming sense of peace and safety.

For a few moments you simply listen, taking in the sound of his heartbeat and the soft, steady breaths he draws. It's a new level of intimacy of sharing this quiet closeness without the need for words. Jake's hand moves in slow, soothing strokes across your back further relaxing you. With each passing second the world beyond the walls of Jake’s apartment seems to drift further away. You're drawn into this serene bubble where the only things that matter are the soft fabric of the couch, the gentle caress of Jake's hand, and the comforting rhythm of his heart.

Jake breaks the silence with a whisper that's barely audible over the music. "This is nice," he murmurs. His breath tickling your ear. You hum in agreement as you were too content and relaxed to form words. The trust and affection in this simple act of cuddling deepen, marking a beautiful, quiet milestone in your growing relationship.

As the soft jazz continues to play creating a soothing backdrop, the room grows quieter still. The comfort of Jake’s embrace coupled with the warm, gentle atmosphere lulls you deeper into relaxation. His breathing becomes slower, more rhythmic, signaling his own descent into sleep. You feel his grip tighten just a bit. A subconscious affirmation of his presence and protection. Gradually, the space between wakefulness and sleep blurs. Your thoughts drift away, anchored only by the steady heartbeat beneath your ear. In the safety of Jake’s arms sleep seems like the most natural progression. Without planning it you both drift off. The world narrowing down to the couch where you lie together.

The nap isn't long but it’s restorative. Exactly what you needed. As you both sleep there’s an unspoken exchange of trust and comfort. It’s one thing to share conversations and activities but another to share such vulnerability as sleep in each other’s presence. This mutual comfort speaks volumes about the trust and closeness developing between you.

Time slips by quietly and when you eventually stir it’s to the feeling of Jake’s fingers lightly brushing through your hair. His movements are soft and careful, designed not to wake you but to reassure himself you’re still there. You open your eyes slowly meeting his gaze which is filled with a quiet joy.

“Hey,” he whispers. As if speaking too loudly might break the spell of the peaceful moment you've shared.

“Hey,” you respond with your voice just as soft. The simple exchange feels like a gentle reconnection to the world affirming the comfort and affection that wrapped around you both as you slept. The nap together was simple yet intimate. It deepens the connection between you. Each quiet breath shared adding another layer to your growing relationship.

The afternoon light has softened into a cozy twilight by the time you both stir from your nap. You’re still wrapped in Jake’s arms and as your eyes meet there’s a playful spark between you that feels both exciting and comforting. “Welcome back,” Jake murmurs. His voice low and slightly husky from sleep. He leans forward pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. Then one on the tip of your nose, which makes you giggle.

“Is that how you wake up all your guests?” you tease. Your voice light and tinged with laughter.

“Only the special ones,” he replies with a grin with his eyes crinkling at the corners. He doesn’t stop there though. His kisses wander from your cheek to your jawline, each peck light and teasing, drawing more giggles from you. The laughter that fills the room is warm, echoing the affectionate mood.

Jake’s playful kisses continue by tracing a path down the side of your neck, sending a shiver of delight through you. You can’t help but catch him by the collar before pulling him back up to meet your eyes. “You’re going to make it impossible to leave this couch,” you laugh while still holding onto his shirt.

“That’s the plan,” he whispers back. His voice playful yet sincere. Then in a swift, fluid motion he captures your lips with his in a kiss that’s deeper and more intentional than the playful ones before. This kiss feels like a culmination of all the gentle pecks, each one adding a layer to the profound connection you’re building together.

As you break away there’s a shared smile. A mutual understanding of the affection and joy weaving through each interaction, each touch, each kiss. The playfulness adds a lightness to your relationship. He made moments like these not just romantic but genuinely fun, enriching the bond you share with laughter and love. After the laughter subsides and the atmosphere settles into a comfortable quiet, Jake looks at you with a contented smile. His eyes reflecting a gentle appreciation. "These moments with you. They're the highlight of my week," he says quietly. His voice carrying a note of sincerity.

Feeling a warm glow from his words you nod and smile softly. Your response understated but genuine. "It always feels different when I'm with you. It's easy, you know?" Your words are simple, echoing the straightforwardness of your time together.

Jake's response is a nod, his smile lingering. "Let's keep it that way," he replies. His agreement simple yet full of promise. The conversation feels natural, reflecting the comfort and understated affection that characterizes your relationship. As twilight transitions into the deep blue of night neither of you feels ready to break the comfortable cocoon you've formed on the couch. Jake glances at the clock, then back at you with a playful challenge in his eyes.

"How about we order some dinner?" he suggests. His tone casual but hopeful. "I'm not quite ready for this day to end. But I don’t think I can get up quite yet."

You laugh while agreeing instantly. "Sounds perfect. What are you in the mood for?"

"Pizza okay with you?" Jake asks already reaching for his phone to place the order.

"Always a good choice," you reply settling back against his chest while feeling utterly at ease.

The wait for the food is filled with more soft conversations. Each shared thought strengthening the bond between you. As the evening unfolds it becomes clear that days like these are just the beginning of what you both hope will be many more shared experiences.

When the food arrives, you set up a makeshift dining area on the coffee table, continuing the easy flow of the day into the evening. Each slice of pizza comes with stories you share. Each laugh making the room warmer. As the evening winds down, you find yourselves eagerly talking about other things you could do together, from movie nights to hiking trips. The night ends not just with satisfied appetites but with the excitement of planning future outings. It's clear that your relationship is blossoming. Full of promise for more beautiful days and nights shared in each other’s company.

Jake Seresin/Top Gun: Permanent Taglist (If you'd like to be added to any or all works please fill out the form here: Taglist Sign Up) @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @mamachasesmayhem @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @illisea @jessicab1991 @guacam011y @dempy @mrsevans90 @il0vebeingdelulu @hiireadstuff @missxmav @kajjaka

[white-wolf-buckaroo]

The last drop in The Last Drop🍺✨

Here is my self indulging fic set in the Arcane series because I miss Vander a lot and I need to cope with the ending somehow -> Basically a fic where I add an og character (a little girl named Luna) who becomes Vander's fifth adopted child (shoutout to the single dad of the year)

Disclaimer: I haven't played LOL and english isn't my first language, so yeah, and oh I've got daddy issues (reason for which I'm writing this lol)

Mi main Masterlist: here!

Pre-Act 1.1

It's alright, little one

Luna liked Vander's hands. They made her feel safe. He made her feel safe

She's got us now

The Last Drop was a loud place, and Vander's kids were also loud, but Luna slowly begins to fit in within the chaos with her new family

You're not by yourself anymore, Lu

Luna has nightmares, but Vander will always be there for her. She just has to learn that.

I like being close to you

Luna likes to hang out behind the counter because she likes being close to Vander.

It's nice to make new friends

Luna meets Ekko for the first time.

We're having a game night!

When Vander realizes Luna is scared of thunderstorms, he thinks of something to help distract her from the next storm.

To protect something precious one must be willing to do anything

As Luna keeps Vander company while he cleans up for the night, an unexpected visitor arrives: a man with a long coat, black hair, and a scarred eye.

And I'll keep choosing you, every single day

Vander had been called many things in his life, but no one had ever said 'Dad' to him. Until now.

You're my family. Every single one of you.

Mylo, Vi and Claggor get frustrated because they are grounded for a week, and they get angry because Vander doesn't seem to get as angry with Powder and Luna when they do wrong. It's time for him to remind them that he doesn't have any favourites (this one follows directly the one shot/chapter before "And I'll keep choosing you, every single day").

This is somethin' special, kid

On a rare sunny day in the Lanes, all the kids go outside to have fun and play, but not Luna. She stays in the basement all day working on a super secret project that she reveals at the end of the day to her family.

Takes one to know one

Luna makes a new friend, except he isn't from the Lanes, but from Piltover. A boy named Seb.

... more to come!

Drabbles pre Act 1.1.

Told you sprinkles are important!

Vander, Powder and Luna bake Vi a birthday cake.

'Guess the tooth fairy knows her stuff

About a tooth fairy named Claggor.

He's so going to kill us

Luna tags along Vi and Claggor to complete an assignment for Vander, however, she loses them and ends up alone (scaring the sh*t out of her siblings and dad).

... more to come!

Act 1.1

I’ll still fight every day. For them.

Vander wakes up after being taken by Singed for his experiments.

... more to come!

If you have any requests or want to see something happen let me know! I do have a few things mapped out, but as this is a very self indulging fic, I'll probably don't follow a concrete order posting (maybe one day I post a one shot set when they were all kids and the next day one set in season 2, idk depends on the mood ig)

Tell me if you want to be tagged!