#Process Mapping Guide

[suvitfintechprivatelimited]

Startup Cost Analysis: A Quick Guide

Understanding and managing startup costs is important for any new business. It’s not just about knowing the numbers but also mapping processes to ensure your funds are used wisely.

Step 1: Identify Costs Break down costs into fixed costs (like rent, salaries) and variable costs (like utilities, marketing).

Step 2: Prioritize Spending List essentials first—these are non-negotiable for launching operations. Delay non-urgent expenses to maintain cash flow.

Step 3: Map Processes Create a clear workflow. Process mapping helps visualize tasks, responsibilities, and dependencies, ensuring efficiency in operations.

Step 4: Use Technology Tools like Suvit can streamline cost tracking and simplify process mapping, offering clarity and saving time.

Starting strong with clear cost analysis and efficient process mapping can set the foundation for long-term success.

To read this in detail, here’s the link.

[violasgamingpalace]

There's something so frustrating about there being dozens upon dozens of videos about how to conceptualize good map design aimed specifically at Fire Emblem hack creators... and basically nothing on how to use the tools for Map Creation and how they work.

[theskeletoninthegarden]

Had an idea to mix my love of world building with wanting to write a cozy romance and the wip is called "The Explorer's Guide to (insert fantasy land name here)."

[reasonsforhope]

When self-described “ocean custodian” Boyan Slat took the stage at TED 2025 in Vancouver this week, he showed viewers a reality many of us are already heartbreakingly familiar with: There is a lot of trash in the ocean.

“If we allow current trends to continue, the amount of plastic that’s entering the ocean is actually set to double by 2060,” Slat said in his TED Talk, which will be published online at a later date. 

Plus, once plastic is in the ocean, it accumulates in “giant circular currents” called gyres, which Slat said operate a lot like the drain of the bathtub, meaning that plastic can enter these currents but cannot leave.

That’s how we get enormous build-ups like the Great Pacific Garbage Patch, a giant collection of plastic pollution in the ocean that is roughly twice the size of Texas.

As the founder and CEO of The Ocean Cleanup, Slat’s goal is to return our oceans to their original, clean state before 2040. To accomplish this, two things must be done.

First: Stop more plastic from entering the ocean. Second: Clean up the “legacy” pollution that is already out there and doesn’t go away by itself.

And Slat is well on his way.

Pictured: Kingston Harbour in Jamaica. Photo courtesy of The Ocean Cleanup Project

When Slat’s first TEDx Talk went viral in 2012, he was able to organize research teams to create the first-ever map of the Great Pacific Garbage Patch. From there, they created a technology to collect plastic from the most garbage-heavy areas in the ocean.

“We imagined a very long, u-shaped barrier … that would be pushed by wind and waves,” Slat explained in his Talk. 

This barrier would act as a funnel to collect garbage and be emptied out for recycling. 

But there was a problem.

“We took it out in the ocean, and deployed it, and it didn’t collect plastic,” Slat said, “which is a pretty important requirement for an ocean cleanup system.”

Soon after, this first system broke into two. But a few days later, his team was already back to the drawing board. 

From here, they added vessels that would tow the system forward, allowing it to sweep a larger area and move more methodically through the water. Mesh attached to the barrier would gather plastic and guide it to a retention area, where it would be extracted and loaded onto a ship for sorting, processing, and recycling. 

It worked. 

“For 60 years, humanity had been putting plastic into the ocean, but from that day onwards, we were also taking it back out again,” Slat said, with a video of the technology in action playing on screen behind him.

To applause, he said: “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, honestly.”

Over the years, Ocean Cleanup has scaled up this cleanup barrier, now measuring almost 2.5 kilometers — or about 1.5 miles — in length. And it cleans up an area of the ocean the size of a football field every five seconds.

Pictured: The Ocean Cleanup's System 002 deployed in the Great Pacific Garbage Patch. Photo courtesy of The Ocean Cleanup

The system is designed to be safe for marine life, and once plastic is brought to land, it is recycled into new products, like sunglasses, accessories for electric vehicles, and even Coldplay’s latest vinyl record, according to Slat. 

These products fund the continuation of the cleanup. The next step of the project is to use drones to target areas of the ocean that have the highest plastic concentration. 

In September 2024, Ocean Cleanup predicted the Patch would be cleaned up within 10 years. 

However, on April 8, Slat estimated “that this fleet of systems can clean up the Great Pacific Garbage Patch in as little as five years’ time.”

With ongoing support from MCS, a Netherlands-based Nokia company, Ocean Cleanup can quickly scale its reliable, real-time data and video communication to best target the problem. 

It’s the largest ocean cleanup in history.

But what about the plastic pollution coming into the ocean through rivers across the world? Ocean Cleanup is working on that, too. 

To study plastic pollution in other waterways, Ocean Cleanup attached AI cameras to bridges, measuring the flow of trash in dozens of rivers around the world, creating the first global model to predict where plastic is entering oceans.

“We discovered: Just 1% of the world’s rivers are responsible for about 80% of the plastic entering our oceans,” Slat said.

His team found that coastal cities in middle-income countries were primarily responsible, as people living in these areas have enough wealth to buy things packaged in plastic, but governments can’t afford robust waste management infrastructure. 

Ocean Cleanup now tackles those 1% of rivers to capture the plastic before it reaches oceans.

Pictured: Interceptor 007 in Los Angeles. Photo courtesy of The Ocean Cleanup

“It’s not a replacement for the slow but important work that’s being done to fix a broken system upstream,” Slat said. “But we believe that tackling this 1% of rivers provides us with the only way to rapidly close the gap.”

To clean up plastic waste in rivers, Ocean Cleanup has implemented technology called “interceptors,” which include solar-powered trash collectors and mobile systems in eight countries worldwide.

In Guatemala, an interceptor captured 1.4 million kilograms (or over 3 million pounds) of trash in under two hours. Now, this kind of collection happens up to three times a week.

“All of that would have ended up in the sea,” Slat said.

Now, interceptors are being brought to 30 cities around the world, targeting waterways that bring the most trash into our oceans. GPS trackers also mimic the flow of the plastic to help strategically deploy the systems for the most impact.

“We can already stop up to one-third of all the plastic entering our oceans once these are deployed,” Slat said.

And as soon as he finished his Talk on the TED stage, Slat was told that TED’s Audacious Project would be funding the deployment of Ocean Cleanup’s efforts in those 30 cities as part of the organization’s next cohort of grantees. 

While it is unclear how much support Ocean Cleanup will receive from the Audacious Project, Head of TED Chris Anderson told Slat: “We’re inspired. We’re determined in this community to raise the money you need to make that 30-city project happen.”

And Slat himself is determined to clean the oceans for good.

“For humanity to thrive, we need to be optimistic about the future,” Slat said, closing out his Talk.

“Once the oceans are clean again, it can be this example of how, through hard work and ingenuity, we can solve the big problems of our time.”

-via GoodGoodGood, April 9, 2025

[isubhamdas]

Keyword Mapping to SEO Optimize Your Website

Keyword mapping is a powerful SEO technique that can transform your website’s visibility and performance. By strategically aligning your content with the right keywords, you can improve your search rankings and outshine your competitors. In this comprehensive guide, we’ll explore the ins and outs of keyword mapping, equipping you with the knowledge and tools to take your online presence to new…

[thewriteadviceforwriters]

🧩 How to Outline Without Feeling Like You’re Dying

(a non-suffering writer’s guide to structure, sanity, and staying mildly hydrated)

Hey besties. Let’s talk outlines. Specifically: how to do them without crawling into the floorboards and screaming like a Victorian ghost.

If just hearing the word “outline” sends your brain into chaos-mode, welcome. You’re not broken, you’re just a writer whose process has been hijacked by Very Serious Advice™ that doesn’t fit you. You don’t need to build a military-grade beat sheet. You don’t need a sixteen-tab spreadsheet. You don’t need to suffer to be legitimate. You just need a structure that feels like it’s helping you, not haunting you.

So. Here’s how to outline your book without losing your soul (or all your serotonin).

—

🍓 1. Stop thinking of it as “outlining.” That word is cursed. Try “story sketch.” “Narrative roadmap.” “Planning soup.” Whatever gets your brain to chill out. The goal here is to understand your story, not architect it to death.

Outlining isn’t predicting everything. It’s just building a scaffold so your plot doesn't fall over mid-draft.

—

🧠 2. Find your plot skeleton. There are lots of plot structures floating around: 3-Act. Save the Cat. Hero’s Journey. Take what helps, ignore the rest.

If all else fails, try this dirt-simple one I use when my brain is mush:

Act I: What’s the problem?

Act II: Why can’t we fix it?

Act III: What finally makes us change?

Ending: What does that change cost?

You don’t need to fill in every detail. You just need to know what’s driving your character, what’s blocking them, and what choices will change them.

—

🛒 3. Make a “scene bucket list.” Before you start plotting in order, write down a list of scenes you know you want: key vibes, emotional beats, dramatic reveals, whatever.

These are your anchors. Even if you don’t know where they go yet, they’re proof your story already exists, it just needs connecting tissue.

Bonus: when you inevitably get stuck later, one of these might be the scene that pulls you back in.

—

🧩 4. Start with 5 key scenes. That’s it. Here’s a minimalist approach that won’t kill your momentum:

Opening (what sucks about their world?)

Catalyst (what throws them off course?)

Midpoint (what makes them confront themselves?)

Climax (what breaks or remakes them?)

Ending (what’s changed?)

Plot the spaces between those after you’ve nailed these. Think of it like nailing down corners of a poster before smoothing the rest.

You’re not “doing it wrong” if you start messy. A messy start is a start.

—

🔧 5. Use the outline to ask questions, not just answer them. Every section of your outline should provoke a question that the scene must answer.

Instead of: — “Chapter 5: Sarah finds a journal.”

Try: — “Chapter 5: What truth does Sarah find that complicates her next move?”

This makes your story active, not just a list of stuff that happens. Outlines aren’t just there to record, they’re tools for curiosity.

—

🪤 6. Beware of the Perfectionist Trap™. You will not get the entire plot perfect before you write. Don’t stall your momentum waiting for a divine lightning bolt of Clarity. You get clarity by writing.

Think of your outline as a map drawn in pencil, not ink. It’s allowed to evolve. It should evolve.

You’re not building a museum exhibit. You’re making a prototype.

—

🧼 7. Clean up after you start drafting. Here’s the secret: the first draft will teach you what the story’s actually about. You can go back and revise the outline to fit that. It’s not wasted work, it’s evolving scaffolding.

You don’t have to build the house before you live in it. You can live in the mess while you figure out where the kitchen goes.

—

🛟 8. If you’re a discovery writer, hybrid it. A lot of “pantsers” aren’t anti-outline, they’re just anti-stiff-outline. That’s fair.

Try using “signposts,” not full scenes:

Here’s a secret someone’s hiding.

Here’s the emotional breakdown scene.

Here’s a betrayal. Maybe not sure by who yet.

Let the plot breathe. Let the characters argue with your outline. That tension is where the fun happens.

—

🪴 TL;DR but emotionally: You don’t need a flawless outline to write a good book. You just need a loose net of ideas, a couple of emotional anchors, and the willingness to pivot when your story teaches you something new.

Outlines should support you, not suffocate you.

Let yourself try. Let it be imperfect. That’s where the good stuff lives.

Go forth and outline like a gently chaotic legend 🧃

— written with snacks in hand by Rin T. @ thewriteadviceforwriters 🍓🧠✍️

Sometimes the problem isn’t your plot. It’s your first 5 pages. Fix it here → 🖤 Free eBook: 5 Opening Pages Mistakes to Stop Making:

[fictionalsweethearts]

SUBLIMATE THE PAIN | SEVIKA X READER | ARCANE

Synopsis: Sevika helps you to explore yourself and subside the pain and the shame of self pleasure.

Contains: comfort, soft!sevika, unexperienced!reader, wlw, first sexual experiences, soft talk, masturbation, fingering.

A pretty personal fic, tbh, but Sevika as a character seems to be patient and loving when it comes to sex and I'm here to write about it. Enjoy!

Sevika had promised you patience and comfort, a woman with her vast sexual experience knew the unpleasant and uncomfortable details of love. She knew the burning and the pain, the disgust, the sorrow, the shame and the numbness, and for that reason she had promised to accompany you in the process with as much patience as necessary.

She kissed you again on the neck, a mirror stood before you sitting on the bed, Sevika's vast hand ran over your breasts and her grey eyes looked at you through the reflection, inviting you to stop ignoring the signs of your body. Her breasts brushed your back, her mechanical hand gently parted your legs and revealed the juiciness and softness of your core.

"How do you pretend to touch her without knowing her?" The woman asked. "You ignore many things, babe."

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment since you had your first kiss of the evening, but you promised not to let shyness win you over this time. It was the third night and the third time you tried, the last two having ended with a sudden lock-in in the bathroom or tears of shame and frustration running down your cheeks.

"I can't. I swear I can't." You cried as Sevika kissed your wet cheeks.

"Of course you can, don't be like that with yourself."

You considered that Sevika could be your mentor in this unknown field for you, the guide that would allow you to understand sex as something more than a mere routine or necessary act. "To begin with, doll, we don't intend to have a child with this. Not even if we wanted to. Second, I've seen as many pussies in my life as I've smoked cigarettes and yours is undoubtedly beautiful."

You laughed to hide your shame, but Sevika meant it. She was decades ahead of you in sexual experiences, she knew the female anatomy in depth, taking the time to explore herself first. Sevika knew that no one could teach her how to have an orgasm, and she fondly remembers the first times she tried self pleasure in the silence of her room, picturing that pretty girl at the market who used to sell her peaches at a good price. It was another Zaun, more precarious, less saturated with pornography and violence, and certainly her brain needed little to start imagining. And the softness of the girl's breasts under her blouse, her long neck and olive eyes were more than enough to awaken that visceral desire in her.

She dedicated her first orgasm to that girl and her peach scent. It was in a way tender, but the starting point of an endless journey through the unexplored region of sexuality. She soon discovered that inserting a finger was pleasant, that if she moved it in a certain way, it was even more so. She discovered that her breasts were sensitive if touched properly, that her entire skin was a map of erogenous zones and tickles, that rubbing her pussy against the pillow was delicious, and that after an orgasm she slept better. And soon, as soon as she was over five foot seven and learned to smoke without coughing, Sevika discovered that touching herself tasted better if someone she liked did it for her.

"Slow." Sevika whispered, placing a kiss on your shoulder. "Look at yourself. What do you see?"

"My pussy." You whispered, barely giving your reflection time to look back at you.

"You say it like it's a bad thing."

"It's not bad it's…"

"Strange?"

"I don't usually look at my pussy, Sev." You groaned.

"You should, it's pretty." Sevika laughed, caressing your waist with her metal fingers. "Think of all the men who have been staring at their cocks for as long as they've been conscious of them hanging between their legs, do you think they feel ashamed?"

You hesitated. "No?"

"There are two things a man always believes to be true." Sevika said, her tone lighter. "That they have the fattest cock on the block and that they can duel a bear without weapons, and win."

You laughed, your legs shaking slightly. Sevika smiled back. "If only you had the confidence they have in themselves, doll. It would be all so different."

Your expression sobered, this time giving the gap between your legs a longer look, that much neglected organ that deserved just a little more recognition in your life and in the lives of many other women.

"Look at the labia majora, the shape of it, the length of it…" Sevika whispered. "It frames the labia minora, the ones closest to the entrance."

You'd seen them in some anatomy book at the library, but recognizing them on yourself was quite different.

"I should have shaved more." You groaned in frustration.

Sevika snorted. "Are you saying that because of you or me? Cause lemme tell you, a hairy pussy doesn't grosses me out. On the contrary."

"But it does to me."

"Mine repels you?" Sevika inquired, leaving you speechless for a moment.

"No…" you whispered. "Yours… it's yours."

"I see. Now think the same about yours, sweetie." Sevika said. "Yours is what it is and that's it. Don't you dare apologize for how your body looks. Do I apologize for not having an arm?"

And you fell silent once more. Sevika sighed, kissing your neck. “You get my point.”

Sevika reveled in your body, in your flushed cheeks and focused eyes. She loved seeing you present. “You’re already wet.” She whispered. “But it can get wetter. Take two fingers.”

Sevika brought you index and middle fingers parted to the sides of your entrance, urging you to press. “Massage, slow.” She whispered, showing you the movement.

You obeyed, following the motion timidly at first, until you soon understood the purpose. That movement, however subtle, opened a pent-up dam that began to make you wetter and wetter. You moaned, feeling the urge to touch the rest but Sevika held your wrist. “Start from edges.” She said. “Don’t rush it.”

It was one of your vices, quick, silent masturbation. With your legs closed, a hand on your mouth and your eyes closed tightly, as if you were committing a crime that you wanted to finish soon. They were fleeting moments of pleasure that later turned into disconnection with yourself.

But Sevika knew you deserved better than that.

With your index finger you traced circles on your labia majora, slowly while Sevika whispered in your ear, kissed it and bit your lobe, making you shudder subtly. It was a constant and gentle movement, with no other purpose than to explore yourself.

"Come closer to the center." Sevika whispered. "Apply pressure, rub a little."

Your eyelids fluttered at that tickling between your legs, the sticky and wet murmur of your folds that made Sevika moan softly and her breathing accelerate, her breasts pressing against your back. Your hips moved unconsciously, you looked at your hand through the mirror, delicately between your legs with the elegance of an erotic painting.

"You're so pretty." Sevika gasped. "Look how your cheeks blush."

"Yours too."

Sevika smiled. "It just turns me on like you can't imagine seeing you touching yourself."

Sevika was known to be an avid spectator. More than once she would abstain from participating and sit on the couch in the brothel with a cigarette between her teeth, asking her girl to give her a show. There was something about watching such an intimate ritual that stirred every nerve fiber in her. Watching them unfold before her, rubbing themselves the way they liked, moaning genuinely, shuddering, whimpering and sighing, being able to see how their own hand is able to take them on a roller coaster of sensations. That ritual held a power that Sevika was fascinated to behold, and tonight you were her apprentice and her muse.

Sevika squeezed your breast, playing with your hardened, sensitive nipple. She already wanted to taste them, but she had to be patient. The appetizer was your self-exploration, the dessert was her mouth between your legs.

"You know… when there's too much business to attend to." Sevika said, her grey eyes watching you. "I can't visit the girls, so I lay back on my bed with a cigarette between my lips…" she murmured. "And I squeeze my breasts. Over and over, I touch them… massage them… while thinking of old encounters, of sounds… smells. You know how I love smells."

"All of them." You whimpered.

"Yes… from the armpits to the neck, between a couple of breasts and a wet pussy." Sevika sucked in between her teeth. "All of them."

You remember how Sevika had taken to sniffing you the first time she had you. She inhaled the scent of your neck and the crook of your elbows, behind your knees and your armpits. It was a scent loaded with codes, codes that communicated intentions. The pheromones were the best card to attract the most finicky organ of the human body; the nose.

"Sev." You whimpered. "Can you…?"

"That would be the shortcut, so no. I won't touch you yet."

You groaned, tilting your head back as Sevika placed a kiss on the top of your head. "Patience." Sevika drew your hand to the shy hood at the top of your pussy. "Pamper her, that's what it's for."

You traced circles around it, letting out a gasp. Sevika kept her hand on your wrist, indicating the methodical and steady pace, drawing sweet moans from you. "I'm wet just by looking at you." She whispered.

You bit your lip, the urge to grind harder and harder. An orgasm was building inside you, steady and certain, as Sevika kissed your neck and motioned for you to quicken your pace. "Ah, fuck…"

"Moan better." Sevika said. "You can be as loud as you want here."

You whimpered, your hips seeking more contact as you moved and you rubbed against your hand. Sevika pressed her fingers against you, urging you on. "Keep going… don't rush." ​​

"Ah, Sev."

"You like it? It's better when you don' try to cum in two minutes."

You hurried your hand, but Sevika held you back. This wasn't a race and you were certainly getting ahead of yourself. "Old habits die hard."

Her metal hand held your legs apart, her other hand ascending to your chin to make you look at yourself in the mirror again. “We’ll try again, okay?”

This part was the one you liked the least. It wasn’t just the pain, it was the accumulated frustration from past sessions with no results. Sevika told you it was all in your head, that you were just as deserving of this pleasure as others. But you still felt skeptical.

“Middle finger.” She whispered, bringing it to your entrance. “Just press, darling. Soften your entrance.”

You pressed your lips together, obeying her command even though you preferred to rub. You eased the tip of your finger, gently moving it in circles. “It already burns.” You whined.

“I know. We talked about sublimating pain, remember?” You nodded. “Your body is already relaxed, you’re wet. You need to focus on breathing.”

It seemed that when it came to penetration, your body locked up. It was an overwhelming burn, a wall of fire if you will, closing in around your fingers and keeping you from entering. Sevika had tried this in the past, drawing whimpers from you that would never stop causing her guilt. This time, however, it was about allowing yourself to do it.

"I don't like it, Sev."

"You don't like it because you're predisposed to suffer." she insisted. "I know you can, babygirl."

You looked at Sevika through the mirror, her grey eyes soothing you. "Breathe, deep. One… two…" you inhaled, your hand between your legs, the wall of fire present. "Three. Exhale…"

You dared to venture deeper, your walls coupling to your finger as the burn quickened your breathing. "Shh." Sevika kissed your neck. "Breathe again."

One… two… three…

Exhale.

“Ah…” you moaned, inserting the last bit of your finger and feeling the latent but less painful tension. “Mhm.”

“Good girl, look at yourself.”

You opened your eyes, looking at yourself in the mirror. The palm of your hand rested against your clit, your finger inserted all the way in, like a new but unrejected intrusion. “Sev.”

“I told you you could, you're taking it whole.” Sevika smiled. "Can you move it?"

You barely curled your finger, but you recognized the rugous wall inside you. "Yes…" you moaned.

"Breath for me." continued Sevika, gently taking your wrist as she motioned you to curl your fingers once more. "One... two..."

"Mhm, Sev." you moaned, your eyes closing. "Fuck."

"Does it hurt?"

"The pressure." you managed to explain.

"You're tensing, baby. Relax..." Sevika let out a pant, kissing the side of your neck. "You're doing so good."

You endured and took a deep breath, curling your finger against the inner wall Sevika talked you about. You felt a tickle, barely diminishing due to an increasingly timid pain.

And Sevika seemed pleased. "You did good, baby. Rest."

You pulled your finger back when the pressure forced it, only for Sevika to cup your chin in her fingers and pull you in for a long kiss. "Well done." She said between kisses. "Fuck, you looked so beautiful."

Sevika showered you in kisses, from your mouth to your navel, repeating how proud she was of you. "You've crossed the threshold, gorgeous. You just need to practice."

You smiled, feeling the hint of a happy cry build up in your throat. But Sevika cheered you up with another kiss. "We'll try again tomorrow. Sooner than later I'll have you cumming in my fingers over and over again."

You chuckled, watching Sevika kiss your inner thigh. "It's rude to look at the food without eating it, y'know?" you teased her.

"How rude of me." she purred, her kisses coming closer to your wet and now dilated pussy. "You better moan properly, doll."

"All you want."

[penstricken]

Not Sure What to Write? Try Clustering.

Clustering is the pre-writing technique you never knew you needed! 🤯 Check out my new post on how I use clustering with Scapple to brainstorm new stories and overcome writers' block 👇 #Scapple #clustering #fiction #writing @ScrivenerApp @scappleapp

The blank page. Is there anything more daunting for a writer than a blank page when you’ve got no idea what to write? Fortunately, there are a few pre-writing techniques you can use to get the old juices flowing, and today I want you to introduce you to one of my favourites. Clustering is a very simple pre-writing technique, similar to free writing, in which the writer begins with a single word…

[ozzgin]

I just finished playing Firewatch and the cozy, lonely vibes gave me another monster idea! You got a summer job as a fire watch for the closest National Park. All you have to do is to sit in your tower, and...watch. For fires. Sounds boring? Worry not, your supervisor is there to keep you company over the radio. Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, obsessive behavior, suggestive ending

"And? What are you running away from?"

"Excuse me?"

You raise your eyebrows at the unexpected question coming from the radio. The deep voice belongs to your supervisor, the man who'll guide you throughout your stay at the National Park.

"No one picks up an isolated job in the mountains out of sheer desire. Especially someone as young as you." He chuckles briefly, then resumes in a more professional tone: "My apologies. You don't have to answer that."

What a strange way to begin the conversation, you think to yourself. Yet this nonchalance and casualty is all you have for the following months. The other watchtowers don't talk much, if at all. You're entirely alone in the wilderness, save for the mysterious man on the radio.

Slowly, you begin to warm up to his chatty nature. He likes to ask a lot of questions. A terribly curious individual, though you can understand his reasoning: he's been working for the Park for over a decade. How does one survive without another human being?

He never leaves his tower, and thus you've never seen his face. He's content, you're indifferent. Occasionally, he'll mention sketching you to pass the time.

"How would you describe your eyes, (Y/N)?" he'll ask between his pencil scribbles. "I see. I'm sure they're beautiful. Why are you suddenly quiet? Have you forgotten how to take a compliment? I'm just messing with you, kiddo."

You haven't witnessed a single fire since coming here, despite the torrid summer heat. Your days are spent hiking without aim and talking to your supervisor.

One morning, you wake up to the grating beep of the radio instead of your alarm. You pick up the small device with an irritated grunt.

"Would you like to meet?"

You need a moment to process the words. Are you finally going to greet the one man who's kept you distant company for weeks? Intriguing. You mumble your agreement, still half-asleep.

As you make your way down the hill, you notice a supply station covered in moss and overgrown vegetation. You check your map, just to be sure. There shouldn't be anything here. What a peculiar thing to stumble upon. You approach the old wooden box and lift the lid carefully.

The musty inside is filled with rows of newspapers and some scattered notes. You pluck one newspaper out, and rest your eyes on the first headline.

"National Park is saying goodbye to its employees. The area will be permanently closed after the devastating fire."

You gawk at the title, then at the photographed location.

It's your watchtower.

You scramble to read the rest of the paragraphs, words slipping behind in your frantic search. This forest has been sealed off for years. You recognize the name of your supervisor in the report: a father of three, loved by everyone, died tragically before a rescue team could reach him.

"Found anything interesting, kiddo?"

You turn around with mild hesitation. Whoever this impersonating maniac is, or what he wants, is rather irrelevant at this point. You're trapped alone with him.

Across from you stands a creature, resembling a chimera more than a human being. Long, grotesque limbs ending in black claws, hollow eyes, and mangled rows of razor-sharp teeth put together in a grin. Monstrous.

You're out of breath.

"That looks great", the creature remarks cheerfully.

"Don't use my voice to talk. It's embarrassing to hear myself like that", you lecture it as you spread out the food onto the picnic blanket.

It switches back to the supervisor's soft, masculine tone.

"Sorry, I did not mean to make you uncomfortable."

The monster extends one bony hand over your head, fanning out the fingers and dragging them across your hair in gentle strokes. What a precious little human you are.

You did not run away. A terrifying thought: losing you after all the time spent together. It didn't want to chase you down and make it even worse for you. But you stayed, you truly did.

"By the way", you say as you bite into your sandwich, stretching out your legs. "Is it you who prevents the fires? Usually it's a common occurrence here, especially in summer."

You recall the scorching flames from the newspaper.

"Yes. To keep you safe, you understand."

"Not only did you lie to me about the job, but you kept me out of work, too", you whine. "I got bored to death! Days on end!"

You're suddenly pushed down into the blanket, and you stare into the spiraling, empty sockets, confused.

"I can entertain you to your heart's desire, (Y/N)."

Its snout widens in a flirty smile, releasing a bizarre succession of clicks. Is it laughing in its natural voice?

You blush.

"I suppose there are some ways..." you suggest cheekily, unbuttoning your shirt.

[More Monsters] | [More Original Works]

[caulmiflower]

How I think the Baldur’s Gate Companions would fare at the airport

Gale: In true papa fashion, he’s making sure everyone is on the way to the airport 3 hours early, he’s got an itinerary, map, and translation guide locked and loaded.

Astarion: absolutely fucking up some margaritas at the airport chili’s. Flirts with flight attendant to move to first class (this does not work). Argues with TSA agent bc what idiot would hide a bomb in a 16 oz blood bag?

Karlach: HATES flying bc she’s so tall, yet is totally unwilling to shill out first class tickets. She only packs carry on and stands up once the plane lands no matter where she’s seated. Very chatty when seated next to strangers.

Lae’zel: Has her pilot’s license, but tags along cause she doesn’t want these imbeciles in her plane. Packs minimally and doesn’t even bring any entertainment, simply raw dog’s the entire flight by peering out the window seat and reflecting.

Wyll: Practiced flyer, has his travel plans down to a T. Business class, neck pillow, fully charged kindle, the sleekest luggage you’ve ever seen. Probably the most fashionable person in the airport without even trying.

Shadowheart: Terrified of flying, hates every step of the process. Disgruntled and smelly from nerves by the time the flight lands. But she does enjoy her little in flight snacks.

Halsin: Has a moral opposition against flying, he’s rather leave 3 days early for a road trip and elect to pick up the crew at the airport. When he finally caves and takes a flight he’s moved to tears by the majesty of the land from the sky.

Jaheira: She’s in the lounge, somehow knows all the pilots. She loves an in flight ginger ale, is moved to first class just because the flight attendant owes her a favor.

[lushleona]

── .✦ military!mattheo fucking you in his uniform

warnings: 18+ mdni, fem!reader, unprotected p in v, breeding kink, slight dacryphilia (?), cmnf, swearing

you don’t hear him coming.

one second, you're reaching up to grab a glass from the cabinet, and the next, he’s there—pressed against your back, arms winding tight around your waist, his broad chest solid and unyielding as he breathes in deep at the crook of your neck, the heavy weight of him swallowing you whole. it’s barely been half an hour since he got home—the clinginess is expected.

"fuck," mattheo rasps, voice like gravel. "can't fucking be away from you. tried—tried to keep my hands to myself for a little longer, but i can’t."

his hands drag down, slow, deliberate, rough palms mapping your body like he's memorizing you all over again. his belt clinks as he presses closer, and you can feel him—thick and heavy against your ass, barely contained by his uniform.

"took the words right out of my mouth," you murmur, tilting your head as his lips graze your skin, breath warm and uneven. his stubble scratches along your jaw, a reminder that he’s real, that he’s here, and your stomach clenches with anticipation.

"yeah?" he nips at the shell of your ear, his hands slipping under your shirt, palms greedy against bare skin before sliding the shirt up and off of you. "you been missing me that bad, angel?"

"you have no idea."

his chest rumbles with a low, pleased hum, hands squeezing at your now naked tits. "been touching yourself while i was gone, hm? slipping those pretty fingers inside, pretending they were mine?"

heat floods your cheeks, embarrassment prickling at your spine. you hesitate, and that’s all he needs.

"oh, baby," he drawls, dragging a hand up to wrap around your throat, not tight, just there, thumb stroking over your pulse. "bet you made such a mess of yourself thinkin’ about me. bet you came so fuckin’ pretty."

his other hand moves, fingers slipping past the waistband of your shorts, teasing along the damp fabric of your panties. "but not as good as when i do it, huh?"

"n-no," you whisper, legs trembling.

he chuckles, dark and satisfied. "good girl. now, c’mon—gonna take care of you properly."

before you can process it, he’s lifting you like you weigh nothing, spinning you in his arms and setting you down on the kitchen counter. the cold marble bites into your skin as he tugs your shorts and panties down in one swift motion, his rough hands guiding your knees apart, spreading you open for him, leaving you entirely bare and vulnerable while he’s still dressed in his uniform.

his gaze darkens, hunger carving sharp lines into his already severe features. he drinks you in like a dying man, eyes unable to leave your glistening pussy. "i think this sweet little cunt missed me as much as i missed her."

his fingers trail up your thighs, slow and taunting, before wrapping around his belt. the sound of the buckle unfastening makes your breath hitch, and then he’s unzipping his pants, freeing himself with a low groan.

he’s so hard it looks painful, tip flushed and leaking as he wraps a hand around his cock, lazily stroking as he watches you squirm.

“you gonna be good for me?

"yes—yes, please, mattheo—"

he grins, wolfish. "so fuckin’ polite. what happened to my brat, huh? where’d she go?" his cock slides through your slick folds, the thick head tapping against your clit, making you clench. "thought you’d be givin’ me a hard time."

"mattheo," you whimper, hips jerking as he keeps teasing, keeps sliding his cock over your pussy, over and over, never giving you what you need. your head falls back, frustration tightening your muscles. "please. please, just—"

he groans, grip tightening on your thighs. "fuck, you beg so pretty. c'mon, baby. tell me you want me to fuck you raw."

there’s not a single tremble of hesitation in your voice. “i want you to fuck me raw.”

his cock twitches in his hand. he leans forward, lips brushing against your ear, voice dropping to something almost mocking, almost sweet. "yeah? after all this time, think you can take me without any prep? think this greedy little cunt can handle it?"

his words send a shiver down your spine, a sharp pulse of need tightening in your stomach. "yes," you breathe. "i can take it."

he exhales a harsh breath, running his cock along your slick again, pressing just the tip inside before pulling back. "gonna split you open, baby. make you feel me for days. you want that?"

"want it so bad—please, please, mattheo—"

he chuckles, something dark, something smug. "such a desperate little thing. fine. but you better take every inch."

he lines himself up and pushes in, slow, making you take every thick inch until he’s buried deep, your walls stretching around him. a broken moan slips past your lips, hands gripping the edge of the counter as your body trembles beneath his.

mattheo lets out a strangled groan, head dropping forward. his hands find your waist, gripping tight as he starts to move, each thrust deliberate, dragging pleasure through every nerve in your body. he watches you—watches the way your eyes flutter, the way your lips part, the way your breath stutters with every push and pull of his cock.

"look at you," he murmurs, voice thick with reverence. "my beautiful little slut."

he leans down, pressing his forehead to yours, his breath hot and heavy against your lips. "gonna fill you up, baby. gonna make you mine all over again."

his thrusts turn rougher, deeper, pushing you closer and closer to the edge, his fingers digging into your hips as he fucks you open. you’re gasping, moaning, eyes shining with unshed tears as pleasure coils tight in your stomach.

"please," you whimper, and he groans, tilting your chin up to catch a tear on his tongue, groaning at the taste. another tear falls and he licks it off your cheek in record time.

"fuck, i missed you," he breathes against your lips. "gonna make you cum, sweetheart. then i’m gonna fill you up—gonna breed this pretty little pussy until you’re dripping."

his thumb finds your clit, rubbing tight circles as his thrusts turn punishing, precise. your body locks up, pleasure cresting so hard it leaves you breathless, your release hitting you in waves as he fucks you through it.

mattheo doesn’t stop.

he groans, chasing his own high, thrusts turning erratic as he buries himself deep one last time, spilling inside you with a shuddering moan. he stays there, holding you close, pressing soft, reverent kisses to your jaw, your neck, your lips.

"i love you, angel," he murmurs, voice hoarse.

his cock twitches inside you, and his lips curl into a smirk against your skin. "think you can give me another one, baby?"

m.list

[dduane]

Oh, just in passing: a couple of SPOCK'S WORLD notes

(from @magicalgirlcrazycatlady:

!!!!!!! AUDIOBOOK SPOCK'S WORLD!!!! EXISTS? READ BY THOSE TWO?????????

Yep. If you go over to, say, Ebay, you can usually find somebody selling the audiobook on cassette (and if you're very lucky, on CD).

It hasn't been reissued in decades, and I can't really be sure why. It may be that there are union-based (meaning SAG[-AFTRA]) issues with the way Nimoy and Takei were compensated for the original performances; so that if the audiobook was reissued in more modern media, the publisher would have to deal with the way union rules for such performances have changed. (Which might run into serious money.)

In any case, it's a shame it's not more readily available. Both of the gentlemen involved did a fabulous job. I've had the pleasure of telling George so, and I'm sad not to have been able to tell Nimoy the same. (sigh) Anyway, it was a pleasure and a privilege to be involved in the endeavor.

...Also, per @rightspocko:

#oh my god you did that in 2 weeks#and you rewrote it so quickly and it’s still superb!#i never would’ve guessed because it’s so well structured and well written

The rewrite went as well as it did (and frankly as well as it could have done, under the circumstances) because before I ever started work on that book, I'd written a comprehensive outline.

It's not widely understood, I think, that when you're writing for a big IP owner / licensor, it is impossible to sell them a new project without first writing an outline that makes plain what it'll contain. Pantsing—however much some writers may enjoy that mode of novel writing, however much some may feel it to be the superior mode—has no place in the licensed-universe sales process. No licensor is going to even agree in principle with your agent that you're going to be brought in to do an original novel, let alone write the contract to back up their intent, until you've submitted an outline that tells Corporate in considerable detail what they (and their stockholders) are going to be getting for their money.

In the case of Spock's World, this rule went double, perhaps triple—regardless of the success of my previous work for Trek and Pocket. Spock's World was going to be their very first ever hardcover Star Trek novel. The whole project was a gamble... and the corporate Powers that Be therefore needed to know exactly what I was going to be giving them. So I did what I usually do for a book of the projected length—an outline somewhere in the neighborhood of 20-25 single-spaced pages. (ETA: For the hell of it, I just spent half an hour or so digging around for it, and [at the virtual "bottom" of a storage hard drive] found the ancient .arc file in which it'd been packed away. The outline is dated March 3rd, 1988, and comes to about 22 single-spaced pages. ...Call it 8K words and change.)

The outline, as always, was the "road map" I'd drawn for where I was going, to avoid wasting time in possibly getting lost along the way. All the structural work and serious plotting was already complete in the outline... ready to have the prose racked up in it, as a bookshelf's built ready to house its books.

And that's why the result, despite the near-disaster, still looks okay. All I had to do* was write again what "lost material" I'd already written, with the outline to guide me, or prompt me, where my memory failed. To this day I feel strongly that the book was significantly better because of that second write-through, however enforced. So this whole process turned into kind of a blessing in disguise (despite my poor lower back's more or less constant screams of protest).

That outline was what saved my butt... as others would, in years to come, further down the line. Those interested in having their own butts saved when necessary, and their writing life generally made less stressy, can look over here and see the outlining "blueprint" I use. C. J. Cherryh put me onto it; and what Carolyn doesn't know about writing a well- and tightly-plotted SF novel, seriously doesn't matter.

...And now I'm going to go make some spaghetti sauce. :)

*"All I had to do." CAN I EVEN HEAR MYSELF. (helpless laughter) It was like climbing hand over hand out of hell. But at least I could always see the light at the top of the tunnel...

[httpsserene]

throw tomatoes, no stones, but that pic of lando with naomi? if you have ANY thoughts for a black reader x norris i would so eat it up please and thank you

grip — 𝐥𝐧. 𝟒 lando norris x fem!black!reader he loves the way you feel under his hands.

༊࿐ ⊹ ˚. anon, you said ANY thoughts, so here are my thoughts—or lando's thoughts i guess; even though it has nothing to do with the pic (i always lose the plot)

⌕ join taglist | feedback & reqs | works in progress | table of contents ↻

his hands on your neck ♡︎ lando wonders how many hours of his life he’s spent helping you with your necklaces. you won’t be seen without multiple around your neck, and he dutifully follows your directions to adjust the chains to the proper length for them to layer in the order you want. his fingers brush your neck while he does it, and the process is made longer as you flinch away from his hands every so often because you’re sure he’s trying to tickle you on purpose. not even an hour after he finished, his hard work is ruined and he has to spend several minutes untangling the necklaces to make them sit perfectly again. becuase, what kind of boyfriend is he if he lets you walk around with your jewelry in complete disarray? but when he’s gotten the necklaces to cooperate once more, he gets to rest a hand on your neck (never squeezing, the weight of it is enough), and hold you exactly where he likes as he receives his payment in kisses. 

his hands on your face ♡︎ lando doesn’t think you're aware of how he maps your face with his fingers before you wake up. he brushes your brows into order with a gentle thumb, traces your cheekbones with reverence, follows the bridge of your nose with a finger, smiles at the softness and heat of your cheeks under his palm, and pets over your cupid’s bow and plush lips with the lightest pressure. when you wake, the first thing you do is sleepily grin at him, and his fingers move to admire the dip of your dimples. your smile makes lando weak in the knees, and he swears he’d do anything to keep it on your face.

his hands on your back & shoulders ♡︎ lando’s knuckles brush the skin of your back as he zips up your dress, and he smirks when he feels you shiver at the ghost of his touch. he raises his hands to rest on your shoulders and massages, your reflection in the full-length mirror revealing how your eyes flutter shut in relief. your head rolls back to rest on his chest and lando takes a moment to let his eyes roam over your frame—he knew that you’d look like a dream in this dress when he saw it through a display window. he lowers his hands and leaves one on the small of your back, laughing at the way your eyes pop open, only to glare at his reflection. lando guides you toward the door, promising that he’ll fix the tension in your upper back with a proper massage after dinner, warmed oil included. he knows a few tricks to alleviate the pain in your lower back, too, but that requires more of a deep tissue massage.

his hands on your waist, hips, & ass ♡︎ lando’s been in trouble with you (and the press team) for this bad habit of his multiple times, and he has really tried to fix it. he starts the day with his hand resting on the dip of your waist, thumb mindlessly rubbing over the fabric there before he has to head to the press pen. when he returns, he grabs you by the hips to pull you to stand in front of him, and doesn’t move his hands back to your waist until you remind him that you’re in public. apparently, it’s not socially acceptable to appreciate the spread of your girlfriend’s hips in the middle of mclaren hospitality; hooking a finger into your belt loop is better received. the real problem is when he forgets himself. it’s cute and dismissible when he slides a hand into your back pocket. it’s less cute when he finds you walking to steal lunch from ferrari after a practice session, and smacks you on the ass with enough force to make you jump—in direct view of the cameras following him around. it’s like his hand has a mind of its own, because he promises he didn’t actually mean do that (he was only thinking about it). the cameras also record how the color drains from lando’s face and the absolute fear in his expression as you lay into him for smacking your ass in the middle of the paddock (for the nth time). 

his hand on your thighs & ankles ♡︎ lando hates being cold, which makes your thighs perfect handwarmers. if you’re sitting next to him, it’s a given that his hand is going to it's place on your thigh. when he wants your attention, all he has to do is squeeze the supple skin to get you to look at him. he loves it when you sit on his left, so he can eat or sign posters with his dominant hand without a struggle, while his other hand is happily snug between your crossed legs. however, when the two of you are home together, you spread out on opposite ends of the couch, and you always kick your feet up onto his lap. lando’s hand wraps around your ankle and draws circles over the bones, and he doesn’t even consider tickling your feet—most of the time.

his hands in your hair ♡︎ lando’s earned every opportunity to touch your hair. it started with you asking him if your middle part was straight. he told you it was off-center, and you handed him the comb and told him to make it perfect—which he did. you recruited him to help with your wash days, and simultaneously helped him develop his hair care routine. you get huffy when he does your edges better than you, you taught him how to add beads to your styles, and how to braid (it counts, even if you only let him do the ones on the back of your head). lando doesn’t think that you’ll ever let him hold a hot comb or flat iron, but he’s satisfied with being trusted to finish blow-drying your hair when your arms get tired. you fall asleep as he’s oiling your scalp or treating you to a head massage, and he thinks about the future. after his retirement, when the two of you have a gaggle of curly-headed children running around the house, and the stress of making multiple tiny, tender heads of unruly hair presentable, isn’t all on you. because of the trust you put in him now, he's going to be able to do your children’s hair too.

his hand in yours ♡︎ lando loves holding hands with you, interlocked fingers, his thumb rubbing over yours, arms swinging between your bodies as you walk from one place to another; a sign to everyone watching that he’s yours, and you’re his. his hands are larger than yours, obviously, but he didn’t realize just how big his truly were until he watched you wrap your entire hand around his pinky finger. the sight had him wanting to ask to compare hand sizes like he was in grade school all over again. he’s heard you call his hands massive or refer to them as bear paws, but lando says they’re perfectly sized, because he’s able to hold all of you in them. 

© httpsserene —do not reupload. photos used are from pinterest (edited by me). mdni divider by @cafekitsune.

[things-of-fire]

SilkWing metamorphosis takes a huge toll on the body. A dragonet has to grow an entire set of wings in only six days—how do they do it? Unlike caterpillars, SilkWings’ bodies don’t change enough to warrant turning into soup. Instead, the body enters a trance state, slowing down most metabolic processes except those needed to grow a pair of wings. Said wings are delicate, supported mostly by cartilage rather than bone. This makes them extra light and agile. A SilkWing’s cocoon regulates the humidity around them, creating an ideal environment for the growing and healing process. It also protects them from temperature fluctuations, lessening strain on the body.

Growing wings also takes energy. LOTS of energy. Prior to Wasp’s reign, SilkWing diets were well studied and pre-metamorphosis “bulking” was common practice. In the month or two leading up to metamorphosis, a SilkWing’s appetite increases tenfold. Communities would host small feasts and “foraging parties” for their dragonets to ensure a healthy transition. Candied nuts, grilled grubs, and pollen cakes were especially popular for their nutritional density. Unfortunately, contemporary medicine was dominated by HiveWings for decades, resulting in the erasure of this knowledge. Hungry SilkWing dragonets were brushed off as “needy” and metamorphosis recovery times increased. Without the energy stores, their bodies broke down essential tissues for energy, leaving many dragonets malnourished and sick after metamorphosing.

With the establishment of the LeafSilk kingdom, things have changed for the better. Cricket and Malachite have organized hundreds of dragons to search the wreckage of the Hives for books, documents, anything that tells the true history of Pantala. The elderly Flamesilks, now free, tell Blue stories from before the tree wars and fret over him like a grandchild. He always returns home well-fed. Mandrake pours over old field guides and maps, working with Sundew to restore the food sources Pantala thrived on all those years ago.

And when Dusky’s wingbuds start to grow, the Flamesilks put every dragon to work gathering food for a grand feast, the first of the Leafsilk kingdom.

[martynsimp69]

Dogwarts - A Horror-Themed Minecraft Map

Ever since the beheading, paranoia has taken hold of the Red King.

Dogwarts is a short Minecraft map full of secrets, made for AUFest 2024's Reverse Big Bang. You can find more information on it here, including the world download, content warnings, how-to-play guide, and a video showcase for anyone who can't or doesn't want to play through it themselves.

As part of the event I had the honor of working with two INCREDIBLE writers, Sparrow @erstwhilesparrow and Writer @capriciouswriter207!! Both of them did a masterful job bringing this story to life in a new medium, and I'm delighted that I got to have them on my team <3 Check out their fics:

branches, but softer by sesquidpedalian

The things Martyn carries with him have dwindled to almost nothing. One bucket that he doesn’t dare abandon to the capricious shadows, a handful of glass bottles. A scrap of banner that he keeps in his pocket, that he wipes his sweat on but never without feeling a little bad. If it’s the tunnels themselves that are responsible for all his misfortune, they never make a sound to suggest so. If this place is haunted, it’s not haunted by any ghosts but his own.

What happens below (none will ever know) by Writer207

The enchanter must be protected at all costs. Away from prying eyes, deep below the ground, nobody but Ren will ever lay their eyes on it again. A labyrinth of dirt and stone must be dug to further protect it. The process weighs heavily on Martyn, and the tunnels themselves seem to suffocate him. It's all worth it, though. The enchanter must be safe.

Thank you, and enjoy <3

[simgraze]

I am so excited to be releasing my first sims 4 save-file!

This is version 1.0 which is a redo of Newcrest! There are also lots completed for Willow Creek, but that world is incomplete and will be updated in a future version.

Disclaimer: I own all of the DLC, and have used them throughout the builds and households. You can still download this without all of the DLC, but some items may be missing and need to be replaced. (I went back and forth on this, but ultimately my community said to just go for it).

No Mods/CC Required

There are 9 households living in Newcrest, with other households in Willow Creek and Not in World to populate the world. 

For console players, all of the lots and households are available on the sims 4 gallery. My id: simgraze

The downtown area of Newcrest is very sims 3 inspired, with many of the buildings taking influence from Sunset Valley. You can find the Doo Peas Corporate building for all of your freelance sims to visit. Check out the Sunset Plaza shops, including a gym, grocery store, bookstore, and thrift store. Get political at Town Hall and meet Mayor Avanche, who may be engaged in a lively debate. Have drinks at Waylon's Sports Bar, or grab dinner at the Sims 3 Bistro, or the run-down diner next door.

With plenty of drama, and 3 lots ready for your sims to move into, Newcrest is a great place for sims of all ages who are looking for a fresh start.

Thank you to everyone who has supported my channel during this process, your love and comments on my update videos definitely encouraged me to keep going!

Also a big thank you to everyone who has submitted sims for me to use on the gallery <3

In terms of future updates, Willow Creek and San Myshuno are both in the works. I have no idea when they will be released, but I definitely want to release those updates at some point.

(Not Required, but what I use). The only mods that I recommend in terms of keeping sims in your neighborhood is Home Regions by Kuttoe. I like messing with my settings so that only sims from Willow Creek and Newcrest will populate my world.

The map override I am using by dershayan.

YouTube video showing more about the save-file.

If you end up playing in this save, I would love to see your screenshots, gameplay, etc. with #simgrazesavefile

save-file download | lots and households guide