#single thread math

[gay-mathematician-portmanteau]

single thread math episode 14: cauchy-euler, cauchy-riemann, cauchy-gorsat. always the bridesmaid never the bride, eh, cauchy?

[starvinginbelair]

your reblog on my sideblog post was just <3 <3 please tell me your fave part of the artist friendly episode!

hi !!!!!! i get so few asks these days so every time i get an ask i'm like for ME?????? 😊😊😊😊

i haven't listened to the artist friendly episode in full for a while but there are SO many little moments i adore from it. i really love hearing ashton talk about his artistic process as a whole, because i find he's so unbearably passionate about it, in a very sincere way. i always get this sense of authenticity from him that i feel doesn't really come across often with many other artists!

my first favourite part is obviously when he talks about his writing relationship with luke. of course, we know they write hit songs together (and like they are hit songs), but the fact that he describes it as a safe zone for him is so sweet. like it's very clear they're comfortable with one another, and hearing how deep their connection is, was just very nice. ashton's also talked about before how he "writes songs he thinks luke needs to hear" sometimes so, that's also incoherent screaming inducing cause wow their relationship is just so so so special.

second fave part was when ashton was talking about calum and their musical relationship! i think it's so heartbreakingly beautiful that he feels like he and calum are connected on a soul level, with their music. as a former band and choir kid, i feel like it's so so underrated how making music together and performing it just bonds you like no other, and there really is a language made between bandmates. it's also special with 5sos in particular because they are one of the only bands that sort of came up in their "scene" that pretty much equally share writing and singing duties. when they get into that "groove zone" or however ash described it, it feels different from other bands because it's like oh! this is all music that we created from start to finish together, and isn't that just beautiful

finally, i really love ashton's take on just being in the industry, as a growing artists and as a drummer in general. especially with more of an optimistic look upon it. he's said in interviews for superbloom, that before 2020, there was a really long time where he thought that his role as a drummer in the band was suffocating. something along the lines of "i'm going to sit behind this drum kit and drum until i die and that's all i'll really be". but now, he really views the band as a vessel of creativity and that it is open and flexible to his ideas and own projects. and it feels like he's adopted more of a role as a guiding force in the band, and a creative, and i just think that sort of growth is amazing !

thank you for the wonderful ask and yk if you want to chat about this stuff i would be so open 🥰

[insertdisc5]

📚 A List Of Useful Websites When Making An RPG 📚

My timeloop RPG In Stars and Time is done! Which means I can clear all my ISAT gamedev related bookmarks. But I figured I would show them here, in case they can be useful to someone. These range from "useful to write a story/characters/world" to "these are SUPER rpgmaker focused and will help with the terrible math that comes with making a game".

This is what I used to make my RPG game, but it could be useful for writers, game devs of all genres, DMs, artists, what have you. YIPPEE

Writing (Names)

Behind The Name - Why don't you have this bookmarked already. Search for names and their meanings from all over the world!

Medieval Names Archive - Medieval names. Useful. For ME

City and Town Name Generator - Create "fake" names for cities, generated from datasets from any country you desire! I used those for the couple city names in ISAT. I say "fake" in quotes because some of them do end up being actual city names, especially for french generated ones. Don't forget to double check you're not 1. just taking a real city name or 2. using a word that's like, Very Bad, especially if you don't know the country you're taking inspiration from! Don't want to end up with Poopaville, USA

Writing (Words)

Onym - A website full of websites that are full of words. And by that I mean dictionaries, thesauruses, translators, glossaries, ways to mix up words, and way more. HIGHLY recommend checking this website out!!!

Moby Thesaurus - My thesaurus of choice!

Rhyme Zone - Find words that rhyme with others. Perfect for poets, lyricists, punmasters.

In Different Languages - Search for a word, have it translated in MANY different languages in one page.

ASSETS

In general, I will say: just look up what you want on itch.io. There are SO MANY assets for you to buy on itch.io. You want a font? You want a background? You want a sound effect? You want a plugin? A pixel base? An attack animation? A cool UI?!?!?! JUST GO ON ITCH.IO!!!!!!

Visual Assets (General)

Creative Market - Shop for all kinds of assets, from fonts to mockups to templates to brushes to WHATEVER YOU WANT

Velvetyne - Cool and weird fonts

Chevy Ray's Pixel Fonts - They're good fonts.

Contrast Checker - Stop making your text white when your background is lime green no one can read that shit babe!!!!!!

Visual Assets (Game Focused)

Interface In Game - Screenshots of UI (User Interfaces) from SO MANY GAMES. Shows you everything and you can just look at what every single menu in a game looks like. You can also sort them by game genre! GREAT reference!

Game UI Database - Same as above!

Sound Assets

Zapsplat, Freesound - There are many sound effect websites out there but those are the ones I saved. Royalty free!

Shapeforms - Paid packs for music and sounds and stuff.

Other

CloudConvert - Convert files into other files. MAKE THAT .AVI A .MOV

EZGifs - Make those gifs bigger. Smaller. Optimize them. Take a video and make it a gif. The Sky Is The Limit

Marketing

Press Kitty - Did not end up needing this- this will help with creating a press kit! Useful for ANY indie dev. Yes, even if you're making a tiny game, you should have a press kit. You never know!!!

presskit() - Same as above, but a different one.

Itch.io Page Image Guide and Templates - Make your project pages on itch.io look nice.

MOOMANiBE's IGF post - If you're making indie games, you might wanna try and submit your game to the Independent Game Festival at some point. Here are some tips on how, and why you should.

Game Design (General)

An insightful thread where game developers discuss hidden mechanics designed to make games feel more interesting - Title says it all. Check those comments too.

Game Design (RPGs)

Yanfly "Let's Make a Game" Comics - INCREDIBLY useful tips on how to make RPGs, going from dungeons to towns to enemy stats!!!!

Attack Patterns - A nice post on enemy attack patterns, and what attacks you should give your enemies to make them challenging (but not TOO challenging!) A very good starting point.

How To Balance An RPG - Twitter thread on how to balance player stats VS enemy stats.

Nobody Cares About It But It’s The Only Thing That Matters: Pacing And Level Design In JRPGs - a Good Post.

Game Design (Visual Novels)

Feniks Renpy Tutorials - They're good tutorials.

I played over 100 visual novels in one month and here’s my advice to devs. - General VN advice. Also highly recommend this whole blog for help on marketing your games.

I hope that was useful! If it was. Maybe. You'd like to buy me a coffee. Or maybe you could check out my comics and games. Or just my new critically acclaimed game In Stars and Time. If you want. Ok bye

[gingersxng]

Quickie O’Clock

Pairing: f!reader x Yunho

Genre: smut 18+

Summary: who knew crossing paths with a tall handsome guy in school would lead to so much more than just homework.

Notes: sub!reader, dom!yunho, basketball player yunho, big dick yunho, quickies, lots of ass grabbing, public sex, unprotected sex (always keep safe), creampie, lots of teasing, reader flashing herself, fingering, lots of cum, oral m.receiving. maybe forgot something

Words: 2.6k

to be honest, the college life was a whole rollercoaster ride. work here work there, do this do that. having to push yourself to get good grades although you hated studying, but you promised yourself not to fail your last year. your grades had been hanging on a thin thread for quite awhile now and so your mental health as a result. why should it be so hard to study and do good for once? that was a phrase that constantly crossed your mind. you still lived home with your parents and they were the best at showing you how bad you did at school, good grades were super important to them and they wouldn’t let you screw “them” up no no. you had four older sisters and every single one of them had turned out great, they had big houses, husbands, children and great jobs… but you, you had nothing. not even a boyfriend. being the only child at home was boring and you didn’t have a lot of friends either, well you had some friends but you never wanted to hang out with them on your spare time. having a boyfriend was something you never thought of before, it just didn’t seem interesting to have someone to share you life with. well that was until last week when you walked alone in the school corridors on your way to get your books when Yunho came walking the opposite direction. when he passed you he looked at you with a light smirk on his face and raised his eyebrows. you could only give him a smile back and it felt like your heart was about to jump out of your chest. it was all over in two seconds but something happened to you.

you knew who Yunho was cause he was in the schools basketball team but you’ve never felt something for him before. he was tall and handsome, he had black hair and glasses and hands big as U.F.Os. during your last class which was ofc math you couldn’t do anything else than think about Yunho. flying off to dreamland looking out the window biting your pen you were soon interrupted by your teacher calling your name. “y/n i know it’s the last class of the day but you can at least try do one thing before you can go home”.

it was 3:30pm and you’d finally finished for the day. you went down to your locker as fast as you could to grab your things. when you shut the locker door you were startled by a tall guy, yes it was Yunho. you could feel your bare knees shake but hopefully it wasn’t noticeable. “hi, can I help you?” you tried to sound like you didn’t care. this time it was a whole new Yunho who’s standing in front you, his eyes were big and puppy like and he had a cute smile on his face. “it’s y/n right?” he asked nicely. you gave him a nod, how did he know your name?. “I think you’re really pretty and was wondering if you maybe wanted to hang out sometime?” he said with confidence in his voice. for a second you froze in place before you could get any words out. “sure, I’d be happy to” you said closing your locker and walked away. when you walked towards the door you glanced back to see if he was gone but instead you caught him looking at you with the same look on his face as when you passed each other in the corridor. you turned your head back around and headed out the door.

you didn’t get much sleep this night cause your brain was on high the whole time thinking about Yunho, why are you obsessing over a guy you don’t even know?you started your day by grabbing your things from the locker as usual before heading to class, the butterflies in your stomach went crazy from the thought of meeting him somewhere in the school corridors but you didn’t. closing the door to the classroom you took your seat which was way back in the corner, you had to pay attention to this class cause you were having a test next week. and actually you did kinda good for a change.

when your class was over it was time for lunch, you hated lunch break cause you didn’t have any friends.. well you did but they were never waiting for you and was always left alone in the end. so you went to grab a banana from your bag and placed yourself down on a bench. suddenly you heard a familiar voice behind you. “why aren’t you at lunch?” Yunho said tilting his head with his hands in his pockets. “wasn’t hungry..” he walked over so he was standing in front of you, arms crossed and you couldn’t help but noticing that he was very focused on that banana you were eating. you felt yourself getting more flushed while he stared at you, his eyes almost darkened. finishing the banana you stood up quickly and were going to get your stuff but out of nowhere he grabbed your wrist pulling you back to him. if your heart was about to jump out of your chest yesterday it stopped now. “wha-what are you doing?” you snapped. “calm down I’m not gonna hurt you” he said with a chuckle. “I’ve been watching you for a long time and I think you’re a very pretty girl” he said still holding a tight grip around your wrist. omg he likes you too! “thank you” you said giving him a smile. the grip loosened and his hands went down to your waist making your eyes widen. his face came so close to yours you could feel his breath on your skin. “I’ve got this feeling you like me too, is that right?” he whispered making you shiver. you looked him in the eyes taking a deep breath as you gave him a nod. a smirk formed on his lips and he closed the gap between you both, you didn’t hesitate but gave in to the kiss opening your mouth to let his tongue inside. Yunhos hands travelled down to your ass and under your skirt. you pulled away holding down your skirt. “we’re in the school corridor anyone can walk by any second and if they catch us like this..” you said trying to keep your voice down as much as possible so no one could hear. “then come with me” he grabbed your wrist again dragging you with him. all the way down in the corridor was a old janitors closet no one used anymore, Yunho opened the door and you went in.

it hadn’t been used in years so the light didn’t work anymore. you could only feel him against you but you couldn’t see anything. Yunho smashed his lips into yours and his hands were everywhere, you couldn’t believe you were obsessing over Yunho and now suddenly you were in the janitors closet with his tongue down your throat. his hands grabbed your ass cheeks and kneaded them slowly, then one hand cupped your heat pressing a finger against your clit. you let out a small moan, you could feel him smirk against your lips. your knees weakened a bit when he rubbed your clit through your panties. “how did you get so wet so fast huh?” he kissed your neck. one of your hands travelled down and you could feel a huge bulge in his jeans. you palmed him making him groan. he took your hands away and turned you around so your back was facing him. the sound of his belt unbuckling made your pussy throb. as you weren’t able to see anything you didn’t know how big he was, I mean Yunho was a very big boy and by that his dick must be too. Yunho lifted your skirt up and pulled your panties to the side. you were already so wet so he didn’t need to prep you. he put his tip sliding it along your folds collecting your arousal. “lunch break is almost over so we have to be quick” you interrupted. “and you have to be quiet” he said sliding his whole cock in without giving you time to adjust his big member. a big gasp escaped your lips. you held on for dear life as Yunho sped up his pace pounding into you from behind. “shit it feels so good” he said through gritted teeth. his cock was so big yet so perfect for your hole, he could make you see stars.

he sneaked a hand down to your clit rubbing it in fast circles and the other hand reaching in under your bra pulling it down so your boobs fell out. he then pinched a nipple in between his fingers earning a moan from you. “shh you have to be quiet love” he whispered in your ear. his pace fastened and you could feel your orgasm creeping up on you. it was hard to keep yourself from screaming when Yunho slammed his big dick into your small tight pussy. Yunho pulled away his hand from your clit and onto your mouth cause he was almost about to come and he could feel you were close too by the way your pussy clenched around him. his thrusts got sloppy and his breathing got faster. the eyes rolled back in your head as you felt the knot in your stomach burst. Yunho put his face in the crook of your neck letting out a deep groan as you felt him cum inside you, squeezing your boob hard. not long after you came all over his dick moaning into his hand. Yunho pulled out and put your panties in place again. cum leaking out of you past your panties. Yunho buckled his jeans and opened the door. you could feel cum dripping along your inner thighs and you began to panic. “I can’t go like this, I have a new class in five minutes” the fear in your voice made him laugh. “do you have to go?” he raised an eyebrow. you stopped and looked at him. “my grades are already super bad I can’t just not go to class” he lowered himself so you were face to face “well you decide, I have basketball practice now so I gotta go” he gave you a quick kiss and walked away.

- time skip -

you went to Yunhos basketball training after you were done for the day. you sneaked in quietly and took a seat to watch him play. the cum on your thighs and underwear had dried up and you felt so gross, it was his fault you were in this mess but it was also worth it. you put your feet up on the low railing to get more comfortable but you didn’t think about that you were only wearing a skirt so basically your panties was showing off so anyone could see.

when they had played one game it was time for a little break. Yunho turned your way and couldn’t help but notice you having your whole bottom on display. there still was a light stain on your panties from the cum and your ass cheeks were red as well. Yunho felt his ears turn red and his dick waking up. he walked over to you pushing your legs down. “the heck are you doing flashing yourself for the whole team!?” you didn’t understand a thing you just looked clueless. “what do you mean flashing myself why would I do that?”. “I think I know why..” he gave you a bitter look. Yunho ran over to his coach and you saw him asking something quick before he headed back your way. “I told my coach I need to have a talk with you”.

he guided you back to the changing rooms and slammed you against the wall, looking you up and down as he was biting his lower lip and his eyes were filled with lust. he parted your legs with his knee and pressed his body onto yours so you could feel his rock hard boner on your lower belly. “I swear every time you wear this skirt I get so damn hard” he growled as he tugged on your earlobe. “then I’ll always wear it” you teased him. Yunho pulled up your skirt and slipped his hand inside your underwear feeling the slimy consistency between your folds. “I think someone else is excited as well hmm?” he pushed two fingers inside your hole pumping them in and out. you closed your eyes tight and put your hand on your mouth to keep as quiet as possible but it was hard when he put his thumb on your clit and fastened his pace. it didn’t take long before you milked around his fingers, cum dripping down on the floor. your knees were shaking as you did your best to stand up. “look at you such a mess” Yunho chuckled as he licked his fingers clean. he then pushed you down so you sat on your knees looking up at him with hazy eyes. he pulled down his shorts and boxers enough to let his erect dick spring free standing up against his stomach. you gulped when you saw the big veiny cock in front of you, the tip was swollen and leaking precum. he took the tip to your lips. “open wide and be a good girl” you opened your mouth and gave the tip a few licks before wrapping your lips around him bobbing your head. Yunho threw his head back and let out a deep moan. he brushed your hair behind the ear and held the rest up for you in a ponytail. it was hard not to gag when his big dick kissed the back of your throat and you felt yourself getting a bit dizzy from the lack of air.

you sped up the pace and took him in all the way to the base of his cock, your nose touching his pubic bone. “f-fuck i’m gonna cum aah” Yunho started to thrust his hips to get more friction. there were drool hanging out the corners of your mouth and you felt his cock twitch. you looked up at Yunho struggling to keep himself together, his hair sticking to his forehead and sweat dripping down his neck and chest. he stopped your movements and along with a big groan you felt hot fluids spilling down your throat. you swallowed it all and stuck out your tongue showing him that it was all gone. “damn you’re good at this” he smirked looking down at you. he put himself back in his shorts and you fixed your skirt. none of you bothered to clean up the mess on the floor. “so.. should we date or just fuck?” Yunho asked while he had one eyebrow raised. that was a question you weren’t prepared for. “maybe we’ll just fuck for a while and then we’ll see..” you said biting your lip to tease him some more. “you better go back out there before your coach kills you” you said heading out the door. you had pulled your skirt up so your ass cheeks poked out knowing Yunho would watch you. his eyes were stuck on your ass until you were out of sight. he felt himself getting hard again, a big upset sigh left his lips.

when he got back home he took care of the problem himself cause he had to wait until tomorrow to get his dick sucked again.

[tinytalkingtina]

Your Loss, My Gain

Rating M | WC 665 | Ao3 link

Tags: past Tommy/Eddie, first kisses, self-esteem, Gay Tommy/Eddie, Steve is some flavor of queer it's not important for this story what label he uses, established Steve/Eddie, possessive Steve, hurt/comfort, implied/referenced blow jobs and anal sex, use of the f slur

Written for the STWG Novembr 9th prompt "True hate's kiss" Thanks to steddiecamerarollgraphics for the divider

Steve shot straight up from the bed.

"Who?!?" Eddie shrugged. 

"Tommy H. The summer before my freshman year."

"What was that, 1980?” Steve asked, doing the math in his head quickly. “Shit, Tommy and I weren't even friends yet. Didn't know he ever talked to you before you started selling weed.”

Eddie blushed.

"When his family first moved here they were in the trailer park for a year before his dad came off of active duty. We spent a lot of time running around together. It's just…” He picked at a loose thread on the blanket. 

“One day he was upset we were going to different schools in the fall, kept saying I was gonna forget him. He looked so sad, I couldn't stand it anymore. Just kinda-" He gave the quickest peck to Steve’s lips. “And told him I couldn’t forget my first kiss.”

“Oh. What'd he do when you did it?"

Eddie curled up and put his head in Steve’s lap.

"Kissed me back for a second before he punched me in the face, called me a fag, and threatened that I'd better not touch him ever again or else he’d beat the shit out of me.”

Steve stroked Eddie’s hair. It had the desired effect when some of the tension left his boyfriend’s shoulders, and Eddie closed his eyes as he continued:

“Never gave him a reason to worry after that. By the time he got to high school too I’d already joined Hellfire and found new friends, and he was busy with basketball and swimming. So it’s not like we crossed paths much. Least ’til I started dealing.”

Steve remembered how insistent Tommy had been to go put up with “the Freak” alone at any party where Eddie showed up.

“When he bought weed off you, did he…” he asked carefully. Eddie barked out a hollow laugh.

“Yeah, yeah he’d have no problem with me touching him when he was drunk off his ass, and him and Carol had broken up for what, the fifth time that year? Had it down to a choreographed dance: We’d make out for a bit then he’d push me down to the ground, ‘cause it’s totally fine to get a blow job from another guy. It’s not gay if you’re not the one on your knees you know.”

Steve felt wetness on his leg.

“And the worst thing? I let him do it. Every single fucking time. Didn’t have enough respect to shove him away. Figured this ‘true hate’s kiss’ shit I got from Tommy was the best I was gonna get so might as well take the stupid scraps of affection he bothered throwing my way. Not like there was anyone else lined up to take his place.”

Steve waited until his boyfriend’s breathing evened out before speaking up.

“Hey.” He tilted Eddie’s face until he could see his red rimmed eyes. “Fuck Tommy.”

That startled a laugh out of him.

“Sweetheart, I love topping for you when the mood strikes us, but I really would prefer not to fuck another closeted guy for the rest of my life.”

Steve laughed and scooped Eddie up in his arms.

“Please, like I would want to share you with anyone else. Really, fuck him for trying to have it both ways, and fuck that town that convinced you to give up.”

Before Eddie, Steve had always tried to squash the little voice in his head that insisted he go all out and show how badly he wanted. But now, as he held Eddie tight, he didn’t mind letting the little voice out.

“You’re mine.” 

He was going to keep Eddie for the rest of his life. And the crazy thing was, he was pretty sure Eddie wanted the same thing, judging by the awestruck expression and blush on his face whenever Steve got possessive like this.

“Your loss Tommy,” Steve thought as he ducked down to kiss Eddie. He was going to keep his happy ending.

Author's notes -You can't convince me that sports-obsessed Steve isn't good at math -Read another story that made Tommy's family a military one and rather liked the idea, so I decided to add that in here too

On a personal level, this was an awful week where I spent a lot of time in hospitals/a funeral home. This had been mostly written before that all happened, and I wasn't sure if I should post it. Managed to find a moment to feel comfortable sitting down and finishing it, so I'm just gonna put it up as is for now.

[miasmaghoul]

Kinktober Day 2 - Quintosis Control

Pull Me Under

Thank you to @kroas-adtam for curating these prompts!

Rating: E

Pairing: Aeon/Dew (but also technically Aether/Dew)

Word Count: 2.3k

Contains: quintosis (obviously), oral, fingering, anal, prone bone, phone sex, Dew getting fucked in literally every possible way

-----

Aeon stares at the ghoul knelt between his legs with a raised eyebrow. Dew tilts his head, palming Aeon through his jeans with a placid smile on his face. His expression remains guarded though, and Aeon supposes that makes sense.

After all, this isn’t the most…common of requests. 

“So,” Dew murmurs, fiddling with Aeon’s zipper, “think you can do it?”

Aeon hums while the smaller ghoul drags the closure down, reaching out to twirl a loose lock of ashy blonde hair hanging from Dew’s bun. It’s softer, somehow, when they’re stuck in glamour like this. Only their unearthly eyes give away their true nature, and Dew’s copper ones burn up at him like miniature suns. Warm fingers wriggle into his jeans, pet at his slowly growing chubby, and Aeon spreads his knees just a little wider.

-----

Read the rest below, or on AO3!

Aeon stares at the ghoul knelt between his legs with a raised eyebrow. Dew tilts his head, palming Aeon through his jeans with a placid smile on his face. His expression remains guarded though, and Aeon supposes that makes sense.

After all, this isn’t the most…common of requests. 

“So,” Dew murmurs, fiddling with Aeon’s zipper, “think you can do it?”

Aeon hums while the smaller ghoul drags the closure down, reaching out to fiddle with a loose lock of ashy blonde hair hanging from Dew’s bun. It’s softer, somehow, when they’re stuck in glamour like this. Only their unearthly eyes give away their true nature, and Dew’s copper ones burn up at him like miniature suns. Warm fingers wriggle into his jeans, pet at his slowly growing chubby, and Aeon spreads his knees just a little wider.

“Don’t see why not,” he replies, cheeks dimpling under a playful smile. “If it’s something you really want.” Aeon groans when Dew pulls him from the confines of his pants, sighs when Dew wraps bony fingers around him. 

“It is,” the other ghoul assures him, leaning in to swipe his tongue over Aeon’s tip just enough to make him grunt. “Wanted to ask for a while, actually.”

Dew’s giving him slow strokes now, languid drags of a loose fist. Aeon knows he’s going to be dripping in no time. He pulls the tie in Dew’s hair, tosses it away in favor of threading his hand into those impossibly soft strands. Dew’s eyes droop just right whenever he does this, and Aeon watches a little bit of the apprehension on his handsome face melt away. His other hand fists itself in the comforter of the hotel bed he’d fallen onto for all of ten seconds before Dew had wrestled him to the end of it. 

Not that Aeon’s complaining, mind. Having any part of Dew on his cock is always an occasion worth celebrating.

“Why haven’t you, then?”

Dew shrugs, that one little crease forming between his eyebrows. The one he wears when he’s focused on a solo, or when Cirrus asks him to do mental math. Aeon thumbs over the spot where one of his horns should be, and Dew’s shoulders slump a hair.

“Thought it might be weird.” Well, he’s not wrong about that. “Thought it might, y’know,” the little ghoul makes a vague gesture, focused only on the way his hand glides over Aeon’s cock. “Thought it might be too much.”

If Aeon’s fangs were out, he’d be smiling with every single one.

“Good thing I’m a fan of ��too much’, ” he croons, giving Dew’s hair a tug. Hard enough to make his hand stutter and his eyes pinch shut. “And I know you are too -”

Aeon leans down, slow and with purpose. Invades the space Dew has made for himself and earns a surprised blink for it. Aeon sighs while he nuzzles their cheeks together, hearing Dew’s breath catch, basking in the warmth of his skin. He presses a kiss to the other ghoul’s ear, and it carries the smallest of sparks.

“- firefly.”

The word drips in magick, and Aeon can tell by the shocked sound Dew makes that he doesn’t hear it entirely in his voice. He can feel his power sink into Dew’s skin, feels the rush of static that flows beneath his scalp and through the callused fingers curled around him. A pulse of something unnaturally cool that has Dew shuddering. Aeon pulls back to find Dew looking suddenly much looser. Shoulders rounded, eyes wrinkled at the corners and glassy, his smile something more than skin-deep. The very specific visage of someone in the beginnings of quintessence-fueled bliss. 

“That feel good? Looks like it does,” Aeon lilts, the hand buried in the blanket coming up to cup the little ghoul’s cheek. “But you’ll need more than that for what you’re asking, y’know.”

Dew makes an affirmative sound, not quite a word but close enough. His hand starts moving again and Aeon feels the muscles in his stomach jump - Dew’s hands always have that effect on him. He takes a deep breath through his nose, scratching at Dew’s scalp while the first wave of his magick settles into the folds of his mind. Aeon groans with the casual way the other ghoul takes his tip between his lips, hot tongue sliding over sensitive flesh. Aeon gives his hair the suggestion of a stern pull, and delights in the way Dew just…takes it. Takes more of him into that silken mouth, enough so the blunt head of Aeon’s cock pokes his hollowed cheek. Makes a lovely bump that Aeon can’t help but run his thumb over.

“Ready for more?” 

He probably shouldn’t be so breathless already, but Dew’s mouth does have that effect on…well, everybody. The little ghoul pulls off with a wet pop, smears the tip over his own lips to leave them wet and shiny. A decidedly slutty move that makes Aeon’s balls ache.

“Yeah, I think you are,” he huffs, cheeks warm. Aeon runs a hand through his own hair with a chuckle. “Wanna call now? Or after I get my fingers in you?”

Dew makes a strangled sound, scrambles for his phone, and as his dick is left to bob freely in the air Aeon has his answer. 

He chuckles softly, stretches his arms over his head while Dew fumbles through his contacts. Rolls his eyes when the other ghoul drops the phone in his eagerness. Aeon stands, busies himself with gathering lube and arranging pillows, but keeps an eye on Dew through it all. He raises the phone to his ear just as Aeon’s shrugging out of his t-shirt. He hears it ring while he shucks his belt, and Aeon pauses with his jeans around his thighs when his sharp ears pick up a click. A deep, familiar voice follows it, Dew presses a flat palm to his crotch, and a thrill runs up Aeon’s spine when the little ghoul says,

“Hey, Aeth. Got a proposition for you.”

Things move quickly after that. Aether had been immediately, enthusiastically on board with Dew’s idea, faster than Aeon had expected. Something that told him the other two had definitely discussed this before. In no time Aeon had Dew over his lap, sitting up against the headboard with the little ghoul drooling into the sheets with each press of Aeon’s fingers. 

Fingers that, at least for Dew, feel like someone else’s entirely.

“Aether,” he slurs, sounding more fucked up that Aeon think he’s ever heard him, “Aeth, please -”

The word blurs into a moan when Aeon crooks his fingers just so, knuckles rubbing against Dew’s prostate. Aeon feels a blurt of pre leak out onto his thigh and heaves a happy sigh when Dew clamps down around him. He keeps quiet as he can, though. He isn’t the one Dewdrop needs to hear right now.

“That feel good, baby?” Aether’s smooth voice rings tinny through the phone’s speaker, but only to Aeon. For Dew, he’s sure the words flow directly into his veins. “You love my fingers, don’t you?”

Aeon twists his digits the exact way he knows Aether would - one benefit of his unparalleled sense memory - and fills the little ghoul’s mind with the burn of a much more intense stretch. One that has Dew crying out, fingers curling into rumpled sheets and his little hole clenching hard. Aeon only has two fingers inside, but with the way Dew’s writhing you’d think he was taking all five.

Ah, the power of suggestion.

“So good,” Dew mumbles, strands of hair stuck to his sweaty forehead. He’s flushed crimson straight down his throat; Aeon can’t believe how fucked out he looks already, but he imagines the magick isn’t exactly helping in that regard. “‘S so much, Aeth, so big -”

“I know, firefly,” Aether trills, gentle, “but you take them so well for me. In fact, I think you deserve another one.”

Aeon takes the hint, pulling back to the first knuckle and running a third fingertip over Dew’s taut rim. The little ghoul makes the most wonderful gagging sound, one that’s only amplified when Aeon slides back inside with three elegant fingers. Dew howls once they’re fully in, fists white-knuckled in the bedsheets. Aeon’s other hand rubs soothing circles into his lower back, just like Aether would, and Aeon makes sure that hand feels heavier too.

It’s a delicate process, manipulating Dew’s mind and body at once. Sending tendrils of quintessence into the recesses of his mind and pulling on wispy threads of memory. The specific timbre of Aether’s voice, the weight of his touch, the warmth of his breath, the scent of his sweat. Immersing the little ghoul into a haze that erases Aeon’s presence entirely. It may be his touch Dew’s feeling, but right now his whole world is Aether and if Dew keeps making these noises then Aeon certainly won’t complain. His own pleasure will be playing second fiddle tonight anyway.

Aeon taps at his prostate and Dew’s leg spasms.

“Aeth - Aether please ,” Dew whimpers, gasping between the words. “'S been so long. Need… need you, please -”

Aeon doesn’t think he’s ever heard Dewdrop sound so desperate. It’s beautiful .

“You’ve got me, sweet boy,” Aether assures. “Can’t you feel me?”

Aeon swirls his fingers, slides his palm up the length of Dew’s spine, and the little ghoul goes boneless in his lap with a noise that speaks to how far gone he is. Aeon’s drunk on the feel of him, the sound, the sight of his lovely face scrunched up in agonizing pleasure. His own erection has long since flagged, but the pressure low in his belly hasn’t dissipated in the slightest. 

“Need…more,” Dew pants, pawing at the bed and mindlessly grinding his hot little stiffy into Aeon’s thigh. “Need…Aeth, fuck me. ”

Dew pleads it like his life is ending and Aeon’s head thuds against the headboard with the effort of remaining silent. Aether must hear the thunk , judging by the amusement coloring his next words.

“Of course, droplet,” he hums, and if he listens close Aeon can just make out the slippery sound of Aether tugging at himself. “Whatever you want.”

Aeon moves the slight body in his lap with mild difficulty - he’s not all that much bigger than Dew when they’re glamoured like this, and the little ghoul is entirely too gangly for his own good. Aether orchestrates his movements, tells Dew he’s going to take him on his belly, the way they do when he really needs to feel Aether. Gets Dew face down with a pillow snuggled under his narrow hips, legs spread just enough for Aeon to admire his pretty pink hole while he gets a hand on himself. He’s hard as diamond again in seconds, impossible not to be with Dew like this.

“Are you ready for me, firefly?” 

The little ghoul gurgles out an uh huh at Aether’s words, and Aeon takes that as his cue to get in position. His heart hammers away while he does, fingers jittery as he straddles Dew’s thighs. Plants his hands on either side of his chest. Leans down to kiss the place between Dew’s shoulder blades. Aeon reaches back to line himself up, prods at Dew’s puffy entrance with his own wet tip, and the way it slips over that wrinkled skin makes Aeon’s eyes roll back.

“I’m gonna put it in now, alright?”

“Yes,” Dew sobs on an exhale, sweat prickling up along the length of his spine. “Fuck, yes .”

Aeon holds his breath, every inch of him thrumming, and then he’s sinking in with a slowness he’s never employed. But it’s necessary with the way he floods Dew’s magick-addled mind with the glorious stretch Aether’s fat cock instead. He can hear Aether talking somewhere distant, but the only thing Aeon can focus on are the stunning cries pouring from Dew’s lips. Aeon has to work to keep his own shut, nails biting into his palms with every rock of his hips.

“Deep breaths, love,” Aether rumbles through the din of pleasure, his tone making even Aeon’s stomach twist. “I know you can take it.” 

Dew wails, and Aeon can’t hold in the groan that bubbles up when he finally bottoms out. Dew’s walls are like searing hot velvet around him, so slick that Aeon can feel it leaking out around his cock. The little ghoul flutters ceaselessly around him, and it’s nothing short of maddening.

“There we go, well done.” Aether coos down the line, soothing. Calming. Aeon brings a shaky hand to Dew’s head, strokes his hair. Plays out the intent so plainly coloring Aether’s words. “Are you ready for the rest of me, baby?”

Dew nods frantically against the sheets, and Aeon focuses. Lowers his own wiry frame down onto the little ghoul’s sweaty back while Aether reminds him again to breathe. Dew needs it - every bit of himself that Aeon settles against Dew’s body seems to knock the air from him in punched-out huffs. Aeon shouldn’t be so surprised, not when he knows that Dew’s feeling a much, much heavier weight.

“Oh, Dew,” Aether sighs, the sound of his strokes much more obvious now, “ you feel fucking amazing.” 

Aeon’s inclined to agree, relaxing his full weight onto the little ghoul below and giving the sublest roll of his hips. Just enough to make Dew yelp. He buries his nose in silky hair and breathes deep, warm spice and tobacco, hands traveling up his sides. Grazing Dew’s straining ribs, caressing his shoulders, mapping soft skin. The hair on Dew’s arms tickles his palms, the veins on the back of his hands so pronounced beneath his fingertips.

“Aeth,” Dew whimpers, patting at the bed, blindly searching. “Aeth, where -”

Aeon laces his fingers with Dew’s then, and the little ghoul wastes no time in holding his hand right back.   

“I’ve got you, baby boy,” Aether promises, husky with lust Aeon swears he can feel through the phone. “Daddy’s gonna take such good care of you.”

His cock throbs, Dew moans so loud it rattles his chest, and Aeon makes a mental note to ask Aether about that little exchange later.

Much later.

[dogsplayingpoker]

(math is part of planning)

[translatemunson]

thought of calling you, but you won’t pick up • ttfd

chapter four of the tortured firefighters department

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

cw: fem!reader, afab!reader, no descriptions of reader, banter (because i love it), reader is a math and science nerd, chris is here, mentions of food, hints of mental issues, proofread by my bye-lingual ass (let me know if i forgot anything)

You checked your phone again. Last night, Eddie texted that Carla would be joining you and Chris on your small field trip because he forgot he had booked her for the day. You never met the lady, but you were sure it was gonna be fine. With an extra adult ticket in your pocket, you waited.

Fifteen minutes and no sign of them. Maybe you should text Eddie and get Carla’s number? She was probably stuck in traffic, but that information would ease your worries — and you could help her avoid the even worse routes the apps were giving these days. At this pace, you’d wear off the soles of your white Nike Dunk and pull every single thread of your maroon sweater.

You were about to text Eddie when you saw the black Jeep Wrangler parking not a few spots down to your left. No fucking way, you thought as you marched into its direction.

“Let’s go, Chris, we’re gonna be late!” Buck helped the kid out of the car and picked up a small paper bag before closing the door.

“Hey, Chris! Are you excited?” You hugged him and kept your hands on his shoulder, finally looking at the one person you’ve been successfully avoiding. “Thanks for dropping him off, Buckley. Is Carla joining us later?”

“Actually, I’m on babysitting duty today.” He extended you the paper bag. “Peace offering?”

“What is this?”

“The reason why we were late.” He insisted you accept the bag. “C’mon, aren’t you curious?”

“He said you’d like it,” Chris added. 

You accepted the gift, peaking it before opening the bag and finding one of your favorite cupcakes from your favorite bakery. The one from the incident that set the whole “we could be friends” situation on fire.

“Can we call it a truce for today?” It was implied, but he was definitely saying this for Chris’ sake.

“Ok, just today. But this doesn’t make things magically disappear, Buckley.”

“Why do you call him Buckley?” Chris asked you, his head tilted in your direction. “I call him Buck!”

“She’s mad at me, little guy.” He took a step closer to you two, probably testing the waters. “Did you get the tickets?”

“Who do you think I am? But give me one second, I can’t enter the museum with food.”

“Take your time. Wanna see if we can get to the museum before Brains, Chris?” And off they went.

You were almost sure Eddie planned this out. Leaving you to babysit his son and his annoying friend, who everyone under the 118 roof knew you were avoiding. One hundred percent intentional, right? And of course he would be late because he drove all the way to Santa Monica to buy your favorite cupcake — someone gave him a tip.

You started to feel a bit sad for ignoring his calls and texts all week long. But you pushed it away while you ate the cupcake and watched the boys walking to the entrance. With your clean hand, you gave Buck the tickets and told them to go ahead and go all the way back after the main hall: it was smart to take advantage of the morning weather on the Nature Gardens outside and explore all the fossils and animals later on. 

You were just a few steps behind when you caught up with them in the outdoor gardens. As a newcomer to this whole Chris’ babysitter duty job, you left to Buck to finish the small walk around the main paths. It was a good opportunity to text Eddie and say that, even though you offered to take Chris to the Museum, you were only assigned to take care of one kid, not two. In his best single-father in the middle of a shift style, he texted you a ‘thumbs up’ back. Oh he was so hearing about it later.

The Natural History Museum in Los Angeles was definitely packed with exhibitions that could keep a child and adults entertained. You’d been there once, as soon as you moved to LA, almost a year ago now, and the featured exhibitions were different back then, but still a pretty good curating work after all.

However, the moment Chris saw the Dinosaur Hall and the Dino Lab, you knew it was over for any other exhibitions. And could you blame him? The dinos were pretty badass and Chris was a very curious kid, so he kept asking you all the questions you could’ve imagined — and a few more you weren’t prepared for. You acted like his own private tour guide, proud of spending some time researching and studying about dinosaurs the last few days.

You almost missed all the attention Buck was giving to you while you talked. To be honest, you couldn’t tell who was more focused on you: the kid or the annoying adult.

After all that talking, you for sure were starting to feel a little tired and overwhelmed. Even with short breaks for some water, you still felt like you needed a reset. You signaled to Buck that you’re going to the restroom for a second, he kept reading Chris the charts about butterflies and insects.

You washed your hands and used some of the water on your neck, trying to calm yourself down. How did you go from wanting Buckley’s head on a plate to babysitting with him? Life was fast and unpredictable by the Pacific shore. One lady entered the restroom and stopped by the sink to your right, trying to get rid of the chocolate and ketchup in her hands. You saw her a few minutes ago, when you stopped to grab some water.

“Can I just say you are an adorable couple? And your son is so sweet.” Her tone was sweet and definitely meant well. But she was so wrong about everything.

“Oh, he’s not our kid,” you rushed to explain the situation. “We’re just babysitting for a friend while he’s working.”

“Well, just like my grandparents told me once: sometimes you’ll have a taste of what your life could be with a special person at the moment you least expected.”

You smiled at her through the mirrors. “Did they give you any advice on how to know if it’s the right one?”

“No, but you look like someone who knows how to find that answer.” She threw the paper towels away. “Sorry for being so cryptic. Have fun!”

She left before you could even thank her for… well, the advice. Not that you asked for it, but it did show up in a nice time. Or maybe not. You weren’t sure. Did that truce mean you could let yourself feel everything you were repressing for the past few weeks? Not just regarding Evan Buckley and his lack of manners, but about everything in your life.

After all the dinosaurs and lectures about natural history, you decided to wrap up and move on to the next stop on your list. Buckley helped Chris get down the entry steps and you took the directions back to the parking lot close to the museum.

“Thanks for your services, Buckley. You can just,” you motioned your head to his car. “Ok, Chris. What do you wanna do now?” You opened your Uber app to get a ride to the next destination.

“Not necessary.” Buckley took the phone out of your hands and stored it into his jacket pocket. “I’m also the designated driver for the day.”

“What happened to you getting out of my hair?” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“I thought we were in this together.” He gave you the classic — and a little bit sassy — Buckley smile. He paid for the parking. “C’mon, Chris, we have places to go.”

The three of you walked to his car, but you were still not convinced. It was your idea to babysit Chris for the day, all your plans were picked towards your goal: having a nice and chill day with him. You didn’t need Evan Buckley and all his golden retriever energy to disturb your perfect equation.

While you were hating on him, he made sure Chris was comfortable and safe on the back seat. 

“Why are you ruining my plans?” You didn’t move from the driver’s door. Maybe, if you were warned beforehand you’d had to deal with him, you'd grow some patience. But not today, not this fast.

“I’m not. Still your plans with Chris. Tell me where to go next, I’ll drive us.”

“Give me my phone back.”

“Are you letting me be your driver today?” He leaned against the car.

“What choice do I have, Evan?” You rolled your eyes.

“Hey, I’ve told you I’m sorry.” You stepped aside, finally letting him grab the door handle. “Also, none of my friends call me Evan, by the way.”

“And since when am I your friend?”

“Since now. Hurry up, he’s gonna grow impatient and snap at us.”

“He would never do that.”

“Wanna test your theory, future doctor?”

“Not at all.”

He closed the door. You went around the vehicle, still pissed at him for taking your phone from you. You jumped into the car and checked Chris.

“Ok, are we hungry already or can we check out this cool place before that?”

“Pancakes!” Chris shouted from his seat. “Please?”

“Sure! Ok, let me just,” you instinctively reached out for your phone, but it was still being held hostage by Buck. “Phone, please.”

“Here,” he handed it to you, an aux cable attached to it. “Put the address in the GPS, and please play something kid friendly, ok?”

“Excuse me? What do you think I listen to while I’m driving to work?”

“With that sassy attitude of yours? I expect the worst.”

Just to prove him wrong, as soon as you entered the address on the GPS, you blasted one of your personal favorites. “I stay out too late, got nothing in my brain. That's what people say, mm-mm,” you sang.

“That's what people say, mm-mm,” and Chris, in the back seat, joined you.

You were definitely getting under Buck’s skin. The fact that you picked a song Chris knew the words too left him in disadvantage because you were sure he wanted the taste of saying “Told you so” as soon as he proved his point. But he should’ve known better than to provoke you.

“And the haters gonna hate, hate, hate. Baby, I’m just gonna shake, shake, shake. I shake it off!” You sang it right by Buck’s ear, dodging his hand because he was trying to get you out of his hair. Well, how does it feel now, Evan?

Your queue was really impressive: it looked like you were up-to-date with what the younger generation was listening to — not that you didn’t enjoy the same songs occasionally, but you never kept your options too narrow. There was just one scary moment where you thought you added an explicit song, but you deleted it in time. 

Buck was too busy following the GPS directions. You were stuck with him for the rest of the day, which was a nightmare by itself, and kinda stuck into the endless LA traffic. Chris didn’t notice the animosity between you because you both toned it down — for him, only for one day. Most of it sounded like some friendly banter.

Under the upbeat pop song you were playing, you could hear him singing another tune, barely familiar, but still unrecognizable.

“What’s that?”

“Oh, nothing.” He made a left turn, but kept on singing it. “If you could see it… been here all along… how could you not know baby.”

Without a warning, you typed the name of the song in your library and gave it priority in your queue. His fingers started tapping in the beat, and he started following the lyrics, saying the right words this time.

“If you could see that I'm the one who understands you, been here all along. So, why can't you see? You belong with me,” you two sang along together. But you really kept your poker face because you couldn’t give him any reasons to be even more annoying.

“Looks like we’ve arrived,” he announced, breaking the spell of one song.

Buck pointed to the restaurant you found a few months ago. It was located south of Santa Monica, a few blocks from the beach, but with the rooftop seats, you could definitely say you were eating by the beach. You parked not far from the entry, and you rushed upstairs to get one of those special tables, telling Buck to help Chris because you didn’t want to ruin the surprise.

On the very edge of the roof, your favorite table awaited you: closer to the corner, with a huge light blue umbrella over your head, the four seat table had the perfect view and vibes. You pulled a chair for your bag and greeted the waiter. She didn’t get why you were in a rush until she saw Chris on Buck’s back.

“Could you just pick a place with an elevator next time?”

“I thought you were the muscles, Buckley. Hey, Chris, let me help you.” You held him tight, removing him from Buck’s embrace and putting him on the floor. “I had to make sure we had the perfect table.”

Three stores of stairs, in a rush, were justified once you got to see the smile on Chris’ face. You could catch your breath later.

+++

Chris ate way too many pancakes. You’d have to do a lot of explaining to Eddie, but hey, if the kid was happy, how could that be a problem?

You had to cancel the last plan of the day — a trip to another museum — and settle down at an arcade close to the restaurant before ending your babysitting duty. Just buying you enough time to Eddie leave the firehouse and be home. So you were watching Buck and Chris playing some games while you tried to schedule some study breaks between classes and shifts.

“What’s wrong?” Buck sat down to your right. Chris was just in your sight, in case he needed more coins or any help.

“Nothing.” You turned off your phone screen, ignoring your packed schedule.

“It doesn’t look like nothing.” He gave you a little smudge on the shoulder. “C’mon, Brains, talk to me.”

“I’m just a bit tired, it’s fine.”

“You know, you can go home now, I’ll take him to Eddie’s. You look like you need a good night of sleep.”

“To be honest, I can’t go back home now because I’d feel guilty. My brain is all mushy,” you pointed to your head, “and I wouldn’t be able to study or relax. I would rather stay here, where my mind is focused on something else.”

“I know what you mean,” he leaned his body back, his eyes staring something beyond what you could see. “I support you distracting yourself, but this won’t go away just because you’re ignoring it, you know? Are you sure you’re ok?”

Being ok was a concept you weren’t sure about the past few days. You wanted to be ok, to look ok to everyone around you, but it was hard. You were just faking until you made it. The PhD program was starting to wear you off, and even though you loved it, the thoughts of giving up were taking every single inch of your notes and books.

But what would be your excuse to leave it unfinished when numbers, probabilities and hours of understanding the impossible things were half of your life at this point?

“Did I hit my head or something? Do you have a fever? Why are you being nice to me?” You swiftly tried to change subjects.

“We’re on a truce, remember?”

“Maybe we could be on good terms again,” you suggested. “I mean, if you ever eat my cupcakes again, Bobby will need to hire a new firefighter.”

“So we’re good?”

“We’re good.” Your screen lit up with a notification. “Eddie is gonna be stuck with an emergency, but Carla is on her way to the house. Should we just go?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll go get him and then we drop him off.”

“Great.”

Chris black out as soon as Buck started the drive back to the Diaz house. The radio volume was low, and the orange and pink tones of the sunset were being replaced by the dark blue of the night. You found it hard to keep your eyes open for too long, and only noticed you took a nap when Chris was calling for your name, wanting to say goodbye before going inside.

“Thank you for today, Brains!” He hugged you, and it made everything worth it. “Can we do this again soon?”

“We’re gonna chase all the dinosaurs in LA, I promise.” You gave him one last huge and walked back to the car, watching Carla and Buck talking by the front door.

And there you were, back in the car with Evan Buckley. If he wanted to make a comment about how he was right, he let it slide. You connected your phone and entered the address to your house on the GPS. He took your phone from your hands, declaring “Now that everyone in this car is over 18, we can play the good stuff.”

“Are you sure you are old enough? Give me that back, Evan!”

“Hey! I’m driving. And you challenged me. I’m gonna show you what I usually blast in my car.”

You expected anything from Evan Buckley, even the worst genre of music, but nothing prepared you for when you listened to the introduction of ‘You Give Love A Bad Name’ blasting through the speakers.

The playlist had completely changed and moved away from what you played when Chris was in the car. Bruce Springsteen, The Beatles, even a little of Led Zeppelin, just to enjoy some classics you never thought Buck appreciated. But he was more than just a firefighter with a sassy attitude, some wrongs and lots of muscle.

You look around, panicking a little when you notice you’re entering your building’s garage. You were definitely expecting to be dropped off at the front of the building. What the hell was going on?

“What… How did you get the access?”

“So, funny story. Maddie told you about the place, right?” He turned his head to check your reaction. “Well, I was the one that mentioned that a unit was available when I was complaining about my ex neighbor… So yeah, we are neighbors.”

“You’re annoying, you know that, right?”

“I thought Maddie told you.”

Well, she almost did, but she was interrupted by your neighbor himself that night. Shit.

“For how long did you know this?” You pointed to the garage and between you two.

“For a few weeks, when I saw your car after the cupcake incident.”

“I pledge the fifth.” You disconnected your phone from his car. Well, it would only get awkward if you walked to your apartment in complete silence, so you asked, “Wait, so you were texting and calling me from across the hall? You’re unbelievable.”

“What? If I knock on your door, you’ve got a restraining order against me.”

You left the car at the same time, and walked to the elevators.

“I bet I could convince Sergeant Grant to arrest you.”

“You’d make her dreams come true.”

Same elevator, same floor. You took opposite directions: his place was to the left, yours to the right, on the corners of the building, just one unit between you. You waved him goodbye and entered your home. To your right, your kitchen and dinner table. The glass doors to your balcony were opened — your mistake when you left in a hurry that morning — and it felt more like home than you expected.

Under the stairs, your notes and books were scattered. Sundays were for studying and writing the thesis. Your gray couch held the books you were searching the other day, too busy to put them back in the high and long bookshelves you had on the wall. Your television was the least used electronic in the place.

You walked upstairs and threw yourself in the bed. Maybe you should’ve picked up his calls before, but now it wasn’t a problem anymore.

author's note: are we watching the beginning of their friendship? I THINK SO! yes, i love a slow burn, but i swear it's gonna be worth it, ok? hope you're enjoying this series as much as i am. also: i published a blurb, so check the series masterlist bc i kinda loved it, not gonna lie. ALSO, my lovely friend, casey, made a playlist for the series. just check the masterlist! see yall next week!

[pomrania]

Continuation from my previous thread (because it got long), of stuff from @200-word-rpgs that I find interesting.

THE CURSE: A Rabbit and Steel Fangame by @ringedretrospective I'm not sure I've even HEARD of "Rabbit and Steel" before, let alone know what it's like. But having "apologize for what you did last night", as the single sentence for the "day" phase, amuses me greatly.

Make Brown by @thee-rat-king I like colour stuff; I also appreciate how "should or shouldn't end up brown" is a 50% thing determined at the start of the game. And that's just SUCH a cool concept, how one player gets their colour combined with that of the other.

Paleolithic Fantasy by @cavetalesz I agree with the writer (whose url is PERFECTLY fitted for this game), we need more stuff set in this… setting. And also more FANTASY stuff in that setting; heck, if we're going from the thing we commonly see in fantasy of "magic has been fading from the world", then the earlier back we go, the more room there is for magic (and also it's not like there's any written documentation to contradict it). As to the game itself, I appreciate how the "stuff you find" table includes entries with relevant stats, and then at the end there's just "the antlered man", no detail given.

Elegy For A Better Yesterday by @notsomeoneyouknow I don't have enough familiarity with John Woo movies to properly appreciate this. But from the design notes, it seems like a lot of thought went into mechanics that properly match the theme.

Mires by @i-exist-for-spleen and manguypersondude I appreciate something that, as they put it, turns "how partial a GM is inevitably going to be" into a feature and not a bug. Also, something that started with a design requirement ("no dice math") and then built from there. And yeah, when you just stumble upon a theme or concept that ties everything neatly together, that is SUCH a good feeling; the spark of inspiration that lights up the tinder you've prepared from your own efforts.

You Know How This Story Ends by @indraklyr I just think it's cool; everyone has things that will happen, then those things get placed in an order, then you play out how the things happen.

You Sunk My Battleship! by @ineffable-gallimaufry Gotta respect something that finds a way to turn BATTLESHIP, of all things, into an RPG.

[gay-mathematician-portmanteau]

single thread math episode 13: i read that, psychologically speaking, people are most capable of retaining information they learn when they are anxious or otherwise aroused. that’s why i’ll be taking my basement child on a glass-bottomed hot air balloon ride for our first lecture on indexing algebras.

[guardevoir]

Fiber Arts Update Time!

Oh boy, where did I leave off last time?

OH, RIGHT.

Fine Merino yarn has been plied

(I figured out how to cross-thread yarn while plying so I can use the hooks on both sides of the flyer; I can still only get maybe 40g of plied yarn onto this tiny bobbin, but that's still better than 30g, barely)

(I deliberately over-plied this quite a bit! I figured with how soft the singles were, I had some leeway until things got too ropey, and that worked out pretty well)

and wet-finished

(by fulling; five minutes of hot water, five minutes of cold water, aggressive thwacking. This yarn has to be sturdy when it's done!)

And the end result is amazing

Best yarn I've made so far, hands-down. Springy, squishy, incredibly soft, but substantial and sturdy. I'll have to make a batch for myself at some point, too.

Next step: the dye pot! Once I stop being a chicken about it, anyway.

Also, remember this stuff?

My amazing crocheting friend (for whom I'm also making the white merino yarn) has gotten around to turning that stuff into a shawl!

This isn't technically the first wearable made of handspun that I have - I also made one single fingerless glove months ago, as a test - but it's still beyond exciting to see such a big project fully finished.

Next project: more purple glitter merino, for a headband for my mom.

Also, found a prospective Tour de Fleece project: pride flag colored merino for a Pride Flag Virus Shawl. Crochet friend is on board, all that's missing is the fibers and some math.

[womendeservehumanity]

If this were your first day on earth and you were only able to scroll through these accounts, which exist in such plentiful amount. You’d really think “misandry” dominates online spaces and that it isn’t complete, inescapable misogyny. Accounts with hundreds of thousands and upwards to half a million followers dedicated to hating women such as women posting their ls, women being awful, women being honest, why women get ls, single moms posting their ls (all very real accounts on twitter). Subreddits with hundreds of thousands of members such as r/entitledbitch, r/whereareallthegoodmen, r/pussypassdenied, and the not that recently banned r/memegender. Tiktoks going viral everyday saying the most reprehensible things about women. You wouldn’t be able to keep track of them because that’s how pervasive they are. It’s such a common form of content for men. Same on Instagram. Or accounts on multiple platforms but mostly YouTube and TikTok it seems such as hoe math and Andrew Tate who teach men the true nature of women. That they’re evil disloyal whores and how you should act accordingly.

And I am not for one second believing that these people are somehow collectively unaware of that. They just know to perfectly frame every situation to where men are perpetual victims and women are evil feminiazis wanting to use their blood as sustenance. In a world where the average leftist woman has a kill all men mug and is going to feminist lectures that talks about how evil men are and not how actually feminism is for them too! In a world where misogyny is this complete non factor and is something men aren’t engaging with. And if they are it’s actually justifiable because it’s again due to these evil feminazis demonizing them. It’s not as though misogyny has existed since the beginning of time. As if men have hated women since the beginning of time. Nope. Even when men hate women. Even when they say the most reprehensible and dehumanizing things about them it’s still being explained through a lens where they’re the victims

Op in the first tweet subsequently went on to make a thread that was void of any actually meaning or conclusion because well these men really think they’re compelling when really it’s just poorly stringed along ideas and sentiments about how everything wrong in my life is not the fault of myself. Requiring no self responsibility or introspection. He then went on to parrot a very popular sentiment. That really, men are simple. And just want a woman’s touch and to be able to play their video games and watch their h3ntai. And that since the evil feminists and woke culture couldn’t let them have that they’ve devolved into reactionary woman hating fascists. Again, not at the fault of their own.

Because nothing is ever their fault. Or the result of their character, decisions, etc. This man literally said “all for reasons outside of our control” after talking about how males are complete and utter losers with no identity or future. How is it that women are the ones seen as the victimizing, self absorbed gender when this slop has almost 50k likes because it resonates with so many of them? Being vapid, inept, and resentful failures contributing nothing to society.

[youmayberightimaybecrazy]

Once upon a time I wanted to be a historical linguist. I used to say it was because the more abstract and useless something is the more I like it.

For me language is a unifying interest. I have never been able to ignore the words pushing softly against my ear drums. I didn't know it was possible to sit in a room where people were speaking and not absorb them, not have those gentle waves resonate through the electric pathways of your mind into the fibers of your muscles, humming your bones from head to toe.

When I fell in love with reading as a six year-old child, I didn't fall in love with stories. Perhaps because I don't visualize stories when I read. I only discovered other people do that last year. At the age of 54. When I read I visualize words and hear the sounds. And in turn, when I hear words, somewhere in the back of my brain there's a visual image attached to them, a dim contoured shape, a pattern of faded symbols, visible music. When I fell in love with reading as a six-year old child, I fell in love with the shape of words.

When I write words I bring out old friends and treasured companions, each with a personality, a quirk, a history, a network of memories, some we share and some that are only mine, memories of intimate, life-changing moments my friends and I spent together, alone.

But words could never be my only interest. The lack of novelty prohibits it. I suppose modern academia was never a place I could live.

The beauty of historical linguistics is that it is not just words, not just the family histories of my closest friends, not just my nation's history the history of my ancestors, the history of the world, but it is also math. Or more precisely, a logic puzzle. Which math is also.

You see, I love puzzles, and how things came to be how they are is the greatest of them all. It connects astrophysics to geology to biology to archaeology to history to genealogy. It is all one creation story in mystery form, one in which the subplot about language forms my favorite thread.

I am interested in many things, but sometimes I see that they are all really one thing, a single glorious feast, in which words and their stories are the final champagne.

[astronicht]

20 Questions for Fic Writers Tag Game

@birdylion tagged me, thanks!

1. how many works do you have on AO3?

48 apparently. I started moving stuff over from ff.net pretty late it looks like, 2014-ish.

2. what’s your total AO3 word count?

465,791

3. what fandoms do you write for?

Various! In my heart I sort of consider myself currently a mix of mdzs and F1 rpf main, hockey rpf almost main. None of these stances reflect reality <3 I most recently posted moto gp rpf, mdzs, and hockey rpf-- so hey wait maybe I'm not totally off-base.

The WIPs I'm most active in right now are, amusingly, Stranger Things and Stargate Atlantis, with mdzs making itself known on the back burner.

4. what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

WHO IS WINNING IN THE THUNDERDOME TODAY

the field meets the wood - mdzs, wangxian. The one where Lan Wangji is kidnapped by salt merchants, and Wei Wuxian unmakes them with historical math. I think this is the best prose writing I've ever done and I'm thrilled that it's currently outpacing the other usual suspects.

pro bono - mdzs, wangxian. The vampire AU I wrote as a joke based on a thread for a few friends. Due to a couple shipwrecks and banishments, WWX and LWJ get stranded in the Italian Renaissance; Lan Wangji is also a vampire; don't worry about it. If (1) is my best prose this is the overall storytelling I'm most satisfied with.

2:08 AM, softly - mdzs, wangxian modern AU. About coming home after a bad night out to find someone you most want to see. Prose is kinda weak, alas, but I get why it's up here.

swinger of birches - mdzs, wangxian Practical Magic AU. Coolest writing experience I will probably ever have. I wrote this live, via tweets, over the course of a month. I had a little staging document but i was only two or three tweets ahead at any given time. It felt like-- oral storytelling, or something.

somnophilia in the time of vampires - mdzs, wangxian, sequel to pro bono. Pretty much entirely pwp. I set it in the same inn that Anne Rice set a scene in Cry to Heaven, as a little joke for myself.

What's interesting is that every single one of these was written either directly for someone, or because someone wanted something. I love filling a need.

5. do you respond to comments?

Yeah, some, though it's totally random which ones I get to.

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

salt and vinegar, vinegar and salt (hockey rpf) is literally tagged "hopeful ending" so it's not too bad, but it's not meant to be perfectly happy.

scurvy (mdzs, wangxian) and the fic it follows (floodplain (silt)) I wrote very purposefully to not end with a sense of ease. I care about these characters I lot, and they tend to get softened down in fanon after a while. I love them in the parts of canon when they're miserable and cruel and unable to get better, too. And I needed to write that, I guess.

7. what’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

haha probably swinger of birches (see question 1). It's a romance movie fusion, which helps, but it also leans into the "second chances to have everything you thought you lost in the war" of the canon. Plus the "hey what if we DIDN'T pass on the generational trauma" that is the absolute heart of mdzs.

8. do you get hate on fics?

Once got a serial TERF commenter who was going around. Weakling.

9. do you write smut? If so, what kind?

That's my wheelhouse, baby, that's what I'm most comfortable writing and what I like. I've covered a lot, but idk what the themes are. Except maybe the intimacy of sex in the bathroom/in the shower. I write a passable amount of kink, I guess? I also write a passable amount of lesbian sex. this is because i'm gay.

10. do you write crossovers?

No. I do AUs a lot, including AUs set in another fictional universe, but I don't like crossovers. They make my teeth itch.

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

Hope not!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yeah! I have blanket permission for translations, so long as they link back to the original (and with a strong preference that they're on ao3). Someone did my wangxian lesbian scific AU in Spanish, which is cool as hell.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yeah! Well! Okay they're not POSTED but that's mostly my fault. I learned to co-write with @dulosis. phillyverse will take the world by storm! geoverse will be our white whale and THEN take the world by storm! we have a batshit number of words of chatfic from back when I was more active in mdzs. Frankly some of my favorite writing.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?

in the pines, the wangxian semi-pro-dom modern AU fic. I accidentally lived out the final scene in real life with a tinder hookup (NOT what you're thinking. I took her out to eat after one of the hookups, and I was not considering fic plots at the time), and it feels kinda bad now to try to write the wangxian version of something that actually meant a lot to me (because i am both a lesbian and NOT good at casual). I think she only reads Star Wars fic if anything, but what if she found it, you know?

Also this one hockey rpf fic that was like, very much about Leon renewing his passport and the deal with living on a continent you didn't grow up on, but also-- kind of did. That's only in the gdocs tho.

16. What are your writing strengths?

You'll know the atmospheric humidity in any given scene.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Goddamn dialogue.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

A few. I've seen a very small number of good fics where bilingual folks are doing neat cultural/diaspora stuff with it, especially in modao with chinese diaspora writers. That's cool as hell, but also not my lane. I've also seen people in hockey rpf do some neat stuff with this with, say, Leon Draisaitl, especially in the context of a non-German pov character learning some German. But in those cases, the best simulation of hearing a German sentence you don't understand is written with dialogue in English interspersed with blanks.

Instead of just writing out full sentences of dialogue in a different lang from the prose, I love being conscious of what language the characters are speaking in. I am much more interested in playing with that, and I can do that best in English. If my characters are switching between languages I switch up the English diction a bit; I remember how names will come up in sentences differently, I think about how something would sound to whisper. For untranslatable things, or stuff that sounds weird in English, I just use the word in the language, in the English sentence, and that's that. I love having to abide by the limitations and abilities of Chinese or Italian or whatever; I love knowing how dialect will affect communication.

The only time a full line of dialogue in a foreign language makes sense is if the pov character doesn't understand it. But it's very unlikely that the pov character will BOTH a) not speak a language at all, necessitating that it shows up in another language from the prose, and b) the pov character can actually ID every single word clearly enough that it makes sense to write it out. So largely I'm personally uninterested in it, because outside of some narrow applications (most of which aren't my purview) it doesn't do much.

That said, Mr Fruits Baske Sohma Shigure speaking random french is perfect. What a terrible man. Love him.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Probably Fullmetal Alchemist, but I'm not sure.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

harsh! harsh! overall, maybe pro bono (wangxian vampire AU). today. tomorrow it will change.

I'm tagging anyone who wants to play!

[donnerpartyofone]

I signed up for this online class co-taught by a woman I find maddeningly brilliant, where she lectures on her experience working with and studying people who are on the cutting edge of whatever their professional field is. She discovered this common thread where many of them claim that they don't come up with their innovations on their own--supposedly, ideas just enter their minds spontaneously, or even in a dream, and they follow these disciplined lifestyles (versions of monastic practices, generally) that they believe make them more receptive to those kinds of messages. A good clarifying example is that of a mathematician (Pattie Maes I think? I forgot to write it down) who claimed that as a young student, she would just-know the solutions to math problems without being able to explain the reasoning, so she was always in trouble with her teachers; eventually she got into analytical philosophy, which helped her reverse-engineer and understand the answers she mysteriously received. So anyway the class I'm taking allows you to offer up your own projects for feedback and advice about how you can invite a breakthrough to happen. There are some extremely interesting people in the group, including a couple of guys who are doing futuristic-sounding sustainable farming projects, someone who studies black holes, and just all stripes of scientists and artists. I'm hearing some pretty interesting things, but...

The class is co-taught by this woman who is also obviously brilliant, she has these insane credentials I barely understand involving venture capital and AI, she works with and for extremely high level companies and luminaries and her self-selected title is something like "singularity expert". And like, all of that is inherently interesting whether or not it sounds somewhat sinister to your ears, but I quickly realized that she's one of these people who is just fundamentally excited by the basic concept of Success, and she automatically thinks that any measure of fame and fortune, no matter what it's in aid of or where it came from, is evidence of genius. Which to me is like this incredibly dangerous trap, for what I think are really obvious reasons.

So one of us students brought up a manuscript she's been working on for decades that isn't going anywhere, and the singularity expert told her to just throw it out and do something else, basically. And in her justification for this, she started saying "I know a lot of you probably don't like Elon Musk, BUT" in this really bitter, cold tone of voice that let you know immediately that she's a huge fan and she thinks the resistance to him is just a bunch of ignorant liberal bullshit. And her example of his genius, which we should all imitate, is that when he wanted to make a big update to Tesla/Twitter/(some other shit he acquired from actual innovators), he found that the update was incompatible with all of foundational code, so he just threw out millions and millions of dollars' worth of code to force his new thing into place. And I mean, on one level I heard something useful and true: Don't sacrifice your future for the comforting stability of the past, beware of the sunk cost fallacy, etc. But the fact that Elon Musk did something that *appears* to represent that, depending on how you spin it, does not mean that he is a genius you should seek to imitate. First of all, I didn't leave knowing exactly what the consequences of his actions were, and second of all...millions of dollars doesn't mean anything to that guy. He's impossibly rich and he basically started out that way, and he's never going to wind up homeless or whatever even if he drives every single company he bought into the ground. He's just not a good example of someone with a high risk, high reward mindset that we should all emulate because he could lose hundreds of millions of dollars almost without noticing. The fact that he did this thing that in isolation looks heroic, that's only a tiny part of the picture with him.

(And that's without even getting into the impact that it has on the rest of the world, that he has so much power; like personally I think he's such a negative presence in the world that it's beyond just material effects, actually he's so corrosive that even talking about him is bad. Just contemplating the idea of him brings out the absolute worst in people, it's bad for people's moral fiber to even argue about him, but ANYWAY)

Unfortunately I find that a lot of people who have some kind of overlap with the self-help field will eventually come around to admitting that they're so blinded by the glamor of public, lucrative success that they don't really care where it comes from or who gets it or what people do with it. Damien Echols is someone I really enjoy, I just think it's undeniably interesting to hear from someone who spent almost 20 years on death row studying spirituality (to be glib about it) and pursuing all kinds of monastic disciplines; I mean that guy has things to say that you don't get from circulating in normal society. He practices something that has roots as far back as ancient Sumeria, he's not rich and he's not trying to get rich, but he often reminds people that poverty doesn't have an inherent moral quality and it's not inherently evil to pursue financial success. He'll say that if you have a phobic attitude toward money, if the very idea of it is tainted by guilt and fear in your mind, then it becomes a destructive force in your life--but if you think about money as energy, a resource you can channel into doing what's important to you, then it becomes something positive and supportive. And I can totally understand that. But then Echols will extrapolate that to the point that he's praising megachurch guys who are absolute crooks and scam artists and who definitely rob people through a form of psychological blackmail that tells them they're going to hell if they don't help buy Jim Bakker or whoever a private jet. And I'm like, man...ok so it's worth while to say that having a positive mindset about money can change your life for the better. But that doesn't mean that we have to then lionize every single person who ever got rich no matter how they got there and no matter what they did with their power, that's just fucking insane, right?

I could go on and on actually, about various people I've heard speak about how to break through your subconscious limitations and take a more authorial role in your own life, and how often even the most apparently well-meaning one of these speakers will come around to praising like the Monopoly guy, or some tepid pop star with an incredible marketing machine behind them, as ground-breaking geniuses who we all need to emulate. I mean a lot of people who are visibly successful get there by accident, or nepotism, or coattail riding, or plain ruthlessness. Many people in the big-success category turn out to be inarguably, unfathomably stupid (ironically I spotted the Elon Musk Pop Tart story the morning before I took this class), and some of them are only geniuses insofar as they have an abnormally well-developed predatory instinct that makes them able to think thoughts and perform actions that you really can't conceive of if you aren't, you know, a psychopath. Someone recently posted a bunch of advice on teaching from John Cale, and one of the things he said was "Suspect charisma", and I think THAT is a much more important piece of advice than like, "find someone who is rich and famous and do whatever that person appears to be doing without asking yourself how they got where they are, or just what is the real reason that you personally are so compelled by them." It seems like a lot of people respond to the aura of "success" so intensely that they just don't want to have to question it, and they'll bend over backwards crafting these speculative backstories and dialectic arguments to make their animal reaction to the spectacle of power sound like something intellectually sound. It smacks of stockholm syndrome, of people who fall in love with their own bullies. There's complicated reasons for that, some of which are what got Trump elected I think, but I don't wanna talk about that. I have to go to the doctor's now anyway, and stop thinking about this.

[steakout-05]

something that had always been really frustrating for me when i was still in math classes in school was trying to watch the teacher actually work the problem out on the board and still not understanding wtf was happening. for some context, i heavily suspect that i have some form of dyscalculia because math and numbers literally do not compute properly in my brain. it'd be too long to explain the full extent of my possible dyscalculia here but math literally does the mental equivalent of maxing out the CPU power and memory of a computer to the point where it freezes and lags to my brain.

math class was always stressful for me because no matter what i did and how much progress i made, there was always a lack of understanding i had when it came to trying to work any math problem out long term and remembering anything. it felt like there was always something i was missing, so when the time came for the teacher to explain and go through a math problem step-by-step on the whiteboard, i made sure i paid as much attention to it as humanly possible as child-to-teenager me could muster and even then i still did not understand how the fuck they solved it, all because of one thing: the teacher pulling a random number completely out of their ass that happened to be the key to solving the problem.

like. i don't think i can illustrate how frustrating and isolating this was to experience with words alone. here i was, paying as much attention as i physically could, trying my damned hardest to memorise each individual step and calculation in order to understand how to get from point A to point B. everything made perfect sense up until the teacher suddenly stops for a second and writes a seemingly completely unrelated number there with no context as to why it's there in the first place, and then, in that singular moment, everything immediately comes crumbling down and i'm left completely confused. and somehow, everyone else around me perfectly understands it except me. like. imagine sitting there, giving the teacher all the attention you possibly could, literally watching and studying their hand movements just to understand every single step, only to be even more confused than your classmates, who you're pretty sure were half-asleep during the explanation, who also say they understand how the teacher came to that conclusion. what. the actual fuck.

when i try to explain how infinitely confusing and irritating this was for me, i'm reminded of a quote from that video Patricia Taxxon made about DHMIS: "The rug is pulled again ... There was never any hope of following the thread, understanding is impossible.". even when i was literally trying my best to possibly follow anything that was happening, the rug still gets pulled out from under my feet and i'm sent all the way back to square one of not understanding a single thing and being confused again. all because the teacher didn't explicitly explain how they got that random number that was apparently singlehandedly necessary for solving the equation and where they got it from, apart from that place being from literally fucking nowhere.

it's really no wonder that i eventually stopped giving a shit about paying attention in math class, because even when i was, it was still daunting and incomprehensible as always. why bother trying anymore when trying still gets you nowhere? trying to ask the teacher where they got that number from was an impossible to understand task as well, as their either snapped back with a "well you should have been paying attention" (even though i WAS but whatever) or they do explain that they added the first two numbers from the equation together or something, but now i'm wondering why they didn't just explain that in the first place like they did with everything else instead of seemingly just assuming everyone would know to do that.

by the way, if i had to give an estimate, my math ability is probably still at like. a 5th grader's level at best. so uh. yeah it's not good. still, it is kinda funny to me though, not only because i do find a bit of humour in the situation, but also because some people are often so quick to judge someone's intelligence purely based on their mathematical abilities alone. like. the idea of someone calling me dumb for still needing to do addition with my fingers despite the fact that my reading and language levels are considered above average is really funny to me lmaooo