#[ it has been a hot minute but I'm BACK AT IT ]

[herrscherofmagic]

I'd like to add to this, though it's a bit tangential — there's also some pretty fundamental skills that exist in both STEM and humanities, and being able to make the connections between how they exist in these separate fields can really help your comprehension in either or both categories.

I'll have to apologize in advance because this post got way, way longer than I intended, and it's a fair bit messy and all over the place. But I do try and tie it back in to this original post, even if it takes a hot minute to get there >.>

.

I'm no longer in STEM at the moment but I did take a handy amount of both STEM and humanities courses, and ultimately chose the humanities route. Despite focusing on the humanities, there's definitely some STEM ideas that I found really useful in life, and by far the #1 has probably been the idea of abstraction.

For instance, when you say "abstract" there's a lot of things that can come to mind, with a common example being abstract art, right? Everyone knows the "crappy modern art" that's "overvalued" and "nonsensical" and whatnot. The funny-lookin' paint splatters on a canvas, or the giant blocks of solid color. That sort of thing.

Well, the word "abstract" is meant to represent the idea of something which exists separately from the real world. In contrast, the real stuff is described as being "concrete". The thing is that there's a spectrum of this stuff, with some things being more concrete but still a little abstract, and vice-versa.

Turns out that this is a REALLY important idea in computer science. Because computer chips work with 1s and 0s, and our silly primate brains ain't optimized to add a bajillion 1s and 0s. So instead, we use abstraction to describe collections of operations with these 1s and 0s: from the fundamental machine code that's binary operations only, to the "assembly language" that bridges the gap between binary numbers and human-readable characters, then to the higher-level programming languages.

We use highly-abstracted programming languages and write code like "a + b = c" but that has to be translated down into a more concrete code, the assembly language, and then that gets translated even further into the actual *real* operations happening on the transistors, the 1s and 0s.

And within a programming language we also use abstraction, such as in Java, an object-oriented programming language. You might take a block of code that has many different uses and describe it in a simple form as a class, then extend subclasses and give more concrete and specific definitions to that superclass.

A common and easy-to-understand example of this is Minecraft, with it's mobs, programmed in Java. There's a lot of things called "mobs", which are mobile entities that move themselves around and can interact with the player (and which the player can interact with). But some are aggressive, some are netural, some are passive— so how do you code all these different types of mobs?

What you can do is create an "abstract" class (not necessarily a literal "abstract class") for "mobs" in general, defining the most fundamental and simple traits (health bars, movement, dimensions, etc.) and then extend that class into specific examples. You might create a subclass for the "Passive mobs" that defines how they react to being hit by a player, with their frantic running around.

But then the "Hostile mobs" subclass has a separate and unique bit of code to describe how these mobs deal more damage. And then you can extend the "Hostile mobs" subclass into a "Skeleton" subclass to define ranged attacks that other mobs don't have, and so on.

You can work with varying levels of abstraction in your code, in order to meet different needs. By working at high levels of abstract you define wide and simple principles readily understood with less effort, and which can be more widely applied, and then begin to narrow down the code into more detailed sections for specific circumstances.

It turns out... that's EXACTLY how abstraction works in art. All the stuff you see in art exists on a spectrum from "abstract" to "concrete" and artworks are often made at some point on that spectrum to serve a specific purpose.

For example, you might want to visually depict a bird. On the most concrete level you have the human eye's vision of a bird, though even that is subjective: it's based on the physical health of one's eyesight, and the cultural expectations of what a "bird" is.

Then you have the photograph, which is still nearly exact concrete (hence "photorealistic") but still not 100% there. Then you have photorealistic art, and realistic, and then you go more and more abstract. You might move towards impressionistic art and pointillism, and then surreal art, and eventually you might arrive near total abstraction.

For instance, take this lovely photo of a Florida Scrub Jay (a very, very specific type of bird). This would be a rather concrete representation of a bird, and not just any bird but a particular species. Not a robin or raven or raptor, but a Florida Scrub Jay and nothing else!

(Photo from Wikimedia Commons)

Since that is a photo, it's pretty concrete to begin with. So to make it more abstract... I'll draw a quick study of it!

It's dirty and messy but gets the job done, I'm not making a 3-hour painted study for a tumblr post about STEM and humanities (and apparently birds, now). This took like... idk half an hour, 45 minutes? 15 minutes? I forgot to keep count and i've already put in like one and a half hours towards making this post by this point...

The drawing is still quite recognizable as being a Florida Scurb Jay, despite how messy it is, and you can also see the resemblance with the reference photo. It's farm from photorealistic, but it still has a strong level of concrete representation to it. It's far from true abstract art.

We can simplify things further, though, still staying representational but inching just a weeeee bit closer to the abstract:

First we do away with the background, stick with some simply bold lines, and use big broad shapes with solid color. Then we simplify it even more, using only a few lines to indicate major forms, and using just four colors. No tree branch either. You can still recognize it as a Florida Scrub Jay though... right?

BUT WAIT! Another competitor has entered the ring! in the corner with the steel chair, it's...

the Blue Jay?!

(Once more, photo from Wikimedia Commons)

Turns out, we've abstracted far enough away from the original photo reference, that now our bird doodle seems to resemble BOTH the Florida Scrub Jay (Aphelocoma coerulescens) and this lovely Blue Jay (Cyanocitta cristata).

After all, both are birds which are white and blue, and have a roughly similar body proportion. The tails and wing feathers are both blue, and the heads both have blue. Most of the differentiation comes from details, like the rings of black on the Blue Jay's tail, or the white tuft of feathers atop the Florida Scrub Jay's head.

Well, guess what, folks? We can abstract even further!

First, let's do away with all those pesky colors. We only need the one blue, right? After all, both the Florida Scrub Jay and the Blue Jay can be called "blue birds" so why do we need white or gray?

But that's not a very attractive blue, is it? So... maybe we brighten it up a bit?

Aha! Now we're talking. But this pose is a bit... meh. Now that we've abstracted away so much detail, you can hardly tell it's a bird! especially with the wing tucked in and the tail overlapped with the leg.

Maybe we can just flip up the wing and tail? And let's open the beak for good measure, too, just to emphasize that it's a beak and not a sideways ice cream cone!

Hmmm... That's looking better. Say, our original photo was of a bird standing on a branch, but we don't have the branch anymore, and birds fly right? So why not just get rid of the legs entirely?

And for some reason I feel like this would look really, really nice if we flipped it horizontally. Maybe clean up some of the shapes too?

Wait a damn minute...

Fuck, it's Twitter!

Achievement Get: Reinvent Graphic Design

Of course... there's still one last step of abstraction to take.

"Behold, a bird!-" Diogenes, probably

To make this a bit easier to understand, I've compiled it all into a handy-dandy chart (which I made before the aforementioned Minecraft chart, just fyi):

Representation isn't a singular possibility. That is to say that there's no one "true way" to represent a given bird, or in this case the Florida Scrub Jay. There are varying levels of concrete and abstract representation, and these serve different purposes.

Heck, even once we get to the level of abstract, there's different ways to abstract.

For instance, by abstracting to color, we get just a single shade of blue, not a random shade of blue but rather a specific shade that's derived from more concrete representations of blue birds.

But instead of abstracting to color, we can abstract to lines instead, and get a few vague lines that hint at the form of a bird flapping it's wings.

It's that sort of abstraction-to-lines that's useful in things like animation, where using simple linework to emphasize seemingly abstract concepts like "rhythm" and "movement" in a more tangible way can help make the figures feel more alive:

(Image taken from the Barnes & Noble listing of the book Gesture Drawing: Dynamic Movement and Form, by Michael Hampton.)

This is why I've grown to appreciate abstract art, even if it's not the primary thing I draw or my #1 form of consumed art. Because ultimately, abstract art can (though doesn't necessarily have to) serve a purpose: to explore the underlying visual themes throughout countless forms of art.

Explorations of line, color, value, shape, form, etc. have their merit in allowing us to contemplate these ideas in simple abstracted ways that do away with the messy distracting details. And once you get a better understanding of these fundamental art concepts in a more abstract sense, you can use that abstract understanding to reinforce your more concrete representational works. Shapes in underlying compositions, gesture lines in figure drawing, and so on.

Going back to the concrete-abstraction bird chart, you'll notice a little detour on the right-hand side of that chart. That's because I didn't draw my study directly from the photo; instead, I took multiple steps to get there:

A quickly and roughly-traced line sketch, then a value sketch (setting aside the photo instead of drawing over it at this point), and then adding the colors by eye, along with a few crisp lines to help indicate important edges.

THIS is the whole point of this rambling essay.

This is the crux of the matter.

This notion of concrete vs. abstract is one of the most important tools I have as an artist, because it allows me to divide the process of creating art into various stages with different intentions and different tools.

Instead of one continuous process from start to finish, from beginning to end, from concept to realized image... it's a messy back-and-forth between different processes that jump between simplification and complexity, from abstract to concrete.

It's that back-and-forth and decision-making which makes each and every artwork unique, and which helps add a tremendous amount of meaning.

And naturally, this applies to writing as well.

I don't want to drag this on any longer than it already has, so I'll wrap things up by going back to the very original post. To quote:

"I can instantly tell when someone in one of my STEM classes didn’t pay attention in English class in high school because they can’t read scientific articles without feeding them through ChatGPT."

Yeah. This is EXACTLY why I despise ChatGPT and almost every other form of "generative AI".

Even setting aside the environmental aspects,

Even setting aside the blatant stock manipulation and technocratic bullshit,

Even setting aside the plagiarism...

...ultimately, these statistical models cannot truly replicate the human process of creation.

They simply aggregate values associated with keywords, associations which are algorithmically trained via a dataset, and then spit out some randomized combination of these values. Regardless of whether these values are words or pixels or sound waves.

Letting these generative models do your "thinking" for you?? that can only be utterly devastating to one's own critical thinking skills. I'm quite frankly terrified by how desperately these companies push these "tools" because literally nobody on this godforsaken planet truly benefits from these things excepts shareholders.

Note, this isn't a dig at all forms of machine learning; there's an AMAZING wealth of possibility from machine learning as a whole.

This "AI" stuff just ain't it.

And this is why, ultimately, it's so important to study both humanities and STEM to some degree. These are different fields of knowledge that often have similar underlying skills involved, and learning about these different fields and identiying these common skills will strengthen your ability to use these skills in all sorts of scenarios.

To use an analogy with exercise, swimming and running are two very different forms of exercise. Just because a person is good at athletic running doesn't mean they're good at athletic swimming, and vice-versa.

However, both running and swimming require muscle movements, and the action of muscles requires energy. These muscles consume energy we get from nutrients, but importantly, they need *oxygen* to facilitate this process. And we get oxygen by breathing, right?

So folks learning to do exercise often need to learn to breathe well, too. We breathe almost effortlessly in daily life, but breathing purposefully helps you maximize your oxygen intake and CO2 outtake, making sure your body has enough oxygen to keep its muscles running optimally and for longer. Taking deeper and longer breaths while swimming, for example, can help you dive deeper for longer.

But guess what? Exercise ain't the only thing that needs good breathing. It turns out, when playing woodwind instruments like flutes, where you blow air out into or past the instrument to make sound... breathing is a handy thing as well.

So, all else being equal, a good swimmer will probably be better at breathing when they start athletic running than someone else who is also just starting to practice athletic running.

And, all else being equal, a good swimmer will probably have a better lung capacity and thus be better-equipped to play long passages when they begin learning to play the flute, compared to a different novice flautist who hasn't done any sort of exercises to practice their breathing technique.

Ultimately, there are still differences between breathing for swimming, and breathing for running, and breathing for playing music. But they're ALL still forms of breathing.

Likewise, the various critical thinking skills you learn in various STEM and humanities fields are all different and unique in their applications, but still have fundamental similarities.

Nobody needs to master everything, but to overly neglect STEM or humanities in favor of the other? That's going to hold you back, and make you vulnerable to being unable to handle various types of problems in life.

A lack of science knowledge might make you susceptible to misinformation about science, a lack of historical knowledge makes you susceptible to misinformation about history.

A lack of basic math skill makes it more difficult for you to handle logic problems in real life, and a lack of basic artistic ideas makes it more difficult to derive greater meaning and enjoyment from the plethora of arts in our daily lives; and so on and so forth.

The thing is that I think many people already have a greater deal of "basic knowledge" in various fields than they give themselves credit for. Even —or perhaps especially— when they're young!

Unfortunately, however, education systems (at least where I live, in the good 'ole US of A (derogatory) ) often separate these fields, and struggle to put them in the context of each other. To make it worse, once they're separated they're often further diluted to the point of near uselessness. History becomes rote memorization, art becomes algorithmic, math becomes overly formulaic, and so on.

If they can't be engaged with the educational material, they'll try and disengage. Especially if there are external circumstances such as bullying, chaotic or harmful domestic environments, malnutrition, etc.

And when time limits and testing standards are enforced atop all of this, naturally people turn to whatever "tools" they can to try and take back some of their time for their own interests.

Once upon a time these students would do things like write down the formulas for a test on the inside of their socks, or something. Now, of course... we've got ChatGPT.

There's so, so much to be said on the woes of education, but long story short, we're reaping the unfortunate harvest of decades of neglected education systems.

It's a damn shame, ain't it?

I cannot stress the importance of paying attention in language classes in high school. Maybe the reason why your English teacher taught you about unreliable narrators is because a lot of the media around you is written by unreliable narrators posing as reliable. Maybe they gave you assignments on interpreting texts so you could draw your own conclusions about news articles. Some of you clearly thought English classes were useless in high school and now are unable to engage critically with media.

[fkinkindagauche]

Somebody Has to Arrange the Matches

This is a prompt fill for @steddiebingo Round One, prompt "Dustin Henderson". Full fic on AO3.

Rating: Explicit | WC: 5,398 | CW: None | Tags: Dustin Henderson parent trap, gay Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington speed runs his sexuality crisis, first kiss, mutual pining, friends to lovers, frottage

Summary: Dustin is adamant that Eddie Munson deserves to find love, after all he's been through. Once Dustin figures out some things about Eddie, he gets to work making it happen.

divider by @steddiecameraroll-graphics

Eddie was being cagey again.

It had become Dustin's personal mission now that Eddie was out of the hospital to get the man a girlfriend. As far as Dustin could tell from his probing questions to the Corroded Coffin guys, Eddie had never had a girlfriend, which was honestly shocking to Dustin. Sure, Eddie could be pretty over the top, but everyone liked him. And it wasn't like he was ugly. So he must just be too shy or something. Dustin wanted to help.

Dustin currently had him cornered in Gareth's garage, away from the rest of the group. They'd just finished a D&D session at Gareth's house, with a Corroded Coffin practice scheduled after. Dustin, Lucas, Mike, and Will were waiting for Steve to pick them up before the practice started. Dustin was doing his utmost to get Eddie to go out with one of Robin's band geek friends, but Eddie was resisting all of his attempts.

"Henderson, no." Eddie sounded exactly like Steve did after Dustin had asked for a ride about ten times, trying to get a no to magically change to a yes. "I'm not going to ask Veronica out."

"Why not?" Dustin asked, voice raised. "She's a huge nerd, she flirts with you, like, non-stop, and she's hot."

Eddie sighed. "I'm just not into her."

Dustin groaned, tugging his hands through his hair in frustration. "Are you into anyone? Every time I bring someone up, you shoot the option down."

"Well, I don't like your options, bud. They're not good options."

"That's objectively false!" Dustin yelled. "Most guys would kill for some of the options I've presented!" Why did Eddie have to be like this?

"How can it be objectively false?" Eddie shot back. "It's literally my opinion. The definition of subjective."

Dustin glared at him. He hated when Eddie tried to outsmart him. He hated how often it worked. Steve drove up just as Dustin was opening his mouth for a rebuttal.

"Thank the fucking Lord," Eddie muttered. "Please take this young whippersnapper off of my hands before I kill him," Eddie yelled to Steve when he got out of his car.

"Oh, great," Steve said. "Can't wait to spend the next 15 minutes with a feisty Henderson in my car."

God, they were both such turds sometimes. Dustin sighed loudly and stomped over to Steve's car. "This isn't over, Munson!" he called over his shoulder. Eddie flipped him off in response.

He grabbed the passenger seat before Mike, Lucas, or Will even made it to the car, much to their chagrin. Steve chatted with Eddie for a few moments, Eddie leaning into his space as per usual, slinging an arm over Steve's shoulder.

Dustin leaned over and honked the horn.

"Really, Dustin?" Steve yelled, hands on his hips.

"Some of us have places to be!" Dustin yelled back.

"Where do you have to be?" Lucas asked from the backseat.

Dustin shrugged. "It's the principle of the thing."

Steve spent a few more moments talking to Eddie, probably just to piss Dustin off, then came back to the car.

Dustin gave Steve 30 seconds to adjust, watching the time tick by on his watch. He'd been told off one too many times for immediately starting an interrogation, so this was his compromise with the world. As soon as his watch hit the 30 second mark, he started in.

"So why doesn't Eddie ever date anyone?" Dustin asked, talking over whatever conversation Mike and Will had been having in the back.

Steve glanced at Dustin with a confused expression on his face. "What?"

"From the intel I've gathered, Eddie's never had a girlfriend," Dustin said. "He turns down all of my suggestions for potential dates. But if anyone deserves a girlfriend, it's him. He's, like, a hero. I want to help him find his Suzie."

"Excuse me, what am I? Chopped liver?" Steve interjected. "Why aren't you trying to find me a girlfriend?"

Dustin rolled his eyes. "You've had a million girlfriends, Steve. Give some of the other poor dudes a chance."

"Yeah, Steve. You're kind of hogging the eligible young women of Hawkins," Mike piped up from the back seat.

"I haven't had a girlfriend since Nancy," Steve protested.

"But you do still get around," Dustin insisted.

"Whatever, man." Steve shook his head. "Why don't you let Eddie do his own thing? Maybe he's just picky."

Dustin crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back, not responding. Steve was wrong. Eddie deserved his own Suzie. And Dustin wasn't going to give up on helping him find her.

"So I saw this girl the other day at the arcade," Dustin started. He and Eddie were at the trailer, painting some miniatures. It was his mom's night working late, and Dustin had started spending it with either Eddie or Steve on alternating weeks.

Eddie groaned. "Not again, Henderson. Can't we go, like, one day without this shit?"

"But Eddie! I think you'd really like her. She had a mohawk. Dyed pink. And her nose was pierced."

Eddie dropped his head into his hands, smearing some red paint on his cheek. He stayed that way for a few moments, quieter for much longer than usual. Dustin worried for a moment that he might have broken him. When Eddie finally looked up, his face was serious in a way it almost never was. He reached out for Dustin's hand.

"Dustin. I'm about to tell you something, and you cannot freak out about it. And you can't tell anyone else about it, either. Am I clear?" Usually, Dustin would have thought a joke was coming after an intro like that from Eddie. But he seemed completely earnest this time, so Dustin actually considered what he'd asked.

"What about Suzie?" Dustin asked. "Can I tell Suzie?"

Eddie sighed. "Yeah, you can tell Suzie."

"Alright," Dustin said. "I agree to your terms. No freak out, no telling anyone other than Suzie."

Eddie nodded. "Okay." He took a deep breath and looked away. "I'm gay, Dustin."

It took Dustin a second for his brain to parse what he'd just heard. Eddie. Heavy metal band member, dungeon master Eddie.

"I'm sorry, you're what?" Dustin squeaked. He must have misheard.

"I'm gay," Eddie repeated. "Queer, fruity, a homo, a friend of Dorothy, a fairy. I like men. That's why none of your options have sounded remotely appealing to me. That's why I've never had a girlfriend."

Dustin sat back in his chair, stunned. A lot of things were making sense now.

"Oooookay," Dustin said, nodding. So now he had to find Eddie a boyfriend. More difficult, but he liked a challenge. "So what's your type? We can find you a boyfriend."

Eddie barked out a laugh, throwing his head back. He looked relieved. "Are you serious? That's your only question, what's my type?"

"Of course that's not my only question, who do you think I am?" Dustin was a little offended. "That's just my most pressing question."

"I think this is the best response I've gotten so far to coming out," Eddie said, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair.

Dustin felt pretty good about that. "Well? Are you gonna answer?"

Eddie chuckled. "I should've known this wouldn't make you give up your weird crusade." He pulled a few strands of hair in front of his mouth, chewing on the ends while he thought. "My type? I'm not totally sure, honestly, haven't had much of a chance to find out, living in Hawkins. I guess probably my height or maybe shorter, but not much taller. On the masculine side of things, almost the jock physique. Hairy. Brunette."

Dustin nodded after each characteristic, mentally taking note. "Those are all physical things. What about personality?"

Eddie had to think a little harder about that one, looking into the distance. "Um. Kinda goofy, I guess? Not too macho. Sense of humor." Eddie trailed off and looked at Dustin sharply. "Henderson, if you go around asking the men of Hawkins if they're queer so you can try to find a date for me, you're gonna get beat to shit."

Dustin held up his hands. "You really think I'm that stupid? Give me some credit here, Eddie."

"You have a track record of failing to read the room, man," Eddie pointed out.

That absolutely wasn't true. Dustin was very tactful. He could be quite subtle when he wanted to be. Eddie just never got to see that side of him.

"I'll be careful," Dustin insisted. "I'm not gonna ask anyone if they're gay."

"Alright," Eddie said, but he didn't look convinced. Dustin would show him.

The idea hit Dustin the next week, when he was spending his mom's late work night with Steve. They were out by the pool, and Steve's hairy chest was on full display, with all of its muscles. Dustin had Suzie, and she didn't want him to be muscular, but sometimes when he saw Steve's chest he couldn't deny the twinge of jealously.

Hairy. Muscular jock physique. Something was tickling at the back of Dustin's mind. Brunette. What was that? About as tall as Eddie.

Oh shit. Dustin dropped his Dr. Pepper as Steve yelled "COWABUNGA" and did a cannonball into the water. Kinda goofy.

It was Steve. Eddie had basically been describing Steve. Did Eddie even know? Had he been secretly pining after Steve this whole time? Or was it still subconscious?

Holy shit. But Steve liked girls. How was Dustin gonna make this work? Did he need to find a Steve doppelganger somewhere who was gay?

Steve popped out of the water, shaking his hair. He looked up at Dustin and the Dr. Pepper spilled all over the patio. "Everything alright there?" Steve asked. "You look like you saw a ghost."

Dustin nodded. "I- I'm good. Everything's fine!"

Steve shrugged and dove back under the water.

Dustin did some research over the next few days. If he was going to find a gay Steve doppelganger for Eddie, he needed to understand the culture - where he could find other queer people, the types of phrases they used to identify each other without being too blatant, that kind of stuff.

He tried finding books at the library, but came up empty-handed and probably on some sort of list the librarian kept of degenerates. So he had to resort to asking Eddie where he got all his information.

"Why do you wanna know?" Eddie asked with a suspicious glare.

"I just wanna understand you, man!" Dustin insisted, putting on his most innocent expression. "You're my friend, I wanna know what's going on with you."

Eddie reluctantly handed Dustin some zines he'd picked up in Indianapolis. "None of the raunchy stuff," Eddie said. "I'm not getting arrested for dealing gay pornography to minors."

Dustin made a disgusted face. "You could have just… not told me you even had raunchy stuff."

Eddie shrugged. "Where's the fun in that?"

Dustin spent hours that night poring over the zines, learning the lingo. He discovered an incredibly interesting fact in one of the zines - the existence of bisexuality. You could like both men and women. You didn't have to be either gay or straight.

This fact blew Dustin's mind, and the seeds of a different plan took root. What if Steve was bisexual, and he didn't even know it? That would be the easiest, most logical solution to the Eddie problem. Steve was Eddie's type; so what if Eddie was also Steve's type?

He talked about it with Suzie the following evening. She'd been shocked to learn that Eddie was gay. Mormons weren't exactly accepting of homosexuality. But she'd always played a little fast and loose with certain aspects of Mormonism, so Dustin was able to bring her around to the idea eventually.

"I don't know, Dusty Buns," she said as they were discussing his idea about Steve. "I don't think you can just make someone be bisexual."

"I'm not gonna make him be bisexual," Dustin insisted. "I'm just gonna try to show him that he already is."

"But what if he isn't?" she shot back.

"Then I'll go back to the doppelganger plan," he said with a sigh. "But I have to try. This is the simplest solution. Occam's razor."

"Dusty Buns, you know you're not using that correctly right now," Suzie scolded.

Dustin sighed. She never let him get away with anything.

Dustin paid a lot more attention to Steve and Eddie's interactions over the next few weeks. Now that he knew Eddie was gay, he couldn't believe he'd missed the signs pointing to his crush on Steve.

Eddie gravitated to Steve like a moth to a flame. It was like he had some sort of Steve-related sixth sense, his head immediately turning toward Steve whenever the man walked into a room.

He was a tactile guy with everyone, but whenever Steve was around, it was always Steve that Eddie was touching. Every time Dustin looked at the two of them, Eddie had a hand somewhere on Steve - slung around his shoulders, resting on one of his arms, brushing against one of his legs to get his attention.

Steve didn't seem to mind at all. He leaned into the physical contact, touching Eddie back almost as often as he was touched. They smiled at each other all the time. They got each other drinks and snacks and just in general acted like a goddamn couple. How had Dustin missed this?

He was gonna need to accelerate his timeline. These idiots needed to get together ASAP.

Read the rest of the fic on AO3.

[nakylvr]

omg dealer!dani angst where a deal goes wrong and she either goes to jail or to the hospital and reader finds out through the news after not hearing from dani for a few days thinking she ghosted her!!! if she goes to jail reader posts the bail for her and if dani is in the hospital reader will be by her bedside everyday😭😭😭

dealer!dani comeback ✊ this has been in my drafts for a hot minute i apologize but here 🤲

– ECHOES OF SILENCE

warnings/tags: hurt/comfort, language, established relationship, f!reader, dealer!dani au, injuries mention, hospitals

to say you were worried would be an understatement. the first reason being told to stay home from daniela while she went out to a deal with others. the second being she never came back. you tried texting, you tried calling, you even called manon and minji to see if they knew anything only to get no answers. worried wasn't the right word anymore. you were starting to freak out once it reached day two of not hearing from her.

your first thought is she's ghosting you. for what reason? you could never know. while she's never done it before, part of you wouldn't be too surprised if she randomly decided to leave and not bother responding. your next thought is that something bad happened. that's the only other explanation. if she got arrested, thankfully you had bail money in a safe. if it was worse? you didn't want to think about it.

on day three you finally got an answer. scrolling through the news section on your laptop, your body freezes when you land on a certain article.

altercation in downtown los angeles in a drug deal leaves 1 dead and 3 wounded, 1 critical

"oh my fucking god," you let out, clicking on the article to open the full page. you skim over it quickly before landing at the bottom where it says the nearest hospital was. you quickly get up and change into something more presentable, slipping your shoes on before rushing out of the apartment.

getting to the hospital was easy, making your way through the hospital was not easy. they told you what room daniela was in, but finding the room was a fucking mess with how big the place was. when you finally found the room, you stopped when your hand touched the door. '1 critical', you remembered seeing. obviously you weren't told her condition with you immediately rushing off the second you were told the room number, so you had no clue what you were walking into.

taking a deep breath, you slide the door open, and freeze in your spot. she was asleep, an iv next to her going in her arm, her arm in a sling, a black eye and other bruises scattered across her body. you hesitantly take a few steps forward, sliding the door closed behind you as you approach the bed, not being able to hold back the sob building in your throat.

daniela's eyes slowly open the second the sob leaves your mouth, and she blinks a few times before realizing it's you standing next to her. "yn?" her voice is raspy as she says your name.

the tears start falling from your eyes before you can think, your arms wrapping around the girl carefully while sobbing into her neck. "i was so worried about you, i-i didn't know what happened, yo-you never came back."

with her moveable arm, dani runs her fingers through your hair, her heart clenching at your cries. "i'm sorry. i didn't mean to worry you," she says quietly. "i'm okay, i promise."

"you could've died!" you exclaim, pulling your head away to look at her. "y-you could've died a-and i would never know. i can't lose you, dani," your voice cracks as you speak, the tears still seeping down your cheeks.

daniela's hand moves up to cup your cheek, wiping away the tears that were still falling. "you won't lose me, i promise," she softly tells you. "i'm still here, i'm all in one piece, i'm okay. there's nothing to worry about."

"your arm is broken, dani," you respond. "and you look like shit. but i'm so glad you're okay."

"trust me, i'm glad too." she leans forward, pressing a soft kiss on your lips. "and now i can finally leave since you're here."

"good." you smile a little at her. "let's go home, we'll get something to eat on the way back. i know hospital food isn't the greatest."

"oh my god it's not even food i don't think!" daniela groans dramatically. "the only good part was the jell-o, seriously!"

you couldn't help but laugh at her words, nodding your head and patting her shoulder. "i'm sure."

a moment of silence fills the room before daniela speaks again in a quieter voice. "you're not mad, are you?"

"no." you shake your head. "but you aren't going anywhere until you're healed, and i mean anywhere, daniela," you tell her. "if someone is desperate enough for something, they can meet me outside the apartment. otherwise, no nothing until you're better, okay?"

"okay," she mumbles, nodding her head. "does this mean you'll be taking care of me the whole time?" she smiles a bit.

"don't get any ideas," you reply, already knowing what she was thinking. "you're the one who broke her arm."

"and you are my saving grace." she smiles wider.

"wow," you say, shaking your head. "are you concussed too?"

"nope, just in love with you," she answers.

"you're terrible."

"you love me."

[babvc-au]

Alrighty Folks! The Time Has Finally Come!

Hopefully this is everything and i didn't miss any panels or doodles for this post, but here is almost everything about BABVC's comic sketches, wips, doodles, refs, and even scripts i never finished, plus more! Doodles and other art stuff will be added to the end of this post. (Due to how many wips i have and such, there will be multiple reblogs happening as i go through this so bare with me.)

So, did you want to know how BaBvc would have went? Here's your answer. (This will contain a mix of the script, old comic wips and context)

Now, well jump to where we left off in the comic with a smol refresher.

Scene 6 Nightmare:

It's dark and bendy is in a black like void. He hears voices.

"Why? You had a chance!" OB growls.

"Who's there!?" Bendy shouts.

"Why did you resist?" OB

"What?"

Bendy's eyes are suddenly covered by cold clawed hands. And he tries to pry them off.

"Why!?" OB

"What are you talking about?! Who are you!" Bendy growls trying to fight them off.

"Don't keep me waiting much longer" we see the claws retract and three tails around Bendy.

"I'm sick of waiting"

The last shot is of Bendy's demon cross eye.

“But, how…?”

He hears a yawn from Boris as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, “good morning, Bendy”

Boris blinks at Bendy’s hand and the bag, "You better not eat that so early in the morning, Bendy.” Boris scolded, ears pinned back.

“What? No, i wouldn't do that. But...” Bendy says, looking at the can thoughtfully. "Did you get some more after last night…?" He asked the tall wolf. Boris raised a brow at him, confused. 

"What do you mean?" He asked. "That's the same bag from last night when we went to the market right?" He asked. 

"Well yeah but, I lost it, remember?" Bendy said and looked up at his younger brother. Boris stares at him in confusion. "...You did?" He asked. 

Camera focuses on the can in his hand.

Scene 8:

Bendy and Boris enter Berry cafe and take a seat at a booth.

"So you honestly don't remember?" Bendy starts looking across the table to his younger brother.

"I really don't. I only remember us getting the stuff, and then after that, it's all blurry. Like I blacked out or something, and then it was morning." Boris replied. "Are you sure you didn't just imagine you lost it? Maybe it was a dream that you had last night." He points out.

"..." Bendy thinks, "Maybe you're right. I've been having weird dreams, and I guess it's possible." He says tiredly. "Though it really felt like I wasn't dreaming." He mumbled to himself.

Then Melody comes around shortly after and asks them what they would like to order. "Hello, welcome to Berry's Cafe. What would you - oh! It's you two, the usual then?" She smiles and lifts her paper and pen.

Bendy lifts his head and gives a small smile. "Ah, yeah, for me, at least. Boris?" He looks over expectantly for his order.

"Oh! um, what's the special today?"

"New York cheesecake drizzled in strawberries and syrup, it's so good!" she smiles and hugs her notepad dreamily.

Boris perks at that smiling "Guess I know what I'm getting now, (haha) and can I get a hot coco with that, thanks Melody."

"No problem! I'll put your order in right away." She nods and walks away allowing Bendy to see the other residents in the cafe. And surprisingly enough he sees someone familiar. His eyes widened a little, shocked.

(Isn't that-?)

Bendy looks at his right wrist and rubs it lightly.

(So it hadn't been a dream? I should probably thank him.)

Bendy stood, making Boris look at him. "Bendy?"

"I'll be back."

Bendy walks away and heads for the familiar person.

"Uh, Hey." he says. Catching Cupheads attention who opens his eyes. He looks a little confused and shocked to see Bendy for a moment.

"I wanted to say thanks for the other night you really helped me back there." Bendy says looking to the side awkwardly.

Cuphead says nothing for a minute. His shock turns to annoyance.

"Yeah, whatever, watch yourself, you're lucky I found you when I did." Cuphead says with a steady look. "Didn't your mom teach you not to walk around at night by yourself?"

"It's dangerous." He glares, narrowing his eyes.

Bendy furrows his brows at the semi aggressive tone. "Hey, I came to thank you, not get a lecture! And I wasn't by myself."

"..."

"Anyway like I said, thank you, seriously." Bendy frowned.

Cuphead stands up and looks down at Bendy, who looks up at him in return nervously as they stare at each other.

"Here you go sir, your order." Tostie says, giving Cuphead two drinks.

"Thanks," he says.

She walks away.

"There you are, Cuppy!" A new voice sounds in the cafe besides Bendy.

Mugs comes over and stands by his brother's side. Who gives him an exhausted look.

"Here." Cuphead hands him the second drink.

"Oh! Were you in the middle of something?" Mugs looks between Bendy and Cuphead.

Cuphead gives Bendy another glare.

"No. Let's go." He walks off, but Mugs falters and gives Bendy a nervous smile and a wave before he follows.

"Geez, what a jerk." (At least the other guy was nice) Bendy sweats but shrugs it off heading back to Boris.

"Was that someone you knew?"

"Uh, not exactly," Bendy says as he slides back into the booth.

It's silent for a moment before Boris speaks up.

"Bendy, listen, I know you're just as confused as I am, but you haven't told me a single thing about what happened last night, I was really worried about you."

"I know, I promise to tell you when I've made sense of it, ok? Just… give me some time."

Boris sighs, "...Ok"

Bendy looks away and out the window covered in fog with a thoughtful look. It starts to snow a little.

Scene 9

Cuphead glares ahead. (The hell? Did I not wipe his memory correctly? And what's with that weird smell?) He rubs his nose.

Mugman watches him, concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Cuphead mutters. “I just need to go to the casino… again.”

Mugman frowns. “Huh? Why?”

“I’ll tell you later—unless you wanna come with me.”

Mugman hesitates, then nods. “Mmm… I’ll go with you.” Cuphead glances at him, his expression unreadable. Without another word, he keeps walking.

(Que this scene where they report to The Devil about Bendy being immune to memory wiping)

"Sir, I've come to report something." [Kneeling]

"What is it?"

"There's someone i met that's immune to memory wiping."

"..."

"Is that so..."

(Thus, The Devil orders Cuphead to keep an eye on Bendy and to report back if anything happens.)

Scene 12

Cuphead (bat form) climbs through the crack of the window in the kitchen. He hops to the ground and transforms back into his toon form. He dusts himself off and then looks up. Unexpectedly Bendy was in the doorway and saw everything.

(Que a funny nervous Bendy stares and throws a mug at Cuphead.)

Bendy runs to his couch and starts his spiel.

"What are you doing in my house!? Are you going to kill me!? You're a vampire! Aren't you supposed to stay out of houses unless you're invited!? Or something!?

"Huh?"

"Wait a minute, vampires have other weaknesses! I think I have a few things!"

Bendy runs out of the room, and Cuphead is left in confusion.

"Okay...this is weird." -sigh-

Bendy comes in and out with various "vampire deterrents"

"Garlic!?"

"No"

"A cross!?"

"Nope"

"A stake!?" (It's a twig)

"Na-da"

"Sunlight!?" (Its a flashlight.)

"Did you forget you saw me at the café?"

[greensagephase]

Thank you my dear @spdrvyn and @cupcakeinat0r

And thank you @oharaslove and @amberbalcom14 for reading and mentioning my fic! 🥹💕

Last song: "The Ways" - Khalid, Swae Lee

Favorite color: pink, gold, green, and purple

Last book/fic: I haven't read a full book in a hot minute, but I'm currently reading The Stolen Heir by Holly Black. Fic wise, I've read a wip of mine. Idk if that counts? 😭

Last movie: The Menu with Anya Taylor-Joy (I love her as an actress)

Last Show: Second season of Squid Games (why is the Frontman kinda...😌)

Sweet/spicy/savory: it's between sweet or spicy... probably sweet since I enjoy baking more than cooking!

Relationship: married to a 6'9" tall man 🤭 (single because real men scare me)

Last thing I googled: spider-verse. I saw that the movie has been allegedly delayed to 2029 💔

Current obsession: Miguel O'Hara. I've been obsessed with that man since 2023! 🤭 Also, lions? I watched Mufasa and my yt algorithm started giving me lion content (🧐), so I stumbled across an animal sanctuary's channel located in Africa, and it's pretty cool and heartwarming to watch and learn about the different animals there, but especially about the lions.

I look forward to telling you: You are loved and appreciated. I believe in you from my little corner of the internet on this app. Hard times will not last forever, even if they feel like they will. Something that may seem difficult to get through now, you'll look back on in some time and realize you have persevered. Also, thank you for the support and for making this app a safe space for me. 💖🫶🏼

No pressure tags and apologies if you've already done this: @miss-tarja @llumetrii @slushycoookie @faretheeoscar @giulscomix @bluesidez @swiftyangx12 @ridiculous-hibiscus @sh1mma @mercynguyen @opalwitchart @opaloharas and anyone else who wishes to join 💕

10 people I’d like to get to know better

10 people I’d like to get to know better

Since I had two separate tags in this, @spaceyjessa and @laughhardrunfastbekindsblog I decided I would make a separate post.

Last song:  with lyrics: Beautiful Boy by The Last Dinner Party (I found out about this band like two weeks ago and now I’m going through a phase I’m obsessed)

Without lyrics: I am ready by Kevin Kiner & Sean Kiner: from the bad batch season three soundtrack. Been listening to it a lot lately, as it feels pretty prevalent to the time of my life that I’m at

Favourite color: light pinks and baby blues

Last book/fic: the last book I finished was defy the storm, by Tessa Gratton (I’m getting closer and closer to being caught up on THR)

Fic: Mace Windu fixes the timeline (You should read it, it’s wonderful) 

Last movie: the rise of Skywalker (yes, I love the sequel trilogy and what about it 💅)

Last show: the bad batch... I’m re-watching, again... how predictable 🙄

Sweet/spicy/savory: I have a big sweet tooth, especially when it comes to chocolate

Relationship: single real life, but in love with countless fictional characters inside my head🤩

Last thing I googled: what does the quest cookies and cream protein bar taste like? (look, I have arfid. I can’t just buy new things to try without knowing exactly what I’m getting into first)

Current obsession: Star Wars, duh! Specifically clones and TBB, the Mandalorian and the high republic

I look forward to telling you: that if you’re reading this you’re wonderful

No pressure tags (and I’m sorry if you’re being tagged again)  @clonethirstingisreal @eobe @dystopicjumpsuit @sunshinesdaydream and anyone else who would like to.

[seat-safety-switch]

Everyone on the news is constantly screaming about how it's my duty as a citizen of Earth to stop working on my little projects, go outside, and kill some of the invading space bugs (from outer space.) And that's not true. Studies actually show that taking breaks makes you more productive when you get back to work. By spending some "me time" for a week or two, I'll be a much better bug-squashing soldier than before.

Which is not to say that my projects don't have value to the defence forces, either. I'm pretty sure that this radar-guided lawnmower could one day be used as a self-driving tank, and not just for YouTube clout. Nobody is really watching, anyway, because they're either enlisted in the military or hiding in one of the relocation camps after the bugs have taken over most of the urbanized world during their first strike. Put a big crimp in my view hours, for sure. My last couple of videos have been total dogshit, and there's some real gold in there.

Now, it is true that I didn't tell anyone where I was going. I just kind of assumed I could nip away for fifteen, twenty minutes tops. Extended bathroom break, can't deny that to someone working so hard. They wouldn't miss me while they were busy defending the outpost from the approaching waves of bugs, just too busy. Then I started to make some progress on the project, and before you know it, it had been a couple of days. Honestly, it would be kind of awkward if I went back there now.

Come to think of it, what has humanity done for me lately anyway? At least the bugs aren't going to bother me once they're done destroying our planet's energy and defence mechanisms, and rounding up most of the population to eat. They won't bother coming way out here for just one dumbass working on painting old Hot Wheels toys. Hey, this spray paint just killed a cockroach in my basement. Guess it's really toxic to bugs. I probably shouldn't be breathing so much of this stuff, but it's how I get my best ideas. What do you mean, "we have to call the president?" And ruin all this fun?

[thebrothel]

Heyyyy❤️ I’m here for the sleepover and I hope I’m not late😅 I don’t know what I’m asking for, anything honestly, but I’ve been thinking a lot about my man Nightwalks and his friendship with baby Vamp. I love their bromance so much and I’m definitely not opposed to be in that sandwich. So what if my car breaks down and it’s raining and I happen to walk to the brothel to ask for help and Nws and Vamp take me to their room to warm me up and Vamp is sweet and a little shy and Nws is 🥵🫠😵‍💫 asdfghjkl ya know, does his thing (this scenario brought me comfort when I was sick the last time🥹) I’m not even asking for smut. Just anything about these two will make me happy❤️😍

Love y’all and love you, Toxy💖💖💖

men of the night

After blowing out your tire, you pull into a sprawling, wooded estate. It's a foggy evening, and you get quite a scare. But your luck turns around when a mysterious man carries you to safety.

STARRING: vampire!Joel x f!reader x night walks!joel

LENGTH: 3.6k words

CONTENT: 18+ comfort, smut, minor injury, blood

NOTES: Love you, kate! I'm so happy these two bring you comfort. Ty ALL for your patience and support. Hope y'all enjoy this one. I do. 🩷

Your phone has been dead for a while by the time your tire pops. As your car hobbles along, you have no choice but to turn into the first driveway you see. Two big, steel gates are sitting open enough for you to pull in. Just after dusk, a dense fog has settled over the area. 

What is this place? 

You drive slowly, looking for signs of life. Someone you can ask for help, or at least to use their phone.

The road is winding. There are woods, lots of woods. When the tread falls off your tire completely, you’re still in a remote part of the complex, but you have no choice but to pull over. 

It starts raining. 

-

You get out your tire-changing supplies and you’re taking the spare tire out of your trunk when an imposing figure appears in your peripheral vision. You stare at the tire and freeze. Your heart races.  You’d know that figure anywhere. That stance. But it must be your imagination. Michael Myers isn’t stalking around some remote old estate waiting for a victim to blow out their tire. It’s probably the property owner. . . or groundskeeper. Huge groundskeeper. By the time you find the courage to look in the hulking figure’s direction, he’s gone. You exhale in relief, but then–are you hearing things, or are there footsteps receding into the forest? 

You need a minute. Deep breaths. 

Several deep breaths. Eyes closed. 

Then, back to the task at hand. 

You start using the tire jack and a sharp corner slices a hot line across the heel of your palm. “Shit,” you whisper.

You’re staring at your hand when a gentle voice some distance behind you calls, “Hey, You okay?” You jump and gasp, and he says, “Didn’t mean to scare ya, sorry.” 

You look over to see the silhouette of a man in a cape approaching. As his form pushes through the fog, you can see it’s not a cape, it’s a cardigan. He has the face of a kind professor. “Lost?” he asks, and his nose twitches. You stand up to face him, and his eyes fall on your bleeding hand. “Oh, fuck,” he mutters then yanks his eyes back to your face. He swallows and takes a handkerchief out of his cardigan then steps forward and hands it to you. “Here,” he whispers, then backs up and turns away to offer you a private moment, putting his hands back in his pockets. 

You thank him.

His adam’s apple bobs with a swallow, then he inhales through his nose and tilts his head up to the sky and mutters “Jesus.” He takes a deep breath through his mouth and composes himself, then forces a chuckle as he looks at you again. “All good?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you confirm. 

“Sorry, I’m Vahh....” his voice trails off as he realizes how strange this situation must be for you already, without knowing his condition. “Vam. You can call me Vam,” he decides. 

"Vam," you repeat, then share your name in return.

Your face is overcome with horror, but not at him. You're looking just over his shoulder, toward the woods. He turns to see what you’re looking at–who you’re looking at–Michael Myers, towering in a faded navy jumpsuit, mask and all. 

“Mike,” Vamp acknowledges the enormous slasher, then turns back to you to explain, “He prob’ly just wants to help.” 

You swallow and your eyes gaze over. You’re still staring over Vamp’s shoulder when Michael lifts up a big wrench. Your eyelashes flutter and your knees buckle under you.

“Oh, sweetheart-” Vamp lunges forward and catches you in his arms as you lose consciousness. “Oh boy,” he mutters to himself. 

Michael is still standing there. 

Vamp tells him, “Yeah–I’ll uh–you take care’a that, I’ll take care’a her.” 

Michael gives a single slow nod, then goes to the stripped tire, tools in tow. Vamp holds you securely with one muscular arm, then the other, as he takes his cardigan off and wraps it around you. “There ya go,” he whispers to you in your sleep, then scoops you up. “I’ve got ya, sweetheart.”

It's not a short walk, and vamp does his best to ignore the beautiful scent wafting from your hand. He passes the front of the mansion and no one notices, they're all watching tv together. Something exciting. A couple of them are bickering. Others are glued to the screen. For a moment, vamp wonders if he's missing a watch party, but he's far more intrigued by you.

As the road winds around back and vamp nears the joel mansion’s basement, you wake up in his arms. 

He feels your body tense as you lift your head up and ask, “Where am I?” 

“My buddy's place, he’s a real good guy, we’ll get ya dry, and warm, get ya back to your car….” 

He seems to carry you effortlessly. You can hardly take your eyes away from his face. He’s handsome and familiar. His eyes nearly glow. Is he real? Is any of this? You wrap your hands around his neck to get a better look. He presses his lips together and gives you a shy look, holding you, a stranger, in a bridal carry with his handkerchief wrapped around your sliced hand and his cardigan wrapped around your body. Your hair has gotten misty in the fog and drizzle, and so has his.  

“Who are you?” you ask. 

He exhales through pursed lips before answering, "I'm Vam, remember?” 

Your eyelashes flutter heavily again. 

“Hey, you’re okay, sweetheart” he reassures you. “You’re okay.” 

In lieu of knocking at the basement door, Joel taps it with his boot a few times. “N-dub,” he whispers, not wanting to disturb you. 

As the door opens, a man is saying, “No more edibles, man. You gotta…” but his voice trails off when he sees you in Vamp’s arms, wrapped up in the cardigan. He’s speechless. He steps out of the way. 

He’s handsome, too. You’re in a daze, but god, he's good looking, and he's got this vibe, you can tell that much. He has a joint behind his ear and his eyes are slightly glassy. The place smells of weed with a hint of patchouli and shaving cream. 

“Shit, man. Where’d you take her from?” the basement owner asks. 

“SHH!” Vamp responds. “I didn’t take her. She was stranded in the rain.”

“She okay?”

“Yeah,” you answer for yourself. 

“Michael scared her,” Vamp explains. 

“Well shit, guess we’ve all been there,” the man with the vibe says and closes the door behind you. 

You feel strangely at ease in the basement. It feels familiar, like a place you’ve been in your dreams or fantasies, but hadn’t fully visualized. At the same time, it feels foreign, like it’s a familiar place in a strange location. A little darker, maybe. A little off.  But still, the strong sense that you belong somehow.

 

Vamp sets you down in an easy chair and they both stand there looking at you, then each other.

The pothead steps forward and squats next to the chair to have a better look. He gently nudges your chin to look toward him, and keeps his hand there. His eyes soften and he bites half his bottom lip as he admires your features, then says,  “Well, god damn. . .” Then, as his hand leaves your face, his forearm brushes the cardigan and he feels the light misting of rain on it. “Let’s get you dry,” he offers, and nudges the cardigan open.

Hunger overtakes his face as he catches a glimpse of your body in your rain-soaked clothes. He doesn’t bother averting his eyes from your tits until you accidentally cough. 

Vamp reacts, “we gotta hurry, she's getting sick,” and goes to check the closet. “Where are all your clothes?” he asks his best friend. 

“Laundry day,” the basement dweller answers. “Shit.” 

You ask, “You got a robe or something?”

“Uh, yeah,” he retreats to his bathroom. 

Vamp takes the opportunity to discreetly tell you, “Hey, I think he’s kinda into you. So if he makes you uncomfortable at all…”

“I can handle it,” you smile, and you get butterflies at the thought. “What’d you call him? Indub?” you ask. 

Vamp chuckles. “That's just his initials. It's Night walks,” vamp answers. 

“First name ‘knight’?”

“No you say it like one word, nightwalks.”

“Nightwalks and Vam, huh?”

Vamp nods, then asks, “You want a bath to warm up?” 

“Uhhh… I am kinda chilly, yeah” 

He calls over to the bathroom, “Hey nightwalks? Draw her a bath while you’re in there.” 

“Do what to the bath?” night walks laughs at the old fashioned term.

“Run a bath, man. C’mon.” 

The water starts, and night walks emerges holding a silk, leopard print robe. He lets it hang over his muscular shoulder as he kneels to take your shoes and socks off. 

Vamp leaves to attend to the bath. 

You giggle and flinch as your second sock is pulled off. 

“Ticklish?” Night walks smiles, eyebrows up.

You shrug demurely. 

He prowls up the lazy chair hovering over you, then kinda hugs you, hooking one strong arm under your back. “Let’s get you outta this,” he murmurs. 

You stand, and he helps for balance to make sure you’re not too dizzy. 

“I’m okay,” you whisper, and he lets you stand on your own two feet.

He nudges the cardigan off your shoulders and it falls behind you.  His eyes scan your body then meet your eyes again. You rub your lips together trying not to flirt with him, but there’s a cheeky sparkle behind your eyes. There’s something darker but equally charming behind his. 

And there’s a calming energy that seems to waft from him to you. Comfort and desire is thick in the air. 

He begins to take your clothes off, slow and intimate as if he doesn’t know how to do it any other way. His warm hands glide over your hips and up your sides as he lifts your thin, wet shirt.

He lets you keep on the undershirt for now. Not that it makes much of a difference. 

He stares at your tits, nipples blazing through the damp, thin undershirt. No bra.

“Freeballin’,” he nods in approval. “My kinda’ girl.” 

You can’t help but giggle at that. 

He adjusts himself, making your loins buzz, then he kneels to unbutton your jeans.  As he takes down the zipper, your face heats up as you remember the panties you’re wearing - they’re printed with a she-devil whose tail points down to your cunt. 

“Oohh,” He coos nearly under his breath, “We got a bad girl here.”  

You cringe at yourself and mutter, “oh, god,” 

He looks up and doesn’t laugh. “My kinda girl,” he repeats, locking eyes with yours. 

As he takes your pants down, his hands glide down and around your hips and linger on your ass for a squeeze. “God damn,” he whispers. 

Once your pants are off, for the first time, he notices the bloody handkerchief in your hand. It had been tighter in the clutches of your fist before.  

“Oh, shit,” he comments. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just a little cut,” you answer and glance at it to check. “It's fine, it stopped bleeding.”

He takes the handkerchief from you and discards it on the chair. He inspects your palm. “I dunno if I got any first aid shit,” he mutters to himself. 

“It’s fine, really,” you reassure him. He holds your hand, inspecting your palm, then looks at your face again. His eyes fall on your mouth and he seems to forget what he was thinking about. He wets his lips. “God damn, you’re hot,” he murmurs. 

“Thanks,” you whisper, thinking the same about him. 

He laces his fingers with yours as he steps even closer, then he brings his hands to your waist. 

Your head tilts upward, watching him look back and forth between your eyes. 

He leans in and your lips meet. 

There’s a spark, more of a spark than you’ve ever felt, and he must feel it, too. He slips his tongue into your mouth as his hand meanders and grabs your ass. “Mm,” he hums into your mouth. You put your arms around his neck and he pulls you against him. A warm bulge throbs against you, making you moan into his mouth. 

He breaks the kiss to murmur, “There’s my bad girl,” then he kisses you again and crosses his hands behind your back to take off your undershirt. 

He takes a long, deep breath as he looks at your tits, then urgently pulls you up against him again, one hand cradling your head as he feeds you his tongue

He grinds against you as you kiss, and your fingers lift the back of his shirt. He takes it off, breathing heavily, then says, “c’mere, baby.” His lips attack your neck as his thumbs hook into your panties and pull them down below your ass cheeks. He gives you a little spank then groans into your neck. 

Fuck, he's hot.  

His palm slides down your crack and between your legs until his middle finger can feel your dripping hole. “Hell yeah,” he breathes against your neck as he reaches further. Then he breaks away from your neck and wedges his other hand in between the two of you to finger you from the front. The hand in the back palms a cheek, fingers spanning quite a distance on your skin. 

He rubs you from the front and you moan. “Yeah, that's right, sugar.” He closes his eyes and tilts his head slightly upward as he touches you, letting himself get absorbed entirely by the feeling of you in his hands.

You're hypnotized by the veins on his neck and the rhythm of his fingers through your slick. 

The way he touches you, it’s like he knows exactly what you like. And his hands, they feel so…

“Oh, daddy,” the word slips from your lips and he replies, “Mmm,” and looks down to observe your face of pleasure. He grinds himself against your hip as he fingers you just the way you like. Like he'd done it dozens of times before - to you. 

“Yeah, cum for daddy,” he breathes then nudges your forehead with his nose, prompting you to lift your chin for his lips to take yours again. 

He moans into your mouth, the shape of his cock stiff against your hip through his PJs, his hand between your legs, and one on your ass.

As his fingers push you over the edge, you break away to moan, then stifle it in his bare shoulder, gently biting. 

“Good girl,” he whispers, “fuck yeah.” 

You cum in the palm of his hand, and he moans. 

“Attagirl,” he breathes, “fuck.” 

He shudders and groans, then his hard-on throbs against you and a warm, wet spot spreads through his PJ pants. 

“Damn,” he mutters. 

A short sigh comes from behind you. 

“Hey “ Night walks greets vamp matter of factly as he catches his breath. He looks vamp up and down and vamp casually covers his crotch, prompting a smirk from night walks.  

Vamp clears his throat, “Bath’s ready.” 

“Thanks,” night walks says. “Now I need one too,” he chuckles, then turns his attention back to you. “You’re real damn hot, you know that?”

He kisses you gently on the mouth then says, “finish this later,” with a wink. He pulls your soaked panties from your thighs down to your feet and helps you into the silk robe. 

-

You make your way into the bathroom and Vamp lingers in the living room with night walks. Never judging, he’s simply raising his eyebrows in a question - how did that happen? 

“Just happened, man,” night walks says, then squints. “She familiar to you?” 

“Uh, YEAH,” vamp agrees. “Smells familiar.” 

Night walks sucks his slick fingers and says, "Tastes familiar."

“Nice bathroom,” you announce, and both men file into the room to see if you need anything. “Never seen a bathtub this big,” you add, stretching out your arms, tits on display. 

Night walks takes the opportunity to ask, “Want some company?” 

“Sure,” you smile, and he takes down his pj pants. 

“Room for three?” night walks asks on behalf of his buddy. 

“Yeah,” you agree. 

Night walks asks, “You wanna be sandwiched or wanna look at his pretty face?” He can’t let vamp sit behind you. Too much neck access. 

“I’ll take the extra body heat,” you answer with a flash of your eyebrows.

-

Night walks gets in the bath behind you and settles his legs outside yours. You can feel all of him against your back. He sneaks in a squeeze of both tits as vamp prepares to get in front of you.

Vamp is a solidly built man. Not in a distinctly muscular way. A little softer than night walks, but he’s just so broad. His back flexes as he gets into the tub and rests back on you. His hair smells nice. And your tits feel amazing against his back.  

Sandwiched between them, you feel their breathing. You just sit and feel it for you don’t know how long. Your breathing synchronizes. All three of you.

You’re almost lulled asleep--maybe you even are asleep-- until vamp gasps softly. 

You look down to see a faint red plume coming from your hand. 

“Oh, crap,” you react. 

“He can take care’a it,” Night walks murmurs, sounding half asleep. “He’s got ya.” 

“How?” you ask. 

“Kiss it better, man,” night walks encourages, then sighs with how comfortable he is with you nestled between his legs, laid back on his chest. He gets a waft of your hair and sighs, “Mm.” 

“You gonna kiss it better?” you ask vamp with a giggle.

“Sure, I can if ya want,” he offers and holds your wrist. He plants a kiss on the lower end of your wound, letting his lips linger long enough to inhale as much of your scent his nostrils can get. 

It’s not just a kiss. To the naked eye, it’s just a kiss, but it feels like more. It feels like healing. It feels almost like...pleasure. He takes his lips away and the part he kissed is no longer bleeding. 

“Whoa,” you whisper. 

“Pretty cool, huh?” Night walks mutters over your ear. 

“You want more?” vamp asks. 

“Yeah,” you answer. No brainer.

Night walks takes your un-injured hand around to vamp’s abdomen and rests it on vamp’s thick, semi-hard, uncut cock. The shape under your hand sends a pang of desire down your spine and between your legs. 

“might lose a little blood,” vamp warns. “But not much.” He brings your hand to his mouth, kisses your wound again, starting at the top and sliding his lips all the way down it. Then he shifts his lips a bit, and something smooth begins to slowly trace the cut as his lips slide back up the wound. You feel a suction along the cut, and at the same time, his cock stiffens under your palm. You reflexively palm his shaft, holding it against his stomach.

The suction in your palm feels good. Your nipples harden and a rush of pleasure shoots down your chest, then lower. 

“Oh, god,” you whisper. 

When he reaches the top of the cut, his lips break away with a moan, as you continue to massage him. “More?” he asks breathily. 

You nod, “please.” 

He repeats the process, ever so slowly, twice. . .and you go from massaging his cock to pumping it, until he’s coming against his stomach underwater, moaning into your hand.

When night walks slips his hand between you and vamp, you realize your hips have been moving, seeking pressure. Night walks finishes you off, and God, you cum hard.

Night walks’s dick is hard against your back, and you’d love to do something for him, but you’re utterly spent. Your palm looks good as new, and you can hardly keep your eyes open. Vamp twists his torso to look back and check in on you. He idly tongues his sharp incisor. 

You look at him, eyelashes fluttering and say, “You’re….” He closes his lips and swallows, and he looks away, expecting you to say that word he doesn’t like. But you don’t. . . “Special,” you say, making his heart swell. 

“You too,” he whispers as your eyelids fall shut. 

Your head lulls back against night walks and he asks vamp, “she okay?” 

“Yeah,” vamp answers. “Most people can’t process that kind of pleasure their first time.” 

“That’s why she’s passed out? God damn,” night walks says. “We’re the dream team, buddy.” 

“Let’s get her to bed,” Vamp says. 

—-

“This is all good, right?” vamp asks night walks as they get you situated nude in the bed. All three of you are dried off. 

“Yeah, bud,” night walks reassures vamp in a whisper. “We’ve got a duty to act.”

“That’s doctors,” vamp replies, then lowers his whisper more. “Not….men of the night.” 

“Shhh,” night walks replies. "we gotta keep her warm."

You stir and let out a sigh. Vamp is wearing silky shorts and night walks is in fresh boxer briefs.

They settle in on either side of you. After a minute, vamp whispers, “hey, n-dub?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Is she really familiar to you?” 

“Yeah,” night walks answers unequivocally. 

“Me too,” vamp agrees. “I think she–” 

“Let’s talk about it later,” night walks whispers. 

“Yeah,” vamp agrees. 

“Get some sleep, man,” night walks encourages. 

Vamp starts to respond, “I…” then doesn’t bother. “Yeah.” 

“Oh. Sorry, bud.” 

“It’s okay,” vamp says, then asks, “but hey, if I go in my restful state, will you rouse me if you're gonna fuck her?” 

“I think you'll be ‘roused,” night walks chuckles. “But sure, buddy.”

Vamp gets up on his elbow, then hovers over your face. strokes your cheek and plants a kiss on your forehead. “Sweet dreams,” he whispers. 

---

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I sincerely hope y'all enjoyed this as much as I did 💕. Ty kate for the prompt that kinda led me to write a comfort fic for myself too lol.

Note: in English, "woman of the night" is a tame or old fashioned way of saying female sex worker

[rom-e-o]

So, like, I know Rook and Emmrich are supposed to be "moving fast" in their relationship. But what does that mean for Belismrich? What's their timeline for relationship markers?

For Guineverich it's, of course, the first kiss/makeout session on their first official date. Which is practically recklessly fast for G'iney, considering the best outcome for any of her first dates previously was the guy giving her a handshake as he dropped her off home before vanishing into the night to leave her to her life of health issues, never to be seen again. The second date already has Emmrich bringing food to her place and them getting hot and heavy with him sucking on her tits and both their hands down pants at the very least. So there's quite an amp-up there in that extremely short time span. (Girl even has a mini identity crisis in front of friends, wondering if she's "that type" of woman: "Is that what I am--the fast girl? Easy? Loose? Is that who I am?" To which friends suggest: "This seems less about who you are and more about who Emmrich could be." [i.e. The One]). Then three months of varying degrees of sexual experimentation and fun before they finally go all the way. Which might not be particularly fast for a lot, but for Guinevere, who thought she'd never even lose her virginity because she would never give it up to anyone who she wasn't sure was her true love but had little hope of ever finding that, it's practically breakneck.

Oh, those Ravens? Get it, you two. It is very, VERY much deserved.

I was thinking about this ask as we discussed the other one, specifically regarding how "fast" Emmrich and rook really move in their relationship, and how quickly things come to fruition, are consummated, etc.

For G'iney to take the plunge into making out on the first date is a pretty dang big deal. We've established that they have a good foundation of friendships & communication (not to mention Manfred being an adorable matchmaker that ties them together as a family unit from the get-go). The second date, the fact that they're already getting hot and heavy to that degree is a testament to how compatible they are.

I can see where G'iney's worry comes from. I mean, you're going from 0-100, so pausing to think for a minute is a good sign. I can only imagine Neve brings her back to reality. "This has never happened before, like you said. So, that tells me that this specific time is special. That he is special. Trust what you feel, Guinevere. You're cautious and careful. If there were red flags, you're not one to miss them. And I must say ... you two are very cute together." ;)

Emmrich might even do to some companions of his own for advice. He doesn't have many close friends (academia kept him distracted) but it would be fascinating if he went to Lucanis. Harding, as well, who seems to be the one he opens up the most to about relationships/marriage.

"I do worry, I confess. Are Guinevere and I moving too quickly? I don't want to push her, but everything just feels so natural and right."

H: Really? Sounds like there's no issue.

L: I agree. If things were moving too fast, Guinevere would tell you. She is capable of speaking her mind, as I'm sure you know. Keep your ears open, my friend, but otherwise, embrace it. You both deserve it.

For Belismerich? Ohoho. Well~

So, their first time having sex is in the coffin in the Necropolis. It any universe, I think it take about 6 months for them to sleep together.

Ebenestance and Belismerich both sleep together on the third date, technically, haha.

Belisma isn't a virgin, but she has ... things to work out. She's a sweet, wonderful, kind woman (I'm bias, haha) ... but she has a lot of rage inside her. Not at Emmrich, but at life. It hasn't been kind to her. At all. She realizes she's maybe a little emotionally immature as well, and wants to work on it.

She needs time to unpack all that before diving in deep with a man who, in her opinion, deserves the world. She is not a woman that will throw her heavy baggage to a loved one and yell "CATCH."

Emmrich deserves more.

Still, I do think Emmrich and her move fast. Not necessarily sexually...but intimately.

After the first kiss, they can be found necking in the dark corridors of the Lighthouse, or embracing each other frequently. Or even reading love poetry to each other in the library.

I think they sleep together (as in they literally ONLY sleep) after that dinner date. They make-out, she feels his erection, and then go back to her room and just...unwind. Make-up/jewelry off, pajamas changed. They see each other casual and bare-faced. They read to each other. They talk. They make shadows with their entwined hands against the candlelight. It's lots of honeyed words and softness. Some groping, but nothing too crazy.

After that, they get each other off with handjobs/blowjobs (which is when Davrin's 'tugging at the old bone' comment comes in, haha).

By the third 'date', it's clothes off and full coupling. It may be their first time in bed, but also by then, they've seen each other nude and satisfied another in bed.

After that? They're off to the races. Post-game, she and Emmrich immediately move in together, travel with Manfred (when he says "There is so much I want to show you" <3) and are...pretty frequent in bed. Marriage and babies follow shortly, haha.

[cangrellesteponme]

wife

[gods-perfect-idiots]

something something blood-soaked hands cradling your face something something

anyway here's the post btw

[pocket-size-cthulhu]

The thing about Return of the King and the like 17 endings people make fun of is that each time something happens, you can see it in Frodo's face: there's something wrong. When he wakes up and is greeted by his companions, you can see it at the end of that scene. At the coronation; at the Green Dragon; when Sam woos Rosie; at the wedding; in his home; he's different. Changed. Distant. He's a shell of who he used to be. He's finding himself incapable of truly moving on. "How do you pick up the threads of an old life?" He's pale, a ghost of who he was, sort of floating through these familiar scenes that used to fill him with joy. The rot that consumed him for so long left him hollow.

You see him ride to the harbor like this. Pale and stony-faced as he says goodbye, like it makes him sad in a far-off way that can't really touch him.

But then, the moment he boards the ship, there's a change: he turns, and smiles, and it's a real smile, like for the first time in years he knows he's going to be alright. His face has a healthy glow. He's full of love for the people he's leaving behind, but he knows it's time to go and that for once in his kinda cursed life, everything is going to be ok.

That's why it has to have a bazillion ending catharsis scenes. If you didn't see Frodo, over and over, unhappy somehow despite all the happiness that surrounds him, his choice to leave would make no sense. And the magnitude of what he sacrificed to save Middle-Earth from its doom wouldn't settle on you the way it does. He saved the world at the cost of his own ruin. He sacrificed everything. He had no idea the cost would be so heavy - he expected to die, but he certainly didn't expect to survive but find himself unable to live. He tried to slip back into it the way Sam, Merry and Pippin did, but... It just didn't work. The corruption that had taken him was something that time alone could not heal.

So it shows us, over and over and over: Frodo can't stay here. He can't belong here anymore. He has to go. We get to witness his final moment of catharsis. And then we get one last scene where we see how Sam moves on, aching but one and whole, to live a life with people who are with him now. It's bittersweet! But it's right.

[allastoredeer]

Do you have an idea of when you might release the next part of just kiss already? I don't want to rush you or anything, I'm just curious

I was hoping to get it finished and posted this weekend, but it's getting longer than I anticipated, so my new goal is to have it finished and posted by next weekend.

I have been rewriting the first three fics in between writing this one, and I actually just posted the revised version of "De-Lovely" this morning ^.^ (shoutout to halleyshiro! Thanks for beta'ing for me! You're amazing 😍)

The story is ultimately the same, nothing MASSIVE was changed. I just went a little deeper in description and hashed out more of Lucifer's thoughts and feelings. I think it flows a LOT better now and I'm very happy with how it turned out. You don't have to reread it to understand the rest of the series, but there's a few more goodies added to it if you're looking for anything new, so its there if you want it 😊

Crossing my fingers that this next fic won't take much longer LOL I'm very excited to post it. I'm having a lot of fun with Alastor and Lucifer's dynamic.

[spadefish]

.

[silverselfshippingchaos]

SHUT UPPPP him getting the expert idea to throw a guy at his brother and then laughing about it is so...

[natjennie]

someone get me out of hereeeee

[nobodybetterlookatme]

So anyway the date went well lmao