#spring cleaning the drafts

[starbylers]

“Stranger Things is about supernatural stuff not romance! There’s no time for Byler or any romantic drama in season 5, they have to focus on defeating Vecna! Byler makes no sense anyway because it hasn’t been built up and it’s too late to start now!”

The truth: the reason people think this is because what they’re interpreting as "romance" is the few & far between overtly romantic scenes and nothing else, as opposed to recognising the stories of the numerous different relationships on the show as being the point. This is how we can infer that Byler is the end goal. These writers don't do fluff. They build up romances by focusing on the things that actually make a relationship strong: teamwork, emotional connection, and overcoming problems. They show "romance" in every pairing effectively working together, in how much they understand each other emotionally, and in their conflicts & how they handle them. It’s not about displaying "romantic” behaviour between characters but about the narrative of the relationships; who these people are, why they are right for each other and what they go through to be together. And all of this stuff happens alongside and intertwined with the supernatural action.

Overt romance is shied away from in the characters who are in love. For example in season 1, Janc.y are basically shown as “detective partners” with a little tension & one cheek kiss at the end. In season 2 they have the same working together plot, they just also show Jon looking after Nancy when she's drunk; that one hand touch & brief sad exchange about how she didn’t wait for him after s1; and then the (offscreen) hook up after Murray grills them, that you could call overtly romantic but even then it really doesn’t take up much time and—aside from their time at Murray’s when everything between them finally pays off—is very subtle. In season 3 they’re shown waking up together to establish that they’re dating, then I believe they kiss once a little later, and the rest of the season there’s (unpleasant) tension & arguing about work before they reconcile & fight alongside each other….and at the very end they get an affectionate goodbye with one kiss. Max 3 overt moments there (and 2/3 really are moments not even scenes). Then in season 4 their entire story is about their conflict & there’s literally no “romance” outside of them telling other people in the beginning that they love each other although they’re having issues, and then their reunion at the very end after they’ve both gone through separate journeys but again…that’s is their romance. It’s not about showing them off as "being a couple" or "being in love" (even though we know they are), it’s about telling a story grounded in reality, the story of Jonathan and Nancy and their relationship. That’s how the Duffers do it.

Then there’s Joppe.r! They don’t have any “romantic” scenes until s3, and even in s3 it’s mainly about them being friends & working together, building from that same foundation from the first two seasons. The romantic implications are just more textual at that point because of the Enzo stuff & Murray clocking them, and I believe they have one more intimate scene when they’re in the Russian base at the end but the majority of their bond is built via their teamwork and general closeness. Then in s4 same as Janc.y they’re completely separate until their reunion & long earned kisses, and the "romance" is in them fighting to get back to each other & keep their promises.

Romance is very much part of the show, it’s just mostly subtextual and focused on larger arcs. And as I said: all of this stuff happens alongside and intertwined with the supernatural action. There is absolutely always time made for it and there will continue to be in season 5. People appear to see romance as some sort of separate entity to the rest of what’s going on when it’s literally just another form of character relationship and that’s like…as important to the success of the show as the supernatural. Romance is not some superfluous unserious thing it’s a legitimate part of what often brings the necessary heart & humanity to a story (along with platonic love), otherwise it would all just be mechanical and clinical with little reason to care what happens to these people. And don’t just take my word for it:

“People talk about mythology and the Upside Down, and all that is huge, but the magic of season 5 are the characters who find a sense of belonging with each other and through that connection, become heroes.” ~ Shawn Levy

I think maybe it’s also that people don’t see how plot ≠ story. Simplistically I would say plot is the action we are seeing unfold, story is what this action is telling us (story is the "show", plot is more "tell", if you will). This is precisely why I don’t care about the fact that Mike & Will don’t have textually romantic scenes, and I don't buy into what often feels to me like Bylers warping certain moments that are about building a connection/building the storyline between Mike & Will into being romantic when—although through an analytical lens you can recognise it as build up—in-universe they’re pretty much not romantic at all yet. And they don't need to be. We don't need Byler to have been "romantic" the whole time. That’s not the Duffers M.O., they like to build relationships largely on, as I've explained: friendship, being a team, intimate conversations and hints of something more until it pays off eventually (and then even when couples start dating they introduce more conflict). They seem to be of the mind that everything else is fluff and are very sparing and intentional with it. But I concede it’s not to everyone’s taste and I can see how it might lead someone to think ST doesn’t focus much on romance. (And they don’t mind you, it’s not a romance show, but it’s inaccurate imo to claim it's not given importance. It is, just in a very show-don’t-tell manner over any cutesy stuff. In fact the tipoff is they use that stuff to demonstrate to us who the unserious couples are 👀*.)

Byler have their Duffer-style build up (close friendship, teamwork, deep conversations and hints of tension), albeit less obvious/more complicated because they’re boys in the 80s and it’s meant to be a twist (and on top of that people just having a harder time seeing it due to heteronormativity). A complicated/imperfect but deep friendship, spent a season facing supernatural stuff as a pair & being there for each other emotionally, spent a season with the character-focused parts of their (California) plotline almost entirely dedicated to them having six whole different heart to hearts & emotionally supporting each other again (tied into/alongside the plot), moments of tension & feeling that anyone would recognise as potential for romance if they were straight…it’s all there. And no, it doesn't matter that Mike was caught up over El in s4 or that she was often part of their conversations. Nancy was caught up over Steve early in the show while Jonathan was there for her. The point is what these scenes show us about their relationship i.e. how much Will cares for Mike’s happiness, how he’s the only one Mike feels safe opening up to and being comforted by, and how Will makes him feel confident in himself (obviously there's much more to that storyline that points to Byler but I'm just trying to get a point across). So yeah ST has its romance, it just does it in a mostly subtle, story-focused way. And that's how we can see Byler has had build up, and why there was always going to be time for said build up to continue & culminate next season.

*Keep reading if you want to see how Mileve.n, Stanc.y & Bob/Joyce do not fit this pattern at all ⬇️

Mileve.n completely breaks these rules btw: no friendship foundation to their insta-romance, have never had a story about working as a team, have legitimately zero deep conversations after one brief exchange in s1, and there’s absolutely no subtlety with them: they constantly cling to each other & make out & go on a (very forced given the context) date & engage in showy gestures like flowers and El’s Mike shrine 😭 & have a recurrent plot point about saying ily until Mike has to give a melodramatic monologue. Same goes for Stanc.y: no friendship foundation, no teamwork, no deep talks. Just kissing/sleeping together, partying and drama about saying ily. And Bob/Joyce even though it’s a little different because they’re adults: not friends before dating, lack of teamwork because Joyce is so reluctant & refuses to fully let him in until she's forced, and a focus on couple-y stuff like making out, dates & dancing, and talk about moving in together. We know the fate of those last two couples so…

[im-not-buying-it-ether]

Still not over the “Captain Marvel is 8’5” to Billy Batsons 5’4”” reblog and thinking of someone seeing this unit of a man with all the kindness and positive radiance of a pure hearted child stopping a giant robot from crushing them like “sorry to bother you, I’ll get this out of your way lickety split!” And when he’s done demolishing the robot and looking like the wrath of god while doing so he just pops back down to ask if he can pet someone’s dog he saw while fighting.

The dog loves him, people are slightly perturbed bc he doesn’t even look human, he does but he’s uncanny. Just perfect symmetrical face with no blemishes and hair that refuses to budge but so unapologetically sweet and courteous Fawcett gets used to him and just get used to him being a home grown sweetheart.

Cue anyone else seeing him, like the League, and its alarm bells. He’s too good, he’s too perfect looking, and by god why is he so big.

First day? Batmans is upset he can’t find a facial match, Clark is suddenly in everyone else’s shoes at having to crane his neck to talk to the guy most the time, and Barda challenges him to a few strength tests he stalls out to have pleasant conversations with her during.

Diana just rings up the Olympians like “hey, did you guys make someone because this guy doesn’t look human right and says he works for Zeus.”

Again, down the line, identity reveal after the JL just got used to him after a week, and they are staring down at this scrawny teenager with chunky glasses, hearing aids, a face only a mother could love with all the scars, and rope burn scars on his wrists as he politely waves and introduces himself as radio host Billy Batson.

[livwritesstuff]

Eddie walks into his house after a three-day work trip in NYC to find…..a lot of boxes.

Most of them cardboard, most of them labeled DONATE or TRASH or GARAGE in Steve’s familiar handwriting.

“Oh, jeez,” Eddie mutters, because he knows what this is. Sure enough, he follows a trail of boxes upstairs to find the rest of his family in his youngest daughter Hazel’s room.

“Spring cleaning?” Eddie asks.

“Spring cleaning,” Moe says with an affirmative nod.

“Just Hazel’s room?” he asks, because Moe and Robbie are looking awfully comfortable sitting on Hazel’s bed while Hazel herself is rummaging through a back corner of her jam-packed closet, Steve watching over her shoulder with his hands on his hips.

“Uh, well, Moe ‘doesn’t do clutter’,” Steve says as he looks over at Eddie, “and therefore is exempt, apparently, and Robbie’s room gives me a migraine.”

“Plus,” Moe cuts in, “Robbie’s room is all clutter. If we get rid of it all, she'd have no personality left.”

“Hey,” Robbie says, jabbing her elbow into Moe's side, “Don’t be rude.”

Steve gives Eddie a do you see what I’m dealing with kind of look as Hazel finally emerges from her closet. 

“Dad, do you want this?” Hazel asks, holding out a very small, dog-shaped notebook with a comically large spiral binding that she probably acquired when she was in elementary school, “For writing or whatever?”

“Uh…”

“Just say yes so I can move some shit out of here,” Steve mutters, so Eddie takes the notebook from Hazel, and as soon as she was turning back to her closet, Steve took it from him and tossed it into the ‘Donate’ box in the hallway.

A moment later, Hazel emerged again, turning around to show everyone two plastic lawn flamingos (mismatched, Eddie notes).

“Thoughts?” she asked.

“Hon, those don’t even match,” Steve says (and he sounds all beleaguered and everything as if all this wasn’t his crusade to begin with), “They’re two totally different shades of pink.”

“Well, did you know that they’re actually white when they’re born? And then they eat mostly shrimp and that’s how they turn pink.”

Steve just stares at her for a moment, “Okay, Haze, those are plastic.”

“You should keep those,” Moe said, “Genuinely they’re, like, decor. You can put them somewhere.”

They spend a few minutes watching Hazel precariously balance the flamingos’ spindly legs on top of her bookshelf, but it doesn't take long for something else to catch Steve's eye.

“What’s that?” Steve asks, jutting his chin in the direction of something on an open shelf of Hazel’s dresser.

Hazel fetches a plastic Starbucks cup with a dozen or so dusty rocks inside.

“They’re rocks,” Hazel points out, “From when we went to the Grand Canyon.”

“Okay…” Steve says slowly, “Do they have to be in your sock drawer?”

“Why don’t you put them on your windowsill?” Robbie suggests, “You can charge the rocks, like, spiritually.”

“Oh yeah, there’s an idea,” Steve comments, but Hazel is already halfway to the window. Still, she pauses, and then turns back to face them.

“Do you think they miss their home?” she asks.

“What?” Steve looks at her.

“In the Grand Canyon?”

“Oh, Hazel,” Steve sighs.

“We could try to ship them back,” Moe suggests.

“None of you are helping.”

[grymghoul]

giving Arthur head request. im not ashamed

Me either

Sucking his dick is a heavenly experience. He's for the most part, a gentleman. He wants to give more than he receives. He goes down on you. So when he is presented with the opportunity, he holds back. He doesn't want you uncomfortable. That does not stop you from guzzling down his fat cock like a starved individual. All drooly and stupid for it. When he bucks up, he's testing the waters. You moan and nod and then he's fucking into your mouth. He hears you time your breath with each pull back. The way you swallow around him and gag. It's all too much for him. His heavy cock unloads on your tongue and throat, he keeps it there, so you have no choice but to swallow.

[midorimooon]

bad timing | hawks x sidekick! reader

word count - 1.5k notes - just a drabble featuring reader as hawks's sidekick. no plot, just these two flirting and having inappropriate work relations. warnings - suggestive, no smut! just humor and banter. allusion to erection.

Something pelts your shoulder, plopping at your feet.  Clicking your tongue, your bleary eyes blink at the hacky sack on the floor.

You look up, frowning. “Can I help you?”

A red feather plucks up the hacky sack and drops it onto Hawks’s palm. He tilts his head, assessing you. “What’s with the slow motion? You look tiiiiired.”

On cue, a yawn slips out before you can stop it. Between the late-night patrol and reporting back to Hawks’s agency at the crack of dawn, your sharp motor skills have turned to cotton, leaving you exhausted. Sidekick duties never seem to end. 

You shrug, failing to cover another, more hefty yawn. “I’m fine.”

Hawks snorts a mimicry of your own voice. “’I’m fine’. Says someone who’s dead on her feet.”

“I’m fine,” you echo, rubbing the corner of your eye. “Just a little sleepy. I’ll wake up in a bit.”

Ice rattles as a full cup of coffee is shaken before your face. Hawks urges you to take his drink. “Here, this’ll help.”

Your nose wrinkles and you inch away. “Don’t like coffee.”

Hawks sips on the straw, smacking his lips. “Then sleep.”

Another yawn springs forth. “Right...I'll just snooze while on the clock."

"Who cares? Have a nap." He gestures to the couch, beaming with mischief. “It’s big enough for the both of us. Did you know I’m a good cuddler?”

Your frown deepens. “Don’t you have paperwork? Or a meeting elsewhere? Interns to train?”

Unfazed, Hawks shrugs. “All of the above, but those can wait. I’m more concerned about my sidekick. She needs my attention right now…” His voice drops into a playful purr as he motions forward. 

You step backward, maintaining an HR-appropriate distance. It’s obvious where Hawks wants this to go. You can decipher his tells at a distance—how his eyes rake up your body, snagging on your lips as he bites his own, all without shame too. Then comes the crooning in his voice, the pride whenever he says my sidekick, and how he knows you’re just as shameless as he is. 

The corner of your mouth curls, proving him right time and time again.   

Is it professional? Of course not. But you both have a pulse, unable to ignore that sweet, sexual tension that’s been brewing since you signed with his agency. 

You’ve both mastered this dance between boss and subordinate. It’s always business in front of others. Strictly maintaining a professional and platonic façade with the public wasn’t hard either.

What’s hard was the endless close proximity to him. On assignment, there were other sidekicks tagging along, and the occasional intern from UA. 

Still, that never stopped either of you from exchanging heated looks and sometimes touches when no one was looking. The rare moments when there was no one around often tested those professional boundaries, like right now. 

Because despite it all, there remains that fine line you’ve yet to cross. Him on one side, you on the other. Only time will tell when and who will be the first to throw caution to the wind and cross over. 

You know it won’t be you. At least not now…

“Hawks…” The back of your legs hit the couch’s armrest, only aware that Hawks had led you there with every forward step. 

If he wants to (you want, too, but you keep that to yourself), Hawks could coax you on your back with his charm. But you stay resilient, pretend that your pulse isn’t racing. “That paperwork’s not gonna do itself.”

He quirks a brow, taking your chin in his gloved hand. “Neither am I.”

The double-meaning behind his words is almost enough to have you break. 

Before his lips could mesh with yours, you turn away, yawning loudly, and ruining the mood. “I should catch up with the others.”

Hawks expels a dramatic sigh. “Why do you hate me?”

You laugh. “Who said that?”

“It’s true. You’re always running off to hang with them.” His fingers trail the neckline of your uniform. “What about me? I get lonely too.”

You lift a brow. “They are in the same pay range as me. And you—” You poke a finger to his toned chest to no avail. “Have a laundry list of shit to do today.”

Hawks takes your hand, pressing it against the side of his face. “Later. Got other priorities.”

“Hawks, I’m fine.”

“You’re tense and tired.” He nuzzles into your palm, kissing your fingertips. “Let me help you relax. My sidekick needs to blow off steam and I want to help her.”

“What about your other sidekicks? They could use some of your TLC too,” you tease. 

“They’re fine,” Hawks muses, running your fingers along his lips. “Don’t tell them this.” Suddenly his voice drops to a murmur. “But you’re my favorite.”

You roll your eyes to mask the heat crawling up your neck. Of course, you knew that already, but it still made you weak-kneed to hear him say it. 

“So? What do you say?” He perks up, hopeful and charming. “Let your hero Hawks help you…”

Before you could reiterate the bad timing, a gasp rushes out of you. 

Hawks had managed to slip your middle finger into his mouth, biting down to interrupt you. “I can start with tongue,” he mumbles, sucking on your finger. 

For a moment, you’re spellbound, gawking at his plush lips wrapped around your finger. Your mind blanks, elusive to all thought. 

“Have I convinced you yet?” Hawks bites down again, sharper than before. 

You hiss, reeling your hand free so abruptly, you fall back. 

Soft leather catches your fall. You get a glimpse of the overhead lights before Hawks crawls over you, wings fanned out and a halo limns behind his head. 

“Look at that, you changed your mind after all,” he croons with a noticeable edge. Despite the ramifications, you’re relieved when bears down to kiss you. 

It’s not a soft kiss either. It’s full of vigor and desperation—

Fury.

After months and months of toeing the line between hero and sidekick, this is how your first kiss with Hawks should feel. 

Tossing caution to the wind, you match his rhythm. It’s a stroke of tongues, an exchange of desperate noise, an all-consuming hunger to devour the other. 

You break apart for air, a thin thread of saliva tethering your lips to his. “Hawks…”

“Keigo,” he growls. “As cool as Hawks sounds, I’d rather you hear you moan my name.” 

Your skin heats both at his authority and the intimate request. “Keigo…” you husk, watching his eyes darken. 

Something akin to satisfaction flashes behind his eyes. He leans in again.

As his lips ghost yours, a loud buzzing rumbles against the couch’s cushion. Seconds later, another noise joins the first.

You recognize them to be your phones, alerting you both of an emergency nearby. 

Hawks groans, sinking his face into your shoulder. “Why?”

The buzzing persists, urgent and dire, you know neither of you can wait any longer.

“Rain check,” you say, shifting under Hawks’s weight. 

He shakes his head, keeping you pinned. “Five minutes…” He slots his mouth over yours like he won’t get this chance again. 

All you hear is the rush of adrenaline in your ears until—

Knock, knock, knock. 

“Hawks!” a voice calls out from behind the office doors. “We received the emergency alert.”

Bless his new intern, Tsukuyomi. 

“Bad timing, birdman.” You manage to slip away, and Hawks begrudgingly lets you. 

He huffs, sending his feathers to gather his visor and headphones. He does a quick a onceover on his phone to assess the emergency and gets on his feet. 

“I’ll lead Tsukuyomi and the others,” you offer, heading towards the door. 

“I’ll come with you.” Hawks follows but you stop him. 

“No, you get a head start and take the window.” 

“The window?” Hawks’s brows furrow together, clueless for a second, then follows where your eyes have drifted to. He puffs out a shameless laugh, reminded of his raging erection, visible beneath his belt. “Ah…right. Should take care of this…”

Hero work can be so cruel. 

You’re equally disappointed. Finally, giving in to temptation and the world decides to burn. 

Now that you’ve had a sample, you couldn’t care less anymore about the ramifications. You and Hawks could deal with all that at a later date. 

You reach out to stroke his jaw, admiring how your touch makes his throat roll in a slow gulp. “I’m off at 7p, remember?”

His eyes are alight. “Meet me here.”

He tries to steal a kiss, but you dodge it, reminding him, “Emergency now. That couch…later.”

[leonard-cold]

[mapsthewanderer]

Caffeine, chemistry and Caleb

(The newbie POV)

Synopsis: The café was supposed to be just another coffee shop. For a law student who enjoys her morning coffee and a shy newbie still learning the ropes, it should have been nothing more than part of the daily routine… But then there’s Caleb.

Details: 1300ish words. Spring cleaning who? Another old one. People seemed to like the law student, here’s a little POV switch—non-MC!reader as the barista newbie. Expect internal struggle, hot barista Caleb, banter, and flirting. Let me know which POV you prefer in the poll! Law student POV here.

Tags: @gavin3469

The newbie | Pilot

You are late.

Not disastrously late, not fireable late, but definitely jogging through the streets with your bag slapping against your side, desperately hoping that Caleb doesn’t notice late.

And the worst part? It’s his fault.

Because waking up this morning had been a battle. Not just against your alarm—which you snoozed four times—but against the absolute war of deciding what to wear.

You never put this much effort into work. Normally, it’s whatever sweater is clean, ripped jeans, and your usual piercings (nose, tongue, ears—your little armor against feeling too soft).

But today?

Today you stood in front of the mirror for fifteen entire minutes debating if a fitted turtleneck would be too much.

In the end, you went for an oversized sweater, tucked slightly into high-waisted slacks that fit just right. Enough to look put-together, but not like you tried. Because effort is embarrassing.

And now?

Now you’re barreling through the café doors, boots squeaking violently against the freshly mopped floor.

Caleb looks up immediately.

One eyebrow lifts. “Rough morning?”

You.exe malfunctions immediately.

“Uh—” You straighten, shoving your hands into your pockets like that will somehow rewind time and erase the last three seconds. “No. Just—y’know. Traffic.”

Caleb tilts his head. “You walk here.”

You want to crawl into the espresso machine and never come out.

“…Right.”

Caleb just smirks, shaking his head like he’s already entertained. “Hurry up, then. You’re with me at the counter today.”

You.exe malfunctions again.

——————————————————————————

The morning rush destroys you.

Not because of the customers—not really. It’s because of Caleb.

Caleb, who moves too smoothly, too easily. Who leans an elbow against the counter like he owns the place, rolling up his sleeves as he waits for the next shot to pull.

At one point, he steps behind you to grab a milk pitcher, one hand lightly grazing the small of your back as he passes.

“‘Scuse me,” he says, casual. Too casual.

You.exe malfunctions for a third time.

And then, as if the universe is personally targeting you, she walks in.

You know her now.

The law student.

The golden girl.

She always looks put together, but today? Today she’s got her hair in a tight ponytail, her lipstick fresh, her whole presence practically radiating confidence.

And she sees you.

Your eyes meet across the counter.

The recognition is instant.

Her expression: Yeah. You get it now, don’t you?

Your expression: Please. Take me out of this hell.

But you both know what’s about to happen.

Because Caleb notices her immediately.

“Hey, golden girl,” he says, already reaching for a cup.

You swear she glows.

“Hey,” she says smoothly, stepping up to the counter. “Tell me something scandalous.”

Caleb lifts a brow, lips twitching. “You mean besides your order history?”

She grins. “Low blow. I’m trying to be unpredictable.”

“Right,” he says, already reaching for a cup. “Green tea. Living dangerously.”

“Mock me all you want,” she says, resting her elbows on the counter. “But I need my brain intact.”

Caleb hums, pen hovering. “Name?”

She blinks. “Seriously?”

He shrugs. “Slipped my mind.”

She narrows her eyes, amused. “We’ve done this dance.”

Caleb just grins, writes something, and spins the cup toward her.

In bold, looping script: golden girl.

She laughs, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” he says, already turning to make her drink, “you keep coming back.”

You are standing right here.

Watching this happen in real time.

It is exhausting.

It’s not that she’s bad at flirting—she’s just fearless now. Like she’s gone all-in. Unbothered. Confident. She looks Caleb dead in his devastating face like he’s just some guy, not a full-fledged, government-certified problem

And the worst part? Caleb just rolls with it.

Effortless.

Like he’s used to this. Like it doesn’t even register as flirting to him.

Caleb twirls the cup between his fingers, the soft rasp of his rings brushing against the paper sleeve filling the quiet moment. With a practiced turn, he angles the lid so the sip hole faces her, then slides it across the counter.

“Same time tomorrow, then?”

She just lifts her drink in an easy wave before heading out, looking perfectly content with her life choices.

You exhale quietly through your nose and turn back to the counter, grabbing a stack of clean cups and beginning to restock the tower, one clink at a time.

The repetition helps. It’s mindless, mechanical. Stack, rotate, stack.

You refill the espresso hopper next, pouring beans in slowly, deliberately—anything to stay busy, to not look like you’re still thinking about the name Golden Girl swirling in Sharpie on a takeaway cup.

You’re fine.

This is fine.

Totally normal coworker moment. Totally normal shift.

And then—the universe delivers one final hit.

Caleb appears beside you.

Like he materializes out of thin air.

No warning. No footsteps. Just a sudden, smug presence.

He leans his hip casually against the counter, like you summoned him with your stress.

“So,” he says, tilting his head at you, all violet eyes and soft smirk. “I feel like I didn’t get a real answer last time—how bad did the tongue piercing actually hurt?”

You.exe blue-screens.

Because no, absolutely not, we are NOT doing this again. So instead, you swallow and mumble, “It really wasn’t that bad.”

Caleb hums, eyes narrowing just slightly like he’s really thinking it through. “Huh. You probably have a high pain tolerance, then. I’ve bitten my tongue before—that’s bad enough. Can’t imagine getting a needle through it.”

You nod, barely. Already floating above your body. Already somewhere far away where this isn’t happening.

You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, a little too quickly, like your body answered before you could think.

And then—

“Got any other ‘hidden piercings?’” Caleb asks, fingers flicking the air quotes as he leans in just slightly—grinning.

Just like that.

Like it’s nothing.

Like it’s a totally normal thing to ask a coworker before 10 a.m.

Which—it is not.

It is absolutely not.

You could make a list of questions appropriate for early morning workplace conversations, and that would not be on it. What time do you clock out today? Acceptable. How bad was that last rush? Also fine. Hey, do you have anything sharp inserted through parts of your body that I can’t see? NOT FINE.

But Caleb asks it like he’s wondering if you have a dog.

He shifts his weight slightly, one hand braced against the edge of the counter. His eyes are on you. Open, curious, and way too calm.

And then—he winks.

It’s subtle. A flick of movement beneath lashes that are way too long for anyone’s safety.

You see it.

You don’t know what it is, but it’s not safe. Not for your heart. Not for your nerves. Not for your currently melting dignity.

And then—just like that—he’s done.

“Aaanyway,” Caleb says, already peeling away from the counter, heading toward the pastry case with a stretch that makes his shirt pull tight across his back. “I’m getting a muffin.”

Like he didn’t just ask you about hidden body piercings, wink, and obliterate your soul before breakfast.

He glances back over his shoulder, calm as ever. “You want one?”

You stare at him, borderline comatose.

You are hanging onto reality by a thread, and this man is just thinking about muffins.

You need to go home.

Immediately.

Except—you can’t.

Because you still have hours left on your shift.

Hours.

With Caleb.

And as if things weren’t already unbearable, he returns to the counter with a muffin in hand, casually tearing off a piece and popping it into his mouth.

You watch him chew.

Why are you watching him chew??

He wipes the corner of his mouth with the pad of his thumb and then licks it—licks it—without a second thought, and your soul immediately exits your body for the second time today.

He’s just eating.

Just existing.

Just… being hot and chewing at the same time.

——————————————————————————

Writer’s note: So y’all have gently encouraged me into doing a little spring cleaning in my drafts—bahaha. Here’s the newbie! Hope you like them. I seriously can’t pick between the newbie and the law student, which is why they’ve just been marinating in my notes forever. I couldn’t bring myself to kill any darlings. Let me know which POV you prefer before I spend the whole bank holiday happily spiraling into both. The weather’s awful anyway, so it’s peak writing time! Okey then, thank you for reading 🫶🏻

[sskk-manifesto]

Atsushi Nakajima – Bungou Stray Dogs Season 2 ( •̀ ︿ •́ )

[nonrevsims]

🌲⛲ The Hidden Springs Greenhouse x the details

Bonus picture under the cut

Love this night shot but it didn't fit the theme

[im-not-buying-it-ether]

The many hypotheses of just what the hell Captain Marvel is

Some magic god dude from either another planet or dimension, would not be their first and definitely not their last

Some sort of homunculus or created being by the Greek pantheon in a similar vein to Wonder Woman, just fully formed as an adult and not raised

Another Kryptonian off shoot species, literally just Clark thought this but has been made increasingly aware time and time again it’s not likely

Somebody’s future clone kid: An idea posed by Young Justice after Kon heard the “Superman’s magic clone” jokes and thought “but what if he is??” Main theory on clone parentage is Diana and Clark bc of both the looks and power set

Secretly just some guy, a theory banking on the fact Superman turned out to just be Clark so maybe Cap is just as anticlimactic with his real identity. Running joke of this theory is his names Joe (which is semi right since his middle name is Joseph)

[strorberrysquid]

yeah....

[merymoonbeam]

You know how every world has a kill switch and it is a blackhole(a void) and bryce used another blackhole to destroy it so....

Bryce = a Black hole aka void = destroy with another Black hole

Cauldron = has void in it and it is the kill switch of acotar = tt and gwydion can create void(a portal to nowhere)

Tt + gwydion = destroy the void in cauldron

Get rid of cauldron...would that mean we would get rid of the corruption asteri had over it...get rid of mating bond corruption.......

Or maybe we can just unmade cauldron? Tt can unmade things. It is the only bridge of connection between elain and azriel...so lets unmade cauldron lmfao.

[remarcely]

Sleeping Robin

Since his arrival at Wayne Manor, it had been remarkably difficult for Damian to feel comfortable expressing his feelings, especially when it came to something so menial as affection. Dick had been the first to wear him down, constantly encouraging hugs and sharing his feelings, but it had taken time.

As emotionally volatile as the whole family was, they knew pushing for results would only scare the boy off. It had taken months for Damian to stop standing rigidly still whenever Dick did hug him and allow himself to hold him back.

So, when Robin was visiting the Watchtower for his third time and had fallen asleep on Batman’s lap, it was understandable to say Bruce was surprised.

He’d been showing his son the security systems and, with no other chair available, had lifted Damian to sit on his knee at a distance from the rest of him, just in case Damian was uncomfortable.

However, perhaps from a weeks’ worth of restless nights or the deep timbre of Batman’s voice as he spoke, Damian had scooted closer to curl up on Bruce's chest and rested his head right over his father’s heartbeat. In less than a minute, his eyes were shut and he was fast asleep.

Bruce hadn’t noticed at first, continuing to explain the setup, and only realised his youngest was snoozing when Damian snuggled closer. He hesitantly removed his hand from the computers keyboard and brushed back his son’s hair, fondly smiling down at his sleeping face.

In moments like this, the boys constant tension faded and his expression was free from scowls and harsh lines. Like this, Bruce could pretend he'd never been exposed to the League, that the scars on his back were a false memory, and his son was okay.

Bruce shifted in his seat a little, bringing his cape up to tuck around Damian and decided to continue the rest of his camera-duty in silence.

[leonard-cold]

[smytherines]

The wild thing about SAF is that it's a comedy spy parody musical from eight years ago, but people (including me) really have the most elaborate headcanons for these characters and are so invested in them, because they're not Good Representation for Fine Upstanding LGBTQ+ Youths, it's compelling representation for weird messy queer people.

Like I don't know if I'm expressing this well, but we're only able to have this kind of weird deep conversation about the meanings behind the gay comedy spy parody musical because these aren't sanitized characters.

One of them does absolutely nothing wrong to deserve the massively horrible thing that happens to him, gets hurt by the man he loves, gets abandoned. But he also tortures and kills people. He's canonically the villain, but he's sympathetic.

The other one is kind of an asshole- cocky, careless, jealous, petty. He fucks up big time, but he's also an ADHD himbo who is lovable in ways you can't describe. He's canonically the hero, but there's very much an "Oh, sweetie" vibe to him

And SAF succeeds at having such interesting representation because while the Big Reveal is meant to be a surprise at the end of the show, they layered it in from the opening minutes of the show.

It isn't BUT THEY'RE GAY HAHA, it's relying on our understanding of the rules of the spy genre to tell a surprisingly meaningful story. Mary Kate sings it right at the beginning- it's time to get the girl again. The reveal works because it plays against what you know, what you expect from this genre, so wonderfully.

And it also isn't Here Are Two Flawless Gays Please Do You Like Them?? It isn't PR. It isn't representation for the sake of representation. Being gay is not the only thing we know about them. And because the reveal doesn't happen until the end, it's arguably not even the most important thing we know about them.

It's just two kinda fucked up guys who might have been great together, but who lived in an era and especially worked in a profession where they had little realistic prospect of making anything work in the long term.

Who probably had a lot of shit on their shoulders from having to hide who they are their entire lives, growing up in wartime, and maybe even being neurodivergent. There's so much room to use our knowledge of the real world during this time period to flesh out these characters in a way the musical just doesn't have time to do.

And once you rewatch the show with the context of the Big Gay Reveal, it actually colors in a lot of those traits and interactions in subtle and interesting ways.

And especially knowing that this came out eight years ago, and was created by a tiny little independent theatre company, it's just... thanks, Tin Can Bros. I like your messy gays

[nonrevsims]

🌲⛲ The Hidden Springs Greenhouse x the floor plan

aka the wedding venue I built back in 2023. This lot has the cutest backstory and was the perfect spot for generation 5 of my lepacy to get married at. I can't wait to share this one with y'all ... eventually.