#i HATE living in city and county

[whore-ibly-hot]

Yan!Farm-boy x Reader

'City Boys ain't worth nothin'

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Smut, NON-CON, mentions of exs, p-in-v sex, mentions of religon, mentions of conservatives, bondage, mentions of marriage, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of divorce, female and male genitalia, female reader, pet names, sub-par writing of southern accent.

(AN: Had fun with this one!)

Sitting on your porch, you sip from a cup of sweet tea provided by your lovely Aunt May, when you hear the sound of a truck approaching. A cloud of dust can be seen flying up from the dirt road as the beaten-up yellow pick up from the McCall farm rolls up the edge of your aunt's driveway. A freckle faced, redheaded boy parks the car, and hops out, his face and arms already red from having been working in the sun all day. You huff, but call out to your aunt. "Aunt May! That McCall boy's here!" You yell, a twinge of annoyance in your voice.

Ever since your parents split up, you moved from the city to live with your aunt May in this godforsaken hick town. You've always seen yourself as a city-girl, and just the thought of spending even a month on some dusty farm in the middle of nowhere made you want to gag. Despite the fact you've been here for several months now, the feeling has not gone away. Aunt May is nice, but you miss your friends, and you would rather die than go to another country-bumpkin harvest festival or Sunday service. Your predicament isn't helped by Joey McCall, the youngest son of the McCall family. From what you've gathered, the McCall's have been the largest family in this county for years. While not necessarily rich, they are well-known as salt-of-the-earth people, always willing to help. The McCall family has six kids, with the oldest four already married and starting their own families in the county. It seems that's Joey's goal too.

Everyday, even before you arrived in town, Joey was hired as a farmhand for your aunt, tending to animals and mucking the horses. He took pride in his work, and it only furthered his position as a town darling. When you arrived, despite your arrogance and clear disgust at your new life, he feels that you just need to see how great it is to live in a community like this. Joey hadn't really ever felt anything serious for the girls from town, and some would even say he didn't seem like the romantic type. This was far from the truth, as it was plain as day what he wanted when he would go doe-eyed at the preachers sermons on marriage, and god's purpose for it. He hasn't relented since he met you. Flowers, offering you baked goods, offering to do your chores, whatever you need to get him on your good side. Frankly, you can't stand him. It's not that you hate him persay, but you want nothing to do with this community of red-necks, and you would NEVER sink so low as kissing one of these country bumpkins sons.

Joey hops up the porch with a grin, adjusting the strap of his overalls as he approaches you. 'Aunt May, please hurry up and give him his chores already!' You think, trying to suppress rolling your eyes. "Mornin', stranger!" He teases. "It's a nice morning, sun's not too hot neither..." You nod, trying to simply wait out the conversation. He waits for you to speak, and when you don't, he sighs, but is happy to do the talking. "I'm glad I ran into you, I hadn't seen ya the last few times I visited. I-I sure hope you're not avoidin' me!" He laughs awkwardly, his grin faltering a little when you don't deny that this was your intention. He clears his throat, and quickly turns around, grabbing something from his back pocket. He thrusts his hand out, and a bundle of mixed flowers and weeds rests in it, still covered in dirt. You look disgusted at the half-dead bouquet.

"I don't want that." You say. His hand shakes a little, and he rubs the back of his neck with his free-hand. "Yeah, I understand. I was actually riding Maisie this morning, and by the time I saw these out in the field, she'd trampled right over em' with her hooves." He tosses the bouquet away over the porch, and it falls apart immediately upon impact with the ground. "It was stupid a' me to think ya'd like em'. Worth a shot though!" You open your mouth to retort, but before you can your aunt finally comes to the porch.

"Mornin' Ma'am!" Joey greets, and she responds sweetly, before pointing out a few things round the farm from her spot on the porch she'd like him to get done. He nods, and after grabbing the toolbox he'd always leave by the stairs, he sets off. You decide you've had enough off outside for today, and head back inside, placing your now empty glass on the counter.

Several hours go by, and as you flick through the channels on the tv, (most of which are static due to the terrible signal out here), you hear your aunt call you from the kitchen. As you enter, you can see she's finishing preparing lunch, a salad bowl to her left and a knife in her hand. Her free hands steadies some lettuce on the cutting board. "Hiya kiddo', how's your day been so far?" She asks. You don't hate your aunt, and lie to protect her feelings. "Fine. Just fine." You lean against the counter. "That poor McCall boy has been out there all mornin', hasn't even come in to ask for a glass of water." She sighs. You roll your eyes. "Be a dear and bring him this sandwich, would ya?" You want to say no more than anything, but when your aunt raises her brow and gives you that look, you quickly take the plate and scurry out to the barn.

As you approach, the sound of hammering and heavy breathing can be heard. As you enter, you see Joey trying to patch the gate on one of the horse-stalls. It seems he sent the horses out into the field, as the barn is empty save for you and him. "My aunt wanted you to have some lunch." You say coldly, placing the plate on top of a turned-over bucket which you considered to be the only place clean enough for it. Joey looks up, eyes wide in appreciation. "Well, thank ya' very much! I'll admit, I've been getting might hungry sittin' out here tryna' fix this darned gate." He huffs. He thinks it's a problem with the hinge. You let out a 'hmm', in response, and begin to leave, when Joey abruptly hops up and grabs your wrist. As soon as he sees your face change to one of disgust and shock, he recoils.

"Sorry to spook ya', I just wanted to ask you something before ya' ran of like ya' always do..." He places the hammer down, and his hands come to fidget at his side. "There's a party being held soon, outside the church. It's a picnic on the lawn sorta' thing, we have one every year. It's a real big deal." You raise an eyebrow. "I guess what I'm tryna' ask is if you'd considering going with me? I could show ya' around, help you meet some of the other townsfolk. Hell' ya' could even meet my sisters! I bet ya'd get along swell." His smile become shy, his freckle disappearing into his skin as a bright red blush covers his face. He hopes you think it's just a sunburn. You sigh, and shake your head. "I'm sorry, Joey. I don't think so..." You say. He frowns, but quickly nods. "Nah, I get it. It's kind of a big event. Maybe we could start with something smaller, maybe just the two of us? Say- I know a real nice spot north of the creek, I could take ya down there, a-and we could-" You let out a loud groan, and stomp your foot.

"No, Joey! It's not that I don't want trampled flowers, or I don't want to go to some big event with all you hick's, it's that I don't want you!" You exclaim. His face falls immediately, that light in his eyes extinguished like squashing one of the fire flies you'd see in the fields on a hot evening. "What..." He mumbles, shaking his head a little. "I don't want to date some small-town guy, okay! I don't even want to be in this town. I have a life back in the city, where I belong. Shit, I've got a BOYFRIEND!" You yell. His sadness at your rejection falls for a minute, and he seems to freeze his panicked breaths. "Ya- Ya' gotta' beau already?" He asks, his voice trembling as he swallows heavily. "A beau? What the hell does that mean, some kind of country talk? Yes, I have a boyfriend, and a very handsome one from the city at that." You sneer, turning your nose up at the boy.

"He pretty?" Joey mumbles, licking his lips as his gaze falls to the floor. You raise an eyebrow at the odd question. "Yes, he's very handsome." You respond. "S' got a lotta' money?" He asks. You nod again, not bringing yourself to be able to speak at Joeys sudden change in demeanor. When Joey does finally look up again, his face is no longer blushing red, but red with shame and embarrassment. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes. "W-well, it ain't gonna work out. I know how boys from the city are. They only want one thing from girls... that's what the preacher says." He points out the barn door. "You know Peggy, from the grocery store? She went and ran off with a boy from the city once. H-he knocked her up and left her alone, no where else to go. She came back to town, and she eventually married my brother Samuel. She always says he's the best thing that happened to her. He saved her..." Joey whimpers, his fist trembling at his side. You scoff. "Please, boys from the city have plenty to offer-" He cuts you off. "MORE THAN ME?!" He yells, a sob cracking his voice. "Have you done it with your pretty beau? Has he made you feel good?" You gasp, shocked at his vulgar question. "I don't have to tell you that..." You exclaim. "I'm not asking, I'm tellin' you to tell me." His voice is now filled with an equal tone of contempt, though you don't think it's direct at you, but rather the image of your boyfriend he's conjured up in his head. "He has. We've had sex before, he was my first." You say, swallowing nervously as you try to stand your ground.

"Then lemme ask you one more thing..." Joey huffs. "Is he gonna' marry you? Get ya' a nice house, some pretty dresses, keep ya' safe?" You shrug. "Uh, we're only twenty, we don't need to think about that." Joey shakes his head. "Cause'... Cause' that's what I'd do for ya'. Get you a nice ring, somethin' to match all your pretty dresses and clothes from the city. I'd build ya' a house right on my ma and pa's land, make sure we're still close to the family, but still give us some privacy..." He swallows harshly, taking a few steps towards you. "But most of all, I'd make sure you were safe, safe from any city boy who'd try to get off in ya' and then leave." He's now only a few inches from you. "And I intend to do that." He whispers.

You gasp as his calloused hands grab your wrists, turning you around to face the barn wall. He frees one of his hands up and moves to the stall door he was working on, bumping it open with his hips and shutting it behind the two of you. "L-Let go you brute! Get off of me!" You yell. He rips the red patterned bandanna he usually wears around his neck to keep the sun off, and quickly shoves the cloth in between your pretty, soft lips. As you try to kick, your feet only seem to bounce off the boys firm chest. "That's one thing about us farm boys, we're pretty strong. Firm, ya' know?" He whispers. He forces you to turn over, and you sit on the floor of the stall with your back to the wooden wall of the barn. Joey fumbles around, looking for something. His hand brushes across a rough rope for leading the horses mixed into the hay of the stall, and in just a few moments your hands are bound up to a horse feeder, just above your head. You whine through the gag, tears beginning to fall down your face. He shakes his head.

"Nah, c'mon now... don't cry. It's gonna be okay, I promise ya'." He whispers, brushing away one of your tears with the pad of his thumb. "Don't be scared, I'm not gonna do anything that hurts ya', I just wanna prove to you how good I can be. I realise, I can give you all the things that I said earlier, but... but I know the one thing that city boys have given you." Your eyes widen when you understand his words. He smiles softly. "I know the pastor says we should wait till' marriage, but I kinda need to convince ya' to marry me, and I know now to do that I have to prove that I can give everything some city boy can, and more." His hand comes to rest on your knee, before he uses the palm of his hand to bunch up the fabric of your pink skirt, now smudged with dirt. "Sorry about the location, didn't want anyone to see us. I-I'll buy ya' another dress after this, one even prettier, okay?" He says. Hiking up your skirt, your trembling thighs are visible to him, and the sheer lace of your panties allows him to see you without even taking them off. "Wow, I've never seen something as pretty as this..." His fingers trace the top of the lace, brushing your outer lips slightly. Despite your fear, the contact with a sensitive spot makes you whimper through the makeshift gag. "Maybe I don't wanna get ya' a new dress, maybe I want to see ya' in more of these." He laughs a little, rubbing the back of his neck.

His rough hands try to pull down the fabric around your womanhood, though your resistance makes it hard. Eventually, he groans and simply rips the lace in two, tucking it into the pocket of his overalls. "Surely, since this is damaged now, ya' won't need it." He mumbles. He toys with just the fabric in his hands for a moment, his curiosity evident, before he turns back to you. "I'm gonna get a look at ya', okay? See what exactly a pretty girl like you is workin' with." He roughly slots himself in between your knees, making closing them impossible. His large fingers part your folds, giving him a full view of your moist, aroused pussy. He bites his lip, letting out what can only be described as whimper. "G-geez, darlin'. This is definently better than them' health videos they used to show us in the schoolhouse..." He sighs. Joey's face falls for a moment, suddenly insecure.

"I guess you'll be wanting to see me now, too." He removes one hand from your inner thigh, and unclasps the shoulder straps of his overalls. "I-I'll admit, I know there's a little more to all this, but I only really know the basics, so I'm gonna show ya' what I know how to do. Rest assured though, I'm a quick learner." He stammers. His hand is shaking, and it takes several seconds for him to even undo one button on his overalls. Eventually, they fall, resting just below his wait. He lifts his button up shirt slightly, revealing a pair of briefs, and a very prominent bulge. He blushes as he looks down at it, and your eyes widen at the size. "Y'know, I've never had to deal with these before I met ya'. But, sometimes I go home and thinkin' of you is the only way to get em' to go away." His face is even redder with shame. He pulls the briefs down, allowing his cock to spring free. It's thick, and veiny. Somehow, it's freckled, much like his face. He spits into his hand, shivering as he rubs it down his length. "Sorry I don't have something better than my spit. I know it's kinda' gross, but, we are doin' it in a barn." He pulls his hips forward a little, rubbing the tip of his cock against your entrance, which against your will is now soaked with arousal. "See, I've already got you wet, I can do whatever that boyfriend back home can do for ya'." He says.

"Listen, I know ya'd said you've had sex with him, but I know it can still hurt a little. So, I promise to be real gentle with ya'." He stroke your face with his free hand, and presses his chapped lips to your forehead in a tender kiss. "I'll never get over how much softer you are than me..." He whispers. He begins to hump his manhood against your entrance, biting his lips each time he angles away from you instead of penetrating. "Huh, this is a lil' harder than I thought..." He seems upset at the idea he is under-performing. He takes his hand, and with a solid grip on his member, he pushes the tip just past your hymen, making you squeak into the gag. Before he's even fully got the tip in, his legs are shaking at the feeling. "Oh... Oh lord..." He stammers, fighting the urge to put himself in you all at once. He musters all his strength to pull out, then go back in, just a touch deeper this time. After a few thrusts, he's almost bottomed out in you. Despite your shaking head, your pleas for him to stop, muffled by the gag, soon turn to wanton moans. He places his hands against your hips, allowing him to work himself in and out of you. "God, you're so wet, a-and it's tight... God, didn't know you'd be this tight." He shakes his head though, and leans forward. "Not bad though, not a bad thing, darlin'. You feel so good around me, do I make you feel good too?" In a moment of weakness you nod, prompting him to grin widely. He's so overwhelmed in the moment, from the pleasure and happiness, that his eyes begin to swell with tears. He quickens his pace, almost sobbing now. "My pretty darlin', taking me so well. Making me feel so good, such a good girl. Not city boy could give you what ya' need, not like me..." He huffs. He angles his hips up just a bit, so his tip smacks against a spot deep inside you.

At this, you practically convulse, making him continue once he notices your reaction. "I'll make you finish, don't worry. That's what a good beau does, makes you finish..." He groans, his pace now rapid as he hammers at that spot. Both you can him feel a coil forming in your stomachs, ready to burst. "Hah, I think I'm gonna cum to, you wanna' come together?" His minds fills with thoughts as he thinks more on this while chasing his high. "I already said I-I would marry ya', build ya' a house. We could add on an extra room, for a baby." Your eyes widen in panic at the thought. "Don't worry, I wouldn't leave ya' if you got pregnant from this. That's what that city boy did to Peggy, remember?" He moans. "I'd help ya' the whole way. Build our little one a crib, get them clothes, and I'll bet you'd still be beautiful, if your worried about that." He assures you. You can feel his cock twitching inside you, as as the coil inside you bursts, you feel yourself cumming around him. He gags, inhaling a breath at the feeling. Soon, you feel him convulsing to, a warm liquid filling your caverns as he groans. "God, you're milking me, taking all my seed. So good for me... C'mon baby, just let me stay in a little more, fill ya' up." He groans. After a few seconds, he finally pulls out, and pants, wiping some sweat from his brow. He makes sure to close your legs, wanting to keep in all the seed. He chuckles a little. "Y'know, I'm sure that seed'll take pretty quick... my dad says all the McCall boys are fertile..." He pauses .

"That's why I've got so many siblings."

#reader insert #tw.dark content #tw.yandere #x reader #yandere #yandere content #yandere fanfiction #yandere oc #yandere boy #yandere farmer #tw.religion #tw.breeding #tw.noncon #oc Joey #yandere farmboy

[vanwritesfan-fiction]

Travis Kelce: “I’m not usually the jealous type.”

You slipped your heels off as you walked the rest of the way to the car, the venue where the Chiefs held their annual fundraiser behind you. Your feet ached with every step, but you still walked with a purpose, hoping to leave a gloating Travis in your dust.

"Baby, slow down!" He couldn't help but laugh as he watched you hobble to the car. "Don't say a damn word!" You threw over your shoulder, keeping pace. You cursed under your breath as you realized that Travis had your clutch in his hand which contained your car keys.

"Open the car." You edged out as Travis walked over to the driver's side. You angrily jiggled the handle to no avail. "Open the car, Kelce." The cocky grin on his face was pissing you off. "Not until you admit it."

"Admit what? That you're a shameless flirt? Okay, I have no problem admitting that." You could feel your skin start to itch. "Now open the fucking car." You pulled at the passenger side handle with more force this time.

"Uh huh huh. You know that's not what I'm talking about." Travis waived his keys in front of you, taunting you for your behavior a couple of minutes ago.

Usually you couldn't care less, but tonight, it seemed like every single woman in the county was all over Travis, and he was loving every second of it. At least that's what your ego was telling you. You really couldn't blame them. Travis was hot, for lack of a better word, and he was charismatic, his personality drew people to him effortlessly. Usually you hated being possessive over some guy, but Travis really wasn't some guy to you after dating for so long, and seeing him be the object of so many women's affection brought out the protective and jealous side of you.

He belonged to you, and tonight, some people needed a reminder.

You felt a shiver travel down your spine, the cold hitting you as the adrenaline began to wear off. You crossed your arms over your chest in an attempt to warm yourself, your teeth chattering. "You know what? I'm walking home."You weren't really going to, but you needed to prove a point, dramatically walking away. You were hoping he stopped you after a couple of steps. There was no way you were making it home from downtown Kansas City.

"Baby, please. Stop being stubborn", Travis called after you, making you turn on your heels. He shrugged his suit jacket off, draping it over your shoulders. "Let's go home. I don't want that poor girl you yelled at to see you like this. She's gonna think you're jealous and crazy."

"I'm not crazy!" Your breath hitched as you realized he had tricked you into confessing. "Oh, fuck you." You narrowed your eyes at Travis. You let out a sharp breath. "Ugh! She was all over you, like she doesn't know that we're together. I'm not usually the jealous type, but she just brought it out of me. You're mine!" You punctuated your words with a stab to your chest. The whole time Travis couldn't help but smile at you, at it was pissing you off.

"What?" You gritted out between clenched teeth.

"You really love me, don't you?" His singsong tone made you want to vomit. "What? No I don't." You were always such a bad liar.

"You do!" Travis hit the roof of the car with glee. "I think its kinda sexy when you're jealous." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

You slid into your seat, Travis getting behind the wheel. "Oh really? Because I'm pretty sure I saw one of your buddies staring at me tonight."

"Which one? I'll bench them." Travis' fist tightened so quickly, you were sure his fingernails were leaving marks in his palm. "Wait, are you jealous?" God, it felt so good to get some revenge, even if it was short lived.

"What? No." You could see him start to blush. He turned the hey in the ignition, the engine of his Porsche roaring in the parking garage.

"Oh, you really love me, don't you?" You leaned over, grabbing at his jaw, scratching his beard with your nails like you knew he loved. Travis leaned in, his lips inches from yours. "No doubt about that, baby."

#travis kelce #traviskelce #travis kelce x reader #travis kelce fanfic #travis kelce fanfiction #travis kelce imagine #nfl imagine #nfl fanfic #nfl fanfiction

[endcant]

save a bastion for queer culture in a famously hateful city

i’ll try to write a shorter and sweeter post about this later, but for now i will just beg at length.

there is a town near me called Murfreesboro where at various points they have banned or attempted to ban public homosexuality, drag, and pride flags. for a time their county’s youth incarceration rate was 48% (contrasted with the rest of the state at 5%) due to corruption in their local courts system. every juvenile case that made it to the wrong judge resulted in the child being sent to jail, because the county commissioner thought it’d be “cool” if the jail was a “profit center” (yes these are his actual words). these are just a few examples but suffice it to say, this is a very difficult place to grow up, especially for LGBT kids.

despite all of this difficulty, the area has a remarkable alternative music scene with a few small venues where queer people and young people who don’t fit in elsewhere can genuinely have fun and feel safe for the night. despite the city’s reputation, queer people in the broader area flock to the town for raves and DIY shows. in this area, music culture is intertwined with queer culture and leftist efforts to a much greater degree than i’m used to as somebody from the middle of california.

i really admire the venues and event organizers that cultivate a safe spaces like this in a place where it is decidedly unsafe for queer people, and where the youth are constantly in danger of having their lives ruined for totally arbitrary reasons.

this is why it breaks my heart that murfreesboro is trying to shut down a venue called The Graveyard Gallery. the graveyard gallery is a place where a ton of events are constantly held for lgbt, furry, and alternative communities. it is one of very few alternative places in the broader nashville area where i have felt really, truly safe and welcome as a person of color.

most recently, The Graveyard Gallery has come under attack for attempting to hold a Trans Day of Visibility punk show, with the apt title “Trans Day of Vengeance”. Conservative media, both local and national, directed the attention of their audiences towards this event, calling it “tone deaf” to have it on easter, and to have it sort-of-kind-of-close-to-but-not-quite-on the anniversary of the shooting in nashville. All of this, of course, ignoring that the date for TDoV was set in 2009, and that this was a small DIY punk show that really bore no threat to anybody. the show had to be canceled because of credible death threats, so it didn’t even happen, but that hasn’t appeased anybody.

in the wake of this, murfreesboro’s fire marshal has suddenly decided that the building is not acceptable for occupancy and it has to close immediately and for the forseeable future. people can claim it’s unrelated, but i’ve known people to have their businesses suddenly declined by fire marshals due to sheer bigotry before, and shitty towns will just use their fire marshal to bankrupt small business owners that they don’t like. i do not speak for the owners of the gallery on this front, but i personally believe that these things are related.

all this is to say, the graveyard gallery needs to raise money for their legal fees over this matter. this venue is very important to a lot of people, and may be even more important now that the city’s music scene is in the crosshairs of massive conservative media companies.

if you can donate please do, and if you can share this, please do that as well.

thank you for taking the time to read my post. i know there’s a lot going on in the world, but music venues are where people here gather, and music venues are often also a place where people organize to make meaningful change and promote causes that i know most of you would approve of. music is at the heart of this community, and the venues are where the music lives.

#mine

[silent-stories]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 - 𝟏

Pairing: Eddie x F!Reader

Summary: After moving to Hawkings for a fresh start, you meet a boy with kind, brown eyes who will quickly become a friend and maybe something more. The only problem is: you took something that belongs to him by accident and now you don't know what to do.

A/N: Yes, there will be more parts. No, i don't know when. I hope this start doesn't suck.

You kind of hated how you had thought moving there was a good idea. Of course, your aunt had told you that she would welcome you with open arms if you ever decided to go and live with her but she had never told you that the people there seemed to look all the same and that everyone would have stared at you in a weird way, being the only crazy person who moved there after years of no new arrivals.

Hawkins was a small midwestern town located in Roane County in the state of Indiana and it wasn't hard to tell that it wasn't a very busy or interesting place even though you were driving down the main street for the first time, heading towards the house where you were supposed to live for quite some time, if everything would have gone as it should and your aunt hadn't decided to get rid of you after a few days, like you had basically done with your parents.

You looked first on the left and then the right side of the road, while the music was still playing loudly in the vehicle, trying to figure out which way you were supposed to go, then you remembered that you had a map of the city somewhere in your pickup.

You glanced at the back seats, where there were several suitcases and a few bags full of things that you would probably never need and which were just taking up a lot of space in your car already always full of various junk.

You noticed a lamp peeking out from a bag and wondered for the second time that morning what the hell was going on in your mind.

"C'mon, where are you?" You talked to yourself, searching through the sea of ​​objects scattered on the dashboard: a concert ticket, some polaroids containing memories of a life you were leaving behind (which had fallen from the ceiling of the car where you kept at least fifty of them fixed with tacks), a horror book by an unknown writer (the school library had crossed it out because it was considered inappropriate for kids), a shoe whose match had been lost while you were packing your bags, a half-empty green spray can and no trace of the city map.

The car behind you honked: you had not moved for at least two minutes.

"I'm trying to figure out where I need to go! I'm sorry!" You shouted through the rolled down window before the car passed you and a man gave you the middle finger.

"Rude." You commented, sighing and thinking about what to do.

Did continuing to wander around the city until you found the right path make sense?

You were about to restart the pickup when you saw a boy who couldn't have been older than fourteen and a taller, blond boy wearing a green and white jacket talking to each other as they walked along the sidewalk.

You grabbed your leather jacket and got out of the car, hoping no one would complain about the inappropriate place you were leaving it. Your driving teacher was probably right when she told you you sucked at parking.

"I'll be right back Casper." You said to the thing in the passenger seat. Nobody responded.

You reached the two boys just as the blond guy took the hat off the younger one, laughing.

You didn't immediately understand what was happening.

"Sorry, do you know where I can find-"

"Hey! Give it back!" The younger one tried to grab the hat while the other laughed, raising his arm straight up so he couldn't reach it.

"Give what back?" The blond laughed.

You cleared your throat. The two turned to you suddenly.

"What do you want?" The older one asked in an annoyed tone, looking you up and down.

"I wanted to know where Piney Wood Lane was but now I don't wanna talk with you anymore. Give the hat back."

He snorted as if I had come to ruin the party. "You can never have fun with you weirdos around."

You caught it before it landed in a puddle as the blonde dropped it to the ground.

He pointed to the kid saying something like "I'm not fucking done with you" before walking away.

"What a nice guy!" You yelled after him as he turned the corner.

"As always." The younger commented.

"Is everyone like this around here? I just moved but people like him make me want to go back to where I came from." You handed the hat back to him with a half smile.

You hated people like that guy, you had never understood how anyone could take pleasure in making someone else suffer.

"Not all. Most but not all, some of my friends are really cool. Thanks for that." He put the hat back on his head, covering his short curls, on his face a grateful expression even if you didn't do much.

You found yourself wondering what these "cool friends" of his were like.

"Good to know." You sighed ironically.

“I'm Dustin, by the way.” Dustin smiled at you.

You said your name and shook his hand, you thought that you had known that kid for about five minutes and you would already do anything to protect him.

Dustin looked at the car parked behind you. “Your car is so cool!” He commented in amazement, pointing with his finger at the drawings standing out against the black background, on the side of it.

"Thanks, it's a mess but it represents me, I think."

“Wait, what is that thing sitting in the passenger seat?”

"Oh, that's Casper!"

"It's a-"

"A skeleton, yes. My biology teacher let me borrow it from his class."

Dustin looked at you questioningly.

"Okay, I stole it. But he's a great travel companion, and never complains about the music I choose."

Dustin laughed. "I swear, you would love my friends."

"And I really would like to get to know them but now, could you help me find Piney Wood Lane? I lost the map in the middle of all the shit in my car."

"Sure I can, I know that street!" The boy nodded, hoping that you could become one of his "cool friends".

That afternoon, what had become your room was already full of stuff scattered around and suitcases that you didn't feel like unpacking everywhere. The posters you would soon hang were on the desk but you had decided to leave Casper in the car for a while longer. You had put most of your clothes in the closet and packed a bag full of spray cans with the intention of going out and finding a nice wall to do your first mural in the new town.

That time you didn't have any of your friends to make sure the cops didn't come but you figured that for your first few days there, you could manage on your own.

You grabbed a book in case you found a quiet place to read: you felt safer when you went out taking a book with you, even if you weren't sure you'd find a place or time to read.

“Are you going to explore the town?” Your aunt asked with a smile as you came out of your room with your bag over your shoulder.

You couldn't help but be grateful to her, she had said she would treat you like a daughter and give you a room of your own and that was exactly what she had done. You hadn't seen her in years and you didn't know each other very well but for the moment you seemed to get along well and your relationship seemed more peaceful than the one you'd had with many people in your old hometown.

Maybe this was really a new beginning for you.

"Yeah, something like that." You tried to sound convincing.

"Okay, don't get in trouble on your first day here."

You smiled.

"Oh, I would never do that."

You jumped off the trash can you were standing on, in the alley you had chosen for your mural.

You turned the spray can in your paint-stained hands, observing the work on the wall in front of you: you liked dragons in fantasy stories, you thought it might be nice to experiment with something like that.

"Yeah, you don’t look that bad." You said to the creature painted on the wall, before noticing that the sun was starting to set and it was probably time to go home.

You put the spray cans back in your bag and threw the empty ones into the bins you climbed onto.

Then, you heard a noise.

"Please don't be a cop." You muttered to yourself, placing your bag over your shoulder and walking out of the alley.

The footsteps got closer.

"Please don't be a cop." You repeated, keeping your gaze down as you rounded the corner, hoping to escape, that way, from whoever was coming in your direction.

Of course, luck wasn't on your side, as always: you collided with the person who was coming in your direction and if they hadn't grabbed you by the arm you would have surely ended up on the ground like the rest of your stuff.

Your book, your bag, and several spray cans scattered across the ground, some rolling away from you.

"Shit." You said through your teeth, looking up to look into the eyes of the person you had collided with.

A gentle and slightly worried gaze met yours, his chocolate brown eyes watching you as if to make sure you were okay. His expression was completely different from the way the boy who was bothering Dustin had looked at you that morning.

His messy, curly hair was brown like his eyes and his slight smile was reassuring.

"Are you good?" He asked, letting go of your arm after making sure you wouldn't fall.

"Oh, thank god you're not a cop!"

“And neither are you, good for both of us.” He chuckled before helping you pick up what you had dropped. You did the same, so quickly that you didn't even realize you had put something in the bag that didn't belong to you.

"I'm fine." You grabbed the spray can he was holding out to you, your fingers grazed his, adorned with chunky silver rings, and the action made you feel a weird sensation that you couldn't identify and that only lasted a few seconds in your stomach, “thank you.”

"It's a pleasure. It's always nice to help pretty girls break the law." He chuckled.

"I wasn't breaking any laws." You rolled your eyes, aware that you both knew you were lying, almost without realizing that he had called you pretty.

"Then why did you hope I wasn't a cop?"

"Maybe I just think they're not nice."

"Well, believe me, I've been arrested several times and I can guarantee you that most of them aren't."

You raised your eyebrows. "You've been arrested several times? What the hell did you do?"

"You really don't wanna know."

“Okay mystery man,” You rolled your eyes, the boy laughed at the nickname and you immediately liked the sound of it, then you held out your hand, introducing yourself.

He shook it and you felt that feeling in your stomach again but decided to ignore it, “Eddie.”

"Okay Eddie, are you good at giving an unbiased opinion on a mural done in an alley while standing on garbage bins?" You asked and without even waiting for an answer you started pushing him towards the dragon on the wall.

Usually you didn't need random strangers' opinions on your street art but this time you felt like you wanted to spend more time with that metal singer looking guy with the sweetest eyes you'd ever seen. And also, he wasn't a stranger anymore, he was Eddie.

“Oh sure, I was born for that.” He stated confidently.

Your laughter echoed down the alley as you reached the mural.

"There we go. Now you are an accessory to the crime."

"Well, in reality.... I didn't do anything. I'm just an innocent witness."

"You have paint on your hands."

"I don't-" He looked at his palms and realized you had stained one of his hands with green paint when you held it. "Oh, fuck you."

You laughed. "So? What do you think?"

“I think it's worthy of being on the cover of a metal album, it's amazing, really.”

"Well, thanks. For now it will stay on the wall of a dark alley."

"Really, that's so fucking cool. You should do this as a job or something like that."

"Well, I'm still in high school and I'm looking for someone who needs a babysitter to earn some money so... not yet, I guess."

"Well then I guess we'll meet there."

“Are you still in high school?”

Eddie sighed, as if expecting a joke on that.

"Hey, we don't judge people here. What do you expect from a girl who's spending her Sunday afternoon with a stranger chatting in front of some garbage cans?"

"I expect her to be cool as hell. And well-" He paused, as if thinking about it carefully, "I think she is."

You couldn't help but laugh again.

When you got home you still had a stupid smile on your face. You liked Eddie, you liked the way he made you feel like you didn't have to pretend to be someone else around him, you liked the way he called you "pretty" five more times that afternoon, you liked the way his eyes lit up when he talked about music, you liked the way he kindly asked you if he could walk you home since the sky was getting dark and he didn't want anything bad to happen to you, you liked the sound of his laughter and the way he tried to hide the blush on his cheeks when you told him that your opinion on Hawkings had become better after you met him.

"Why are you smiling like that?" Your aunt asked you when you entered the house.

"I met a boy."

She smirked.

"Don't look at me with that face, I just met him. He was just being nice."

"Mh-mh sure." She laughed as you rolled your eyes and walked into your room, leaving your bag on the bed.

When you unzipped it, something inside caught your attention: a small, brown leather-covered notebook you'd never seen before.

Your first thought was how the hell did he end up in there, then you remembered your clash with Eddie a few hours earlier. Was it possible that you had taken it without realizing it?

You got under the covers with the notebook in your hands. It was small but the pages were so many and so thin that someone could have started writing in it years before and still not filled it all.

You knew you shouldn't have done it, it might have contained private things, but you couldn't resist.

You opened it.

As soon as you did, a black and white photo of a girl with dark hair and a sun dress fell off the first page.

She was smiling and she was really pretty, you wondered who she could be. In the background you could see a garden and the sun shining in the sky.

It was wrinkled as if someone had held it in their hands for a long time.

Then, you read the first lines of the first page of the notebook. The writing was messy but legible, some words had been crossed out and rewritten probably due to some grammatical error or unclear thoughts.

"I realized that I almost don't remember her anymore and that's the thing that scares me the most. I don't want to forget her."

You couldn't help but wonder how you could feel the pain in those words simply by reading them in an old, crumpled notebook.

Tags: @jacklesbrainworms @morning-sky7 @pipsqueakkitten @navs-bhat @michaelfuckinglangdon @flawiette @needylilgal022 @bubsonnobx @yujyujj @findmeincorneliastreet @kennedy-brooke @witchwolflea

#eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x alt!reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie fanfiction #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst

[wheresmymilliondollarman]

Hiii! I've discovered your account recently and you can definitely count me as one of your fans! Also I've never saw someone write for book bfs before so that's cool of you to do it ! I really don't know if you take requests but if u don't it's ok! but if you do can I have an Kenjix reader where she's a trained spy with no powers and Aaron send her on a mission with Kenji where she hates him at first but then she gets to know him and fall for him ? (Maybe w/o spoilers for books after ignite me)

how you get the girl

kenji kishimoto x fem!reader

you were never fond of the newest recruit, but after being assigned on a mission with him, your perspective might just change.

a/n: ty for the request!! been wanting to write for kenji, but struggled with a concept, so this is a great idea !! this is more an au thing, not based on a certain timeline in the series, so it should be spoiler free !! there also a hunger games reference in this bc i can't help myself. extra note: thank you for being so patient i had to go on n unexpected hiatus because i got sick then a bunch of stuff in my life is happening right now, so it was hard to write. but i have finally have time again somewhat and i want to get inspo to write <3

word count: 6.8k

warnings: really bad corny pick-up lines, kinda bad description of action LOL, mentions of injuries and blood, take a shot every time reader rolls her eyes

your home lied within the reestablishment for as long as you could remember. your father had stood behind the idea since it first became conceived. 

before the reestablishment came along, your family lived in the trenches of poverty. living in a one-bedroom apartment in the unsafest part of the city. most lived the same since the world was slowly deteriorating — counties went hungry, climate change affected natural resources, and the grasp of government control slipped away. it seemed like the end of the world for some, but you were too young to say for sure. 

your mother came down with an illness when you were around three. it was unsure of what it was, but it damaged her greatly and fatally. your father attempted to gather the money to see a doctor, pawning items, stealing money, and even asking the government for assistance, but it all became futile. your mother ended up passing a few months later. 

your father’s grief and rage at society drove him toward the direction of the reestablishment. they had already been around quite some time, but no one ever took it seriously - another political group with empty promises, they called it. but your father had faith in their potential, he had to, now that he wanted to ensure a better future for yourself. so, he offered his undying loyalty to the group, and they took an interest in that and offered him a low level job. 

within years, he worked his way up in power, helped enhance the reestablishment’s control over the world, and soon they were the sole government. many resisted, but the majority resided their fate to them because how much worse could the world get? 

overtime, the distant memories of the old world faded and were forgotten by many, including yourself. all you knew and lived was reestablishment life. books, movies, devices, or anything pertaining to before reestablishment life was discarded. you were too young to even remember most of those things. so, unlike others, you never felt like you missed out on anything. 

you were trained to be a soldier since practically diapers. the rebellion against the reestablishment was prominent during its early years, so your father ensured you could defend yourself properly if the worse were to come. with your agility and stealth, you were recruited to be a spy for them, infiltrating other bases and spying on the rebellion. 

your father now works closely with supreme commander anderson at the capital, but you’ve designated yourself to sector 45, along with warner. he recognized your talent the moment he met you and employed you to his sector. that was how it became your current home. 

your father was more than thrilled you impressed the commander’s son, telling you it was important to have their favor. ever since, he’d push the idea of you two, repeating that if you played your cards right, you could become the future supreme commander’s wife. 

you felt nauseous at the idea. you would never want to be a second in command helping run a country, much less marry the person who does. 

“hey! warner’s calling you into his office.” a voice called out to you. 

you snapped out of your daydream, remembering your current location. you stood in the training room, gloves on, practicing your punches onto one of the many punching bags. you tended to zone as as you got more into your workout. 

you turned around to face the soldier who had come in for the purpose of recalling a message, “thank you, tell him i will be there immediately.”  he gave a curt nod and headed out. 

you sighed, you were sure you were about to be sent on another mission to gather data. and normally, you would’ve been up for it, dying to put your skills to use. but lately, it seems the passion has disappeared. it was getting too repetitive for your liking, and you feared the rest of your life would play out the same.  

you gathered your belongings, stuffing your water bottle and gloves back into your gym bag, and replaced your sweaty black shirt with a plain gray one. 

you procrastinated as much as possible on the way to warner’s office. you are in no rush to head back out into the field or hear warners endless instructions on the mission. for once, you envied the low ranked soldiers. warner never expected much of them, so they were often overlooked and free to do as (possibly) pleased. you were expected to be no less than perfect. 

you took a deep breath before knocking on the office door. once warner granted permission, you entered the room, and the first thing you noticed was another person was already there — one you recognized to be one of warner's many men, kenji kishimoto.  

‘this is already off to a bad start,’ you told yourself. kenji was fairly new to the unit, joining a bit over a year ago. you never saw him much because of how busy you are, but due to his poor performance, warner had assigned you to train him for a week. 

it hadn’t been your first time training a soldier, so you were prepared to follow a routine and help him get the hang of basics. but you quickly learned kenji was going to be a pain in your ass.  

first, he was half an hour late to your training, wasting time you could’ve used for your own personal agenda. then, when he showed up, he acted nonchalantly about it. you decided to brush it off and just get the training over with than argue and waste more time. but as training commenced, he started acting condescending towards you. asking if you were sure what you were doing and whether you were the most qualified person to be instructing him. again, you ignored him and remained professional — trying your best to just finish off the lesson without any hassle.

the final straw for you came when you asked him to throw a punch to examine his form and offer critiques. to this responded, “are you sure about that? wouldn’t want to hurt you, sweetheart.” he said haughtily. you just about had it by then. 

in a quick movement, you threw a punch to his face, twisted his arm, and flipped him onto the mats. “sorry, did i hurt you sweetheart?” you asked in a condescendingly sweet tone. all kenji does is groan in response. 

after, you just stormed off and informed warner he would no longer be in charge of his training. you offered him no explanation and simply walked out of his office. if you hadn’t been so upset, you would’ve slapped yourself for being so careless in front of the commander's son. but fortunate to you, warner had no objections and simply tasked someone else to teach kenji.

however, that wasn’t even the end of your meeting. despite you bruising his face, kenji started to follow you like a puppy. you suddenly would run into him at least once a day. you swore he had to be somehow following you, and pretending it was a coincidence the two of you ran into each other. despite your expertise in the art of spying, you were never able to catch him in the act. you could sometimes feel a pair of eyes on you, but when you turned around, there was no one there. 

you told him many times to leave you alone, but that only seemed to intrigue him more. he went from condescending to flirting with you. you weren’t sure which one was worse. you were starting to think the latter because of his awful pickup lines.  

“do you have a name, or can i just call you mine?”

“oh god, i’m gonna throw up.”

“i’m going for a walk, would you mind holding my hand?”

“if you get your hand near me, it’s getting cut off.”

“i love it when you talk dirty to me.”

“do you travel through time? because i’ve pictured you in my future.”

“you’re not going to have a future, if you utter another word.”

“let me be the flynn rider to your rapunzel.”

“one, shut up. two, who are they?”

“what! you don’t know the amazing film that is tangled?”

“never mind, forget, i asked..”

no matter your reply, he never seems to get the hint. no, scratch that, he definitely got the hint he just simply did not care. this guy could be hit with a tank, and you were convinced he’d still have some stupid line to say to you. 

back to your current predicament, you were unsure why warner would call for kenji as well. you were hoping they were just finishing up a conversation, and you happened to be a bit early. which you kinda doubted because you had taken as long as you possibly could to get to this room.

you walked up to warner’s desk, “you called for me sir?” you questioned. the sooner you got your task, the sooner you can get away from the man next to you. 

kenji turns his attention toward you, unfortunately for you, “hey gorgeous, funny seeing you around here.” he says with a stupid smirk accompanying. 

“not really.” you spoke bluntly. 

before he can speak any more, dumb words, warner clears his throat indicating he is about to speak. “yes i did, and as you can see, i also called kishimoto here because I wanted to speak to the both of you.” 

oh no. you weren’t liking where this was going so far, especially since this is an issue needing both of your presence in the room. you prayed he wasn’t about to assign you to train with kenji again. you lucked out last time, but there is no way you would be able to again decline in a way that wouldn’t defy warner. you remained stoic and nod to his words, waiting in suspense for his instructions.  

“oh please go on, i’m intrigued.” kenji inquires. warner pays no mind him, nice to see you’re not the only one who does that. 

“the reason for that is, i am in need of both of you for a mission in favor of the reestablishment.” he explains, folding his hands together neatly on his wooden desk.  

technically, your prayer was granted; you didn’t need to train kenji. no, instead you had to go & work with him on a mission. ‘that’s why they say be careful what you wish for.’

you couldn’t protest and say absolutely not, or you just look like a child throwing a tantrum. it took a good portion of your self-control to keep that apathetic look on your face. but even then, your left eye reflexively twitched in irritation. 

“no disrespect to your order sir, but why is kishimoto needed? i can handle myself quite well if you didn’t already know.” you try to reason. 

“are you that nervous to be with me?” kenji interrupts smugly. you can’t help but stomp on his foot, even if it is a bit childish, your face neutral, not even sparring a look his way. 

kenji yelps in pain, but still remarks, “nice to see your love language has switched from verbal threats to physical violence.” 

warner, unbothered by your actions, replies, “i’m well aware of your capabilities l/n. but this task is a bit more dire than your usual requests. i’d prefer if you had a helping hand. plus, kishimoto still needs practice in the field and there’s no better example to follow than you.”

“thank you sir, for the compliment, but-“ 

“is that an objection to an order, l/n?” warner challenged you, raising a brow. you knew that was the end of it. as much as you didn’t like kenji, it wasn’t an issue worth being on warner’s bad side for. 

“no,” you stated defensively, “of course not, sir, i am ready to serve the reestablishment as needed,” you restate your loyalty, but these days it felt like empty words. 

“i, for one, have no issue with this request sir. i’m more than willingly to go along with y/n on this secret mission.” kenji proclaims with a gleeful smile. 

“great, because the both of you will be departing tomorrow morning.” warner informed, leaning back into his seat. “that will be all,” he dismissed with a wave of a hand. 

kenji and you both respectively nodded and turned your backs to walk away and exit his office. once you’re in the hall, your cool demeanor vanquishes and is replaced with a distasteful look. you simply couldn’t believe this was happening. you got partnered with the guy who you heard already had 19 demerits. surely, the world was punishing you.

opposite to you, kenji stood there with a sneaky smile, obviously enjoying how today’s events played out. it only annoyed you further. 

“well, well, well,” he begins, “i guess we’ll be spending quite a bit of time with each other. you never know how long these missions take perhaps will be stuck teach with each other for a whole month. wouldn’t that just be exciting?” kenji teases, draping an arm over your tense shoulders. 

you rolled your eyes and roughly pushed his arm off of you, “this operation is solely for professional purposes, kishimoto. we’ll be in and out then come back and relay information. then i go back to ignoring you.” you don’t bother to wait for a reply and start the walk to your living, quarters to prepare for your departure.

“i’ll grow on you eventually y/n!” he hollers at you as you venture further down the hall. 

-

you dreaded the events to come the moment you opened your eyes to woke up.

a part of you had hoped your talk with warner yesterday had been a nightmare, but as soon as you saw your packed bag on your dresser, you knew it was your reality. 

you hopped in the shower for a quick wash, braided your hair, and suited up in all black attire. you slip your bag over your shoulder and reluctantly walk out your room. from there, you made your way to the weaponry.

at the weaponry, you didn’t see kenji’s face; you had hope there was still a possibility he would not end up going along with you, and he would either be replaced, or you be left to your own devices. you started supplying weapons into your bags and filling the holsters strapped on your body. 

“can’t believe you already started without me, angel.” you hear a voice announce from behind you. 

you groaned, apparently, it was too much to ask to wish him away. he reminded you of a small insect that just refused to die no matter how many times you stepped on it with your foot. 

he doesn’t miss a beat, moving to the spot next to you, “don’t sound too excited, or else i’d start to think you like me,” kenji playfully remarks. 

you scoff, “only in your wildest dreams.”

“right you are.” you grimace at his reply. 

“can you just hurry up? the sooner we set off the better.” you urge him. 

he doesn’t deter from his smugness at your fierce attitude, “if you were so eager to be alone with me, you should’ve just told me, would’ve saved us a lot of trouble.” 

you groaned, already sick of being around him. how were you supposed to do this for a day, or even more? “you have five minutes or swear to god i’m leaving without you.” you promised on your way out. 

-

you made good of your word, and waited by the plane for approximately five minutes (you even counted down the seconds in your head). warner assigned a plane for the both of you, with its own pilot, to take you to your destination. 

you wait until the last second before you board the small plane to inform the pilot to prepare for take off. not even a minute later, you hear the movement of footsteps rushing towards the vehicle. you try to conceal your look of disappointment when you see it, kenji coming toward you.

you step down the plane to coldly greet him, “you’re lucky you made it, i was prepared to about to leave without you,” you tell kenji seriously. “i suppose i can always just push you off the plane one we take off to rid of you,” you nonchalantly suggest. 

he just laughs in response, thinking there’s no way you would actually take off without him, his laughter silences down when you offer no humor in your tone, nor your face. “you are just kidding right?”

you remain silent, and turn your back to board the plane. 

“..right?” he calls at you, a hint of worry in his tone. the corner of your lip tugs up in amusement as you walk off.

-

“wow, this spy stuff is quite boring.” kenji complains aloud. “how are you ever entertained doing this on your own? thank goodness you have me around now. perhaps we can even be some sort of duo, we can even have a cool name - the terrific two? nah. the dangerous duo? eh. oh wait, i’ve got it! mr. and mrs. smith-“

“will you shut up!” you turn your head away to snap at him. you were ready to lose your mind with his absurd commentary for the past hour.

the two of you stationed yourselves on top of a tall building’s rooftop hiding from plain view & your target’s sight. your current target was a supreme commander of another country, one that had indirectly expressed his indifference toward warner, but remained loyal to reestablishment principles. warner believes it’s possible he may have a hidden agenda concerning the reestablishment, and just to be sure, he tasked you to report his activity. 

your mission wasn’t anything complicated, the majority of it consisted of keeping vigilant watch and reporting anything of utter importance. the two of you used your binoculars to spy on the commander and his men from above. but you understood why warner had wanted someone to accompany you. there were almost 3 times as many men than what you were used to on your operations. but you weren’t going to admit this to the person next to you.

kenji nods, “you’re right we should skip the mindless comments and instead get to know each other. after all, i’d be real awkward if i didn’t even know fun facts about my future girlfriend,” he makes a hand gesture toward you at the end of his words.  

“first off, never going to be your girlfriend. second, this isn’t a date; we’re on a stakeout collecting information.” you reiterate. 

“come on,” kenji complains, “these guys have done nothing for the past 2 hours. the only criminal thing that is worth mentioning is that the commander does not pull off purple .” 

you scoffed, annoyed, but you couldn’t say he was completely lying. it has been kind of a slow night. the commander stood by his post, watching the soldiers pack shipments meant for other countries & sectors, including sector 45. whenever the supreme commander would leave, either kenji or you would tail him, but it was also a dead end. he either needed to use the bathroom or go to his office to retrieve something. a part of you was starting to wonder why warner would think of this man as suspicious when he seemed as bland as the color beige. it was quite offensive to your spy expertise to be sent on such a mundane mission.

you sigh in defeat, “fine,” you turn to face kenji, “if it gets you to shut up. what do you wanna know?”

kenji places his hand over his chest, making a face of disbelief. “wow, i’ve finally done it, i’ve cracked you. it’s only a matter of time now before you actually start enjoying my presence like most of the female population.” 

“i’m this close to pushing you off the ledge right now.” you exclaim, pinching your index and thumb very close as a demonstration. 

“well, if we’re gonna be working together,” 

he starts, ignoring your threat, “we’ve got to learn more about eachother - you know ,like the deep stuff.” 

“the deep stuff?” you repeat suspiciously. 

“yeah, like, what’s your favorite color?” 

you turn away dramatically, “well, now you’ve just crossed the line,” you say in a light tone. 

he shakes his head, “seriously, what’s your favorite color?”

“hm,” you ponder on it for a second before answering, “i like yellow.” 

“yellow?” he repeats, unsure of whether to believe you. “you’re telling me, the spy who is always seen in all black’s favorite color is yellow?” he speaks as if the concept is foreign to him.

you roll your eyes for the millionth time tonight, “i wear all black because i’m working, not by personal choice. my wardrobe is actually full of colorful choices.” you admit. 

kenji smirks, “so, what color are you wearing underne-“

“anyway,” your speak over him, cutting him off. “what’s your favorite color?” you ask to change focus. 

“purple. and not like the purple that supreme commander looks horrendous in,” you hold back a smile at the insult, “more like the shade of purple rapunzel’s dress is.”

you tilt your head, “who’s rapunzel, is she a friend of yours?” 

his eyes narrow at you, “a friend of min- she’s only one of the greatest heroines in the disney film history!” he exclaims. 

“what about your knee?”

“you can’t be serious-“

that was when you heard it, voices speaking in rushed and commanding tones, getting louder and louder to the point you were able to make out the words without your listening equipment. you recognized one of them - the supreme commander.

“shoot them!” he shouted at the soldiers. 

you’d been spotted. and now they were going to start firing. 

“kenji get down!” 

“what-“

you didn’t wait for him to understand and instinctively jumped onto kenji’s body to bring him down to the ground and avoid him from getting shot.

due to your heroic act, you were unfortunately caught by a bullet and shot in your left arm. you’ve been shot before, but it didn’t suck any less. luckily, the adrenaline coursing through you helped subdue the pain for now, but you know it’s only a matter of time before you were withering in discomfort. 

“shit!” kenji cursed in reaction to the many gunshots shooting at you both. you both are currently protected by the small four feet ledge from the building you were grounded on.

“how did they even spot us?“ kenji hollers so you could him him over the flux of bullets. 

“i don’t know, but there’s no time for explanations. this ledge won’t protect us for long we have to find a way out of here without being noticed.“ 

you had a lurking suspicion the commander was given a heads-up on the arrival of two spies. however, it wasn’t a time to investigate that. 

 kenji began to move from beneath you so he could somewhat sit himself up, still avoiding being hit. his movement caused you to unintentionally hiss in pain when he rubbed against your injured arm; that is when kenji took notice of your wound. 

he gently grabbed it for further inspection, blood oozing from the hole of the bullet plunged into your arm. returns his gaze to you. his eyes showing worry, “you’re injured. why didn’t you say anything?” he questions you gently. 

he then swiftly untucked his long sleeve shirt for machines and ripped a piece of it from the bottom. then he began to wrap it around your injury and tie it to give it pressure to lessen the bleeding. 

“didn’t think there was time, you know, with hundreds of bullets coming our way.”

kenji rolls his eyes. you speak up again before he has a chance to counter, “ok, we seriously need to focus on our plan of action right now. we are way too outnumbered to strike back.” 

kenjis nods and looks down in concentration of convincing a plan, and you do the same. you both could maneuver your way down towards the way you came in, but no doubt the commander's men have already begun to circle around the entire establishment. you both could sprint quick enough and jump onto the neighboring building, but it would require some climbing. and with your current left arm in bad shape, could be almost impossible for you to climb a building with one arm, no matter the skill acquired in your training. 

do you have to make a decision quick, so you went with the most logical one. “kenji,” you call his attention, and he looks up from his spot, “i have a plan. but..you’re going to have to go without me.” 

kenji’s face shifted from concern to confusion.  “i don’t understand..” 

you briefly explained the small plan you concocted, “with my with my injury , it’s clear i can’t do it. so, it’s better that you go on and-“

kenji doesn’t let you finish. “no. no. that’s not an option.” he protests. 

“you have t-“

his hand is covering your mouth in a second, “it’s out of the question. don’t go saying that stupid shit again, got it?“ he sternly tells you, looking you in the eye intensely. 

you’ve never had someone be so adamant about leaving you behind. if it had been anyone else with you, they would’ve up and left the moment you suggested it. a warm feeling tingled in your stomach at the thought to kenji caring about you so much. 

you’re quite stunned at his assertiveness, so you nod quietly - which is highly out of character for you.

once he knows you understand, he removes his hand from your face, sighing as he does so. “i have a way for us to get out of here unnoticed and safely,” kenji admits. you pique up, intrigued by how he has a better solution, and motion for him to continue. “but you’re really going to have to trust me for this to work, ok?” he says more like a statement than a question.

“ok.” you agree. 

while you may not have known kenji too long or even liked him much before tonight, he wasn’t incompetent, mostly, you had enough faith in him to believe he wouldn’t intentionally put you both in harm's way. 

kenji takes a deep breath in, and you can tell to ease his nerves. it bubbles up your curiosity more. it must be something quite grand for him to be nervous to do. but then again, it had to be something quite out of the box if it weren’t a plan you could’ve conceived.

“i’m going to grab your hand, and then i’m gonna need you to do your best to not freak out.” kenji instructs carefully to you. 

now you were getting anxious; what could possibly make you freak out? generally weren’t the type to scare easily, and you’re sure kenji knew this. but you truly had no other option unless you wanted to be stranded here. the sound of gunfire served over to reminder of your limited time. 

you nod in confirmation and hold out your right hand in permission for him to grab. kenji takes a second before he latches his hand into yours. 

for a moment, you’re confused. nothing seems to be happening. part of you thought he was going to continue with your plan, but forcibly drag you along with him. you turn your attention toward the other side to check if you were supposed to see something. but again, saw nothing of significance. 

you begin to scowl, “kenji is this a joke-“

but when you turn to see kenji, no one is there. right away, you assume he left you and did everything prior as some twisted joke. you were ready to get angry, but then you felt the pressure on your palm. you were still holding his hand. 

you looked around again and saw no sign of kenji besides his hand in yours. your confusion was deepening at this point, and you were beginning to think you passed out after being shot and were currently dreaming. you looked down at your interlocked hands, but you didn’t see your hands either. your eyes then moved over to your own body, but again - nothing.

you gasp, “what the hell?”

you instantly panic, not understanding what is happening. you move your body in the hope it would make it visible again, but failed. you try to free your hand from kenji’s, but he firmly keeps it gripped. 

“hey, it’s alright, i’m here. calm down.” you hear kenji finally speak from next to you. you feel his thumb rub over the top of your hand in an attempt to soothe you. 

you ignore him and attempt to make a list of possible nonsense that would explain the situation. “are we dead?” 

“no! just invisible.” he states calmly as if the whole situation were normal. he stands up, forcing you to do the same. he begins to build up a run toward the side of the building. you can’t see either of your bodies, so you do your best to keep up without tripping. 

“invisible?” you repeat, “how are we invisible?” it sounded ridiculous saying it aloud, but it was the only “reasonable” explanation for what was happening. 

“uh, let’s just say i have a certain skill set.” he says in a rushed tone. you couldn’t tell if it was because he wanted to avoid answering or focus on the task at hand. maybe both. 

“that doesn’t explain anything!” you say, waving your other arm around, although you both are unable to see it. 

now having reached the side of the building you entered from, you see the ladder that led you both up. kenji wastes no time on stepping down first. you can’t see his movement but can feel yourself being tugged and the sound of his boots hitting the metal. 

you follow, continuing to hold his hand as he leads you both down the ladder of the building. “as you mentioned over and over before, there’s no time for explanations. you just focus on getting down this ladder.” 

you did as he said (for once) and continued stepping down, with one hand on the rail, in silence. for once in your life, you were speechless.

you both successfully evaded the commander and his soldiers. the invisibility had proven to be true because you walked past them like it was nothing, as they still shot to where they assumed the two of you were still positioned. 

there were no words exchanged on the way back to the plane. kenji took the initiative to inform the pilot of your coordinates, so the two of you could be picked up. you felt foolish for being so unprofessional, but you finally evading the danger, your state of shock was brought back. 

when the plane finally landed down, kenji had finally returned both of your visible states and then released your hand. you could feel the sweat on it from holding on so long, but you were still reeling in from events to notice or care.

both of you moved to board the plane. 

if you hadn’t faced some blood loss and felt incredible fatigue, you would’ve hounded kenji for answers on your way back to sector 47. but as soon as you sat down on a seat, you were out like a light. 

-

the next time you open your eyes, all you could see was white. the ceiling lights temporarily blinded you, making it hard to see your surroundings at first. 

you groaned from disorientation and the blinding light. you turn to the sense of touch and understand you are lying on a bed. your vision settled, and you were able to vaguely recognize your surrounding. the long windows, medical supplies, other white-sheeted beds neighboring, faint smell of disinfectant — you were in the medical wing in sector 45.

you knew it was the infirmary from your sector because of the large indentation on the wall from a mishap of yours a few years prior, one of the few times you actually went to a trained nurse instead of mending to yourself. long story short, the nurses really should have de-weaponized you before attempting to wake you up after you’d passed out. 

now knowing you were in a dangerous environment, you slowly began to sit up. you used one hand to stable yourself since the other was put into a cast. the aching you were trying to put off the whole mission came in full force. 

you looked down at your attire; your first layers of clothes covered in grime and blood were removed. now you were only left in your black shorts and tank top. 

not even a moment later, you hear the sounding of the your door opening. 

“well finally you’re awake!” a voice says, “thought i’d need to wake you up with true love’s kiss.” 

kenji walks up to your bedside, his sly smile never faltering until he takes a glance at your injured arm. 

he peers down at your face. he takes a hand and moves a strand of hair behind your ear. your stomach warms at the feeling of his faint touch on the side of your face.  

“i thought i’d lost you for a second there, sleeping beauty.” kenji says in a gentle tone. 

another reference of his you didn’t understand, but you chose to focus on his other words instead.

you tilt your sore neck, which you regret,  in confusion, “what do you mean?”

“you were asleep the whole flight, and when we landed, i tried to wake you, but you wouldn’t stir. i knew something was wrong. my assumption was proven correct because when i examined your arm, your blood loss was almost severe. after that, i just rushed to get here.” kenji explains, his tone a bit somber. you fight the urge to hold his hold and comfort him, then chide yourself for thinking so something so intimate involving kenji. 

guess you probably should’ve checked your arm when you boarded the plane. somehow, your bloody arm had gone from the first to the last thing on your mind during the operation. 

“and now your facing my dashingly handsome face.” he cockily adds in. 

there it is. you don’t even snarkily counter back. for once, you just smile in response. you give in to your urges and grab onto his hand, giving it a soft squeeze, “thank you kenji. seriously, i know we started on the wrong foot, but i’m very grateful to you.” you say sincerely. 

kenji squeezes your hand in return, “to be fair, you’re the one who’s made your distaste toward me very clear while all i did was confess my undying love to you.” he corrects with a pout. he places a hand over his heart in fake pain. 

your mouth gapes, “what? you’re the one who not only showed up late, but acted like a total douche the first time we met.” 

kenji laughs at this sheepishly, “yeah, about that..” he goes to rubs his hand on the side of his neck. 

“what?” you question. “don’t leave me hanging.”

kenji laughs, “that first meeting, i wasn’t actually late.” he starts. 

you shake your head, “yes you were. i waited there for almost half an hour.” 

“i was there fifteen minutes early, waiting by the door. but then i saw you walk past me, not even sparing a glance, and go into the training room.” kenji confesses. 

“then why were you so late?” you interrupt impatiently. you don’t remember seeing him there at all, and if he had been there, why didn’t he just go in straight after you instead of wasting your time. 

“i’m getting there, angel.” kenji taps his index finger on the tip of your nose. you swat his hand and wait for him to go on. 

“after you went in, i was stunned. truly. you were the most gorgeous being i’d ever seen, and you walked around like you didn’t even know it.” 

you smack his arm at his dramatic flattery, “shut up, quit playing around and get to the point.” 

“am i one to lie?” he asks rhetorically. 

you give him a look. “alright, maybe, but it doesn’t make what i said any less true. you are beautiful, and anyone who hasn’t told you that is an idiot.” 

you scoff, turning your head away from kenji. you rather him not see the rising redness on your cheeks. 

luckily kenji continues without comment, “anyway, after i got a hold of myself, i thought, ‘how was a guy supposed to walk in and face this goddess of a person supposed to be his trainer.’ he can’t, so he does the classic guy move, ‘act indifferent to make yourself seem cooler in front of a girl.”

“so you acted like an asshole….on purpose….because you wanted to be cool in front of me?” you repeat slowly, making sure you understood his stupid plan. 

“ok, i get it; it's not my best moment. trust me when i say i realized my mistake as soon as you started kicking my ass like it was nothing. but it actually made me like you more and even turned me on a bit-“

“ok, i think i got it!” you weren’t one to be so easily flushed, but it was hard not to when he was so blunt about affection toward you. even if it was vulgar. 

“after that horrible first meeting, i had to get you to like me.” kenji explains, “so i did my best to use my attractiveness and charming persona to seduce you. but, damn, you wouldn’t even bat an eye at my attempts. that only made me wanna do it more.” 

you cross your arms over your chest, “so what, you like me because i’m pretty and a challenge for you?” you ask with an aloof tone.

“maybe at the start, but now, everything about you has me captivated. your strength and resilience. the way people undermine you, but you don’t let it stop you from proving them wrong. how to most, you’re uptight and cold, but you actually care more than you’d want to admit. i admire that you want to be the best, but not for warner, for yourself.” your eyes begin to soften at kenji as he describes you so passionately. you didn’t realize observant of you he was. 

kenji continues, “hell, even your stubbornness. though, you break my heart a little every time you reject one of my very well thought out pick up lin-“

you don’t wait to hear anymore. abruptly, you sit up and yank him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him down to your eye level. you’re moving automatically as if in a trance, and your sturdy hand reaches the right side of his face. “shut up.” you say in a rushed whisper. 

then you kiss him. you actually, willingly, lean in and collide your lips with kenji kishimoto. you like it very much too. and there is no better feeling than the way his lips on yours make your heart race and body buzz with warmth and exhilaration. 

everything happened so quick, kenji was frozen in his spot for a good moment - his eyes so wide they could’ve popped out. then, he smoothly regained composure. his face relaxed, now having a giddy grin into the kiss,  and slid a hand to the back of your neck, under your hair, to hold you closer. 

even though the kiss was a heat-of-the-moment decision, the kiss itself wasn’t heated nor rushed. no, it was almost the exact opposite. your lips were tenderly pressed together, heads titled opposite directions so you fit together in sync. 

you move your touch to his covered chest, gripping his plain fitted shirt for dear life, a way to remind yourself that this was all very real. 

you’re the first to pull away; part of you already longing for his touch as you did. you felt dizzy, not in a loss of blood way, but in a weightless feeling way. you couldn’t stop the silly smile etched on your face, nor the flushed look that was likely written all over your face. you couldn’t even find yourself caring about it. 

kenji’s appearance isn’t much different from yours, but his smile is crooked and screams more of satisfaction and a bit of cockiness. “told you i’d eventually win you over.” 

you chuckle and lightly punch kenji’s bicep, shaking your head, “tell anyone, and i’ll deny it.” you threaten in jest. 

you tap your lips with your index finger and look up in mock contemplation, “hm. maybe if you explain how you turned us invisible back there i’ll think about a date.” you remind him. you were still owed a great explanation. 

kenji grins, “is that all it takes? well, then, i’ve got a hell of a story for you.” 

special thank you to @butterflyreads for being so patient and liking my works, hope you enjoy this one <3

#kenji kishimoto #kenji kishimoto x reader #kenji kishimoto x female reader #kenji kishimoto imagine #shatter me #shatter me fanfic #aaron warner #juliette ferrars #x female reader #reader imagine #reader insert

[vague-humanoid]

Eugene mayoral candidate Douglas Barr, a FOOD for Lane County driver, has lived in the community for decades. 

A resident of the Bethel district, Barr, 59, has been involved in various community organizations.  In 2020, he ran for city council in Ward 7, where he lost to incumbent Claire Syrett. 

Barr is also a convicted felon, he shared with the Daily Emerald. Upon further review, the Emerald found that in 1984 at age 19, Barr was involved in a self-described hate crime — referred to as “gay bashing” by the prosecution. Barr and three other men were charged of the beating and murder of John O'Connell, 41, a man who they believed to be bisexual.

Barr’s three co-conspirators were convicted of second-degree murder in the case; however, Barr was found not guilty in the murder, court records show.

Barr and his friends assaulted three other men in the same evening in San Francisco, a night prosecutors in the case referred to as a night of “homophobic rage.” Barr pled guilty to assault charges in the other beatings. He was sentenced to seven years in a California prison for his role in the attacks, but ultimately did not serve the full sentence. 

After his release, Barr married his wife of 34 years, and said he has “educated” himself, though he did not elaborate on his education.

Barr said he has since “strived to be better,” citing that he has become an active member of the Eugene community. Until 2020, he was an executive board member for his neighborhood association, Active Bethel Community, and recently joined the board of directors at Burrito Brigade, a food pantry for the unhoused.    

“We have to give people a second chance, especially if they're trying to do good. We have to reach back and include them. If they have ideas, we need to know that we need to participate,” Barr said. “[Despite their pasts] we want to uplift them anyway.”

He hopes to convince voters that reform is possible ahead of the upcoming election, but acknowledged that many Eugene residents may be hesitant to vote for him. 

“Being mayor a lot of people want to frown upon [me] because I was a felon. [But] do we want to frown? Do we want to stop people who come out of prison, [from] helping our community?” Barr said. “I have a lot of good thoughts about how to cure the homeless. Should I just be on the sidelines and not step up?”

"felon" this man wasn't arrested for having weed, he hate-crime gang murdered

#homophobic violence cw #hate-crime #murder #homophobia #biphobia

[batboyblog]

"My Name is Harvey Milk and I'm Here To Recruit You!"

If you don't know Harvey Milk was the first openly gay man elected to public office, to the San Francisco Board of Supervisors in 1977. To this day Harvey remains the most famous queer person elected to office maybe in the world. His short and tumultuous time in office was dominated by the fight for gay rights. In the late 1970s there was a huge backlash against the rise of gay rights spearheaded by a group called "Save Our Children". Across the country they organized elections to revoke local gay rights ordinances in Miami, Saint Paul, Wichita and Eugene in the summer and fall of 1977. In 1978 a California state Senator John Briggs brought forward a citizens referendum, Proposition 6, which would ban gay people and supporters of gay rights from being teachers any where in the state of California. The last year of Harvey's life was consumed with the struggle against Briggs who he debated across the state. In the end the Briggs Initiative was defeated 58-41% with Harvey's home of San Francisco turning out over 70% against. The national anti-gay fever broke and "Save Our Children" never recovered.

Harvey opened every speech he ever gave with "My name is Harvey Milk, and I'm here to recruit you" In the 1970s rather than accusing gay people of "grooming" children (an idea that didn't exist then) they were accused of "recruiting" them. "Recruiting our children to the homosexual lifestyle". So Harvey used it as a joke but also a battle cry

Today it feels like every day there's more bad news. Across the country state legislatures are trying to ban trans health care for minors and even adults. Local school boards are banning books about LGBT people (and others). States are trying to ban drag. violence and the threat of violence are trying to stop companies from doing Pride and attacking Queer events. The internet is flooded with "groomer" attacks on our humanity. There are days it does feel like the 1970s all over again.

BUT! we won then, and there are many lessons we can take from Harvey and his struggle and use to win the fight against the current wave of hate plunging American in darkness. Harvey's been gone a very long time so... My name is Max and I'm here to recruit you, here are some things I want everyone to do.

VOTE BITCH!

Are you an American citizen 18 years of age or older? Are you registered to vote? if the answer is no, register to fucking vote bitch, here check out what you need. If you want registered, click the link any ways and double check. If you're 16 or 17 years old good news more than half the states in America allow you to "preregister" so you're all signed up and become a registered vote right on your 18th birthday. Whats more ask every vaguely left of center person in your life, everyone who supports LGBT rights, if they're registered to vote and if any one says "no" bug the shit out of them till that changes.

But more than just registering to vote you have to go and vote, yes every election. Right now across America conservative queerphobes are using local elections that get little to no attention and are often very low turn out to take over and push wildly extreme and hateful agendas. Local school boards across America are banning books that have LGBT characters or themes. They pushing policies that refuse students the right to their correct names and pronouns. They want to require schools to out students to their parents against their wishes. Check Vote411 or ballotpedia to find what elections are happening around you.

Candidates on a local level, school board, town/city council, county government, even up to state Rep and state Senate candidates are almost always very responsive to questions. Email everyone running and ask them where they stand, you will get answers I PROMISE you will get answers. Its the easiest thing to do and everyone who has the right to vote in this country should do it, vote in every election.

"But I live in a super blue area my vote doesn't matter" SHUT UP! SHUT UP! even if every local election is Democratic it can be more progressive, ask local candidates what they're gonna do to push LGBT rights forward. Will your local school board push teaching LGBT history? respect trans students pronouns? will your local library board host a drag queen story hour and put together programs for pride? ask! push them! let local candidates know!

"but I live in a super red area my vote doesn't count" BULLSHIT! where ever you are there's a local election that can swing to the non-shitty side if people show up, you can be the difference in a school board election. No matter what stand up and be counted.

Come Out Come Out Wherever You Are.

Since the earliest days of the movement in the 1950s and 1960s before Stonewall, through Harvey Milk's time in the 1970s through to right now, the most powerful tool we have is to come out. It is easy to hate the homosexual, the transgender as an abstraction, as a stereotype as an unrefuted lie. It is so much harder to hate a brother, a sister, a son, a daughter, a friend, a neighbor, your lawyer, your doctor, the mailman, your 8th grade English teacher. In 1978 Harvey said:

"Unless you have dialogue, unless you open the walls of dialogue, you can never reach to change people's opinion. In those two weeks, more good and bad, but more about the word homosexual and gay was written than probably in the history of mankind. Once you have dialogue starting, you know you can break down prejudice. In 1977 we saw a dialogue start."

Thats what they're scared of, thats why they're freaking out in Target, why they're trying to shut down Drag Queen story hours and take away the books. Ignorance and hate lives in darkness and dies in the light. In 1978 gay men and lesbians went door to door in California and introduced themselves to strangers to explain the harm Briggs would do to them. They vote for us 3 to 1 if they know they know one of us.

It shouldn't be like this, it should be when you're ready when you have all the words, but they're coming for us all so come out come out wherever you are. If you know your parents will love you but you've been holding off because it's scary or stressful, nows the moment. If you're a grown ass adult who lives on your own and don't need mom and dad's money to pay your rent, tell them, no matter how much it hurts, call them on the phone, write them a letter if you have to. Does your family know but they asked you not to tell grandma, grandma, great-aunt Marge because they're old or whatever, or your aunt and uncle who are born again Christians. Listen if they still vote they could be hurting you and if they really love you they shouldn't want to do that, tell them! tell them who you really are, and it might be the work of years to bring that person around, but you never know till you try it.

Are there family members you have who know and love you but you know they're conservative and still vote Republican and you've been avoiding talking to them about it because it's awkward? Stop avoiding it, explain it to them, explain that it's not "just politics" explain to your loved ones that they ARE hurting you. If they don't hear it the first time, don't stop, if they love you they shouldn't hurt you.

Come Out at Work, Come out at your bowling league, come out to that friend of a friend you see sometimes, wear a pin, rainbow shoes, a shirt in public, tell your co-workers, your clients, your Church, your Synagogue. Wear that rainbow pin, that pronoun t-shirt, put a sticker on your car, your bag, your phone. If it's safe for you to be out in a space, claim it, COME OUT WHEREVER YOU ARE.

COMING OUT AS TRANS OR NON-BINARY

COMING OUT AS LESBIAN, GAY, OR BISEXUAL

Go To Pride This Year.

Conservatives are trying harder than any time in my lifetime to shut down Pride. Florida and Tennessee have passed laws that will limit pride events. Terrorists are threatening and attacking brands that are doing Pride themed events and products. These events and products go back at least 20 years but the violence of attacks against them is really new. So the only answer is to GO TO PRIDE. I don't care if crowds are not your thing, I don't care if its 97 degrees out the day your city does it, I don't care if your local pride is small and embarrassing, I don't care you might see that one ex, I DON'T CARE. If you physically can go to a pride event this June DO IT. If you're scared to be seen, wear a mask, go in drag, put make or body pant over your tattoos whatever you need to do. If we want to have Pride again next year in many areas this year needs to be a show of force. If you've never been and you never go again this is the year, do it, go, find the Pride event closest to you and do it.

Get Involved Whore!

So far I've offered you pretty easy asks for things you can do, voting, coming out, going to Pride. Now comes the harder ones, get involved. In 1978 gay men and lesbians knocked on doors and told voters across the state of California how an anti-gay measure would affect them personally. If they had the nerve less than 10 years after Stonewall to go to strangers houses and come out to them, I believe you can do it too. Get out there, knock doors, make phone calls, mail postcards, wave signs. Talk to Voters from anywhere, find your local Democratic Party, check out LGBT Democrats in your state, check out groups like the HRC and PFLAG

if you've got money give to HRC, give to GLAD, Give to The National Center for Lesbian Rights all 3 of whom have been the tip of the spear fighting the insane anti-LGBT laws coming out of the states.

If you don't have money, check out The Victory Fund thats supports LGBT candidates and find one close to you and sign up to help. Can't find anyone? try Run for Something that supports young progressives. If you live in a Blue area of a blue state, you can check the Sister District Project which links up volunteers with swingy districts across the country. Swing Left does much the same on a more federal level

crazy right wing extremists can count on organized support from Churches and far right groups. You, yes you, talking to you Glenn! HAVE TO be the support network, the volunteer base for LGBT candidates and their allies and supporters. You have to HAVE to get out there, give if you have money, knock on doors, call, text, write letters go to a protest, sit at a booth, register people to vote, hand out literature, WHATEVER whatever. You can do it, please give at least one weekend over the next two years to a political campaign, be it a local school board candidate, town council, working for the Democrats or volunteering through the HRC or a progressive group, the people who want to destroy you are out working to win elections, you have to be too.

Fucking Run, why not?

This is the last thing, the hardest thing and the thing I don't expect everyone to do. Run, yes really, run for office, yes you, yes I mean it. If the crazed insane conservative who thinks Hillary Clinton drinks child blood out of kids like a juice box is qualified for School Board to ban all the books with queer people or black folks, you are MORE than qualified. I don't care if you're a high school drop out with face tats, you're more qualified than these people, so do it, if you've ever thought of it, do it. Frustratingly dozens of dozens of offices across this country are filled every day but uncontested elections only one person signed up, hell that person can be you why not? Look into it Last year 41% of the seats in the Florida Legislature went uncontested, 37% of the seats in Texas, 53% in Tennessee, 58% in South Carolina. It's not for everyone, but if you've ever wanted to, ever thought about it, take this as your sign, do it. Do you have a friend who's so smart, cool, involved and just better than you in every way and you think they should run the world? Nominate them, give them a push to run

I think Harvey put the importance of electing queer people better than I ever could so

Somewhere in Des Moines or San Antonio, there’s a young gay person who all of a sudden realizes that she or he is gay. Knows that if the parents find out, they’ll be tossed out of the house. The classmates will taunt the child and the Anita Bryants and John Briggs’ are doing their bit on TV, and that child had several options. Staying in a closet, suicide, and then one day that child might open a paper, and it says “Homosexual elected in San Francisco,” and there are two new options. An option is to go to California or stay in San Antonio and fight. Two days after I was elected, I got a phone call, and the voice was quite young. It was from Altoona, Pennsylvania, and the person said, “Thanks.” And you’ve got to elect gay people so that that young child and the thousands upon thousands like that child know that there’s hope for a better world. There’s hope for a better tomorrow. Without hope, not only gays, but those Blacks, and the Asians, and disabled, and seniors. The us’s. The us’s without hope, the us’s give up. I know that you cannot live on hope alone, but without it, life is not worth living. And you, and you, and you have got to give them hope. Thank you very much.

If you read all this thanks, I can't make anyone do anything of course, but whatever you choose to do, I'll be out there knocking doors. I wish I did not live in such dark times but as Gandalf The Gray said "So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.” 

Finally to all my Queer brothers, sisters, and siblings, even though I do not know you, and even though I may never meet you, laugh with you, cry with you, or kiss you. I love you. With all my heart, I love you.

#Pride #Pride Month #lgbt pride #Queer #LGBT #Gay #Trans #Harvey Milk #Voting #protest #coming out #lgbt community #Hope

[brown-eyedblues]

Long Lost Friends. Part 1

Billy the Kid x fem reader

A/N: Hey friends! This is the first time I’m writing for Billy! Actually, this is my first time writing in ages… I would really love to get back into it. This is going to be part one in this little universe, hopefully. I want to continue the current story, and also elaborate on y/n and Billy’s time as best friends back in Santa Fe. I just wanted to write a little intro to this story first. Please let me know what ya’ll think of this piece and give me some ideas for what else to write about next!

Warnings: None, really. Some kissing, some fluff. Light editing done.

Billy had arrived at Lincoln county, riding up to the gang’s camp earlier in the day. The hot sun was starting to set as Billy stood by the small fire, occasionally kicking loose twigs on the ground into the flames. His thoughts jolted to a stop when Jesse came up behind him, clapping him hard on the shoulder. They both ignored the cloud of dust and dirt that floated from the point of impact- Billy’s clothes desperately needed to be washed after riding on horseback from Chihuahua to Lincoln.

“Some of us are rollin’ out shortly to head to town, if you would like to join us.” Jesse said, taking a swig from a rusting flask.

“I don’t know, Jesse. I might just turn in early tonight, the ride from Chihuahua was a long one.” Billy sighed, twisting where he stood while his spine popped, as if punctuating what he had just said.

“That’s up to you, man, but I think you should come with us. There is someone at that saloon that I think you will want to see.” Jesse said, before shrugging his shoulders and shuffling over to the men that were already mounting their horses.

Billy’s interest was peaked, as much as he hated to admit it. He kicked over a pail of water that sat next to the fire, effectively snuffing it out. He jogged over to his horse, throwing one leg over its back and adjusting himself onto the saddle. Jesse tossed him a smirk before snapping his reins and kicking his horse into motion. Billy followed suit and shortly the group of men was cresting one of the green rolling hills on the outskirts of town. When the town came into view the group slowed down, and Jesse fell back until his horse was trotting alongside Billy’s.

“Jesse, who is at the saloon you want me to see so damn bad that it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?” Billy asked.

“You remember y/n? Back in Santa Fe?” Jesse asked, shooting Billy another knowing smirk. Of course Billy remembered y/n. She had been his best friend throughout the years he lived in Santa Fe. The last time he had seen her was a little over three years ago when his step-father had packed them up and moved them to Silver City. He thought of her often; wondering where she ended up, and if she was healthy and doing well. He frequently wondered if she had happened across his wanted posters, and recognized his likeness in the prints. “Looks like her family moved to Lincoln about a year after you left. Her parents have a farm just north of town. She works some nights at the saloon for some extra money,” Jesse continued. “And let me tell you something, Kid. She ain’t nothing like I remember her bein’. She sure has a fire in her.” He chuckled to himself, shaking his head.

Billy let the conversation fade after that. As the gang neared the town and the sound of laughter and music drifted through the hoof-worn dirt roads, Billy’s thoughts were racing. The last time he had seen y/n, she was standing on the bottom step of his home in Santa Fe, next to a horse drawn wagon that was packed with all of his family’s belongings. Tears streaked down her face as they said their final goodbyes. Standing on the step put her at eye level with him, and she sniffled softly as he looked down and kicked at that dirt at his feet. Without warning she had thrown her arms around his neck and kissed him hard on the lips, as if trying to meld herself to him. He held her against him for a moment, before easing her to a standing position in front of him. Without another word he had turned and hopped onto the back of the wagon, smacking the side of to tell his step-father he was ready. Billy had watched the girl he loved fade into the distance as the horses brought them further and further from Santa Fe.

At that point they had been sixteen, and y/n was just beginning to show signs of becoming a woman. Billy had been suppressing growing feelings for her, afraid that if he admitted to them, she wouldn’t reciprocate. Instead, he spent the hot days lounging in the sun with her, splashing in the local water hole, and running around the city together. Y/n often sat with him at poker tables, watching the game play out and chewing her nails- she never opted to play, claiming that the other players would be able to read her too easily. When Billy won (which only happened once in a blue moon), he would save half of his winnings for his family, and spend the other half at the local bookstore. He would spend his evenings sitting on the roof of y/n’s house. She would lay with her head in his lap, gazing at the stars and playing absentmindedly with Billy’s free hand, while he read softly to her. Billy often thinks that that is the last time he was truly happy.

Billy’s memories were interrupted when his horse halted suddenly. He looked around, and noticed the group had stopped outside of the saloon. The men dismounted and made for the door eagerly. Billy trailed behind, adjusting the hat on his head, tipping it so his eyes were hidden by shadows. He pushed through the swinging door, finding a wooden beam to lean against. His eyes swung slowly through the saloon, scanning faces as quickly as possible. He watched as Jesse strode up to a woman whose back was turned to him. She was wearing what appeared to be riding pants and a cream colored blouse, and a black apron tied around her waist. Billy held his breath as Jesse slapped both of his hands on the table she was currently wiping down. He leaned in towards her, a predatory smile on his face.

“Darlin’, I am about to make your night!” Jesse announced loudly, effectively quieting the room. Y/n propped her small fists on her hips, turning to Jesse with an exasperated look.

“Jess, the only way you could possibly make my night would be if you marched your cowboy ass out of this saloon and never came back.” Y/n sneered, causing the men gathering around to let out low whistles and laugh at her remark. Billy could see what Jesse was talking about when he mentioned y/n’s fire. He was a wellknown gang leader and gunslinger, not to mention he stood about eight inches taller than her, yet she stood with a straight back, and didn’t back down.

“What did I tell you Billy? See what I mean?” Jesse asked, turning his gaze to the outlaw who still leaned casually against the beam a few strides away. Y/n froze and the saloon was so quiet Billy could hear her sharp intake of breath.

After several heartbeats, y/n turned slowly, eyes scanning every person in the saloon. When her eyes settled on the man leaning against the beam near the front door, they lingered. The man wore a ragged hat, the brim of it shadowing most of his face. Her eyes trailed down to the gun belt that hung loosely around his hips. As her gaze rose again, the man lifted his arm, slowly removing the hat on his head and resting it against his chest. His sky blue eyes peered back at her. She wasn’t really sure how long they stood like that, silently watching each other. But when his lips pulled back to reveal a familiar smile, y/n felt her feet carrying her forward before she could even comprehend what she was doing.

Without a word, y/n quickly moved towards Billy. Choking back a sob, she leapt at him, throwing her harms around his neck. He caught her easily, dropping his hat to the floor. He guided her thighs to wrap around his waist, the same way he had the last time he saw her. After a few moments, she loosened her grasp around his neck, just enough to look into his eyes. This time, Billy was the one who leaned forward, his lips crashing into hers with a desperation that caused both of their cheeks to heat. Y/n was the first to pull away, but only after the hooting and hollering around them began to chisel through the bliss she felt. Billy carefully lowered her back down to the floor, his hands still caged around her waist.

“Billy Antrim, what are you doing here?” Y/n whispered, so only he could hear. It had been a long time since Billy had heard that name. He loved the sound of it on her tongue.

“Well, I came to Lincoln to help Jesse and the boys with a job,” He started, looking over her shoulder and scanning the saloon. “Would you like to take a walk with me?” He asked softly, swooping to pick up his hat and stepped away from y/n to swing the saloon door open, gesturing for her to walk through it to the cooling night ear.

Untying the apron and draping it on a hook by the door, y/n drifted past Billy, her hand coming up to ghost over his flushed cheek as she did so. He smiled to himself as he followed after her, letting the door slam behind him. He offered her his arm as they strolled down the road slowly, walking in such a way that their hips brushed each others gently. Billy looked down at y/n, and when she looked up at him, the soft moonlight reflecting in her gentle eyes, he vowed to himself he would never leave her again.

#billy the kid x reader #billy the kid #billy bonney x reader #Long Lost Friends #LLR #Autumn tries to write for Billy

[omgthatdress]

Felicity’s birthday dress was one that I didn’t have, because my BFF Karen had it and would bring it over, but man, adult me sure loves the birthday dress. A while ago I saw a post long the lines of “Assuming you’d already donated to all your kickstarters, gofundmes, and patreons, if you were suddenly super rich, what’s the first totally ridiculous thing you would buy?” My answer is the entire American Girl historical collection. ALL OF IT. Yes I live in a very small house that barely has enough storage for all the crap I already own, but if I’m suddenly super-rich, I can just buy a bigger house.

Felicity’s pinner apron was a popular style for young girls. The original is printed, and while it’s not out of the question that a fine apron like that would have been made from printed fabric, it most likely would have been embroidered.

(Los Angeles County Museum of Art)

While its well known that Felicity hated sewing, a lovely apron would be something that she could have made for herself. Being a skilled embroiderer was a desired trait for women because she’d then be able to beautifully adorn her home and her family’s clothes.

If you’re like me and thinking that Felicity’s instrument is a lute and not a guitar, you’re wrong! Turns out there’s a weird technical music difference between lutes and guitars. Felicity’s instrument is nowadays called an English guitar, but back in the 1770s, it would have been referred to as just a guitar. The 8-shaped guitar we’re familiar with today is the Spanish guitar, and it became more popular in the 1800s. Back in the day, if you wanted to hear the latest popular music, you had to go to the symphony. If you didn’t live in a city large and rich enough for a symphony, you played the music yourself in your home.

(The Met Museum)

#1700s #Felicity #American Girl

[munsonsreputation]

I THINK THERE'S BEEN A GLITCH

CHAPTER TWO - MY PART OF TOWN ON A WEEKEND

↢ chapter one | series masterlist | chapter three ↣

steve harrington x fem!baker + artist

word count: [15.7K]

warnings: no use of y/n, breaking and entering (not in a bad way lol), talks mentions of self deprecation, steve opening up about his parents, cursing, mutual pining.

summary: Roane County soon becomes a place that Steve finds himself attracted to, especially for that one special person. Meanwhile you find it hard to believe that Steve and your new friends actually make the effort to show up for you in more ways than one--even if tonight it's just you and Steve. There's a newness yet comfort between the both of you that has been brewing since your first meeting, it's just a matter of when and where things will start to pick up...in his car, in your living room, or in your wildest dreams?

Steve didn’t know when he started becoming so prompt when it came to time, possibly when he picked up the duty of dropping off and picking up the kids from school. But nonetheless, he hated running late, and he also hated the fact that other people would be waiting on him. Today was no different, and he wasn’t planning on breaking a promise to a very special person whom he said he’d show up for. 

He had specifically told Robin to be ready on time and to even call Eddie to remind him of today’s plans, seeing as though he was so forgetful, but obviously it just always had to be them and his horrible time managing friends.

Steve couldn’t wait, impatiently tapping his foot on the Wheeler’s driveway waiting for the rest of the kids to show up so they could get going, but of course if one was taking too long to get ready, the other wasn’t ready at all. Nancy and Jonathan had told him to get going first—that they would all meet up there eventually when everyone was ready.

And that should’ve worked out, except for the fact that Steve was the only person out of the group to make it past the “Welcome to Roane County” sign before city troopers closed the roads due to a bumper to bumper accident. The bouquet of flowers sitting in his passenger seat and the white top you had left behind in his bedroom in the backseat hoping to find its way back to you tonight. 

With his foot on the pedal, he pressed down harder, watching each minute go by on his dash clock, hoping he’d be able to catch you in time before it was too late. 

You sat on the wooden crate, elbows resting on your knees as you looked both ways watching bystanders walking through the halls of the almost empty gallery. It was a slow day, not too many people showed up, probably because it was a Sunday night and most times people had better things to do than walk around and observe art but part of you wished at least some would care.

To top it all off, you’d only gotten three sales out of the thirteen paintings you had brought to the event—not like they weren’t any good, but they were meaningful in your eyes and you wished others would see it too.

You had spent the last few days thinking about something other than Steve, knowing good and well that you were an adult and there was surely more to life than a guy. Bills had to be paid and the last thing you should be doing was kicking your feet and blushing like a high schooler with a crush on the pretty boy.

Plus, you realized that it didn’t do you any good thinking so hard about him and what he felt for you because it could be all in your head. 

You needed to realize that banking and hoping he would feel the same just wasn’t worth your time or energy. If you kept digging yourself into this hole of feelings for him and those feelings not be reciprocated, you’d just bury yourself there in a pit of embarrassment.

You had learned long ago that holding out hope for something you weren’t positively confident about would only hurt you, and you were sure this was just something you were going to sweat out and laugh about later.

Both you and Steve were adults, and if there was a chance for more, then you’d just have to wait it out until you were sure. 

The only thing keeping you going tonight was heading home and spending the rest of the night thinking about the next week and how much work you needed to get done. So much to be done, but so little energy and inspiration you had left to get it finished.

People always had this idea that your mind was constantly running with ideas too fast for your paintbrush or pen to catch, which in some instances could be the case, but for you it wasn’t as easy. You’d hit a drought in muse, barely having the spirit to get up and actually create something that was your own. 

It was taking everything in you not to give up and call it quits because you worked too hard to get here. You had spent too many years proving and fighting towards a goal of following the dream that you envisioned for yourself. It was the voices of people telling you that your passion was “childish” or “just a hobby” that put a fire under your ass to get out of this artist block. That giving up this easily meant giving them the last laugh and you sure as hell weren’t going to do that. 

“I’m not too late, am I?” 

The pair of shoes coming into your line of sight followed by the voice you could never mistake broke through the barriers of your thoughts. You looked up and there he was, trying to catch his breath from the quick jog from the parking lot to the inside, not wanting to miss you before you packed up and left.

A wave of relief filled your anxiety ridden senses finally seeing someone that you recognized for the first time tonight. 

“Steve.” You beamed up at him through your sad eyes, instantly standing up and wrapping him in a tight embrace. 

“Hey.” He grinned against your head, pulling away somewhat to see your face, the sadness clearly fading with each second you two spent in each other’s arms.

“You’re not too late.” You exhaled before hugging him again and finally letting him go. 

“And these are for you.” 

He grinned handing over the small bunch of roses that you hadn’t noticed when he first walked in just relieved to see him here. 

Your hands wrapped around the brown paper, shielding your palms from any stray thorns as you held them close to your chest and inhaling the clove scent that radiated off of the blossoms. 

“Thanks!”

He nodded, stuffing his hands in his pockets while you fidgeted with your hands. The two of you holding eye contact filled with happiness yet nervousness behind them—both of you trying not to let it show though.

Steve smiled broadly, seeing the artwork behind you, “I’m glad I made it on time, I wouldn’t wanna miss it. I was just stuck in traffic for a little. That’s why it took me a while to get here.”

A part of you felt terrible for the hassle he must have gone through, considering the fact that Roane was already an hour away from Hawkins. Adding traffic meant it must have taken longer than usual. If you had known, you would’ve told him it was alright for him not to make it today.

But the other part of you felt smitten that he had sat through that hour of traffic just to be here. It showed that he was committed and didn’t like breaking promises, even if it was as little as something like this.

God, you were totally forgetting that inner monologue you had about Steve and relationships doing you no good.

You reached out a hand, skimming his arm appreciatively as you grinned so widely it took up most of your face.

“You really didn’t have to, Steve.”  

But your reaction told Steve that you felt otherwise from your words. More than elated with the fact that he had made the effort to show, and he was glad that he delivered. He wiggled, swinging his head, as your hand fell from his skin, wishing it would stay there longer so he could never forget it.

“I wanted to, and so did the others, but they were a little behind. You know, Will was really looking forward to coming tonight.” He mentioned wistfully.

Steve just now reminding you of the others who were not here beside him. It had totally slipped your mind that the rest of your friends weren’t here and greeting you tonight at the gallery.

But was it really wrong to admit that you also had totally forgotten that you had invited them in the first place?

It wasn’t like you didn’t care if they showed up or not, but you always learned to never set your expectations so high when it came to people showing up for you. Therefore, you always tried to not take it personally when others didn’t follow through with their words or commitments.

Back when you were still dating your ex, you used to invite him and your then friends to your galleries, expecting they’d just pop in to show some support, but they never did. So you just learned to suck it up and accept the fact that even if someone you loved said that they would show, there was always a possibility that they weren’t. 

Yet here you were, with Steve being the one to show up, and now actually hearing how the others made an effort to want to show up tonight, too. It made you feel soft inside, like a plate of mush which would reduce to nothing because the tenderness was too much for you to handle and fathom for yourself. 

“Oh…” You murmured under your breath, letting those words and his actions sink in for a second. 

Steve caught it, the way you glassed over once he told you that information not knowing what you were feeling deep down.

“Buuuuttt I’m here so I hope it’s still ok.” 

You snapped out of the glassed over expression the second you heard his voice coming to you again. It wasn’t just a dream of someone actually showing up for you…Steve was really here, and if it wasn’t for the damn traffic accident, the others would be here too. Friends who actually showed up for you for once.

“More than ok.”  You grinned, nodding more to yourself than to him.

He smiled once you came back too, your free hand reaching out to grab his arm and lead you to the canvas that you propped up against the walls. Your fingertips only fell off his skin as you took the time to rearrange the canvas so that he could see them all clearly without them overlapping one another. 

Every piece was different, yet the same, a collage of colors and techniques that worked together to make such a sight for the eyes. And for the first time in Steve Harrington’s life, he came to appreciate art and almost felt like he could see every brush stroke that you had put into them.  

His own fingertips strung free from his pockets, reaching out to feel the paint over his skin. There was a texture in this specific painting, the one of a bright blue sky with pastel clouds, something out of a lover-like fantasy world.

“Wow… so this is all you, right?” 

You nervously squeezed your hand tightly around the stems, nodding your head “Yeah, and they’re not my best work but—“

At the admission of hearing you tear yourself down so quickly, he jumped in headfirst and didn’t let you finish that sentence. Instead, he looked at you like you were totally mad — furry brows bunched together as he pshed and gestured back to Lover painting he was now going to coin it.

“No, these are amazing… I mean like seriously, the details are so realistic.”

You laughed lightly, whispering a soft “thank you.”

You watched him, the way he didn’t skip a beat, grabbing the next painting beside the pastel sunset. There was a visible contrast between the two canvases. Unlike the previous one that was filled with bright colors, this was gray and black. A forest somewhere that you had made up in your imagination, with tall trees and an ominous fog that you could only dream about what was on the other side of it.  

“How much?” Steve asked you, turning his head to look your way where you raised your brows confused. 

“What?”  Your eyes squinted, trying to understand if he meant how much time you took to paint it.

“For a painting. This one looks really cool and I think it would look nice on my wall. The car poster is getting a little lonely up there all by itself.”

He chuckled, looking back at the painting and holding it far out towards the wall to try to picture it in his room.

You couldn’t take him seriously. There was no way he was asking you how much a painting was. None of your friends ever bought a piece of your artwork, and never even voiced want to own something that you had taken the time to make. Which is why you never really had a lot of friends anymore, but let alone believe what you heard coming from Steve’s mouth.  

“W-what?”

He looked at you, raising his brows then going to pick up another, “No?  Then what about this one? I think it would be a nice contrast because the colors of my walls are actually—”

You stopped him, clutching onto his wrist because you couldn’t take it anymore. He didn’t have to pity you and purchase something just to be kind. You didn’t want him to go out of his way for that. 

“Steve, you really don’t have to buy one.” Your voice was full of trepidation and uncertainty, something he didn’t understand. 

He placed the piece down prompting you to let go of his wrist as you shuffled back awkwardly, not meeting his eyes and instead boring holes into the pieces you had made, judging every detail and how Steve couldn’t possibly own one of them, let alone hang it on his wall. 

“Why not?” He sought gently, his fingertips grazing your hands that you tugged on, halting you for a moment as you finally looked up to meet his eyes.

You swallowed, wiggling your shoulders as you struggled to find the words.

“B-because, I don’t know…they’re really not my best work and it’s embarrassing—“ 

Again, he shook his head with a look of reassurance accompanied with a deep frown that was unhappy about the way you were talking about yourself and the things you created.

“Hey, nonono, they’re all so beautiful. I’m serious. And I seriously want to buy one, so please?”

You took a deep breath, tightly pursing your lips and nodding, “Fine, ummm, just pick any you want… let’s say, $20!” 

He finally let up, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out more than a $20 bill and placing it in the palm of your hand, “You’re selling yourself too short.”

The contact of your hands touching already made your heart race a little faster, but it was the squeeze that he gave you that made your knees weak, along with the signature toothy smile that was a burning image in your head.

His hand retraced a few seconds later allowing you to stuff the cash into your back pocket, “No one buys art from an amateur over $20.”

“Then they don’t deserve your art because this is worth way over $20.” 

“Thanks, Steve.”

There was a few seconds of silence, watching Steve examine the piece he had picked out and you trying to see what wheels were spinning in his head. Probably him thinking about which wall to hang it on or worse, where the nearest garbage can was so he could dump it out and forget about it. 

You pinched your eyes shut for a minute, silently cursing yourself out of these stupid self-deprecating thoughts that always seemed to come out for no goddamn reason at all, even after the nice things Steve had said.

“I should pack up, everyone is leaving.” You cradled the bunches of flowers in your arm getting ready to clean up and get going, but of course, Steve beat you to it. 

Flipping over the wooden crate you were once sitting on, he tucked his purchased canvas under his arm while he carefully began to grab the other canvas, standing them upright in the wooden box. 

He always did this, and you weren’t sure if it was just when it came to you, or maybe it was a thing he did with the rest of his friends. But he was always willing to help—at least when it came to you. Always springing into action before you could even ask for help and even if you didn’t, he wanted to. 

“Will these fit in your trunk, or should I put them in the backseat?” He asked, beginning to walk towards the exit doors, ignoring your protests to try to carry the crate yourself. 

You eventually gave up, a small snicker coming from him that you picked up on as you caught up with him.

“Umm neither? I took the bus today.” 

He held the door open for you with his foot, listening while you walked out into the brisk night air. 

“I could give you a ride back home?” He suggested, looking at you, trying to decide.

“Are you sure?” You bit your lip, looking up at him where he nodded and fished his keys out of his pocket, dangling it in the air. 

You smiled softly, finishing into your own pocket, fingers spreading the cash he had given you just a few moments earlier, “I’ll take it if you let me pay for dinner?”

He shook his head with a chuckle before devotedly nodding his head.

“We have a deal.” 

The maroon BMW was easy to spot in the parking lot. Steve clicked the unlock button as the car offered one, two beeps before he popped the trunk open and carefully placed your things in there. You were already making your way to the passenger seat as he shut it, ready to pull the door open, but his hand reached forward first. 

Your eyes jerked to his, where he hovered closely behind you before pulling it open, “let me.”

Was Steve always this gentleman-like? Did he always open the door for his passengers? Maybe for Robin, but you weren’t quite sure about the others. Though you didn’t have much time to ponder his chivalrous, the door slightly closed after you had gotten in and the driver’s door opened as he jogged over.

“Where are we headed?” He tugged on his seatbelt, clicking it in as his eyes remained on yours.

“Do you like breakfast for dinner?” You asked, fingers brushing over the floral petals sitting in your lap before you flickered your eyes up at him. 

“Show me the way.” He grinned, putting the car in drive and letting you give him directions to your favorite spot. 

Maybe it was the fact that Steve had done a good job at preparing himself to not look and sound like an idiot when it came to you, but today he was more at ease which was surprising considering the fact that it was your first time alone without the rest of the crew actually around. All of the nervousness and built up anxiety from the last encounter seemed to have melted from both of your minds, just focusing on the now and savoring it.

When you and Steve finally arrived, you had beat him to opening your door, however he did walk a few milliseconds faster just so he could hold the front doors to the diner open while you brushed past him with a giggle. 

“Hi, sweetie pie!” 

The voice of your dear friend and favorite waitress, Dorothea, came barreling out the double doors of the kitchen as she caught your entrance through the tiny window sliver. Dorothea was a lot older than you, but she felt like the only friend and mother figure you had here in Roane. 

You immediately wrapped your arms around her, hugging her closely with a squeeze, “Hi, Dorthy! Missed you!” 

She laughed at your nickname for her, rubbing your back warmly before pulling away and turning her curious sights to Steve, “Missed you more, pumpkin. And who might this be?” 

You backed away, just enough to stand beside Steve and gesture to him, “A friend of mine! He came by to stop at the gallery and I had to take him here.” 

He waved at her, stepping forward with a hand lent out for her to shake, but in Dorthy’s overly-friendly manner, she wrapped him up in a hug, a tight one just like she had you in a few moments ago. 

“Oh—well this is nice.” He mumbled, making you stifle a laugh as he shyly hugged her back and patted her shoulder stiffly.

Finally letting go, she took a good look at him, almost inspecting every detail of his face with her brows slightly raised, trying to intimidate him and send him running out the door. It was safe to say that Dorothea was protective of you, just like a mother would to a daughter, and to her, you were the one she never had. It meant a lot to see you walking in for the first time in a year with a boy whom she had never seen by your side. But seeing as though Steve didn’t seem to be scared or cower backwards, she laughed, giving his shoulder a firm pat. 

“Your name?” She ordered plainly.

He swallowed, glancing at your not so fazed self, “Umm, Steve. Steve Harrington.” 

“Nice to meet you, Steve!” She patted him on the back, before turning to you with a wink, “C’mon, your favorite seat is open.” 

You screeched softly, clapping your hands to yourself quietly. Dorthy guided the both of you to a secluded booth in the back of the diner, the one with the only working jukebox machine and motioned for you to slide in and take a seat.

“Wanna take a look at the menu, hun?” Dorthy pulled out a copy of the menu from her apron, passing it to Steve who thanked her. 

“Do you know what you’re getting?” He proposed, looking up at you from the menu. 

You nodded with a smile, your eyes drifting up, seeing her pen drifting over the notepad just awaiting your confirmation.

“The usual,”  you responded as she bowed and began jotting it down.

As she wrote, you turned your attention back to Steve, filling him in on what you ordered all the time.

“A Spanish omelet. A side of French toast smothered with strawberries, whipped cream, and chocolate sauce. And a small decaf and water.” 

“A meal fit for champions.” Dorthy quips as Steve laughs, not bothering to look at the rest of the menu. 

“I’ll get the same thing, but instead of strawberries can I do the blueberries?” 

“Sure, hon,” she says, doubling the order and making a note from the fruit substitute.

Steve handed her back the menu as she finished up, watching the ballpoint pen point towards the wall of the booth where Strawberry Shortcake and Elvis were singing next to a road sign that read, “Music and Food Ahead!”

“You know she did the mural in here?”

Dorth wore a proud expression, watching Steve’s eyes go wide, and twisting his head around at the restaurant that was covered in your art. 

You rolled your eyes lovingly, shoving away at her hands, “stop it, Dorth!” 

“Holy shit…you did all this by yourself?”

Steve leaned closer to the wall, getting a good look at the meticulous detail that you put into the whole thing. His eyes shuffled between going wide and squinting to take it all in.

Dorothea didn’t give you time to respond to his question, instead speaking for you, “Yep, in 113 hours.” 

“131”  you corrected with a smirk as she rolled her eyes sarcastically and clicked her pen shut.

Steve let out another expletive under his breath, tearing his eyes from the wall leaning back into the seat to look at you in amazement that you hadn’t told him this sooner. If he had known you had painted and designed a mural for a diner as big as this one, he would’ve asked Jonathan if he could borrow his camera so he could take pictures of it.

“131 hours… she’s talented, you know.” She raised her brows at Steve with a hand on her hip. 

He beamed, patting the walls and not letting his eyes leave yours, “Insanely.” 

Dorothea was warming up to him, a giddy laugh erupting as she nudged your shoulder with her elbow.

“I like him!” She buzzed not so softly to you as you giggled and hung your head down shyly away from Steve’s gaze.

The ripping of paper came from her notepad, ready to head back over to the kitchen and get your dishes started,

“Food should be out in twenty. Try not to break the jukebox in the meantime.”

You looked back over your shoulder shouting out, “I would never!” as she waved her hand in the air mindlessly at you

Steve’s eyes were still glued to you, filled with awe at hearing just how much work you put into doing this all yourself. But you, on the other hand, were too busy scanning the songs on the marquee, wondering which one you would pick to play first. 

“I still can’t believe you did all this.” Steve shook his head in disbelief, fingers tracing the outline of the road that you painted on the adjacent wall. 

You grunted, wiggling your shoulders as you began to tell him more of how you got in that position in the first place.

“Dorothea and I met because she used to stop by the gallery from time to time and when she got the job here, she told the owner about my work.” 

“Really?” Steve asked, watching you finally take your sights away from the jukebox and look at him. 

You nodded, resting your chin on your fist, “Originally they just had the checkerboard pattern in here,” you pointed to the black-and-white tiles that were on the ground, his eyes following your finger.

“But then Dorothy reached out and asked if I was willing to come in and do a custom 50s mural.” 

“But in that many hours? How’s that even possible?” He crossed his arms over his chest watching you closely.

You looked behind you suspiciously before leaning closer towards him, your mouth covering one side of your mouth as you whispered.

“A ton of coffee and a promise of free food for life….but the owner doesn’t know that.”  You confessed, watching him throw his head back and cover his face as he laughed. 

“You’re gonna milk them dry of coffee and pancakes one day,” He joked

You shrugged your shoulders, relaxing back into the booth and sighing, “They’ll survive just like how I survived painting this piece of crap.”

The insult towards yourself slipped without hesitation, masked with faint laughter while you looked around the too colorful restaurant where the walls were littered with everything that came from your hands.

As soon as it left your mouth, Steve’s laughter stopped watching your eyes drift over the rest of the diner, shaking your head to yourself as if you were disgusted with the masterpiece you made. He didn’t know why you were so hard on yourself, your own worst critic at times even when it came to little things that he would die to be praised upon.

But you hated it as if you hated yourself.

“Why do you always do that?” He sought, leaning on his elbows, seeing you turn to face him.

Your forehead creased up, silently asking him what he meant.

“Why do you always tear yourself down? I—I noticed that about you.”

His voice was quiet, mixed with a hint of concern, obviously. The crease in your forehead fell, and instead you looked almost bewildered, as if you didn’t know how to answer it rather than why he was questioning you in the first place.

“I don’t know, i—it’s easier for me to be critical than to be nice to myself.” You admitted, swallowing and looking down at the jukebox like the list of songs would distract you from his stare you could feel.

“Why?” Steve asked again simply, not trying to prod but just trying to understand.

You shrugged again, not meeting his eyes this time around, “It’s what I’m used to hearing — how I need to do more instead of being satisfied with what I did.”

“Then why not just think about what you did in the moment and be proud of that?”

You scoffed, not with any harsh intentions but just at the irony, because you always tried but had those other voices eating away at you. The devil living rent free in your consciousness, tearing you down at every opportunity.

“You mean what wasn’t enough?” You respond dryly, and Steve rolled his eyes, tutting at your response.

He offers you a stern look, but at the same time a gentle kind that tells you he truly means what he’s saying.

“Stop that. You’re doing it again and you know that it’s not true.”

“It kinda is…I mean, just look at me. I haven’t painted anything in days. You bought a canvas that I haven’t been able to sell in months. I’m practically the epitome of a failure right now.”

You looked just as stressed as you sounded. Hands running from your forehead to your scalp, threading your fingers through your hair and giving them a slight tug. Lips parted as you took a deep and long breath out. Eyes pinching closed accompanied with a shake of your head before they snapped open and met his apologetically.

“S—sorry, I’m rambling. I just…it’s been so hard to actually get stuff done, y’know?”

He nodded sympathetically as if he knew exactly what you were talking about, but in his head, the most stressful thing that happened with his job was getting tapes returned after the deadline and having to deal with complicated customers who didn’t want to pay the late fee.

Still, he just wanted to make you feel better.

“I mean, I get it,” He started, swallowing, trying to gather his thoughts into a clump of something that would make sense.

“…I can’t even imagine how stressful painting this entire restaurant must have been, and on top of that, I know it’s probably a lot of pressure to keep producing those pieces of art—but it’s gotta be worth a little more than money, you know?”

Steve’s words intrigued and perplexed you in the best possible way. Letting up on the tug you have on your roots, you brought your fists back down to your chin as you raised a querying brow at him. He understood, nodding as he licked his lips and peers up again, trying to muster the thoughts.

“Like—it’s like you don’t realize that people are actually so captivated by what you make. I swear, if you told Robin or Will that you painted this place, they’d go batshit crazy and run around here complimenting everything you did. So would everyone else.”

There is truth to every single word he’s saying and Steve knows that, yet you still sit across from him, wondering if that’s really true. As if there was a possibility that he’d ever lie about something so small yet incredibly important to you, because this was a habit of self-deprecation that was planted by someone who was the opposite of Steve.

The person who would nit-pick at everything you did and made you feel like the things that you enjoyed doing and were proud of shouldn’t be on a pedestal and appreciated. Instead, it was knocked off and shattered into a million tiny pieces where every single flaw was showcased.

And while the person wasn’t in your life anyone, there was a permanent mark that you couldn’t erase and the habit that you never got the chance to grow out of — being so judgemental and critical of yourself.

“I’m sorry…did—did I say something?”

You were quiet for less than a minute, but it was enough to fret Steve and regret what he had said, thinking he must have hit a little too close to home.

Why was he always like this? It happened just a few days ago when you both were separated between his bedroom door and now sitting here in front of you actually seeing you go silent felt even more anxiety inducing.

But you shook your head quickly, glazed eyes coming back to life, full of reassurance just like the words that you spoke a little too fast for your liking.

“Yeah…I mean no! I mean, yeah, you said something, but not in a bad way. In a good way, actually! I just… sorry, I’m thinking.”

Steve replied with a small tight-lipped smile, nodding his head as a way to say, take all the time you need and think away… but just be sure to think good things about yourself.

You turned your head on your hands, deliberately making a round through the diner that you painted and poured your heart and soul into. That sure, while Dorthy had to bribe you with some coffee and food because the owner didn’t meet your price, it was actually decent and if you weren’t the one who painted it, you would’ve been praising it every time you walked in here.

Even if you painted Strawberry Shortcake’s lashes a little too full that it looked like spider legs or made Elvis’ hair so tall it could be mistaken for a wave, it all came together and like Steve said it was worth more than what you were paid.

It gave you experience.

Spending days going back-and-forth sharing sketches with the owner and even his little daughter that begged and pleaded with her dad to include Strawberry Shortcake despite the 50s theme.

Multiple trips back over to your favorite art store in Hawkins to pick up the paints that you liked to work with in too many shades to count.

Long days and even longer nights with your headphones blasting the same tape on repeat when you just started outlining the whole thing.

Hunched over in awkward positions and standing on a creaky ladder to make sure you didn’t miss filling in a spot with color.

On goers on the other side of the windows peering in to admire the art inside the diner that would soon be a grand opening to them.

Signing your name teeny tiny-ly in pink right beside Strawberry Shortcake’s hat when you finally finished the whole piece.

Getting the biggest hug from the owner’s daughter once she stepped in and saw her favorite character painted included on the mural.

Getting even more compliments and praise from the staff and customers who were impressed by the sheer talent that was depicted on the wall.

Steve was right.

It was worth more than money and sure as hell was worth a lot more than your critiques when you did the very best you could with the deal you had in front of you at the time.

Why were you always so mean to yourself when all you wanted was to just be nice?

You were nice to Dorthea.

You were nice to Robin.

You were to all of your new friends.

You were especially nice to Steve.

But you weren’t nice to yourself.

You had to start making an effort to be.

Your eyes made its last round of the diner, ending with your orbs meeting Steve’s, whose didn’t seem to tear away from you during your thinking time. He watched every second, seeing the way you’d pinch your eyes tight to see something better and how he could tell there was happiness behind them when they landed on a particular part you were proud of.

The wheels were turning in your head and he hoped what he said stuck because he wanted, needed you to know his words were true. You were everything in a way that was too profound for him to ever describe.

“Whatcha thinking?” Steve pondered out loud as your eyes finally landed on his.

You smiled gingerly, shrugging your shoulders, “That I ought to be nicer to myself.”

“Yeah?” Steve grinned heartily, content with the fact that you were seeing it through the way that he was.

You nodded assuringly before your hands trailed behind you, reaching into your pocket and pulling out your wallet. He watched you, hearing the zip from a compartment being opened followed by the clank of the coin dropping onto the table.

“Annnnnnd I’m also thinking about what song I’m gonna play.”

He chuckled, shaking his head at how short and sweet you kept it when it came to what you were really thinking about just then. But to him what mattered the most was that you heard him out and something inside you lit up bright enough if you had told him that you were really going to start being nicer to yourself.

Whatever you were thinking and keeping to yourself was fine by him, just crossing his fingers that he wouldn’t need to hear you tear yourself down any longer because if he did, he was sure that he was going to tell you all the reasons why he thought you were so great.

Your fingernail traveled down the list of songs, beaming excitedly when you saw your favorite as you hastily inserted the coin and punched in the number and letter that got the tune ringing through the restaurant speakers.

Steve couldn’t help but smile as the piano crescendoed through the diner and your head thumped to the beat while your mouth moved along with the lyrics. Last summer he had taken the kids to watch Top Gun at the theaters and for a week straight they couldn’t stop singing the song. He had almost grown annoyed with it until now.

He was going to be sure to thank them for singing it so much that the lyrics were now ingrained in his brain so much so that he didn’t miss a beat mouthing along with you as you giggled through the tune, surprised he knew it so well by heart.

Though you were sitting, Steve could tell that you were letting go in some oddly cute way that he hadn’t seen you before. Your shoulders grooving to the beat and your hair tousling with each shake you gave to accompany the rhythm. You looked like you were having the time of your life here with him even if it was just at some diner in your part of town with your favorite song playing in the background.

His palms rested against the cool table top, sliding himself out of his seat and holding out his hands towards you as the music continued. Your head bops stopped for only a few seconds, eyeing the hand he held out to you before trailing to his face.

“Let’s dance?” He asked, wiggling his brows while his head thumped.

You bit your lip, looking back at the nearly empty diner knowing that it didn’t matter if this place was full or not, you were going to take his hand and dance for the next two minutes. Being nicer to yourself meant many things and not caring what others thought was one of them.

“Sure, why not,” you breathed, taking his hand as he pulled you up out of your seat and began moving the both of you to the beat of the music as you sang along.

Your hands holding onto his as you both jumped around looking like complete love sick fools in the back of the diner where the few customers way up front smiled at the sight. Laughter intertwined with the singing and hair moving in every direction with each sway and turn.

All the care in the world that you could give right now went out the window with Steve’s hand in yours. Not even in the romantic or platonic sense, but in a human way that was too complex for you to describe. Like some sort of sorcery that sucked you into an alternate dimension where you could just be free of judgment and anxiety.

At one point in your life, you used to sit across the table with someone who would tell you to stop wasting your quarters playing dumb 50s love songs while you devoured pancakes. And here you were playing those stupidly dumb love songs with someone who got up and asked you to dance not caring how many quarters you’d use for the remainder of the night.

Steve wished that he had ordered more food because maybe then it would take longer for the order to come out and cut the dancing short, but still he kept it going. Pouring out all his change into a pile near the jukebox as you two ate your dinner, taking turns picking songs while he resisted the urge to ask you to dance with him again.

If he did, however, you were sure you’d drop your fork in a snap and take his hand all over again.

A snap back to reality is what Steve took instead, instantly flooded with a hug from Dorothea as she walked you two out of the diner and wrapped her arms across his body snuggly.

“It was nice meeting you, honey bun! Get her home safely and I hope I see you around soon!”

Steve snickered, nodding against her shoulder before he pulled away and stepped aside, giving you ample room to hug her.

“Bye, Dorth, I’ll see you! Thanks again for dinner!”

You kissed her cheek lovingly before pulling away, waving one last goodbye to her before you and Steve walked towards his car.

It didn’t surprise you that instead of heading towards the driver’s side; he jogged up to the passenger door, holding it wide open for you as you trailed a bits behind him. You shook your head halfheartedly, watching a smirk splay over his face still holding the door for you.

“After you,” He said in his best English accent, making you giggle as you slid into the seat and he shut the door before you could give him your gratitude.

A few seconds later, he was already in the driver’s seat, buckling in and starting up the car, ready for the drive back to your place. You watched him check his mirrors one last time before he shifted the car to reverse, his head turning back to the rear as his hand rested behind your chair as he backed out.

“Did you need me to give you directions?” You shifted your body towards him.

He shook his head, turning back around and moving the car into drive, “I think I know the way from here, but a little tour guide would be nice.”

The radio wasn’t needed for the car ride back, instead the air was filled with gasps and pointed fingers in different directions as Steve drove and you happily gave him a brief tour of your part of town. Not that it was any different from Hawkins with the small-town feel to it, but in a lot of ways Roane just felt more cozy.

Steve picked up on that right away, feeling the sense that Roane was more like you in many ways, but especially the scenery. Even in the night, he could see the rose bushes that decorated the side roads and the endless turns into different mom-and-pops that were slowly dying out in his town.

You pointed out the small park down the road which held your town’s weekly farmers’ market that you grocery shopped at most of the time. A lot of the produce was from local farmers and gardens. You even mentioned that during the fall, Merrill Wright who owns the pumpkin patch in Hawkins, occasionally stops by and donates pumpkins for the town’s annual carving contest.

But your favorite part of town seemed to be a small cafe called Taylor’s, or that’s just what Steve was assuming by your reaction.

“And that’s my favorite coffee shop!” You blurted, pointing at the quaint store on the corner of the block you and Steve drove past. 

You began to trail off, telling him about the place that you found yourself always going to, “They have this honey rose latte, and it’s like the best thing I’ve ever tasted in my life… you need to try it! And they make these things called cronuts—” 

“Cronuts?” Steve peeked over at you with a soft smile playing on his lips, captivated by your enthusiasm over a baked good that was foreign to him.

“Yeah! So it’s basically like if a croissant and donut had a child. Perfectly flaky on the outside, yet soft and buttery on the inside. They make a couple of variations every morning, but they usually sell out so quickly before I can get my hands on any.”

You sighed sadly, sulking back into the seat, knowing that you were never really a morning person and with their early opening time, it would be impossible to drag yourself out of bed to snag a dozen, no matter how heavenly they tasted.

“Have you ever tried making your own? I’m sure you could do it,” Steve spoke, turning the wheel into your complex.

You shook your head. “I tried a few times, but I can’t seem to get it down. I even tried asking the owners to share the recipe, but I think it’s one of the family ones that they want to keep a secret.”

He turned into a parking spot directly in front of your unit where the motion sensor light sparked up, casting a gentle golden glow around the both of you.

“That’s a shame. You know, I could always try to sneak in and steal their secret recipe for you?” His voice was laced with playfulness.

You couldn’t help but giggle, scrunching your face up with laughter, “I don’t think I’d have enough to bail you out for trespassing and robbery, Steve.”

His eyes drifted up in the air, while his fingers pointed at you. “But if I get the recipe for you, then you could open up your own place and outsell them, then you could bail me out.”

You reached out to poke at his arm gently, shaking your head. “Don’t entice me! Though I don’t think I’d be able to sleep or bake knowing you’re locked up.”

The car had been placed into park a little while ago, yet here you and Steve sat, still looking at each other with awfully wide smiles that didn’t have any plans to disappear anytime soon — the two of you wanting to stay in the sweet warmth that enveloped you.

Steve shrugged his shoulders and his eyes sparkled with adoration, “Oh, you don’t have to worry about me. The guys would totally be scared to mess with me after hearing how far I went to get a recipe for the best baker in Roane.”

You blushed stupidly at his words, “I’m just a regular person that enjoys baking!”

“Nope! You’re like on some Julia Child level. I won’t be surprised if you have your own baking show one day.” He said genuinely.

Crackling your nose, genuine humor and horror flashed over your face, “Ew god no! She’s amazing and I’m terrible on camera. I’ll probably freeze up and forget that I’m supposed to be talking the audience through every step.”

Steve narrowed his eyes, scolding you softly, “Hey, be nice to yourself.”

Your eyes widened at the realization, totally letting the comment slip by accident, “Sorry! Sorry, I forgot! But like seriously, I’m camera shy and that’s a fact, not an insecurity thing.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, when I was seven the local reporter asked me what my favorite ride at the county fair was and I froze up and I asked for my mommy.”

He pursed his lips, blinking his eyes closed and nodding his head admittedly while you slapped a hand over your mouth in shock. You tried to stifle your laughter but you couldn’t, convulsing down with endless giggles erupting in your chest.

“Steve! God, I’m so sorry! You must have been traumatized!”

He joined in on the laughter, rubbing his hand behind his neck, “I refused to watch the news! Every time my dad would turn it on, I would sprint towards the remote and change the channel because I was terrified of seeing myself on there.”

“I guess that would make two of us dorks on camera.” You settled down, eyes lingering on him where he nodded with a smile.

Neither of you wanted to say goodnight.

“I-I had a really great time tonight.” You started, rubbing your hands together in your lap, the slight wrinkling of the brown wrapping paper around the flowers making the only noise in the car. 

He hummed in agreement, “So did I…the most fun in a while, but I’m probably going to be dreading sitting in traffic all the way back home, but it was worth—”

“Why don’t you stay over at mine tonight?”

The offer came out a little quick for your liking, even without you fully thinking it through, but it just seemed like the right thing to say.

“Really?” Steve asked, lifting his brows

You nodded, gulping down quickly, “Yeah! I can take the couch and you can take—”

“I’m not letting you take the couch.”

You breathed out, rolling your eyes, “Fine! You can take the couch and I’ll be sure to give you plenty of blankets and fluff up the pillows extra nice.”

“Hmm, it sounds tempting. You sure? I really don’t mind sitting through the traffic.”

You nodded firmly again, “Positive! Plus, they take forever to reopen the roads here, but they’ll probably be open in the morning and it’ll be just right.”

After having reassured him of his stay, he removed the keys out of the ignition before following your lead as you exited the car. You remained on the pavement, subconsciously waiting for Steve and digging into your jean pocket for your keys. Steve was quick, making a pit stop at the trunk to grab your crate of paintings you had forgotten about.

“Oh, thank you!” You whispered as you felt him behind you.

He simply smiled, following step by step to your front door and lingering close by as you worked the key into the lock, twisting it open. You entered first, your hand blindlessly pushing the door to keep it open for Steve as he stepped through. The dark entrance quickly lit up with the yellow fluorescence from when you flipped the light switch on.

You tioed your sneakers off, placing them on the small rack near the door and tossing your keys in the small pottery bowl.

“You can just give those to me.” You said, holding your arm out to finally take the crate from Steve as he obliged and worked on unlacing his shoes and placing them next to yours.

You walked deeper into your apartment, setting the crate down in an empty corner in the living room before you began turning on the rest of the lights to brighten up the place a bit. Surprisingly, you kept the place pretty tidy over the last few days, just a couple of paint bottles that you had left on the coffee table as you attempted to paint this morning before the gallery — unfortunately, that was unsuccessful.

And while Steve kept to himself, watching you quietly as you walked around and picked up a few things you had lying around, he couldn’t help but notice the vase of flowers he had previously given to you, still thriving in the middle of your coffee table. 

Soon you were already heading towards the kitchen, walking past him with the new bunch of flowers in your hand ready to get them in another vase before they began to wilt. 

“Do you want something to drink? Tea or anything?” You called out, tearing off the brown wrapping and tossing it into the rubbish before reaching for a glass jar to store them in for the meantime. 

Steve didn’t miss a beat, crossing the short distance between the kitchen and the hallway watching you place the roses upon the kitchen window sill hoping they’d catch some much needed sunlight in the morning. 

You turned on your heel, reaching for the fridge and opening it to retrieve the pitcher full of cold water. 

“Just some water.” He said, grabbing clean glasses from the dishrack and held them out for you as you poured.

Steve waited until you closed the fridge before pushing out your glass first, letting you get your sip before him. To you it felt like a nice flow with him here, like a harmony of domesticity that you didn’t know you had been missing out on. 

You leaned against the counter, watching him gulp the remainder of his water as you spoke, “Should I shower first, then you second? I think I might have a pair of sweats that could fit you, but I don’t think I’ll have a top or anything like that.”

He swallowed and nodded, “That’s fine, just some pants will be good enough. You don’t mind if I use the phone to call Robs? Just wanna let her know that I’m staying the night before she spam calls my house.”

You laughed, pointing towards the living room where the rotary phone sat on a small table near the couch, “She must be worried sick, so you better call soon. I’m gonna go shower really quick. And I swear I won’t use all the hot water!”

“No, please, don’t stop your hot water hogging in my presence.” He called out as you laughed out loud on your way to your bedroom to fetch a clean pair of pajamas for the night.

He heard the bathroom door shut and the water from the shower start up. Reaching back into the fridge, he poured himself another half cup of water, and finished it quickly before grabbing both his and your cup and heading towards the sink. After giving them a brief wash and setting them upside down on the rack to air dry, he plopped onto the couch, picking up the phone and dialing the numbers he knew by heart.

One, two, two-and-a-half rings, then the line picked up.

“I am so sorry we didn’t make it tonight! I swear, I was telling Eddie to drive faster, but then the stupid city troopers just started blaring their sirens and stepping out onto the road and before you know it, the road was closed, which is why—”

Maybe he had gotten accustomed to Robin’s rants, but he was almost about to let her finish before he had realized that she thought it was you on the other line and not her.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to suppress his laughter as he cut her off, “Robin, jeez, slow down, it’s just—”

“Steve!”  she exclaimed, nearly damaging his eardrums, “Why does it say you’re calling from Roane County?”

“Because I’m in Roane, dingus. I’m spending the night at her apartment. Traffic is still way too backed up for me to make it back to Hawkins tonight.”

There was a sharp gasp that came from her, followed by a hand hitting something, or actually someone who was sitting beside her, and shrieked out a “What!” in response.

Not that Robin was a great liar or anything, but Steve just knew she was doing a bad job at trying to hide the fact that Nancy, Max, and El were also in her bedroom, as he couldn’t mistake their familiar voices and gasps — especially Robin’s not so quiet whisper.

“Steve is spending the night with her at the apartment! Holy shit, he finally made his move!”

He pinched the bridge of his nose again, stretching the phone away from his ear as the sounds of girly screams and giggles came loudly from the other side. Rustling followed, which sounded like the phone dropped before it was picked up, and Robin’s voice echoed again.

“Steve? Steve, hello, are you still there?!”

“If I say yes, will you guys stop screaming like six-year-olds?” He asked with a heavy sigh, followed by a grunt by Robin.

Steve swore he could see the rolling over her eyes, just by the sarcastic scoff she offered him, “Don’t be ridiculous Steve, we’re more like ten-year-olds. Still in our youth, yet on the brink of teenage dirtbag status.”

“You have to stop hanging out with Eddie, I swear—you know what, whatever. I’m staying at her place as a friend. Did you get that? Friend.”

Again, there was that knowing sarcastic scoff that she responded with that would be followed with her classic banter.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Stevie. Just make sure you wear a rubber if you and her plan to “spend the night” as more than friends! I don’t need my friend knocked up with baby Harrington before her and I got the chance to go bar hopping.”

“Can we come too?” He could hear the two eager voices of El and Max in the background.

“No.”

Max jumped in, leaning in closer to the receiver, “To which one exactly? You and her sleeping together or us going to the bar?”

Steve hissed, shutting his eyes tightly “Robin, take me off a speaker! And that’s a no to both, by the way!”

There was laughter erupting from the other side again, before he heard a click and Robin’s voice came in a lot clearer as she pressed the phone to her ear, cutting Steve off from the rest of the gals.

“I’m just poking some fun at you, dingus. Your sex lives are none of my business, but I’m just trying to preach safety. How was the gallery by the way?”

He took a deep breath of relief, finally escaping to what he hoped would be a normal conversation with the uncomfortable comments towards him and his sex life that really was zero to none. 

“Great. I actually bought something off of her, plan to hang it on my wall right next to the car poster above my desk.” He answered.

“Honestly, if I were you, just ditch that lame car poster and buy the rest of her art and flood your walls with it.” She half joked.

“No, that would be creepy — like a stalker level creepy or something. I don’t want her to think I’m creepy.”

Robin snorted. “The fact that you even considered it shows me how badly you actually want to get rid of that car poster.”

“Whatever…gonna throw it out next weekend or something.” He sighed, realizing that he had grown out of the lame car poster since he was sixteen.

“Or we could donate it to the Salvation Army? Maybe some pretentious twelve-year-old will think it’s another man’s treasure.” Robin suggested half jokingly.

“Yeah, okay, whatever. Anyway, after the gallery we went for dinner at her favorite diner—”

She gasped as if she knew exactly what he was talking about, “The one with the French toast smothered in strawberries?!”

He chuckled, nodding his head to himself. “Yeah, that one. She got hers with strawberries and I got blueberries.”

“Do you have something against strawberries?” She accused suspiciously.

“I thought I told you they’re too tart for my tastebuds — now can I tell you about the rest of the night?”

“Please do.” She responded, dropping the whole spiel about fruit and forgetting why she asked in the first place.

“Before we got our food, we talked, then we danced, then we ate and then we ended up here. She’s in the shower right now.” He looked down the hallway still hearing the shower going in the bathroom.

“Danced? Since when did you like dancing and may I ask what song?”

He pshed, rolling his eyes but he knew she could feel it, “I always liked dancing just not with you because you always step on my feet, and it was Great Balls of Fire.”

“Dude, I stepped on your foot like twice and it was actually your fault because you got the routine wrong! And I thought you said you hated that song?”

“Well, I don’t hate the song… at least not anymore.”

There was a gag on the other side of the line, making him chuckle before she spoke, “You’re so in love it makes me physically sick.”

His eyes widened, turning his voice down to a whisper, “Don’t say that! I’m not in love, I’m just…just, shit, I’m just—”

“Just really whipped by her, trust me we alllll know, but hey, if you want to play the long excruciating game before you finally see it through, then by all means go ahead, but the day you two finally stop dancing around these feelings will be the best day in my—”

“Steve, do you think these will do?” Your voice came barreling into the living room and his hand clasped over the receiver of the phone, cutting your voice off from Robin's side.

Your hair was wrapped up in a towel and you were dressed in some baggy sleep shorts and a tank top to match. You held a pair of gray sweats in your hands, along with a dark blue towel folded right beneath it.

Steve removed his hand from the phone, “Uh shoot, Robin, hold on,” he then placed the phone down, standing up and taking the pants from you.

He unfolded it, checking it out before nodding, “Yeah, these are fine. Thanks.”

You clapped your hand together cheerfully, “Okay, great! Sorry, I threw out all of my ex’s old stuff that he left, but you probably wouldn’t want to wear anything that douche owned, anyway.”

He nodded and watched as you gestured back to the bathroom.

“I left a new toothbrush in the bathroom by the way. And you can use my shampoo and body wash, I don’t mind! But you’ll probably smell like a florist by the time you get out, so just beware.”

Steve grinned, shrugging his shoulders, “Nothing I’d rather smell like — oh! Robin’s still on the phone by the way.” He looked down at the device, slight static that could be heard as you nodded.

“Can I talk to her for a bit?” You asked, walking over to take his spot on the couch.

He nodded and tucked the items under his arm as he began walking backwards towards the bathroom, “Tell her I said goodnight.”

“Will do.” You saluted, taking his previous spot on the couch as he spun around and headed into the bathroom.

“Robs?” You picked up the phone, bringing it to your ear.

“My favorite person in the entire world, hi! Sorry the rest of us couldn’t make it tonight. It was a whole thing with half the kids running late, Eddie not driving fast enough, then the road closed. Total chaos, but we’ll make it to the next one for sure!”

Her voice bursted with energy, excitement, and sincerity despite the late hour of the night, but you wouldn’t expect anything less from her. For some reason, she was always energized and ready to go, something you secretly wished you had too.

You giggled, shaking your head with a fond smile on your face, “Don’t even worry about it, I totally understand! And if it makes you guys feel better, it means a lot that you guys even remembered to come in the first place… it means a lot — more than you’ll ever know.”

“Stop! Don’t get all sappy on me because I don’t know if I’ll be able to take it without crying!” Robin warned with a sense of warmth laced in her comical tone.

You giggled again, playing off her teasing, “No, don’t you dare cry! You can’t cry when I’m not there to hug you and make it all better.”

She sighed dramatically, “Fine! I’m saving my tears for when you’re here to hold me and bless me with a homemade dessert.”

“Good, let’s keep it that way. I really missed you guys tonight.” You confessed, resting your head back on the couch as you could hear her apologetic sigh on the other side.

“We did too, but Steve told me you guys went out for dinner and he even danced with you?”

You hummed contentedly, “Yeah, he asked me to dance and it was great… the food and the dancing, duh.”

“Did he step on your toes?” She couldn’t resist taunting, knowing Steve wasn’t the best at footwork and probably skimped out on the deets of how he definitely stepped on your toes.

You laughed heartily and shook your head despite her not being able to see you, “God no, but I’m pretty sure I kinda scuffed up his Nikes.”

“He’s got a few more pairs at home. He’ll live.” She quipped, making the both of you laugh before she continued.

“Sooo did anything happen? Yenno besides dancing? Kissing perhaps?” Her voice was low and teasing, probing for more juicy details of the night.

Your eyes widened, feeling a slight blush creeping on your cheeks not wanting for Steve to stumble out on a conversation like this.

You cupped your hand over the receiver, eyes glued to the hallway to make sure he wasn’t going to come out of the bathroom anytime soon as you whispered.

“Jesus, no! W-we just dance and… sorta held hands while doing so but—”

Robin cheerfully interjected, happy that things were finally getting a move on with you and Steve, “Progress. We love to see it!”

“I thought we agreed on friends—” You started, before she quickly cut you off again and dismissed the thought of you and Steve just being friends.

“Yeah, whatever, be delusional and blind if you want. Just don’t act so surprised when the day finally comes when you both wake up and get together already.”

“You know, you’re so lucky that I love you.” You sighed half heartedly, half thankful and half terrified of her friendly meddling.

She gasped dramatically, holding a hand over her heart, “We’re already in the “I love you” stage? This is the fastest I’ve moved with a girl who isn’t even my girlfriend.”

“Well, consider me the first to say it after a few weeks, because it’s true. I love you… and all of your delusions.” You declared proudly, truly feeling that Robin was your platonic soulmate that you had been searching for since forever.

“I’m honored and I love you too! Speaking of “I love you’s”, do you love me enough to let me and the gal pals take a visit to Roane tomorrow?”

You thought for a minute, shrugging to yourself as you didn’t have much going on and it would be nice to have a girl’s day. After all, Max and El had been talking about wanting to explore Roane, and Nancy and Robs just wanted more quality time with you.

“Yeah, that’s fine, but I don’t have anything baked or prepared, but I can probably whip somethi—”

“Nancy and I got it covered! Just be up and ready. Let’s saaaayy around ten?” She assured you, clearly excited and ready for the visit.

“Okay, sounds like a plan, but I should probably go now. I still have to set up Steve’s bed for tonight, which is the couch—” you explained, ready to say your goodnights to her before being cut off again.

“You could always let him sleep in your bed?” she teased, earning a chuckle and eye roll from you.

“Okay, that’s it, I’m hanging up! Goodnight and I love you again.”

There were kissy sounds on her end, making you giggle before she spoke,“Night Night! Don’t forget protection and I’ll see you tomorrow…Oh! and tell Steve I said don’t let the bedbugs bite!”

“Night, Robs!” You said one last time before ending the call and looking forward to actually seeing her in person tomorrow along with the other gals.

Heading towards the small storage closet that housed plenty of household items, you grabbed a few things Steve would need for the night. An extra throw pillow and two blankets, a thicker one to keep him warm, and a thinner one to layer over the top if it got colder during the night.

You removed the decorative pillows that took up space on the already cramped couch, hoping it would magically make the space bigger to fit him. You fluffed up the throw pillow to the best of your ability, not wanting him to catch a cramp in his neck from the uncomfortable sleeping position. Not bothering too much with the blankets, you left them folded on the end of the couch, letting him decide how he wanted his makeshift bed to be for the night.

Still, even with the useless pillows thrown to the floor, the couch itself still looked too small for Steve. He was taller than you and the couch just barely housed your body when you laid straight on it. Though most times you would have to curl yourself into a ball to not feel so cramped.

Now you were really regretting just getting the damn couch for the looks rather than the spaciousness, but you had no idea years ago that a nearly 6 foot guy would be staying over the night. You were debating on just convincing Steve to take your room, knowing he’d have a much better night’s rest on your bed, so much so that you hadn’t realized that the bathroom door had creaked open.

“Why are you looking at your couch like that?” Steve’s amused voice broke through your anxious thoughts.

Turning your head over your shoulder, you were met with the sigh of Steve Harrington clad in only the gray sweatpants you had lent him. The top half of his body was exposed to your eyes and the four walls of the apartment that would most definitely never forget the sight. 

“Umm, I uh, sorry… what did you say?” You stammered, feeling your cheeks turn red with embarrassment.

You were sure you looked like a tomato, eyes tightly shutting and trying to erase the image of him shirtless so you could stop acting like such a schoolgirl, however the freckles that sat across his skin were engrained in your mind — never could be wiped out. 

He chuckled, arms instinctively wrapping across his chest to conceal bits of him, as if that would make it less awkward than it already was. 

“It’s cute…” he remarked casually, brushing over your original question.

You opened your eyes slowly, a confused look plastered on your face because while you were totally distracted by his body, you knew for a fact he didn’t say anything about something being cute. 

“Huh?” 

He shrugged his shoulders, jutting his chin in the air towards you, “When you get all blushly.” 

You gulped, running your hand over your neck and collarbones, feeling the heat radiating off your body.

“I…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare, but you were kinda just standing right there and I didn’t expect to see you looking like that.” You paused, watching his brow raise jokingly before you backtracked and stumbled upon more word salad. 

“Wait no, that’s not what I meant. I didn’t mean like that, in a bad way, but I meant like that in a ‘holy crap, I didn’t know Steve had so many moles and freckles’ kinda way.” 

Steve smiled, biting back for it to cover his entire face, knowing it would make you even more blushier and though he found it endearing he didn’t want to tease you for it. 

“They are kinda everywhere, huh?” He settled, looking down at his arms and inspecting the beauty marks that covered the expanse of it. 

You nodded, resisting the urge to count how many he had alone on his left shoulder alone, and the hair that sprawled over his chest, “Y-yeah, everywhere.” 

Steve didn’t let a second of silence go to waste, referring back to the original question he had asked you. 

“I asked you why you were looking at the couch that way.” 

Turning your head back at it, you gestured towards the length of the couch, sighing heavily before letting out a weak laugh. 

“There’s no way this is going to be comfortable for you, Steve. You’re like a tall giant and when I nap on here, I curl myself up like a worm in order to fit on it.”

He tsked, giving you a shake of his head before going around you and plopping stomach down onto the couch. Steve tries his best to look comfortable, though you can’t mistake the way he’s bending his knees and squeezing his shoulders in to fit on the piece of furniture. 

You giggled, settling on the floor and crossing your legs as you sat within eyesight of him. Your hand moved up to your head, removing the towel from your hair as you squeezed the fabric between your ends to soak up the remaining water as he watched.

“Steve, just take my bed tonight, please?” 

He closes his eyes, humming out a “Nuh uh.” 

“You’re going to wake up with horrible back pain tomorrow.” You warned voice lifting to something that was almost chiding. 

Yet he remained rigid, peeking his eyes open and shaking his head against the cushions, “I’m not taking your bed and if it makes you feel better I’ve slept on worse. Mike Wheeler’s dusty basement carpet, for example.” 

You scrunched your face up in disgust, nose instantly sniffling at the thought as Steve chuckled and maneuvered his palm under his chin to watch you. 

“I’d probably have a sneezing fit.” You mumbled under your breath.

He nodded, “I practically sneezed myself to sleep that night, but hey, it was better than being home with my parents there.” 

You grimaced, bunching your damp towel in your lap as you played with the fabric, wondering if you could ask him a question about his personal life. Sure, you had shared things with him, but you never wanted him to feel like he owed you part of his life just because you did.

Still you asked with caution and softness, “Sorry, if this is crossing a line, but… do you know when your parents get back in town or do they just show up unannounced?” 

He gave you a reassuring smile, swiping away the hesitance on your face that was scared you were going too far. And while Steve had told you a bit about his tumultuous relationship with his parents, you weren’t quite sure if he would be open to talking about it more – his perspective and everything. 

Usually he wasn’t, but with you he felt like he could. 

“Usually I can guess when they’re leaving and coming home. My dad has a lot of business trips and conferences during the summer. They host them at fancy hotels and resorts and my mom likes mingling with the other wives that go.” 

He explained and you nod, bringing your knees up to your chest and resting your chin on the caps as you continue to listen. 

“Yeah, so, in the summer they’re gone for like a week, then they come home for a few days. But during the day my dad is at the office and my mom hangs out with her lady friends so I can usually avoid them, but it’s harder to do at night… y’know ‘cause where else is my mom and dad going to sleep right?” 

He laughed uncomfortably, trying to make a joke out of it, which you totally understood because of the stipulations of him living under his parents’ roof and all, but still you knew that his home didn’t feel like home to him — at least not when his parents were there.

“And that’s why you prefer sleeping in Mike’s prehistoric basement, to avoid seeing them.” You speculated, but more so landed on the dot with.

He nodded, a tightlipped smile at how easily you saw through it and how you probably understood why he jumped at the offer at staying at your place tonight rather than going home and having to deal with running into his mom and dad.

Steve felt like, for the first time, he could go on and on about him, not terrified of making his family sound horrible, knowing it was embarrassing enough, but with you he knew you came with no judgment.

“I know it sounds crazy. Like why I can’t just suck it up and face them, but it’s so weird and dehumanizing. I can just tell that they’re judging me. I’m the only son they have and here I am still selling tapes at Family Video while my dad manages his own firm–” 

“But you’re happy, right?” You didn’t mean to cut him off so suddenly, but you knew that this was the most important question of them all.

He furrowed his brows, staring at you confused before spitting out an answer, “Happy? I mean…it’s kinda difficult always trying to evade my parents, but it does kinda feel like I’m a secret agent sneaking into a Russian base trying to get my uniform at seven in the—” 

You couldn’t help but interject again with a giggle, “I meant happy working at Family Video. You’re happy there, right?” 

His smile grew wider despite misinterpreting your question for the second time around, but still you didn’t grow irate with him, just patient and more than happy to ask again and that alone made him feel no judgment and embarrassment alone.

“Oh! Well yeah, I guess at first it was a little boring, but after Robin and I started to get the groove of it, now it just feels like we’re hanging out and doing chores to pass time. And we get to watch movies and eat in the backroom snack bar.” 

You smiled, lifting your shoulders up and letting them relax back down, happy with the sight of Steve in front of you. Sure, you knew that his parents were really hard on him, but he was the person who had to face it every day. Yet seeing him talk about how happy he was working with his best friend, that made up for a piece of the sadness that you could still tell was gnawing at him.

You weren’t sure if you could solve it, and you were sure that you couldn’t, but you could at least make it better for him.

“So who cares what your parents think? You’re happy and it’s working out for you, so what’s the big deal? Is daddy mad that his son doesn’t want to carry on his business legacy?” 

Steve laughed, a genuine laugh that he half stifled into the pillow before settling his cheek on it and shaking his head with a smug smirk.

“Oh, he’d jump for joy the day I put on a suit and walk out the house with a briefcase up my ass.” 

There was laughter in the air again, a sort of connection that was made purely off of the both of you opening up about something so deep and personal. In the diner it was him comforting you and here in your living room it was you being there for him in a way that no one else could.

It’s not that he didn’t want to open up to Robin or the rest of his friends about it, and truth be told they already knew. They knew that Steve had a rocky relationship with his parents, and Steve never hid it, but he did stray away from talking about it because why would he need to in the first place?

After all he had friends, true friends that cared about him the way that he wished his parents did, and he cared about them the way he always wanted to be appreciated for. Not tolerated just because his mom and dad were purely his blood, but celebrated because he found people who loved him in a way he didn’t think was possible.

But enough was enough for Steve. There was only so much he could hold in and after years of suppressing it and trying to act like it didn’t phase him the way it did when he was a teenager, it was now time to confront it and let it pass here…with you.

You settled from your laughter, slowly watching as Steve did the same, wrapping his arms over the pillow and propping his head up slightly supporting his chin.

You purse your lips, your fingers drawing circles on your knee as you spoke to him, “I know what it’s like. Unsupportive people and whatever, but you gotta just stick to it and they’ll back off eventually…or you can leave. Start a new chapter without them.” 

He seemed to ponder your words for a second before replying, “Is that what you did?”

With a knowing smile, you shrugged, “Yeah, I guess you could call packing up and leaving without telling anyone would count.” 

“That sounds like the dream.” He sighed, closing his eyes at the thought of packing up and running away to start his life without his parents in his.

You could tell he was thinking of it, dreaming up the thought of a life where he could live it the way he pleased without trying to please his mom and dad. You used to do the same thing, waiting for the day to finally get the courage to live your life and dreams unapologetically, without the weight of your ex that would only make you feel less than.

Instinctively, your hand reached out and softly tapped on his hand, prompting him to open his eyes and stare at yours resting upon his before meeting your eyes.

“It’s really nice, and hey, if you ever need a place to stay, you’re always welcomed here. I just can’t promise a comfier couch next time, but I can assure you I vacuum and mop the floors weekly.” You offered graciously.

“Thanks, that’s really nice of you.” Steve replied, the gratitude and sincerity evident in his voice.

Your thumb moved over his knuckles warmly, feeling the pulse point of his vein before retracting, “Of course, and thanks for today. Showing up and giving me a ride. It really means a lot.” 

Part of Steve wished you kept your hand there, knowing it was the thing that was keeping him grounded here with you, like a promise that you would keep forever. Instead, he settled for a smile, maneuvering his body and sitting upright to see you clearly.

“Yeah, no problem. I had a blast, and I’d love to come to the next one, whenever that might be. I’ll make sure everyone is on time this time around.” 

You grinned, standing up and throwing your damp towel over your shoulder, “I’ll let you turn in for the night, and please, don’t hesitate to wake me up before you leave.” 

“And ruin your beauty sleep?” He joked, standing up and holding his arms out towards you.

You giggled, shaking your head as you walked into the frame nuzzling your face into his warm chest and feeling his warmth envelope you. His bareness left little imagination to your sense of feeling, but just as you suspected, his skin was soft and the fuzz on his chest tickled your neck in a comforting way that you didn’t want to shake off.

Taking a deep breath of him in, and feeling his arms tighten around you, you whispered loud enough for him to hear, “Nighty night, Steve.” 

“Goodnight, sweet thing.” He replied in a soft murmur, his fingers leaving indents in the small of your back where he hugged you tightly before releasing and letting you go.

You had to find it in you, to finally pull away, giving him one around smile before you turned on your heel and headed towards your bedroom. The slight ruffling of the blankets and his body moving against the cushions as background noise on your short walk to the door before you took one last glance back and saw him smile at you, fingers ready to pull on the lampshade to turn the place dim.

Your fingers twiddled at him, before you finally shut your door, and only then did you hear the click of the lamp, darkening the rest of the apartment as you threw your towel into the hamper.

Slipping beneath your covers and turning to tuck your face into your pillow is where you finally let out a squeal – one that you had been holding back for the entire night. 

Steve had made you feel things, maybe things not so foreign because after all crushes were a normal part of life, but he made you feel a kind of way where the light bulb in your head lit up and stayed on when you were around him. Almost like a constant realization that he was always so good – good to you and good to everyone else in his life. 

He never wanted or asked you to change, but just wanted you to see things through in a way that would benefit you for the better. You never knew what this was like, accustomed to feeling like you had to shapeshift into being something that was pleasing for men, yet here you were not being asked for that by Steve. Just being asked to be nicer to yourself, because he knew you were worthy and capable of it.

Something in you was holding on to each and every single one of his words, hoping that he meant it in a way that was more. More than friends. More than everything that you believed you two were just destined to be. 

A sweet thing. Something so sweet that only you wanted with him, yet didn’t know if you could have. A kind of sweetness that could only be dreamt up in your wildest dreams.

And so dream you did, of the sweet things you and Steve could be in another world.

A word where you and him would switch off weekends at each other’s homes.

A world where you would stop in at Family Video just because you missed him.

A world where you could pick up the phone and hear his voice on the other line because he wanted to see what you were doing.

A world where you two would take turns washing dishes and drying.

A world where you could sit in your living room or a half empty diner and just talk without being afraid.

A world where it was just you two against whatever obstacle that you both were facing.

A sweet, sweet, sweet world where it was you and Steve, hand in hand, chest to chest, lips to—

“Wakey wakey, gorgeous! You forgot to set your alarm, didn't you?”

Your eyes snapped out, instantly letting out a shout as you saw Robin hover above you with your alarm clock in her hands. She flinched, stepping back and giving you room to breathe as you sat up and caught your breath.

“Robin, what the hell! How did you even get in here…and what time is it?” You gathered your comforter closer to your chest, closing your eyes and sighing, not believing this was real.

She shrugged her shoulders, placing your alarm clock back on the bedside table before plopping back first at the end of your bed and turned her head towards you.

“Max apparently has a talent for picking locks, and it’s almost a quarter to ten. We were going to just wait outside until you woke up, but I almost had a heatstroke out there so breaking and entering it was.”

Despite the suddenness of it all, you couldn’t help but close your eyes and let out a laugh as you fell back into your pillows. You definitely forgot to set your alarm last night and the last thing you wanted was your friends who drove all the way here to be waiting outside in the hot Indiana heat.

You felt Robin crawl up the space and settle beside you, her hands resting on the pillow where she laid her head as she smiled at you cheekily, “Not mad are you?”

You shook your head and bopped her nose before she crinkled it, “Nope! But you do owe me by making my bed.”

She groaned, stuffing her face in the pillows as you got up and stretched your arms out wide feeling the tension release in your limbs as you walked out of your room and headed to the living room to greet everyone else while Robin’s groans died down.

Max and El, sat on your couch flipping through comics. The blankets that Steve had used the night before neatly folded and placed on the arm of the furniture. Meanwhile, Nancy moved across the kitchen table setting out plates and utensils keeping to herself and knowing where everything was it seemed.

“Morning, pretty ladies.” You greeted, watched their eyes fall on your less than sleepy and surprised state.

El popped up from the couch first, easily clinging to your side with a hug, “Good morning! Sorry we had to break in, but Robin was dehydrated.”

You grinned, draping your arms around her and hugging her warmly before she pulled away, “We can’t have our dear Robin dying of dehydration can we?”

“Definitely not, especially not before she gets the inside scoop on you and Steve’s date last night.” Max chimed in, giving you a side hug as you rolled your eyes playfully and pushed her shoulder gently.

“It was not a date!” You retorted making your way to the kitchen to greet Nance who was smiling to herself as she still set the table.

You wrapped your arms around her shoulders, bringing her to a stop as she threw her head back and hugged you tightly, “Sorry about breaking and entering… but Robin and I brought some breakfast so I hope it helps!”

You looked over her shoulder, seeing the take out boxes of pancakes, link sausages, toast, and other goodies that they had picked up from a place in Hawkins.

“This totally makes up for it, and I’ll just give you guys a copy of my key. That way, no more breaking and entering and then you guys can bring me breakfast forever!”

“Sounds like a better idea than picking the lock every time,” she quipped pulling away from the hug, “do you have any orange juice, by chance?”

“Yeah, I’ll grab it, no worries,” You said heading towards the fridge and going to open it, before you noticed the bright yellow post-it that stuck to the appliance.

Messy and rushed handwriting filled the small square and your fingers ripped it off, reading it to yourself…

Thanks again for letting me spend the night, it means a lot! Didn’t want to leave before you got up, but I promised Eddie I’d help him and his uncle Wayne with something at their trailer.

Anyway, I hope you don’t mind that I started the washer with the pair of sweats you lent me and I left the top that you forgot at my place folded on the dryer. I also woke up early and got a honey rose latte, and you were right, it tastes heavenly. I asked them to make yours with almond milk and no ice, and I left it on the second shelf in the fridge. Managed to snag a dozen of those cronuts and I left them in the microwave to keep them warm. Hope you don’t mind that I took the blueberry one.

Enjoy, and I hope we see each other soon, sweetheart.

- Steve &lt;3

There was a wide smile on your face, stupidly reading his words over and over again and hyper-fixating on him remembering your milk of choice and the tiny crooked heart drawn next to his name.

Steve Harrington didn't seem real at all, someone that you could only think up to be that perfect and attentive to small details. And no guy would ever go as far as this for you, but there you were opening the fridge to see your favorite latte sitting on the second shelf of your fridge and when you turned to look at the microwave, you could see through the transparent glass, the bakery box that held the delectable treats in.

You probably looked just as silly, frozen in your kitchen staring at a piece of paper and smiling to yourself like a maniac. It was only a few more seconds until Robin came sliding in next to you, creeping over your shoulder.

“Oooo, did the lover boy leave a note!” Robin wiggled her brows, attempting to peek at the note before you quickly clutched it to your chest for safe keeping.

You blushed, and turned on your heel, grabbing the orange juice and your drink and placing it on the table, “That is a secret that will not be revealed!”

“He did!” The younger girls shouted from the couch as you blushed and shook your head

“I’m going to go brush my teeth and then I’ll be out!” You called out, walking back to your room with the note still in the palm of your hand.

“Then you’re going to spill the date details!” Robin shouted, pouring orange juice into the glasses.

You could hear Nancy jokingly scolding Robin, “Give her a break, will you?”

Quickly, you slipped into your quaint laundry room on the other side of the hallway where the slight rumbling from the washing machine was beginning to slow down. There was your white eyelet top that you had worn and left behind the first time at Steve’s place sitting folded on the washer with another note placed on the top of it.

Forgot to give this to you the last time I was here. I read the label and the machine washed it in cold water then put it in the dryer on low. Hope I didn’t ruin it or anything!

- Steve :)

You picked up the garment, assessing it and seeing that the stain was fully gone and instead it was perfectly clean and now reeking of everything, Steve. The sandalwood, mint, freshness, and warmth — everything him. The scent filling your senses and going back to the hug you two shared last night, wishing it were his arms wrapped around you again.

Now you definitely knew what you were going to be wearing today and who was going to be running through your mind — even if this was your town and your place, he had already left a mark too big and permanent for you to erase. 

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: chapter two is finally here!!! originally this chapter was supposed to be longer but for organization and trying to avoid lag purposes, i decided to shorten it a bit and save the next major scene for the next chapter! again, i have to say a big big big thank you to my bestie and ultimate favorite person everrrrr...MISS EFFIE!!! she's amazing and she is constantly encouraging me to write and helping me with proofreading and setting up the storylines itself! i love her so so so much (I LOVE YOU EFFIE BABYYYYY)!!!

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @scoopshxrrington @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss

#munsonsreputation #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve x y/n #steve x reader #steve stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington angst #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fandom #steve harrington x y/n fluff #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x fem!baker #steve harrington x fem!artist #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things fluff #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader #stranger things #steve harrington x taylor swift #stranger things x taylor swift #taylor swift x stranger things

[intheholler]

Hi, I was looking something up and thought you might like to know, if you didn't already- at one point in the mid-20th century there were so many Appalachians migrating to cities for work that Cincinnati saw fit to make it illegal to discriminate against people of Appalachian origin (and even had to maintain a document of counties in the Eastern US which counted as "Appalachian origin" lol). I suppose people's dialect was causing them to be discriminated against so harshly that something had to be done about it. As someone bred in Appalachia who lived in Cincinnati for a few years as a child and has family there still, in find it interesting.

holy shit! i had no idea!

Sec. 914-1-A1. - Appalachian Regional Origin. "Appalachian regional origin" shall mean birth or ancestral origin from that area of the eastern United States consisting of the counties listed in an Appalachian Regional Origin Document which shall be maintained on file with the Clerk of Council. (Ordained by Ord. No. 490-1992, eff. April 7, 1995)

i find this incredibly interesting, and also kinda validating. like, just the way we talk is such a barrier in people taking us seriously, and once, it was so blatantly apparent that an actual law was enacted to stop it? whoa.

i was reading a little more about it and found this really interesting article about appalachian dialect/discrimination from the appalachian journal of law!

Perhaps most noteworthy, their culture honors the oral tradition.[6] They find pride in their speech. In fact, the very way Appalachians speak is directly tied to their heritage and sense of identity.[7] Accent serves as an identifier for other Appalachians, i.e., the insider group, and outsider groups, i.e., non-Appalachians.[8] Despite their cultural distinction, Appalachians are a forgotten, invisible minority, in part, because it is their accents, rather than their physical appearance, in which they differ from mainstream Americans.[9]  However, language is “a powerful automatic signaling device second only to race to identify targets for possible privilege or discrimination.”[10] Like other minority groups, Appalachians have had their identity stolen and manipulated by outsiders.[11]  The Appalachian accent, known by some as “mountain speak,” has been interpreted as signaling undesirable and distorted traits. Appalachians are routinely stereotyped as “ignorant, lazy, uneducated, and incestuous . . . .”[12] Appalachian linguistic differences have led to economically harmful discrimination.[13] In fact, “Appalachians are statistically one of the most exploited and marginalized [sic] groups in America.”[14] However, courts have refused to protect them from hate-fueled and egregious discrimination.

a snippet of the intro. its so validating, all of this official conversation on it?

thanks so much for bringing the notion to my attention omg <3

#asks #fav #appalachian dialect #appalachian culture #classism

[antikate]

I genuinely think romance is a deeply underrated genre that is sneered upon because of its associations with femininity; I think it’s utopian and hopeful and worthwhile and I crave good romance stories. At the same time I hate most romance novels that I try to read.

I had Covid this week and for a few days was too sick to even look at a book or screen so I downloaded a bunch of audiobooks from the library and I gave up on every single one of them:

1. Notorious by Minerva Spencer. I noped out of this a few pages in when one character was described as delectable and luscious and another character’s eyes were described as orbs. The book also comes with a whole heaping of misogyny and Islamophobia apparently.

2. Georgie All Along by Kate Clayborn. The first ??? 20 ??? Or so pages of this book consist of the heroine back in her home town and going into a deli to order a coffee and not having enough money to pay for it because she left her wallet in the car. 20 pages!!! It’s humiliating and is literally like being stuck in the head of the most neurotic person you’ve ever met. Page after page of this woman ruminating about what a loser she is. Exhausting! And I say this as someone who can ruminate at the Olympic level.

3. Pretty Pretty Boys by Gregory Ashe. This one is an m/m series about two cops who fall in love and I had hopes that it might be solid but the characterization was basically “whatever the author felt like writing”. Also the cops act like cops as in they’re abusive to random people and spend a lot of time being horrible, which I don’t really need in a romance.

4. Not Your Average Hot Guy, Gwenda Bond. Idk this was just. A bit? Boring? Also everyone was just a bit too self consciously sassy. The heroine runs an escape room but one of her props turns out to be actually a demonic book. I think one of my issues with this book and so many other romance novels is that banter is a real skill and most people can’t write it. But everyone, regretfully, tries.

5. Liar City, Allie Therin. There’s this one audiobook narrator who has such a snotty voice that I just cannot. This book might have been great but the instant I started listening I knew it was that dude. Maybe I’ll try it as an actual book.

6. The Blacksmith Queen by GA Aiken. This is one of the worst books I’ve ever tried to read. Truly. The heroine is a blacksmith and the hero is a centaur, which I thought sounded fun (also I was wondering how they’d have sex because I’m like that) but it was … puerile? Astonishingly stupid?

7.Capture the Crown, Jennifer Estep. This is also an absolutely idiotic book. The hero has amethyst eyes and the heroine has some other gem coloured eyes and someone else has sapphire eyes and if you took a shot every time it someone’s eye colour was described as a jewel tone you’d be hospitalised for alcohol poisoning by about page four.

8. A taste of gold and iron, Alex Rowland. This is decently written - as in the prose is solid - but the plot is half baked, the characters are tedious, and the world building is intriguing but paper thin. I’d say it’s a much better book than most here, but I still couldn’t bring myself to finish.

Not everything I’d read lately has been terrible so here’s some romance or romance adjacent books I have actually enjoyed:

1. The Heart Principle by Helen Hoang: This book is not going to change your life but it does what sets out to do with a slight if entertaining love story.

2. The Secret Lives of County Gentlemen, KJ Charles: I think Charles is one of the best and smartest historical romance writers I’ve ever read. Her books are everything I want out of romance: the characters are interesting, idiosyncratic, and sympathetic; the details feel right; the stories work; and the sex scenes are both hot and do important plot and character work. Her books are swoony and emotional and feel very real while still being romantic. (The audio narrator of this let it down a little because he took a lot of odd pauses but I’m being super nitpicky.)

3. A Far Wilder Magic, Allison Saft: This is a sweet YA novel set in an interesting fantasy world - I really enjoyed the prickly heroine and her dog.

4. In Memoriam, Alice Winn: This beautiful, heart-rending novel is not exactly a romance - it’s set during WW1 and has very explicit and realistic scenes set in the trenches. The trauma and suffering of the war are achingly portrayed. But it is a love story between two young soldiers, even if it’s not necessarily one with an easy or simple ending. Highly recommend with the caveat that Winn does not shy away from the brutality and senselessness of WW1.

5. Thornhedge, by T Kingfisher: This is a brief but resonant Sleeping Beauty retelling. Not exactly a romance but also not unromantic. My only complaint is that I wanted more. I’m a big T Kingfisher fan, and I adore her practical, earthy characters (like Toadling).

6. We Could Be So Good, Cat Sebastian: I’m here for everything Sebastian writes. Her books are low stakes but still compelling, her characters are likeable and complex, I actually enjoy her banter, and she has a knack for capturing historical details and moments. Her conflicts never feel fake and the resolutions are always earned.

#book reviews #books #from the trenches of Covid #complaining about romance novels #the author is open to recommendations

[saintjosie]

can i ask how you cope with the transphobia fear, im a trans man and im white so i know realistically that im at a lower risk than my sisters and espc those of color but... i feel like im just terrified to leave my house. ive been hatecrimed twice when i was a lot earlier along in my transition but im pretty passibly cis now. i dont want to hide my transness but anytime the word trans is on the news or in an article theres just this instant ourpouring of hate. i live in a city next to a super conservative county and i just dont leave my city anymore. i dont even wang to leave my apartment. any advice?

first off, there isn’t really a point that being a trans person in the world gets less scary. in fact it feels like it’s getting scarier all the time. but it does get easier!

there’s a cheesy quote that says something along the lines of “courage isn’t not being afraid but rather facing your fear”. and that’s pretty fuckin good advice especially when it comes to being a trans person.

one of the best ways to combat that fear is by finding community in other queer and trans people and other people who understand and value you for who you are. being around people like that allows you to be authentically yourself. and the more time you spend being authentically yourself around other people and out in the world, the more your confidence grows.

the bad news is that to find those people and to build that confidence you’re kinda just gonna have to do it, even if it’s incredibly uncomfortable for awhile. i promise you tho, it does get a hell of a lot easier.

hope this helps!

[bobby-r2d2-floyd]

back in town (rhett abbott x reader)

authors note: hey guys! it feels like 30 years but i finally have the second part of life goes on (read part one here if you want!) i feel like this can be read as a stand alone, or as a continuation. im thinking only a one more part to this?

warnings: language, mentions of panties, mentions of rhett getting a boner towards the end, maria and rhett kissing, sibling violence? (a pillow gets thrown at some ones head)

not proof read well, no beta we die like men in this

word count: 2.5k

------------

It’s been almost 10 years since you last stepped foot into Amelia County, and not a damned thing has changed except that some stores have closed down. 

You still remember the morning dew on your skin your last night in town, and how Rhett’s arm felt draped over you as the sun was just beginning to rise over the mountain tops. 

After dropping out of art school you bounced around from major city to major city all up and down the east coast. You worked at a couple of art galleries, you had enough experience to get by but since you dropped out just before graduation, you never quite became the curator anywhere; but that was okay with you. Three years you spent in Chicago, wasting your time. Your heart was never in it, it was stuck here in Wabang with a certain Abbott boy and, yeah, you were good at what you did but you never saw yourself doing art as a career, it was always your dad’s dream for you. You wanted to be in the rodeo shows, you were a decent roper, dappled in barrel racing, cutting.. Never brave enough for the bulls, though, that was always Rhett’s thing. So when you happened to be passing through Kentucky, you thought ‘what the hell’ and sought out the arena director and asked if there was anything that you could do to help out and as luck would have it, they needed a barrel racer after one of the other girls broke her collarbone and required surgery. 

It was like the rodeo gods or whoever was up there was smiling down on you that day, you knew that they didn’t just take people off the street, and that most people had to work for spots to even be considered, but it was a smaller rodeo, not one of the large ones that you would see televised from a big city. Despite it being years since you were in the saddle, you finished in third place for the night.

You toured around with them for years before moving up to a bit bigger of a rodeo, and that rodeo happened to land you in Montana, and then Colorado before finally dumping off in Cheyenne, Wyoming.

You took the day before it was due to start to go back home, see your mom and siblings. They’d be 16 and 18 soon, hard to believe you left them when they were still just kids, you missed a ton of milestones for them, only discussing them over facetime and the one time they were able to make it out to Chicago for Christmas one year. 

You celebrated grades and puberty and boyfriends and girlfriends from across the United States. You wanted nothing more than to hug your baby sister when she got her first period at 10 years old, 2 whole years before you even had yours, and when she went through her first heartbreak at 15; gave the bastard everything because he convinced her that he loved her. You hated that you weren’t there to help your mom out when your brother was going through his destructive phase.

You walk in the front door to your house, surprised that your mom hasn’t been robbed yet and you let out a small laugh, “mama?” you call out, shutting the storm door behind you so the wind wouldn’t take it away when it tried to self shut. You don’t get an answer so you continue the trek across your house, stopping occasionally and listening if anyone was even home, it wasn’t uncommon for your mom to leave the door unlocked when no one was home, your closest neighbors were the Abbott’s and even they lived about 2 miles away. 

You walked out to the barn, smiled when your old horse rubbed against your shoulder, “hey boy, where’d everyone go?” you ask as you give him some scratches behind his jaw. Almost as if he understood what you said he turns to look at a flier that was tacked up on the side of the barn door and you let out a laugh. 

Of course the county fair was going on. Your sister used to beg you to take you every single day during the week and you see that that was still the case. You give the gentle giant a couple treats from the feed closet and give them to him before heading out back to the front to the truck you’re renting.

The drive to town was short despite living so far away, you were lucky to find a place to park where you did and you started to make your way in, paying for a ticket and stopping to talk to the few people who remembered you. 

“-for Amelia County’s rodeo royalty, Rhett Abbott!” you hear over the loudspeaker and make your way to the grandstands to watch. “Rhett’s first ride is on Guiness tonight, he’s been on a roll lately, coming out on top every ride for the last 10 rides that he’s done, let’s see if he can make 11.” You perch yourself up against the bars, pulling your Stetson a lower down your face but high enough that you can still see and you watch him go the full 8 seconds on a bull that looked like it was out for blood. You screamed along with the rest of the crowd when he came out on top for the first round of riders. The smile on his face warms your heart, it’s a smile you hadn’t seen since before you left. In all the pictures that your mom had shown you, very few smiles were true Rhett smiles, that smile was saved for when he was winning, on his horse, and with you. You began to walk over to where he was, you couldn’t wait to wrap your arms around him again, you just hoped that he would be excited to see you. 

Just as you were rounding the corner, you stopped dead in your tracks, your heart breaking because of Rhett for the second time. Not even 10 feet in front of you, Rhett had his arms tight around Maria Olivares. The one girl no one could ever compete with, the only other girl Rhett ever had eyes for, aside from you but of course you didn’t know that. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a deep kiss, one that left him completely breathless when he pulled away and he smiled down at her like she had hung the sun.

You backed up slowly, not wanting to bother anyone but of course a different rider had other plans, “watch where the fuck youre going, bitch.'' They spit out and it gets the attention of Rhett and Maria and you mumble out an apology before quickly darting away, wiping your eyes as you make your way back to the truck and out of the fair entirely. 

“Fucking knew that coming back home would be the worst idea.” you mumble as you throw your hair onto the passenger seat. You run your fingers through your hair and pull it up into a messy ponytail before driving back to your mom’s place where you fall asleep on the couch.

“Hey babygirl, why don’ you wake up and go upstairs?” your mom gently shakes you awake and you let out a mumble of a response and she laughs “come on. Wake up or ‘m gonna sic your brother ‘nd sister on you.” 

You groan but sit up anyways, “time is it?” 

“Just after midnight, Rhett came out on top’ah all his rides.” she tells you and you just hum and nod before standing up and stretching. She pulls you in for a long hug and you’re able to relax for the first time in what felt like years.

“Where’s Liv and Jase?” you ask, kicking off your boots finally and head towards the stairs.

“Olivia’s with her girlfriends and Jason’s with some of his football buddies.” she says and you nod and make your way up the stairs, pausing to use the bathroom and brush your teeth before making your way into your room. You can’t be bothered to open the duffle bag your mom must have brought in for you and you strip down to your tank top and panties before crawling into bed and falling into a deep sleep again.

When you awake the next morning it’s abrupt. You can feel someone breathing down on your face and you open your eyes and see Olivia’s brown ones staring right back at you. 

“Mornin.” she says and you groan and kick her off the bed, she laughs the entire way down and you roll over, pulling your blanket over your face and you try to get some more sleep. “C’mon, you gotta wake up, mama’s makin’ a full breakfast.” 

“Get out of my room.” 

“Not ‘til you’re ass it out of-ow! Mama, she’s thrown’ shit again!” Olivia calls and you hear your mom call up the stairs.

“Stop throwin’ shit at your sister! Get down ‘ere and eat your breakfast ‘fore Jason brings the whole team over!” 

“Toss me my jeans, will ya?” you ask, finally sitting up and Olivia throw’s the pants right at your face, “okay, I deserved that.” 

“Yeah, ya did. Why’s this your first time comin’ home in ten years? You didn’t even send an invitation when you graduated…” she says sadly and you sigh.

“Let’s go eat, need to talk to you and mom.” you tell her and she nods and you stand up and pull the jeans on before making your way down stairs. Your mom already has a plate made up for you, just like how you always took it as a kid, extra bacon, sunny side up eggs, and chocolate chip waffles. “Thanks mama,” you kiss her head and move around the kitchen to pour yourself a cup of coffee and orange juice before sitting down at the table.

“So… what have you been doin’ these past few years?” your mom asks as she takes her seat, “any big art jobs?”

“Um, actually I dropped out. A semester before graduation..” you say, not looking up at either of them. 

“Oh?” it’s all your mom can manage out and you nod. 

“Yeah, went through the program and it just… didn’t feel right? I’m uh, actually doing rodeos now. Barrel racing, some cutting.. Been ‘round the country. Make pretty good money for the level that I compete at.” you inform them and your mom looks surprised and your sister who looks angry.

“And did you not think to call? Or.. come back?” 

“Liv, ’m sorry, okay? I know I should have called or come home after leaving school. It’s just… everyone was so proud of me for leaving that it was easier to believe that I graduated than to tell you I didn’t.” you look up at her and she lets out a sigh. 

“I still love you, but that was a bitch more.” she says and you laugh.

“Yeah, it was.” you mom just rolls her eyes and you all fall into an easy conversation about rodeo and how the season is just about over.

“Rhett was invited to compete in Cheyenne this weekend, will you be there?” your mom asks and you nod.

“Yeah I think his event’ll be the last of the night. They usually do the bronco’s then bulls last, I’ll compete somewhere in the middle.” you tell them, leaning back in your chair and you take a sip of your coffee. “How have things been around here?” 

“Well, Perry Abbott went to jail, he and one of the Tillerson’s got in a fight and unfortunately Perry uh… Well the funeral for Trevor was a few years back… I think when you were 23?” Olivia says and you look at her confused.

“No shit..” you say in disbelief. Perry had always been a little strange to you but never kill-a-man strange, “how are the rest of the family?” 

“Well, Amy ran away, right after Perry got arrested.. Royal and Cecelia have been doing the best they can with the ranch. Rhett and Maria took off too shortly after the arrest but came back a year or so ago to help his parents afford to keep the place running. He earned enough from the rodeo business to help keep things afloat a little while longer.” your mom continued and you bite your lip.

“Did they get married or something?” your mom shoots you a knowing look and shakes her head.

“Nope, no marriage, no ring, no surprise babies. Perry’ll be out of jail soon, he was only sentenced for 10 years, he’s served half that already, so there’s always after he gets released.” 

“I should go, get ready and drive back to Cheyenne to make it in time for the rodeo.” you stand from the table and take your dishes to the sink. “You’re more than welcome to come. We have a special seating section where if you tell an usher your family they’ll let you sit in.” 

“We’ll be there honey.” your mom gives you a smile and you ruffle Olivia’s hair.

“Tell Jason he’s invited and can bring a friend.” you say on your way up the stairs and take a quick shower before throwing on clean clothes and heading back downstairs. 

You throw a goodbye and see you later over your shoulder before making your way back to Cheyenne. You manage to dodge Rhett all night, in fact it isn’t even until your name is announced that he knows you’re at the rodeo, let alone in it.

He stood by and watched you, just like you watched him last night. He couldn’t believe he was actually seeing you, for the first time in a decade. He watched until he couldn’t see you anymore and when that happened he made his way back to the horse stalls, walking straight to you as if he had internal guidance right to where you were.

You stood there, taking care removing your saddle and playing it on its rack off to the side. His eyes tracked your every move, taking in every detail about you. Your subtle weight gain in the right places and the loss in the others. Your jeans filled out more than when he last saw you and he hated the immediate reaction his body had, the hot lighting that zipped right down his spine and into his cock. He was shamelessly checking you out, Maria be damned. He watched as you turned and talked to some of the other girls you were up against and they all congratulated you for a great run. 

You finally turn and look his way, your breath catching and he feels a smile form on his face, heart melting at the way you say his name, despite saying it tentatively. 

“Hey.. Rhett.” 

let me know if you want to be added to my rhett abbott taglist or if you would like to be tagged in all of my fics!

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott x reader #outer range #outer range imagine #lewis pullman imagine #lewis pullman x reader #no beta we die like men #robert floyd #bob floyd #robert 'bob' floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd imagine

[spookiifi]

Wrath and Fear (Alt!Gabriel/Reader)

After spinning out of control, you and your friend abandon the car to seek shelter in an abandoned house. What’s the worst that could happen when you’re stuck between Mandela and Bythorne County?

A fair warning that this fic contains gore, body horror, religious themes, manipulation, victim guilt, angst, gaslighting, susbriel being...sus, m.a.d.

I do not condone any relationships in this fic as most of them are incredibly toxic.

I tried to make it as gender neutral as I could

Enjoy the madness and remember, nothing is worth the risk~

ao3 link!

One of the best locations for you and your friends to get stranded was on the highway between Mandela and Bythorne County; Both cities crawling with alternates. Your car’s tires finally gave out and you were lucky to be alive on that icy road.

“It’s two in the fucking morning.” You could hear your friend punch the hood of the car, swearing loudly.

“Causing more damage isn’t going to solve our problem. On my car as well, thanks.” Tugging your heavy coat closer around your body, you joined them in front of the headlights. “We may as well freeze to death since no one’s coming.”

“I mean, I did see a house a few blocks back. It looked pretty vacant. Dry, too.” They glanced at you, then at the ruined vehicle that had a new dent in the hood. “It’s worth a shot.”

“Oh? I thought nothing was worth the risk!” You narrowed your eyes as a blistering wind bit at your face. “I don’t know what’s worse. Freezing to death or being torn apart by alternates.”

“Shut up and start walking.”

So began your journey for shelter.

“It looks decent enough.” A dilapidated house with broken in windows, missing shingles, and a second story. “Minus the windows…and caution tape.”

Oh no. You’d seen this happen way too many times in horror movies. You didn’t get a say in the matter as they dragged you towards the door.

The next thing you know they’ll be saying, “Hey gang, let’s split up!”

“You take the stairs, I take the living room?”

Oh, fuck me sideways.

“Don’t give me that look. Every mirror’s broken, and the tv’s were banned weeks ago. I doubt a musky old house is going to kill us.”

You deadpanned them before sighing loudly. “Fine. But you are so paying for the snacks and drinks during our next 7-11 run.” Snatching the second flashlight from their hand, you marched up the wooden stairs.

This was too cliché. You hated it.

An air conditioning panel caught your eye.

‘Hello, beautiful. Heat, sweet heat.’

The heat could still be working, only one way to find out. Carefully, you reached out one gloved hand to the electric box, only to feel the sting of electricity travel through your hand.

Your flashlight clunked across the floor as you skittered back.

“Bro, you good?! One of the lights just popped!”

“Power surge. I’m fine but my flashlight’s broken.” You hissed in pain, getting to your feet again. “There’s no heat or lighting.”

A shadow moving out of the corner of your eye caught you off guard. Just relax. It’s just your exhausted mind. Yeah, that’s all.

A clap of thunder made you drop to your knees.

“Bro, you good?”

“I said I’m fine! Are you deaf?!”

Laughter that sounded similar to your friend is what you got in response.

You wanted to kick yourself for believing this was actually a good idea. Cursing yourself out wouldn’t help at all, so you high tailed it for the door. Tripping over the shadow that you previously saw earlier, you went plummeting to the floor, splitting your lip open in the process.

“What’s wrong? Scared of the dark?” The dark creature with many eyes spoke in your friend’s voice. Who knew if they were still alive. “Aw, how sad. So tiny and weak.” It reached for your throat, elongated broken fingers inches away from your face.

Alternate food. What a way to go.

By now, you were a sobbing mess. Your ears rang from the static the alternate produced, resorting to tucking your head between your legs like a scared animal. “Just fucking do it, man!” You waited for your demise. “Do it! I don’t care!”

Everything stood still. The static whispering stopped, being replaced with warmth and a bright light.

“There, there. The monster’s gone.” A softer voice broke the silence, resting their hand on your shoulder. “You’re okay, dear.”

What stood in front of you looked like something out of a religious painting. A man with flowing blonde hair knelt down in front of you.

“Am I dead? Did that thing murder me?” You looked around the room for it, only to find a clump of black gel and limbs lying in the corner. Family guy pose His elegant wings covered your view from most of the wreck.

“No, my sweet lamb. I’m sorry you had to endure that...mess.” He gently wiped your tears away. “Thank goodness I reached you in time.” This so-called angel knew your name, and it felt strangely nice to hear it on his tongue. It was as if he were talking to an old friend.

“But this is impossible. I’m not religious in any way.” You glanced up at his towering frame. “You’re…Gabriel? Correct?”

“Quite the scholar, I see.” The one true savior nodded in acknowledgment. “One doesn’t have to be religious to be visited by angels, or archangels.” He chuckled. “All will be explained in time, lamb. I just need one thing from you.”

Gabriel squished your confused face with two fingers. “Simply join me, and you won’t ever live in fear again. I can protect you.”

Your eyes widened. “But my friend downstairs. I have to!-” But Gabriel stopped you from getting up.

“Are they really your friend? They left you to die all alone. In the dark.” His wings practically shielded you from the world. “Think it over. Would a friend treat someone so cruelly? I can save you from this torment, dear.”

“What if the alternates kill them?! Can’t we save them, too?!” You tried to move out of Gabriel’s grip. He glared at you sternly, then his eyes softened.

“It’s too late, lamb. They’re already gone.” He sighed. “I’m sorry it had to be this way.”

“No. It can’t be. I still have time!” You went pale in the face and felt yourself grow light headed. Tears welled up in your eyes again. “I did this. This is all my fault.”

“Do not blame yourself. They brought you here in the first place. Come, now. This is no place for a kind soul like yours.” Gabriel held his arms out, embracing your trembling form. “Don’t cry for the wicked.”

On the inside, the alternate grinned. “I would say they’re in a better place but that’s really not for me to decide. Now, we’re finally together, and that’s all that matters.”

--

Enjoy being his new favorite obsession

#alt gabriel x reader #archangel gabriel x reader #alternate gabriel #archangel gabriel #my fics #the mandela catalogue gabriel #tmc gabriel

[xtruss]

Opinion: Town Sums up the Delusions of the Right Wing

The embrace of the country star’s anti-city ‘modern lynching song’ by Republicans encapsulates their nostalgia and paranoia

— Arwa Mahdawi | July 20; 2023

‘Small towns are full of “good ol’ boys” who were “raised up right”. Cities, meanwhile, are hotbeds of violence … and diversity.’ Photograph: Wade Payne/Invision/AP

Jason Aldean is a country music star and a big fan of law and order. He loves the law so much, in fact, that he’s willing to take it into his own hands.

If you come to his (imaginary) small town and disrespect a cop or engage in any sort of protest, you will regret it.

Such is the theme of Aldean’s new song, Try That in a Small Town, which is all about how the singer and his pals will aggressively deal with unseemly behaviour on their turf. A sample extract: “Cuss out a cop, spit in his face … Well, try that in a small town / See how far ya make it down the road. / Around here, we take care of our own …”

A little later in the song Aldean elaborates further on what might happen if lines are crossed. “Got a gun that my grandad gave me / They say one day they’re gonna round up. / Well, that shit might fly in the city, good luck.” He is, it would appear, referencing a conspiracy theory that the government is going to confiscate Americans’ guns to impose martial law.

Try That in a Small Town was released in May but when the music video came out last Friday it generated immediate controversy. The video leaves little doubt as to what Aldean is trying to communicate: it intersperses footage of him singing in front of Maury county courthouse in Tennessee – the site of the lynching of a Black man, Henry Choate, in 1927 – with footage from protests, looting and civil unrest. Small towns are wholesome, the message is. Full of “good ol’ boys” who were “raised up right”. Cities, meanwhile, are hotbeds of violence … and diversity.

That last bit isn’t spelled out – it’s not like Aldean yells “I’m a massive racist!” in the middle of the track – but the dog whistles are difficult to ignore. The song has been called “a modern lynching song” by detractors and the video was pulled from Country Music Television (CMT) on Monday. (While CMT has confirmed the video was taken off rotation, it hasn’t put out a statement as to why.) Fellow country star Sheryl Crow has also voiced her disapproval. “There’s nothing small-town or American about promoting violence,” Crow tweeted on Tuesday. She further noted that Aldean should know better, “having survived a mass shooting”. Crow was referencing the shooting at Las Vegas’s Route 91 Harvest festival in 2017: the deadliest mass shooting by a lone shooter in modern US history. Aldean was performing and got out unscathed. He was lucky. Sixty people were killed and 867 injured. Those people weren’t killed and injured by a Black Lives Matter protester. They were killed by Stephen Paddock, an angry white man from Iowa.

Try That in a Small Town has generated a lot of criticism, but it also has fervent supporters. Including, of course, GOP lawmakers. “I am shocked by what I’m seeing in this country with people attempting to cancel this song and cancel Jason and his beliefs,” the South Dakota Republican governor, Kristi Noem, posted in a video on Twitter on Wednesday. The Tennessee house GOP leader, William Lamberth, similarly tweeted: “Loved this song since it was released and will continue to fight every day to spread small town values … Give it a listen. The woke mob will hate you for liking this song.” Sarah Huckabee Sanders, the governor of Arkansas, also didn’t miss the chance to stoke a little culture war. “The Left is now more concerned about Jason Aldean’s song calling out looters and criminals than they are about stopping looters and criminals,” she tweeted.

Aldean, for his part, is furious at insinuations there is anything racist in his song about shooting outsiders who come to his little country town.

“In the past 24 hours I have been accused of releasing a pro-lynching song,” Aldean tweeted on Wednesday, “and was subject to the comparison that I (direct quote) was not too pleased with the nationwide BLM protests. These references are not only meritless, but dangerous. There is not a single lyric in the song that references race or points to it – and there isn’t a single video clip that isn’t real news footage.”

If Aldean isn’t trying to make a point about the Black Lives Matter protests, what is Try That in a Small Town about then? Community, apparently. “When u grow up in a small town, it’s that unspoken rule of ‘we all have each other’s backs and we look out for each other,’” Aldean wrote on Instagram when he launched the video. “It feels like somewhere along the way, that sense of community and respect has gotten lost.”

Jason Aldean, from the ‘small town’ of Macon, Georgia. Photograph: Amy Harris/Invision/AP

Perhaps you’re wondering which quaint small town Aldean grew up in. The answer is: he didn’t. Aldean is from Macon, Georgia – a city with a population of about 153,000 people. Now he lives in Nashville, a city with a population of approximately 700,000. The small town he’s singing about is a product of his imagination.

But that’s conservatives for you. Last month Nikki Haley tweeted about how much better the US used to be back in the days before marginalized people had rights. “Do you remember when you were growing up, do you remember how simple life was, how easy it felt? It was about faith, family, and country,” she tweeted.

Was the past really that easy for the former South Carolina governor? By her own admission things have got a hell of a lot better for people who, like her, aren’t 100% white. “Years ago I was disqualified from a pageant because they didn’t know whether to put me in the white category or the black,” she wrote on Facebook in 2012. “I was neither. Tonight I watched my daughter get first place in her school pageant. God has an amazing way of bringing things full circle.” God also has an amazing away of depriving people like Haley of self-awareness.

Aldean’s song doesn’t just epitomize manufactured rightwing nostalgia, it also encapsulates rightwing paranoia. People on the right are obsessed with the idea that big cities are violent hotbeds of crime where you risk your life every time you nip out for a pint of milk. In reality, however, big cities tend to be safer than small towns. A 2013 study by the University of Pennsylvania, for example, found the risk of death from an injury was more than 20% higher in rural small towns than in larger cities. “Cars, guns and drugs are the unholy trinity causing the majority of injury deaths in the US” one of the researchers told NBC News at the time.

The pandemic, to be fair, saw a rise in violent crimes in cities. But even still, you’ve got a better chance of living a long, healthy life in a city. A 2021 US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention report on mortality data from 1999 to 2019 found people living in rural areas die at higher rates than those living in urban areas. That’s because they have less access to healthcare and are more likely to live in poverty.

So what’s next for Aldean? Well, I’ve got some good news for all the Republican lawmakers screeching about how unfair it is that Aldean has been cancelled by the woke mob: he’s going to be fine. Indeed, he’s going to be more than fine. Country music (and America) has a way of opening its arms to people accused of racism and making them feel right at home. Just look at Morgan Wallen, for example. In February 2021 TMZ published a video of the musician drunkenly yelling the N-word during a conversation with a friend. He was shunned from polite society for a few months but made a rapid comeback. He won album of the year at the Academy of Country Music Awards in 2022. His song Last Night is currently in its 14th week at number one on the Billboard Hot 100. If it sticks there a little longer he’ll beat the 19-week record currently held by Lil Nas X’s Old Town Road, featuring Billy Ray Cyrus.

While people on the right may be railing about Aldean being “cancelled”, the sad truth is that this will probably help his career. He’ll go on Fox News and yell about wokeness. He’ll wallow in his imagined victimhood. His song will probably be played in rallies for the next Republican nominee for president. Aldean hasn’t been cancelled or silenced – his message has been amplified.

#Country | Race | Music | US News | Republicans #US Politics | Article | Comment | Arwa Mahdawi #The Guardian USA 🇺🇸