#I also realized the bike is huge but let’s just say it’s Jonathan’s old bike

[silverliing]

“If byler were both girls nobody wou-“ yes they would! as someone who grew up sapphic I would love them even more!

@rainyydazze Ty for putting this in my brain

[yikesharringrove]

Hey love! Was just wondering if you’d be up to do some stonathan fluff times. I love Jonathan and Steve so why not love them together :) if not that’s alright! ❤️❤️❤️

This takes place the summer before Steve’s senior year/Jonathan’s junior year. Basically, Steve is his muse. This is also more angst than I was orignally planning on lol.

“Hey, this is kind of a weird request, but do you think you could get naked?”

Jonathan had been spending the summer taking photography classes at the community college in the city, and had enlisted Steve’s help for his final project, a portfolio capturing a range of seven complex human emotions.

So far, the image for “Joy” was his favorite. He and Steve had gone to the fields at edge of Hawkins, and Steve had rolled down the hill, chased buzzing little bees around in the grass, picked flowers and weaved them into Jonathan’s hair. The final image he had selected was from late in the day. Steve was laying on the grass, soaking in the sun. He had a smudge of dirt on his cheek, his hair messy around his head. He was making shapes in the clouds, this look of pure childlike freedom on his face. It was beautiful.

The one for “Frustrated” was an accident. Jonathan had come to meet Steve at his house, had let himself in and came up to Steve’s room. He was trying to do a summer assignment, pouring over the book his English teacher had selected. That’s when Jonathan learned about the dyslexia, learned about how difficult school was for Steve. He had taken a picture of Steve hunched over the book, his head in his hands, tugging at his hair. And one when Steve had flung the book to the side, caught him with one arm out, the book just about to slap against the wall. Jonathan had placed a hand between his shoulder blades, had told him he’s not stupid.

“Insecure” was Steve standing in his father’s office, on hand trailed on the desk, looking up at the huge painting above the desk, a twelve year old Steve standing uncomfortably with his parents. The Steve in the photograph was biting his lip. Jonathan only noticed how his eyes were shining after the picture was developed.

Jonathan loved the one for “Tired”, he and Steve had stayed up all night for it. He had a lot of Steve from that night, looking sleepy and ruffled, his hair out of place, but the one he had selected for the assignment was him curled like a cat in a large armchair, his head on the armrest, mouth open slightly. Jonathan liked to look at it, thinking about the soft little noises Steve had made as he slept.

“Amazed” was from the Fourth of July. They sat on top of Steve’s roof, watching the fireworks explode over the trees. He took one of Steve in profile, his glasses on, reflecting the fireworks, his eyes bright in the darkness, a tiny smile tugging at his soft lips.

The one for “Disapproving” made him laugh. Taken at the arcade, Steve standing head and shoulders above the kids, one eyebrow raised at Dustin, lips pursed, arms crossed over his chest. The kids had been clamoring for more money, Steve playing hard-ass before he relented and slipped them a tenner. Jonathan remembered lowering his camera, catching Steve’s eye, his heart thumping in his chest when Steve winked at him.

And here they were, the final photograph Jonathan needed. Vulnerable.

“Hey, this is kind of a weird request, but do you think you could get naked?”

Steve just blinked at him.

They had been trying to capture this one for the better part of a day. They had tried many different places, different rooms. They were currently in Steve’s parents’ bedroom, Steve sitting on the hearth rug in front of the large fireplace.

Jonathan had originally approached Steve about this project because of how constantly expressive Steve is (not to mention the tiny crush he’s been harboring for years). He tries to hide it, but those big eyes show everything. But Steve wanted it all to be real, wasn’t confident in his abilities as a model, a muse to just, manufacture these pictures. So he and Jonathan would work for the photos, would make Steve feel the emotion. And right now, right now it just wasn’t working.

“I beg your pardon.”

“It’s just not quite right. I think that’ll help you feel it. I won’t show anything.” Steve just considered him for a moment, standing up to tug his shirt off, kicking off his jeans. Jonathan averted his eyes, heat rising to his cheeks. He sat back down, curled into himself, knees bent to his chest, arms around his legs. Jonathan snapped a picture of him like that. He huffed.

“Still not it?” Steve was chewing on his lip as Jonathan shook his head. “Do you want me to like, tell you stuff? Get all, emotionally vulnerable?”

“If you want. You don’t have to tell me anything major.” Steve smiled at him.

“No, I want this to be real. I want you to do well.” He took a breath. “Where should I start?”

“Wherever you want.”

“My dad has never given me a hug. He tells me every time I speak to him that he’s disappointed in me, embarrassed of me.” Jonathan swallowed hard, raising his camera. So they were doing this. Steve was gonna sit here, completely naked in front of him, baring his soul. Steve was looking to the side, the empty bed, crisply made. “They didn’t want kids. I was an accident. They decided to keep me just to keep appearances. My dad’ll bring clients for dinner, show off his perfect family.

“That’s when they’re in town, which they never are.” He laid down, on his front, his head turned towards Jonathan, resting on his arms. He was always so aware of his body, knew just how to place it for beautiful photographs. Jonathan loved watching him move, so confident. “My dad cheats on my mom a lot. I walked in on him and his secretary when I was eleven. He gave me a stack of cash and a new bike to keep my mouth shut. Not that I would ever tell my mom. She said she likes to pretend I don't exist sometimes.” Jonathan put down his camera. The dad stuff was whatever. He was of course sad for Steve, but who didn’t have a shitty father these days?

But he had always known a kind and loving mother, couldn’t even wrap his mind around having one like Steve’s.

“I’m so sorry, Steve.” He raised his camera quickly, wanted to get the sad little smile Steve was wearing. “I don’t know what I would do without my mom.”

“I really like your mom. She’s a good lady. She’s really kind.” He shifted again, rolling onto his side, his legs bent up, the top knee bent more, pointed to the ground in an effort to keep himself somewhat covered. “My mom is cold. She told me that she regrets having a kid. Said she’s never quite gotten her body back after she was pregnant.” He squeezed his eyes closed. “She sometimes tells me that she’s never loved me.” Jonathan put down the camera, moving quietly over to Steve. He ran one hand through his thick hair. It was soft, no product in it. Steve took a deep breath, eyes dewy when he looked back at Jonathan. “I’m okay. Keep taking pictures.”

“We can stop. I’m sure I have something that’ll work.” Steve just batted Jonathan’s hand away.

“I’m good, Jon. Promise. I want you to get this photo.”

“Thank you for helping me. I really, I appreciate it.” Steve was smiling so sweetly at him, eyes all soft. Jonathan took a picture of it.

“No problem. I like helping. And it’s been, it’s been really fun, spending time with you like this. I really, I really like you, Jon.” Jonathan’s heart sped up. Steve’s eyes were wide, but Jonathan couldn’t look at them, look at them and see Steve being all soft like this, when he didn’t, there was no way he felt, the same.

Jonathan scooted back, picking his camera back up. He looked through the view finder, realizing Steve had moved again, was kneeling, sitting back on his heels, leaning forward, hands on the ground in front of him.

He took a picture.

“You want me to keep going?”

“Only if you’re comfortable.” Steve just smiled at him again,

“I’m always comfortable with you.” Jonathan’s heart thumped again. “I mean, you already know about the, the reading. You know, I’ve never actually told anyone about that. My kindergarten teacher wanted to get me tested for some things, I can’t actually remember what, but my dad wouldn’t let them. Said some real horrible shit to me, and I just, I’ve always been embarrassed. He’s always taking shit to me. God, imagine if he found out-” He cut himself off, looking at the ground. Jonathan was burning to know, know everything about Steve.

“You shouldn’t be embarrassed about that stuff. Not to me.” Steve looked up at him, Jonathan scrambled to take another picture.

It was like Steve had been entirely cracked open. With one look Jonathan could see everything in his heart, the light in him. It was beautiful and so fucking raw.

“That’s the shot.” Jonathan says right when Steve says

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Jonathan dropped the camera.

“What?”

Steve’s face was bright red.

“Nothing! I didn’t, I didn’t say anything.” He was shuffling on his knees, grabbing at his clothes. He tugged on his jeans, standing up. “So, you got the shot?”

“Steve.” Jonathan grabbed his wrist. “Did you mean that?” His eyes were panicked. “Did you mean that?”

“Yes.” He breathed it out. “I meant it.” Jonathan pulled him forward, and slammed them together. Steve made a soft noise against his lips, but he fucking melted against him, his hands coming up to thread through Jonathan’s hair, his hands settling on Steve’s hips.

They broke apart, and Steve’s big eyes were all bright, all happy. Jonathan scrambled for his camera, taking a photo of him, maybe a new one for “Joy”.

[fandammit]

Thursday Night Dinner at the Byers

I keep mentioning ‘Thursday Night Dinner at the Byers’ in all of my Stranger Things fics (here, here, and here) and, like, I just realized this is my random ass season 3 headcanon and I should probably explain it: 

Hopper means it when he says he shouldn’t have lied to her. That there are a lot of things he should’ve done differently. But he also knows that he’d do anything to keep her safe, that if Owens suggests one year then he’s gonna go with one year. But he keeps his promise and things are different this time around. 

He suggests Thursday dinners at the Byers house as a way for El to see her friends. He can’t very well take her over to the Wheeler’s house and the cabin is too far away to bike to every day and there’s no way in hell he’s shuttling kids back and forth to his house all the time, so he sets up a weekly dinner at the Byers because it just makes the most sense. Nancy can bring Mike, he can bring El and no one will ever suspect anything. 

He doesn’t think too deeply about the fact that no one questions, that no one even seems all that surprised about the fact that he’s going to weekly dinners at Joyce’s house. Flo takes to telling him to say hi to Joyce for her, encouraging him to dress up nicer on Thursday nights and goddammit Flo, for the last time there’s nothing wrong with what I wear.

Except that at some point, he does make it a point to rush home early on Thursdays and change out of his work clothes into something that’s ironed and not khaki. 

Jonathan is the one that cooks most nights and he has to admit that the kid is a damn good cook. Hopper makes El and Mike and Will set the table so that Joyce doesn’t have to worry about rushing home from work and taking care of it. He always helps her with the dishes afterwards, while Mike and Nancy and Jonathan and Will take turns tutoring El. 

Nancy bargains for a movie night every other week after dinner rather than tutoring and he gives in because she gives him these huge puppy dog eyes and he can literally feel Joyce laughing at him as he begrudgingly says yes. They take turns picking movies, though he always gives his turn to Eleven. 

Four and a half months into Thursday Night Dinners and they’ve all gotten into a pretty good rhythm. One night, Mike shows up in a mood. Halfway through his sullen pouting and Hopper cannot take it anymore, tells him to just spit it out already because he’s ruining dinner. The kid at least has the sense to look ashamed and apologizes, says that Dustin, Lucas and Max found out about the dinner and asked why they weren’t invited and there was apparently a huge fight. 

He and Joyce look at each other, surprised, and she tells Mike that she thought he’d already invited them? He looks away and says he forgot. “For four months?” Nancy asks and he just looks away, defiant and ashamed at once. 

“Thursday nights are all I have,” he mutters and it suddenly dawns on Hopper just how much Mike needs this time with Eleven, how much he hoards it. He looks over at Will and sees how uncomfortable he looks, the distance between him and Mike. 

He sighs and already regrets what he’s about to say but he says it anyway. 

“Look, why don’t you come over Tuesdays after school to help tutor El at the cabin.” And it’s almost hilarious how fast Mike’s head snaps up. 

“Just me?” 

Hopper nods. “Yeah. She could use some more time catching up since half of these dinners are dedicated to movie night.” 

Mike looks like he’s about to hug him. He doesn’t, which is a relief, just looks over at El, who’s practically beaming at him with excitement. He shakes his head and looks back over Mike. “So invite the rest of your friends over, alright? It’s not fair that El doesn’t get to see them just because you didn’t want them here.” Mike looks down but then nods. 

The very next week Lucas, Dustin and Max show up the doorstep. El answers, her face uncertain, almost shy as she looks at Max, who for the first time in her entire life feels nervous. Mike has told her about Max and Nancy has done an extensive explanation about there being room for more than one girl in the party, that no one is replacing anyone and anyway, she’ll probably like Max a lot more than she realizes after she gets to know her and she really just needs to try. 

She and Max look at each other for a long time. So long that Max gets nervous because holy shit she’s seen and heard what this girl can do, so  reaches out to hold Lucas’s hand. El stares at their linked hands, then squares her shoulders and reaches a hand out to Max. 

“Jane,” she says, trying to smile, a smile that becomes real when Max reaches out and grabs her hand firmly in her own. “Max.” And just like that, they’re friends. 

The dinners get a LOT louder after that. Dustin and Lucas are always arguing about something, half the time with words and characters and phrases that Hopper doesn’t even understand. He doesn’t mind though, because El always looks so happy to have them there and plus -- it means he can make the kids clean up afterwards while him and Joyce drink coffee on the front porch and smoke cigarettes. 

One night, Dustin is late and they’re already seated at the dinner table when the doorbell rings. Jonathan goes to get it, opens the door to Steve, sitting in his car, looking out and waiting for Dustin to go inside -- which he does approximately .2 seconds after Jonathan opens the door. 

Jonathan stands at the door, waves awkwardly to Steve, who waves back just as awkwardly. There’s a loud sound of laughter behind Jonathan, followed by a clattering of silverware, the loud racket of voices behind him. He sees the look of longing on Steve’s face, recognizable and lonely, which makes him leap off the steps and walk up to Steve’s car before he really knows what he’s doing. 

“Hey, you wanna come in for dinner?” He asks, and Steve looks about as surprised as Jonathan’s ever seen him -- which is something given the fact that they once fought of a monster in his hallway. He can see that Steve is about to say no, so he just keeps talking. “We always have too much food” (lie) “and there’s plenty of room” (another lie) “and Hopper always seems like he’s about two seconds way from murdering both Lucas and Dustin” (truth) “and it seems like they actually listen to you” (truth) “so, you know, you should probably come in and have dinner just so we can prevent a murder.”  

Steve stares at him a moment longer, then turns off the car and gets out of his car. Thinks that Jonathan is way too nice and way too hard to hate, and that makes him both glad and annoyed. 

“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you tell a joke?” He says, mostly to break up the silence as they walk up at the steps. 

“I’m not really joking about that last part” but Jonathan smiles as they walk into the house. 

They both step into the kitchen and all conversation stops immediately. 

Jonathan looks helplessly over at Hopper, who just jerks his head in Dustin’s direction and tells him to scoot over, directs Mike to go and grab a chair from the next room while Joyce gets up to get an extra table setting. 

It’s still awkwardly quiet around the table, which is getting really crowded now with eleven different people (Hopper makes a note to go looking for a longer table next time he drives over to Denfield). 

So he just sighs heavily and says, “so, I’m thinking about taking El to see Back to the Future later this week but I’m not sure” even though they’ve already decided that yes, they’ll see it in the next week and El knows this, which is why she looks over at him, confused. He can see she’s about to say something, but shakes his head quickly.

In the next moment the table explodes in conversation, each of the other four kids are talking over each other all at once about how great the movie is, how much they love it, the science of it, if they can go with him, how many times they’ve seen it already, how many times they’d be willing to see it again.

It makes his head hurt, especially given that he’s already heard these different facts about a half dozen times. But it works like he wanted, because then conversation starts up again from there, Lucas and Dustin arguing with Steve about something or other, Max telling El about school that day. 

Nancy glances over at him and mouths thank you. Joyce reaches under the table and squeezes his hand. He doesn’t think he imagines the fact that she lets it linger on his for longer than it needs to.

Eventually Hopper has to set ground rules because half the time he can barely hear himself think over the noise and also, 11 mouths to feed is a lot to put on the him and Byers every week. 

There is absolutely no arguing at the dinner table, no discussions about D&D campaigns, no talk about work. He splits everyone into teams and makes them responsible for helping cook meals every week. 

“We’re not all gonna mooch off of Joyce and Jonathan and Will every week” he tells them in no uncertain terms. He looks at the boys, who keep fidgeting. “And you’re not going to make your moms cook extra food, they have enough to do. Learn how to cook something -- you’re all old enough to learn how and anyway all men should know how to cook.” 

He sets the example by providing the main course the next week. All the other kids are completely surprised by how good of a cook he is, as if a man who stands 6′4 and walks around with a sheriff’s badge can’t also be pretty damn handy with a whisk and a spatula. 

His speciality? Breakfast for dinner, of course. His french toast casseroles become everyone’s favorite. 

Dustin turns out to be the best cook of all the teenagers. “It’s just like science,” he says every time he turns up with a new elaborate menu item. 

They give Steve the main course once and somehow he manages to burn spaghetti, so they assign him dessert from then on, which he always just buys at the store. 

The kids rotate setting the table and clearing if off and doing dishes. Which leaves Hopper and Joyce with a lot of time to themselves. He sometimes spends time before dinner fixing up things around the house or helping her with laundry and doing yard work. 

After dinner, though, they always step outside with a mug of coffee or hot chocolate and a cigarette. It’s mild cacophony inside the house, always, but outside it’s quiet. 

They talk about their days, they talk about the kids - what El’s been learning at home, how Will is doing in school. Sometimes they talk about the past -- the parts that hurt and the parts that make them laugh. Other times, they don’t say anything at all. Just stand side by side, his arm around her shoulders, hers wrapped around his waist. Those are his favorite moments of all. 

[savedbyharrington]

Something Happened

Steve x Henderson Reader x Dustin

Summary: Based on this post. You are Dustin’s older sister in a date with Steve and, well… Something goes really wrong

Warnings: There is what could be a beginning of a smut but it doesn’t really happen, because, well… So it’s not nsfw but there is some kissing and stuff. Aaand, swearing, I’m sorry I can’t help it.

Word count: I couldn’t count them because I wrote directly in the post, but it is, yeah, quite long.

Even though you hate to wish bad things to other people, you were very thankful that Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler broke up, so you could be with him. You were also grateful for that because you always knew very well that Nancy and Jonathan belonged to each other and they’ve finally noticed that. Growing up with them, especially because of your little brother, Dustin, and his friends, made you realize it.

Although you just got close with Steve after a serie of weird episodes, you have always wanted him for you, secretly. But you were just too shy to make a move. And also thankful for your brother for getting close to Steve so he could get to know you better.

You couldn’t forget the day. It was a cold fall day. Dustin had the whole gang at your place and he also invited Harrington himself to play boardgames with them. However, they accidentally ended up ignoring his presence because he couldn’t keep up with the games. Thankfully, he decided to talk to you and show his feelings.

“I’m so glad to see them all very happy and finally calm. I mean, with no monster or demo-something around. They can’t ever slow down, Jesus. HEY SHITHEADS, STOP YELLING PLEASE.” Steve said, sitting next to you on the couch. 

You blushed, he had never been physically that close to you.

“True. I’m just so shocked by how big they are. Time flies, you know? I still remember all of them, like, really small, playing with action figures and stuff.”

Steve kept his eyes on the six 12 year-olds, very focused. He sighed and looked back at you, with a smirk on the side of his lips.

“Do you wanna hear a secret Dustin told me? It’s really hot!”

“Steve Harrington gossiping? Now I’m intrigued!”- you couldn’t help yourself and you laughed a bit.

“I’m a human, I sin too.”- he laughed- “But let’s do this outside, I don’t want him to know that I told you this.”

“Okay, let me just grab my coat.”

As you closed the front door of your house, Steve held your hand, leading you to a place as far as possible to the entrance. Your heart started racing so fast you actually got scared he’d notice it, but you couldn’t deny you were loving it.

“As I told you, it’s really hot. You better sit down.”-he pointed to the ground, showing where you should sit.

“Okay, I must say I’m getting slightly scared. What happened that is so confidential?”- you raised an eyebrow

Steve sits next you, but turns his head to face you, even closer than as you were sitting on the couch. He comes closer to your ears and whispers:

“Dustin told me you always had a crush on me. And that once you wrote me a love letter, in like, the 8th grade.”

You actually fell on the ground with the shock.

“HE DID WHAT?!?!?! I’M GOING TO KILL THAT SHITHEAD. OH HE CAN’T WAIT FOR IT.”

But his reaction wasn’t at all what you were waiting for. Steve was laughing so hard he actually had his eyes tearing. 

“OH HENDERSON, YOU ARE JUST LIKE YOUR BROTHER! REALLY EASY TO CATCH” - he held your hand so he could lift you back up.

Suddenly your anger had turned into doubtfulness and you gave him your most confusing look.

“I was just teasing you. He didn’t tell me anything. I just wanted to check out if my theory was right, I always thought you had something for me.”

You could feel your cheeks getting red, and it wasn’t due the cold. To calm you down, Steve got close to your ear again and said very softly:

“Don’t worry, I have a thing for you too”

He waited to see your reaction, and even though you had no idea what you looked like,apparently you looked in an approval way, because Steve closed his eyes to give you a light soft kiss. You closed your eyes and kissed him back. Lord you waited SO long for that kiss.

“Caught you again! I just said that to see if I’d have a chance with you.”

You smiled, and playfully slapped his arm.

“Ouch! Okay, I deserved that. Is it true about the letter in the 8th grade though?”

“Yes. But it was during the 6th grade.”

He hugged you and kissed your forehead.

*******************************************************************

It has been 5 months since that amazing moment and you were going to celebrate it today. You two were deeply in love and Steve was being the best boyfriend ever. He took you everywhere, to the movies and for dinner, and also was very supportive and was with you whenever you needed.

Today wouldn’t be anything very fancy though. He was broke and you thought it’d also be nice just to eat pizza and watch a movie at his place. 

Exacly at 4pm his car arrives at your drive-way. He honks once, and you leave the house as fast as you can.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere without you!”-he said as you slammed the car’s door.

“I’m sorry, I’m just so excited! I haven’t seen you in a couple of days!”- you say, and immediately after, you kiss him. Oh, you missed those lips.

“Yeah, I know. But it was your decision to change me for your studies group!”

“I’m sorry, finals are coming! You should also be preparing yourself. Plus, don’t be jealous, you know you don’t need that.”

The date went perfectly fine. The pizza was delicious and the movie was on point. I mean, you love Star Wars way more than Steve did. He was more an action movie type of guy, but he’d do everything to please you.

The movie was just done. Steve yawns and stretches himself, doing that classic move where his arms goes around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. You snuggle him, laying your head on his chest. He places his nice strong arms around you. 

“That was so nice. We should do it more often. Even though I love to go out with you and show everyone the most beautiful girlfriend in the world… - he makes a small pause to kiss your head - “… I also love to stay in and do nothing all day.”

You turn around to face him, a smirk showing on the corner of your mouth.

“We can also stay in and… You know, do stuff…”- you raise an eyebrow

  Suddenly Steve was the one smirking, he pulls you up, so your face is on the same level of his. He trails kisses from your neck to your lips.

“Hmmm, that also sounds like a very nice idea…”-he whispers, kissing your lips once more.

This time, the kiss is more intense, longer, better. Both your tongues are joyfully dancing, showing each other some love. He pulls you up, so you can sit on his lap. Your hands are on his wonderful hair. Even though he told you to avoid messing it, he loved when you slightly pulled it.

Just as he was about to take your shirt off, someone knocks the door. Hard.

“(Y/N)!! STEVE! PLEASE OPEN UP!”

“Fuck, I left the door unlocked…”-mutters Steve.

Suddenly, Dustin opens the door and enters the house in such hurry it makes you think something is wrong again. But actually Dustin is the one more shocked to see his older sister on Steve Harrington’s lap. He even covers his face with his hands in embarrassment.

“SHIT. FUCK. I’M SO SORRY. I just need some help and I had to come here.”

“DUSTY ARE YOU OKAY?! WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED THIS TIME?!”

You promptly stand up and run to your little brother to check if everything is okay with him. But he pushes you away.

“NO! Jesus, (Y/N) I’m fine. It’s just that… Something happened.”-his voice lowed the tone at this last sentence

You look back at Steve, worried. He raised and eyebrow and asked:

“So, what happened? What did you do?”

“IT WAS AN ACCIDENT! I SWEAR!”

“C’mon Dustin! Just tell us what the hell happened!”-You are completely impatient and curious at this point.

“I… I flooded the toilet…”-He looks down. Dustin is too embarrassed to face you and Steve

“Are you serious you’re interrupting my date because you flooded the toilet? UGH! I bet the house is a mess!”-you sigh- “Why couldn’t just tell mom and call a plumber?”

“I CAN’T?! Do you remember how she reacted when I broke the window that time?”-his eyes looks scared by remembering the episode.

Steve can’t help himself and laughs in the background at your family arguement.

“To be quite honest with you, I have no interest in knowing how you did that. However, I’ll help you fix it.” - your generous boyfriend says, putting his shoes on and grabbing the car keys.

***************************************************

As you reached your house, Steve parks his car on you driveway and you two wait for Dustin who was following the car on his bike. 

You enter the house and notice that there is a waterfall down the stairs, making a huge puddle on the living room’s floor. You look at your brother furiously. 

“Calm down, he said it was an accident. Forgive the poor clumsy kid.”-says a calm Steve, placing his hand on your back, trying to calm you down as well.

Dustin then shows you his tongue. He had won that one.

You grab some towels and Dustin shows Steve where the problem was.

It was a looong hour drying all that water from the floor. And you of course had to use some cleaning products to relieve the strong smell. At least this was over and hopefully the toilet wouldn’t break again so soon. 

“Thanks once again Steve, for fixing the toilet.”-said a blushing Dustin - “And (Y/N) for helping me clean all this mess. Guess I owe you guys this one?”

“This one? Oh you little shithead, you owe us so much…”-Steve laughs and punches Dustin’s arm playfully.

[spookysshadow]

Jonathan Morgenstern - The boy who could have been

Because I’ll forever be bitter that they allowed Valentine to be a parent, here are some happy headcanons about one boi called Johnny Crispy Morgensternum.

My boi grew up in Brooklyn with his sis and his momma, a let me tell you, he’s a complete momma’s boy. Like, boy would follow momma everywhere and when he went through his emo phase (he def had an emo phase) he still listened to his momma. 

Just imagine lil Jonathana and Clary getting covered in paints when Luke is babysitting them and Jocelyn coming home to multicolored children. 

Imagine lil Jonathan with missing front teeth asking his momma for a hug and defending Clary from mean boys at school

Also, this kid was such a nerd. Like good grades in elementary school and always the teacher’s pet. Definitely had comments on his report card that said was a pleasure to have in class, such a bright boy, etc

Then middle school happened and he went through: the emo phase. Thats right, if you think for one second that Jocelyn the hot mess mom, would not produce two hot ass mess kids, you lieeee

Seriously, he dyed his hair black, was essentially adverting for Hot Topic on his body. He had those thicc ass band bracelets and he got a lip piercing that had Jocelyn rolling her eyes, but saying if thats what you want.

Luke was such a father figure to him as well. Like Jonathan played baseball with Simon and Luke, and they would have a boys day out and go watch a game together or something. While Jocelyn and Clary went to Central Park and rode bikes. 

FAMILY CAMPING TRIPS ft SIMON LEWIS.

Simon was the little brother Jonathan so wanted. And likewise Simon so loved the fact that Jonathan was like a cooler older brother. They def had jam sessions when Simon started playing guitar and Jonathan was on the drums because mom they speak to me, to my musical soul.

Jonathan also totally would steal Simon away from Clary when she was distracted so he could hang out with him instead. 

And when Jonathan realizes that Simon has a crush on Clary, he gently lets him down, that Clary just isn’t the right person for him and that he’ll find better. 

Speaking of Clary. These two are little devils. When they were super little, like toddlers they were cute with each other, but then They hit middle school age and suddenly they were sworn enemies. Like Mom Jonathan said I look stupid with bangs followed by because you do, who wears bangs anymore, are you trying to look old?

Or, Mom Clary locked me out of my room! followed by Well next time don’t each the last poptart!

Luckily for Jocelyn and Luke’s sake, they cool off by high school. Clary is still slightly annoying to Jonathan his freshman year, but he’s over it cause he’s a high schooler. 

Really, he starts hearing people talk shit about Clary and SImon, and he squares the fuck up with them. Which is why when they enter high school all the upperclassman know better than to mess with them. 

Occasionally someone will attack Simon, and Jonathan will lose his shit. Jonathan may be a lanky, drummer with waaaaaay too many band tees, but he can knock you out.

Him and Clary start helping each other out with homework and sneaking out of the house for parties. He’ll always take the blame, cause he knows his momma will go easy on him. 

My boi has no art skills what so ever. None, his mom and sister are the artists. But he’s a great musician, so his mom says, and he likes photography. He bought a nice camera on his fifteenth birthday after babysitting the next door neighbor’s triplets for a year. He earned it.

My dude also a huge ass science nerd. Over here trying to be a biomedical researcher. But if that doesn’t work, he’s got the band. He’s on and off with Rock Solid Panda, since he started college.

Yup, my boi in college. He’s working for that degree, though he’s mostly motivated by 7-11 slushies and a large amount of mountain dew. Coffee is not his thing. 

Momma Jocelyn was so proud when both kids graduated high school. Luke teared up too. She has their grad portraits in the main Hallway so every knows who her babies are. 

My boi also has the greatest friends, who will go with him to shitty music festivals and skateboard in areas that are def sketchy and illegal, his ride or die crew. 

Jonathan is a hilarious dude, he’s got some weird human, then again so does Clary and Simon, so duh. he’s so nice to his momma, he’ll always buy her flowers for her birthday and mother’s day. Boi is a hot mess too though. Like he’s super smart but once tried to microwave a salad. Common sense is hella lacking. He’s also such a messy person. Like his room is a nightmare, he puts his clean clothes on his bed and uses them as extra blankets. He knows that there must be some weird food hiding because he can smell it. And his books and photos are everywhere. Draws, closet, floors, under pillows, in his shoe. 

When he’s stressed for midterms or finals he’ll go home and just put his head on her lap and let her stroke his hair until he relaxes. 

He owns one hoodie that is so worn out it has wholes in it. It’s navy blue, but he refuses to get rid of it, because Luke gave it to him once at baseball practice and he was cold. He sleeps in it and eats in it. Honestly he would bathe in it if he could. That’s all he wears finals week.

I have much more I could write, but I can’t really form thoughts at this point, so enjoy a happy Jonathan Morgenstern.

[samuelfields]

The Definition Of American Prosperity Needs An Adjustment

There’s a common joke here in the SF Bay Area.

How do you know someone went to Stanford? They’ll tell you within the first couple of sentences.

We Americans have a tremendous desire for status and prestige. When we work hard for something, it’s our second nature to tell everybody about our achievement.

You do it. I do it. We all do it. No big deal if we aren’t incessant about it.

But at a certain point, it becomes concerning when we start complaining about our struggles despite being in an extremely fortunate situation.

Let me share one public example and then my own as case studies to illustrate how unaware we truly are about our good fortune.

Being Unable To Recognize American Prosperity

Charlotte from Time magazine sent out this tweet she wrote about everybody’s favorite politician, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez. It’s a good in-depth piece about how and why AOC came to power.

What is strange about her tweet is that she claims people her age (20s and 30s) have never experienced American prosperity in their adult lifetimes.

How could this be when the parents of people her age have been able to save and invest in the biggest bull market in history! If only we were able to rewind time and invest as Biff did in Back To The Future III.

Before rushing to judgment, I did what any rational person would do and tried to understand why Charlotte has had such a difficult time in her life so far.

Maybe she grew up in a poor single-parent household in a difficult neighborhood. Maybe she didn’t even go to public college because her parents couldn’t afford the tuition. Or maybe she has a disability.

Lo and behold, it was easy to understand her background because her parents have their own Wikipedia pages! I thought only rich and/or famous people have their own Wiki page? Silly me.

Here are some tidbits.

Jonathan Alter (father): A graduate of Phillips Academy (private prep school) and Harvard University. American journalist, best-selling author, documentary filmmaker and television producer who was a columnist and senior editor for Newsweek magazine from 1983 until 2011, and has written three New York Times best-selling books about American presidents

Emily Jane Lazar (mother): A graduate of Hotchkiss School (private prep school) and Harvard University. Co-executive producer of the former Comedy Central show The Colbert Report;three children: Charlotte (b. 1990), a writer for TIME Magazine, Tommy (b. 1991), a producer for HBO Sports, and Molly (b. 1993), who works in venture capital.

Then, of course, there’s Charlotte, who also went to Harvard University and is a staff writer for Time Magazine. I don’t know whether she went to an elite private prep school or not. But I assume so based on her parents’ backgrounds.

Most would agree that if you went to private grade school, private university, and have rich and accomplished parents, you’ve probably experienced some American prosperity in your life. Some might even conclude that all you’ve ever experienced is American prosperity.

Yet, I believe Charlotte and other wealthy people like her truly do not feel they have experienced American prosperity because their life is all they know. I’m sure Charlotte is a fine and nice person. She’s just a little unaware about how good folks like her truly have it.

As a parent, this lack of appreciation for prosperity is one of my worries of raising myself in a comfortable environment. He’ll have a warm home, food whenever he wants, and mostly prosperous friends. When life is so easy, you don’t end up pushing yourself to make something of your own.

The lack of struggle is one of the reasons why we considered moving back to Virginia instead of to Hawaii. Just look at how UVA turned it around in the NCAA tournament by losing in the first round last year to winning it all in 2019. Hardship creates hunger and growth! In Virginia, we could send him to a public school and let him experience more racial altercations.

Whereas in Hawaii, we would send him to likely a private school where more classmates looked like him. We’d also probably buy a nice house on or near the beach and finally start living it up in retirement.

But if you start with a Ferrari, how can you ever appreciate any other car when it’s finally time for you to buy one on your own?

If you’ve spent your entire life in a luxurious home, good luck feeling good about renting or buying a place with your own salary.

Financial Samurai Case Study

Now let’s look at my own lack of recognizing American prosperity. In the post, The Wide Implications Of The College Admissions Scandal, one of the points I write about is:

The middle class may become wealthier and happier. As college becomes less important in finding a job, there will be fewer people spending four years and borrowing tens of thousands in student loans. With more time and less financial baggage, more people will be able to aggressively save to buy a house, start a family, and save for retirement.

I thought this was a good thing. However, what I didn’t realize was that by writing the words “middle class,” based on my current position as a financially independent person, it could be construed as insulting to the “true middle-class” American.

Here is a response from a regular Financial Samurai reader,

Let me start by stating that I love your blog and your views on general and I salute you for your consistent approach. However, one area I repeatedly roll my eyes as is when you describe your upbringing as “middle class”.

Based on your posts, your parents had jobs as foreign service officers for the US Government. That is about as secure a job and lifestyle as one could expect (all living expenses comped by taxpayers). I’m not saying it is a cushy job or easy, as I respect those who do it, but it is an elite job.

Your views are warped and you seem to want to cast yourself as middle class struggle when in reality you had a huge advantage over most of the country.

Maybe not compared to your Wall Street buddies, but compared to most you had a silver spoon. This doesn’t discount any of your success, or the impact of racism that you said you faced which I agree is a challenge, but you need to get real on your upbringing and your parents jobs – not middle class.

This is fantastic feedback that shines a huge blind spot on my lack of awareness that I didn’t grow up middle class, even though I wasn’t writing about my own upbringing to begin with.

All this time, I thought I grew up in an average American household. Here are some data points from my upbringing that made me believe so. My dad verified the numbers.

Went to public high school (free) and college ($2,800/year in tuition at The College of William & Mary)

Dad went to the University of Hawaii (public), Mom went to National Taiwan University (public)

Parents drove an 8-year-old Toyota Camry (bought for $5,000)

Worked at McDonald’s, worked as a mover, and did random jobs as a temp during the summers

Lived in a ~1,700 sqft townhouse that was purchased for $190,000

Parents worked at the US State Department and my mom made between $25,000 – $55,000 and my dad made between $15,000 – $119,000 after a 30+ year career after serving in Vietnam

Here is the actual townhouse I lived in from Google street view. Ah, the fond high school memories. I had the room with the balcony.

It’s now becoming clear that I didn’t grow up middle class, but upper middle class or some would say rich. For example, while some classmates had to walk a couple miles to school, I got to ride a bike. As a result, I could get more sleep and do better in class.

During my time growing up in the Philippines, Zambia, Taiwan, and Malaysia before high school I witnessed a lot of poverty. In comparison, my family was definitely rich. Who gets to live abroad as a child while his parents get to honorably serve their country building foreign relationships? Not many.

Further, being born Asian seems to have given me a leg up in America because how could it not when elite private schools require a higher hurdle rate for admission? Surely these universities must have scientific data behind their decision. Otherwise, that would be discrimination.

For those who have been offended by my belief that the middle class will benefit from the college admissions scandal by helping level the playing field, I apologize. I really didn’t mean any harm and will try to only write about wealthy people stuff going forward.

Why We Can’t Recognize American Prosperity

Here are four reasons why I think some of us don’t recognize our prosperity.

1) Our government and think tanks arbitrarily define middle-class income and status for us nationally instead of locally. Pew Research, for example, believes that a middle-class income ranges between 67% to 200% of the median household income. While some in government, in order to raise the income tax rate at lower income levels, believe rich means earning income over $200,000, regardless of location.

2) Life’s struggles. No matter how rich and powerful you are, you will always experience some sort of hardship growing up. Common hardships include divorce, fights, bullying, rejections, mental illness, loneliness and deaths. These negatives are very real and make us feel less prosperous than we really are.

3) Our desire to always compare and want more. Even though my family drove a perfectly fine 8-year-old Toyota Camry during my upper class upbringing, I was envious of my rich friend whose family drove a new Honda Accord. I still remember that new car smell.

Even though AOC attended Boston University for $70,000 a year in today’s dollars, she might be envious of Charlotte Alter who attended higher ranked Harvard University for only $65,000 a year.

Conversely, Charlotte might be envious of AOC because AOC, with a less prestigious degree, is the second most popular politician in America. The comparisons go on and on and can make us miserable.

4) We’re simply ignorant about how the rest of the country and the world live. We need to travel more. We also should strive to learn another language to immerse ourselves in another culture. If we do, we will better appreciate how good we have things and get along with more people.

Let’s recognize our prosperity while trying to remain humble. If we can help others become more prosperous, all the better.

Always attribute most of your success to luck rather than to hard work. You can still secretly work hard behind the scenes, but never let anybody know. Saying you worked hard in today’s environment is gradually becoming an insult.

Finally, recognize the growing anger in America towards those who have more and adapt. When in doubt, be respectful towards those who denigrate your efforts. And if you feel that a respectful dialogue cannot ensue, then move on. There are so many better things to do with your time.

Remember, “talent is universal, but opportunity is not.” It is up to those of us with opportunity to help those who do not.

Related posts:

Spoiled Or Clueless? Try Working A Minimum Wage Job As An Adult For Goodness Sake

Your First Million Might Be The Easiest: How To Become A Millionaire By 30

Readers, anybody out there think they grew up middle class, but who actually grew up upper middle class or rich? Why do some people who grow up wealthy not recognize their prosperity? What is your definition of American prosperity? How can we get people to recognize and appreciate their prosperity more?

The post The Definition Of American Prosperity Needs An Adjustment appeared first on Financial Samurai.

from Finance https://www.financialsamurai.com/the-definition-of-american-prosperity/ via http://www.rssmix.com/

[ronaldmrashid]

The Definition Of American Prosperity Needs An Adjustment

There’s a common joke here in the SF Bay Area.

How do you know someone went to Stanford? They’ll tell you within the first couple of sentences.

We Americans have a tremendous desire for status and prestige. When we work hard for something, it’s our second nature to tell everybody about our achievement.

You do it. I do it. We all do it. No big deal if we aren’t incessant about it.

But at a certain point, it becomes concerning when we start complaining about our struggles despite being in an extremely fortunate situation.

Let me share one public example and then my own as case studies to illustrate how unaware we truly are about our good fortune.

Being Unable To Recognize American Prosperity

Charlotte from Time magazine sent out this tweet she wrote about everybody’s favorite politician, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez. It’s a good in-depth piece about how and why AOC came to power.

What is strange about her tweet is that she claims people her age (20s and 30s) have never experienced American prosperity in their adult lifetimes.

How could this be when the parents of people her age have been able to save and invest in the biggest bull market in history! If only we were able to rewind time and invest as Biff did in Back To The Future III.

Before rushing to judgment, I did what any rational person would do and tried to understand why Charlotte has had such a difficult time in her life so far.

Maybe she grew up in a poor single-parent household in a difficult neighborhood. Maybe she didn’t even go to public college because her parents couldn’t afford the tuition. Or maybe she has a disability.

Lo and behold, it was easy to understand her background because her parents have their own Wikipedia pages! I thought only rich and/or famous people have their own Wiki page? Silly me.

Here are some tidbits.

Jonathan Alter (father): A graduate of Phillips Academy (private prep school) and Harvard University. American journalist, best-selling author, documentary filmmaker and television producer who was a columnist and senior editor for Newsweek magazine from 1983 until 2011, and has written three New York Times best-selling books about American presidents

Emily Jane Lazar (mother): A graduate of Hotchkiss School (private prep school) and Harvard University. Co-executive producer of the former Comedy Central show The Colbert Report;three children: Charlotte (b. 1990), a writer for TIME Magazine, Tommy (b. 1991), a producer for HBO Sports, and Molly (b. 1993), who works in venture capital.

Then, of course, there’s Charlotte, who also went to Harvard University and is a staff writer for Time Magazine. I don’t know whether she went to an elite private prep school or not. But I assume so based on her parents’ backgrounds.

Most would agree that if you went to private grade school, private university, and have rich and accomplished parents, you’ve probably experienced some American prosperity in your life. Some might even conclude that all you’ve ever experienced is American prosperity.

Yet, I believe Charlotte and other wealthy people like her truly do not feel they have experienced American prosperity because their life is all they know. I’m sure Charlotte is a fine and nice person. She’s just a little unaware about how good folks like her truly have it.

As a parent, this lack of appreciation for prosperity is one of my worries of raising myself in a comfortable environment. He’ll have a warm home, food whenever he wants, and mostly prosperous friends. When life is so easy, you don’t end up pushing yourself to make something of your own.

The lack of struggle is one of the reasons why we considered moving back to Virginia instead of to Hawaii. Just look at how UVA turned it around in the NCAA tournament by losing in the first round last year to winning it all in 2019. Hardship creates hunger and growth! In Virginia, we could send him to a public school and let him experience more racial altercations.

Whereas in Hawaii, we would send him to likely a private school where more classmates looked like him. We’d also probably buy a nice house on or near the beach and finally start living it up in retirement.

But if you start with a Ferrari, how can you ever appreciate any other car when it’s finally time for you to buy one on your own?

If you’ve spent your entire life in a luxurious home, good luck feeling good about renting or buying a place with your own salary.

Financial Samurai Case Study

Now let’s look at my own lack of recognizing American prosperity. In the post, The Wide Implications Of The College Admissions Scandal, one of the points I write about is:

The middle class may become wealthier and happier. As college becomes less important in finding a job, there will be fewer people spending four years and borrowing tens of thousands in student loans. With more time and less financial baggage, more people will be able to aggressively save to buy a house, start a family, and save for retirement.

I thought this was a good thing. However, what I didn’t realize was that by writing the words “middle class,” based on my current position as a financially independent person, it could be construed as insulting to the “true middle-class” American.

Here is a response from a regular Financial Samurai reader,

Let me start by stating that I love your blog and your views on general and I salute you for your consistent approach. However, one area I repeatedly roll my eyes as is when you describe your upbringing as “middle class”.

Based on your posts, your parents had jobs as foreign service officers for the US Government. That is about as secure a job and lifestyle as one could expect (all living expenses comped by taxpayers). I’m not saying it is a cushy job or easy, as I respect those who do it, but it is an elite job.

Your views are warped and you seem to want to cast yourself as middle class struggle when in reality you had a huge advantage over most of the country.

Maybe not compared to your Wall Street buddies, but compared to most you had a silver spoon. This doesn’t discount any of your success, or the impact of racism that you said you faced which I agree is a challenge, but you need to get real on your upbringing and your parents jobs – not middle class.

This is fantastic feedback that shines a huge blind spot on my lack of awareness that I didn’t grow up middle class, even though I wasn’t writing about my own upbringing to begin with.

All this time, I thought I grew up in an average American household. Here are some data points from my upbringing that made me believe so. My dad verified the numbers.

Went to public high school (free) and college ($2,800/year in tuition at The College of William & Mary)

Dad went to the University of Hawaii (public), Mom went to National Taiwan University (public)

Parents drove an 8-year-old Toyota Camry (bought for $5,000)

Worked at McDonald’s, worked as a mover, and did random jobs as a temp during the summers

Lived in a ~1,700 sqft townhouse that was purchased for $190,000

Parents worked at the US State Department and my mom made between $25,000 – $55,000 and my dad made between $15,000 – $119,000 after a 30+ year career after serving in Vietnam

Here is the actual townhouse I lived in from Google street view. Ah, the fond high school memories. I had the room with the balcony.

It’s now becoming clear that I didn’t grow up middle class, but upper middle class or some would say rich. For example, while some classmates had to walk a couple miles to school, I got to ride a bike. As a result, I could get more sleep and do better in class.

During my time growing up in the Philippines, Zambia, Taiwan, and Malaysia before high school I witnessed a lot of poverty. In comparison, my family was definitely rich. Who gets to live abroad as a child while his parents get to honorably serve their country building foreign relationships? Not many.

Further, being born Asian seems to have given me a leg up in America because how could it not when elite private schools require a higher hurdle rate for admission? Surely these universities must have scientific data behind their decision. Otherwise, that would be discrimination.

For those who have been offended by my belief that the middle class will benefit from the college admissions scandal by helping level the playing field, I apologize. I really didn’t mean any harm and will try to only write about wealthy people stuff going forward.

Why We Can’t Recognize American Prosperity

Here are four reasons why I think some of us don’t recognize our prosperity.

1) Our government and think tanks arbitrarily define middle-class income and status for us nationally instead of locally. Pew Research, for example, believes that a middle-class income ranges between 67% to 200% of the median household income. While some in government, in order to raise the income tax rate at lower income levels, believe rich means earning income over $200,000, regardless of location.

2) Life’s struggles. No matter how rich and powerful you are, you will always experience some sort of hardship growing up. Common hardships include divorce, fights, bullying, rejections, mental illness, loneliness and deaths. These negatives are very real and make us feel less prosperous than we really are.

3) Our desire to always compare and want more. Even though my family drove a perfectly fine 8-year-old Toyota Camry during my upper class upbringing, I was envious of my rich friend whose family drove a new Honda Accord. I still remember that new car smell.

Even though AOC attended Boston University for $70,000 a year in today’s dollars, she might be envious of Charlotte Alter who attended higher ranked Harvard University for only $65,000 a year.

Conversely, Charlotte might be envious of AOC because AOC, with a less prestigious degree, is the second most popular politician in America. The comparisons go on and on and can make us miserable.

4) We’re simply ignorant about how the rest of the country and the world live. We need to travel more. We also should strive to learn another language to immerse ourselves in another culture. If we do, we will better appreciate how good we have things and get along with more people.

Let’s recognize our prosperity while trying to remain humble. If we can help others become more prosperous, all the better.

Always attribute most of your success to luck rather than to hard work. You can still secretly work hard behind the scenes, but never let anybody know. Saying you worked hard in today’s environment is gradually becoming an insult.

Finally, recognize the growing anger in America towards those who have more and adapt. When in doubt, be respectful towards those who denigrate your efforts. And if you feel that a respectful dialogue cannot ensue, then move on. There are so many better things to do with your time.

Remember, “talent is universal, but opportunity is not.” It is up to those of us with opportunity to help those who do not.

Related posts:

Spoiled Or Clueless? Try Working A Minimum Wage Job As An Adult For Goodness Sake

Your First Million Might Be The Easiest: How To Become A Millionaire By 30

Readers, anybody out there think they grew up middle class, but who actually grew up upper middle class or rich? Why do some people who grow up wealthy not recognize their prosperity? What is your definition of American prosperity? How can we get people to recognize and appreciate their prosperity more?

The post The Definition Of American Prosperity Needs An Adjustment appeared first on Financial Samurai.

from https://www.financialsamurai.com/the-definition-of-american-prosperity/