#washington color school

[elbeaa]

Morris Louis

Para IV 1959

Magna on canvas

101 x 137 in. (256.5 x 348 cm)

[theaskew]

Gene Davis (American 1920-1985), Saber Dance, 1952, ink and ink wash on paper, 13 1/2 x 16 1/2 in. | 34.3 x 41.9 cm. (Source: Smithsonian American Art Museum)

[istandonsnowpiles]

Spire Security

[loqueeverett]

[buryustogether]

lilac - chapter 1

miguel o’hara x f!reader

summary: the father of one of your students is acting rather strangely - but when he smiles at you, you can’t help but forget your own name.

wc: 6k

warnings/tags: mentions of blood and violence, swearing, pining, stripping, strip club, sex workers, sexual fantasy, smut, thigh riding, fingering, oral (f! receiving), pet names, dom!miguel, single father!miguel, teacher!stripper!reader

author’s note: set in the universe where miguel replaces his father!variant with himself. ps - planning on turning this into a series/full fic.

New York

Earth - 9193

Since you could remember, the sky above the city, flecked with struggling stars and choking on itself over clouds of smog like cigarette smoke, had been deep purple. Some called it violet. Others named it plum. They were trying to make a prettier picture of an ugly reality, desperately ignoring the real world that held them captive. The purple held every soul in this city on a taut leash; each time someone was given a little slack, they wandered too far and discovered that, really, they hadn’t ever wanted to stray in the first place. Car bombings every week. Shootings. Back alley guttings. Innocence all but a foreign language to the citizens of New York.

You wished with every bit of you that one day you’d be able to escape and see the real color of the sky. Because deep down you knew, wanted to believe, wished and prayed… that it was not this shade of dark.

Your classroom was one of the only lit rooms here in Washington Elementary School, a beacon through dimly-lit hallways and the even dimmer streets outside your windows. A long, silent exhale managed to escape your lips as you continued to grade your third graders’ spelling tests, using a pink pen to correct their mistakes instead of a red one. You figured it was less harsh, more inviting to be open to learning from where they first failed. Your back was beginning to cramp from sitting in these damn little-kid chairs, your knees practically hugged to your chest due to how low to the floor you were. You would have been at your desk - hell, you would have been home getting ready for your second job right about now - had it not been for the young girl sitting across the table from you.

Gabriella O’Hara was, in your opinion, one of the most intelligent children you’d had the pleasure of teaching. She was quick and clever and friendly, not to mention, captain of her little soccer team funded by the taxes of PTA parents and the grumbling millionaires of the city. She was a frequent flier on your good-behavior list, and her name had made a home for itself on the principal’s honor roll long before she’d landed in your class.

She was a sweetheart, to say the least. She had been raised well by her father - who, uncharacteristically, had been a no show when it came time for pick up two hours ago.

Glancing up from your papers, you smiled gently at Gabriella as she scribbled along her homework page. “Briella, honey,” you said and leaned your chin in your hand. “Why don’t you check to see if your dad texted at all.”

Obediently, Gabriella dug her phone - a little flip-type, despite there being hundreds of smartphones out these days - and clicked the button to scroll through her recent texts. You watched as her face fell, thick brows and full lips pulling downward. “Nothing,” she said and placed her phone back. She looked to you, and it was obvious from the way she squirmed in her seat that her nervous stomach was starting to get the better of her. “I’m kind of scared, Miss Y/N. My daddy’s never late.”

Setting down your pink pen, you reached across the table and placed a hand on her small forearm. You’d stayed late before when parents were late for pick up, or they forgot, or they were too stoned out of their minds to bother, but you had to admit, you were rather worried, as well. Her father had never been late once, not even by five minutes. So two hours was, really, something to bat an eye at. “I’m sure everything’s fine,” you assured her and offered a gentle smile. “He probably just got held up at work. Maybe his phone died.” Your gaze flickered briefly to the windows behind her, strung across with colorful drawings and decorations, as a number of wailing police cars zipped past. When she started to follow your eyes, you added quickly, “I bet he’s on his way right now. Why don’t you finish up your homework so you can have the rest of the evening free when you get home.”

As she went back to her work, you found yourself tapping your fingernail against the table, your gaze stuck to an empty corner across the room. Miguel O’Hara was nothing but punctual, not just to everyday events like after-school pick up, but to every single thing he did. Soccer practice and games. Parent-teacher conferences. Hell, you wouldn’t put it past him to be an hour early to that fancy job of his at Alchemax every Monday through Friday. He was a perfectionist, signing every grade card check and permission slip with the neatest signature you’d ever seen. And it was a feat to marvel at, considering he was a single father.

Once, at a soccer practice, you’d heard from a few of the mothers who had nothing better to do than gossip that he’d moved himself and Gabriella over from Queens years ago when he was hired as a geneticist. Her mother had apparently left them when she was born, and he’d done everything from that moment on for the good of his little girl.

You weren’t afraid to admit to yourself he was, by far, the best-looking man you’d ever laid eyes on. Cheekbones placed high on his face, wide, broad shoulders, a sinewy frame that nearly challenged the doorframes he walked through. He was friendly, sure. But that was all you knew. You’d never been able to get close enough to know much else. An enigma to your curious mind, Miguel was nothing short of a puzzle that you desperately wanted to put together and see the bigger picture for yourself.

Shaking your head slightly, you forced yourself to wind back into the present. God, you needed to get a fucking grip. Crushing on the father of one of your students? Fucking pathetic. You had a boyfriend, for God’s sake.

You had just begun to grade your papers again, nearing the end of your stack, when there came the sounds of footsteps pounding against the tile floor of the hallway outside. They were jogging, approaching your room at an alarming rate. You stood, thinking it was the janitor having locked himself out of his closet again, and prepared to fetch your keys when a much different - yet no less welcome - figure filled the doorway.

“Hi, daddy,” said Gabriella as Miguel O’Hara entered your classroom.

You looked up, lips parted as you took him in. God, he was stunning. Somewhere around six feet with dark, somewhat-tamed hair that matched his tan skin and the thick brows sitting above his sloped eyes, he stood with a chest that rose and caved rapidly, like he’d run through the entire school searching for your room. Which he shouldn’t have - he knew the classroom his own daughter was in. Didn’t he?

“Oh, baby,” Miguel said and rounded the table so quickly you could have blinked and missed it. He hauled her up into his arms like she was nothing but a sack of flour and hugged her tight to his chest, almost like he was trying to mold the feeling of her to himself. “I’m so sorry I’m late. I lost track of time. I’m so sorry.” As if just realizing you were in the room, watching the pair with a small smile, he set his daughter back down and pulled her backpack from the back of her chair. “Pack up your things, okay? We’ll go home in just a minute.”

He approached you where you stood beside your desk loading your purse, and you swore your heart skipped a beat as he towered over you. Thick, corded muscles and a frame that made your stomach churn excitedly, he was the perfect picture of a fucking masterpiece. “Hi,” he said in a low tone, meant for you to hear and not Gabriella. “I’m so sorry for keeping you here. Time got away from me, and when I got here, the front doors were locked.” He took a breath. “Thank you. For watching her, I mean.”

Forcing your heart to calm its thundering in the confines of your chest, you grinned up at him brightly. “It’s not a problem, Mister O’Hara. I was happy to.” You decided to say nothing about the fact that it was unlike him to lose track of time. He wore a watch that you recognized as one of the latest, expensive versions that were magnetic, not electric, so it was incapable of stopping. How exactly did time get away from a man who revolved around it? “I’m sure she’s going to crash when you get home, anyway. She had a big day.”

Miguel blinked a few times and placed a hand on his hip, jutting it out slightly. Fuck, you wished he wouldn’t do that. “Yeah?”

“Mm-hmm. We had a soccer scrimmage against one of the other classes today and she pulled the winning goal. Then there was the assembly over fire safety, but I’m sure you saw that in the handout last week.”

His lips remained parted for a long moment as his dark, umber gaze traveled across the stack of next week’s announcement handouts. “Right,” he said after a moment or two. “Right. Do, uh… do you think I could have another one of those? For this week. And maybe next week’s, too. Has that been sent home already?”

Giving him a rather crooked smile, you opened a drawer in your desk and produced the light green paper with last week’s announcements. Then you stacked it beneath next week’s and extended it toward his hulking frame. “Sorry if this seems a little… personal, Mister O’Hara,” you said as he took the papers, “but are you feeling alright? I really don’t mean any offense, but you seem a little… off.”

Tilting his head slightly, Miguel seemed to hesitate, fumbling with his answer in his head. He was frozen for a brief moment before your attentions were drawn across the classroom, where Gabriella zipped up her backpack and began to trudge toward the door. “I’m alright,” he said as he turned back to you. “I just, uh… I hit my head this morning. Been a little out of sorts, but I’ll be alright.”

“Daddy,” whined Gabriella under her breath. “I’m tired.”

“Okay, princesa,” he said and met her at your door. After slinging her backpack over his own shoulder and taking her hand, he glanced back at you. “Thank you again…” You watched as his eyes flickered to your name written across the whiteboard. “...Miss Y/N.”

“You’re welcome, Mister O’Hara.” A few more words sat on your tongue, desperately trying to fight against your lips and jump out before the moment escaped. You tried to fight them down, but eventually they won the battle and spilled forth. “And - and you can just call me Y/N.”

Miguel stared at you for a moment, and you thought briefly that you had crossed a line you had been unable to see. Then he smiled gently, his full lips spreading into a gentle grin. He opened his mouth to say something in return before Gabriella pulled him out the door and into the hallway. You listened as their voices and the sounds of their footsteps grew quieter before silencing, then turned away and finished gathering your things.

On your way out of the building, while slipping through the front doors, you noticed the steel bolt lock keeping them shut after dark had been snapped entirely in two - as if someone had pulled on the door hard enough to break the lock on their own.

You figured it to have been a couple students who got their hands on their parents’ bolt cutters and made a mental note to ask the janitor for a replacement.

Once you got to your car and flipped the engine, you took a breath and glanced at yourself in the mirror. In that breath, you willed yourself to switch into the alternate persona you took on after the school days, after the sun had set and the night really came alive from its demented, hungover state during the lightest hours. You pushed your students into the back of your mind, your plans for tomorrow and upcoming projects and due dates into the recesses of your brain. You shoved back thoughts of Miguel O’Hara and everything about how much you wanted to fucking reverse time so that he could smile at you like he had tonight all over again.

It was time to really work, now.

The Menagerie was a club on the northeast side of the Financial District, where the warehouse fires and muggings weren’t quite as common. Police forces cruised through here more often than, say, Harlem or Queens; the people who ran the city had to keep their most well-paid workers protected and thriving, right? Who else would steal from the hands of the poor and throw it all away the first chance they got?

Thrumming, thundering music like a pulse, like the club itself was alive with the blood of money and alcohol pumping through it, pounded from speakers and shook the walls in their very foundations. Neon lights like jilted, water-colored sunlight shone from corners along the ceilings, creating shadows like both nightmares and dreams along the walls and the faces of the patrons. The bar was overflowing. Security was chasing their own tails. The place was packed. Everyone who was anyone wanted to get into The Menagerie, because between its four walls and roof, you could be anyone you wanted to be.

It was law in this gilded cage that everyone was to wear a mask, its paint and diamonds and ribbons designed to depict animals. Security wore the full-bodied faces of lions. Bartenders and servers played dress-up with rimmed eye gaps as raccoons. Guests were allowed to pick a mask ranging from creatures that roamed the sky to those that crawled the earth. And the girls - the girls were exotic, majestic things that no one would mistake for anything else. They were tigresses and peacocks, they were arctic foxes and lynxes, any animal that had long since gone missing or extinct in this world of yours. Why go searching for the real thing, when they could come here and find the women?

The Menagerie was not a club. It was a cage, for animals so desperate to get out they had bent the bars in an attempt to escape.

Staring at yourself in the mirror of the dressing room, you gingerly affixed the golden mask to your face so that it would stay spread across your features while you danced and entertained. The hard, fake porcelain covered your forehead and nose, leaving your mouth free for the lips and tongues that would attempt to claim yours as their own. Orange and gold butterfly wings blossomed from the center of the mask, disguising you as the endangered insect everyone else seemed to have forgotten about; the Monarch. Fluttering and beautiful upon the wind, never easy to catch.

That was, unless they flew right into a spider’s web.

To your left, a few of the other girls were perfecting their makeup and adjusting their outfits - what little outfits you all had. Zara, known throughout the club as the Panther, caught your eye in the mirror and flashed you a sharp smile.

“You seem quiet tonight,” she said and ran a stick of gloss over her lips. She examined herself close in her handheld. “Something on your mind?”

A few of the other girls tried to inconspicuously listen in, able to sniff out gossip from miles away. Perhaps in here, you all were a little bit more animal than human, after all.

Forcing yourself to smile gently, you waved a ring-garnished hand in Zara’s direction and turned back to your reflection. You hardly recognized yourself like this, despite seeing this version of you all week long. You hoped you never did recognize it. “Oh, it’s nothing,” you brushed off.

Across the dressing room, Shawna, the Owl, tisked her tongue and hummed from deep in her throat. “You know you’re an awful liar, girl,” she said from where she sat scrolling through her phone. “We all noticed when you came in an hour later than you do. Something happen tonight?”

Well, fuck. Now everyone was waiting for your answer, waiting to see if it was worth listening into or not.

Pursing your lips in an attempt to show that it was no big deal, despite how much your stomach and your heart and your brain screamed that it wasn’t, you shrugged a shoulder and tried to avoid their gazes. “Nothing too big,” you replied and began to absentmindedly twist the ribbon keeping your mask in place. “Just… had a student stay a little later. Her dad lost track of time.”

“It couldn’t be that Alchemax hunk you’ve been telling us about.”

Fuck - you really learned to keep your cards closer to your chest.

Your silence must have been enough for them to connect the pieces, because a few of them tittered and giggled. A newer girl, who was still earning her way up to being on stage, piped up. “Have you ever talked to him?” she asked. “I mean, besides school-related stuff. Find out if he’s attached?”

“Absolutely not,” you forced out and stood to straighten out your costume. Your breasts were barely covered by the flimsy top and your ass hung out of the bottoms, both orange and black and white, like a monarch butterfly’s designs. Gold fishnet stockings lined your legs, leading down to a set of heels that had taken weeks to not tip over in. You were supposed to wear a cape, a gown-like train, but it was stepped on too much for you to bother with it. “He’s not there to cruise teachers, he’s just trying to help his kid through the third grade.”

“More than you could’ve asked from my dad,” Zara puffed.

God, you thought, yours, too. And your mother, while you were at it. They’d never come to meetings and games and plays like Miguel did. Hell, they hardly ever even remembered to pick you up from school on their good days.

Gabriella really had hit the father lottery.

Shawna shrugged her shoulders as she rose from her seat and picked up her own mask. “Even if that’s all he’s there for,” she said, then pulled the owl-designed porcelain over her face and fixed you with a stare through the eye holes, “doesn’t have to hold you back from at least trying.”

Her words rang in your ears as you carried on with your work that evening. They stuck with you as you danced for drooling men and women who oggled at you from behind their masks, as you ran your fingers down arms to chase bigger tips, as you followed a man who paid top dollar for a private dance.

Her words rattled like bells in your head as you mindlessly ground yourself against your customer, allowing yourself to get lost in your own imagination while you willed yourself to work. You shut your eyes behind your mask and let yourself fall into a dangerous little scenario you cooked up just for yourself.

You imagined not your boyfriend, who was out there in the city somewhere playing with his stupid fucking band to a crowd of three, not of any celebrity crush or model, but of Miguel O’Hara. You imagined him beneath you instead of some man whose breath smelled like expensive alcohol. You thought of him, and his hulking frame, and his powerful thighs you had found yourself staring at anytime he entered your line of sight.

Mind running away with this little fantasy of yours, you ground yourself a little harder against the lap beneath you, pushed your chest further against the chest parallel to yours. In your head, Miguel let out a huffy breath and rested those large hands of his on your hips, slowly but surely guiding your movements until you were riding his thigh. You tried to imagine, so intensely and desperately, how such an event would go.

He would gently, but firmly, help move your hips so that your exposed clit rubbed perfectly against the rough fabric of his jeans. You would keen and arch your back into him, hands running over his sinewy shoulders, as he hitched his leg and sent a powerful jolt of pleasure running through you and right to your core.

“You like that, pretty girl?” he would murmur in your ear, lips brushing along the shell before his tongue, warm and soft and pink and wet, licked against your lobe. “Ride, querida. ‘Til I say you’re done, and then I’ll show you how a real man fucks.”

You would grind your hips against his leg, moaning aloud and unabashedly when he tensed his corded muscle so that you’d have something to hump into. His hands, wide and spread, would wander along your bare back, memorizing the skin there like it was his and his alone, and he would dip his head to attach his lips to your nipple. He’d suck the nub into a hardened bud, then kiss and lick and nibble the skin around it until it was marred with love marks that would darken the following morning, and then he’d switch and give the other one the same kind of attention.

“Miguel,” you’d whimper in a certain kind of tone, and suddenly you’d be on the bed, pulled to the edge so that the globes of your ass hung off and when he kneeled he had access to your cunt bared for him.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he would say as he pressed open-mouthed kisses up and up your inner thighs, getting closer to where you needed him most. “All for me and me alone. Isn’t that right, bebe?”

You wouldn’t be able to give him a clear answer at first, not when he would lick a long, wet stripe up the center of your folds and up to your clit. He would expertly find that little bundle of nerves, wrapping his lips around it and fondling with his tongue until you couldn’t do anything but sigh and moan and card your fingers through his dark hair to pull him closer. He would suck on your sweet spot for a while, alternating between licking stripes and adorning it with kisses, before he would slowly drag his long, thick fingers toward your sopping folds.

But he would stop just short.

“Say it,” he would tell you, dark, impenetrable gaze fixated on you from where he kneeled between your legs like a devout believer praying to his one and only love - his goddess. When you would whine and cry from the pausing of his ministrations, he would take his mouth, his wonderful, hot breath, away from your aching cunt. He would cock his head, allowing a bit of hair to fall across his face. “Tell me who this pussy belongs to, chica.”

“Miguel,” you would say again, because, really, that was all you could think of to say. “Miguel, please… need you, please…”

He would pull his fingers from your heat, gaze stony and immovable as a mountain standing tall in the midst of a storm. God, not even that could sway him. “Tell me,” he would demand again, this time in a low baritone that made your cunt clench around nothing because goddammit, even his fucking voice could send you into heat like a damn dog. “Tell me who this pussy belongs to. Now.”

“You,” would come the small, high-pitched answer, tumbling from your lips without another thought that did not involve him. “You, Miguel. Belongs to you. All for you, no one else.” You would babble, desperate to reach your climax before he let you fall back down that incline so, so cruelly, yet so, so deliciously. “Please, Miguel, need you. Need your fingers, anything. Just fuck me, please, handsome, fuck me ‘til I can’t remember my own name.”

He would tilt his head even further, like a predator toying with the prey he’d been chasing after for miles upon miles, before placing a gentle, feather-light kiss upon the inside of your thigh. “That’s my girl,” he would say, then attack your clit with his full, thick lips, plunge two of his fingers into your heat, and begin to fuck you into oblivion.

The sound of his fingers constantly edging in and out of your dripping pussy, so wet you could feel your arousal dripping down your thighs and your ass, would pull the most wonderful and pornographic-sounding moans and whimpers and whines of his name from your throat. Your own slick would coat his digits like honey, so sweet that for a moment he would stop his assault on your divine bundle of nerves and crane his neck to lick up a bit of it from where it dripped down your ass. The flat of his muscle would raise goosebumps along your skin as you cried out for him, one hand gripping his hair and the other buried into the sheets of the bed.

“Miguel,” you would cry and begin to rock your hips to meet the thrusts of his fingers, practically humping his face. He would take it like it was his last meal, returning to his sucking and licking and circling of your clit to send bolt after bolt of pleasure and heaven and everything else in between. “Miguel, Miguel, Miguel…!”

“That’s it,” he would murmur between licks through your soaked folds, feeling as your slick dripped down his wrist. “Say my name, bebe, tell them who’s making you feel this fucking good.”

He would angle his fingers then at just the right angle, his fingertips hitting that perfect, fucking perfect spot deep inside you. Stars would dance in your vision as your mouth would open in a silent scream, unable to get anything out but a tiny wail of heavenly pleasure. You would swear you’d never felt this goddamn good in your life, like you would gladly trade everything in the whole world just to stay here forever. His pace would pick up, aiming for that spot inside of you, and he’d lap at your cunt in a feverish craze, like it was the only thing that would save him from losing his mind.

All too soon, your thighs would begin to tremble and you would feel that beautiful, familiar coil tightening and winding deep within your soul. “Miguel,” you would cry out for the whole world to hear. “Miguel, m’close, I’m so close!”

“Come on, pretty bebe,” he would say between your thighs that would try to wrap around his head in a feeble attempt to pull him closer. “Cum f’me. I want it. All of it.”

His words would send a shockwave of pleasure through you, one that would white out your vision so intensely you would have thought he’d killed you and sent you on your way to the pearly white gates, and you’d have been okay with that. He continued to work you through your orgasm, his pace slowing but never stopping, his mouth pressing hot, wet kisses along your thighs, your hips, your naval.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl. Taking it so well, all for me. Look so pretty all laid out like this, like I could just eat you up. Would you like that, hmm? You want me to just devour you ‘til you’re left shaking and crying my name?”

“Miguel. Miguel, Miguel, Miguel…!”

“...My name’s not Miguel.”

Your eyes flashed open, suddenly brought back to the real world, pulled away from your fantasy. Through the holes in your monarch mask, you looked down to find your customer staring up at you with wide eyes and popping a boner put there by your mindless rocking against his hips. Feeling your cheeks flush, you slipped off of him and consciously tugged your outfit lower over your ass.

You pursed your lips, attempting to hide how mortified you were. “...That’s going to be another twenty bucks.”

It wasn’t until around one in the morning when you got home to your little apartment squished in a dilapidated little building wedged between two office towers because the landlord had refused to sell the place when they steamrolled the others ten years ago. The lights were off when you slipped inside, and a little piece of yourself inside wilted.

At once, you threw up a wall and dismissed that sinking feeling. Of course he wasn’t going to wait up for you. He’d had a show tonight, and he had another one tomorrow. He was tired.

Not nearly as fucking tired as you, though.

After wiping off your makeup and pulling off the fake little diamonds stuck on your temples, after changing into your pajamas and brushing your teeth, and after pinning a new drawing from one of your students on the fridge despite the fact you knew they’d never see it, you tiptoed back to the cramped little bedroom. You poked your head inside. Ferris, your boyfriend of six months, was spread out across the entire mattress, snoring gently into the fabric of the crumpled sheets.

You swallowed thick. You didn’t want to disturb him. He needed his rest.

You grabbed your phone charger from the wall and your pillow from beneath his arm, then slid on your socks back into the tiny living room. Plopping yourself down on the couch and plugging in your phone, you rolled yourself onto your side and stared at the dark screen. Willing something to happen. Something to come up, someone to reach out.

Because in reality, though you would rather throw yourself off the Brooklyn Bridge than admit it… you had never felt so alone.

[anniflamma]

For the past three days, my mom and I have been exploring Washington DC, and it’s been an experience! We managed to see the major memorials, like the Lincoln, Washington, and WWII Memorials. Then we went to the National Museum of African American History and Culture. We didn’t see all the exhibits, but we caught the most important ones.

The food here hasn’t been amazing—good at best! I got an $8 ice cream that was so frozen to the core, I had to wait for it to melt so I could eat it. Then, knowingly it would be dangerous, tried a bubble tea from one of those neon-colored food trucks. It was mostly milk, condensed milk, and artificial flavoring, not much bubble tea. My mom got sick from it, so we sat down on a bench. But by sitting there, we got to see a sun halo! It was a faint one, but still really cool.

My favorite stop was an exhibit at the Artechouse museum with a theme around the deep sea and the Twilight Zone. It was small but beautiful.

We also visited the National Museum of the American Indian, where we saw all the displays. The setup took us along a timeline showing interactions between different Native American groups and the colonizers, and how the so-called 'peace treaties' came about. It started with a 'we’re all friends here' theme, but it ended with a video showing how colonizers immediately broke the treaties and committed genocide against Native Americans.

One photo really stuck with me. When the state kidnapped children to 'reeducate' them, there was a picture of one of these reeducation schools. Right outside, you could see tents where parents camped outside, waiting for their children to be released and show they hadn’t abandoned them. It was a heavy and powerful image. It will be in my minds for a long time.

But now, we’re off, leaving Washington for the next town!

[sigma-alpha-writer-chad]

Grow Up, Would You? [Josh Washington]

“I don’t know if you’ve changed any since middle school but I really hope you’ve learned the difference between pranking somebody and just being a fucking bully.”

You can also find this story on Ao3!

Prologue / Chapter One / Chapter Two

[Italicized chapters are sort of like,, flash backs? Stuff in the past, whatever.]

[CHAPTER ONE]

I’d never been one for parties.

Yet there I stood, staring up at the house of the address I was given, the windows flashing a multitude of colors as the muffled music blared. People were scattered around the front lawn, holding their drinks and talking happily amongst themselves as laughter filled the cool night air. I felt a sense of midding as I slowly made my way to the front door, a small smile formed on my face.

I opened the front door to be met with the loud, hot air of the party. It wasn’t packed, but it was close. Immediately I started looking around for the one who invited me, gently pushing my way through the groups of people. There were faces I recognized, and ones I didn’t. I hadn’t seen anyone in the area since I’d changed schools years prior. But none of them were who I was searching for. Until finally, I saw him.

He was tall, with blonde hair and blue eyes behind a pair of thick black rectangular glasses. He wore a dark green sweater that fit his broad shoulders snugly and blue jeans. I especially knew it was him when I spotted his hiking shoes.

Who wears hiking shoes to a party?

“Chris!” I called. M y cousin, Christopher Hartley, leaning up against the wall and talking to a girl with red hair. He turned to me and smiled.

“Jordan! I didn’t think you’d show,” he said. He took a step towards me and pull ed me into a tight, familiar hug. Chris took a step back as if to get a better look at me. “You look great!”

“Yeah, well, y’know,” I grinned. I tucked a hair behind my ear. It was Chris’s friend group’s graduation party, and it was a big one. A smaller celebration had been held prior by the adults for Chris , a nice outdoor barbecue with baby photos tacked onto the walls and various cork boards. But once that was over and everyone had left, Chris begged me to go with him to a much larger, run by the teens grad party the next week.

“Let me introduce you to my friends!” Chris was practically yelling into my ear to be heard over the blasting music.

“Uhm, no! I’m good, actually, I’ve met your friends!” I’ d met his friends. Mean girls, meat-heads, and -

“C’mon, Jordan, please! You haven’t seen them in like 4 years, they’re totally new people now!” Chris insisted. He grabbed my wrist and began to pull me back towards the red-haired girl. I recognized her then.

“Hi, Ashley,” I waved meekly.

Ashley Brown. Despite the people she surrounded herself with, Ashley seemed like a nice girl. She had red shoulder length hair and hazel eyes under thin eyebrows. Her makeup was subtle and suited her well. She was a very conventionally pretty girl and one that Chris had a huge crush on. Even back in elementary school I remembered seeing her and Chris, nervously sitting together at lunch. Their crushes on each other were so obviously mutual it was sickening to know they were both oblivious to the other’s feelings.

“Hey, Jordan.” Ashley smiled sweetly and waved back at me before glancing back at Chris with a look that screamed “get me out of this.” I decided to get her out of the situation myself while escaping the prospects of having to re meet Chris’s friends. As far as I knew, the group was entirely made up of the same people as it was when I’d changed schools 4 years prior. “Actually Chris, I’m going to go…” I paused. “To the bathroom.”

“But you just got here,” Chris’s face dropped. He knew me well enough to know I was just making an excuse.

“I drink a lot of water, and -”

“Jordan. Don’t ditch me,” Chris said. “Please.” At that moment I despised him for being a sweetheart. I couldn’t say no to Chris, no matter how much I’d wanted to.

Chris spent the next hour or so introducing me to his posse. Just as I’d suspected, it was exactly the same as it had been previously. Emily Davis, Jessica Riley, Matthew Taylor, Michael Monroe, Samantha Giddings, and Hannah and Beth Washington. I noticed there was one missing, but I didn’t dare ask in fear of reminding Chris of th at final person.

“ Sam seems nice,” I commented. “She’s probably my favorite out of everybody that you’ve introduced me to.” And I wasn’t lying. Sam stuck out like a sore thumb compared to the people she ran with. She was active, vegan – not passive-aggressive.

“Yeah, Sam’s great. Hey, I’m going to grab a drink. Do you want something?”

“A water bottle?” Chris gave me a look.

“Really?” I nodded and he left to go get the beverages, leaving me by myself near a fireplace. I took a moment to really look around at the house I was in. It was large, just short of a mansion, and old. The architecture was somewhat gothic.

“ BOO!” I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sudden scare. Someone had grabbed my shoulders hard as they shouted into my ear. I knew immediately who it was, and I was as far from happy as someone could have ever possibly been. I heard a familiar laughter as I turned around to face him, taking deep and steady breaths.

“Joshua Washington,” I said blankly. “Still fail to grow up?” Josh’s smile fades.

“Whatever your name is,” Josh repeated my tone. I couldn’t tell whether or not he had actually forgotten my name or didn’t care to use It. “Still can’t take a joke?”

“Guess not,” I shrugged. Josh stared at me, his shit-eating grin slowly returning to his face. “Or maybe you should come up with some new jokes. ‘Boo’? So last year.” I held eye contact with Joshua for what felt like an hour.

“An oldie but a goodie.” Josh’s brow twitches in frustration. He still held onto his smile but I could tell it was a struggle.

“Not a goodie if nobody fucking likes it.”

“I like it.”

“Hey, Josh! I see you’ve re-met Jordan!” Chris chimed in. Whether he knew we were about to start fighting or not was a mystery, but I was grateful for the interruption nonetheless.

“ Right, Jordan, that’s what it was,” Josh said. “I didn’t remember her at all other than the amount of crying she did.”

“The amount of crying you made me do.”

“All in good fun.”

“You tried to get pig’s blood to ‘Carrie’ me.”

“Like I said, just jokes.” Chris finally interjected.

“C’mon, Jordan, he didn’t mean anything by -” I hold my hand up to stop Chris there.

“I’m not doing this. You were in on a lot of those, Chris, you know how they hurt me.” I didn’t expect him to be on Josh’s side, but then again it wasn’t that surprising considering the amount of torture he helped exact. Chris looked down at the floor in defeat. I turn to Josh.

“I don’t know if you’ve changed any since middle school but I really hope you’ve learned the difference between pranking somebody and just being a fucking bully.” I huffed at him. I could barely see him under all of the lights but I managed to catch a glimpse of expression other than snark. For half of a second I could’ve sworn it was remorse.

It didn’t last.

“ Well. I’m not a bully, so… whatever.” Josh turned around and walked away, leaving Chris and I. I was shocked to look at Chris and see him glaring at me.

“Did you have to do that?” He asked. I raise my eyebrows in surprise.

“Do what?”

“Start a fight, just like that?” I could feel my heart sink.

“Chris, no, I didn’t -”

“Why can’t you just get over it already?” I could smell the booze on Chris’s breath. I knew he was drunk, he didn’t mean it. He couldn’t. He watched me cry enough growing up to know what kind of effects Joshua Washington had on me and my mental health. I chose to say nothing, my eyes full of tears threatening to spill over. My throat felt tight, and I knew if I said a word, all eyes would be on me as I cried in the middle of the room. So I just shake my head and shrug. I took my water bottle and headed out onto the back porch of the house – where Hannah and Beth Washington happened to be.

They noticed right away that my expression was negative. Something I’d apparently forgotten was how different from their brother the twins were, as they came to me immediately.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Hannah asked as she took my hands into her own. I swallowed.

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” I sighed, looking over the balcony and into the woods.

“Was it Josh?” Beth asked. My eyes flickered to hers. My silence was all the answer that she’d needed. “He’s an ass, for sure. But he’s not as bad as he makes himself out to be. When it comes to you we don’t know what’s wrong with him.” I’m surprised at what Beth was saying. “Have you heard that dumb stuff about ‘he’s only making fun of you because he likes you’ from, like, grade school? I think it’s like that.”

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at that. The twins ignore the obvious attitude and continued to chat with me. There was absolutely no way Joshua harbored any feelings for me other than disdain, and there was no way in HELL that it could have ever been romantic.

“Girl, don’t worry. You can hang with us.” Hannah grinned at me as she hopped excitedly. “He’ll leave you alone if we tell him to, or whatever.” I smiled at the girls. Just as I had with Chris, I could smell the booze on them and could only assume this kindness and promise of friendship was temporary. Once they were sober, they wouldn’t remember this at all. And if they did, I was sure they would regret it.

“Sure, that would be nice,” I admitted. Even if it’s just for the night, I would never complain about having friends – even if they were related to my sworn enemy.

“Great! Give me your phone!” Hannah insisted. I did as she’d asked, and next thing I knew I had their contact information. “We’ll hang out after tonight, we promise.” I nodded. I would be lying if I said that I hadn’t hoped it would happen, that these two would somehow integrate me into their lives.

It was severely unfortunate that it didn’t last long.

[ruewrote]

𝑖𝑑 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑒𝑡.

PAIRING: josh washington x fem!reader WARNINGS: no use of y/n GENRE: fluff SONG INSPIRATION: still into you by paramore WORD COUNT: 1.1k NOTE: the inspiration was from randomly seeing this post

navigation | ask | josh washington masterlist

you sat next to josh in the soft glow of the fireplace. the world outside was silent, the others fast asleep, but neither of you seemed ready to follow. there was something about these late night moments, when everything slowed down and the noise of the day faded away, that made you feel like you could stay here forever.

josh was leaning back on the couch, his legs stretched out beneath the table. his fingers tapped lightly against the fabric of the armrest in a rhythm that matched the quiet crackling of the fire. every now and then, his eyes would flicker over to you, but they'd dart away just as quickly, like he was too shy to hold your gaze. 

you’d known josh since high school, and even back then, he had a way of making you nervous, but what started as a harmless crush had grown into something much more, something you never quite found the courage to say out loud.

the two of you had been inseparable once, always laughing, always together. time had changed things, as it always does, but the connection was still there, pulsing just beneath the surface. 

you just had to reach out for it.

as josh shifted in his seat, your eyes caught something on his wrist, the worn edges of a familiar bracelet catching the firelight. your breath hitched. no way.

“is that…?” you asked, your voice trailing off, not daring to finish the thought.

josh looked down, his brows furrowing for a second before realization dawned on his face. a small, sheepish grin appeared as he held his wrist up, showing off the faded bracelet. “yeah… still got it,” he said with a chuckle, his voice playful but softer than usual. there was a hint of something vulnerable beneath the humor.

you blinked, your chest tightening as you stared at it. the bracelet was old now, the once bright threads you had carefully woven together long ago frayed and faded. you’d made it for him during your last year of high school, just a simple braided thread in his favorite colors. a silent promise. 

you’d almost forgotten about it, but here it was, still holding on after all these years.

“you’ve kept it this whole time?” you asked, your voice coming out more surprised than you intended.

josh shrugged, but his fingers were nervously playing with the bracelet’s loose threads. “i guess i’m more sentimental than i thought,” he said with a grin, though his eyes didn’t quite meet yours. he was trying to make a joke of it, but you knew better. josh wasn’t the type to hold onto things without a reason.

“you never took it off?” you pressed, this time more softly, curiosity mingled with the fluttering in your stomach. there was something almost thrilling about this realisation, that he had been carrying a little piece of you with him all this time.

josh let out a breath, leaning back a little, his gaze flickering toward the fire. “i thought about it a few times,” he admitted, his voice quieter now, the teasing edge gone. “but it felt weird, you know? like some things… just stick with you.”

your heart was doing a funny little dance in your chest, and you tried to ignore the way his words sent a warmth spreading through you. some things just stick with you. you weren’t sure if he meant the bracelet or something deeper, but the thought of it made your cheeks heat up.

“honestly, i didn’t think you’d even remember it,” you said, a little embarrassed by the way your voice wavered. “it was just a silly little thing i made.”

josh finally looked at you then, his eyes meeting yours for real, there was something different in them. something softer, more open than you’d seen in a long time. “i didn’t forget,” he said, his voice steady. “i didn’t want to.”

for a moment, you couldn’t speak. you’d spent so many years thinking of josh as this untouchable thing. your best friend, your crush, the guy you never quite had the courage to confess to. but sitting here, seeing him hold onto something that felt so small yet so significant, made you wonder if he felt it too.

“you’re such a sap,” you teased, but your words were gentle, almost affectionate.

josh laughed, this time fully, his usual confidence returning. “hey, i’m just saying– i wear your jewelry. not everyone can say that.”

“oh, yeah? well, don't go thinking you’re special now,” you shot back with a grin, feeling the ease between you both settling back into place, though your heart still raced beneath it all.

he leaned back into the headrest of his seat and grinning back at you. “well, i don’t see you making bracelets for anyone else.”

you bit your lip, trying to hide the smile that threatened to spread across your face. you leaned in a little too, closing some of the space between you. “maybe i’ll have to start charging for them,” you said, your tone playful.

josh raised an eyebrow, his smile widening. “oh, i’d definitely pay for this one. it’s totally vintage now.”

the two of you shared a laugh, the moment lighter, but the air between you had shifted. something had changed and you both seemed to feel it. 

“you really didn’t have to keep it, ya know?” you said, a little more softly this time, looking down at the bracelet as you spoke.

“i wanted to,” he replied, his voice just as soft, no hesitation in his words. “it’s… it’s a reminder of a time when things were easier, you know? when we were just… us.”

your heart clenched at his words, and you couldn’t help but reach out, your fingers brushing over the frayed threads. the touch was light, but it felt like it carried more weight than anything else you’d ever done. “i’m glad you did,” you whispered, barely loud enough to be heard.

josh’s hand shifted slightly, his fingers brushing yours as you both looked at the bracelet, a quiet moment passing between you. when you finally met his eyes again, there was something new there, for the first time in years.

“guess that this makes me your favourite, huh?” he said with a teasing smirk, trying to break the tension.

you smiled, your heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time. “you’ve always been my favourite, josh.”

this time, it was josh’s turn to freeze, his eyes searching yours, and for the briefest moment, you thought you saw that same emotion you’d kept hidden for so long reflected back at you.

and in that moment, you realized that maybe you weren’t the only one holding on to something after all.

comments and reblogs are appreciated ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

© ruewrote 2024.

[batboyblog]

Things Biden and the Democrats did, this week #9

March 9-15 2024

The IRS launched its direct file pilot program. Tax payers in 12 states, Florida, New Hampshire, Nevada, South Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Washington, Wyoming, Arizona, Massachusetts, California and New York, can now file their federal income taxes for free on-line directly with the IRS. The IRS plans on taking direct file nation wide for next year's tax season. Tax Day is April 15th so if you're in one of those states you have a month to check it out.

The Department of Education’s Office of Civil Rights opened an investigation into the death of Nex Benedict. the OCR is investigating if Benedict's school district violated his civil rights by failing to protect him from bullying. President Biden expressed support for trans and non-binary youth in the aftermath of the ruling that Benedict's death was a suicide and encouraged people to seek help in crisis

Vice President Kamala Harris became the first sitting Vice-President (or President) to visit an abortion provider. Harris' historic visit was to a Planned Parenthood clinic in St. Paul Minnesota. This is the last stop on the Vice-President's Reproductive Rights Tour that has taken her across the country highlighting the need for reproductive health care.

President Biden announced 3.3 billion dollars worth of infrastructure projects across 40 states designed to reconnect communities divided by transportation infrastructure. Communities often split decades ago by highways build in the 1960s and 70s. These splits very often affect communities of color splitting them off from the wider cities and making daily life far more difficult. These reconnection projects will help remedy decades of economic racism.

The Biden-Harris administration is taking steps to eliminate junk fees for college students. These are hidden fees students pay to get loans or special fees banks charged to students with bank accounts. Also the administration plans to eliminate automatic billing for textbooks and ban schools from pocketing leftover money on student's meal plans.

The Department of Interior announced $120 million in investments to help boost Climate Resilience in Tribal Communities. The money will support 146 projects effecting over 100 tribes. This comes on top of $440 million already spent on tribal climate resilience by the administration so far

The Department of Energy announced $750 million dollars in investment in clean hydrogen power. This will go to 52 projects across 24 states. As part of the administration's climate goals the DoE plans to bring low to zero carbon hydrogen production to 10 million metric tons by 2030, and the cost of hydrogen to $1 per kilogram of hydrogen produced by 2031.

The Department of Energy has offered a 2.3 billion dollar loan to build a lithium processing plant in Nevada. Lithium is the key component in rechargeable batteries used it electric vehicles. Currently 95% of the world's lithium comes from just 4 countries, Australia, Chile, China and Argentina. Only about 1% of the US' lithium needs are met by domestic production. When completed the processing plant in Thacker Pass Nevada will produce enough lithium for 800,000 electric vehicle batteries a year.

The Department of Transportation is making available $1.2 billion in funds to reduce decrease pollution in transportation. Available in all 50 states, DC and Puerto Rico the funds will support projects by transportation authorities to lower their carbon emissions.

The Geothermal Energy Optimization Act was introduced in the US Senate. If passed the act will streamline the permitting process and help expand geothermal projects on public lands. This totally green energy currently accounts for just 0.4% of the US' engird usage but the Department of Energy estimates the potential geothermal energy supply is large enough to power the entire U.S. five times over.

The Justice for Breonna Taylor Act was introduced in the Senate banning No Knock Warrants nationwide

A bill was introduced in the House requiring the US Postal Service to cover the costs of any laid fees on bills the USPS failed to deliver on time

The Senate Confirmed 3 more Biden nominees to be life time federal Judges, Jasmine Yoon the first Asian-America federal judge in Virginia, Sunil Harjani in Illinois, and Melissa DuBose the first LGBTQ and first person of color to serve as a federal judge in Rhode Island. This brings the total number of Biden judges to 185

[16woodsequ]

Things People Seem to Forget About Steve Rogers (aka the past is complex)

Things in the future didn't happen in a vacuum, and while Steve missed a lot of stuff while he was in the ice, he would have seen the roots of things like the Civil Rights, Women's Rights and even LGBTQ+ Rights movements in his time.

While I'm sure Steve encountered a lot of people expecting certain right-wing behaviours from him, due to his birth year and the things he missed in the ice, this doesn't mean he would act that way—even right out of the ice.

But first lets take a look at the things Steve missed and see what he did in fact know:

The atom bomb. Steve never saw the atomic fallout, but what did he see? Hydra bombs literally being flown to his home city. There is also a possibility that as a specialty team, he learned about the German Nuclear Program during the war. His unit was tied to the Strategic Science Reserve, so I wouldn't be surprised if between that, and Hydra's bomb initiatives, Steve was well aware of the potential of a bomb threat. I doubt Steve has clearance to know about the Manhattan project, and I think he would be horrified to learn about the impact of the atom bomb on Japan (especially since he essentially thwarted the same thing from happening to New York) but majorly powerful bombs would not surprise him.

• The Cold War. Steve may not have experience the Cold War, but he grew up surrounded by the outcome of the First World War after the Communist take over of Russia. The debates surrounding Communism, Socialism, and Capitalism aren't new. Steve would have grown up with them and would probably be familiar with American pro-capitalist, anti-communist rhetoric. But would he agree?

Here's some things we know about Steve: He's an artist, he grew up during the Depression which was heavily mitigated by socialist measures, he grew up poor, he grew up disabled. As an artist Steve would be well aware of the debates between the political movements, and with his background, and the success of Roosevelt's New Deal reforms, it would not surprise me if Steve leaned more towards the Socialist side of the scale.

All this to say: Steve would not be unfamiliar with the tension between Russia and the USA. Especially since even though they were allies during the war, there were already concerns that the USSR wasn't so much 'liberating' the countries they drove Germany out of, as putting them under new management.

Steve would be familiar with the tensions underlying the Cold War, and his background might lead him to have a critical view of some of the pro-Capitalist propaganda that came out during the Cold War. While I don't think Steve would approve of Russia's methods and the ultimate outcome of Communism there, I don't think he would approve of the Red Scare Witch Hunt that happened in the States either.

• Civil Rights Movement. While Steve missed the major changes that occurred during the 50s and 60s, he would not be unfamiliar with movements for equality. Steve would also not be unaware of the inequality that minorities faced in his country.

For example:

National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) was established in 1909 and is still run today. The NAACP fought and fights against discrimination and advocates for equality.

In the 30s President Roosevelt responded to "to charges that many blacks were the "last hired and first fired," [his administration] instituted changes that enabled people of all races to obtain needed job training and employment. These programs brought public works employment opportunities to African Americans, especially in the North" (Link)

"The first precedent-setting local and state level court cases to desegregate Mexican and African American schooling were decided during [the late 1930s]" (Link)

In 1941 thousands of Black Americans threatened to march on Washington for equal employments rights which pushed Roosevelt to issue an executive order that "opened national defense jobs and other government jobs to all Americans regardless of race, creed, color or national origin." (Link)

The Double Victory or Double V Campaign during the war was an explicit campaign to win the war against fascism in Europe and the war against racism as home.

All this to say, Steve would not be unfamiliar with many of the issues tackled during the Civil Rights Movement of the 50s and 60s.

Not only that, but Steve led a multi-racial special unit during the war during a time of active army segregation. Not only does he have a Black man on his team, but also a Japanese man. This would have most definitely led to backlash from higher command as well as discrimination from other units against Jones and Morita. Steve and the entire Howling Commandos would be explicitly aware of prejudice against two of their members and likely had to fight for them many times.

• Anything space travel. It's true Steve wouldn't know anything about attempts to reach the moon. But there were still several space discoveries he could know about, especially since he and Bucky are clearly interested in scientific discoveries, considering how they went to the Stark Exbo before Bucky shipped out.

Some discoveries:

Hubble's Law: In 1929 Hubble published evidence for an ever expanding universe, and thus provided evidence of the Big Bang theory.

1930: Discovery of Pluto (makes me chuckle to think this is a relatively new discovery for Steve and he wakes up to find it is a dwarf-planet now. You think Millennials are protective of Pluto? I think Steve would be too 😆.)

1937: "the first intimation that most matter in the universe is `dark matter'"

Personally I think Steve would be absolutely amazed by the advances in space travel.

• Women's Rights. Like with Civil Rights, while Steve may have missed the large movements during the 50s and 60s, he was around for the early movements. The 60s movement is called Second Wave Feminism for a reason. This is because there was already many pushes for women equality in Steve's time.

For example:

1920: White women win the right to vote. This means Steve's mother first voted in his lifetime. I feel this alone would make Steve heavily aware of inequality faced by women. (As a side note I feel that Sarah always emphasized voting to Steve since it was such a major development in her lifetime.)

Also in the 20s the Flapper trend rose, along with hemlines. Women's skirts were shorter and they smoked and drank with men. Middle-class and working-class women also worked outside of the home. The 1920s-1930s 'modern' woman is very different from the Victorian vision of a woman in petticoats and skirts.

Early Birth Control movement: Was "initiated by a public health nurse, Margaret Sanger, just as the suffrage drive was nearing its victory. The idea of woman’s right to control her own body, and especially to control her own reproduction and sexuality, added a visionary new dimension to the ideas of women’s emancipation. This movement not only endorsed educating women about existing birth control methods. It also spread the conviction that meaningful freedom for modern women meant they must be able to decide for themselves whether they would become mothers, and when."

1936: A Supreme Court decision declassified birth control information as obscene. Legalised doctor-prescribed contraceptives.

WW2 Watershed: Women serve in the army and work factory jobs. The government establishes universal childcare while women work.

Women also wore pants and form fitting clothes to work in factories. We also see Peggy wearing pants during the last assault on Hydra. While Steve may need to get used to modern fashion, he would already be familiar with the 'morale outrage' over women's clothes in his time, and probably try to manage his surprise in private as well as possible.

• LGBTQ+ Rights. Like with the rest of the equality movements, LGBTQ+ rights movements also started before the late 1900s.

1924: "Society for Human Rights is founded by Henry Gerber in Chicago. The society is the first gay rights organization as well as the oldest documented in America." This organisation was broken up soon after founding due to arrests, but it published "the first American publication for homosexuals, Friendship and Freedom."

In the 1920s and 30s "the gay and lesbian movement started taking shape. Social analysts began rejecting prior medical definitions of "inversion" or "homosexuality" as deviant.

Communities of men and women with same-sex affiliations began to grow in urban areas. Their right to gather in public places such as bars was tenuous, and police raids and harassment were common." (Link)

WW2 Watershed: While many LGBTQ people lived in rural areas or outside 'queer neighbourhoods' the war brought people from all backgrounds together. "As with most young soldiers, many had never left their homes before, and the war provided them an opportunity to find community, camaraderie, and, in some cases, first loves. These new friendships gave gay and lesbian GIs refuge from the hostility that surrounded them and allowed for a distinct subculture to develop within the military."

They still had to hide their identities for fear of persecution and a 'blue discharge', however "Gay and lesbian veterans of World War II became some of the first to fight military discrimination and blue discharges in the years following the war."

It's unclear how much Steve would have known about the gay and lesbian rights movement. But in the comics he has a gay friend Arnie Roth, and there are many meta posts (X X X) about how Steve may have lived in a queer neighbourhood.

And, according to my history professor, gay and lesbian soldiers were often protected by their friends in the army instead of outed. This is not to downplay the discrimination and pain outed veterans faced, but there was a comaraderie and understanding that developed between soldiers that protected many gay soldiers.

• Computer and the internet. The seeds of modern computers began during World War Two. Arguably it began earlier with Ada Lovelace. While technology has changed a lot for Steve, there is a long history of it's development.

Colossus Computer: Kept secret until the 70s, it's unclear if Steve's association with the SSR, Peggy (who was a code breaker before SSR) and Howard, would have led him to know anything about the "the world's first programmable, electronic, digital computer", but we see electric screens and machines being used in Captain America: The First Avenger. So he would know something of those mechanisms.

Also the first American TV was broadcasted in the 1939 World Fair, And since Steve and Bucky are already shown going to a science fair, I believe it is reasonable for Steve to know about the concept of television, though it looks much different in modern day.

• Rise of Neo-Nazis. Steve already saw the rise of fascism in his own country before the war, so while I think he would be horrified and saddened to learn of the Neo-Nazi movement, I don't think he would be surprised.

Because:

Eugenics: A large part of the Nazi campaign, this part of the movement originated and was inspired by the United States Eugenics movement. "It is important to appreciate that within the U.S. and European scientific communities these ideas were not fringe but widely held and taught in universities."

Lobotomies and institutionalisations were part of the treatments for disabled and 'weak-minded' individuals during Steve's time. With Sarah being a nurse it is likely Steve knew of these treatments and more. And as a disabled child of immigrants, I have no doubts Steve brushed up with eugenics beliefs many times.

1939: More than 20,000 people attended a Nazi rally in Madison Square while "[a]bout 100,000 anti-Nazi protesters gathered around the arena in protest".

In the comics Steve canonically has a Jewish friend, Arnie Roth. If he wasn't part of the protests against the Nazi rally, he would have heard about it and known about the rise of antisemitic sentiment in the US before the outbreak of the war.

So Where Does That Leave Us?

Steve has a history of anti-racist behaviour. While he would still have a lot to learn from the Civil Rights Movement and no doubt has unconscious biases he grew up with, he also explicitly builds a multi-racial team that would have led to clashes with systemic racism in the army. This would have inevitably led to him and the Howling Commandos taking an anti-racist stance in protection of their members.

Would Steve say the N-word? Likely not. The N-Word already held negative connotations by the 19th and early-20th century. I doubt Jones would be willing to follow a man who would knowing use the insult. 'Coloured' or 'Negro' were seen as the more acceptable terms. So Steve may use those words at first, instead of 'Black' or 'African-American'. 'Negro' is a controversial term for some Black Americans, so this would be something for him to learn, but he would not purposely by insulting or hurtful. And I believe he would adapt as quickly as possible upon learning.

Steve saw the early steps of many social movements. Given what we know about Steve—artist, disabled, immigrant, poor, raised by a single mom, gay and Jewish friend, potentially lived around queer people, worked with Peggy and smiled when she punched a sexiest, and built a multi-racial team—Steve would not only be aware of the social movements of his time, but he would be happy to learn of the developments after he went into the ice.

While it would take some time for him to learn all the changes that happened, Steve's background would led him to be pleased with the changes in society. This is the opposite of being racist, sexist, and homophobic. Some things might take some adjusting for Steve to get used to, but he is already open-minded and has a frame of reference for many of the social changes that happened.

People sometimes bring up Steve's Catholic upbringing to argue about some beliefs he might have. But while I do think this upbringing would lead to some biases, I think Steve's life experience helped counter, or helped him unlearn some of those biases, even before he hit the ice.

Also, as an Irish-Catholic, Steve would have faced some discrimination of his own. It is most certainly not on the same level as other minorities, and things were better in the 20th century. Being very clear, any discrimination Steve faced for being Irish-Catholic would not be systemic or commonplace like racism. But adding his heritage to the rest of Steve's background helps give us a better idea of why he was already open to social movements like the Civil Rights movement before the ice. And it may have made him already more understanding of LGBTQ+ people, who he may have lived around, even if he grew up being taught certain biases.

Other Things We Forget About Steve

He is quite tech-savvy. While Steve would have a lot to learn, we know he is capable. There are a lot of jokes about his technical know-how in Avengers, but I think he's actually managing very well considering it's probably only been a few weeks or months since he came out of the ice.

Examples:

Deleted scene where we see Steve using a laptop in his apartment. He presses the spacebar to pause a video, which is a keyboard shortcut. So not only can he set up a laptop to watch a video, but he already knows key shortcuts.

Deleted scene where waitress mentions 'wireless'. Steve is confused and thinks she means radio. But I think he actually knows about wi-fi at this point, but probably had never heard it referred to as 'wireless' before. By this point he knows radio is not as common, so his real confusion is why the waitress is offering him 'free radio'. If she had said free wi-fi (the more typical phrase in my opinion) I think he would have understood.

Canon scene of Steve helping Tony fix the Helicarrier engines. This is my favourite evidence because Tony asks Steve to look at the relays and Steve makes a quip that they 'seem to run on some sort of electricity' indicating he is out of his depth. But we never see Tony tell Steve what to do. Steve figures out how to fix the relays himself. Tony is busy with the debris in the rotors and the next thing we see is Steve telling Tony the relays are all good.

Steve is much better at adapting and figuring out technology than we give him credit for. This doesn't mean he won't be anxious or uncomfortable with the sheer amount of stuff he has to learn (especially if everyone keeps making jokes about it to him). But by 2014, it's clear he's already mastered all of it, which is amazing when you think about it, because that's only two years of learning.

Steve is very book smart. In the comics Steve goes to art college, implying he finished high school. Even if he did drop out of high school to work, we know Steve is very smart.

We see him unloading a whole suitcase of books in the barracks before he got the serum.

The mental math is must take to throw the shield at the right angles for it to bounce back is insane.

Steve is also known as a master tactician. So it is clear he has the brains and smarts to run his team during the war. Not only that, but he is not just Captain in name. He actually has that rank, which means he passed the Captain's exam. I also have a feeling he would have needed to pass some kind of evaluation to get the serum in the first place.

We see in Steve's 2014 apartment that his bookshelves are full of history books. Steve is a veracious reader and spends a lot of his time catching up on what he missed. Things he didn't learn or were taught differently growing up would definitely exist, but Steve is actively working to counter that.

Steve would swear. Swearing has been a constant throughout all of history. So too, the backlash against profanity. Even if Steve grew up being told not to swear he would have heard it. And, Steve became a soldier. If he didn't swear before the war, he most definitely picked up some of it then.

I think Captain America isn't supposed to swear, and I think Steve would be aware of this perception of the symbol of him. But I think when Steve is comfortable with people, he would swear. We see in Avengers he doesn't swear, but in Avengers: Age of Ultron, he does.

We joke about Steve and the "Language" line, but I think that line has something to do with Steve's history of being perceived as a symbol and as Captain America since he said it 'just slipped out'. So, while Steve may have been encouraged not to swear growing up, and expected not to swear as Captain America, I fully believe that soldier, veteran, and Irish man Steve Rogers does swear.

Wrap up

I hope you liked this deep dive into Steve's history and character.

I think it can be easy to take the past as a lump sum and view everyone in the past through one lens. We know the past was racist, sexist, and homophobic, so we view everyone from the past that way.

And while it's true things were different back then, people were most definitely fighting for change and aware of the issues. There is also a lot of nuance to the past, and a lot that can be gleaned from what we know about Steve.

It's true that Steve would have a lot to learn when it comes to terminology and specific technology, but I believe Steve's background would prepare him for a lot of the social changes that happened after he went into the ice.

[panandinpain0]

Could I ask for an Edward Cullen x male reader where the reader is Bella’s best friend (who moved right after her)- He ends up becoming infatuated with him instead, and they just have a happy time??

This is Different...

Twilight timmmmeee- time to reach into the archives of my memories and pull random facts from my ass.

Thank you for the request! I hope you enjoy <3

@@@

Requested by: Anon

Edward Cullen x Male!Reader

---

Bella had to kept telling herself to wait just one more week, because then (Y/N) would be there and she could vent to him about how weird this town was.

The two had grown up together in Arizona and were practically inseparable. Their parents did that thing where they were convinced Bella and (Y/N) were going to date and get married and all of that, which just isn't happening. But it made his dad easier to convince when they asked if (Y/N) could move to Forks, Washington with Bella.

(Y/N)'s parents had just gotten a divorce and his dad was moving anyways, and he was old enough that he just wanted to stay with his dad (and little sister that would come to visit every once in a while) until he was an adult.

So after Bella left to Forks, (Y/N) and his dad started packing their bags and started their trip.

Bella could not wait to tell him about the school, the weird but oddly charming students, and the standoffish Cullen family.

Finally the week came to an end and Charlie drove Bella to pick them up from the airport.

(Y/N)'s father, James, had planned to buy a car once they got to the new house, but Charlie had so kindly offered to drive them until he did get one.

At the airport Bella ran up to (Y/N) and he caught her in a hug, laughing at her eagerness.

"Looks like somebody missed me!" (Y/N) squeezed out a laugh, Bella cutting off his air supply with the grip of her hug.

"It's been absolute agony without you here, I have so much to tell you- and warn you about."

"Oh damn, that doesn't sound good," (Y/N) replied as Bella helped pick up one of his bags.

"It's crazy out here." She nodded, and the two shared a look that only childhood friends could share.

"Any cute guys?" they had a hushed conversation to the car, Charlie and James too wrapped up talking about fishing to pay attention.

"I'm sure you'd find them cute," Bella scoffed, throwing a teasing smile over her shoulder as she loaded the trunk.

(Y/N) scoffed back, betrayed at her diss.

"I'm sure you went for the stalker-ish one anyways." With a sly smirk he got into the backseat, closing the door on her denials.

...

(Y/N) had settled in, conveniently living next door to the Swan's house, and drove with Bella in her old truck to school that Monday.

"So, Jessica is into Mike and Angela is with Eric. And Tyler flirts with everybody, but nobody goes out with him?" (Y/N) recapped from the tangent of drama Bella had been giving him.

"Yup, pretty much," Bella confirmed, turning into the school parking lot.

"And all of the Cullen's are super hot- but they're dating each other?" (Y/N) asked, more suspiciously this time.

"Well, they're all adopted, but yes. Except for Edward- but I already told you what happened."

"Yeah the weird smelling thing and the he disappeared just to come back with a different eye color."

"They could just be colored contacts," Bella corrected, still not sure herself.

"Strange... Welp, let's do this," (Y/N) sighed as he got out of the passengers seat of the car.

Bella shrunk into his side, all of the attention on her once again. Last time it was because she was the new girl, but now it's because she had her attractive best friend with her.

"Yo, Bella!" Mike called out, giving (Y/N) a confused glare.

Bella waved back and started walking over, (Y/N) following at her side. Leaning down to whisper in her ear (Y/N) held back a laugh, "You left out the part about Mike's crush on you."

Bella just rolled her eyes as they met up with the group.

"Everybody, (Y/N)- (Y/N), everybody," Bella lazily introduced.

"You just moved here, right?" Angela asked, holding Eric's hand as they lent up against Tyler's van behind them.

"Yes, I did. I grew up with Bella in Arizona and where she goes I go," (Y/N) laughed, nudging Bella in the side jokingly.

That's when he noticed her distracted state. Following her line of sight he realized she was staring at a car full of probably the most attractive people he'd ever seen.

"Who's that?" (Y/N) asked the group, acting clueless to get more information.

"Those are the Cullen's-" Jessica jumped right into the rant about their family.

When she was done she came closer to (Y/N), grabbing hold of his hand as she batted her eyelashes at him. "Let me show you around!"

Shrugging, (Y/N) waved to Bella, who rolled her eyes at Jessica's obvious flirting.

...

"Where'd you find that guy? He's so hot," Jessica gushed to Bella at lunch. (Y/N) hadn't sat down yet so she'd finally gotten a second to ask.

"We grew up together- he wasn't that hot when we first met, trust me," Bella almost snorted, playing with the food on her tray.

"You guys aren't like..." trailing off she wiggled her eyebrows to imply.

"No- god, no," Bella laughed. "He's like my brother."

"Oh, good. Less competition then," Jessica sighed.

"I don't think you'll be having much luck either, Jessica," Angela pointed out, nodding in (Y/N)'s direction.

He was flirting with some guy in the lunch line, the guys face bright red as he laughed at something (Y/N) had said.

Jessica looked heartbroken but Angela and Bella just laughed about it.

When (Y/N) finally joined them Bella raised an eyebrow at him.

"What?" (Y/N) shrugged indignantly, opening his milk carton.

"Not even a full day in and you're already jumping on them," Bella teased, popping a grape into her mouth.

"Hey, you told me there wasn't any cute guys here, I just wanted to see what he was like," (Y/N) protested. "I didn't even like him that much. Kind of a dick."

Hearing a sudden and loud snort of laughter, (Y/N) and Bella turned around to see the Cullen's lunch table, Edward hiding his face as he looked towards the windows as his siblings glared at (Y/N). Or maybe they just all had RBF- save for the short girl with the pixie-like hair. She smiled at (Y/N) and waved, so he waved back.

"They're so weird," Jessica whispered as she dug into her lunch.

"How much have you actually talked to them?" (Y/N) questioned, taking a bite of his apple.

Jessica didn't answer for a minute, looking kind of embarrassed. Angela rolled her eyes, answering for her. "Once- and it was Edward rejecting her."

(Y/N) snorted and then apologized, "Sorry. It just seems like you're holding a grudge on people you barely know." He then changed the subject, not wanting to make an enemy out of Jessica.

She really seemed like a good friend, he didn't want to go pushing her buttons, that'd be mean.

...

"Mr. Molina, it's nice to meet you. I'm your new student, (Y/N)."

"Ahh, Mr. (L/N), is it?" (Y/N) nodded. "You can sit in front of Edward Cullen. You're lucky we had an empty seat," he joked, pointing to where he was talking about.

That was when (Y/N) got his good first look at Edward Cullen. His gaze was intense, just like Bella had said, but it was less scary than she described it.

Seemed like a guy worth getting to know.

Walking over to the desk with Bella, (Y/N) held out his hand to Edward. "You're Edward Cullen, right? Mr. Molina told me to sit in front of you, but I've heard stories and wanted to introduce myself." He smiled confidently.

Edward hesitantly took his hand and shook it, (Y/N) not reacting to the hard coldness of his skin.

Or at least he didn't show it- (Y/N) was immediately thrown off but didn't want to put off this attractive guy.

"Like you said, I'm Edward. It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise." (Y/N) winked and sat in his chair, not looking back at Edward or Bella once.

Bella just rolled her eyes with good nature. She'd seen him do this before, if she'd felt uncomfortable or threatened by someone, (Y/N) would draw the attention to himself. That's what worked about their friendship, he could take the attention that she didn't want.

At the end of class, (Y/N) packed up his things and then helped Bella do the same. He waved to Edward with a "Bye!" and they left.

Out in the parking lot his siblings all waited for him by the car.

"What's up?" Emmett asked, his arm around Rosalie.

Alice squealed, "Oh! It happened, didn't it? I thought it was Bella at first but then I saw him and just knew it would happen!" She jumped up and down and clapped her hands.

"What happened?" Rosalie questioned again, Jasper smirking as he sensed Edward's emotions.

"He fell in love," Alice stage-whispered. She was teasing him, of course, but Edward grumbled all the same.

They all piled into the car but before Edward got in he looked across the lot to see (Y/N) leaning on the truck hood talking to Bella.

He hadn't fallen in love. He couldn't- not with a human.

With Bella it was just an obscene thirst... but this was different.

---

Sorry to cut this short, I wouldn't be opposed to writing more for this! I just think this is a good ending and leaves an open spot for a potential part 2!

Hope you liked it anon!

-Author Max <3

[meazalykov]

the younger morgan

alex morgan x morgan!USWNT!reader

part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six

Growing up in the Morgan household, I was always known as my own individual person. Y/n Morgan. I am described by my peers as someone who’s kind, sensitive, and humble. However, to some of the public and people who barely know of me, I am known as  "Alex Morgan's little sister." 

It wasn't a title I despised while growing up. Being born 14 years after her, I was adopted by the Morgans at birth. My sister and parents have been my family for my entire life, even if we aren’t blood. They’ve surrounded me in a blanket of love while supporting my athletic, famous sister at the same time.

Alex won her first World Cup in 2015 when I was eleven. I remember sitting in the stadium, the air electric with cheers and chants, watching her lift that trophy high. Having my sister as my idol while growing up was a blessing that most girls would dream of.

The pride I felt was immense, but it was always mixed with a yearning.

I played as a striker while growing up, just like Alex. My feet scored goals in every match i’ve had minutes in. By the time I was old enough to transition into taking soccer seriously, it was clear I had inherited the Morgan soccer genes, even if I wasn’t blood-related. 

With the best coaches in the country guiding me, I quickly became one of the best U21 strikers in the world, just like Alex. Success in high school championships, the USYNT national team (before my senior team call up in November 2022), and in my first year of college landed me a spot on the San Diego Wave alongside my sister. I forfeited my college eligibility so I can jump into taking soccer seriously, which I did.

Yet, I hide the fact that the inevitable comparisons to Alex bothered me. Anytime I made a mistake, I had people on social media saying that “Alex at your age would’ve never made that mistake!” and more that were way harsher and mean. I felt a hollowness inside me because I had to accept that San Diego wasn’t the club for me. Something I didn’t realize until half-way into the season.

This wasn't about the love or support I received from my family or the fans. It was about forging my path, I wanted to be my own person away from Alex. I love her so much, but I wanted people to see me for who I really am. I needed a moment which would give me the reassurance that my career was truly mine.

One afternoon, after a particularly grueling training session, I collapsed onto my soft beige colored couch for a nap. I knew I had plans with Jaedyn, Naomi, and Maria later— but I knew I could fit in a good three hour nap before I had to get ready for the night. However the ring of my phone jolted me awake after an hour into my nap. My eyebrows knitted at the sight of my agent's name, Maggie, flashing on the screen.

Usually, Maggie never calls unless we are discussing deals or contract negotiations. However, I asked her two weeks ago if she could contact SD Wave about putting me on the transfer market. Maggie said that wasn’t needed since there was something else that would excite me– but she didn’t explain what. 

"Y/n, I have some exciting news!!!" Maggie began without giving me the chance to say hi, her voice brimming with enthusiasm as I clicked on the speaker option. I rubbed my tired eyes trying to pay attention to what she’s gonna say.

“What happened?” I ask, sitting up from my laid down position and sitting criss-crossed on my couch.

"You know how you asked about a possible transfer? Well I already had a few offers coming in for you before you asked—'' Maggie started as I heard a few clicks on her side of the call, I’m assuming she's clicking stuff on her computer while on the phone with me. 

“So– *click*--- *click* — okay! There are a lot of NWSL clubs that have put in an offer for you. Houston, Gotham, Orlando, Kansas, and Washington have sent in their offers— but I understand that you wanted to go to Europe, is that correct?” Maggie says as I bite the skin around my nail beds. Growing up, I’ve always admired European clubs and the different cultures  Europe has. Playing in Europe would expose me to a better challenge that I’ve wanted in my career. A good chance to (hopefully) play in the Champion’s League too, another thing my sister won in 2017.

“Yes, that is correct.” I say, trying to sound as normal as possible. I am nervous, knowing that this call could change my life. 

“Okay- well that's amazing because several European clubs are interested in you. You have many clubs to choose from— Chelsea, Manchester City, Arsenal, Tottenham, Real Madrid, Madrid CFF, PSG, Wolfsburg— those clubs in particular all offered you a contract. Barcelona showed interest too but you’re not a free agent and due to their financial struggles, they cannot sign you unless you were free. However—- Bayern Munich in Germany offered you a very great deal– a four year contract with add ons—the salary they’re offering along with the add-ons is way better than all of the others. I feel like you would love this club." Maggie commented. Outside of work, Maggie and I had a somewhat good relationship for people who try to remain professional. Maggie had a good intuition and can read people, which means that she knows how I work and how my personality is in detail. 

Hearing about the clubs– my heart pounded in my chest at Bayern Munich. The name alone sent a feeling inside of my body that I couldn’t explain. I placed my hands on my forehead as I felt overwhelmed from the amount of clubs I could choose from. However, my curiosity and intuition wanted to look more into the Bayern Munich offer. 

“Maggie— I can’t lie—Bayern Munich is sticking to me right now.” I say, dragging out my last words as my voice breaks into a yawn. Training was intense today. 

“Okay! Okay! Here’s what we can do— I can come over now and drop off the documents to you— you can look over them and we can have an in-person meeting on your day off from training next Thursday at lunch, deal?” Maggie said. I can sense her smile through the phone call as I felt relieved from having to make such a quick decision. It's Friday so I have six days to make a final decision. 

"Deal," I said, barely able to handle the fact that my nervousness turned into small excitement. I couldn’t tell anybody about this but that was okay with me.

Thursday came and I chose to move to Munich in June. I can spend the season, before the olympics, with San Diego then i’ll move to play for Bayern on the four-year contract afterwards. I couldn’t tell anybody the news until I got the green-light to do so from Maggie. 

Keeping this news from Alex and my friends was one of the hardest things I've ever done. Alex was not just my sister but also my mentor and my rock. But I knew I had to wait until everything was finalized before telling her. She should understand that part. Meanwhile, rumors swirled online, speculating about my potential move to Europe in the month afterwards.

One evening as I played with Charlie, in Alex's living room, I could feel the weight of my secret growing heavier. I look at my niece with a light smile as she colored in a fairytale themed coloring book I got her last christmas. I am going to miss seeing her every-week when I move to Germany.

Eventually, Alex finished what she had to do in her kitchen and picked up Charlie. The little girl complained before her mother explained that it was late and it was time for bed. Its 8:30 which wasn’t late in my eyes but Charlie is a child so— 

After Alex put Charlie to bed, and after I cleaned up after Charlies crayon mess, she joined me in the living room and sat beside me on the couch, her expression serious.

"Y/n— we have to talk.” Alex said. My nerves were on fire hearing Alex say that. I knew she was going to mention Bayern— I can’t hide it anymore. The rumors on social media are increasing and everyone knows my move to Munich is inevitable, even if I haven’t addressed it yet. 

“I know.” I respond, my right leg is crossed over my left one as I cross my arms together.

“Are the rumors online true? You know I don’t like to search the media for answers, but the rumors are increasing and everyone is positive that they’re correct on their suspicions— Are you leaving here to play for Bayern?" Alex asked, her eyes searching mine for answers.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself. I couldn’t lie to her "Yes, Alex, they're true. I'm going to play Bayern Munich in June."

After saying this, I thought Alex would be happy for me right away. 

However, her concern was palpable. "But why, Y/n? Why are you moving so far away? We have everything here."

"That's why, Alex," I replied, struggling to keep my voice steady. "I need to do this for myself. I want a new challenge and seeking something new has been my goal for since the off-season. I need to know if I can make it—-- without always being compared to you." I struggled to say the last part.

The argument that followed was heated but subdued, mindful of Charlie sleeping nearby. Alex didn't understand my need to step away, to find my own path. 

“Everyone knows you’re a great player, you have a higher record than me this season!! You don’t need to leave the country.” Alex argued. 

“Well you played for Lyon and Spurs at one point, which is outside of America—- the NWSL isn’t the only league in the world and I need to grow. If your concern is about safety, I promise i’ll be able to take care of myself. I need this Alex— You know I am a responsible person!” I stood up from the couch. Alex followed and looked at me with concern.

“You are– I’m not saying you’re not responsible– but you’re going to leave everything behind!” 

“No I am not? I will always come back during International breaks!” I argue. 

“Okay– but you shouldn’t “need” to move to Germany. You’re going to leave your friends behind too Y/n!” Alex continued to argue. My blood boiled at her words. 

"You know, Why can’t you just be supportive!!?? I can’t do this anymore–” I say as I ran to put on my shoes by the door, grabbing my tote bag with all of my items inside. 

“I'm glad I'm moving away Alex. Maybe they'll respect me as a good player and my own person– and not just Alex Morgan's sister!" I stormed out of her apartment, the rift between us widening.

We didn't speak after that night. Even at training with the San Diego Wave, we maintained a professional distance, our conversations limited to the bare necessities or anything related to Charlie. The silence was deafening, but I was resolute. This was my decision to play for Bayern, she needs to respect it.

When the SheBelieves Cup came around, Alex and I both made the roster, as usual. This was my last international break as a San Diego player. Since i’ll be living in Germany by the time the Korea friendlies happen in June. 

On the national team, I found solace in my closest friends Jaedyn, Sophia, Trinity, and Mallory. Jaedyn plays at San Diego with me so she has a better understanding about the situation. I told her that I am moving to Munich and we had a bittersweet moment, at least she was supportive of my decision. All of the other girls sensed something was wrong but respected my need for space, assuming that they shouldn’t come in-between family business. Especially if one of their captains is involved. 

On the pitch against Japan for the first she-believes game, my performance was excellent on the pitch. In my mind, I knew I wanted to do good so Bayern fans would be excited about my transfer to their club. 

After scoring twice against Japan, we were now in a penalty shootout with Canada. This is the second-time we’ve gon into penalties this year together. Once in the gold-cup a few months back. 

Emily Fox made the penalty against the Canadian goalkeeper, and the next Canadian kicker’s shot was blocked by Alyssa (Secretary of Defense). Everyone looked in my direction as the ball was passed into my hands. If I make this shot, I win the shebelieves cup for the United States.

My hearts pounded like a drum in my cheat as I looked ahead at Kailen, my San Diego teammate and friend who plays for Canada. She knows how I kick, and I know how she blocks shots coming her way. 

I took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside of me. I had practiced penalty shots countless times throughout my time in soccer, but this was different. This was the final. This was for the win.

The referee blew the whistle, signaling it was time for me to shoot. My body stepped forward, and my mind was clear. As I closed in on the ball, I locked eyes with Kailen, who was poised and ready, her eyes fierce with determination.

My foot struck the ball cleanly, sending it soaring through the air. Time seemed to slow as the ball arced towards the goal, the world holding its breath. Kailen dove to her right, stretching out in a desperate bid to stop the shot.

But it was too late. The ball sailed past her outstretched fingers and hit the back of the net with a satisfying thud. The crowd erupted in a roar of triumph, the sound crashing over me like a wave. I scored the winning goal!

Before getting a chance to process what had happened, my teammates rushed towards me. All of their faces showed joy and relief. They enveloped me in a jubilant embrace, lifting me off her feet as we celebrated the victory together. I looked around, taking in the ecstatic faces of my friends, the adoring fans, and the sparkling lights of the stadium. I looked to my right and saw my sister’s bright smile looking towards me, this made my heart warm up a little bit. 

After everyone broke away from me, before the trophy celebration and the part where I’ll be rewarded as SheBelieves MVP, Alex approached me. Her expression was softer than the last time i’ve talked to her at her apartment. Her eyes reflected a mix of hope, sadness and understanding.

"Y/n, can we talk?"

I nodded, and we found a quiet spot away from the rest of the team on the pitch.

"I'm sorry," she began. "I was selfish. I was thinking about how much Charlie and I would miss you, not about what you need."

Her words broke the dam of emotions I'd been holding back. "I know. But Alex— I just want to be seen for who I am, Alex. Not just as your little sister."

She pulled me into a hug, and for the first time in weeks, I felt a sense of peace. "You will be, Y/n. You'll be amazing, and I am so proud of you and that gorgeous penalty kick." Alex squeezed me and I laughed at her gesture. 

“Thank you, Thank you! I have the best sister who showed me what good penalty kicks are.” I smile. 

As the middle of June approached, after the Korea friendlies, I prepared for my move to Germany with a mix of excitement and nerves. Alex and I grew closer again, our bond strengthened by the fact that this new routine will give us a chance to miss eachother. 

The day I boarded the plane to Munich, with three suitcases and one carry on bag with everything I need for my apartment I found while spending a week in Munich last month—  Alex was there, cheering me on. 

“I’ll miss you sweetheart.” Alex hugged me. I hugged her back before hugging my smaller niece who stood beside us. "I will miss you both the most." I respond.

Later as the plane took off, I looked out the window, my heart full of hope. This was my chance to prove myself to the world and to the fans that I am more than just my sister. 

-----

part two here

<3

[istandonsnowpiles]

3007

[simply-ivanka]

Why the GOP Is Winning Over Minorities

The Democrats have nothing to offer but grievance, victimhood and welfare.

Josh Williams -- Wall Street Journal

On Election Day, Donald Trump revealed the new coalition underpinning the modern Republican Party. As a proud black elected Republican, I believe today’s GOP represents people like me better than the Democrats ever have.

My early life could be considered an “authentic” experience as a black man in America. I was once a homeless high-school dropout. As a young adult, I endured a devastating workplace accident that left me disabled. At 30, I pulled myself up and enrolled in college, determined to rewrite my story. Within the next seven years I became a practicing attorney and, in 2022, the first black Republican elected to the Ohio House of Representatives in 50 years.

I understand the needs and concerns of my community, because for many years I lived them. All the Democratic Party ever offered me was grievance, victimhood and welfare. What any American—black or otherwise—wants is the opportunity to work hard and achieve his dreams. The Republican agenda champions economic prosperity, energy independence, border security and community safety. Opportunity lives within the modern GOP, and last Tuesday people of color agreed in record numbers.

To understand why the Democratic Party has failed, just look at how its agenda has affected my hometown of Toledo. Toledoans are very proud of our Jeep plant, the backbone of our local economy. Unfortunately, it has been crippled by big government. New regulations and mandates have led to assembly-line shutdowns and thousands of layoffs. Decades of unfair trade practices and an oppressive tax code leave Toledo and cities like it in decline.

For our gritty town, the Jeep plant has been a leg up for generations. This work has been passed down from fathers and mothers to sons and daughters for longer than I’ve been alive. Without it, many people who grew up like me are simply left with one less option to succeed.

When I walk into the barber shop, people are talking about Jeep jobs, inflation and crime, not identity politics. They ask questions about border security and the cost of living, not culture wars. The average American who looks like me simply isn’t concerned with the fake issues being peddled by the Democratic Party and the elites who set its agenda.

My message to Washington after the election is simple: Stop pandering to us. Treat us like adults. Treat us like Americans.

Whether you love Mr. Trump or loathe him, you can’t accuse him of inauthenticity. Minority communities not only can handle that approach—we appreciate it, and we will vote for it.

Mr. Trump’s Republican Party is where I belong. It’s where my friends, neighbors and pastors belong. The voters have spoken loud and clear that his GOP is the party of the people. All of us.

Mr. Williams represents the 44th Ohio House District, which includes much of the Toledo area.

[fiapartridge]

𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐓𝐓 𝐗 𝐇𝐀𝐙𝐄𝐋 ˙ ✩°˖🎀 ⋆｡˚꩜

beckett sennecke x bookstore!girl au!

meet hazel becker 💖💌🎧🌸🧚‍♀️

☆ age: 18

☆ nicknames: haze, zelly

☆ education/hobbies: hazel is currently a first year at cal state fullerton. she's majoring in creative writing. she aspires to be a young adult author in the future. she loves reading, writing, & baking.

☆ family: she has one younger sister (9) and one older sister (21). she's very close with both of them and calls them regularly. she's also super close to her parents and they're very supportive of her career path and everything she's working towards. she's originally from seattle, washington but is at csuf for school!

☆ hazel's quirks: she's a hopeless romantic! she believes in love at first sight and wants a fairytale, romcom, book-ish type of love. she's never been in a serious relationship before (if you don't count justin ramirez during freshman year of hs - it was a month long and never went past handholding and quick pecks). she would much rather be with the guys she dreams about in books and writes in her own than the guys she meets in real life. she's also a huge swiftie. she's in every single playlist that she has (she's currently trying to make beckett a fan). her favorite colors are pink and yellow, and her fashion staple are baby pink converse <3 she couldn't live without them!

☆ comparable characters: lara jean covey (to all the boys i've loved before), liz buxbaum (better than the movies)

☆ spirit animal: orange tabby cat

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

meet beckett sennecke 🏒⭐��🦆🧡✨

☆ age: 18

☆ nicknames: beck, becky, beckster

☆ education/hobbies: beckett is currently (in the au) playing hockey for the anaheim ducks.

☆ beckett's quirks: he's also never been in a relationship! not because he has some ideal girl in his head (i mean, yes, but that's not what's been stopping him) but because he's literally pathetic. he cannot talk to girls. he gets flustered soo easily. he's also a little spoon. he also loves the off campus series by elle kennedy. and he has a teddy bear named captain fuzzington.

☆ comparable characters: peter kavinsky (to all the boys i've loved before), troy bolton (high school musical)

☆ spirit animal: golden retriever

moodboard!

playlist!

fics ->

☆ captain fuzzington

☆ does he know?

☆ 4th of july!

☆ robbers

blurbs/thoughts ->

☆ how they met pt.1 - how they met pt. 2 - how they met pt. 3 - how they met pt. 4

☆ beckett reading the deal

☆ their second date

☆ his voice lmfao

☆ finding out he's a hockey player...

☆ beckett's explanation

☆ her touch calms him down

☆ first sleepover

☆ their first cuddle

☆ her major!

☆ their first kiss

☆ making it official

☆ so high school coded

☆ one monthiversary gifts

☆ beckett buys hazel expensive jewelry

☆ hazel's family!

☆ "love" and "baby"

☆ beckett calls her hazelnut

☆ beckett + hazel are 18 by one direction coded

☆ beckett + hazel do a tiktok trend!

☆ hazel comforts beckett at a press conference

insta edits ->

☆ hazel’s life update

[yuurivoice]

We've hit the stage of Echoes of Evalas' creation that I'm spending a lot of my quiet time with scenes and characters, including time that is usually occupied by...well, nothing creative. At least, it hasn't been creative time in a long while.

Some of the dearest and most important moments of my young creative daydreaming was before bed. If I might overshare, it was specifically as I lay in bed and tried to drown out unpleasantness I'd hear from other rooms of the house. I'll spare you the details.

I didn't even have music at the time, though in later years as I became a depressed teen, I'd throw some music on my computer to fantasize and fall asleep to.

Oftentimes, these stories and characters I'd contemplate were favorites from various things I enjoyed. In time they'd adapt and evolve into something of my own, in worlds and stories of my own making.

Sometimes it wasn't so grand. There were no sweeping narratives or adventures. Just some self insert character being comforted by a friend or a lover.

Recent nights, I've thrown on my EoE playlist and let my mind wander. I haven't really done that in a long time. Haven't had the need to these days. I'm not running from much. Life is quiet. But as I start to turn over more stones and find what's beneath some of the characters and themes I'm exploring, I've found myself here again.

I don't know if anyone will love what I am making, and I never have. Every person who has let my characters and stories into their hearts means a whole lot to me, though. I've not forgotten when all of this was nothing more than a comfort to myself to soothe away all my fear and loneliness.

As it all starts to come together I'm seeing a stark difference between where I am at as a writer and creative in general in comparison to BitterSweet Chapter 1, as I've revisited it recently.

The pieces were there but it's so clear to me that I didn't have the conviction that I do now. I didn't have the comfort or security of knowing that I can take chances and be bold. I thought I had to color within the lines, and lacked the confidence to really let it rip.

So as much as I've been looking forward, I've also looked back. Further back than I typically like to.

When Charlie said he never thought he'd be this old, that was real shit man. I was a morbid kid. I have a crystal clear memory of being on a school bus in Washington state. Blink 182 just dropped an album. I hate Blink 182, but I listened with a friend whose face I can barely remember. As the high schoolers got on the bus I remember thinking...damn, I'll never be that old.

Not sure what could possess a child to feel that way. Or how that feeling could linger for years. It took a long time to find enough faith in myself to live. Now that I've got it, I think I'm encouraged to give breath to those lost dreams and wandering fantasies. Echoes of Evalas is an exploration of that.

I can't even grasp what that really means yet.

Things like faith, anger, insecurity, and longing for change. I've rattled a lot of locked doors while digging up this story and putting it together.

I am uneasy. That's probably how I've ended up writing this essay in bed, and boy is it a rambling one.

There was a point somewhere. I am excited for what's to come, but uneasy. Not out of fear that anyone will like it or content brained thinking like that. More like...a reverence for this magical thing I've found. Storytelling is magical for me. And that's not me waxing poetic, I think there's something terrifying and beautiful about it. It is the thing I was made to do, and the actual experience of crafting a story like this isn't just fun. I'm removing chains from my soul.

If that ain't magic, I don't know what is.

Anywho, I need to sleep. If you read all that, thank you for putting up with my yapping. 💖