#Kevin Mueller

[aestum]

(by Kevin Mueller)

[thomasmuellerfcbayern]

[leonsliga]

Seat buddies 🤗

[vintagewarhol]

[allthingseurope]

Bruges, Belgium (by Kevin Mueller)

[requiem-on-water]

by Kevin Mueller

[trickricksblog08]

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗚𝗶𝘁𝗺𝗼 𝗟𝗶𝘀𝘁: 𝗧𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝗪𝗵𝗼 𝗕𝗲𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘆𝗲𝗱 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗨𝗻𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗦𝘁𝗮𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗔𝗺𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗮

Where They Go One They Go All

1. Hillary Clinton

2. Bill Clinton

3. Nancy Pelosi

4. John Podesta

5. John Brennan

6. James Comey

7. Maxine Waters

8. Adam Schiff

9. Hunter Biden

10. George W. Bush

11. Dr. Anthony Fauci

12. Huma Abedin

13. Bill Gates

14. Anthony Wiener

15. George Soros

16. Lindsey Graham

17. Mitch McConnell

18. Kevin McCarthy

19. Chuck Schumer

20. Kamala Harris

21. Robert Mueller

22. Mike Pence

23. Joe Biden

24. James Clapper

24. Lloyd Austin

25. Dick Cheney

26. John Kerry

27. Alexander Soros

28. Loretta Lynch

29. Andrew McCabe

30. Peter Strzok

31. Lisa Page

32. James Baker

33. Eric Holder

34. Tony Podesta

35. Susan Rice

36. Harry Reid

37. Paul Ryan

38. Debbie Wasserman Schultz

39. Sally Yates

40. Mitt Romney

41. Jerry Nadler

42. Klaus Schwab

43. Michelle Obama

44. Sally Yates

45. Andrew Cuomo

46. Herbert Raymond McMaster

47. Deborah Birx

48. Mark Zuckerberg

49. Nikki Haley

The17Letter

[regicidal-optimism]

a home, or a bread broken - a fic by @rebelpeas for @mcytblraufest

bora in her kitchen - vincent giarrano / love like salt - lisel mueller / asoftersea / homes - kevin lucbert / ominous reassurances frog - sarah gordon / purple kisses - scott fraser / morning after ii - alyssa monks / jack white, birmingham, england - ken taylor / proletariatitty / infinite exchange - geoff manaugh

[life-spire]

Scotland (by Kevin Mueller)

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[fallauween]

Photo by Kevin Mueller on Unsplash

[aestum]

(by Kevin Mueller)

[thomasmuellerfcbayern]

[leonsliga]

En route to the USA 🇺🇸

[flowercrowngods]

more sappy soft men (clarkson) because i say so

🤍 also on ao3

Scott breathes for what feels like the first time today the very second he steps outside of the school building, fresh air surrounding him in a cold but welcome embrace.

He loves his job, he really does, but parent-teacher nights are always the longest days and the longest nights of the year. Screw solstice; no one has lived through the longest day until they’ve had to explain to Mrs Mueller why her child should not stay in the science rooms unsupervised, and no, they cannot get an exception, and no, Kevin is not secretly a genius child that will become the next Einstein if only they can be allowed in the science rooms without a teacher. Three times, he’s had to explain, and only when another dad told her off did the woman finally relent.

The joys of being a teacher do not lie in the parent-teacher nights. He’s exhausted, he’s tired, his ears are ringing, his shoulders aching from being so tense, and all he wants is to build a Heisenberg compensator and teleport himself right into his bed.

The parking lot is almost empty, illuminated scarcely with the yellow light of street lamps, and it takes Scott a moment before he sees the familiar truck that never really fails to make him smile. He feels a brief pang of guilt when he realises that he doesn’t want to talk, doesn’t really feel like he can anymore, not until his ears stop ringing and his shoulders lose their tension. But then he remembers the incredible, patient, one-of-a-kind man behind the wheel.

Wayne Munson enjoys his silence. He’s incredibly good at them in a way that’s like balm to Scott’s brain, a way that makes him feel so calm even when his insides are all fluttery in Wayne’s company.

Slowly, he crosses the parking lot, walking towards the familiar car. There’s a smile on his face that’s not plastered on but rather involuntary. He can’t help it. Wayne is here to pick him up after a long, dreadful day, just to spend some time together. A few minute’s drive from here to Scott’s house, neither of them in the mood for talking after a long day. But it’s wonderful. It’s enough. It’s everything.

Heart in his throat, Scott opens the door and climbs into the car, instantly welcomed with warmth and the sound of quiet music. Not too loud to further fray his nerves, not too quiet to recognise the song and lyrics. Just perfect for background noise. Just perfect.

Wayne turns slightly in his seat and looks over, his eyes roaming over Scott’s face, his clothes, his posture, clinging to his smile and his hands for a second longer than the rest. They’re just sitting there, smiling at each other while Scott soaks up the warmth — of the car and of Wayne’s entire self. The tension slowly leaves his shoulders and he realises how tired he really is, as though a flip has been switched.

“Want me to take the long way home?”

Scott nods, fighting to keep his eyes open, comfortable and warm as he is.

“I’ve gotcha,” Wayne says then, and it’s a promise sewed with a smile and a warm hand reaching out to squeeze his hand as he starts the engine.

The vibrations are gentle and familiar, and soon Scott loses the fight against his heavy eyelids. He tries to track the comings and goings of the street lights but he gives up quickly, because Space Age Love Song is on and all he sees anymore are the visions of all the times Wayne has been waiting for him in the parking lot just to drive him home.

And though it took a while

I was falling in love

For a little while each time in the front seat of Wayne’s truck, Scott is falling in love. Wayne is worried sometimes about being gruff and not talking so much, about the words he says when he does talk. But Scott has never been someone who fell in love with words. Love, to him, is all about the silences and what fills them, the company they’re spent in.

Wayne does take the long way home, which usually translates to driving around Hawkins in the soft glow of the street lights until all tension has left Scott’s shoulders and his head lands against the cool window. And even once Scott is asleep, the king day catching up to him, he keeps driving, music making for great silent conversation.

Wayne has made them a mixtape, too, with the help of Steve and Eddie. Everything about these drives makes Scott feel emotions he logically knew existed, but has never had the privilege to feel. Not until Wayne. Not until Space Age Love Song in the school parking lot in early February. Not until Tougher Than The Rest as they pass his house for the fifth time without any indications of slowing.

Not until the sudden absence of the engine’s vibrations and a gentle hand in his hair wake him.

“You’re home,” Wayne says quietly, no hints of regret in his voice, only the secret adoration that’s taken Scott a few weeks to discover.

“Yeah,” he breathes, leaning into the touch, barely awake yet and happy to just stay here for the rest of his life. “I am.”

[requiem-on-water]

by Kevin Mueller

[virtuallyinsane]

Photo by Kevin Mueller on Unsplash