#Mike Maples
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إثرَ تَشيْطُن المنصّات صار الويب مجرد 5 مواقع ضخمة كلُّ واحد منها مليئ بلقطات شاشة من الأربعة الأخرى
ما هذه المجموعة من المختارات تسألني؟ إنّها عددٌ من أعداد نشرة “صيد الشابكة” اِعرف أكثر عن النشرة هنا: ما هي نشرة “صيد الشابكة” ما مصادرها، وما غرضها؛ وما معنى الشابكة أصلًا؟! 🎣🌐 🎣🌐 صيد الشابكة العدد #104 مرحبًا والسلام عليكم وجمعة مباركة*؛ بسم الله. *انطلقت بعون الله تعالى في العدد يوم الجمعة لذا إن نشرته في غيره فلا بأس: جمعة مباركة على أية حال. 🎣🌐 صيد الشابكة العدد #104🔄 دورة حياة المنصات:…
#104#Bob Hoffman#Chegg#Cory Doctorow#Daily Nugts#Enshittification#Evan Armstrong#Every Media#Faceless Accounts#Faceless Accounts on Instagram#Instagram#Jared Holst#Johann Hari#Lexi Merritt#Mike Maples#Pattern Breakers: Why Some Startups Change the Future#Peter Ziebelman#Pluralistic#Tahir#Tiktok&039;s enshittification#Tom Eastman#Trying In Public#مدونة هـــــــــــاء#نشرة Big Cash Money#نشرة Trying In Public#نشرة ما قلّ ودلّ#نشرة خياليون#نشرة زبدة#venture capital firm Floodgate#احمد فارس السعود
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Baseball runts
"Runt" is out. In its stead is "kid".
Given that the characters are designated as good and pure versus evil and cheating -- and good gawd, it's just a high school baseball game -- I don't really understand why bad behavior is shoved out of the bad sides' mouths and thoughts.
I always have a bit of a hiccup on terminology. "Little People" has come to be the acceptable terminology for what has come to be seen as pejorative term "midget". The Wikipedia page predictably page slides the controversy with someone of note saying the " just use 'midget'" versus the edicts of Hockey Canada (?) -- and I would think I would be with the midget / little person performer, but easy enough for me to say. "Little people" having an association in my.mind with, say Marie Antoinette jeering at the masses from her her balcony, and I can't imagine that is how I would want to be referred.
Reggie introduces "babies" into the equation. Makes sense that he is saying something pejorative and mean, but as that is the case -- why not stick with "runt"?
#Archie Comics#Archie Andrew#Coach Kleats#Mike Maples#Scooter Jackson#Evil Coach#Baseball#Bounty-gate#Runt#Little People#Northfield High School#Riverdale High School#Stan Goldberg#1977#Etymology
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the incident from naz
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#Forged In Excellence#MLP#MLP Pro Wrestling#MLP Forged In Excellence#Maple Leaf Pro Wrestling#konosuke takeshita#mike bailey
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"today in the warm light of the sunset i don't see it"
the core four + sleep patterns
#could a sane person make this???#found merchant ships and immediately went how can i make this about hockey??#+ saw that quote from yesterday about auston wanting to play with mitch and may have spiraled a tad#going through old footage is not for the faint of heart#also the way it was so hard to find old clips of auston and mitch from their rookie year......#mike babcock i hope you rot in hell <3#also rip to john but you weren't born and bred a leaf so#mitch marner#auston matthews#william nylander#morgan rielly#toronto maple leafs
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jfklsjklds who would replace auston as the alpha dog, i'm laughing.
#anyway mitch wins so true LKFJDSKL mike johnson thinks so too and i trust him MOST !#also. thought dreger was mitch marners mouthpiece damn what happened#toronto maple leafs#hockeyvid#2425#goofy ass question but ok#ppl think fans fuel that narrative like nah but there is a clear answejkrers#leafs lb#mitch marner#william nylander
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chapter two: the weirdo on maple street
an: chapter two!! i am flying with these first couple chapters just because i'm so excited about it. please please please do not expect this from future chapters, i am 100% bound to crash at some point. enjoy this chapter! it's pretty fun.
wc: 4.2k
general cws, not necessarily all in this chapter: drinking, alcoholism, drug abuse, smoking, cancer, hopper being kind of a deadbeat, usual canon violence.
masterlist (incl. series)
Your father didn’t get home until long after you had gone to bed, out with Will’s search party. You hadn’t bothered showing up at the meeting point. Hopper had said all he had to say back at the school, and you could see the argument that would ensue in front of half of Hawkins, so you drove home, building up an urge to do something and a nervous energy that nothing was quelling.
The door slammed behind you as you got in. You stormed through the kitchen and the junkyard you called a living room before chucking your backpack at the floor and collapsing on your bed. You stared at the ceiling for an eternal few seconds until your limbs were jumping and your entire body itched, and you jumped to your feet to pace around the room.
Slamming your way back through the house, you started pulling ingredients down from shelves with force that the box of sugar probably didn’t deserve. You think you blacked out for a few hours, because by the time your breathing was at a normal pace again, you’d baked six batches of muffins (a miraculous feat, considering the piece of shit kitchen you were working with),your calc homework for the next two weeks was done, and your bedroom looked like a tornado had run through it.
But staring at the trays of muffins, you still had to do something. So you cleaned the house. Your father arrived home to muffins covering the counters, the entire trailer spotless, and you, absolutely crashed out in your bed with wet hair, holding your sister’s old teddy bear. You’d never had a more productive afternoon in your life.
You wake up feeling like your stomach is eating itself alive, and you realize that the one thing you forgot to do last night was eat dinner. You can’t fathom the thought of getting up, so you lay still for a few more minutes. You love your room, with your quilted bed, rugs overlapping on the floor over hardwood that would give you splinters, your bulletin board with pictures of your mom and Sarah, and your Dad. A picture Carol took of you, Steve, and Tina. A photo of Carol and Tommy, and a photo of Dustin, Lucas, and Erica from the first day of school that their moms gave you. You hold Cara a little bit tighter.
You remember when the nurse gave her to your sister. You got one too, also named Cara. She handed them to you in your hospital beds, told you that she got them to remind you that they care-a-bout you. At four years old, you and Sarah thought it was the funniest thing in the world.
You close your eyes tight, then force them open. You pull the blanket back, like a robot, and roll yourself upright, pulling the curtains open. Your trailer is pretty far from the rest of the park, but you can see Eddie Munson coming back from taking out the trash, and Mrs. Kim realizing that the storm last night meant all her clothes were still soaking wet. Her son left for college last year, and you’re getting a little worried about her ability to live on her own.
You brush your teeth and tie your hair back before trudging your way out for breakfast, only to be met with the results of your frenzy from last night. The counter is still covered with muffins, minus the couple your Dad is actively chowing down on.
“These are great,” he says, mouth full of food, raising a muffin in your direction.
“Sale on pumpkins after Halloween,” you shrug. You pass him entering the kitchen, and pull out a container to start piling muffins into.
“Hey!” He barks, in his very Jim Hopper way. “Where are you taking them?”
“You do not need to eat six batches of muffins, Dad,” you say, continuing to box them up. He scoffs, offended. “I’m going to take some to school, and then to Steve’s tonight.” You really hope he just glosses over that last bit.
Unfortunately, you hear him try to speak up, but there’s too much pumpkin muffin in his mouth to be at all intelligible. He sounds alarmed. For fuck’s sake.
“Dad. I told you I had a thing tonight. I’m going, I’ve been planning on it for, like, a week.”
“Yeah, and I said you could go before a kid when missing, Y/N.” He’s raising his voice.
“I’m not stupid, Dad! I’m not going traipsing around town in the middle of the night! I’m going to Steve’s, for God’s sake.”
“And I already don’t like that idea,” he says gruffly.
“Dad, we’ve been friends since we were six, you need to get over this. He literally has a girlfriend, anyway.”
“And what about that Hagan kid?” he retorts. “I’ve had about six complaints about him in a month.”
“Also has a girlfriend. I’m driving Tina, Dad, I can’t just bail.”
“Well, she shouldn’t be going either!” he’s yelling. He’s always been this way with the idea that you might possibly, ever in your life, go on a date or hang out with boys. Naturally, you avoid this by never telling him, but he has got to get over this thing with Steve. It’s been nine years.
“For fuck’s sake,” you mutter. He ignores it.
“Yeah, you’ll be thanking me when you don’t end up dead in a ditch,” he says angrily, grabbing his hat and jacket and storming out the door.
“Well I guess we’ll never know, because I won’t have the opportunity!” you shout as it shuts behind him. Jesus Christ. You were really hoping you weren’t going to have to sneak out.
It takes almost forty five minutes for you to pick out your outfit for the day. Fall is always when your fashion is at its best, and it comes at the cost of sifting through a gigantic collection of second-hand sweaters your mom sent you from the city every morning. Finally, you clasp your earrings, grab your muffin containers, and head out the door, keys in your mouth and backpack on one shoulder. You sigh in relief as you drop them in the passenger seat, before swinging around to the other side and starting up your car, which always takes a few minutes.
You’re halfway to school when you have the idea to drop some at the Byers’ place. You certainly have enough. You pull a probably-illegal u-turn in the middle of the road, and head to the other side of town.
As you pull into their driveway, you nearly slam your head on the wheel as you see the chief’s car, i.e. your dad’s car, in front of the house. Whatever. You’re just going to have to suck it up, as little as you want to see him again this morning.
But as you walk up to the house, raised voices slow your approach.
“No, it was him, it was Will,” Joyce’s distressed voice says. “And he was scared. And then something—”
“It was probably just a prank call. It was somebody trying to scare you,” your father interrupts, and your eyes go wide as you listen, standing on the porch. Is he serious?
“Who would do that?” Jonathan asks. Has he met the people who live in this town?
“Well, this thing’s been on the TV.” Hopper says. It has? You must have missed it in your cleaning coma last night. “It brings out all the crazies, you know. False leads, prank calls, uh…”
“No, Hopper, it was not a prank. It was him,” Joyce says, with a mixture of desperation and determination to convince your father.
“Joyce.”
“Come on, how about a little trust here?” She shouts. “What, you think that I’m making this up?”
“I’m not saying that you’re making it up. All I’m saying is, it’s an emotional time for you.” He cannot be serious.
“And you think I don’t know my own son’s breathing? Wouldn’t you know your own daughter’s?” Oh.
Oh.
That hits you like a bat to the chest. Because, no, you don’t know that he would. And you don’t know if she even means you. You know she knows about Sarah, the whole of Hawkins does. You’re too used to people acting like Sarah was your parents’ only daughter, that she was all they had before she died, and it’s infuriating. She wasn’t their only daughter. She was your only sister.
The silence that follows is loud, and you decide you don’t want to hear any more. Knocking lightly, you push the door open and shuffle in. You don’t see your father around the corner, just Jonathan and Joyce standing together, Joyce with her face in her hands.
“Um… hey,” you say, your voice small. “I brought… I brought you guys some muffins. Figured you might not have eaten… or something. I’ll just… leave them here.”
You place them on the coffee table. Joyce is sniffling with her face covered, but Jonathan comes and meets you halfway.
“I can… I can grab those.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
“Uh… no, thank you.” He takes the container and nods awkwardly. “I’ll… um, wash this and give it to your dad… or something.”
“Yeah, no, take your time,” you don’t meet his eyes.
“I’m sure he would,” he whispers, so your parents don’t hear. You give him a confused look.
“Recognize… um…”
“Oh. Yeah. Thanks.” You’re desperate to get out of here. You give an awkward wave, and head back out the door, not addressing your father.
On the car ride to school, you can’t not think about Jonathan’s words. Why on earth would he say that? He doesn’t know you, or your Dad. You know he was trying to be nice, but what the hell does he know about Jim Hopper? It’s playing over and over through your head as you walk into school. Who the hell is Jonathan Byers?
But you’re reminded of your Dad’s fit this morning as you approach your friends.
“Ugh. Problem tonight,” you drag. “My Dad is freaking out, and I can’t drive over anymore. Unless he knocks himself out early, which I would love to count on, but can’t promise.”
Tommy dives into your muffins, making a gigantic mess that leaves you and Tina giving him a disgusted look.
“Oh, fuck,” Tina complains. I was so looking forward to it.”
“We can pick you up,” Tommy says, gesturing between himself and Carol, “but I can’t promise you’ll have a ride back.” He smirks disgustingly. Disgusting really is the best word to describe Tommy Hagan in most situations.
“Ugh. I’ll see if my sister can drive us,” Tina says as you share a worried look for yourselves. The last thing the both of you want is to be sitting downstairs while Tommy and Carol have sex for hours in Steve Harrington’s parents bed.
There’s a moment of silence, interspersed only with the loud chewing of Tommy on a muffin. “Oh my god,” you say. “Why didn’t I think of this already? I’ll just stay at your place, T. I’ll bring my car and we can go. I’ll tell my Dad we were working on a project super late, and I’m “scared to drive home”.”
“Oooooooooh,” Tommy and Carol wiggle their fingers.
“Thank god,” Steve interrupts them, shoving Tommy from the back of the head and turning to you and Tina. “I cannot do this with just them.”
“Scared, Stevie?” Tina teases him.
“Yeah, Harrington’s losing his virginity tonight,” Tommy chortles. You’re so glad he makes himself laugh, you think. He really needs someone to acknowledge the things he says.
“Oh, shut up,” Steve scowls. “Your mom knows that was a while ago.”
Wow, Tina gives you a look. Our friends are so witty.
“Speak of the devil,” Carol says as Nancy and Barb head down the hallway, flashcards in hand. Steve jumps up from his spot on the benches where you make yourselves at home (which is conveniently located under the trophy case, which his name is all over).
The rest of you follow him over, you and Tina giving each other looks as you go.
Steve snatches the flashcards out of Barb’s hands, and she trails off on her question about molecules. “Hey!”
“I don’t know, I think you’ve studied enough, Nance.”
“Steve—” she protests.
“I’m telling you, you know, you got this.” He ignores the annoyed look in her eyes. “Don’t worry. Now, on to more important matters.” He clasps the flashcards, drumming his fingers on them as he talks before pocketing them. “My dad has gone out of town for a conference, and my mom’s gone with him, ‘cause, you know, she doesn’t trust him.”
You laugh as Tommy says, “Good call.” Steve’s Dad is the biggest douchebag you’ve ever met, and considering Tommy, that’s really saying something. Credit where credit’s due, even if it is the bare minimum, he’s never cheated on Carol. Steve almost laughs too as he looks over at him.
“So, are you in?”
“In… for what?” Nancy looks genuinely lost. You would be too. Steve uses a lot of words to say very little.
“No parents? Big house?” Carol looks at her expectantly.
“A party?”
“Ding ding ding.” Tina hits her, and you hit Tommy as he laughs at Nancy.
“It’s… Tuesday.”
“It’s Tuesday,” Tommy mocks. “Oh my god,” he and Carol are both laughing.
“Dude,” you roll your eyes, making eye contact with Tina. Such a dick, you mouth.
“Come on,” Steve persists. “It’ll be low key, it’ll just be us. Are you in, or are you out?”
“Um…” Nancy’s thought is interrupted by Carol.
“Oh God. Look.” You turn your head to where she’s staring. Jonathan.
“Oh, God, that’s depressing.”
“Steve.” you glare at him. Cut it out.
“Should we say something?” Nancy asks. You feel bad for him, but you are one hundred percent out after the disaster that was this morning.
“I don’t think he speaks,” Carol smirks.
“How much you wanna bet he killed him?” Tommy snickers.
“Shut up,” Steve shoves his chest. Your eyes widen again, as if you cannot believe what you are hearing from him right now, but Tina’s laugh slips out, and you give her a pointed look. Obviously none of you are exactly great people, but you’ve never known your best friend to be cruel. Steve bites his lip as Nancy watches Jonathan, his eyes following her as she walks over to him.
You don’t hear their interaction, but if you had to guess, it seems about as awkward as yours. Tommy gives him a wave as he looks over at you.
The bell goes, and Nancy heads back over to you and your friends. Steve and Tina split for their art class, and you walk awkwardly beside Barb and Nancy as Tommy throws his arm over Carol’s shoulder.
“Attention, faculty and students,” your principal comes over the PA system. “At eight p.m. tonight, there will be an assembly on the football field in support of Will Byers and his family. All are encouraged to attend. Volunteer signups for search parties are available in the office.”
You hear the door slam behind you as Jonathan heads back outside the building.
“Where the hell are you, exactly?” Your dad is predictably furious when he answers the phone.
“Tina’s,” you reply, exasperated. “We went to the thing at school for Will, and now we’re studying for chem.”
“Didn’t you just have a test today?”
Fuck. How on earth does he manage to pay attention to the most inconvenient parts of your life? “Yeah, um. We’re working on a project. Doing some math homework too. I just… you know. Studying lumps it all together, didn’t think you wanted the details.”
You mime yourself losing your mind at Tina across her bedroom, who’s trying to hold her laughter in. Since kindergarten, she has found lying to Jim Hopper to be the funniest thing imaginable. For this reason, you’ve banished her to the opposite corner of the room until you hang up. You hope he can’t hear the wide smile in your voice.
“Dad. Please, please chill. I’m just going to stay over here tonight, I don’t want to drive in the dark.”
He looks across the trailer at the random woman that came home from the search with him, and decides that maybe it’s for the best that you aren’t here. “Fine. But you’re home by seven tomorrow night, no later.”
“Sounds great. Love you.”
“Love you too. Bye, kid.”
“Bye.” You drop the phone on the stand in relief.
“Yes!” Tina shouts.
“Tina!” you shout back, laughing and dropping your voice to a whisper. “Your parents.”
“You know they don’t care,” she grins.
“Ok, well, help me decide what to wear.” You pull out your two bikinis, although you know you want to wear the red one.
“Oh, come on,” Tina laughs at you. “First of all, it’s November—”
“His pool is heated.”
“Oh, you’re so right.” She turns and starts digging through her closet. “Second of all,” she adds, her head deep in the monster of fabric that is her wardrobe, “don’t act like I don’t know exactly why you brought that one.”
“Which one?” you ask, feigning innocence and not meeting her eyes.
“The Phoebe Cates one?”
“Shut up.”
“Ha! I knew it.”
“Come on, just because there are no hot single guys there doesn’t mean I don’t need male validation,” you smile at her.
“You’re a terrible person,” she laughs at you.
“I know.”
She pauses. “I’m totally bringing mine, too.”
The drive over is full of trying to predict exactly how this night is going to go.
“Okay. One hundred percent Tommy pushes Carol in the pool,” Tina says, doing mascara in the passenger seat. “Hey! Easy on the road, I’m doing eye makeup over here.”
“Take it up with the mayor, or something. Fucking potholes everywhere. But, yes obviously happening. We should get in ourselves before they get the chance. This sweater cannot get wet.” You’re wearing your orange striped zippered sweater under the massive Hawkins Police jacket you stole from your father.
“You and your fucking sweaters,” Tina snorts.
You pull in in front of Steve Harrington’s massive house, definitely not running over the grass.
As you get out of the car, a shout comes from behind you. “When are you going to learn how to park?” Steve calls from his front door. You look back at your car, which is sitting diagonally half on his lawn and half on the gravel driveway.
“Oh, shut up,” you narrow your eyes at him as you push past into the house. “Raise a Little Hell” by Trooper is playing on his fancy speakers. “Have you been standing here this entire time?”
“No.”
“Yes!” Tommy calls from the back porch. “He has, it's completely and utterly lame.”
“Wow! Big word there, Tommy!”
“Yeah, your mom taught it to me.”
The doorbell rings, echoing through the house, and the speed at which Steve jumps up and runs to the front door has the four of you in the kitchen all snickering.
“Hello, ladies,” you hear, and you turn your head to see him leaning on the door. You really have to try not to laugh at him.
The scream actually hurts your ears. You and Tina are standing in the pool near the edge, gossiping and observing your friends until Tommy picks his girlfriend up and swings her over your heads.
“Tommy!” you both shriek as Carol screams.
“One!” He shouts, “Two! Three!”
“Stop it Tommy! No! Don’t!”
“You’re going to kill somebody!” You hit his ankles, and he finally puts her down as Steve comes back out from the house with his pocket knife.
You watch as he shotguns it. That sweater really suits him.
“Is that supposed to impress me?” Nancy smiles at him.
“Yes,” Tina laughs.
“Definitely.”
Steve puts his cigarette back between his lips. “You’re not?”
“You are a cliché, you do realize that.”
“You are a cliché,” he lights the cig. “What with your grades, and your band practice—”
“I’m so not in band!” Nancy shakes her head.
“Okay, party girl. Why don’t you just, uh, show us how it’s done, then?” He tosses you and Tina drinks as well, and you grab your keys from the side of the pool, putting out your cig beside them. You see Barb roll her eyes, and Tina nudges you, smirking.
“Don’t be so mean,” you whisper at her.
“What? I don’t even get why she’s here.” Carol gives the two of you a look, like right?
“You gotta make a little hole right in—”
“I got it,” Nancy brushes him off, and he raises his hands in surrender.
“Yeah, she’s smart, you douche,” Tommy chortles. He crushes his empty can against his head before tossing it at the ground.
You push yourself up out of the pool to sit on the edge. Holy shit, it’s freezing. “Here, Nance, let’s do it together,” your teeth chatter. “Like right now, too, so I can get back in.”
You cut the sides of your cans together and raise them to your lips.
“Chug. Chug, chug,” Steve starts, and the others join. “Chug, chug, chug, chug, chug, chug, chug, chug—”
You drown them out as you finish your can before tossing it to the deck. Nancy’s done right after you, and she takes a bow. You laugh, meeting her eyes. You suddenly really hope that you can be really good friends with her.
“Barb, you wanna try?”
The rest of you look about as surprised as Barb herself. “What? No. No, I don’t want to, thanks.”
“Come on,” Nancy pushes her.
“Yeah, come on, yeah!”
“Nance, I don’t want too—”
“It’s fun! Just give it a—”
“Nance…”
“Just…” she softens her voice. “Just give it a shot.”
Barb takes the can and the knife from her, hesitantly standing up. She has an audience; Tommy and Carol look on, interested, and Nancy looks back at Steve to an apprehensive look as he raises his cig to his mouth. She struggles with the can for a second before it slips, and she cuts her hand.
She gasps. “Gnarly,” Tommy laughs, and you hit his leg again.
“Are you okay?” Nancy worries.
“Yeah,” Barb shoots back, obviously annoyed.
“Barb, you’re bleeding,” Nancy looks at her. Drops of blood hit the pool deck.
“I’m fine,” she insists. “Where’s your bathroom?” She turns to Steve.
“Oh! It’s… It’s uh, down past the kitchen, to the left.”
“Okay, thanks.”
“Do you want me to go with you?” You ask her, and she shakes her head without looking at you, walking back in the direction of the sliding glass doors. Nancy looks on, worried, as her best friend walks away and Steve points out the bathroom. Carol and Tommy are still laughing under their breath.
Carol looks up at the sky, shaking her head and enjoying the moment as Barb goes inside.
You see Tommy look her up and down, and before you have a chance to warn her he shoves her into the pool. She and Tina shriek as Tina ducks and Carol flies over her head. “Oh my god, what the hell, Tommy?” He drops his cig, grinning, and dives in after her. You jump back in with Tina, and begin to lose yourself in the splashing and screaming. Nancy laughs from the edge until Steve sneaks up behind her and pushes her in behind them, giving the most over the top jump in after her. Tommy and Carol kiss, you jump on Tina’s shoulders, and Steve grabs Nancy’s shoe and holds it away, teasing her.
You’re so unbelievably happy, here with your friends. For the next hour, all your thoughts about Will and your father are totally out the window.
“I’m freezing,” Carol shivers, wrapping herself in a towel in Steve’s living room.
“Me too, holy shit,” you laugh and dry your hair. You and Tina are the only ones in swimsuits, and you’re looking at each other like thank god you brought them. The idea of trying to peel off soaking wet, cold clothes right now makes you shudder.
“Hmm… well, I hear his mom’s room has a fireplace,” Tommy smirks.
“Are you kidding?” Steve throws his hands up and you and Tina laugh.
“Oh yeah?” Carol says, following him up the stairs.
“Okay, well, you know, you are cleaning the sheets,” Steve calls after his friend and runs a hand through his hair. “You alright?” he turns to Nancy.
“Yeah,” she smiles.
“Yeah? Come on, let’s get you some dry clothes,” he leads her through the house. You and Tina pull on your clothes, finally something resembling not freezing, and grab your bags.
You follow Nancy out to the front of the house, where she’s talking to Barb.
“Nance!” her friend calls as she starts to head up the stairs. “Nancy. Where are you going?”
“Nowhere! Just… upstairs.” Steve moves around her, back down to you and Tina.
“Here, let me grab those for you.” He takes both of you out to your car while Nancy and Barb talk. You step outside, and you’re glad that for a second it’s just the three of you. You’re trying really, really hard to sort of back away from Steve, not do any of the things you’ve always done with him that might make her uncomfortable. But you think that a little bit, you might really miss him.
As you fall asleep that night, next to Tina, you can’t keep him and that damn cigarette out of your head.
an: yay!!! chapter two!! i hope you enjoyed it. as always, any reblogs and other interactions are so highly appreciated, i love hearing what you think so so much whether in these comments or in my inbox! let me know if you would like to be added to this taglist <3
xoxo, thaliagracesgf
tags: @thisisourlovestory, @ladygrey03
#thaliagracesgf#steve harrington x reader#stranger things#steve harrington#steve harrington x hopper!reader#nancy wheeler#jonathan byers#jim hopper#stranger things fanfic#the weirdo on maple street#steve harrington slow burn#sexy to someone by thaliagracesgf#steve harrington x you#mike wheeler#dustin henderson#lucas sinclair#eleven stranger things#will byers
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Aww speedball mike bailey just said takeshita is the best wrestler in the world (they're right)
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Will Arnett and Steve Higgins and Mike Myers at the hockey game
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what a joyless notif
hey johnny whats it like to live with no dreams
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Mike Babcock has not coached a game in the National Hockey League since November 19, 2019. So why do we never stop hearing about him?
Read our Op-Ed on Mike Babcock's history of abusive behaviour, what it means to hockey, and where Mitch Marner's story fits into it.
Full story here.
#nhl#nhl news#op ed#toronto maple leafs#detroit red wings#anaheim ducks#mike babcock#cw emotional abuse#mitch marner
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some of my decorated hockey cards ^u^
#toploader#toploader deco#hockey cards#hockey#nhl#dont mind my dirty windowsill#the last one has a keyring on it cus i put it on my backpack LMAO#jaromir jagr#claude giroux#mike richter#mitch marner#pittsburgh penguins#philadelphia flyers#toronto maple leafs#90s hockey
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#Forged In Excellence#MLP#MLP Pro Wrestling#MLP Forged In Excellence#Maple Leaf Pro Wrestling#mike bailey#el phantasmo
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“For Marner and Matthews, and especially Matthews, he doesn’t have that yet. And so, I agree. And I think these guys will wear the scar tissue of playoff failures past, for sure, but they’re also kind of strong enough to focus on the present. But I would imagine that they can appreciate… They like playing here, they like playing with each other, they care about each other, they want to have sex– success together. Like, they know what’s at stake. For themselves personally, for their legacy, for their GM, for their coach, for their next contract. There’s a lot at stake for Toronto to make sure that they get through at least one round.”
#toronto maple leafs#auston matthews#mitch marner#1634#hockeymedia#ANYWAY.. lkfjksldjfklsdjfklsdfjhsdklfksdlfsdlkf scream. need to die#thank u mike johnson for the good eats on this fateful anxiety inducing day
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i enjoy that mike stephens has gotten to the point in his delusion where he thinks that talking about comments from mitch’s security is a reason mitch marner should be off the team
#percy.txt#toronto maple leafs#mitch marner#like. get real.#they’re not even bad they’re just defending mitch too#he has the security. to keep freaks like mike stephens far away
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mitch marner after mike babcock’s resignation for once again proving himself to be an abusive and shady piece of shit:
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