#I just beat Seasons as a linked game

[peachssodapop]

Want Oracle games remakes so bad just because I need these soundtracks done orchestrally

#I just beat Seasons as a linked game #and god the song that plays after you save Zelda so fucking good #also Tarm ruins so good #+ others

[inknopewetrust]

oh, baby.

Summary: You and Eddie raise a baby… however, you’re not a couple and the baby isn’t real. Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader [WC: 7k ] Warnings: takes place at the beginning of season 2, language. Quick Links: Masterlist

"And this," Mr. Allen walked up and down each row with the most serious face. Everyone else, all the students, were plagued with potential trauma at the preface of the assignment; "this is your only priority for the next week—including this weekend and the next."

You felt a cool breeze waft as he walked past your desk, continuing on forward as Steve Harrington audibly protested his instruction. The supposed "King of Hawkins High" wasn't impressed with having to take care of a child… well, a plastic one at that.

"Mr. Allen," he began from his spot in the second row from the door. All you could see was the brown poof of hair that he had become notable for. "I don't see why we can't just start this on Monday. We've got plans… there's a football game tonight!"

There were a few agreeing hums, mostly from the said football players in the room, but it wasn't as though they would be taking part in the assignment when they were on the field. Their partners would be left alone to deal with an unpredictable toy while they tossed pigskin for three hours for fun.

"And besides," Steve continued as Mr. Allen walked back to the front of the room, setting the baby down on his desk and grabbing two plastic bowls he had scavenged from home, "Halloween is next weekend! I bet we all already have plans…"

Steve turned around in his seat and looked around the room. He saw his peers watching him carefully, some in support and others in vague concern that he would get them in further conflict by having the task take up the whole month instead of a week and a half. He glanced over you hoping that being Nancy's childhood friend would spur a call within you to support him but alas, you would not give him the satisfaction.

In the back of the room, Steve's eyes landed squarely on one sole person. He chewed on his lip before turning around.

"Hell, I bet even Munson's got plans. You know we're all busy when he's actually doing something."

At that same moment, Eddie Munson had been sitting with his legs extended through the empty chair in front of him and his arms crossed against his chest. Even if he didn't want to be there in the slightest, Steve Harrington going on a tangent in the middle of senior health class intrigued him. And when his name slipped past the hair's lips, Eddie's face contorted. Eyes narrow and slightly offended. The new kid, Billy Hargrove, laughed as he twirled his pencil. He had been there for two weeks and had swept Eddie’s weed supply clean in a matter of days.

Eddie actually didn't have plans other than Hellfire on Friday, but he couldn't say that out loud. In fact, he didn't say anything. He had an inkling someone would call him to deal at whatever party everyone was going to, but unless it happened, he was staying in and getting stoned himself.

Everyone's head turned toward him and he forgot the real reason he didn't skip that hour. They were all judgemental. He was an oddity to them. You even glanced over your own, three rows in front of him and to the right.

When he caught your gaze, you were the only one to look at him like a real human being, a person, not a freak. Just simple curiosity because everyone else had. You gave him a tiny, empathetic smile before turning back around and he found himself staring at the back of your head after it happened. It made his heart skip a beat.

"Mr. Harrington," Mr. Allen placed one of the bowls he was holding onto Steve's desk, "Nothing's changing. I've conducted this role-play for ten years and it is not changing because you, or anyone else in this class, has plans that don't fit the lifestyle of what it means to be a parent."

He pointed to the bowl before placing the other on a girl named Lisa's desk, "Steve, you pick the boys and Lisa here will pick the girls," he turned his attention back to the room as Steve ran a frustrated hand through his hair. A couple of the girls around you groaned, whispering to one another that the system was rigged because they knew they could no longer pick their partners.

"No picking partners. I'm letting the magic bowls choose them for me. No debating, no arguing. I don't care if you think your partner is bad or not, you will complete this task together. Who knows," he laughed at the looks of the students, "maybe you'll find a new friend through all of this."

“Go ahead, Steve,” he ordered, leaning against his desk with ankles crossed and an amused smile playing at his elderly lips. Glasses perched near the end of his nose, Steve huffed at him and tucked his hand away into the bowl and ruffled the slips of paper.

And like luck, Steve Harrington pulled his own name first. Eddie smiled in satisfaction at that–knowing that there was a chance Steve would most certainly be paired with someone he didn't want after he called him out in class. He hoped Billy would have the same fate too. Hell, everyone who looked at him like he was a fucking Martian from planet Mars.

The irony that Hargrove listened to the same music, smoked the same dope, and drove his car just as recklessly but remained at the top of the food chain at Hawkins High hadn’t escaped Eddie. Girls liked Billy; he played basketball, gave them cheeky smiles, and certainly did not play a fantasy game for fun. He was the antithesis of Eddie’s existence–but a bully and raging asshole too. Billy Hargrove was a piece of shit and it had taken Eddie two days in class to figure that out.

“And Steve will be paired with…” Mr. Allen waited for Lisa to mimic Steve’s draw and she unfolded the paper.

Lisa drew Tammy Thompson's name which could have been worse for Steve. It took 3 minutes for Steve to pull Billy Hargrove's name who was then paired with Kennedy Walker, the school's future valedictorian. The look on the poor girl’s face was sadly hilarious. Hargrove winked at her and she turned such a shade of red that she looked like a balloon. But before Eddie could ponder what an interesting pair that made, Steve sighed and pulled another name from the bowl.

Steve crinckled the thin strip of paper in his hand before tossing it onto his desk, "Munson," he looked at Mr. Allen who nodded as he did with each name.

"And the lucky partner?" Mr. Allen had to have been joking except there wasn't an ounce of teasing in his words. Lisa picked the name out of the bucket and unfolded it with her candy red nails. Then, she laughed. Her eyes crinkled at the side from what you could see as she sat in the first seat beside the door. She looked over her shoulder, directly at you in her line of sight and smiled like a wicked wench.

"Y/n L/n." Shit.

A few of the girls giggled, a couple of the guys whistled which had bristled the compass within you south. You didn't care that you had been paired with Eddie because of what people thought of him–the primary reason they were all bemused with the pairing–but rather at the possibility that he couldn't give two-shits about the assignment. It may have only been October but you had already caught him before two different classes being chastised by teachers for not doing his work. If he kept it up, they said, he wouldn’t graduate with his class.

"Off the hook, ladies," one of the girls on the cheer squad laughed, "Y/n's got him."

Lunch could not have arrived fast enough.

You rushed to the front of the line, grabbed your tray, and made a straight shot for the table you had taken an unassigned assigned seat at. Nancy wasn't there when you arrived so you just picked at your food, rolling the grapes in the small section they had been dumped into and watched the entrance like a hawk. Your leg bounced under the table with a tinge of nervousness, but the aggravation of failure was starting to eat you alive and it had only been an hour since Mr. Allen screwed over your grade. Slowly, the lunch room came to life and Nancy held her calculus book in one hand and purple lunch bag in the other.

Even she had a sour look on her face. Lips pursed and brow furrowed, her hand tightly clenched around the bag as the small gold promise ring from Steve shined in the harsh lighting of the room.

"You'll never believe who Mike gave my number to," Nancy huffed as she sat down; her lunch bag filled scarcely with a peanut butter and jelly and a bag of Cheetos. She had four sticks of cut up celery that you gagged at, not understanding how she could enjoy the stringy vegetable for fun.

"You'll never believe who I was partnered with for Allen's baby project," You stopped pushing around your food and she looked at you with heeded interest, her eyebrows drawn together and her wide eyes concerned.

"You first," you pointed a finger at her as she shifted in her seat. The others at the table started to sit down and engage in their own conversations–you had totally forgotten about watching the doorway to the lunchroom. "Keith?"

"From the arcade! The one who always," she scrambled her hands in front of her in frustration before letting out a groan, "he's always got his dirty fingers on the buttons and offers the kids soda way past a normal time."

There was not a day that went by where you did not think that Nancy Wheeler lived with the silver spoon, nay, stick, up her ass.

"All because of someone who broke Dustin's record of Dig Dug. Who does that!?" Nancy unzipped her bag and sure enough, a PB and J with a bag of Cheetos as a side with sticks of celery tucked in a plastic baggie.

"Maybe he's just playing matchmaker…" You stabbed a grape and popped into your mouth with a smile. "Steve was being an annoying shit in class today, so maybe, just maybe, you should be searching for someone else."

"When isn't he like that?" She laughed, "He's Steve Harrington for God's sake."

"Well, I think he's to blame for the luck I had in class today."

"Luck? You were just on the verge of complaining," she glanced quizzically at you, looking over your shoulder when a paper ball went flying in the direction of the table. "left," she said and you tilted to the left as the wad went flying past both your heads and ended up by the science club's table. It was a daily occurrence. "So, who's your partner?"

"Eddie Munson."

Nancy stopped trying to open the bag of Cheetos. "What?"

"Be glad you're not a senior yet, Nance… this project is going to be the death of me, I swear," your head found a home in your hands as you pushed the tray away from you.

"I'm going to fail it! There is no way I can get an A without a capable partner and then what? Will I have to repeat senior year because I failed health? HEALTH?" You exclaimed.

"You won't fail," she conceded. Placing the snack onto the table, she reached out and patted the side of your arm. "If it really gets bad you can always ask Steve."

"He's partnered with Tammy Thompson. There is no way he'd help me with what Allen said about these babies."

"What did he say? Where is the doll anyway?"

"Eddie's got it. Maybe I'll never see it again if I'm lucky," you removed your hands from the table and folded them in your lap as you told her the assignment requirements and what Mr. Allen had said to expect about the baby. As you talked, she picked at her food and the fruit off your tray as some of the girls from newspaper filled the seats around you.

"At least it doesn't actually, you know, pee or anything."

"But the sensor doesn't know that it isn't real. I don't even know how he got dolls so advanced… I had a flour baby when I was a kid and this is as close to a real baby as possible except it doesn't blink."

"Creepy," she mumbled before picking the bag back up.

"Very," you agreed and took a second to glance around the room. Some of the partners were already facing their first challenges. A few were trying to quell the crying, a couple sat together planning their week out so they could work together and have equal time, but when you looked at the table that normally held Hellfire, Eddie wasn't there.

"They all laughed when my name was called," Nancy's head quirked back up at you, "I don't care that he's my partner; that's not why I'm complaining, but this isn't going to be an easy week."

That was the truth—you didn’t care that Eddie was your partner because as a person, Eddie was not as bad as everyone labeled him to be. He was actually, in an admission that you’d take to your grave instead of tell Nancy, fairly handsome and interested the hell out of you. It was the work ethic and motivation that concerned you.

"People are just mean, Y/n," you nodded in agreement, "you just need to focus on the assignment and if you're lucky, like you always are," she peered into your soul with that jealousy, "everything will go swimmingly."

Nancy Wheeler knew she spoke too soon when the doors to the lunchroom flung open with flair. She jumped and turned around in her seat when she saw your soul escape from your eyes.

"Hey! Mama!"

Jesus Fucking Christ.

He was holding the doll by its back leg, letting it dangle from his hand as if it were that black, metal lunchbox you convinced yourself had drugs tucked away in it. Eddie was looking directly at your table as though he had been searching for you for hours.

“Did he just—“ Nancy cut herself off as she watched him make his way toward the table. A group of preps flipped him off on the way and he gladly returned the bird with glee.

“He just called me ‘mama.’”

You put an arm defensively covering your face, shielding your eyes away from him as the Hellfire table furthered his amusement by cackling at him. Nancy whipped her head back around to you and felt the embarrassment roll off.

“It’s only a week,” she reminded you, “only about a week.”

Eddie’s feet landed at the end of the table and the girls at the end went silent. He was standing there, holding the doll by its hind leg, and quirked his head to the side. His eyes were entertained at the way you had blocked yourself away from him. The call of ‘mama’ making your skin crawl and elating him from far away. He could push a few buttons without feeling bad about it.

“You embarrassed of me, L/n?” He feigned hurt, “what’s our kid gonna think when he learns his parents don’t get along?”

“It’s a doll, Munson,” your hand that had been blocking your face hit the table hard. “It has no memories and will certainly, never, ever, grow up.”

“If Allen heard you say that he’d give us an F,” he walked around the table and took a seat beside you, legs spread as they caged you in from the side and he plopped the baby on the table with a thud. Its head face down on the table as its poorly drawn on strands of hair faced the ceiling. He was wearing double denim. A jacket filled with pins and patches, a chain hung from one loop of his pants to another and the red flannel he wore underneath it was left open to reveal a t-shirt for a band you had never heard of—holes littered the neckline that sat beneath a silver chain.

Across from you, Nancy sat rigid as she watched the way Eddie’s eyes watched you. A small smile playing on his face as one of his hands found themselves in his lap and the other elbow perched on the table beside the doll.

“We should probably talk about this, huh?” He asked, surprising you by actually wanting to talk about the assignment. You turned your head and looked at him, eyes bemused by his willingness to do so. Eddie recognized that, scoffing and reaching inside of his jean jacket to grab a pack of cigarettes before tapping one out. He slipped them back in and stuck the one he plucked from the pack between his lips.

“You know,” he glanced at you, then Nancy, then back at you, “when a teacher tells us we have to work together, I don’t expect to do all the talking.” He lit the cigarette with a puff and the girls at the end of the table began to complain. No one was allowed to smoke in the cafeteria—only the teacher's lounge and well, that was reserved for teachers.

“How do I know you actually want to talk about this?” You countered. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you turn in an assignment before.”

“You been takin’ notice of me, L/n?” He smiled wide, grabbing the cig with two fingers and tapping it onto the floor. “If you wanted to talk to me you could just do it, ya know? Don’t need to stare at me.”

“Wheeler,” he looked at Nancy who drew her brows together, the tight contortion of her face judging him without words. “You know your friend has been watching me? Should I put an ad in the paper for a bodyguard to protect me from my stalker?” Nancy didn’t reply because she had never held a conversation with Eddie before. She didn’t understand his humor, let alone the levity of his words as he blew smoke in her face and sat next to her best friend like a suave Casanova.

“Eddie,” you sighed, letting your gaze drift around the cafeteria and caught a few interested stares along with way. One teacher, Ms. Kirch–the freshman biology teacher with a hard-on for students willing to press her buttons—was walking around the perimeter on the other side. If she saw Eddie smoking, they’d both make a scene.

“I know you think school’s a joke but I’m not failing this just because you don’t want to do it.”

“Who said I don’t want to do this?” He furrowed his brows, shaking his head at you as he put the cigarette back to his lips. The red burning as he breathed in.

“Oh I don’t know… your attendance record, report cards, all previous group projects that I’ve never seen you show up for.”

“Those are all Ms. O’Donnell’s,” he defended, pointing a finger at you, “She’s a bitch and has it out for me.”

“I just want to know for sure that if we do this together, I won’t be left to do all the work at the end.”

Eddie saw the honesty in your eyes as you admitted it. He never truly understood what it meant to be an academic because it felt superficial. The attachment to good grades and praise that he never got, so, naturally, he never comprehended. You were a good student—a good person, rather. When he heard your name called after his and the snickers that followed, Eddie was reminded of the fact that you didn’t treat him like a ‘freak’ but a person. And hell, there was a first time for everything when he wanted to try something new. Completing a project because his partner didn’t treat him like dirt? Eddie could at least try it out.

“Why do you think I’m here?” He tapped the cigarette and the ash fell to the floor again. “If I’m going to graduate, I’ve gotta get this done too.”

You nodded slowly in observation. Eddie did not appear to be lying. That blasé attitude he had walked in with gradually decreasing the more you talked. Glancing again at Ms. Kirch who was directly across the room from you beside the table of jocks, the details of the week would be limited to a few seconds before she came charging over and causing a scene. You turned to the small stack of one notebook and history textbook that laid next to your tray. Ripping a paper out of it, you stole the pencil from Nancy’s stack and wrote down your address on it.

“Here,” you handed it to him and he looked over it with a smirk, “that’s my address and phone number. Kirch is going to bite your head off in a minute and we don’t have time to go over all the details so if you’re free later, stop over after school and we can divide everything out.” He knew where you lived. Three doors down from Gareth—his friend and band mate and also, another one of Hawkins’ finest on their way to repeating their final year of school and he was only a sophomore.

“Your parents aren’t gonna beat my ass or anything when I get there? I know I have a bit of a…” he clicked his tongue, tipping his head to the side, “reputation.”

The shrug you gave did not ease his concerns right away. However, the comment that followed made him realize that actually attempting to complete this project with you was a good thing. Maybe luck was finally giving him a chance.

“Not everyone in this town thinks you’re a freak, Munson,” you gave him a small smile, pointing your own finger to one of the buttons on his jacket, “besides, my dad’s favorite band is WASP. I think he’d like someone to talk about it with—even if just for a second.”

He smiled and Nancy Wheeler was taken aback by the scene in front of her. Seven minutes ago, you were in distress with the idea that Eddie Munson was going to be the worst partner imaginable and the cause of failure in senior health class. Now, you were offering him kind smiles and an invitation to your home with so much as his own words being enough to convince you that he wouldn’t leave you high and dry with an unpredictable doll.

Eddie grabbed the doll by its leg again, ready to escape before Kirch made her way but you could already hear her footsteps coming barreling your direction.

“I’ll take it now and bring it over later,” he nodded, sticking the cigarette between his lips again and letting it dangle there, “we should probably give it name instead of referring it as an ‘it.’”

“Mr. Munson!” That shrill voice made him cringe.

“Think about it. We’ll talk about it later, yeah?” He rose his eyebrows at you as if asking you to agree. You nodded, giving a small ‘yeah’ in response before he shot out of the seat.

“Mr. Munson, smoke outside if you must! Do you not understand the rules of this school?”

Behind you as he stood, Eddie turned toward Ms. Kirch. He let out a puff of smoke between his lips as her hand batted the fumes away from her face. The doll hanging on its one limb and swinging left to right as Eddie taunted her.

“Ms. Kirch,” he swooned, a few amused giggles sound from the tables around you as your head tipped over your shoulder, Eddie’s eyes flashed to yours as he played into her hand. “If you wanted to compliment my ability to break those so-called rules, you could at least have sounded excited to say it.”

“You put that out right now or you’ll be spending after school in detention and it’s going straight onto your record!”

“On my record!?” He laid his free hand on his chest, slowly backing up from where he was standing. Eddie was going to bolt because the old woman wouldn’t run after him. “Ms. Kirch, you know how much I respect my record,” he shook his head dramatically, hair vibrating with the shake as the bud sizzled again. “But, I have plans tonight so…”

The cigarette fell to the floor from his lips, cooling against the white tile as she went to protest. Eddie’s shoe squished it, extinguishing it, and once his foot lifted from the flattened cig, he ran. Ms. Kirch walked no more than two feet as brief laughter erupted in the area—sure they all made fun of Eddie and ostracized him from normal high school life but hell, if he didn’t bring a bit of joy to them when he pissed off the old lady that watched them all like a hawk in their freest period. A chuckle slipped out of you and she turned to you with a glare.

“Do you find this funny, Ms. L/n?”

She smelt like stale flowers and her lipstick was pearled in some spaces on her lips. Kirch was haggard and growing older every day.

“No, ma’am,” you shook your head at her and turned back around. Nancy was sitting with wide eyes, scared of the woman who lingered for a moment behind you before running off to find a janitor to clean up.

“Shit,” Nancy muttered quietly.

“What?”

“He’s deranged, Y/n. Deranged.”

“It’s only about a week, right, Nance? Only about a week.”

And that week would be the most interesting week of your life.

Eddie came over as he said that afternoon after school. At your kitchen table before your parents got home from work, you both devised a plan on how to go about taking care of the doll—and as Eddie had asked, you tried to think of a name but that was harder than it proved to be. He said the first thing that popped into his head and that was unfortunately, Bilbo.

Bilbo. A doll named after Bilbo Baggins from The Hobbit was the baby you had to take care of together.

It did not even matter that the doll was plastically formed with female anatomy because he said: “What’s in a name, anyway? It’s just a doll.”

So, Bilbo it was.

And Eddie offered to take it for the night because he had Hellfire on Friday’s when you had nothing, therefore you could swap in the morning and you’d go about the plan when the weekend arrived. The plan, however, was more than what you had originally believed needed to take place for the assignment. Nancy called you Thursday evening after Eddie had left to complain that Steve would be spending all of his free time helping Tammy with the doll and was blowing her off until Halloween—a whole week later. You hadn’t fully realized that what you and Eddie had planned to ensure that you’d both pass health this semester was essentially spending all of your time together [sans Tuesday when his band played at The Hideout and Friday when he had Hellfire].

You slept well Thursday with those thoughts lingering in the back of your mind. Nancy’s concerns were her concerns. She had confided in you that she and Steve were having issues anyway, so one more nail in the coffin did not appear to be as detrimental as she complained it was. If Steve and Nancy were on their final string, the end was imminent. When you woke on Friday, the first thing on your mind was how the night had gone for Eddie and if what Mr. Allen said was true about the babies, had he had an absolutely awful night being a ‘parent’ for the first time?

That question was answered rather quickly as you entered the hallway at seven-thirty.

“Mary! You can’t just leave me with the thing!”

“I am not taking it tonight!”

“It wants food and there’s no way to feed it!”

There were ‘couples’ fighting at every turn. As you passed Tammy Thompson’s locker, Steve looked like he wanted to pull his hair out.

“I can’t do it! I can’t do it!” He complained to her as he held the baby on his hip. It was a sight. Steve in his tight jeans and blue jacket, striped polo, to have a doll perched on his hip like it was real. Everyone was taking it seriously which made the entire situation feel less awkward and daunting.

You reached your own locker, twisting the combination while trying to snoop on Steve’s conversation five lockers down on your left.

“This thing never shuts up! I got no sleep last night and I don’t think I’ll even be able to go to the game tonight because I’m dragging ass!”

“Steve, come on…” Tammy trailed off because she had to sing the national anthem and could not bring the doll with her. But she should have—the doll could probably sing better than her.

“It’s not fair, Tammy!” Steve’s voice began to dwindle as he looked around and noticed people staring at him. He locked eyes with you over Tammy’s shoulder and sighed heavily.

Suddenly, the textbooks and folders in your locker became interesting—far more interesting than all the arguing going on in the hallway. Mr. Allen had made everything difficult intentionally. Splitting up groups so one person cared for the doll at a time before each group realized they couldn’t do it alone. The tactic was good, great even. The responsibilities of childcare and parenting obvious to those who had terrible nights and to those who hadn’t had realized it yet, the feelings were inbound.

As was Eddie. Charging down the hallway after barely hitting a gaggle of kids heading to the middle school in the parking lot and the doll, Bilbo, once again hanging from its hind leg as it swung. He called out your name so loud that even Steve had shut his mouth and stopped talking to Tammy. Eddie had one of those bad nights too. He strode right up to the side of your locker and had a crazed look on his face.

“What the fuck!?” He exclaimed, bags under his eyes. You couldn’t answer the question because you weren’t sure what had gone on.

“What?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’!? This thing,” he held it up like a captured possum, “kept me up all night with its relentless screaming and I couldn’t figure out how to turn it off!”

“I don’t think you can turn it off,” you commented, grabbing your science book and folder as your bag hung from the hook. “That’s not the point of the project. The point is to learn how to care for it, not turn it off.”

“Well,” he laughed cynically, “we were given a devil child. Literally the spawn of goddamn Satan because it doesn’t want to be cared for.”

“I thought we weren’t calling it ‘it’ anymore. Bilbo, remember?”

“Bilbo is too kind of name for this thing. It’s Lucifer… fucking… Sauron!”

“I can’t get on-board with Sauron,” you bit back a smile at his suffering, “But your duty is over now, right? Just leave Bilbo with me and we can meet up tomorrow and swap.”

“You’re not going to be able to do it alone,” he said it honestly, like he was terrified of the watermelon sized piece of plastic. You glanced around the hallway and saw all the partners having conversations similar, but all the same different, like the one you were having with Eddie. He was having an internal battle with himself—realizing that he actually had to do this and that when looking back on his own life, if this is what having a child was like, he could not imagine how his parents got through high school having him at sixteen. He had just turned eighteen and could barely keep it together and it was a doll named after a character from a children’s book.

“Do you not believe I can?” You questioned him yet he shook his head, taking note of the things in your locker instead of looking at you.

“That thing is a monster and if it’s not waking you up, it’s eating away all your free time. If it’s not eating away at your free time, it’s taking up all the time spent doing things that matter. It sucks the joy out of life without even taking a real breath.”

“Those are harsh words, Munson,” a sigh left your lips as you gripped your locker door. He was looking at the two Polaroids that were stuck on the door with tape. You and Nancy on the Fourth of July and then you with a group of little kids a few Halloween’s back dressed as character’s from Star Wars. You were hugging a curly haired Han Solo that had no teeth. “But maybe you just don’t have the parental touch that it needs.”

“What are you saying?” He narrowed his eyes, “That I’m neglecting Bilbo’s needs?”

“Maybe,” you shut your locker, “But either way, you have Hellfire and I agreed to take ‘em off your hands today so,” you grabbed Bilbo from him and perched him like Steve had perched his doll. Something stuck inside Eddie in that moment. It was a goddamn doll and he was sleep deprived, so he conflated his bubbling feelings of whatever the hell spurred inside of him to that. You looked cute holding the doll like that.

“We can talk about it tomorrow, alright? If anything needs to change, we have time to discuss it. Don’t get all worried.”

Eddie shook his head, running both of his hands through his hair and over his bangs before bringing them back down.

“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into, mama.”

And then he walked away. You didn’t know what you were getting yourself into, but, certainly it couldn’t be as bad as he was making it because sometimes, people could be dramatic—and Eddie Munson was the dictionary definition of the word. Always had been, always would be, and maybe, he was playing with the truth.

For three hours it had gone swimmingly. Bilbo made no noise.

But the minute Mr. Grosso put the Spanish test on your desk, the doll wailed so loud it made a girl scream from the other side of the room and you missed the test because it cried for thirty minutes in the bathroom before you could calm it down.

You swore you could hear the popping of his muffler three miles away. The blinds on the living room window comically split into two by your fingers, you peered out in anticipation you had gone to sleep feeling. Not quite butterflies but a nervous, anxious energy that kept you tossing and turning through the night. Along with Bilbo—the baby had kept you tossing and turning to the point where you felt crazy.

When you got home, you realized that the doll had smelt like weed and cigarettes but the distinct smell of Eddie’s cologne tried to cover it up. He had sprayed that doll with so much liquid that it had become ingrained into its clothes and soft body. You ripped off the onesie it was wearing and dunked it in the laundry immediately. And again, for the first few hours you managed to get your homework done for the weekend without much interruption until your parents got home.

They were utterly amused with the project and kept repeating that it was good for “skill building and responsibility.” You rolled your eyes and told them what Eddie had said about his night, expecting the same for your own and sure enough, it was like walking through the pits of hell.

Bilbo’s journey, Frodo’s journey… neither of them had the same horror of the screaming baby doll sitting on your comforter at two in the morning. Hour after hour, all you wanted to do was cry because it wasn’t responding to any of the tactics you had used when you would babysit. No rocking, no shushing, no gentle strokes, and just as the others complained in the hall, you couldn’t change its diaper or feed it. The solutions to ease its complications were non-existent.

Eddie rung you at eleven thirty saying he’d be over ‘in a bit’ and you stood at the window in your living room while your dad watched TV and your mom cooked lunch. The doll laying quietly on the sofa beside him for the first time in a half hour.

“So,” your dad cleared his throat as the program changed at noon, “what’s Eddie Munson like as a partner? I know his uncle Wayne from the plant.”

“He’s fine thus far,” you muttered, not tearing your eyes away from the window.

“You know this doll smells like a skunk.”

“It’s weed, dad,” you said so casually his eyebrows rose, “and it’s Eddie’s, not mine. And no, I don’t smoke.”

“I wasn’t going to ask,” he laughed but he would have. Not that he cared in the slightest if you did, that was all mom. Mom cared about reputation and manners and whether or not you’d have yellow teeth by the time you’re fifty. “But is he treating you alright?”

“What do you mean?” You looked away from the window and back at him, “We’re not really a couple, you know. It’s just a project,”

“I know, I know,” he clarified, waving you off like you had taken the comment too seriously, “as a partner. Not making you feel uncomfortable or anything?”

He might know Wayne, but the label of ‘freak’ extended beyond school. Eddie Munson flew around town in his beat up van playing his metal music at the highest level, smoked and loitered outside of stores, and very frequently, jested with the people of Hawkins to amuse his merry band of oddities.

“Eddie’s a good guy, dad,” you lamented, “so what if he likes metal and plays D&D.”

“D&D?”

“Yeah,” you furrowed your brows at him, “what did you think he did? He literally named the doll after Bilbo Baggins.”

“I thought Hellfire was…”

“What the mothers at the grocery store say it is?” You scoffed and turned back to the window, Eddie’s van turning the corner at the end of the block. “It’s a D&D club. I told him he’d probably get along with you too so try not to accuse him of worshiping the Devil, ‘Kay? That’s like… the furthest thing from the truth.”

He just nodded as you defended Eddie, a little smile on his face because he knew you so well. You were a good kid, a smart kid, but oblivious sometimes. If Steve Harrington had been your partner and he inquired about Steve’s role as a partner, you would have rolled your eyes and ended the conversation there. Eddie pulled into the driveway and you grabbed the baby off the couch, marching to the door. Opening it wide, he hadn’t even exited the van before you were standing there. Split between the wooden door and the glass one, pumpkins littered the small deck and a wreath rested on the door behind your head.

You had a cute house. It was simple and friendly, something his trailer was not. Eddie saw you standing there with a flat face and Bilbo in your hands and he laughed in his car. You could see his elated face burst with laughter; it irritated you but you couldn’t help thinking the sight was special. How often he had been smiling and laughing in your presence and a little butterfly sprouted in the pit of your stomach.

Eddie tossed the keys between his palms as he lazily approached the door, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Looks like someone had a rough night,” he commented a few feet from you as you unlocked the glass door and propped it open. “Didn’t believe me when I said it was Satan?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lied, putting on a face for him to prove you could handle the stress of taking care of a plastic doll. “Bilbo was a saint. Slept through the night.”

Eddie reached the door, holding onto the silver handle so you could let go.

“Yeah?” He questioned, “tell that to your face, sweetheart. You got no sleep and you look like you walked through Mordor.”

“Do you always reference Lord of the Rings or is it just to prove you read?” You squinted your eyes at him.

“One, I do read,” Eddie entered your house and stood across from you in the small doorway. The doll separating you, he looked down, you looked up. “And two, Bilbo likes it when I talk about familiar things,” He gave a wide, toothy smile before grabbing the doll out of your hands and moving into the entryway.

“You know, this kind of feels like how I’d imagine kids of divorce feel.”

“Like being pawned off by their parents every other day because rules told them to?” You shut the door behind you, pressing it closed with the thud. You pointed to his shoes and directed him to take them off to where a mat sat beside the wooden table with a mirror hanging above it.

“Mhm,” he hummed as he slipped them off. He was wearing matching socks. “Poor ‘lil Bilbo Munson-L/n… separated by the rules written on the back of Mr. Richard’s history test.”

You scoffed, walking past him and down the hallway as he struggled with his right shoe. In a matter of seconds, his socked feet patted against the wood flooring and caught up with you.

“My parents are home so don’t be weird or anything,” you muttered and he caught himself nodding at the direction instead of responding with the sarcastic remark because of the way you said it. ‘Don’t be weird or anything,’ as if he was not already labeled that way or saw himself as ‘weird.’ Yes, Eddie was unique and full of a million things you weren’t sure fit a narrative of ‘normal,’ but it didn’t mean he was weird. He was just Eddie.

You rounded a small archway that revealed a living room and an older man sitting on the couch watching the tv. His eyes left the screen and met Eddie’s—who was immediately more reserved than he had thought he’d be. He was nervous, suddenly. Standing in your home, with your father in one room and mother in another, with the task of caring for a baby together looming over his head like a cloud. It was ridiculous and confusing but all the same exciting and challenging for him.

“This is, um,” you glanced at Eddie to put him on the spot. He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out at first. He was holding the baby like a real baby and moved it to extend his hand to your dad.

“Eddie. Eddie Munson. Thanks for letting us use your house,” he said as cool as he could. Your dad looked at his hand, taking not a second later to grip it strongly and shake it.

You noticed the way Eddie’s eyes lit up at being welcomed. His hesitancy dissipating as your dad asked him a question, yet all you could do was watch him. The feeling was odd. Watching Eddie interact with your father was like watching a significant other be terrified to meet the parents for the first time. It was terrifying how quickly that idea not only came to your mind, but felt normal.

Conversations between the two of you before being assigned partners had been totaled at three.

And now Eddie Munson was talking to your dad about their shared connection to Wayne Munson in the middle of your living room.

And for some reason, the sight of it was something you wouldn’t be mad about becoming a normal occurrence.

“I hear you play D&D?” He asked Eddie who glanced at you, already looking at him, before nodding and turning back to your dad. He hadn’t expected you to have talked about him at all.

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“You know,” Rising from the couch, “She babysits some kids that play it. They’re quite the rambunctious bunch but have nothing on that… what did you say its name was?” He asked you, but Eddie answered at the same time you did.

“Bilbo.”

He laughed, repeating the name as he turned toward another archway that led to the kitchen and tipped his head in that direction.

“We never had to do a project like that but I think it’ll do you both good.”

Your mom was standing in the kitchen making grilled cheeses and stirring tomato soup on the stove. She turned her head over her shoulder and gave Eddie a smile. He returned it as his eyes flicked all over the space. He took in the pictures on the wall, the types of plates your family used, the way the sink had a window overlooking the backyard and there was a dog outside on a leash laying on the brick patio. Eddie didn’t have this life. He walked to the patio door and looked out at the yard.

“You gotta pretty nice house here, L/n,” he mumbled as you came to stand beside him. His fingers digging into the plush body of Bilbo as a bit of his hardened shell began to tell him he was out of place.

“It’s nice, yeah,” you admitted, “but it’s a carbon copy of all the houses in this neighborhood.”

He hadn’t put two and two together and noticed the layout was similar to Gareth’s down the street.

“You con your parents to be nice to me too?” He glanced at you as if looking for a conspiracy. That somehow, nothing in his life was this easy. That there was a superficial reason talking to you came easy; that there was a mysterious reason your parents accepted him even if he wore a leather jacket and Motörhead t-shirt and a spattering of rings on his fingers. You weren’t necessarily friends in any way, but he felt comfortable. He looked into your eyes and felt secure because of what? Kindness? The noticeable attention of a girl finally making him soft?

“No,” you said honestly, “just told them a bit about who you were. That’s all. Are you going to stay?”

“Stay?”

“I just thought,” you felt your mouth go dry with his question. Perhaps you were being too forward or not thinking clearly because the sight of him being domestic with a doll had awakened a sleeping giant inside of you. His big, brown, cow-like eyes scanned over your face as you stuttered. “I just thought it’d be easier for both of us the longer we did it together.”

“Oh,” was the sound that escaped between his lips and you immediately began retracting your words. Your parents watched the two of you from the other side of the counter with knowing looks in their eyes.

“It’s fine!” You laughed nervously. “You don’t have to stay. I was just shooting the shit; you know? I’m not trying to keep you from your plans or anything… my mom makes a real mean gc and—“

“—I’ll stay.” Eddie cut in and you stopped rambling, letting the words fall from your lips as he nodded. “I want to stay.”

“O-Okay, um,” you looked into those brown eyes a second longer than you should have before peaking past him and to your parents who tried to appear occupied with cooking. “Eddie’s gonna stay for a bit, if that’s fine.”

“Yeah, hun,” your mom kept her back turned to you and stirred the pot. “He’s always welcome.”

Always welcome.

He had to have hit the lottery with this one. A good, pretty partner and a space to escape to that welcomed him without judgement? He was either in the first circle of Hell or ascending to peace yet his feet were planted on the ground—not a foot from your own.

Eddie spent the entire afternoon there. When the sun fell and the moon rose high, you yawned on the floor of your basement and he knew that it was far past a normal time to spend sitting around, laughing and trying to sooth the unexplainable outbursts of Bilbo. His face hurt from the stupid smile that he couldn’t wipe from his face once the two of you had figured out that the doll had sensors under its arms and swaddling helped stop the crying until another unexplained outburst required attention.

When he walked to his van with the doll swaddled in his arms like a real baby, he turned back as he opened the door and shot one last look to the house where you were still standing to bid him goodbye. Eddie didn’t want to leave. He felt his heart squeeze when you gave him a small wave, illuminated by the yellow lighting of the hallway behind you. Shit. He got into the van and sped off before pulling into Gareth’s driveway and pounded on the door.

You shut the front door and with a lock, your dad turned off the tv in the living room before walking into the hallway to meet you there. Both headed to bed, he put an arm around your shoulders and squeezed.

“We gonna talk about that or no?” He asked.

“About what?”

“That!” He laughed as you felt your face heat up. Rising on the Kelvin scale, you felt a spotlight shrink itself onto you. “You gotta little crush there, darlin’ and to be frank, I think he might too.”

“Dad!” You complained, jostling out of his grip and walking more quickly toward your bedroom. “I don’t like Eddie!”

“Yeah, sure you don’t,” he chuckled as you pushed opened your bedroom door and slammed it closed in embarrassment. “But really, you do.”

Eddie pounded on Gareth’s door for three minutes but no one was coming to the door. Desperate, he put his ear to the wood and heard the distinct thumping of drums echoing throughout the house and contemplated for a moment. He could keep knocking and draw the attention of the neighbors and get the cops called on him for suspicious behavior, or, he could go around to the back and knock on Gareth’s window in hopes that it was closer and louder.

He jumped off the stoop and made for the window. Inside, Gareth was head banging as he played Iron Maiden on his drums and had a literal lava lamp reflecting off the symbols. Eddie put his fist to the glass and waited for a break in the beats to thump. Gareth jumped, a scream emitting from his mouth as his sticks went flying across his room and Eddie waved a hand at him from the other side.

“What the fuck, man?” Gareth opened the window and nearly shivered at the cool, October air. “Why are you here? The cops after you?”

“I just spent eight hours in Y/n L/n’s basement taking care of a goddamn baby and eating her mother’s food.”

“Shit,” Gareth laughed, “that sounds like a fuckin’ dream if you ask me.”

“It’s a nightmare, Gareth. A fucking nightmare.”

“Why?” The floppy hair Gareth had been sporting fell into his eyes as they contorted in confusion. “She’s a nice girl. Her old man helps mine when the cars busted.”

“Of course he does!” Eddie pushed off the windowsill and put his hands above his head, breathing in deeply.

“What? He threaten you or something?”

“No, they were,” Eddie’s face scrunched as if it pained him to say the word, “perfect.”

“Then…” Gareth motioned with his hand for Eddie to continue.

“That’s it! They were perfect! She’s perfect, man!” Then, he let a slew of curses leave his mouth and disappear into the night sky. Gareth laughed, letting a long ‘ahhhhh’ direct itself toward the guitarist.

“Eddie Munson,” he leaned into the bedside table by the window, “in love with the girl next door.”

“FUCK!” Eddie yelled with his hands in his hair.

And he still had a week left to take care of Bilbo with you.

Part 2 Here

#eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #Eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things 4 #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #x female reader #joseph quinn #stranger things 2

[weemsfreak]

Full Circle -Par 3

Part 1

Larissa Weems x fReaderOC

Summary: After Prudence's fathers death, she struggles to get back to her sport, golf. Larissa finally has time to indulge in her long forgotten sport as well, meeting some friends and culprits along the way. Both women hope to find joy on the course, but will they find something unexpected as well? ~6.9k words.

✂ Song that goes well with the fic: Dear Prudence by Siouxsie & The Banshees (linked at bottom)

Note: Hi everyone! So, many people seemed to like the idea of Larissa being part of a country club. I chose golf because I'm more familiar with it than tennis or anything else. There were so many ways I wanted this to go, so I hope that I met your expectations! This is pt 1 of probably 2. (If anyone else wants to be tagged in pt 2, let me know)

Warnings: A bit of misogyny, harassment, alcohol

@dopenightmaretyphoon @danverssawyer @dingdongthetail

Also, you're welcome for blessing your eyes with this image. I wanted to create digital art of her, but I haven't had time, so this is partially AI generated.

☼☼☼

Larissa's life had always been busy, excessively busy. For years, she had been caught up in the rollercoaster of a journey to becoming a teacher at Nevermore Academy, and eventually the Headmistress. She has had little to no time for herself, even during the summer months. However, about five years ago, a weight had been lifted. Well, it felt lighter, as she now had time. Time to return to a passion that she had long neglected and missed dearly. 'You're not getting any younger', she reminded herself. 'Get back out there'.

With that, she found herself at a golf club just outside of Jericho, purchasing a new set of clubs.

After playing alone for most of the season and getting back into the grove of things, she crossed paths with a trio of seasoned golfers: Tom, Glen, and Richard. They had noticed her playing by herself a few times, and one day asked if she would like to join their group.

"What's a pretty little thing like you doing playing alone?" Richard asked, winking at Larissa. The headmistress scoffed at the label, 'pretty little thing'. "I'm just getting back into the swing of things" she replied, trying to brush off his comment. "Come play with us, we've never had the pleasure of playing with a young lady before" Richard replied, wiggling his eyebrows. Tom chimed in, "Yeah, we could teach you a thing or two."

Larissa reluctantly agreed to join the men, and found that their persistent staring during her address wasn't doing her any favors, as her shots were less than ideal. About halfway through the game, Larissa regained some confidence, and started putting more power into her shots. "Pretty good, for a woman" Richard commented with a sly smile. Larissa rolled her eyes at him.

Despite Richards teasing and rude comments, the older men had recognized the potential in the younger woman. They knew that she had strength hidden behind that 'slender frame of hers', as they called it. Hell, she already had the precision.

"I'll make you a deal" Richard smugly said, smirking up at the woman. She straightened her posture and nodded down at him, "Alright." Richard observed Larissa's clubs, noting that they were top of the line. Perhaps money wouldn't motivate this woman. "You got a very nice set of clubs there, it's clear that you have potential. If you beat me on this hole, I'll give you $100." Larissa raised her eyebrows, a bet? She wasn't motivated by the money much, but beating this elderly man and showing them up, well, that was intriguing. "Deal" she said confidently.

As it was, Larissa put her all into everything that she did. Her drive sent the ball soaring with remarkable distance and precision. When it came time to putt, she had hope that she could beat Richard, for she prided herself on her putting skills, which for a lot of people was not a forte. Larissa and Tom managed to finish with a birdie, and Richard and Glen on par. "Well I'll be" Tom marveled. Richard let his eyes rake over Larissa's tall form, a smile pulling at his lips. "She has talent and beauty gentlemen, she's a keeper." Larissa couldn’t' help but shake her head at him as she let out a giggle. "Here you are" Richard said, handing Larissa a crisp hundred dollar bill. "Don't spend it all in one place."

Larissa continued to play with the three men for years, earning their respect and forgoing genuine friendships. She learned a lot from them, not only about golf, but also about life. When a golf season ended, she looked forward to the next. But, as fate would have it, after three seasons Richard didn't show up for golf. Tom and Glen solemnly informed Larissa that he had passed away. She silently thanked him for what he did for her, for he had turned her into a better golfer.

☼☼☼

You have been playing golf since you were a child. Over the years you have learned all the ins and outs of the game from your father, who had been a professional golfer himself at one point. His passion, and yours, for the sport was unmatched. Together you dedicated countless hours to perfecting your swing, honing your putting, and mastering every aspect of the game.

After your fathers passing, you found it very hard to muster the energy or motivation to play, especially without him by your side. Yes, you were grieving, your father and the game. It felt like when you lost him, that part of your life was lost too. Golf, for you, was lost in translation, out of the question, and thrown into the abyss.

And that was how you felt, for the longest time. That was, until your most recent life changing decision. You quickly fell in love with the mountains, greenery, and breath of fresh air that was Jericho, Vermont. You had never ventured far from your hometown, but now, you figured it was time.

Your father had gifted you a set of clubs once you had stopped growing. They were the latest models at the time, and they suited you perfectly. The only club in your bag that was not so new, was your driver. When you were younger and your father had stopped playing professionally, he had gifted you his pride and joy, his driver. After years of wear and tear, though, it was becoming a bit shabby.

You pulled up to the golf course just outside of Jericho, 'West Bolton Golf Club'. You had been here a couple of times recently, your first time back out was harder for you than you had anticipated. Yet, after not playing for a long while, you were still as good as ever. A tad rusty, you will admit, but you thought your father would be proud. You stood your clubs next to a table outside the clubhouse and opted for a sandwich before teeing off. You hummed quietly as you ate, soaking in the sun and the warmth it brought you. It was a beautiful day for golfing, gorgeous in comparison to the other days that you were here.

As you sat and ate, excited to get out on the course, you heard some men laughing at a nearby table. Old men jokes, you thought, never really funny. You turned your attention to them as you watched an older man reach his hand out and playfully swat at a woman's arm. They were all laughing, seeming like they were genuinely enjoying each others company, it made you smile. When you were finished with your sandwich, you walked to the trash and discarded your wrapper, then made your way back to your table. You had caught the eye of one of the older men, as he watched you sit back down and rearrange your clubs. You were glancing at the woman at the table, trying your best to be somewhat stealthy. She was an image, she looked like she was straight out of an old movie. She was definitely a member here, there was no doubt about that. Her whole demeanour screamed wealthy, though it was odd. Usually it would be no surprise to see an older woman at a golf club dressed to the nines, but this woman looked considerably younger than these elderly men. The color of her hair was making you think otherwise, but you'd swear it to be blonde, not white. "Hi there" one of the old men smiled, waving at you and pulling you away from your staring. You smiled and looked around, was he talking to you? He was looking at you. "Hi" you waved back, blushing in embarrassment.

Your attempt to be stealthy was not successful, it seemed. He definitely saw you gazing at the woman, what if she was his wife? The man smiled and made a 'come here' gesture with his hand, to which you stood and made your way to their table. "I haven't seen you here before, you new?" You looked around the table and found six eyes focused on you, two of which were distractingly beautiful. You swallowed, "Yes, I just moved here." The man nodded and responded warmly, "Well, welcome to West Bolton, sit, sit." You returned a quiet thanks before settling in the only empty chair, next to the woman. "I'm Glen, this is Tom" Glen gestured to the man beside him, then turned to the woman, "and this is Larissa." Tom nodded your way, and Larissa extended her hand with an enchanting red-lipped smile. The woman's appearance was nothing short of stunning. She exuded an air of wealth and sophistication, from her golf attire to her jewelry, from her meticulously styled hair to her bold yet elegant makeup. The way she laughed, the way she drank her wine, not to mention her confident demeanor, screamed at you. It was clear now that she was considerably younger than the older men, her porcelain-like complexion fixing you in a trance.

"Nice to meet you, darling" she greeted. You stammered as you shook her hand. You knew that you should give them your name in return, but your breath caught in your throat when the woman's smooth British accent hit your ears. "Y-you too, I'm Prudence." The woman continued to hold your gaze, and you then realized how close you were sitting to her. From this proximity, you could see that her skin was smooth and pale. You couldn't help but feel that you'd hurt her if you touched it. You didn't mean it in the way that she looked old and fragile though, heavens no, but in the way that artists would portray angels- bright, creamy, delicate, exquisite.

"So Prudence, do you play often?" Tom asked, breaking the silence. You shook your head, "Not much anymore, but I used to." Tom gestured to your clubs, "Those are nice clubs you got there." You smiled and nodded in agreement, "Thank you. My father gave them to me, he taught me how to play." "Who's your father? Would we know him?" Glen asked in curiosity. "Paul Clair" you replied proudly. Tom's eyebrows raised, "Paul Clair? From Tennessee?" You confirmed with a nod, "That's him." The old men paused and exchanged glances. "He was excellent at his sport, our condolences" Glen replied. After another moment of silence, Larissa turned to you. "We're going to tee off in a minute, would you like to join us, Prudence?" You considered her invitation, you were intrigued by this woman. But, you were working on your technique, and you didn't want to hold them up.

After politely declining, you allowed the group to get ahead of you before making your way to the first hole. You placed your tee into the ground and set up as you let the fresh air of the fairway fill your lungs, relief flooding your veins. You had always found solace in the manicured fairways and lush greens, which you desperately needed recently, especially today. After teeing off and sending the ball soaring through the sky, you smiled to yourself, "Pru, you still got it".

You took your time to correct your silly mistakes and scold yourself for things about which you knew better, until half way through, when you caught up with the group in front of you. Glen, Tom, and Larissa were at the next hole, joined now by two younger men. You scrunched your face up in confusion, there were only four allowed in a group.

Tom spoke to the newcomers, who looked eager to impress. "Newbies, eh? You wanna learn a few things?" The younger guys exchanged glances before nodding at the old man, "Yeah, sure." Tom demonstrated, setting up the ball and taking his shot, sending it straight down the fairway, out of sight. "Alright, your turn" Tom motioned to one of the boys. You observed the younger men, noticing that they carried themselves rather tall, chests puffed out and chins high. One of them walked up to the tee box and set his ball up, gripping his club and getting into position. The other boy was seemingly fixated on Larissa, and you realized that she was who they were eager to impress. You watched as the ball was sent flying with great strength, but it was a slice, and it landed in the trees. The next newbie took a turn, but didn't make contact with the ball on his first swing. He cursed before trying again and making contact, but not sending the ball far, at all. "Alright, alright" Tom intervened, giving the boys a few tips. After a few minutes, Tom walked back over to Glen and elbowed him playfully. You watched as Larissa chuckled and shook her head, as if she knew what was coming. "Alright boys, I'll make you both a deal." The boys smiled and replied with okays. Tom pointed to Larissa. "If one of you drive the ball further and with more precision than Larissa here, I'll give you each $50." The boys both turned their attention to Larissa, before giving her a one over and a smile. "You boys better buy the woman a drink with your winnings" Glen joked, the boys agreed happily.

You moved closer, eager to see how this bet would play out. Larissa turned to you as you walked up behind her. She smiled, "Shall I give them a run for his money?" You chuckled and nodded your head, "Give it all you've got."

The boys tried again, determined to impress. You had to give it to them, they did better than the first time. "Not bad boys, not bad" Tom praised. "You're up, Rissa." Larissa approached the tee box with a graceful sway of her hips, and placed the tee in the ground. As she set up, you couldn't help but roll your eyes. The boys wandering gazes were venturing lower, they weren't even trying to hide it. Larissa took an elegant practice swing before aligning her club up with the ball. You watched her, captivated by her movements. She was so proper and graceful with everything that she did, every move that she made. She swung and drove the ball, sending it straight down the fairway with grace. "I think that went further than mine" Tom laughed. The boys let out frustrated groans and chuckled in embarrassment. "Well boys, the lady beat you. Don't dwell on it too much, I'll buy you both a drink when were finished." You watched as they all packed their clubs and hopped into their golf carts. Larissa headed to the cart and returned her driver, but before she left, she turned her attention to you and gave you a wink, leaving you in awe.

☼☼☼

1

After a particularly taxing day at work, you sought comfort from the golf course. You decided to sit at a table and order a drink before you started. It was relatively calm tonight, as the beautiful day had turned chilly far too soon. However, the day turned beautiful once more when you caught a glimpse of light blonde hair in a passing group of people. To your surprise, and utter delight, Larissa was sitting at a table, alone. You wasted no time in gathering your belongings and walking over to her. "Hi!" you greeted, gazing down at the older woman. Larissa's face lit up with a smile when she met your eyes, "Hi darling, have a seat."

You settled into the chair beside her and took note of her choice of drink, red wine. You watched as long elegant fingers wrapped around the stem of the glass and manicured hands brought it to her lips. "You blew the boys out of the water the other day, quite impressive" you giggled. Larissa swallowed and chuckled, "Oh, you flatter me so."

You looked around at her empty table, "Where's Glen and Tom?" Larissa waved her hand dismissively, "Sometimes they're too much. I'm flying solo today." You nodded in agreement, "So, how do you know them?"

The woman smiled, reminiscing about the day she met her older friends. "Well, when I first started here, they made a bet with me, much like yesterday. Richard, may he rest in peace, said that if I bet him, he'd give me a hundred dollars." Larissa chuckled, shaking her head, "I got the hundred, and they invited me to play with them. At first they flirted with me and made stupid jokes, but I fired back, and they soon learned that I wasn't going to take any shit." 

You laughed at Larissa's story, "Wow, that's amazing!" The woman nodded, "I still have the hundred, it's on my wall." Your eyes widened in shock, you would've spent that money so fast. "So neither of them are your boyfriend, or husband?" you blurted. Immediately regretting your question, you slapped a hand over your mouth. You don't know what prompted you to ask that, you just wanted to clarify, for some reason. Larissa burst into laughter, throwing her head back as her hand flew to her chest. "No! No love, I'm not with either of them" she replied reassuringly. You let out a breath of relief, "Oh! Okay." Larissa suddenly narrowed her eyes at you. "Did you really think I was that old?" Heat crept up your cheeks, and you felt the need to explain yourself. "Oh, no! I knew you were younger. Well you look younger, but that doesn't mean anything" you smiled, embarrassed. The woman nodded her head in understanding and looked down at her wine glass. "How old do you think I am?" she asked. You froze, you hated that question. Um, 30? 50? You were horrible at this guessing game. "Umm, 40?" you replied sheepishly, it really was your best guess. She smiled, "Close, I'm 49." Your jaw dropped, she didn't look anywhere near that age, not that 49 was old. "How old do you think I am?" you asked. Larissa furrowed her brow as she studied you carefully. You just sat there, feeling like you were being penetrated by her gaze. "Late twenties" she finally said. You shrugged and smiled, "Yeah, good guess."

After Larissa's red was gone, she asked you to accompany her on the course, to which you happily agreed. This woman was a beast at the game, being on par almost every hole (and sometimes under), and never slicing the ball into the trees, water, or bunker. She was a joy to golf with, sharing tips and tricks whenever you needed them. You thought that she would be an excellent teacher. It was apparent that she loved to help and pass on her knowledge.

You watched from behind as Larissa putted, noting the small details of her form. Her putting form, that was. Well, maybe her physical form too. She wore a baby blue colored golf skirt that showed off her long legs and accentuated her wide hips. Her white colored polo shirt fit her perfectly. Her clothes were always pristine with no wrinkles, you could learn a lot from her. Her shoes were white, of all colors, stained with nothing, no grass, no dirt. As your gaze raked over her form from head to toe, you berated yourself internally, for you were no better than any man.

As the sun set and darkness fell, making it impossible to see, you both decided to call it a night. "You did amazingly today, darling" Larissa complimented. Blushing, you packed up your clubs and took them out of the golf cart. "Thank you Larissa, as did you." Larissa's gaze shifted down to your clubs, and she noticed a charm hanging off of your bag. She took the photo delicately in her fingers, "What's this?" It held a photo of your father, which you had placed in a clear case and attached to your bag. It made you feel like he was with you whenever you golfed. "That's my father. I didn't golf for a long time after he passed, so this makes me feel like he's still golfing with me." Larissa looked at you sincerely before running her hand down your arm soothingly. "Well, I'm so glad that you decided to get back to your sport, Prudence. He would be so proud." Larissa smiled down at you before holding her hand out to you. "Can I have your phone for a moment?" You reached into your pocket and handed her your phone, unsure of her intentions. She quickly entered her number into your contacts and handed it back. She had called herself 'Larissa (from golf)' which made you chuckle. "There's my number, incase you ever want someone to golf with, or just to talk to." You smiled up at the lovely woman, reveling in the warmth that her bright blue eyes radiated. "Thank you, Larissa."

☼☼☼

You found yourself driving to a liquor store in Jericho one evening. You had been non stop thinking about wine recently, but you were unsure as to why, you weren't usually a wine drinker. You were searching the store for a brand or variety that may appeal to you, when you set your eyes on red. You had in mind white, or perhaps rose, but something about red was very, very tempting. You picked up the bottle and read the description, you knew it would be strong and dry. You scrunched your face up in question, why was this so appealing to you? Suddenly, you remembered where you got the craving for red, Larissa.

You heard the door bell ding, indicating that someone was entering the store. Speak of the angel and she shall appear, or rather think of her. Her eyes scanned the store as she subconsciously made her way to your isle. She stood next to you and grabbed a bottle of red, the same bottle that you were holding. She didn't notice you standing there at first, and you used that time to take her in. She was wearing a sage green sleeveless dress, and a scarf tied around her head. She adorned nude colored kitten heels, and when you realized how tall she really was, you gasped lightly. Larissa swiveled her head around quickly to find you peering up at her. "Oh, hello love" she spoke, surprised but delighted to see you. You quickly smiled and averted her gaze, hoping she didn't notice your staring, "Hi Larissa." The woman took the bottle in her hands and held it next to yours. "We have the same taste, do we?" she chuckled lightly. You blushed and spoke hesitantly, "I actually never tried red before." Larissa turned to you with a grin, looking you up and down. "Well, I recommend it. It is my favorite, after all." You nodded, if this was Larissa's favorite, you'd at least try it. "So, I take it you live in Jericho?" You replied with a yes. "As do I" she smiled. After you purchased your wine, you walked out of the shop together. "Would you like to golf together again, Prudence? Perhaps Saturday?" You smiled wide and nodded your head excitedly, "I'd love to, I'll see you then."

☼☼☼

2

Saturday rolled around and you were eager to get on the course. You had played a couple of times by yourself recently, and your body ached from the exercise. Being out of practice was defiantly taking it's toll on you.

You played with the older woman, and delightfully you two became closer. You  learned that Larissa was the headmistress of Nevermore Academy, which you were not surprised about at all. When she had told you what type of school Nevermore was, you were a bit nervous, due to being unfamiliar. As you and her talked though, you became increasingly intrigued by Larissa's stories. You learned that her name was Larissa Weems, and you decided that you loved how her name rolled off of your tongue.

"Do you mind?" Larissa asked with a grin, handing you a bottle of sunscreen. She turned around so that her back was facing you, and pointed to the parts of her shoulders and neck that weren't covered by her tan sleeveless polo. "I can't reach very well, but I'm afraid I burn fairly easily."

You poured some sunscreen out into your hand, gently smoothing it over her skin. The warmth of her pale skin, and the contact in general, quickly brought a blush to your face. You tried your best to not miss any spots as you focused on not feeling, or looking, too flustered. Once you applied the sunscreen, you ran your hands lightly down her forearms. On purpose? By accident? You didn't know. Larissa turned around and took the sunscreen from you with a side smile and a flutter of her lashes, "Your turn."

As you spent more time with the headmistress, you quickly found yourself becoming enamored with the tall woman. She was a remarkable golfer, and you both bonded over your similar taste in clubs and similar techniques. She was easy to talk to, she was very sweet, and she was incredibly kind hearted. She had a playful, youthful spirit that was apparent with her constant jokes and antics. She was always ready to bring a smile to your face. Yet, she possessed a mature and responsible side, and when the situation called for it, she could assert herself firmly. You admired this quality of hers, especially since you tended to avoid confrontations. Larissa was the guidance that you needed in life, yet the friend that would support you. You prayed that your connection with the woman would continue to deepen, as you cherished your moments with her.

☼☼☼

"It's a beautiful day for it" Glen remarked, pulling his driver from his bag.

"Sure is" Tom replied. The older men watched Larissa as she prepared to tee off, carefully placing her tee in the ground and taking a practice swing to gauge her aim, factoring in the breeze.

"So Larissa, we haven't-"

"Tom, can't you see that I'm golfing here?" Larissa interrupted, standing and turning to her friend while narrowing her eyes at him. Tom held up his hands in surrender, "Sorry."

After Larissa took her shot, she turned back to him. "I was going to say that we haven't seen you in a bit. Have you grown tired of us old bags?" he joked, elbowing Glen.

Larissa chuckled and shook her head. "No, of course not. I've just been busy."

Tom and Glen teed off, moving to find their place on the fairway. "Busy huh, with what? You're off for the summer, you can't be doing work" Glen exclaimed.

Larissa rolled her eyes, they loved to get her going sometimes. She glanced down at her ball on the fairway, balancing her hand on her club. "I've just been doing my own thing."

Glen and Tom glanced at each other, giving knowing looks. "You've been playing with that young girl, haven't you?" Glen huffed in false annoyance.

The elder men knew that Larissa was interested in women, and they were always supportive. That's why they found it amusing to watch the young men flirt with her, for they didn't stand a chance. Yet, Larissa has been single for a long while, the old men were aware of that too. She didn't want them making jokes about you and her when you were purely just friends. Hell, she didn't even know if you liked women, let alone her. She scrunched her face up at the older men, hoping to appear convincing in her lie. "No I have not, why would you say that?"

Tom chuckled, "I saw your name in the books."

 Larissa stared at them, expressionless, before sighing and nodding her head. "Okay, we have played together a few times."

The old men laughed before moving on to their putting. "Nothing wrong with that" Glen spoke.

"Is she good?" Tom chimed in.

Larissa smiled, thinking back to the times that you two had played together. "Very good, almost as good as I am" she replied, sinking the ball and beating both men by a stroke.

"Shit" Tom murmured.

"Well, bring her out next time, Rissa. We'd love to see her play," Glen suggested.

Larissa gave them a knowing look, "You'd love to annoy her, you mean."

Tom chuckled and placed his hand on Larissa's upper back. "Yes, that too."

☼☼☼

3

Although you were confident in your golfing abilities most of the time, you had always been nervous about golfing with others. You feared that you might hold them back, or appear too cocky, or god forbid have a particularly bad day. Alas, when Larissa texted you and asked if you wanted to play with her and the older men, you had decided that was 'the way of the game', as your father used to say.

You loaded your clubs into a golf cart and sat next to Larissa. Her outfit of the day caught your attention, as it always did. She looked stunning in her red sleeveless dress, which matched her red lips and contrasted nicely against her porcelain skin. She smiled down at you when she saw you eyeing her outfit. She reached out and stroked your arm, making a rush of warmth spread over you as your gaze shot up to meet hers. "How are you today, darling?"

You felt your heart flutter at her question, her eyes brightly boring into your own. She never failed to make you feel cared for and important. "I'm good Larissa, how are you?"

Larissa turned the cart on and shifted into drive, smiling wide.

"Much better now that I'm here with you."

As Larissa drove to the first hole, you dug out a cold alcoholic beverage. You knew it wasn't allowed on the course, as they wanted you to buy drinks from the shop. Sucks for them, you only had so much money, and the prices at the club were steep. "What have you got there?" Larissa asked, peering down at the can in your hands. "Vodka soda, want one?" You dug through your bag, pulling out another. Larissa shrugged and scrunched up her nose playfully, "Sure, why not."

As the day progressed, you found that you were playing rather well. Glen and Tom occasionally made remarks, one about you being so young, and something about Larissa and women. You didn't know what they were getting at exactly, so you ignored them. Larissa and the men shot comments back and forth as you sat in the background in hysterics. The old men really seemed innocent, and you now understood why Larissa liked them so much. By the 9th hole, you had become relaxed and comfortable with their bickering. It was all in good fun, after all.

"Aww, ducks!" you exclaimed, pointing to ducks in a pond while you were passing by in the golf cart. Larissa turned to catch what you were pointing at and stopped to let you enjoy the moment. However, she stopped so abruptly that Tom and Glen almost rear ended your cart. "Rissa, get going!" Tom yelled. Larissa ignored him and turned to you, "Do you want to go see the ducks darling?"

You excitedly nodded your head and exited the cart, walking over to the pond. You observed the ducks happily as they dived for food and quacked, swimming about the small pond. You remembered how your father would point all the animals out to you while golfing, the ducks in the pond, the rabbits in the woods, and the cows that lived next to the golf course, the one back home. You were always scared that if you didn't send the ball straight, it would curve and hit one of the cows.

"C'mon, they're just ducks" Glen chuckled.

"Leave her alone, what are you in a hurry for" Larissa replied, sitting in the cart patiently watching you. She smiled as she marveled over you. She thought that your interest and love for the simple things was adorable, and she would never want to take any joy away from you. She found that, even though you had only played together a few times, you reminded her to slow down and take her time with things, to appreciate them more. In Larissa's busy everyday life, she had forgotten how to do that. She admired the way you thought about things twice, so that you would do them right, but at the same time, you weren't too caught up in the competition, in the hustle and bustle. You went at your own pace and did your own thing, and that was how it should be.

You walked back to the cart and got in, smiling ear to ear. You were grateful for her support, and you appreciated her sticking up for you. "Thanks, Larissa" you said, blushing slightly at her. "Of course love" she replied, reaching for your hand and stroking her thumb over your skin.

You were teeing off at the next hole when Glen noted your worn out driver. "You got a lot of use out of that" he said, pointing to the scuffed up and dented head. You picked it up and brushed it off, "Yea, I guess I could use a new one." "You'd do better with a new one, that one is probably throwing you off" Tom noted. You nodded and chuckled, "I'll get a new one, eventually." Larissa took note of your attitude, it was like something was bothering you. "They have nice ones at the shop darling, we can go look at them" she chimed in. You shrugged, "Maybe another day, I'll have to save up" you embarrassingly admitted.

You sat in the golf cart enjoying a snack as Larissa conversed with the older men. Your jaw almost dropped when your gaze landed on her, the sun cascading around her form and accentuating her red accents. The sky was unusually colorful today, with pink, orange, and yellow hues blended together smoothly. Larissa's smile glowed even more than on a normal day, and her eyes crinkled with joy. She was truly a breathtaking image. An image. You gasped excitedly when you recalled packing your polaroid camera, and you quickly pulled it out of your bag. You looked through the camera lens and focused it on her, your hands shaking as you tried to keep it steady. As you were about to snap the photo, Larissa turned and started walking toward your cart. You pulled away from the camera nervously, hoping to snap a photo without her seeing. You said screw it as you lined the camera lens up with her, ceasing an opportunity that was too good to pass up. She smiled to herself and her gaze met the sky as she made her way to you. You snapped the shot. Candid photos were always beautiful, as they captured the essence of a person. You laid your camera carefully back in your bag, listening to the whirring of the printing photo. Larissa sat next to you, still smiling wide as she gestured to the sky. "Isn't it beautiful, darling?" You looked up at the array of colors, before lowering your gaze to your bag. You chuckled to yourself, debating on letting your thoughts run with the breeze and carry themselves to her ears, 'It's not as beautiful as you.' Alas, you refrained and your gaze met hers warmly. "It really is Larissa, it's so beautiful."

After the 16th hole, you loaded your clubs into the cart and settled in the passenger seat again. You had a few drinks while on the course, which may have affected your performance, but not too much. You were caught off guard as Larissa stepped on the gas, giggling, as she thought it would be hilarious to leave Tom and Glen in the dust. You squealed as you fell gently into the woman, and quickly grabbed the handle to pull yourself away. She raced down the dirt path to the next hole, and you watched as the sunscreen fall out of the cart and onto the ground. "Shit Rissa, the sunscreen!" you hollered. The older woman slammed on the breaks, the cart drifting in the dirt and gravel. You jumped out and retrieved the sunscreen, laughing hysterically. "Geeze, you gotta be somewhere?!" you said, eliciting a cackle from Larissa as she drove down the path. When you stopped, she leaned closer to you and took your hand in hers again. Her plump lips curled up into a cute smile as brown eyes met blue, and you blushed. "You're very fun to be around, Prudence. Thank you for coming out today" she whispered. Your blush deepened as you looked down at your intertwined hands and squeezed hers reassuringly, "It's my pleasure. You're a delight, Larissa."

Glen ended up winning this round, with Larissa in second and you in third. Tom, being the loser, offered to buy the drinks. As you all sat, worn out from the day, a man appeared at your table, "What can I get you all?" He looked younger than Larissa, yet older than you. You noticed that he was paying an unusual amount of interest towards the woman. He talked enthusiastically, and you watched him as he took the old men's orders of beer, your order of a rum and coke, and Larissa's order of red wine. He took Larissa's order last, looking her up and down with a smirk. He then opened his mouth, to your dismay. "I saw you playing today Larissa, not your best day huh? Maybe it's because you're not wearing your blue skirt. That one shows you off nicely" he winked. Before you, or anyone else could say anything, the man walked away. Larissa let out a groan in annoyance and placed her head in her hands. "What the hell is his problem!?" you asked, frustrated and confused. Larissa sighed and turned to you, about to respond, when Glen spoke up. "He's a cocky young thing. He works and plays here. When Larissa first started playing, he challenged her."

"He challenged her, and Rissa beat him! Now he's sour about it" Tom added, rolling his eyes. Larissa leaned in closer to the men and whispered in disgust, "He never leaves me alone. I always see him eyeing me, little pervert."

"He'll get what's coming to him" Tom replied confidently, taking a drink of his beer.

After a drink and some much appreciated golf advice from Glen and Tom, another man made his way to your table and stopped next to Larissa. "Red wine, a fine choice" he said, flashing her a toothy smile. Larissa smiled back and nodded, "Yes, it's my go to." The man looked around the table at the older men, then at you. "May I buy you another?" he asked, gesturing to her drink. Your eyes narrowed at him, how arrogant, it seemed that he had deemed her available to flirt with. Tom laughed and shook his head, "You're barking up the wrong tree pal." Larissa glared at Tom with an expression that said 'shut up.' She then looked up at the man and waved her hand dismissively, "Thank you, but I'm fine." The man replied while eyeing Larissa up and down. "Are you sure? I saw you golfing today, and I'm pretty impressed." Larissa chuckled but shook her head no, about to politely decline again, when you spoke up. You furrowed your eyebrows at the man and placed your hand on Larissa's, "She said she's fine." The man's eyes widened in surprise as they shot to you. He then nodded and headed back to his table. Larissa gazed down at you and chuckled in amusement and surprise, squeezing your hand lightly. She hoped you couldn't read it on her face, but she thought it was precious, how you defended her. "Someone has a crush" Glen spoke, picking up his beer and taking a sip. Larissa smiled, "I'm sure he just wanted to talk about golf." Glen raised his eyebrows as he looked at you, "I'm not talking about him."

Larissa gave him a questioning look before letting go of your hand, "I'll be right back." As soon as Larissa entered the building and was out of sight, the men turned to you. "So, what are your intentions with our friend here?" Tom asked. You tilted your head in confusion, "What do you mean?" "Do you like her?" Glen chimed in. You raised a brow, "Well yeah, I like her. Why wouldn't I?" Tom and Glen smirked at each other before chuckling at your obliviousness. "No, are you interested in her? Do you like women?" Your mouth dropped open as you blushed lightly. You knew the answer to that question, but why did they care? You shrugged, "No, no. I mean maybe, yeah."

Larissa was making her way back from the washroom when caught your conversation. She stopped at the door and discreetly listened in. "Well, she likes women, and she's single" Glen replied, hinting. Larissa's mouth opened in disbelief, they were just casually outing her to you? Okay then. "You know she's 49, right?" Tom laughed. Larissa's mouth dropped further, they weren't ones to talk about age. You chuckled and shook your head at the men, now eager to speak the truth. "I don't care if she's 49, she's fucking lovely." Glen and Tom erupted into laughter at your response, but inside, a toothy smile lit up the older woman's face. Larissa's heart swelled in her chest at your words, you innocent thing you. She returned to the table and settled down next to you, scooting her chair closer to yours. Her eyes crinkled as she smiled down at you, and when you returned a side smirk, she gave you a knowing wink.

☼☼☼

Part 2

#larissa weems #gwendoline christie #principal larissa weems #wednesday netflix #lesbian #gwendolineuniverse #principal weems #larissa weems fanfic #larissa x reader #larissa weems x reader #Youtube #golf larissa weems

[teambyler]

"Byler Endgame, One Episode at a Time" - s5e2

Plot beats and scenes leading to a Byler endgame, one episode at a time, for Season 5 of Stranger Things. (This is just for fun! I have no insider knowledge!)

Also see Part 0, where I explain what I think a Byler Endgame has to address. Link to the previous episode.

s5e2

Mike confronts El about not talking to him. “You know I love you right?... What’s wrong?” El says he only said I Love You to save her life. Mike: “I’m sorry it took me so long… I was afraid you’d give up on me. Like, who am I to you? I don’t deserve you El. Then I thought about the painting you gave me, and how you feel—” “—What painting?” “The D&D painting of me and the party fighting the dragon.” “That game you guys play?” She had nothing to do with it. Mike: “Why would Will lie to me?” El: “Maybe to… fix us? …” El thinks out loud, “So what you said wasn’t real…” Mike is angry. “It WAS real, El! Oh my GOD Will, I need to talk to him. He’s never lied to me before. Ever!” El thinks about it and secretly has a guess (“I think there is someone he likes…”) “Don’t worry. I’ll talk to him.” He insists, but El says she’ll talk to Will, and… “I think we need to take a break.” Mike isn’t happy but doesn’t push it. He insists she can always reach out to him and he’ll be waiting. They hug.

El talks to Will. She brings up the painting and asks him why he lied. He is embarrassed. He confesses he has “a crush” on Mike, but he plays it off as something he’ll get over. He’s terrified of her reaction, but she’s okay. El explains she and Mike are no longer together. Will says he’s so sorry - El assures him he had nothing to do with it. She also clearly has no problem with him being gay. El: “Have you thought of telling him?” “He’s my best friend. It would ruin everything. He's too important to me…” Will doesn’t want anyone to know any of this. She says she’ll respect Will's secret.

“A PLOT” SHENANIGANS THAT INCLUDE WILL RUBBING HIS NECK, STABILIZING THE SITUATION IN HAWKINS, AND BRINGING MAX OUT OF HER COMA. MIKE HASN’T HAD MUCH TIME TO PROCESS ANYTHING.

Mike arrives home and his parents lecture him again. Mike goes to his room and slams the door. He’s had it with feeling awful about himself, and now he has lost El. He looks at the painting and cry-laughs. Zoom in on HEART. His mouth drops… (Flurry of flashbacks: “You’re the heart, I know it’s kinda on the nose…” “You make her feel like she’s not a mistake. Like she’s better for being different” [Mike hanging on to every word in van] “She loves you Mike, and she always will!” Will: “Sometimes it’s hard to say how you really feel”) … Mike realizes the painting was from Will and only Will… Mike is shocked.

Will returns home. Mike is hanging up the painting in the basement. He smiles: “A D&D painting should be in the D&D club, right?” Will is confused but says okay. They talk about the events of the day. Will acts casually friendly/physically close, but Mike avoids physical touch and gives the pat on the back. Will is hurt and it is Airport Scene 2: Electric Boogaloo. (The GA: “Oh that’s thoughtful of Mike to not raise Will’s hopes”)

FOLLOW ME for the next part of “Byler Endgame, One Episode at a Time”!

Part 0 (what a Byler endgame needs to address) Previous episode Next episode

(And read my blog! I say a lot about Byler!)

#byler #fanfic #speculation #st5 speculation #st5 #byler endgame #one episode at a time #byler theory #stranger things

[pacific-coast-hockey]

Georgi Romanov: A Brief Introduction*

*bc there is not a lot of information about him in English.

Good evening to the greater Sharkudablr community, it has come to my attention on the eve of Georgi Romanov's Possible First NHL Regular Season Start that not all of you know about Georgi Romanov or appreciate him appropriately. This is insane to me as someone who spends approximately 40% of my waking hours thinking about Georgi, but then I realized that as a person with a blog, I can just say stuff to fix that.

This is Georgi Romanov:

He's not exploding you with his brain, he's actually exploding his teammates with his brain, you're just standing there.

This is also Georgi Romanov:

Goaltender Interference with the Barracuda is when Your Goaltender Interferes With You Beating The Shit Out Of Kole Lind 😌

This is ALSO Georgi Romanov:

At beginning of the season, sadly he got a haircut so he looks less like the kind of beautiful Eastern Orthodox saint you'd find in a stained glass window who was like the patron saint of taking poppers at Ultra Europe. Who said that.

Georgi Romanov is so important to me. He was a frequent flyer on the Wichita Express this season which makes it all the more joyful that he made a) to the NHL, and b) saved...uh...a couple of...shots against Edmonton. Fuck Edmonton all my homies hate Edmonton. Anyway, the Cuda signed him this summer thinking they were getting a lil buddy for Beck Warm (in the ECHL) and then he proceeded to kick ass at the AHL level and matched or outplayed Chrona and Mäkiniemi every step of the way and then Jmac way overplayed him and he did amazing anyway. Then I got to experience Jmac and GMJW putting him on the Wichita Midnight Rider bc the Sharks had uh really been banking on Chrona and Mäkiniemi for their goalie prospect pipeline and were NOT expecting some 23 year old kid who had played ONE single KHL game to actually be very very very very good, but like Jmac is incapable of spreading starts evenly between all three goalies, so Georgi had to be removed from the premises.

But he is very very very very good. Even though he suffered severe Strauss Mann-ification, he has risen to the challenge again and again! When Chrona got called up to the Sharks and then Mäkiniemi went down with mono, he basically got called up full-time to be the third goalie in the Cuda and he has been killing it ever since.

Here is an interview SJHN did with him at the beginning of the season, by the only man I trust on this bitch of earth, Nikita Sokolov. It's a good article, here are some fun tidbits:

Had to learn to tie a tie when he came to North America because in his Russian team (TIER 2 RUSSIAN LEAGUE!!) he just wore tracksuits

Stayed in Knyzhov's house for a month before signing a lease, which doesn't help the "Nikolai Knyzhov is the eldest daughter of the Barracuda" allegations but is so so funny to me too

The mattress company never delivered his mattress and he didn't speak enough English to resolve this, so he had to get his teammates and agent to help him out. I love thinking about Nikita Okhotiuk arguing with a mattress company. I think I would just give him a free mattress at that point.

Bought a car here with a loan to build credit bc him and his wife "need to think about the future. We want to be here for a long time.” 🥺🥺🥺

Here are some facts about Georgi from k 18minutemajor, when I asked if they had any fun facts:

Romanizes his name as Romanoff on instagram

It appears his nickname is Gosha!

Cuda fans all love him very much 😭

They also did amazing art of the greatest hits of Situations Happening To Georgi which I cannot overstate has crossed this man from give Georgi a knife to give Georgi several hand grenades. Please look at it and appreciate it and click on the links bc Georgi has suffered so much and still he remains so beautiful and so deadly.

Here are some facts about Georgi that you may only know if you attend games regularly or watch games on AHLtv:

He habitually bangs his stick on the ice when he gets pissed at his team. Or possibly encouraging them but usually it's when defense is falling apart and shots are like 45 to 30 Firebirds/Cuda, he starts slamming his stick against the ice like...a warning...a reminder...he's coming for ALL your motherfuckers.

Cuda stick the back up goalies in the tunnel and MOST of our goalies are so normal and just sit a couple feet back from the glass and hang out. NOT Georgi. Georgi has Emi the athletic trainer drag his chair right up to the glass and then he crosses his arms on the lip of the board and then he rests his head on his gloves and watches the game with his face pressed against the glass.

When we were rocking a line up with Nikita Okhotiuk for a few brief beautiful weeks, I very much watched Georgi on at least one occasion go up to Okhotiuk during a stoppage and take his water bottle from his hands. MY water bottle. And Nikita just let him.

Often the Cuda lose at home. Often the Cuda are trying to get the fuck off the ice as fast as possible. OFTEN Georgi will do a little one man salute of the arena with his stick while the rest of the team is streaming off the ice. Guys I think he really likes us :(

Cuda Goalie vibes this year were INSANE like I do not even know how to explain what was going on there without going full Pepe Silva BUT by the end of the year, things seem to have um. Well. I once watched Mäkiniemi (with mono!!) run -- run!!! -- down the stairs from the scratches box to go stand by Chrona in the tunnel to watch Georgi face a shoot out and when they lost, both of them waited for him to get off the ice. Guys I think they really like each other :(

Signed for one more year which I guess you could look up on CapFriendly, but EYE didn't know that until this week and I spent no joke like the entire season barfing with anxiety that we don't bring him back. But NO. Provided GMMG doesn't give me a 15th or 16th reason, we have ONE MORE YEAR OF GEORGI 🥳🥳 and will maybe (probably) be rocking a Chrona/Romanov tandem. Which is so beautiful to me as an Employee Appreciator.

Also here's some photos of Chrona and Georgi hugging:

It's the way Goosh was waiting for a hug and gave up for me lol

In conclusion: Georgi Romanov is so important and Sharkudablr needs to love him So Much. Thank you for listening 😌

#georgi romanov #san jose barracuda #''brief''

[petalruesimblr]

Sandy Shores Beach

Download Link: Sim File Share | MTS (for approval)

Description:

Welcome to Sandy Shores Beach, where sun-kissed sands meet the rhythm of crashing waves. Dive into relaxation as you sip on refreshing drinks at our outdoor bar, groove to the beats of Latin music and savor the taste of grilled delights from our outdoor grills. Challenge friends to a game of chess on our beachfront chessboards, or gather around our community picnic tables for some seaside fun!

Details:

Price: 23,915 Lot Size: 40x30 Lot Type: Beach Version: 1.42 Store Content: String of Inspiration (Wall) ⚠️ CC Used: None Packs Needed: The Sims 3, Ambitions (floor and wallpaper), Generations (wallpaper), Late Night (gothic column), Seasons File Type: Package ⚠️-Not included in the download

Hey everyone! It's a great day to share one of my earlier builds, Sandy Shores Beach, which I originally created for a small world that I typically prefer for gameplay. Initially placed on a smaller lot, I decided to move it instead to Sunset Valley and placed it at the Recurve Stand lot.

Click on the ’Keep Reading’ below for more information and pictures on this lot.

This beach lot features an outdoor bar with tables overlooking the beach, perfect for romantic dates, as well as picnic tables with barbecue grills for Sims who enjoy cooking their own food.

Additionally, there are outdoor chess tables for entertainment, picnic blankets to get away from the crowd, lounges and a sandbox for children to play in. There's plenty of space for activities like ball games, tag or just running around.

I have checked the empty or existing beach lots with other worlds I currently have and it can fit in Twinbrook (42x52) and Appaloosa Plains (40x55) though you may need to use the Soften Terrain tool to smooth it out a bit for easier Sim navigation.

📣Please be aware that there are spawners used on this lot thus I would advise to not rotate the Beach Lot to avoid duplicate spawners and remove spawners when the lot is deleted due to them remaining on the empty lot. To check and remove spawners, enable “testingcheatsenabled true” and “buydebug on” after.

I've also included Public Picnic Spots, which will appear when using the same cheat codes mentioned above. Feel free to use the dropper tool to copy and place more picnic spots on the lot.

📣Please also note the required expansions pack listed in the Lot Details above especially those that uses the build items such as floors, columns and wallpaper, the lot would not show up in your game if you don't have those unfortunately. For the rest ,they are mostly décor which will automatically be replaced in your game.

Spawners:

2 Metal Spawner - Iron/Silver/Gold

Outside:

3 Public Picnic Spots

3 Outdoor Chess Tables

Turtee the Turtle

6 Lounge chairs

2 Boardwalk Picnic Table

2 Park 'n Grille

Bar Area:

Professional Bar Dive Edition

2 Paddy’s Irish Pub Stand

6 Bar Stool

4 Tables

8 Chairs

Public Bathroom

#petalruesimblr #the sims 3 #community lot #lots #the sims 3 beach #beach lot #ts3 #ts3 simblr #sims 3 download #sims 3 screenshots #ts3 download #ts3 screenshots #sims 3 lots #ts3 simmer #ts3 beach #sims 3 #ts3 community

[perpetualexistence]

Remember Total Drama Action: Best Game Ever?

In case you don't, it was a flash game that came around when Total Drama Action was airing live. You play as an intern who got to interact with the cast on TDA. You could make alliances with contestants by performing tasks for them, and certain alliances would damage your relationships with others. You'd also perform tasks for Chris. You also had constant enemies that you could beat with weapons that you could upgraded the more tasks you did for Chris. A fact I'd COMPLETELY forgotten about until now. When it was live, you'd get new tasks each week, and you could save your progress by making an account on Cartoon Network.

When I was watching TDA and way, WAY before I was in the fandom, and before I even knew what fandoms WERE, I remember playing it. My favorite character actually used to be Leshawna. I barely even remembered Noah existed, sweet little naive child I was. As a result, I of course immediately made an alliance with her, and thus got Heather as an almost instant enemy. It was great, and I've got very fond memories of it.

Why do I bring this up?

Well, thanks to @wheredidalltheusersgo, I managed to find a working link of the game: https://www.numuki.com/game/tda-best-game-ever/

You can only play as a guest since the original server is long since gone. But as I've found through trial and error, the site actually DOES save your progress even if you close it.

So obviously I had to play it again. I was having so much fun I started taking screenshots because of how wild certain things were. I thought you guys might enjoy them as much as I did, so I figured I might as well post them here.

I'd also completely forgotten you could customize your character. Got to make sure she looks Fresh for FreshTV.

Perfect. We're serving off-Izzy vibes and are rocking a fedora. Time to get through this tutorial shit so I can talk with the besties.

Cue me doing a bunch of fetch quests for Chris. Most of them require going into little studios based on each of the episodes. I'm pretty sure when it was live each studio was closed until the corresponding episode aired, and then would open up once the episode released. In this version though, they're all open.

There's also a lot of beating critters up with a stick. Like for the alien studio they're guys in alien costumes, for the beach it's a bunch of crabs and sharks, etc. You can avoid most of them by running around them, though you only get money for beating them. Which you of course need to get newer outfits to look Even Fresher. So death to all who oppose me I guess.

Through me trial and erroring if this game did save, I accidentally screwed myself out of getting into an alliance immediately after I was done with the tutorial. Once you get started on one of Chris's tasks, you have to do them to completion, and they usually come in groups of threes. No big deal though. Just have to do the last one for this second wee-

Jesus CHRIST Heather, you seriously take no survivors.

Either way, tasks are done, now time to choose an ally. The options include all of the TDA contestants, plus Geoff and Bridgette. None of the peanut gallery for that season sadly.

I could just do Leshawna for old time's sake. Or I could have this be the start of my villain arc and go with Heather. Hmm, decisions decisions...

Well, I already look like off-Izzy, might as well pair up with actual Izzy!

Wow your pixels are so crunchy, Izzy. Especially compared to my character's.

Still, I knew I made the right choice with you, Izzy. Out for blood from the get go. Never change. Time to go ruin Heather's day.

Heather's are even CRUNCHIER.

Also, is that genuine gratitude? From Heather? Receiving what she thinks is just a regular gift box?

Guys, I just might be the monster here.

And after killing some crabs for Izzy, my rampage of terror shall continue! Somebody's really got it out for her ex.

I didn't take screenshots of it, but after completing each of the antagonizing tasks, both Heather and Justin came up to us swearing that we would pay. Which means now the top right of my screen has this on it:

At least here the pixels are a lot less cronchy. Still, Justin's angry face is Sending Me. I can't explain exactly why. Maybe it's because it highlights just how much of his face is CHIN.

Still, I have done what is required for my new bestie, time to reap the rewards.

Yeah this feels about right.

And that's all I did before I decided it was time to take a break before I got in too deep! (I already am, but shhhh don't tell me-)

If you guys are interested in seeing more of my shenanigans, let me know. I'm probably going to keep playing and taking screenshots as more wild things happen.

But for now, I need to actually go eat dinner. I seriously need food, the allure of nostalgia was just too strong.

#perp plays Total Drama games #not a tag I ever expected to make #but here we are #total drama #total drama action #total drama action: best game ever #total drama games #total drama game #toatl drama izzy #td izzy #total drama heather #td heather

[greazyfloz]

Are you going to do a part 2 for Ethan dating his coach’s daughter?

Coach's Daughter Part 2

Part 1

Warning: some swearing

Word count: 1.7k

[POV Ethan]

I turned into my rightway right after after leaving from my weird encounter with my coach… my girlfriend’s father. I honked the horn signaling I was here as I already previously texted them that I’d swing by to pick them up. 

“How’s Y/N” Mark says breaking the silence of the awkward car ride. “Good, I think” I reply. The boys all giving me a weird look as I am pulling the car into the parking lot. “Why ‘I think’” questions Mark, “What happened” questions duker. “Nothing happen- well yeah something did, but it’s not important. I mean coach did find out, but- yea” I say not wanting to give too much information as I feel myself starting to turn red from embarrassment from the memory of this afternoon. The boys all laugh as we get ot of the car and enter Yost. 

As we entered Yost a little ways behind some of the freshmans, I immediately hear an angry coach sarcastically call out to me “Edwards, glad to see you made it, and clothed”. I immediately turn red as the boys all start laughing. I just put my head down and head to the dressing room. The [Y/N] and I were the main topic of conversation and mostly chirps throughout prepping for the game between the boys.

After warming up a bit, I entered the dressing room and checked my phone before getting dressed. 

Princess 💕: Hi baby, good luck. I probably won’t be at the party tonight. Don’t worry about him though, I’ll talk to him!

Princess 💕: Should I keep the bra off or put it back on for the game? ;)

Princess 💕: too soon?

Ethan: Thanks babe

Ethan: and off ;)

Looking up from my phone, smiling starting to think of my topless girlfriend my thought were suddenly interrupted from druss “That coaches daughter?” he snorts, “it is, look at him blushing” luca adds. “I’m not talking about this, here” I say turning to get ready. 

After getting my gear on, and warming up, my worries of what this means for hockey seem to go away as I make my way to the dressing room. “Alright boys, Michigan State” one of the coaches say entering the room before [Y/N]’s father appears at the doorway staring at me. I look away immediately and awkwardly before he starts to speak. “We can beat this team!” he starts more anger in his voice then normal. “We have beaten this team, they are not as good as us. If you aren’t giving 100%, 100% of the time, I will put someone on who will” he says, the last part staring at me. I look around to see the rest of the guys looking over at me too with wide eyes. “Don’t be the weakest link tonight, lets go boys!” he says before we huddle in before our chant. ‘Oh boy, he is going to be hard on everyone tonight because he is angry with me’ I think to myself. 

[Y/N POV] 

Tonight I decided to sit with my mother and my younger brother instead of in the student section to try and get some brownie points on my mothers side, but also allow me to talk to her as well so I have someone on my side. 

“Why didn’t dad wave to us tonight” my little brother asks my mother as my father enters the bench without looking up at my mother. “Dad is worked up about something that happened today, he’s okay” my mother says while looking over at me. ‘Shit! She knows!’ I think to myself. I look down thinking on how I was going to bring it up now. 

During the first period, my mother turns to me after giving my brother money to go get something from the vending machine. “So, Ethan”, she starts gaining my eye contact, “are you guys dating or are you-”, ‘Yes mom” I say quickly before she finished because I didn’t want to hear her finish. “We have been for a couple months, but didn’t know how dad would react or some of the boys on the team. I wanted to tell you but I thought you would tell dad, and I wasn’t ready for that. But i promise we were going to wait until after the season.” I ramble on. My mother and I were close so i really wasn’t lying on wanting to tell her. 

She nods at me, “your dad called pretty frazzled this afternoon. I guess I’m glad you guys are dating if you guys are at that point in your relationship. Your father will be fine, I guess he would have liked to have known but I told him I would have the awkward side of this talk before he has a chat with you.”, “Yes, we use protection if that what you want to hear and we are very very safe, and he is really good to me and yea. Is that the conversation we needed to have? And does he have to talk to me if you already did though?” i say gaining a chuckle from my mother. “He is the one that saw it, it is just to make him feel better. I trust you. I from what I have heard in past conversations and from any experience I’ve had with Ethan, he seems like a great guy, and I know your father thinks highly of him as well”. I smile at my mother before my brother comes back and the game resumes. 

The game went on and we were in the 3rd period now. Ethan went into give someone a hit in the boards and the Michigan State player ended up falling to the ice. Immediately a scrum broke out behind Portillo’s net. Only player on the play to receive a penalty was Ethan. I look down at my father who is oddly calm. “He isn’t going to challenge that” I say looking at my mother and brother, “It was a clean hit and there was a scrum… Why didn’t state get one too?” I continued. My mother shrugged looking kind of confused by my fathers calm demeanor down on the bench as well.

Ethan goes to the box obviously a little angry, before shutting the door behind him, he starts mouthing at the ref resulting in him being tossed from the game. “Well, if dad isn’t going to fight for him, I don’t blame him” i say crossing my arms and slouching into my seat.

When the final buzzer went off, the scoreboard read 4-5 for blue. My mother, brother and I stand to clap at the end of the game, as the players left the ice surface. We sit back down waiting for the crowd to leave before we make our way down to the tunnel. My mother reached for her phone while we are waiting in our seats, “Well, your brother and I are going to go home. Your father wants to talk to you in his office” she says looking at me. “Why can’t he just say what he has to say at home, with you there” I say. “You’ll be fine. I’ll call him while you are on the way down to tell him we had discussed this.” she laughs, before motioning to my brother ‘let’s go’. “I will see you later” she says leaving me.

I stayed sitting for about 10 minutes before making my way to his office. I walked slowly to his office dreading the moments that are going to follow. When I reach his office I knock quietly seeing his door was shut. “Yup, come in”, I hear my father yell. I open the door to see the back of ethan’s head already sitting inside of the office and my father on the phone. I take a seat in the chair next to ethan. He looks at me as I sat down and gave me a soft smile, I which I returned. “Well, yes. I know. okay. okay. She just got here, so I will see you at home. Okay. Bye, I love you” my father says on the phone as I reached out for ethan’s hand under my fathers desk. Ethan gladly took my hand as my dad hung up the phone.

“That was your mother” he says looking at me, I just nod back. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on here” my father says pointing his finger back and forth between us. “I have been seeing your daughter for a couple months now, coach. It’s not something that was suppose to be a secret it just was I guess” ethan starts, “How long is a couple months?” my father asks, “Since about a month into the season” I say relieving ethan from being the only one speaking in the conversation. “4 Months?! It has been 4-” my father starts but checks his volume before continuing, “I know you have already had a chat with you mother so I’ll save that talk”. “I’m sorry coach” ethan says. My father just nods his head slightly before looking at ethan.

“I just wanted to hear it from you. This isn’t going to effect your hockey Edwatds, because frankly I’m not allowed to. And because I do like you Edwards. You’re a great guy and a hell of a hockey player. The penalty wasn’t your fault. I was too angry to call the review, and I apologize for my unprofessional actions. Get out of here your free to go” he says to Ethan, as ethan gets up to leave. As ethan opens the door my father speaks up “Edwards” he says making ethan look back at his place at the door. “Hurt her, and we will have a different and much longer conversation, understand?”, “Yes coach. I would never hurt her. Ever.” ethan says before shutting the door behind him.

“Why didn’t you tell me” my father says to me. “I guess I was scared of how you would react. We were going to tell you after the season though”. “Okay, well i do trust you and there isn’t a point in making this conversation last all night if this is someone you are sure about. Go on” My father says standing from his desk chair. I gave him a hug and say “thank you dad” before leaving his office. 

The next couple days were awkward but the awkwardness went away very quickly. And my relationship with Ethan went on to be respected by both on my parents.

#ethan edwards #umich hockey #umich imagine #umich hockey imagine #umich blurbs #ethan edwards imagine

[sleepy-gee]

stay with me - finnick odair/gn!reader fluffmas ao3 link

The Victory Tour being conveniently placed in the holiday season leads to some lonely nights. Thankfully, you're not alone.

pre relationship/very beginning of relationship, mostly plotless just hurt/comfort, more winter themed than christmasy but shh, pre-canon, read on tumblr v or on ao3 (link above ^)

The Victory Tour being conveniently placed in the holiday season leads to some lonely nights. A lot, in fact. Sure, it's just twelve days, but those days conveniently cover both Christmas and New Years. New Year's Eve is funnily enough your last official night of the tour, spent in the Capitol with a glamorous party. Maybe it's supposed to remind you that in the end, you'll always be with them. You can never escape.

The dull hum of the train you're in aggravates you more than anything, spurring on the bitterness and resentment you feel. Being pulled away from all your families and loved ones to only spend it reliving the horrors of the games- The 23 innocent lives lost, rubbing it in their faces that you were alive to celebrate it all while the others were nothing but a pile of dirt and bones now. Some were a pile of ashes, if their family was rich enough for it. You definitely were. The thought made you sick.

Bitterness turned into anxiety, which made itself a nauseous nest in the pit already formed in your stomach. You couldn't stay still. Not for much longer. All you wanted was to go home and run away from it all, hide in your ridiculously fancy house under your ridiculously fancy bedsheets and pray for everything to stop.

But, of course, you couldn't. You had a show to put on. Smile and wave for the adoring crowd- Just be yourself!

The funny part was, you nearly made it out somewhat unscathed- 18 when you were reaped. You had survived 6 years, and had 1 more to go- But your luck ran out. The odds were never in your favor.

You'd puke if you thought about it any longer.

Not able to stay still any longer, you climbed out of your plush bed and grabbed your robe, wrapping the silky material around your shivering body as you crept down the hall into the main room. The resemblance to your own house was a little frightening- You swear you have a lamp in your living room just like the one on your right, lampshade covered in seashells with a soft green light coming from the bulb.

No one else seemed to be awake, which equally relieved and upset you. While you didn't have to explain your jittery demeanor, familiar human contact would've been nice. You plopped yourself down on one of the sofas in the main room and curled up into a small ball, staring into space as you tried to calm yourself down. Everything felt off. Nothing was right. 

The sound of a door opening caught your attention, and your heart skipped a beat. Footsteps followed, leading to your location.

".. What're you doing out here?" The low voice of your mentor asked. Finnick Odair. Capitol sweetheart. Everyone everywhere loved him, and he managed to guide you to victory. The two of you were.. Acquaintances before you ended up getting reaped, family friends if you will. "It's four in the morning, and we gotta get up unfortunately early for District Ten." He sat down beside you, patting your head sympathetically.

".. Can't sleep." You rolled over onto your back, head nudging his thigh as you looked up at him. "What're you doing up?"

"I fell asleep a little earlier than intended.. So I kinda screwed up my sleep schedule a bit." Finnick said with a small laugh, looking down at you. "I can see it in your eyes. Something else is up. Talk to me."

You bit your lip. ".. Just a little homesick, is all. I haven't spent the holidays away from my family before.. and technically, I won't see them until next year, so.."

Finnick nodded in understanding. "I get that. It's.. It's hard.." He was choosing his words carefully. You never knew who could be listening in. ".. Spending so much time away from your family. It was hard on me too, I definitely get it.."

".. How did you do it? Get through it all?" A question disguised as another. "How did you move on from the Games? How do you live your life after it's been flipped upside down? How do you move on when the old you is gone? How? How? How?"

"Well.." He ran his fingers through your hair. "I try and focus on the positives. They're hard to find, but they're there. I got to see the world, meet new people, eat a lot of different kinds of food.. Fish gets boring after a while." You chuckled. How did he always have such a way with words? "But the biggest thing I kept in mind was that I was safe, and I'd never have to go through anything like the Games ever again. I had my happily ever after."

You nodded, moving your head to rest on his lap. Finnick was the human equivalent of a space heater, always warm and ready to warm others. It was nice. ".. Thank you."

He smiled. "Don't thank me. Just get some rest, yeah? Got a big day tomorrow, and I need my victor well rested."

“I nearly forgot about that..” You yawned. “Mkay.. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” Your eyes flickered shut, and you found yourself lulled to sleep by his fingers gently carding through your hair, keeping you safe for the night.

#the hunger games #thg #thg fic #fanfiction #finnick odair #finnick x reader #finnick x you #thg finnick #pre canon #pre slash #hurt/comfort #ao3 writer #ao3 #12 days of fluffmas #fluffmas 2023

[vgtrackbracket]

what's up guess who's not dead

Thank you everyone for your patience! You can find a playlist of the accepted submissions here. In total, there are 1082. (Some of them are missing from the playlist but I don't know. which ones 😭 If you can't find one of your submissions please let me know, & otherwise I'll try to catch the missing ones when I'm adding videos to polls.)

Couple notes:

The video linked by the submitter for the Prelude theme from Final Fantasy is from an orchestral performance, not the games, so I'm using a different video for it. I just went for the one from the Final Fantasy soundtrack, but if the submitter would prefer a different instance of the theme, please let me know!

Break: Primrose, the Dancer from Octopath Traveler is a piano arrangement that doesn't seem to appear in-game, so it wasn't accepted (but Primrose, the Dancer was also submitted and was accepted).

The rest of the submissions I didn't accept were all pre-existing tracks or covers/remixes of them: Termination Shock from Just Shapes & Beats, Isolated from Vampire: The Masquerade - Bloodlines, Get It Together from Little Big Planet, Nuclear from Metal Gear Solid V: The Phantom Pain, Focus from Super Hexagon, Sans Toi from Helix Waltz, Moon River (∞ Climax Mix) from Bayonetta 2, and Title3, Title1/Flip-Flap, & THUNDERDOME (Sector11) from Space Station 13.

There were a couple more that I wasn't going to accept, specifically video game tracks remixed in other games (as in, from unrelated series), but then I remembered Most of the submitted tracks from Super Smash Bros and kind of threw my hands up. So I'm bending my rules to allow those for consistency's sake. To be honest, if I ever do a season 2 of this, I'd probably just do away with the 'no pre-existing tracks' rule entirely but that would obviously be a while from now so. Focusing on getting through season 1 for now!

That should be everything, so I'll go and post the housekeeping poll about preliminaries. Thank you again everyone for waiting!

#not a poll #thank you btw to the person/people who reached out asking if i was ok #i am and have been i've just also been a little busy and a lot. inefficient #my eternal curse to bear unfortunately

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Meet the Hylian Knights who protect Zora's Domain!

I'm here to shove OCs down y'all's throats >:D

So in canon Link goes to Zora's Domain for the first time at the ripe old age of four freaking years old, just why Nintendo becuase now I have to write a four-year-old's POV and it's hard. Anyway, point is, there's no way he's a knight, obviously, even if the game's like "ooooo he beats adults at the raw age of four he's so amazing" SURE NINTENDO. SURE. Prodigies are a thing, I ain't denying it, but it's far more likely that Link, being a prodigy, is competent with a sword at age four and therefore is woefully underestimated by the adults around him rather than just outright beating them at their best, and--

Oops I'm getting off track. Point is, Link ain't a knight on this mission. So who are the knights in Chronicles of the Domain?

Well I'm so glad you asked! :D Because I wrote bios about them and am gonna share whether people care or not XD

Of course, we have the wonderful Abel, who I love to torture. He brought his son Link along on the mission due to extenuating circumstances - Tilieth, his wife, is currently a little preoccupied dying of illness that's ravaging Hateno. To both protect his son and give his in-laws a chance to just focus on helping Tilieth heal, and to ensure he still fulfilles his duty and provides for his family, Abel brought Link along on his mission. Abel is totally not stressed about any of this! :D Link is very much the spitting image of his father when he's older, so Abel has dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, a young, clean-shaven face, and a bit of a tan with sun spots from being outside so much. He's also a little shorter than the average Hylian man.

Next, we have Min. Originally a sell sword, Min joined the military for more stable work. He's really freaking good at fighting, which won him a position on the team, but there’s some friction between him and his teammates due to his past work. Duty isn’t really that big of a deal to him so much as his own personal life and sanity. Sometimes this makes him laxer than he should be, and sometimes it makes him the reasonable one of the group. Redhead, freckles, light skin, average build, part of his left ear is missing from a fight prior to his military days.

Then there's Ekan, who, like Abel, both comes from Castle Town and from a lineage of knights. While Abel became a knight because it was just the thing to do and he believed in doing his duty, Ekan became a knight because it was expected and forced, but he is fairly resigned to it at this point. Loves art and music and much prefers it to fighting, and is also very diplomatic – this was the main reason he was chosen for the job. But to Abel, he is a weak link, undisciplined in the sword and a liability as a result. He’s kind natured, though a bit dramatic, but knows how to navigate any conversation. Dark brown skin, cornrows hairstyle kept short, and the brightest smile.

The youngest knight on the team is Norri, who is also Abel and Link's roommate. Norri, like Abel, is very duty oriented, but is younger and more interested in climbing the ranks, which can make him a little competitive. He can be very opinionated, but will very much keep his thoughts to himself due to all the politics involved in trying to become an officer. Is originally from Tabantha Village and wants to make a name for himself, since he feels like he comes from the middle of nowhere and therefore has no clout to help him. Chocolate colored skin, short buzz cut black hair.

Finally, there's the captain of the team, Tomall. A seasoned knight from Mabe Village, Tomall has seen his fair share of diplomatic missions and finds them a bit tedious. But he's also had to fight Zora in skirmishes, and so he knows their tactics. He isn't necessarily biased against them, but he's certainly wary. Runs a tight operation, but still tries to look out for his men. Does not tolerate disobedience. Tan skin, small eyes, muscular build, short straight black hair that always ends up looking spiky when he takes his helmet off. Has a speckling of grey in his hair too.

#chronicles of the domain #abel #breath of the wild #I'm coming up with a political history for the zora and hylians too #though not particularly detailed as the story isn't supposed to be like game of thrones lol #but it's nice to have context for the mission #anyway I just am thinking about them so wanted to share

[swimmingismywholelife]

Joy

Summary: João decides to take you around the city of your dreams during the most wonderful time of the year.

Warnings: fluff

WC: 1.3K

A/N: 🎶On the sixth day of Ficmas my writer gave to me, a João fic that's really fluffy 🎶 I apologize for the lack of posts! Life got in the way and I'm trying my best to keep up with the schedule. I promise I'll still give you guys 12 different fics for 12 different people by the end of the year (and hopefully a few bonuses to make up for it!). Anyways, I've been in love with João these days and it's kind of a problem so yeah here's me being in love with him for however many words this ends up being!

Link for the Song: Joy

"I hope love spreads all over the world

I pray to the heavens

That this night can shine with the song of angels."

~~~

"Are you ready, amor?" you heard your boyfriend calling from down the stairs.

"Almost!" you shouted back, quickly putting your earrings in. "Give me a minute!"

You could feel João's eye roll as you looked over at yourself in the mirror for a final time. You wanted everything about this day to be perfect.

João had a busy schedule despite it being the holiday season. He had several games approaching including a friendly in America a few days before Christmas. Even still, he always made time for you. This was your first Christmas together and he wanted to do something special. You told him you didn't need anything fancy and that just his company was more than enough. João refused, claiming it wasn't good enough

"Que linda," João said breathlessly as you walked down the stairs. "Come here, give me a spin!"

He took your hand gently and twirled you around, staring at you with admiration. He brought you in closer and lightly kissed you, making your heart skip a beat.

"I'm not even dressed in anything special," you whispered against his lips. "It's too cold to be fashionable."

"You're beautiful in anything you wear," he replied, kissing you again.

You playfully pushed him away, attempting to hide your blushing cheeks.

"Are you excited?" he asked.

"Mhm," you said. "It's been my dream since I was a kid to see Barcelona during this time of year."

"Then the adventure awaits you, princesa," João said, kissing the back of your hand. "Our ride is here to take you on the best date of your life."

"To the city!" you grinned excitedly.

Ever since you'd seen a picture of the Catalonian city as a kid in one of your mother's photobooks, you knew you had to be there one day. She lived there briefly for school, and she fondly told you stories about her experiences and how she fell in love with the city. After you finished school, you knew that you wanted those experiences for yourself. So you made your way to Barcelona, where it turned out to be better than you could've ever imagined.

But more than anything, you'd always wanted to spend Christmas in Barcelona. Your mother always described it as one of the most magical places she'd ever been to. The people were kind and friendly, the food was always amazing, the music was lively, and the lights were out of this world. You just knew you had to be a part of that.

It was João's idea to visit the markets for your date. Since you didn't want anything fancy and he wanted to do something special for you, it was a happy medium that you gratefully accepted.

You gasped as your taxi drove closer to La Sagrada Família, your face moving towards the window to get a better look. To say the sight was enchanting would be an understatement. It wasn't that dark out yet, but even still your breath was taken away. Garlands and wreaths filled the streets of Barcelona, greens, golds, and reds decorating almost every part of the city. Everything was covered in a light dusting of snow, making it look like a scene straight out of a movie.

"Esto es Barcelona," the taxi driver said, noticing your awestruck face. "Es la mejor ciudad del mundo."

(This is Barcelona. It's the best city in the world.)

"Sí," you agreed. "Es como un sueño."

(Yes, it's like a dream.)

João stared at you fondly. You were generally a bubbly person, but seeing the twinkle in your eyes as you took in everything made his heart stop. He'd never seen you so happy and it made him fall in love with you even more.

The taxi arrived just outside the markets. You made a move to open your door before João whacked your hands away.

"No!" he said. "That's my responsibility!"

You giggled as he quickly ran out the car to open your door like a gentleman. Even though you knew he was being dramatic, he still managed to make you blush anyway.

"Bienvenida a Barcelona, princesa," he said, sticking his hand out for you to take. "Espero que tengas la aventura de tu vida."

(Welcome to Barcelona, Princess. I hope you have the adventure of a lifetime.)

You took his hand and humored him.

"Thank you my love," you said as he kissed the back of your hand.

"¡Muchas gracias, Señor!" you said, peeking your head back into the taxi.

"De nada," he replied. "Disfruta de la ciudad."

(You're welcome. Enjoy the city.)

"Es increíble," you said, your attention now fully on the city in front of you. "It's better than any of the pictures in my mother's photobook or any of the stories she told."

"What should we do first?" João asked, also amazed at the hustle and bustle of the market. "You pick."

Your stomach made a loud noise, making the both of you laugh. "I guess eating would be a good idea."

You made your way to the different food stands, squealing softly at the sight around you. The sun was now beginning to set, meaning the lights around you slowly started to grow brighter. Each stand was decorated in its own unique way, giving them a distinctive and beautiful feel. Barcelona's culture and heritage was really shining through as people from all around you walked from stand to stand.

João couldn't have been more in love. He'd been fortunate enough to live out his dreams, playing for a team he'd wanted to be a part of since his childhood. And he was even more fortunate that he got to meet his dream girl at the same time. And seeing you so happy made his heart swell. He knew that he had to keep the smile that was permanently etched onto your face every day for the rest of your lives.

"Muchas gracias," you said to the street vendor as they handed you food. You happily munched on your different, taking in the scenery around.

"Is this everything you've dreamed about?" João asked.

"Es mejor que mis sueños," you answered, your cheeks puffing with food.

(It's better than my dreams.)

He couldn't help himself, leaning over to quickly kiss your cheek.

"What?" you said.

"You're just cute," he said, "and I love you."

"I love you too," you said.

You stopped by as many of the shops as you could, stuffing your faces with both local and foreign cuisines alike, while also buying trinkets to remember your trip. You were so warm with excitement that you couldn't feel how much your feet hurt from walking or how cold the air was. It was a world that had only been a part of your imagination for as long as you could remember, but it didn't compare to the real deal at all. And being with João only made things even better.

João checked his watch. "Baby, let's go find a place to watch the light show."

"Sounds good to me!" you said, throwing out your trash. "I wanna be able to see everything!"

The light show was probably what you were most excited to see. The sun had completely disappeared, the twinkling of the Christmas lights illuminating the streets. The cathedral had a special Christmas show planned and you couldn't wait to see what they had in store.

"Thank you for taking me here," you said to João softly as you sat in the perfect spot. You leaned your head onto his shoulder, his arms wrapping around you. "I really appreciate it."

He kissed the top of your head, pulling you in closer. "Any time, princesa. Was it everything you wanted it to be?"

"It was even better because I have you," you answered shyly. "I was already in love with the city, but being here with you makes it even more special. I'm here in the city of my dreams with the love of my life. There's nothing more special than this."

João hummed in agreement. "And you deserve it all. Thank you for letting me be a part of this."

"I love you, João."

"And I love you, Y/N."

Nothing more needed to be said. And underneath the moonlight and the sparkling lights of La Sagrada Família in the company of each other, you truly felt the magic of Christmas.

Taglist: @shadowscorch @nyctophilic0vitnir @thoseboysinblue @neverinadream @notsoattractivearenti @lovelynikol16 @chilwellspulisic @pulisicsgirl @lizzypotter14

#joao felix #joao felix imagine #joao felix fic #joao felix one shot #joao felix au #footballer imagine #footballer fic #footballer au #footballer one shot #swimmingismywholelife

[rawliverandgoronspice]

Small Tears of the Kingdom changes that could have done a lot

(at least according to me, the one singular flawed person writing this post)

In my desperate attempt to close off the Tears of the Kingdom season on my side of the internet (failing so far), I wanted to join the proposals of a couple of small restructurations/rewrites I've seen on my dashboard. These wouldn't change much of the game, but enough to boisten some of the themes and make the experience both more open and more streamlined. They try to ignore a lot of my own biases towards what I would have loved to see explored within the game and focus on what already exists (I said try). These changes are not only story-driven but also focus on quest design and narrative reward logic, which puzzled me even more than the story itself.

It's obviously not the end all be all of everything, there's a ton of small things that aren't fully adressed, etc.

Here are the 3 main tenants of this proposal:

We know about Fake Zelda by the end of the tutorial section. We see glimpses of her all the way, even though Rauru doesn't seem to be aware she's here, and most of our obstacles come from us trying to reach and save her. Then, by the end, she tries to kill us in the Temple of Time, and we realize she's fake and a lure (it could be a small mini boss, nothing too severe; just something to prove we understand combat). It could also be an earlier occasion to have Ganondorf shit-talk us using his creepy voice through her body, that could build up a better sense of rivalry going forward and make the betrayal of him using her body sting much more than it does in the current version.

Ganondorf, using Fake Zelda, tries to antagonizes each region of Hyrule towards their princess --and, the very important part, it works. The kingdom is splintering apart as he plans his return and his invasion. The goal in each region is not to vaguely solve the weird local problem, but, using the regional hero that knows and trusts Link, to prove that whatever is happening isn't Zelda's fault. This allows to build some sense of tension and stakes, makes us deeply empathize with an overwhelmed Zelda trying to step up as a leader in the aftermath of the Calamity and isn't here to defend herself (and then when we learn where she is and what she did it hurts so much more). The camp where Purah is could also double-down as the beating heart of Hyrule trying to reconnect with the suspicious regions suffering the turmoil isolated from each other.

The Dragon's Tears questline is overhauled, and that can happen in two simultaneous ways. Some of these memories remain Zelda's, but now only some of them, perhaps those who are connected to Zelda's decision to become a dragon without ever spilling it out (and could even focus more on her insecurities as a young ruler and her relationship to her ancestors), remain sprinkled into the land to reward those who want to understand more about her motivations. But now, each of the secret stones collected along the way also function as tears, and instead of being treated to another delicious serving or The Imprisoning War? The Demon King??? we get to discover a little bit more of the mystery. The way it could work is quite simple: the Sage introduces us briefly to their own perspective into the war outside of a voiced cutscene to give the writing more flexibility regarding what the player already did to avoid repetition ( :) :) ), and then plays a pre-determined cutscene in a linear fashion, which is one of Rauru's memories embedded within the secret stone and tells the story of the fall of his kingdom to Ganondorf. (also bonus: now Zelda's tears don't embody the entire kingdom anymore, which was very strange and never sat right with me)

So what we did is to separate the different stories while intertwining them: Zelda's struggles and sacrifice on one hand, Rauru's regrets and bitterness on the other (lololol sorry), and Ganondorf's attempt to break the kingdom apart --which would feed into both Zelda's anxieties and Rauru's long winded defeat. The bonus to this approach would also be to question Hyrule's legitimacy: the various races would then need to decide, after having actively questioned the young princess, that they actually still believe in Hyrule and a future they all get to live in together.

This would also give a little bit more teeth to Ganondorf's motivation, his deep envy for the power of Hyrule and the fact that his own people chose it over him, let alone everyone else. As for the Link's motivation, trying to have everyone see that Zelda is worth it and stop that evil force from shattering her image while also acknowledging the faults of the past could make the player invested in wanting to bring Zelda back down after everything she went through and all the sacrifices she made to prove herself a worthy ruler (Rauru's forcefulness in assimilating the realm under his banner even though he meant well being his actual character flaw that Mineru could eventually acknowledge, to give her something to do instead of... feeling bad for no clear reason!! Also just *give emotional weight* to that time she holds Rauru's hand again when she swears fealty to Link, this was so simple and obvious how was it not given the time it needed for us to care about what was lost!!! aaa)

Yes, it's still about the power of love and sacrifice over ruthless domination, but now characters have a little bit more agency and we feel a little less like they have a zonai knife under their throats the entire time forcing them to always be happy and enthusiastic about swearing fealty to the immortal kingdom. They find out about the past but get to redefine their future instead of falling over themselves in worship; literally using pieces and bits of the past in the form of zonai tech to rebuild their own kingdom and their future dreams. Together they are stronger; but because they all chose to believe in that mantra instead of having it being imposed by long dead kings and faceless ancestors expecting them to die for a war that shouldn't concern them.

(Also, obviously, the gerudo region has to reckon with the Demon King being particularly angry at them for betraying him, and them deciding to reject his rule a second time and embrace their own path, because in the original TotK Ganondorf being gerudo could be removed entirely without any consequence, which is pretty sad since it's basically an enormous part of what makes him compelling as a villain for a lot of people and keeps him from being a completely generic Nintendo stock villain!!)

And honestly? Beyond a couple of dialogue changes and slightly different setups and reasonings for Link to do certain things, especially in the various regional quests? Most of everything else could stay roughly the same. The bones are here! They're just arranged in a really weird way.

(except for Ganondorf surviving as a big bad dragon in the end through the sacrifice of his mind to immortality because that's just much more interesting than turning him into a supernova --but that's really a bonus honestly)

#totk #totk spoilers #tears of the kingdom #thoughts #zelda #rauru #ganondorf #because we can access information from different angles doesn't mean we should access it whenever imo #not if it fucks up the pacing and our understanding of plot characters and story #also to pace the story from between challenges instead of shoving it all down in your mouth if you do all the memories at once #is just better user experience imo #especially for a zelda game that attempts to pace itself like a legend #so trial and tribulation -> new development #not new development because you tried to paraglide into a pond missed but like you have 1 heart left but you ate 28 apples ok let's go #and then you do that 10 more times in a row #anyway!!! #just thoughts

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

So I got curious about Thomas’ little claim and decided to research his little take on MLB being more popular than Pokémon.

Pokémon is by leaps and bounds the biggest media franchise worldwide, with not even the MCU beating it.

Miraculous?

Doesn’t even make the top 50.

(The post these users are referring to)

(In addition, here are the links provided from the second ask:)

https://licensing.biz/paw-patrol-tops-netflixs-most-popular-kids-shows-and-movies/

https://www.bollyinside.com/articles/most-popular-kids-shows/

https://kidscreen.com/2019/11/28/infographic-what-are-the-most-in-demand-shows-globally/

I think the problem I have with Astruc's claim is just how vague it is. We have no idea of how these surveys even worked, or if they even took into account stuff like kids knowing more about the Pokemon games than the anime, the fact that the last season of the Pokemon anime was Netflix-exclusive, while Miraculous Ladybug airs on TV and on streaming services, the age range of the kids surveyed, the region each kid lives in, what channels kids watch their shows on, what kind of streaming services their households have (remember, the last two seasons of Miraculous Ladybug have been on Disney+ while Pokemon is on Netflix), and just how many kids said they knew Miraculous Ladybug more than Pokemon.

For all we know, only half a dozen kids polled could have said they know more about Miraculous Ladybug than they do Pokemon, where the survey itself involved only twenty kids, yet Astruc thinks that means kids all around the world are more familiar with his work than they are with Pokemon.

#immaturity of thomas astruc #iota #thomas astruc #thomas astruc salt

[rainybubbles]

How do you meet Haikyuu boys ? part I

part 1- Akaashi, Bokuto, Kenma, Osamu

A K A A S H I :

-You did ASMR on social medias. The "your s/o talks to you after a long day" type.

-You were pretty popular du to the well-written scenarios but also your voice who was so calming.

-Akaashi was one of your fan.

-At first he didn't want to listen to ASMR, believing it was too triggering for his ears.

-But Osamu gave him the advice to try when Akaashi told him about his sleeping problem.

Telling him that ASMR really help.

-And it did.

-Initially, he listened to some classics ASMR satisfying things and slowly he found out the niche of boyfriends, girlfriends ASMR.

You were one of his favorite.

So when his boss presented him the assistant with you he will worked with and he recognized your voice...

He acted professionally.

But when he came back home, his thought was '"a pretty voice with a handsome face."

O S A M U :

-Atsumu drunk singing "IT'S RAINING MEN."

-That's how you met.

-You were one of the MSBY coach.

-And you celebrated with all the team the last victory of the season.

-The problem was an owl, a fox and the sun making a bet of who could handle the most drinks.

-While Bokuto called Akaashi, Hinata Kageyama, it let you with Atsumu.

-You looked up at Sakusa who clearly let a "No to you."stare.

-You sighed and took him at his address that he gave you.

-You tried to handle him, but he shouted he wanted to dance.

-You pushed him on the corridors, but he started singing.

-Desperate you knocked at his door and...

-"Is he...Twerking?", Osamu asked.

-"He did that all along on some Beethoven music and now on Raining men."

-"...we're not linked by blood you know."

-"You're twins."

-"..."

-"I mean you literally have the same cells and-"

-"Let's forget that."

-"O/N" You presented yourself while you pushed Atsumu on the couch.

-"Osamu."

-"I wanna see some ass shakin'," Atsumu mumbled as he tried to present himself too

-"And he's an idiot." Osamu sighed.

-You laughed.

-It was definitely a weird first meeting.

B O K U T O :

-After Bokuto had a food poisoning because of the amount of meat he ate, the coach decided to give him a nutritionist dedicated to him.

-And here you are.

-After explaining him how the balance of food could improve his performance, he listened to you -religiously.

-At the point where he called you before eat everything.

-Even water.

-...

-So yes your first meeting was him explaining how the meat could save the world, and you explaining how it doesn't.

-Even though he's be certain that a steak could beat aliens.

-...yes, he had a theory.

-Yes, it took two hours to listen to it.

-Yes at the end you really doubted of the power of steak.

K E N M A :

-Kenma was blocked.

-And not on Instagram on in a game, but IRL.

-He had a blocked back.

-After playing games for hours in an uncomfortable position, he didn't think his back would block.

-Yes it hurt a little but it was not that much pain.

-And now he couldn't move.

-He shouted Alexa to call Kuroo but this bitch didn't answer.

-He sighed and called the emergency even though his anxiety reached a high level.

-When he heard the knock, he felt relieved but also ashamed someone will see him in this state.

-He heard your step.

-Hopefully, he forgot locking his door.

-When he saw you, you smiled.

-"You look like a cat stretching. Where did it hurt?"

-He told you avoiding your eyes.

-When you started manipulating his back, he hissed and then...

-Then it was heaven.

-His back was suddenly relieved.

-Your hands were magic.

-"You must buy some adapted chair if you sit all day in or do some exercises and see a -physiotherapist." you advised him

-"Are you...A physio?"

-"Want to see me again this fast?" you joked.

-Maybe.

-Maybe it was just to feel again these magic hands on his back.

-But he wouldn't tell you.

-But Kuroo was amused to see him searching your name to take an appointment, totally forgetting your first meeting.

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x reader #x reader #bokuto x reader #akaashi x reader #osamu x reader #kenma x reader #haikyuu time skip

[spideystevie]

strike-outs

summary: rust colored dirt, old jerseys & game winning strike-outs

word count: 2.3k

a/n: this has been brewing in the depths of my drafts for a hot minute. college!au because i said so. this is my take on baseball!steve who lives and breathes in my head constantly and if you don’t agree then cry about it. just kidding. 

MARCH 1987 - GRAND RAPIDS, MI.

It’s an unusually warm day for Michigan in March. The sky’s a vibrant blue with picturesque cottony clouds scattered across. Sun rays warm your cheeks, a welcoming kiss after last week’s frigid cold. You roll up the sleeves of your university crewnecks to feel the sun on your arms. 

Music flows through the orange padding of your headphones, walkman clipped to the waist of your jeans. You walk past the baseball field, eyes focusing in on the lone figure standing on the pitcher’s mound. It’d be almost embarrassing to admit that you recognize it to be Steve Harrington almost immediately. 

Your feet stall, rooting you in place near the third base dugout as you watch him wind up and throw. The ball hits the ground and ricochets against the fence behind home plate. There’s a ringing of metal as the chain link fence reverberates. The ball rolls back towards home plate, stopping just a foot away from a worn pair of cleats, covered in a rust colored dust. 

Davenport might not have been Steve’s first choice but it was the one that put the most distance between him and his father and that was good enough for him. It was also the only school that took a chance on a small town kid with shit grades so Steve really couldn’t complain. 

Steve bends to pick the ball up and when he turns to walk back to the mound, he notices you. Your eyes meet just as Let’s Hear It For The Boy starts to play. A heat not induced by the sun creeps across your cheeks. It only worsens when a charming grin lifts his cheeks. 

The two of you stare for a beat too long before someone breaks the silence. 

“Hey,” he calls, walking towards the fence that separates the two of you. You step closer, pulling your headphones to rest around your neck. Steve catches a few notes of the song before you pause it. The toes of his cleats bump the bottom of the fence, the metal shaking briefly. 

Steve pulls his glove off, shoving the ball inside and tucking it under his left arm. His fingers curl around the holes in the fence. You take a step forward, one more and you’d hit the fence too. His smile softens around the edges this close up. 

“Hey,” he exhales. His gaze makes you feel warmer than the sun. Your smile is the slightest bit reserved, tucked away just slightly towards your chest. 

“Hi,” you say, crossing your arms across your chest. You wonder if you hold yourself tight enough if it’ll suffocate the butterflies swarming your heart. 

Things with Steve are new and covered in the sweetness of the early days. Everything is fresh and new, like a springtime blossom. The shock that sparks both your nerves when you’re around each other is not. 

You’d been partnered for a project together in sociology in the fall and when the semester ended, you didn’t think you’d see him again aside from passing occasionally on your commutes to class. 

And then you walked into your history course this spring and thought you were hallucinating when you spotted him. You thought you’d collapse when he waved you over to sit in the empty seat next to him. You nearly did when he asked you out a week later. 

It’d been a couple months of dating exclusively, not even a week since he asked you to be his. And yet, he still hadn’t kissed you. It’s not that he hasn’t tried, it’s that every time his lips brush against yours something has to interrupt the moment. Steve’s determined to change that today.

“Thought you didn’t have practice today,” you muse, blinking at Steve through the fence. 

“Coach wants to try me out as pitcher this season. Thought I’d start practicing now,” he shrugs and lets go of the fence, dropping his shoulder to lean against it. The fence bulges towards you. The sunlight catches on a curl of hair sneaking out of his hat. You have to grip your arm to resist reaching out to tuck it behind his ear. 

“Look at you, all star,” you tease. Steve’s cheeks flush a soft shade of pink, hardly discernible in the shade that covers his face from the brim of his hat. You shuffle forward until the toes of your converse bump the fence separating you. “You ever pitched before?”

“Little league,” he laughs. The way it bubbles out of him makes you giggle along, the shoulder opposite to his leaning against the fence. He shakes his head. “Once or twice in high school, too.”

You hum, smile still present but eyes rounding into something more serious. “You’ll do great.”

It’s a reassuring hug around Steve’s heart, one that constricts itself around the muscle until it skips a beat. He softens like butter in the sun and he lifts a hand to clutch the fence near your head.

There’s a tenderness in the way he looks at you, in the way his fingers try their best to wrap around yours when you lift your own hand to clutch the fence. You don’t think about all the logistics behind kissing between a hole in a chain link fence, the only things running through your head being finally and a mantra of SteveSteveSteve. 

Your chin juts out, tilted up for him to reach and Steve wishes he were on the other side of the fence so he could hold your face in the palm of his hand. He gets a hair's width away from your lips when the sprinkler system kicks on making you jolt back. He really wishes he were on the other side of the fence now.  

You try not to look too disappointed as you step back from the fence, though you’re sure you’re not alone in your emotions. Steve looks almost apologetic, his smile sheepish. 

“I’ll catch you later?” he offers, stepping back from the fence himself. You nod, reaching up to pull your headphones back over your ears. 

“You better, Harrington,” you say, clicking play again on your walkman as you turn on your heel and leave back to your dorm. Steve’s eyes follow you until you disappear from view. 

APRIL 1987 - HOME.

The glimpse of warmth you’d felt in March seems to have vanished into a haze. The weather had backpedaled to an early spring cold. If you focused hard enough, you could see wisps of your breath in front of your face when you’d exhale. First home game. Steve’s first game this season as a pitcher. 

The cold metal of the bleachers seeps through the denim of your jeans, your knee bouncing anxiously. It’d been a little over a week since your last almost kiss with Steve. With the flurry of late midterms and the opening of baseball season, you hadn’t seen much of Steve outside of your shared morning history class. 

He made sure he caught you yesterday. He waited outside the door of your Thursday literature class, already dressed for practice and cutting it close to being late, all just to ask you if you wanted to wear his jersey to the first game of the season. It was worth it when he saw your eyes light up, hands clutching the old jersey to your chest. He’d kissed your cheek before running off. 

Sitting in the stands, wearing his last name on your back, you think you can still feel the lingering warmth of his lips against your cheek while you watch him warm up. The slight wind is icy, biting at your nose and leaving it with a burning numbness. You tug the sleeves of your thick long sleeve you’d layered beneath the jersey over your fists. 

It’s easy to forget about the near frigid cold when you watch Steve play. It doesn’t hurt that his uniform pants hug him in the best way as he winds up his pitches and runs the bases. You’re not sure how much prouder you can get of Steve, watching him throw strike after strike. 

Your team sits at a tie with the visiting team as the ninth inning rolls around. With two outs and bases loaded, the nerves start to eat at you and you can’t begin to imagine the pressure on Steve. You clasp your hands in front of you, thumbs pressed to your lips. 

Steve closes his eyes and takes a breath before starting his wind up. He hauls a pitch down the line, exhales when it sinks into the catcher’s mitt and the umpire calls it a strike. He steps forward, glove extended to catch the ball when the catcher tosses it back. 

You squeeze your hands together, whispering encouragement under your breath as though he can hear it from your spot in the stands. He winds up and throws, sinking another strike in the catcher’s mitt. You exhale, watching Steve shake out his shoulders as he walks back towards the mound. 

“One more, baby, one more,” you mutter under your breath, not caring if the people sitting around you can hear you. Steve pauses at the top and looks towards the stands to find you. When your eyes meet you nod, releasing your clasped hands momentarily to give him a thumbs up. He bites back a smile, dipping his head down towards the ground as he gets ready to pitch. 

You feel like everything moves in slow motion the moment he starts his wind up. The ball leaves his fingertips and seems to float down the line. This time, the batter swings and you watch with bated breath as it swings just above the ball and misses it completely. Everything syncs back to normal with the final smack of the ball meeting the glove and the umpire calling the final strike. 

Steve’s shoulders visibly droop in relief, his teammates clapping him on the back and cheering as they head towards the dugout to prep for their final turn at bat. His eyes find you, standing in the stands with a grin on your face before he’s ushered into the dugout. 

It’s Steve who bats first at the bottom of the ninth, blowing a kiss to you before stepping up to bat. He swings at the first pitch, a satisfying crack sounding when his bat makes contact with the ball, sending it out into far left field. He slides safe into second, bouncing up onto his feet with a smile. 

Steve steals third after the first out, daring a glance at you in the stands to send a smile your way and crosses home plate with a grin, securing the first home game win of the season. He can’t even seem to care about the rest of the inning, his main thought being you standing in the crowd wearing his jersey and the proudest smile he’d ever seen. 

You wait outside the dugout when the game ends, a giddiness coursing through you. As the team starts to file off the field, you stretch on your toes to find Steve. He comes out last and his eyes immediately find you. He barely has time to drop his bag to the ground before you’re hurling yourself at him. 

His arms catch you around your waist while yours wrap around his neck. You press your nose against his neck, only minutely aware of how sweaty he is despite the chill in the air. 

“You were amazing out there, all star,” you grin as you settle onto your feet. Your hands rest against the front of his jersey but his hold around your waist stays tight. Steve’s smile is blinding. 

“You think so?” his voice is teasing and you roll your eyes but the smile hasn’t left your face. You push against his chest playfully and a laugh bubbles out of Steve.

“I’m proud of you,” you say, sincerity dripping off each word. Something inside Steve’s chest melts down into a thick honey, warming him from the inside out. He doesn’t even think twice before he’s cupping your face in his hands and slotting his lips against yours. 

Your eyes close with a muffled sigh, hands sliding up to rest against the sides of Steve’s neck. Your mind is racing with thoughts of  finally and SteveSteveSteve. He kisses you soft and tender, like he has all the time in the world. For once there’s no sprinklers, no pesky roommates or annoying teammates. There’s nothing else except the small bubble surrounding the two of you in the frigid cold of early spring. 

Steve pulls back for a breath and his lips part to say something. You don’t let him get the chance. 

“Shh, one more, I’ve been waiting to do this for weeks,” you pull him back into you, lips molding with his like they were carved from the same stone, missing puzzle pieces fitting back into place. His hands fall to your waist and pull you closer against him. You kiss him with a fervor until it’s more smile than kiss and you have to pull back. 

Your cheeks hurt from smiling. A slight gust of wind pushes past but you can’t feel the cold, not after the searing heat that’s covered your skin from the minute his lips touched yours. Steve kisses you once more, sweet and chaste before squeezing your waist and stepping away to grab his bag. 

“Celebratory dinner?” he offers, slinging his baseball bag over his shoulder and wrapping his free arm around your shoulders. He pulls his hat off his head and runs a hand through his hair as you walk. 

“Maybe after you shower, you’re all gross,” you scrunch your nose at him, mirth twinkles in your eyes. Steve shakes his head and shoves his hat onto yours. You grin, leaning into him as he squeezes your shoulders.

He wonders if it’s too early to be thinking he might be in love with you. 

#interrupting my momentary writing hiatus bc of finals season to bring you baseball!steve #the amount of research i did on the weather during 1987 in grand rapids specifically...astonishing. #baseball!steve plagues my mind daily and i needed to share my take with all of you #spending nearly all of your adolescent years on baseball fields supporting your younger brother will do that to ya #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagine #baseball!steve harrington #baseball!steve x reader #baseball!steve au #college!steve au #📝: a writes!