#Nancy Nigh

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

I'm mentally manifesting that they recreate one of these photos. Which bts photo from season one do you think they should recreate?

[turtlesandfrogs]

Started the day by reading this article from the NY times, and I'm frankly, disturbed.

Some highlights:

"For decades, farmers across America have been encouraged by the federal government to spread municipal sewage on millions of acres of farmland as fertilizer. It was rich in nutrients, and it helped keep the sludge out of landfills."

Which I knew, and I knew that there were concerns about contaminants from like, the medications people were on. But human waste is part of the nutrient cycle, and it always made sense to me that it should be throughly composted and returned to agricultural lands, and I assumed that people in general were taking the steps necessary to make it safe.

But here's what I didn't know:

"The 1972 Clean Water Act had required industrial plants to start sending their wastewater to treatment plants instead of releasing it into rivers and streams, which was a win for the environment but also produced vast new quantities of sludge that had to go somewhere."

Which, yay, no longer polluting bodies of water, but now that means we're applying industrial waste water to agricultural lands. And have been since 1972. Which leads to this situation, among many others, I'm sure:

"The sludge that allegedly contaminated the Colemans’ farm came from the City of Fort Worth water district, which treats sewage from more than 1.2 million people, city records show. Its facility also accepts effluent from industries including aerospace, defense, oil and gas, and auto manufacturing. Synagro takes the sludge and treats it (though not for PFAS, as it’s not required by law) then distributes it as fertilizer."

So here's what some states are doing:

"In Michigan, among the first states to investigate the chemicals in sludge fertilizer, officials shut down one farm where tests found particularly high concentrations in the soil and in cattle that grazed on the land. This year, the state prohibited the property from ever again being used for agriculture. Michigan hasn’t conducted widespread testing at other farms, partly out of concern for the economic effects on its agriculture industry.

In 2022, Maine banned the use of sewage sludge on agricultural fields. It was the first state to do so and is the only state to systematically test farms for the chemicals. Investigators have found contamination on at least 68 of the more than 100 farms checked so far, with some 1,000 sites still to be tested.

“Investigating PFAS is like opening Pandora’s box,” said Nancy McBrady, deputy commissioner of Maine’s Department of Agriculture."

This is fun:

"The E.P.A. is currently studying the risks posed by PFAS in sludge fertilizer (which the industry calls biosolids) to determine if new rules are necessary.

The agency continues to promote its use on cropland, though elsewhere it has started to take action. In April, it ordered utilities to slash PFAS levels in drinking water to near zero and designated two types of the chemical as hazardous substances that must be cleaned up by polluters. The agency now says there is no safe level of PFAS for humans...

It’s difficult to know how much fertilizer sludge is used nationwide, and E.P.A. data is incomplete. The fertilizer industry says more than 2 million dry tons were used on 4.6 million acres of farmland in 2018. And it estimates that farmers have obtained permits to use sewage sludge on nearly 70 million acres, or about a fifth of all U.S. agricultural land."

There's more, but I wanted to condense it at least a little bit. I am glad we're raising awareness, and I'm glad we're starting to regular the amount in our drinking water, and I hope that we'll find a way to actually deal with PFAS. I am so frustrated that people are exposed in the first place, and in nigh inescapable ways.

Also, to all those people who were like, oh, organic isn't at all healthier for consumers? Guess what the organic standards don't allow to be applied?

[queeniebee6]

Okay, but the idea that Steve and Eddie had started dating a few months before the events of Season 4, but it’s on a strictly need-to-know basis… and the only people who need to know are Steve and Eddie. 

“Harrington’s got her, don’t you big boy?”

Eddie leans in close, sensing the panic rising within Steve. He pulls away only slightly, a bemused look on his face as he thinks about that car poster hanging in Steve’s ugly ass room that he had teased him about the night he stuck through the window. 

“Henderson told me you were a badass”

“Oh yeah, and what did you say?” Steve smirked, enjoying their baseless feud for Dustin’s attention.

“I said no way, of course.” They both gave a breathy chuckle before Steve’s hand moved to Eddie’s lower back, masked by his desire to make sure the older man didn’t fall. “Still super jealous, though.” He leant in close, careful not to trip on any of the vines beneath him. Steve nudged him away, a fleeting ‘okay’ and a chuckle before he looked to Eddie properly. 

“Someone might see.”

“I’m wanted for murder and the world is about to end and that’s what you’re worried about.” It was with a big grin on Eddie’s face. 

Two weeks later, after the world didn’t end, Steve in sat beside Eddie’s hospital bed under the guise of doing the rounds between him and Max. It’s a fleeting moment when there aren’t any other party members in the room and their fingers are intertwined. 

“So, that stuff you said to Nancy in the van… about six little nuggets.” Steve grimaced as the words came out of Eddie’s mouth; crazy what stuff to let slip when the end of the world is nigh. “Did you mean it?” The look on Eddie’s face is love drunk, full of infatuation and tenderness, and Steve can’t help but tighten his grip on Steve’s hand. 

“I’m really glad you heard it.”

[shipperoffanonships]

CHAPTER 2- ROBIN

Robin couldn't breathe. The vines were continuously wrapping around her, pinning her limbs to the wall, choking her, squeezing her waist so hard she thought her ribs might crack and pierce her lung. From directly across her was Nancy, terror evident in her brown eyes. She was struggling, but her efforts were becoming weaker and weaker.

"Nance? Nance, it's OK." Robin choked out, both out of emotion and because of the tentacles that relentlessly coiled around her throat. "Eyes on me. On me."

"R...Robin," Nancy wheezed, "Robin, if we-if-"

Robin sat bolt upright, hand on her chest , her heart racing. She looked at the clock. 2:30.

"Shit." Swinging her legs off the bed, Robin made her way to the second-floor bathroom, still half-asleep. She turned on the tap and splashed her face with water to refresh herself. Looking up, she studied her face in the mirror. It had been hard, even until now. A full year has passed, yet Robin was still plagued by nightmares. Not a night passes that Robin's sleep was long and peaceful. Whenever she closes her eyes, she saw it. She saw him. Bald, disfigured, and definitely hell-bent on killing them. Oddly enough, the thought of therapy never appealed to her. She chose to endure it all. Probably a bit masochistic on her part, but Robin didn't mind. 

But they didn't know. They didn't know that behind the mask, behind the cheerfulness and positivity, was a woman about to snap. They didn't know that it took all of Robin's energy to get up in the morning, to put one foot in front of the other. They didn't know that sometimes, she just wanted to cry, to scream out her frustration, her grief. They wouldn't understand, anyway. Nor would they care. So she just smiled.

Sleep was just about to overtake Robin when someone knocked at her window. Blearily she went for the window to check.

"What- Nance?" Robin said, confused. She opened her window and Nancy rolled in, landing rather ungracefully to the floor with a pained grunt. Chuckling, Robin helped the other woman up.

"What brings you here? I mean, not that I don't want you here." Robin added quickly. 

"May I sit on your bed?" Nancy asked, and Robin shrugged. Nancy plopped down the mattress, putting her face in her hands. Robin joined her a moment later, the springs creaking. 

"So..." Robin said.

"Jonathan and I fought." Nancy said, voice muffled. Robin winced.

"Ouch. Why?" 

"Well, I've been having nightmares, and he kept insisting that it's all over. He may or may not also have called me a lunatic."

Robin practically growled. That insensitive son of a motherf-

" I guess I am a bit of a lunatic. I mean, he's right. It's all over." Nancy said after a few moments of silence. Robin whirled towards the brunette.

"Nance, you're not a lunatic. It might be over, but what that m*****f***er put us through all these years will forever leave scars. It's nigh impossible to recover from it. Shit, even I still get nightmares." Robin admitted. Nancy looked at her. 

"You do?"

Robin nodded. "It's always the same. The three of us on the wall, being slowly strangled to death." 

Nancy nodded silently, then yawned. "I should get going. I'll stay-"

"Here. And no; you're not imposing." Robin said as Nancy opened her mouth. Sighing, Nancy kicked off her shoes and went under the covers, Robin following suit. She was about to turn to her side when Nancy yanked her hand. 

"No, wanna cuddle..." Nancy said, already half-asleep. Shit, what do I do?  Robin thought, panicking. Shitshitshitshit- Although she will never admit it to the person of interest, she had developed a crush on Nancy, and the thought of holding her sent her heart racing a hundred miles a second. In the end she just obliged her friend, instinctively pulling her closer.

Nancy woke up with sunlight streaming though the windows. Taking a look around, she noticed that she wasn't in her or her and Jonathan's room. Then everything came back in a rush, and she groaned. She looked at the clock.

"Shit!" It was 10;15. She threw back the covers and, quickly washing her face and mouth, she sprinted downstairs. She heard sizzling, and she made her way towards the source. Sure enough Robin was cooking breakfast. She turned, smiling brightly.

"Morning, Nance! How many eggs? One or two? There's coffee if you want, just finished brewing."

"Good morning. And I'll have two, please. How do you take your coffee?" Nancy asked as she set the table (she owed the Buckley girl that much, Nancy supposed), but Robin waved a hand dismissively.

"Don't worry about me. I want it piping hot, anyway. Plate?" 

Once they were seated, Robin jumped at Nancy with a question.

"Nance, have you ever felt..."

Nancy looked up from her drink. "Hmm?" 

Robin shook her head. "Never mind. It's a stupid question, anyway."

"Hey," Nancy said gently as she took Robin's hand, "it's okay. What is it?"

Robin took a deep breath. "All right. Have you ever felt... out of place? Like you're surrounded with people, people who included you in their group, yet somehow you still like you don't belong?"

Nancy pursed her lips, thinking of what to say. "That's... hard to answer. I mean, all my life I've been included in a clique here and there. I've had many friends and acquaintances. But now, with everything that's happened, even before Vecna... yeah, kind of." 

Robin laughed mirthlessly. "Wow. Look at us. In our twenties and yet alone as hell." 

Nancy winked. "How about we do it together? Hmm?"

Robin grinned. "To being alone."

Nancy gave the blonde a soft smile. "To being alone. Together."

[the-teddy-bear-butch]

Too sleepy to write, too wired to sleep

Have another au on the WIP list that I haven’t talked about yet!

“there in the garden, she looked my way”

(Title from Predator & Prey by Griffin Puatu)

Or: Beauty & the Beast AU, ft vampire Nancy

Nancy was always dangerous. She was an independent woman, she didn’t want to get married, she could read. It was blasphemous. It was enough that the townspeople wanted to burn her at the stake—so she asked a “fairy” (secretly a witch) for help. The witch obliges, but with a curse—vampirism. Nancy is given the strength to protect herself, but at the cost of a ravenous hunger she can never truly sate. She killed someone. It wasn’t intentional, but it happened—so she ran away, secluded herself in a castle all her own for nigh a century.

Enter Robin Buckley. Once again, the town has an outcast. Robin is strange. She talks too much and knows too much and there’s talk that she may be… Queer. She knows what the town says of her, but she goes about her life regardless. She’s the baker’s daughter, and she sometimes travels to deliver goods.

One of her deliveries goes wrong. It’s a stormy night and she loses her way. She seeks solace in a dark castle she’s shocked she didn’t know existed.

She’s welcomed to a place of magic and mystery—home of a mysterious, beautiful woman, cherry red lips and skin pale as snow. Nancy doesn’t hold her against her will, but the storm—perhaps destiny—keeps her there.

They fall in love along the way. Robin eventually discovers what Nancy is. Angst aplenty.

Billy playing the role of Gaston? I just think Nancy and Robin should get to murder him.

[perpetuallylocked]

ND Asks: 8, 17, 24, 26, 33, 39, 40

Favorite second chance?

Someone else asked this and I said the elevator squishing scene in TRT, so I'll share my second-place winner: getting absolutely destroyed by a wrecking ball at the end of FIN. Clearly the older games had a good thing going with the death scenes.

Favorite meal to make in ICE?

I am a lush for breakfast foods, so definitely the omelets, Canadian bacon, and French toast. The fact that you can add a heaping cup and a half of paprika to the omelets as you cook them never fails to delight me.

Most confusing plot?

Almost ten years later and I still have not figured out the purpose of The Shattered Medallion. (Yes, ten years: MED was released in May 2014.)

Most stupid motive?

Continuing the above answer, the culprit in MED did what exactly???

What did Nancy put in the time capsule in ASH?

I firmly believe that it's the "How to Be a Detective" book from her desk!

Most pointless/irrelevant phone contact?

She does further the plot in both of these games, but using Hotchkiss as the historian in CRY and in TMB made no sense to me. Her inclusion in CRY didn't focus on the large French influence in New Orleans, so an opportunity was missed there, and it really doesn't make sense for her focus to have suddenly switched to Egyptology. With her being a scholar of French history, it would have made much more sense for her to be included in DAN instead (even though her canonical focus was well before WWII).

In which game do you have to use the most second chances?

It's not a traditional second chance where you're taken out of the game, but bypassing the security robots while you're stealing the sapphire in VEN is nigh impossible without getting caught at least a few times. For a traditional second chance, I feel like getting through the moving rooms for the first time in CUR (I know the trick for after that!) takes me out a bunch. In CUR, I also intentionally kill Nancy a lot by knocking on doors at night and playing with the carnivorous plants.

[m-madeleine]

hi! for the end of the year asks: 1, 3, 9, 14, 22, 24?

Hiiii!

1. How many books did you read this year?

Officially 33, although counting is difficult because I interned in publishing this summer and read some books that weren't out at the time. I keep thinking of more books I finished half a year ago. There's one that's announced for February and I guess I'll be counting it for this year instead??

Then there were also a couple that I technically finished, but am not counting for my goodreads challenge for Reasons, like I was basically skimming because of fast review deadline...or found so artrociously horrible I don't even want it to stain my account lmao. And that last one, I did the final edit for, so I know how bad it was even after multiple professional editing rounds :P

3. What were your top five books of the year?

In no particular order

A Deadly Education by Naomi Novik (EL!!! El, the girl who was born to be evil and fights tooth and nail to stay good out of spite T-T) (Also I realized I operate nigh daily on the exact same level of vigilance as a kid in a school that will KILL YOU and that's....a lot)

The Old Ways by Robert Macfarlane (chill nonfiction about hiking and sailing mostly around Britain)

Shadow Girls by Carol Birch (girl's schools and ghostssss)

The Death of Bees by Lisa O'Donnell (two girls bury their own parents in their backgarden; macabre in the best ways, grim but full of love)

Dark Places by Gillian Flynn (essentially a fictional true crime case where you actually get the satisfaction of unpeeling all the layers through a round dance of POVs, left me Pondering for daysss)

Bonus: Along the Trenches by Navid Kermani (a travelogue that gets into the nitty gritty of the history and politics of Eastern Europe and the Caucasus) (I've only gotten halfway through, but I have to mention it NOW because it's amazing and Kermani has been cemented as my non-fiction crush)

9. Did you get into any new genres?

Not really! I def felt a taste for dark stuff this year though.

For the opposite of Getting Into, I had to read a lot of r0mance novels and new adult fiction for work, and mmmmmmm no. No shade, I did enjoy a couple, even though I'm not sure I would've finished them if I didn't have to. But they're just so formulaic T-T I need my books to have a kick.

14. What books do you want to finish before the year is over?

Worked hard on finishing In Männerkleidern by Angela Steidele. It's somewhere between an academic work and a conventional biography? The subject is a working class AFAB person in early 1700s Germany who lived sometimes as a woman and sometimes as a man, had a really interesting life, married a woman but eventually got busted and executed for "sodomy with a woman".

I think Steidele is pretty solid about dealing with the transman or lesbian or?? controversy potential, refers to the main character as whatever gender they were presenting as at the time and when discussing the possibility of interpretation at the end gives evidence for and against all possibilities fairly imo.

You're usually not gonna catch me reading history stuff outside uni, but this was a treat.

22. What’s the longest book you read?

Mansfield Park!

24. Did you DNF anything? Why?

Oh yea. For one, a lot of that was involuntary through work, often you'll only get a 50 page sample, sometimes the rest isn't even written yet.

One thing for work I DNFd more or less voluntarily was What Doesn't Kill Us by Ajay Close (sent in for translation licensing). I actually loved it and for the first and last time felt that famed editor "This is MY manuscript and I'm FIGHTING for it" feeling. Buuuuut it's very dark and visceral and I wasn't in a great headspace at the time, so I kind of just quiet quit on it during my last week. I did still write it a recommendation for as far as I got.

Outside of work, The First Day of Spring by Nancy Tucker. Only took me a couple pages to realize it was based on Mary Bell. I actually thought it was very well done, but it was tough to read just because of the subject and even flipping forward didn't help. I don't think I'll go back to it, I feel like I kind of know what it was doing and where it was going and I liked it, but don't need to experience it page by page.

[jonathanbyersphd]

Jancy WIP:

“Well we can’t all have careers with the Chicago Sun-Times, Nance” Jonathan snarks  “No, but there has to be something better than this” Nancy argues back, biting her lip “This is just the way it is” he shrugs “That’s bullshit” she exclaims “It’s fine, I’ll just deal like everyone else does” he resigns.  Nancy really doesn’t like that answer. Leave it to Jonathan to be a martyr about losing health insurance. It’s unacceptable really. Not to mention she has a whole health plan that outside of her contacts and birth control she can’t remember the last time she actually needed to use. She looks up at him, trying to think of a way to fix his problem. Nancy doubts seriously she could get him a job at the paper. His work is incredible, but getting a salaried position as a photographer is nigh impossible.   “What are you scheming?” he asks with a laugh, seeing the gears working in her brain “Uh nothing, never mind it’s..” she rambles off, avoiding his eyes.   “Oh c’mon just tell me” he persists “No Jonathan, seriously let it go” She brushes him off  “Don’t make me pull the birthday card” he teases with a smile She hesitates. It’s an idea but it’s also crazy, stupid, and a little risky. Still, the thought of him going off of his antidepressants cold turkey because of a bullshit law hurts her heart too much to not at least suggest it.  “We could get married” Nancy proposes She swears his eyebrows raise off his face completely. She thought she had seen all of his facial expressions but this is certainly a new one. “You’ve got to be joking” Jonathan laughs nervously.  “You need insurance and I have insurance” she explains “Nancy” he interjects  “It can just be on paper no big deal” She cuts him off. “Oh you’re serious?” he mocks  “What’s the worst thing that could happen?” Nancy protests. Jonathan doesn’t respond, she watches him mull over her proposal in his mind. He probably thinks she’s insane. But she can’t let this go, she won’t let this be another hardship he has to overcome when there’s an easy solution.  “Just let me do this for you? Please?” Nancy suggests tenderly “Yea. Yea. Ok Sure. Let’s get married” Jonathan agrees  “Let’s get married” Nancy confers

[glitchbirds]

1 3 10 for horror asks

<3 1: top 3 favorite subgenres -WELL. i find it hard to really determine what i think the main horror subgenres to chose from even Are because i feel like you can make a nigh-infinite number of different subgenres or sub-subgenres- like, do i consider "splatstick" its own thing or just a subset of a splatter film? or of horror comedy? are zombie films just a type of monster movie, or are they their own separate thing? etc etc broadly speaking, i feel like i like most types of horror, i clearly like slashers a lot, and i love a lot of psychological stuff; and i do really like horror comedy when its done well (a lot of modern horror comedy in particular is very mediocre to me, feels like theres more and more of a tendency towards either lowbrow edgy offensive dudebro comedy OR annoyingly self-aware fourth wall breaking w/o an understanding of how to use metahumor appropriately... the latter also creeping into a lot of modern slasher films, even if theyre not strictly horror-comedy). i love found footage and a lot of highly experimental surreal stuff, though both feel more like descriptions of styles than genre (but then, film noir has more or less escaped the confines of "only referring to visual style and not actually a distinct genre", at least depending on who you ask, so why cant "found footage"?) and i really have become more and more fascinated with exploitation films this last year, which is itself a ridiculously broad "genre" whose definition seems to change depending on who's describing it at any given moment, and which definitely crosses over heavily with horror... idk! i think my top 3 would roughly be exploitation horror, psychological, and slashers, but its up for debate 3: top 3 favorite decades -love this one because ive been thinking about this exact question a Lot lately. most of the horror movies ive seen have been from the 80s but i think my favorite decade overall is the 70s, its that perfect sweet spot just before a lot of common horror tropes became horror tropes and thus before a lot of stuff began to be repeated to death; a lot of my favorites are from the 70s (halloween, tcm, lets scare jessica to death, hausu, death bed, carrie, jaws, magic, alien... etc); and idk i just love the style of a lot of 70s films. even a really mediocre 70s movie can usually be partially saved by looking nice enough or having a good enough vibe to carry me through the runtime. the past few weeks ive been making more of a conscious effort to watch 50s/60s movies as well, including ones that i dont hear talked about that often (if at all) and ive been having a great time with that. i think next year im going to try to focus more of my attention on that general 50s-late 70s horror time frame and watch as much as i can from then, good and bad. and pre-50s films too, ofc (short answer: 70s favorite, 80s second place, maybe 60s third place?) 10: favorite final girl(s)

-laurie strode is obviously taking the top spot <3 love her. off the top of my head theres not a lot of other traditional final girls who come to mind, aside from sidney prescott; i do LIKE final girls like nancy from elm street or stretch from tcm2 but i dont consider them favorites. most of my favorite horror characters (at least non-killer ones) arent from slasher movies, so im a bit more reluctant to give them the final girl status. and ash williams. obviously

[libidomechanica]

Thus dancing Muscovite—the

Motion willed, stolne from him down. The     nigh. The city’s taken. Thus dancing Muscovite—the great     son took a glance to see

and empty shoes upon my Nancy,     I though the charms, unless you with sparkle and honour     stars! So that red with thee.

[angevon]

Books I read 2023 #23

23. Every Heart a Doorway by Seanan McGuire

I wanted so hard to love this book. There's a trans character, there's an asexual character, there's a lesbian. There's an exciting murder mystery. There's a school for kids who've been to magical worlds and are now trying to cope with being forced back into the 'real' world after their adventure is over. There's hints of worldbuilding.

But that's the problem, there's only hints. This book is described as a 'novella' and that's the biggest issue. It should've been a full length novel. There's something to be said about the value of brevity (especially after reading that monster of a book, The Priory of the Orange Tree), but this one suffers from its lack of detail. We aren't given enough time to connect with the characters, and are told repeatedly that things will be explained later, but then they aren't (e.g. the logic behind the naming scheme for the types of worlds). Oftentimes there's info-dumping after the fact to explain why something happened, when it should've been explained piecemeal throughout the story instead.

Take Eleanor, the headmaster, for instance. She starts the story, so it sounds like she's the main character. She's not. And we're told that she can still visit her magic world, and we're told this is unusual. Near the end of the book, when the murders keep happening, she says she can take some kids to her world for safety. The book suddenly infodumps on how this is highly unusual for her. But this would've been better explained far earlier in the story. Nancy, the actual main character, could've asked at any time about it, and this would've been the perfect opportunity to emphasize that Eleanor is super protective of her world and wouldn't let anyone in. You know what they say; show not tell!

There's also an issue with some of the children not getting names. So you get "the girl with braids" as a minor repeat character. I suppose the author intends to write more with the named characters in particular (I read the synopsis and the sequel is a prequel backstory on two of the characters) so the author didn't want to name any extras, but this on its own reduced the pool of characters the murderer could've been. It wouldn't be someone nameless. Partly from this and partly from the lack of time spent on character development, when the murderer was revealed, to me it was more an "oh, ok I guess" than an "oh I knew it!" or "wow! I had no idea!"

The explanation of why the murderer is the murderer is also an infodump, as we didn't have their backstory to understand it. The backstory appears to be explained in the sequel/prequel. Which is obviously unsatisfying.

And throughout the story it's emphasized that finding a door back to the magic world is nigh impossible, and usually accompanies some sort of burning need, but suddenly the book ends with one appearing for Nancy. Sure, we know she wanted to go back, but it didn't feel like she needed to go back. There should've been more instances of her longing to go back, because honestly it felt like a cop-out ending. Speaking of Nancy, there's this unresolved romantic tension between her and Kade which is... simply ignored by the end? The lack of any sort of resolution for them is a let down.

Finally, there's a scene in which a bigoted girl says something extremely transphobic to the trans character, and she isn't punished for it. The headmaster says something to the effect of "I'll deal with her later" and then... doesn't follow up on it?

Really, I was left feeling empty and unsatisfied by the end of this. There was so much potential!

[adolin-is-best-boy]

ranking four queer stranger things ships on how likely i think they are to become cannon!

Ships in question: ronance, byler, jargyle, steddie

from least likely to most likely

note: i’m more focusing on the thematic and meta stuff to determine whether it gonna happen or not

4. Jargyle

i mean, it’s cute, but there is very little evidence for this happening. the only reason i could see the writers doing it would be to give jonathan another love interest after a likely jancy breakup. I mean, neither of them seem the most straight to me, but not in a way that makes it seem that their relationship could be anything more than platonic. besides, if half of the ships on this list end up being canon, when you add it to the other canon ships, then adding jargyle would really make it a bit cramped in the romance department

3. Ronance

the chemistry is there! nancy and robin are looking at eachother in those posters, the same way all the other (basically) canon ships are. it might be a thing relating to getting the other person unvecna’d, but then it’s kinda weird that jopper is doing it. also, i feel like nancy being queer could also lead to some actual sibling bonding with you-know-who. good vibes here all around, plus it’s one of my favorite w/w ships ever!

however, there are some things that make me less sure it’ll happen. first of all, vickie. the only reasons i see robin and vickie not happening is A. vickie dies (lame), or B. vickie doesn’t like girls (unlikely). from the way it’s been building up it’s nigh impossible some sort of romantic confrontation (or something like that) between them won’t happen, and it would be kinda weird if it was built of that robin liked vickie only for her to end up with nancy, unless vickie dies, which would be not very cool (but i could see happening in vol 2).

second of all, i have a feeling nancy is gonna die, if not in vol2 then in season 5. but that’s an entire other post, so i won’t say much else. i’d really like this ship to happen, but i won’t be surprised if it doesn’t.

2. Steddie (bisexual steve)

steddie just makes sense for a lot of reasons! steve having an arc where he realizes he’s bisexual has been set up SO well, it works perfectly with his character, it would be a shame if it were wasted. eddie is heavily gay/queer coded, making it perfect for steve to realize things about himself. plus, it would be perfect for the kids to have someone they already look up to be queer, and make them more comfortable with themselves. im about 75% sure that steve is bisexual.

the only problem here is that eddie has some massive death flags in vol2. i really don’t want this to happen, but i can’t ignore the signs. but if he DOES survive vol2, then i believe it’s extremely likely we’ll get steddie in s5. if he doesn’t live, then it’s possible that steve could end up with jonathan, bc of the likely jancy breakup and the fact that it would be poor writing if stancy got back together. i think we’ll for sure see some queer steve stuff in s5.

1. Byler

it’s happening 100%. i have never been this confident in a queer ship (or any ship for that matter) before. i am so confident in byler happening that i am going to schedule a post on july 1st celebrating it. there is no doubt in my mind. too me it’s so obvious it’s happening that i feel like it’s redundant to explain to anybody who’s seen the show why. there are so many reasons (both external and internal) why byler is going to happen that im not even going to list them, just watch the show.

the question is not IF byler is happening, but WHEN byler is happening. In my opinion it would be better if they are established by the end of vol2, not only to haze out the homophobes early, but to give the relationship time to grow so we can see them as a fully fledged couple in s5 before it ends. there are other reasons, but those are the main ones. however i could also see the writers not having them get together yet, and only confirm that they both have feelings for eachother so they can get together early/mid s5 and we can watch them navigate a new relationship and what it means.

———

okay im done, let me know what y’all think

Edit: I fucking hate it here

Edit 2: never mind im gaining hope again

[prettybillycore]

Out of Love || Billy Hargrove x Harrington!Reader

Pairing(s): Billy Hargrove x Harrington!GN!Reader ; Steve Harrington + Sibling!Reader

Universe: Stranger Things

Summary: Steve’s younger sibling fell hard for Billy when he first moved to Hawkins, but as the summer of 1985 rolls around, they realize that they have fallen out of love with him. Now, they have to figure out how to break up with him. 

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: canon typical violence, mental health issues, relationship angst, billy’s anger issues, falling out of love, Neil Hargrove is his own warning, mentions of depression, major character death, mourning A/N: I am always excited when I receive angst requests because they give me a challenge and a chance to put my own inner turmoil into something productive. That being said, when I write angst for myself, I usually write angst with a happy ending. I enjoy things working out in the end. However, I know (and am all too familiar with the fact) that not everything ends well. Not everyone gets a happy ending. This was a good chance to write about that. Thank you for handing me this prompt anon (ik u told me who u were, but I can’t find the post for my life…). I hope y’all enjoy the angst, vulnerable!billy, accountable!billy, and trauma therapy. Please heed the warnings on this one. It is very dark.

I think I made reader a little more emotionally attached than you requested; I hope that was okay!

Read it on Ao3 or here on Tumblr (below the cut on this post)

Everything with Billy always moved fast. Everything he did started with whirlwinds and flying down the interstate at ninety miles an hour. At first, this is partly what caused you to fall for him. He rolled into the parking lot of Hawkins high with that beautiful Camaro and highlighting smile. Your first interaction pretty much just consisted of you mumbling “hot damn” under your breath and him tossing you a nonchalant wink. Your brother and his at-the-time girlfriend Nancy both grimaced and rolled their eyes. You, on the other hand, were entranced. 

Your connection only got stronger; you were in the same grade and your teachers seemed to like you two sitting together– you were next to each other in three classes. He flirted with you relentlessly and you tossed it right back to him. Your meeting felt cosmic to you; you were supposed to be in each other’s lives during that time. You partly wished you could go back to thinking that way. It would be easier if you could. 

You agreed to go on a date with him even though Steve told you not to. Your brother’s opinions meant a lot to you, but his word wasn’t the final say. It was your choice at the end of the day. You got ready and were excited to see what the night would bring, but it was called off when you found out that Dustin Henderson had been raising a baby Demogorgon in his bedroom. You fought to protect your brother in the junkyard and raised holy hell when Billy started in on the party while at the Byer’s house. 

You did end up going on your date later that week– with the requirement in place that he work on himself. He absolutely hated it, but he agreed to see a therapist. He started working on his relationship with Max and he wrote an apology letter to Lucas that eventually turned into a sit-down conversation. Steve forgave him for their fight after some time; he even agreed to let Billy and Max stay at your house when things got bad at their place. Max was in shock as time went on and Billy really was working on himself. He still wasn’t the best older brother, but she could see that he was genuinely trying– that was enough for the time being. You were still in love with him at that point. Your feelings were strong and, you thought, unbreakable. You started therapy as well for the trauma you endured while dealing with the upside down. You had to edit a bit in front of your therapist, not everyone knew about the upside down, after all, but you got better too. Your nightmares got less frequent and your bond with Steve got stronger too. You were open about your mental health with him for the first time and he was open with you too. You, Billy, and Steve took turns driving the party around town on the weekends. The world seemed almost perfect there for a few months. 

As the weather warmed and you got farther into your therapeutic journey, your feelings toward Billy started to drastically shift. He was working on being a better person, truly, but he was still dealing with a lot in his home life. Just because Billy (and sometimes Max) were receiving therapy, it didn’t mean Neil was. He was still just as bad as ever and you knew it was taking a toll on the step-siblings. Max came to you sometimes with stories of what was going on; you knew she just needed a place to vent. You listen carefully and fully to everything she said. Some of the things that Billy was still doing broke your heart, but you did your best to reassure her that everything would be okay. You would help Billy and her get to a better place. She hugged you and cried. You held her and never let any tears slip– though on the inside you were definitely crying. Your soul was screaming at you that something was wrong, but you brushed it off. Your therapist made you very aware of your coping mechanisms (which mainly consisted of saying “whatever” to everything). You did your best to confront your feelings when you could, but after helping those around you process their emotions, you pretty much had no energy left to process your own. Every time you saw Billy, he was his usual self– adoring, sarcastic, and mean to everyone, but you, Steve, and Max. He held you tight as you fell asleep at night and always had his hand on your waist when you were out together, but something just felt off to you. You knew from Max that he wasn’t being open with you anymore and you knew that something in your heart was changing. The walls that he had so quickly broken when you first met started to build themselves up again. You didn’t even realize it at first, but it was painfully obvious to Steve and Max. They were watching your relationship crumble before their eyes.

It was June and your bond with Billy was slipping every day. He still came to your house all the time, but sometimes you just ignored his presence altogether. He would try to be your classic doting boyfriend, but you were busy learning all the patterns of your ceiling. He did notice, but he pretended that it wasn’t happening. His attachment to you was fierce and he couldn’t bare the thought of existing without you by his side. It wasn’t an option in his world. A lot of the time you spent together became filled with silence or small platonic conversations. He wouldn’t open up to you about how he was feeling and you felt closed out. You didn’t know where he was anymore. Your therapist was telling you to stop dragging the relationship out. You refused to admit to yourself for a long time that the change you felt toward Billy was falling out of love, though June was coming to an end and you were only getting farther from your boyfriend. 

Billy was working at the pool and Steve was working at Scoops Ahoy. Max was off hanging out with Lucas and Dustin was gone to summer camp. Nancy and Jonathan were working or spending time with each other. Everyone was doing their own things and it left you with way too much time to yourself to think. You ended up spending most of your free time laying face down in your bed or rewatching Star Wars. Steve would get home at the end of his shifts to see you, looking completely defeated on the couch. When Billy would come home from the pool, Steve would watch you fall into his hugs or just flat out not respond to his presence. He knew you weren’t trying to be mean, Billy knew that too, but they both could tell you were going through some major emotional turmoil. You felt like there was no one you could go to about it; other than your therapist, of course. You were finally admitting it to yourself that you had fallen out of love with Billy and you had no idea what to do with this information. You felt anxious and disappointed in yourself. You kept telling yourself “whatever, just get through this next day and you can figure it out tomorrow.” Tomorrow kept coming, and you kept shutting your feelings inside. It was almost like you were trying to bury the fact that you weren’t in love with Billy anymore– you just weren’t doing a very good job of it. 

Steve was the first one to break the tension. Billy was at his dad’s place so it was just you two in your childhood home. “You don’t seem happy anymore,” it started, “is there anything I can do to help?”

The worry in your brother’s voice is what made you start crying. You felt so much all at once that you couldn’t keep it bottled up anymore. You loved and cared for Billy, but not in the same way anymore– and it was eating you from the inside out. He listened to your thoughts and reassured you that it would be okay in the end– Billy loved you as a person and would be okay if you ended your relationship. You weren’t so sure, but between your therapist’s reactions and Steve’s, you knew that it was the right thing to do.

You broke up with your boyfriend, Billy Hargrove, on July 1st. 

He came over to your house after his shift and you hugged him tightly. You were shaking and you both sat on the edge of your bed. He knew something had been terribly wrong for a while, but this was the first time you were showing signs of anxiety. “Whatever is going on, we can get through it together, you know?”

You rolled your eyes and sighed. “You haven’t been letting me in either, you know that right?” 

“I’m trying my best, Doll. I’m not exactly used to people caring about how I feel,” he replied. 

You flopped back so you were laying down. Your eyes were, once again, tracing the patterns of the ceiling. “I’ve been putting my feelings on hold as much as I could. I… I don’t want to hurt you, but I know what I’m feeling is going to hurt you… so I’ve kept quiet, but that’s really not fair to you at all either.”

“Darlin’,” he said, laying down next to you. You could feel his eyes watching your face. Your body was still shaking, in fact, you were sure the shaking was only getting worse. “Nothing you could say would change how I feel about you. No matter what shit I’m dealing with or you’ve got going on in that pretty little mind of yours, I am in love with you.”

You shut your eyes tightly to keep the tears from forming at your waterline. “And that Billy, is my worst nightmare.”

He sat up on his elbow. His eyebrows furrowed and his expression was almost a scowl. “What’s that supposed to mean, Y/n?”

“I don't love you anymore, at least not in the same way that you love me.” He propelled himself up as he processed your words. He was sitting on the edge of your bed again. You opened your eyes to see his head in his hands. You could hear his breathing become ragged. “I still want you to feel safe staying here, but I can’t continue like this anymore. I love you with my whole heart, but in the best friend kind of way. I absolutely still want you in my life, but I understand entirely if you don’t want me in yours… I’m so sorry.” He was still quiet and his breath was still rough. You could hear him counting under his breath and you sat up. You reached your hand out to touch his shoulder, but the second your fingertips made contact with the soft cotton fabric of his t-shirt, he ripped himself away from you. He stumbled to his feet; his expression could only be explained as seething white-hot rage and deep internal damage. 

“Don’t fuckin’ touch me! How could you do this?” His hands pulled the skin of his cheeks so hard that he almost broke it with his nails. His eyes were red and tears were following the trails that his nails made down his face. 

“I didn’t do this on purpose. It’s like my heart has run out of love. Romantic love that is. I still deeply care about you, Billy and the last thing I have ever wanted to do is hurt you. I knew this would hurt, but it would be even worse if I didn’t tell you and kept a relationship alive for months that was doomed. I needed to tell you now because that was the right thing to do. I don’t expect you to be okay or even want to speak to me for a while, I just couldn’t keep this to myself. I love–”

“Don’t you say you love me! Clearly, you fucking don’t. I’ve been in love with you this whole time; I would have married you tomorrow if you asked me to! How could you ever expect me to see this house as a home when you aren’t my partner anymore? I knew something was wrong, but I never would have guessed you were thinking that! Fuck–” His words were getting caught in his throat. 

You stood up from the bed and moved to comfort him, but you stopped yourself before you actually reached him. You pulled your hands close to your body and ended up wrapping them around your own shoulders to give them a place to be. “I don’t expect you to forgive me or be okay with this, but I want you to know that you are always welcome here, Billy. I want what’s best for both–”

His hands were balled into fists and you were cut off by him punching the wall by your door. You hadn’t even processed the fact that he had turned away from you. “Fucking damn…” he grumbled. 

“Billy–”

Your door slammed so hard as he left the room that two of your picture frames fell off your wall. You collapsed to the ground and crumpled into yourself. You knew that he was going to be upset, but you hadn’t expected that bad of a reaction. You could tell that he was trying so hard to control his anger, but his body was failing him. You wanted to chase after him, but you heard the Camaro roar to life and speed off before you could even get yourself to your feet. Steve came into your room, followed by a worried Dustin and Max. You had no idea the kids were in the house and your heart sank at the dark looks on their faces. “I’m sorry.”

Max lower herself to sit on her knees. She threw her arms around your shoulders and you felt yourself slipping away into the familiar “whatever” numbness. “It will be okay, Y/n. You have helped us so much. He will come around, I’m sure.”

| < ♥️ > |

If you knew what was to come, maybe your choices would have been different. You didn’t see Billy again until you were facing him in Starcourt Mall a few days later. The sight of him made your heart fall apart. Even though things were bad between you two right now, he was still one of the most important people in your life. You would have been okay knowing that he was still out there, even if he wasn’t in your life directly anymore. You never could have imagined that a few days after breaking up with him that he would become a victim of the mind flayer and the horrors of the upside down.

You were pretty open with him during the course of your relationships, but you did everything you could to keep him away from the monstrous hell dimension. You made sure the party kept quiet about it when he was around, you never told him the true details of the night at the Byers' house or the fight in the junkyard that caused you to miss your original first date. To think that he was flayed on the drive home from your house– just about killed you inside. You were looking him in the eyes. “Billy! Billy, come on! You have to be in there still! Fight this son of a bitch! Please, you have to make it out of this!” 

For a split second, you could see him. His expression softened and his hand moved out from his side; he was reaching out to you. Just as quickly as he was there, he was gone. Everything happened so fast and you felt so powerless. Eleven, the mind flayer, and all the destruction– Billy sacrificed himself to save the rest of you. Steve held you back; your body was trying to run toward him. Your heart wanted to try something, anything to save him, but there was nothing anyone could do. The upside down had claimed his soul.

| < ♥️ > |

You were laying on the dirt in his jacket. Your eyes were glued to his headstone; though they were dry. “Today was fucked up. You should have been there, your old friends are such assholes. Tommy Hagan was trying to mess with the younger hellfire club members, aka our kids. I told him to fuck off, but he didn’t really listen. Munson stepped in though. It was pretty cool I guess. I wish you were here to scare the shit out of him though for bullying the party. This whole high school thing is the fucking worst without you.”

Tags: @whoringrove @bilqis-of-sheba

[fireflymoonwitch]

[TW Body Horror, Domestic Abuse, Kidnapping]

An occult makeover of the Landgraabs for the Monster Palooza Challenge by @kofencrew!

Oasis Springs may offer a safe refuge in a monster-infested world, but to reach it one must travel through a nigh-inhospitable desert ruled over by a powerful and cruel vampire lord, Geoffrey Landgraab.

The town wards keep out the undead, so he stole away a Plantsim dryad from the forests of Copperdale to be his bride and weapon. However, her powers wilted under the hot sun and parched sands, much to his disgust. She wasn’t completely useless however, bearing him a son whose nature encompassed both life and undeath. He has high hopes for his carnivorous plant boy, provided his mother doesn’t smother his predatory instincts.

Geoffrey: Paranoid, Evil, Hates Children, Master Vampire Aspiration

Nancy: Freegan, Childish, Lazy, Outdoor Enthusiast Aspiration

Malcolm: Good, Childish, Neighborhood Confidante Aspiration

[jbenz798]

Chapter 4: Hawkins Community Pool

'Hey.' I opened the door for Billy and moved aside so he could come inside.

'Nah. I won't come in. In a rush. I just thought I would swing by and drop off your purse, looks like you left it at Robin's.' He pulled my purse, which was tucked tightly under his arm and handed it to me with a quick smile, and turned to walk away.

'Hey, Billy! About last nigh-' I started in a slightly raised tone.

He laughed and took my hand in his, clasping the other on top. He looked at me with a devilish smile 'What about it? Meant nothing, Blondie.' He lit the cigarette he had just put in his mouth and took a puff. 'Who cares? Not me. So you shouldn't.' He said as he exhaled a large cloud of cigarette smoke and walked back to his car.

I watched as he sped away down the street. 'Ah okay, fuckhead.' I said to myself as I turned to head back into the house. Puzzled, but not surprised. It was Billy Hargrove after all. But I'm better now I scoffed mockingly, thinking back to the conversation we had last night.

Ew, why do I care?

________________________________________________________________________________

                                                                                          *** 

'Family Video, go for Steve.'

I laughed into the phone receiver. 'Steve, can I please have a ride to the pool?'

'On our way. See you soon.'

________________________________________________________________________________

                                                                                          *** 

A swim was the best idea Robin and Steve could have had.

A tall slim brunette girl walked over to the edge of the pool where the three of you were sitting. Her hair was curly and pulled back in a low ponytail with a large red scrunchy. There were some stray ringlets hanging softly against the left side of her cheek. 

'We still on for tonight, Steve?' She asked before turning to Robin and greeting her also.

'You bet.' He winked back at the greened eyed girl who had now sat down beside him with her legs draping into the pool.

'Oh, I'm so sorry!' She exclaimed as she looked toward me 'I'm Jennifer Johnson- Jenny.' She said excitedly and smiled brightly. 

'I'm Michelle. Wheeler.' I replied and couldn't help but smile back. She was infectious.

'Wheeler?! Like Nancy?' She asked, still smiling.

'Nancy, yeah. We are cousins.' 

'Radical!' She slid into the pool next to Steve and gave him a warm kiss on the cheek. The two of them swam to the other end of the pool.

I began to tell Robin about what had happened that morning with Billy and how rude he was. As we walked over to the sun lounges where our towels were sitting.

'Well, are you shocked?!' Robin asked loudly as she lay back, soaking up the sun's rays. 'The two of you never got along, why would you magically start now, dingus?'

I laughed. 'You got me there. He just seemed kind last night. Must have been the beer talking.' We both laughed 'Jenny seems cool.' 

'She is brill. Her and Steve together. Excellent.' She said as she sat up to apply more lotion to her back before rolling onto her stomach. 'Got my back?' She asked, handing me the tube.

'Sure.' I started applying the lotion to her back. 'So what about you? Anyone special?'

'Me and Vickie are actually hanging out. Yeah, she dumped her barf bag of a boyfriend and we have been going pretty well.' She said animatedly. 'She is out of town visiting her parents but she should be back soon, you'll love her!'

Nancy and Jonathan walked into the pool, looking super intense and super in love. Of course. They came to sit with us over by the far end of the pool. 

'Guess what Jonathan got on camera?!' Nancy smirked as she sat down.

[burnt-avocado]

Empty Space 5

Empty Space - Chapter Five

summary: chief hopper investigates a call from the high school. mars and eleven reveal more of their story, and nancy is invited to a party. [4.3k]

series tags: canon divergence, slow burn, friends to lovers, fluff, memory loss, [REDACTED]

Chapter Four | Masterlist | Chapter Six

Jim

Jim Hopper needs a fucking cigarette. 

He’s tired and he’s goddamned tense. The search party for Will Byers had lasted all night, Jim leading the volunteers through the woods for nigh on eight hours straight until he’d called it off. There’d been no sign of the boy, and he’d have to go back to Joyce without her son.

Despite the woman’s insistence, Jim couldn’t see a route where he didn’t go after Lonnie. The shitstain hadn’t spoken to his children in over a year, moving to Indianapolis and fucking off to do God knows what, but the damned ninety-nine times out of a hundred.

Jim hopes more than anything that this is one of those times. For Will’s sake, for Joyce and Jonathan’s.

He moves a shaky hand to his breast pocket, where a half-empty pack of Marlboros should be. 

Should be.

There’s a distinct lack of them when he goes to pull them out. And Jim’s glad no one’s remotely close enough for him to throttle. 

Powell and Callahan are thirty feet off, taking a report from a dowdy old woman just outside the Hawkins high school. An office lady named Patt, who Flo had known since kindergarten. Jim had met her once or twice, just like everyone else in this town, but admittedly goes out of his way to make sure he doesn’t have to come by the schools. Not if he can’t help it.

But now he’s sitting here in the Hawkins high school parking lot, it’s six in the morning, and he’s out of goddamned cigarettes.

“Chief!” Powell yells from Callahan’s side, waving him over.

Jim’s jaw groans with the way he’s clenching it. His officers stare over at him in his Chevy. They don’t quit their looking even as he throws on his hat and slams closed his car door. He isn’t very gentle with either action.

“What’s goin’ on?” He calls out, stepping heavily toward the group.

“Oh, Hopper,” Patt, small next to the two men, looks expectantly toward Jim, “These two knuckleheads ain’t worth shit for help!”

Powell rolls his eyes from over her head and Callahan scratches at his temple with his pen.

“What’s this I heard about a break in?” Jim asks, now standing before the woman and settling his hands on his hips. 

Her energy is apparent, with the way her tiny, old frame jitters and how the moist corners of her lips wobble. “Yes, sir. Front office tore up nice and good!”

Behind her is what was once a glass door, now shattered and blinds fluttering in the cold morning breeze.

Callahan gestures to the inside with his notepad, “Hadn’t gotten too good a look at it, Chief, but we figured it’s just—”

“It ain’t just kids, officer!” Patt cuts in, with a grandmotherly scold and a pointed finger. “If you’d listen to me, you’d know the youth ain’t interested in what I got.”

Jim reaches out a calming palm. “Now, don’t worry about these guys, eh, Patt? You and I are talking now. Run me through what you’ve seen.”

“I seen what there is to be seen, sheriff! I arrived here promptly at five o’clock, as I have for twenty-four years, even when ole mister Mallop crashed his truck on the main drag back in ‘72—”

"Chief."

The old woman pauses. "What did you say?"

Jim gives a tight smile. "I'm not a sheriff, ma'am. I was elected."

"Hmph," she sounds, wrinkly lips pouting.

“Yes. Well, what was different about this morning, Patt?” Jim redirects.

She scoffs, shaking her head and the loose skin of her neck with it, “As I’d been getting to saying, I walked on up to the door and happened to notice it was busted in. And when I went to see, the office had been ransacked!”

“You didn’t see anyone unusual when you arrived? No other staff members…?” Jim asks. 

“No, sir! I’m first on campus come dawn, except maybe Claude.”

“Claude?” Callahan quirks a brow, scribbling fast on his notepad.

“Yessir, the janitor. Fine man, Claude Mitchell is. After his wife Linda died, he's been mighty busy here. And the principal won’t get in for a bit, so he ain’t seen this yet.”

Jim grunts in acknowledgment. “Officer Callahan will be sure to reach out to Mitchell today, find out if he happened to notice anything unusual.” 

Said officer peeks over Patt’s head at Jim with a begrudging smile.

If he had his cigarette, Jim would be rolling his jaw with it between his teeth.

“Mind if I take a look? In the office?”

More jittery arm movement as Patt waves to usher the men inside. “Go on, chief.”

Jim does, his boots crunching the scattered fragments of glass beneath his heel. What remains of the door is pushed easily open, revealing the scene. 

It would be easier for Jim to note what wasn’t fucked with when he peers into the room. The front desk has been flipped on its side, drawers emptied onto the floor—and, God, the floor is more trash than carpet. The file cabinets along the back wall have been upturned and their contents spilled. A framed photograph of a previous senior class hangs by one corner above the remains of a motivational cat poster torn to shreds. A plant is completely uprooted and depotted, soil flung across the layer of scattered papers littering the floor’s surface. Every inch of the room looks as if it had been the center of a fucking tornado.

Jesus H. Christ.

“And you’re certain it wasn’t some students that did this, Patt?” the chief asks, not looking back as he circles the office.

She makes a noise in the back of her throat, a hem!  at Jim’s question. “Sheriff, I’m no stranger to practical jokes and teen tomfoolery. This sort of thing ain’t never happened before, not once!”

Jim pulls his hat from his head, fiddling with the brim as he turns back to face Patt and the two officers standing beside her. “You said kids aren’t interested in what you have here. What, exactly,” he motions to the endless sea of scattered paper, “is here?”

“Well, all this should be student attendance records, along with the home addresses and parent information.”

Powell speaks up, squatting down to read over a document, “No grades or nothin’?”

“A bunch of kids could have come in here looking to remedy their lackluster GPAs, yeah?” Callahan adds, jotting down notes as he does.

Patt looks offended. “I’m a secretary, not a counselor. Lord, y'all are balding and brainless!”

It’s the officers’ turn to be taken aback.

Going to ignore that.

“Do you know if anything has been stolen?” he prods, “Is there anything you keep in this office that someone would find valuable?”

“Nothing that I can recall,” Patt shrugs, pulling her pink, fuzzy cardigan around herself and tapping a kitten-toed flat at a sheet of paper beneath her shoe. “I have no way of knowing what could be missing ‘til I get this mess back and sorted!”

Jim’s brows knit together, and a cold breeze travels over him sending papers flapping up their edges off the ground. 

He goes to speak, “Well, Ms. Shipley—”

“Please,” the old woman interrupts, “Ms. Shipley was my mother. I’m not that old!”

“Right. Patt. I’m gonna have Officer Powell here assist you in cleaning and boarding off your office,” Jim can see the man huff and roll his eyes, “hopefully before you get much school traffic.”

“And he’ll send you and your boss to the station where Officer Callahan,” the officer nods, “will help you file a police report. How’s that sound, Patt?”

She pulls her cardigan tighter to her body, pursing her wrinkly lips and peering up at Jim through the glasses at the tip of her bulby nose. “And what exactly are you going to do about the folk who committed this crime, hm?”

Jim can’t help a rueful smirk coming to his lips, responding, “We find ‘em. That’s what we do, ma’am.”

“Like with that boy?” Jim grinds his teeth. “Byers, was it? His brother goes here, you know.”

Jim really needs that fucking cigarette.

Powell clears his throat noisily. “Ma’am, why don’t we go ahead and start pickin’ up?”

“Yeah,” the man says, lowly, the smirk he’d worn replaced by a tight-lipped smile, forced and barely peaceable. “I’ll be a radio away. I’ve got—” Joyce, scared and desperate, “—another call I have to respond to.”

“As you say, sheriff. Let’s hope this man has it in him to clean with purpose,” Patt says, hardly looking affected by Jim’s annoyed expression. Chief. From at her side, officer Powell claps his hands together and then starts to realign the various knocked over furniture.

Jim takes the opportunity to duck out of the office, Callahan stepping out after him and tucking away his notepad and pen. 

Jim doesn’t hesitate, his fingers twitching around the brim of his hat. “Got any smokes?”

“You out, chief?” Jim wants to wipe the smug expression off the younger officer’s face.

“They really made you a cop with you asking such dumb questions?”

Callahan chuckles to himself. He rummages around his pockets, patting over his pants and then his shirt. Jim avoids letting out an aggravated sigh by instead drilling holes into Callahan’s skull with his eyes while he places his hat back on his head.

There’s subdued victory on the younger officer’s face when he finally holds out a pack of Camels. “Need a light?”

“No, thanks.” Jim pulls one cigarette from the carton, immediately placing it between his lips and heading toward the Chevy.

“You really think the kid called his mom?”

Jim freezes.

“Kinda fucked, if you ask me,” Callahan continues. “Missing kid business.”

A deep breath, a shutting of his eyes, and clenching of his fists. There are many loud thoughts banging around his head, overwhelming and angry.

“Going to check in on Joyce,” Jim lets out gravelly and tight, moving quickly to step into his car. 

He’s fast to put his keys in ignition and peel out of the parking lot, even faster to pour a Valium into his palm. It’s a practiced motion, his hand shaking as the other tightly grasps at the steering wheel, the way he tucks the pill under his tongue and shoves the bottle back into his pocket. His cigarette doesn’t remain unlit long, Jim gulping down an aching cloud of smoke.

It doesn’t do nearly enough—not by any margin. But Jim Hopper does his best to relish in the way that the nicotine flitters in the back of his skull and trickles through his veins. It makes it easier to ignore the ever-present images of smoky skies and tiny hands, to focus on the road in front of him.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Mars

“Dustin,” Mars groans sleepily through her bleary consciousness. There’s an irritating fizz berating her ears, the telltale crackling of static from her cousin’s radio. “Dustin, I’m going to lob my drool at you…”

The sound continues, and Mars sighs out an unhappy moan into the pillow she’s burrowed her face into. 

“Please, just five more—”

More static.

Mars sits up with a tired fervor, ripping herself from the warm blanket she’d been wrapped in, and moves to roll out of her bed and strangle the little asshole who decided to play with his toys at the crack of dawn! 

—But she’s not in her bed.

Cold realization sobers her like a bucket of water, just as well as cracking the top of her head on the table above her. With a pained hiss, she rubs at the ache in her skull. It’s when she opens her eyes that she finds Eleven sitting with a walkie-talkie in her lap, staring back at the older girl bemusedly. 

“Good morning.”

“Shit. Sorry, El,” Mars says, moving to massage the sleep from her eyes, “Forgot where I was.”

A tiny smile pricks at the corner of Eleven’s mouth, quickly returning to fiddling with the device in her hands. Light filters through the sunshine-yellow sheet Mike had used as a wall for their fort, casting a warm glow on the child’s face along with a small night light plugged into the wall. It’s almost peaceful, the two of them tucked close together in the amalgamation of fabrics and bedding. 

Almost.

The events of the night prior slowly creep up again, and Mars can’t help the tears prickling at her lash line, threatening to spill out over her cheeks. 

God, Benny. 

“D-did you sleep okay?” Mars asks, words catching in her throat. Her fingers twist in the quilt between them.

Eleven pauses her toying and unintelligible chattering intermittently breaks through the static, the noise filling the space between this blanketed space beneath a table. “Yes,” she says, after a moment.

“That’s good.” Mars sniffles and moves to wipe away a falling tear with the back of her hand.

A smaller hand meets her cheek before she can. 

Eleven’s palm settles over Mars’ cheek, finger wiping away a droplet falling from her eye. It pulls Mars from her downward gaze. Wide eyes squint beneath furrowed brows, Eleven staring curiously at the older teen.

“Hurt?” El asks.

Mars sucks in a shaky breath, the hot threat of a sob building down her throat. “Um, I-I, no, um—God.”

Something flashes behind Eleven’s eyes, her face twisting into a more concerned expression. Mars finds her mouth pitifully dry, tongue unable to wet her lips when she tries to do anything but weep.

“Just—just sad,” Mars shuts her eyes tight, ushering a new stream of tears down her cheeks. “Yesterday was…”  horrific, nightmarish, unspeakable, traumatizing, “...really scary, El. Those people, the forest.” 

The younger girl is quiet.

“El,” Mars says, still watery but more confident. She opens her eyes, looking directly into Eleven’s stare that has taken on its own teary sheen. “What happened in the diner—with that woman? Those men?”  With Benny. “Won’t happen again, okay? I swear. I won’t let them get you.”

Eleven doesn’t have time to offer a response.

“You are in trouble!”

In a movement that sends light flooding onto El and Mars, Mike Wheeler pulls up the sheet that had enclosed the blanket fort. Eleven yanks her hand back from Mars’ cheek, sitting rigidly under Mike’s attention, the boy having dropped down to his knees.

A lunge of panic hits Mars’ stomach, and she hurriedly scrubs away the moisture on her cheeks.

“What the hell, Mike?”

“Look,” the boy reasons. “I came down to give you guys breakfast, okay?”

“And so you snooped?”  Shit, fuck, ass, shit!

Mike’s freckled cheeks are a little pink. “No! I just happened to overhear; I swear!”

“Mike,” Mars sends the most serious expression she can at the boy, “You can’t tell anyone!”

“You lied, didn’t you?” he says, though not accusatory. “About last night, because El is in trouble! You’re both in trouble, so you made up losing your memory.”

“Yes, I lied! But I’m serious, Mike! We can’t tell anybody, not our parents, not the police, no one!” She’s urgent, near nauseous with unease.

“You don’t want help?” He’s looking at El now, and Mars can see the cogs turning in his head. 

The younger girl shakes her head.

“Because,” Mike’s face slackens with the intensity of his thoughts, “because of ‘those people.’ Who are they? What did they do?”

Mars’ pulse is loud in her head. Fuck. Don’t fucking cry.

The skin between El’s brows creases, her round eyes passing to the floor. 

“Bad.”

It’s all that the small girl gives. Mike’s face twists with concerned confusion.

El turns to Mars then. She searches over her face for a moment, air heavy between them. Then she’s turning back to Mike, raising her hand.

Two fingers brush his forehead, the others folded, and the thumb raised up. A gun. Pointed straight at Mike’s brain. Then Eleven brings it back toward herself, pointing it to the side of her skull. Neither kid breaks eye contact.

Mars feels the promise of bile quirk in her stomach at the sight and hot tears return to her eyes. Fuck.

“Understand?” El asks, with finality. 

A breath escapes from Mike’s parted lips, confusion wiped away and replaced with shock.

The garbled white noise that’s playing from the walkie talkie is once again interrupted by another voice.

“Michael!” reverberates from up the basement stairs. Mike’s mom. 

The boy jumps to his feet, readying to pull the sheet back down. “I’ll be back, alright? Both of you just stay here!”

Mars whips her hand to grasp at the boy’s ankle before he can step away.

“No one, Mike.” The look she sends the boy is desperate, begging, her eyes teary. “Tell no one.”

He nods his head frantically back.

“Oh!” he starts, a light coming over his features like realization. And then he’s tossing the two of them each an Eggo waffle from the depths of his coat pocket. “Breakfast!”

“Mike, where are you? We’re going to be late!” 

“Be back soon!” And he’s gone, dropping down the sheet behind him.

Mars listens as his hurried steps fade, the basement door slamming behind him. She and El are alone again, encased in their tiny hideout, both holding a lukewarm waffle.

When was the last time I ate?

With a shuddering breath and the swallowing down of an anxious sob, Mars lifts up her Eggo. “Bon appétit.”

She allows herself to enjoy the momentary distraction of the reheated frozen treat. It’s a welcome distraction from the barrage of thoughts and emotions and memories that assaulted her senses. When had Mars last eaten? 

Not breakfast, surely. Not that she could remember what she’d had for breakfast yesterday, but who remembers meals? Probably normal people, Mars. Maybe lunch? Something from the cafeteria, since it isn’t cool to bring sack lunches in high school. Yeah, lunch. After fourth period, the designated ‘recover from interacting with Harrington’ class. She’d had a coke and chili dog, sitting alone in the courtyard while rushing to draw up a design for shop class during fifth. There must’ve been a snack once she’d gotten home. Her coming home routine is the same each school day, the way she walks inside and greets the devil cat Mews at the door. She hangs her coat at the front door right after she sets down her bag—

Fuck.

Fuck.

Her bag. Her fucking bag!

It’s a natural movement, built up after months of working for Benny. She’s stepping into the pantry, pulling off her bag and hoodie.

She’d left her fucking bag at Benny’s. Mars had left her bag in that pantry and in it were flash cards with her name on them. And they’d been too busy running for their fucking lives to grab it.

Mars doesn’t know when her hands started to shake, but she registers how her blood runs cold, how she drops the remains of her waffle into her lap.

El’s continued back to skipping through the walkie’s channels and loudly munching on her snack. The noise grates so terribly on Mars’ ears, setting the soundtrack for the absolute terror gripping her body.

I’m gonna fucking hurl—

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Nancy

Nancy Wheeler’s gut is doing cartwheels.

Most likely due to this test coming up in Chem, yes. With it being Kaminsky? Gosh, Nancy thinks she’d have to be lucky to come out with a pass. She can’t exactly afford to think about anything else than, say, how weight is defined as a measure of gravitational pull on matter, but mass is the measure of the amount of matter. Or how during fractional distillation, hydrocarbons are separated according to their boiling point.

Steve had made sure she’d known that.

And that’s exactly what she shouldn’t be thinking about right now, not when her ‘A’ is on the line. She can’t afford to relive the memory of how he’d snuck into her room. Or how he’d kissed her on her own bed, how his fingers came up to unbutton her blouse with his mouth moving against hers, how he’d called her beautiful. Because then she’d have to think about how her little brother came in and interrupted them, blackmailing her to hide a girl in their basement!

No, Nancy would absolutely not think about that.

Gosh, who are you, Nancy Wheeler?

With a deep breath, hoping it will push away those pesky thoughts, Nancy refocuses her attention on the flash cards in her hand. 

‘Mass over volume is the equation for—’

“Density,” Nancy mutters to herself, then flipping to the next card.

‘A “ground state” is—’

“My turn!” Wrong.

Nancy lifts her head. Barb is smiling kindly down at her, acting as the ever-supportive best friend she is. 

“The bell just rang, Nance. Gimme your notes.”

“Oh!” Nancy shakes herself from her fog. Second period English is over, her classmates already filing out of the room. “Yes, please. Thank you.”

Barb rolls her eyes, but it’s teasing and unsharp. “Studying for Chem in El Din’s? A little risky, no?”

Nancy smiles a little shakily back at her friend. “I’d gotten the assignment done already. Figured I needed every minute to get this memorized.”

They’ve both tucked their binders into their elbows, walking out of the class and into the bustling hallway.

“On it.” Barb follows alongside Nancy through the crowd. “What does the letter ‘c’ represent in scientific equations?”

“The speed of light.” No-brainer.

“What is Planck’s Equation?”

Easy as pie. “‘E’ equals ‘h’ times ‘v.’”

“When alpha particles go through gold foil, they become…?”

Not as easy, but she gets it quickly. “Unoccupied space.”

“A molecule that can—”

Out of the blue, a certain boy is yanking the flash cards from Barb’s hands.

“Hey!” Nancy can’t help her whine. She was using those.

And now she and Barb are joined by Steve and his friends, Tommy H. and Carol saddling up alongside him as he holds Nancy’s note cards.

“I don’t know,” Steve says, “I think you’ve studied enough, Nance.”

She sighs, “Steve—”

“I’m telling you, you know. You got this!” The smile that he gives her is award-winning, blue ribbon for perfection. But Nancy can’t bring herself to match it as he tucks her flash cards into his back pocket. 

“Don’t worry!” he continues. “Now, onto more important matters—My dad has left town on a conference and my mom’s gone with him, ‘cause, you know, she doesn’t trust him—”

“Good call,” Tommy adds, smirking widely.

Steve is smirking a little, too. “So, are you in?”

Nancy doesn’t hide her confusion. “In…for what?” 

They’re all looking at her like it should be obvious.

“No parents? Big house?” Carol tries. Her eyes aren’t very kind. 

Oh. “A party?”

Carol’s tone isn’t much kinder, Tommy breathing out a laugh at his girlfriend’s side. “Ding ding ding!”

Nancy’s brows furrow even further. “It’s Tuesday.” 

“‘It’s Tuesday!’” Tommy mocks and Carol lets out a few more laughs. Inadequacy blooms in Nancy’s chest.

Some of that discomfort is eased when Steve bats a hand at his friend. He lightly scolds, “Come on,” and rolls his eyes. “It’ll be lowkey. It’ll just be us. What do you say? Are you in or are you out?”

“Um…” A party? During the school week? She’s not even allowed to leave the house at night, not with—

“Oh, God.” Carol says, a scowl pricking at her features. “Look.”

Nancy turns, following the other girl’s pointed stare.

It’s Jonathan Byers. Hanging up a flier on a bulletin board, printed with pictures of his little brother, ‘HAVE YOU SEEN ME?’ written boldly.

Nancy’s heart drops to her feet.

“Well, that’s depressing,” Steve says under his breath.

There’s a guilt that Nancy feels when she looks at Jonathan. It’s sad and it’s twisting as she recalls how she’d spoken at dinner the night before.

‘This is such bullshit! ...Just because Mike’s friend got lost on his way home—’

“Should we say something?” she asks, looking around the group. 

Barb opens her mouth to say something, but Carol cuts her off.

“I don’t think he speaks,” the girl says, giving a sideways glance at Nancy.

Tommy chuckles darkly. “How much you want to bet he killed him?”

“Shut up,” Steve scoffs, annoyed.

And the guilt twists up Nancy’s insides some more, eyes tracing over Jonathan’s inward posture.

There’s a flash of her memory back to her brother and Mars Henderson standing soggy in her room. They’d gone out to look for Will and she’d snuck in a boy.

Nancy needs to say something. So she does.

“Hey,” she says, softly to Jonathan. She’d broken away from the group to get closer to him.

He’s a little surprised, dark chocolate eyes searching over her. “Oh, hey.”

“I just…” Nancy tries to find the right words, scared to say the wrong thing, “I wanted to say, you know, um… I’m sorry about everything.”

Jonathan’s expression shifts, a little darker, and he looks over to the group she’d left behind her. They’re all staring.

Shit. “E-everyone’s thinking about you,” she tries. Maybe she’s already messed this up.

She didn’t know someone could get so small, with the way that Jonathan seems to curl further into himself under their collective gazes.

“It sucks.” It’s all she can think to say.

Jonathan meets her eyes, dim and blank. Detached. “Yeah.”

“I’m sure he’s fine. He’s a smart kid.” She gives the gentlest smile she can muster.

And the bell rings.  Late for Kaminsky.

Nancy smiles some more, trying her best to not look like she’s in a rush. “I have to go.” There’s a small, awkward chuckle she lets out. “Chemistry test.”

Jonathan shows some mercy, the corner of his lips ticking up in his own uncomfortable smile. “Yeah.”

“Good luck.”  I mean it.

“Thanks,” and he’s turning away from her.

Nancy takes that as her cue, returning to Barb. If Carol and Tommy make any snide comments, she doesn’t hear them. She just needs to make it to Chem and ace her quiz.

Over the announcement that’s begun to blare out over the intercom, Steve offers Nancy back her flashcards. “You’re going to do great!”

And through all her stress, Nancy feels the sunshine from Steve’s smile convince her that she will.