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#conspiracy theorist nancy wheeler
wheatnoodle · 11 months
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nancy wheeler becomes one of those journalists hunted by the cia
it’s truly her dream come true
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eldritch-thrumming · 1 year
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may the odds be ever in your favor.
“Dustin Henderson!” The voice rings out from the front of the crowd, perky and cheerful, like the whole entire town hasn’t been gathered here to watch as two of its children are sent to the slaughter on national television.
Steve’s heart pounds in his chest. Sweat breaks out across his back. Adrenaline pumps through his veins, makes his fingertips throb. Dustin, just a few rows in front of him, turns to look at Steve. He meets Steve’s gaze with tears in his eyes, panicked.
Steve can’t think. He can’t see anything beyond Dustin’s fear.
“I volunteer,” he hears himself yell out. His voice sounds shockingly calm to his own ears. “I volunteer as tribute.”
There’s a murmur in the crowd, a ripple of movement. No one from their district has ever volunteered in the history of the Games. Steve is eighteen. This was his last year participating in the Reaping. He'd almost made it.
The fear doesn’t disappear from Dustin’s face, his eyes round and glassy. Steve is distantly aware that Dustin is yelling, but he can’t hear anything over the rushing in his own ears. A Peacekeeper appears on either side of him and they pull him towards the stage, their hands firm and bruising around his biceps. Steve’s feet drag. He can’t seem to lift them high enough to step on his own. The Peacekeeper’s practically drag him up the steps and onto the raised platform of the stage.
Sam Owens, the tribute escort for their district, is smiling wide, teeth white and blinding in the morning sun. He pats Steve on the back, moves him to center stage with his hands on Steve’s arms.
“District 12’s first volunteer ever!” Owens yells into the microphone. “How exciting! History in the making.”
There’s only silence. Steve’s eyes find Claudia Henderson in the crowd. The look on her face shifts from relief to horror and back again. Even from here, Steve can see the tears on her face, shimmering in the sunlight.
Just then, movement at the back of the crowd of teenagers catches his attention. He spies Nancy in one of the back rows. She isn’t ever included in the Reaping, has never had to sign up for tesserae as the mayor’s daughter, but she always shows. Every year when Steve asks about it, she mumbles something about ‘bearing witness.’
Nancy, beautiful in her expensive wool dress, dark hair curled and pinned out of her face, raises her left hand. She presses the fingertips of her first three fingers to her lips before raising her arm high into the air.
Steve watches in fascination as the crowd shifts, shuffling in place, before lifting their own hands and mirroring Nancy’s salute. Steve swallows, breathes deep for the first time in what feels like hours.
Owens’s smile falters, but only slightly. “Right. Now for the girls.” He moves to the large glass bowl, hand circling, fingertips reaching. He pulls a tiny folded paper from the bowl. His hands are quick and sure as he breaks the seal, glancing down at the name. “Robin Buckley!”
The crowd shifts again. Steve feels his lungs collapse in his chest. He focuses in on where Robin stands at the center of the crowd of girls. Her mouth hangs open, her blue eyes huge in her pale face. Steve feels as if his knees are about to give out, wobbly and weak, but he somehow manages to keep his balance. He sees Nancy—just beyond Robin—barely react, but doesn’t miss the way her jaw tightens and her fists clench at her sides, knows her well enough by now to read her tells. The crowd parts as Robin slowly makes her way towards the stage. Owens pulls Robin by her hands, positions her so she stands shoulder to shoulder with Steve.
Steve feels like he might lose consciousness at any moment. His stomach turns, throat constricting. His vision goes dark around the edges.
He can’t bring himself to look over at Robin, knows he’ll lose control if he does, but he feels the back of her hand brush against his, feels her pinky curling around his. He has to bite back a sob and looks down at his feet, breathing deep through his nose.
Everything becomes a blur. Time seems to simultaneously slow down and speed up. Peacekeepers flank Robin and Steve as Owens leads them toward the Justice Building. They only have so much time before they’re forced onto a train bound for the Capitol, will only have a handful of minutes to say goodbye to everyone they’re leaving behind.
Once they make it to the Justice Building, they’re led into a wood-paneled sitting room with overstuffed armchairs and too many throw pillows. Steve’s head is starting to pound, temples throbbing. He feels a heavy pressure behind his eyes and he falls onto a couch in the center of the room. He leans his elbows on his knees, head in his hands. He pushes his palms against his skull. He’s vaguely aware of Robin perched on the cushion next to him, spine ramrod straight, both feet planted firmly on the floor. Her hands twist in her lap.
Steve isn’t sure how long they sit there before the door opens and Dustin comes rushing toward him. Claudia Henderson follows closely behind her son. Robin’s parents bring up the rear.
“Steve, are you stupid? Why would you do that?” Dustin screeches at him, flinging his arms around Steve’s neck—practically tackling Steve into the cushions—and holding on for dear life. Steve can’t respond to him, throat suddenly dry. All he can do is bring his arms tight around Dustin, returning his hug. Several long moments pass before Dustin finally releases him. He looks so young, face red and blotchy. He brings his sleeve up to wipe at his nose and something in Steve fractures as he watches him.
Steve looks at Claudia, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. He stands from the couch and opens his arms to her. She practically falls into him, winding her arms around his waist. “Don’t let him watch,” he tells her, voice low so Dustin won’t hear. He feels his own burning tears spill from the corners of his eyes. They only have a few moments together. “Promise me. Please. He can’t watch.”
Claudia lets out a sob, but Steve can feel her nod against him. “I promise. Come back to us. Promise to fight, Steve,” she whispers, so only Steve can hear. Steve breathes in deep, smells the floral perfume she only wears three times a year on special occasions, the one that reminds him of warm hugs and home.
“Promise,” Steve whispers back.
The visitors are ushered out of the room and Steve is finally able to look at Robin. Her eyes are bright, shiny with tears, but she hasn’t cried, not yet. She has that look on her face, the one Steve recognizes as determination. The one she wears when they decide to break Capitol rules and hike out into the woods, into the bright sunny clearing by the stream where her quick fingers work on building her traps while Steve sharpens his arrow- and spearheads. All they can do is stare at each other.
Someone knocks softly on the door, breaking the spell between them. They both jump and turn toward the sound as the heavy door creaks open. Nancy steps through.
Her face is swollen and her eyes are red-rimmed, but her bottom lip is firm and her head is held high. She has something clutched in her hand.
She crosses the room to where they sit. She kneels in front of them on the patterned carpet. She grabs at Steve’s hand with her free one, pressing whatever’s in the other into Robin’s palm.
“You’re allowed one token from home in the arena,” Nancy’s voice comes out low and quick. “Will you wear this?” Robin looks down at her hand, turns over a gold pin. Steve can’t quite see what it is, thinks it might be the shape of a bird.
Robin nods, gaze lifting to meet Nancy’s.
“Stick together,” Nancy tells them. “Promise. That’s what will get you through the Games. Trust no one but each other. They want a show. Give them one. I—just—” She clearly wants to say more, but she bites her lip, shaking her head. Her curls bounce. “Just. Keep each other safe. Stay alive.” As she says it, a single tear falls from her eye. She abandons her grip on Steve’s hand to wipe it away angrily. “Promise,” she demands.
“Promise,” Robin’s voice comes out a hoarse whisper. “We promise, Nance.” Her fingers curl around the gold pin.
Nancy wraps them both in firm but quick hugs before she leaves the room without a backward glance.
~*~
Robin and Steve are left alone for what feels like hours but can really only be a few minutes before being driven to the train that will transport them to the Capitol. Owens leads them into the lavish train car, where the District 12 mentor, Murray Bauman, already sits.
“Well,” he says, smiling grimly, arms open wide. “What beautiful and brave tributes we have this year.” He takes a swig from the bottle clutched in his hand.
Neither Robin nor Steve speak, they just move toward the seats opposite Murray, dropping down onto the plush cushions in tandem. Steve’s head is still pounding, exhaustion making his arms feel heavy.
Steve must fall asleep sitting up, because the next thing he knows, he wakes to a moving train and dark windows. Robin is no longer next to him. He hears murmuring and glances around, finding Robin and Murray huddled together in a corner, heads close.
Steve clears his throat, sitting up straight. The two of them glance toward him. Robin gives him a tight smile, small and strained. Murray’s grin is wider, but no more happy than Robin’s.
“What’d I miss?” Steve mumbles, voice heavy with sleep. He runs a hand through his hair.
“Talking strategy,” Murray tells him. “Come join the party.” He pats the seat of the chair next to him.
Steve pushes himself from his seat and crosses the small space, dropping heavily into the wooden chair.
“I was asking Murray about finding shelter in the arena,” Robin says softly, like she can tell that Steve’s head is still killing him, despite his nap.
“Right. So?” Steve turns toward Murray.
“So your first priority is surviving long enough that you’ll even need shelter,” Murray replies. “The first few moments in the arena are the deadliest. Absolutely brutal. The Careers will rush the Cornucopia and unprepared tributes will be picked off one by one. Don’t get caught up in the bloodbath.”
Steve thinks that they probably should take everything Murray says with a massive grain of salt. He and Robin hadn’t even been alive when Murray had won the 50th Games almost 25 years ago, but it was common District knowledge that he’d only won as a fluke, because of stupid mistakes other tributes had made and not because of any strategic prowess on his part. Now, Murray was mostly known as the town drunk, who spent his winnings at the only pub in town and more often than not made a fool of himself as he stumbled through the streets before the miners had even broken for lunch.
Steve and Robin share a look.
“No, stop, what’s that?” Murray says pointing between them. His gaze jumps from Steve to Robin and back again.
“What’s what?” Robin asks, genuine confusion coloring her voice.
“That look. Are you… can you read each other’s minds?” The last part is said in a fascinated whisper.
“You’re drunk, old man,” Steve says, rolling his eyes and scowling. Murray is getting on his last nerve already.
“You’re not wrong, kid.” Murray smiles and takes another pull from the bottle in his hand.
Steve sighs. “We should probably call it a night. It’s been a long day. We can reconvene when our heads are clearer.” He gives Murray a pointed look.
“My head is plenty clear,” Murray slurs.
“Right. Get some sleep,” Steve tells both Robin and Murray. “And drink some damn water.” The last part is directed at their mentor.
Murray salutes them both before disappearing from the train car, wandering off to his bed.
Robin and Steve stand in silence.
“Well, goodnight, Steve,” Robin whispers into the space between them. Her voice sounds small in a way it so rarely does. Steve can’t help but reach out a hand to her, pulling her into his chest before she goes of to bed. She sags against him, arms wrapped tight around his waist.
“We’ll figure it out, Rob,” he mumbles into her hair, dropping a kiss to the crown of her head. “We always do.”
Robin sniffles and pulls away, rubbing a hand over her face. “Yeah. We always do.”
She gives him one last look before following Murray out of the train car.
I made a post a lil while ago abt a Steddie x Hunger Games AU because Hunger Games was all over my for you page for whatever reason. Here’s a take on it. This will likely continue BUT I do not do tag lists. I’m sorry! They give me anxiety 🌝 hope you like it!
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you still resent nancy and jonathan for getting together???? for “hurting steve’s feelings”??? despite the fact that he verbally supported their relationship like 2 hours after seeing them together. this from a season that released 6 fucking years ago. a season prior to him saying that he was NOT in love with nancy anymore. do you want me to call shawn levy and tell him of your dilemma. bestie do you need to rewatch the source material
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musicalchaos07 · 2 years
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If there's no one beside you when your soul embarks Then I'll follow you into the dark
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ronanceisintheair · 1 year
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Robin cooks and when Nancy isn't being her assistant in the kitchen she's taking moments to read about conspiracy theories out loud.
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boldlyvoid · 2 years
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Family Values | Part One
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Steve Harrington x Single Mom Reader
Summary: 3 years after the "earthquake" rocked through Hawkins and changed the town forever, it's now known as the Conspiracy Capital of the Country. Drawing in thousands of visitors a year to one specific spot, Steve Harrington's Hawk Shop: your one-stop shop for all your visit needs. Hawkins was essentially a ghost town if it wasn't for the wannabe journalists and demon hunters. And then Y/N moved in, buying the house next door to the Wheelers for herself and her 4-year-old daughter.
Warnings: AU set after season 4 and the Main cast all survived. lots of made-up lore, pregnancy assumptions, mentions of steves childhood and losing his parents in the earthquake, love at first sight, flirting
Word count: 2.5k
Masterlist
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It was so strange to see a moving truck come into Hawkins, most of the time people were leaving. It was basically a ghost town now, the only real foot traffic they got was from conspiracy theorists, news reporters and people obsessed with strange “natural” disasters. 
The influx of guests coming through town inspired Steve to open his own novelty shop in one of the now vacant shops on the main road. Robin and Eddie made t-shirts and buttons inspired by the haunting events that took place in Hawkins, and you’d be surprised how well the Hellfire shirts sold after Eddie was in the news for murder for so long… the satanic panic was now the reason Steve made so much money. 
Most of their friend group never left Hawkins, if they did it was for school and they came back regularly. The Wheelers left their house to Nancy and Mike, packing up with Holly and their things before moving away. So did Robin’s parents… she lived with Steve above the shop now, but for a while, they both lived in Nancy’s basement. 
Steve lost his parents that night of the earthquake, he had no idea they were even home or why they’d be downtown when the earth opened up, but he lost them. Just like that he went from a single child to the only Harrington left in his family and even though they had their differences, not a day went by where he didn’t miss them both. 
He debated selling their house, he already came into possession of all their money and assets, including their business downtown, all of which he handed out to his friends. Eddie had a studio beside the novelty shop, Nancy and Jonathan took over the newspaper and even branched out to do an internet newsletter with help from Susie after she moved to town… and in a few months, Argyle would be opening up a pizza parlour with help from Susie’s sister Eden, who had a garden salad named after her on the menu. 
It was nice having everyone he considered Family all living in the same town still, Eddie and his uncle live above the studio, Argyle and Eden are above what will be their restaurant, and Dustin still lived with his mom, just with the addition of Susie and a few more cats. Lucas and Max moved into Steve's old house, equipped with a ramp for her wheelchair and a bedroom on the first floor, Joyce, Hopper, El and Will also lived there for a small price of taking care of the property and making sure Max was okay when Lucas was away at school. 
Steve kinda made it his mission to take care of everyone who loved him. It was about time a real loving family lived in that house… 
He watched the moving van through the shop window, it travelled down the main street and turned onto Cornwallace. They must’ve bought one of the many houses left vacant up there. It was really only Nancy and the Sinclairs that still lived north of the epicentre. The main crack ran through the centre of Hawkins, all colliding at the town hall which was still in shambles. The bell could still ring, only no one was able to get inside to ring it ever again. 
The vines that were once Vecna were now nothing but stone, adhered to buildings they touched as if welded in place, a forever marker of what tried to destroy them all. 
It was ugly, there was no explanation for what happened and no one would believe them anyway. They simply made do in the town that raised them, the town they almost died to save, it was their home and they weren’t going anywhere. 
Steve's mind wanders back to the moving van throughout the day, intrigued by who these new people could be. Would they have children Erika’s age to repopulate the high school? Was it a newly married couple taking advantage of the absurdly cheap real estate they had to offer? Was it a single dude or a single woman? He wanted to know so bad. 
Luckily for him, he’s the only store open past 6pm that offered everyday essentials. Most people used him as a corner store, so he kept milk, eggs, pop, candy bars, breakfast essentials, canned foods and bread. Not always fresh, but he sold it anyway. No matter what anyone said, he really loved his little store. 
A woman he’s never seen before pushes the door open, letting her toddler in first and then following. “Hi,” the little girl waves at Steve. 
“Hello, Welcome to the Hawk Shop,” he waves back with a smile. “Anything I can help you with?” 
“Yes actually,” she leans down and picks her daughter up. She walks over to his counter and sighs as the child rests against her hip. “We just moved here and I was wondering if you know of a restaurant or anything around? I didn’t have time to hit the grocery store before it closed and we haven’t had dinner yet…”
“We, unfortunately, don’t have a restaurant in town, yet. We’re getting a Pizza place soon, but until then, I do have some food here,” he explains before he leads them around to the back aisle. “Does she like spaghetti o’s?”
“She loves them,” she bounces the little girl a bit, making her laugh even with her thumb in her mouth. “Too bad we can’t make a grilled cheese with it, that’s her favourite.” 
“I have some Kraft cheese slices upstairs in my apartment, I’ll throw in some bread for free too, as a welcome to the neighbourhood gift,” he really didn’t mind helping them out, he would do the same for any parent that came in, even if they weren’t beautiful. 
“You don’t have to,” he waves it off, not wanting to put him out. “We can do with just some soup tonight.” 
“I insist, wait right here!” He runs upstairs to his apartment, thanking god that Robin did a decent grocery shop the other day. He grabs some cheese, a brand new tub of margarine and the softest bread he had before running back to the shop. 
He brings it all over to the counter where they’re waiting with two can’s of spaghetti o’s and a smile. 
“Thank you,” she gives him a sweet smile. “Really, this is so nice of you, she was so hungry.” 
“Big girl like you? I bet!” Steve uses his kid voice with her. “You’ve gotta eat lots of grilled cheeses if you want to grow up to have strong bones and a beautiful smile like your mom's…” 
She gives him a sweet smile, “thank you… how much do I owe you?” 
“$2.25,” he does the quick tax math in his head, only counting the canned goods at a dollar a piece. She hands him a fiver anyway. 
“Keep the change, please?” She insists. 
He nods, “okay… come back for whatever you need. I’m here all the time and if I’m not here I’m probably just upstairs or next door…” 
“Have you lived here long?” 
He nods as he packs all their groceries into a paper bag. “My whole life. It’s been pretty crazy… but I like it here.” 
“We like it so far, don’t we, Lisa?” She asks her little girl. 
Lisa was a beautiful name, very common among girls her age now, but it fit her well. The little girl nodded her head, “we have a swing set at our house.” 
“Oh wow, you’re lucky,” he lets her live in the childhood wonderment of a new toy. Not overshadowing it with the fact he grew up with a pool… sometimes he missed that old part of his life and being a kid. But at least his 6 adopted buttheads were enjoying his old house now. 
“We’ve gotta get home and eat before bed, but thank you for all this, seriously,” she smiles. 
“Have a good night,” he waves them off, watching them leave happy.
Every part of him wanted to know more. Was it just the two of them? Did that little girl have a dad? Was her mom looking for someone to spend her life with? Cause if she was he was willing to do anything for her… most people would say Steve had a problem when it came to claiming he was in love at first sight, but something felt different this time. 
When his shift comes to an end, he locks up and grabs his things, headed for Nancy’s. Robin was off at school for the week, so it wasn’t like he could talk to her about it, and sure Vicky was at the apartment but that would be weird… they weren’t that great of friends even if they were around each other all the time because of Robin. 
Nancy was probably the only other person who understood him, and she also didn’t mind when he dropped by. Usually, he parks in the driveway beside her house, no one lived there, until today… his mystery woman was Nancy’s new neighbour, currently standing on the patch of grass that connected their two properties, meeting the woman Steve couldn’t stop thinking about. 
Nancy has a trash bag in her hand, the moon is just bright enough that he can see them both smiling as they talk, so he parks on the side of the road and hypes himself up enough to join their conversation. 
“Steve, hey!” Nancy waved to him once he got out of his car. “This is Steve, he owns most of the town…” 
“Most of the town?” She repeats Nancy's words. “I knew he worked at the novelty shop—
“How’d you know that, already?” Nancy asks. 
“I went over to get some spaghetti-o’s for dinner and he kindly gave us everything we needed to make grilled cheese too, Lisa was so happy, by the way,” she beams a smile at him. “I’m Y/N, by the way.” 
He extends his hand to shake hers, her skin is so soft, that he can’t help but linger while they look each other up and down. Nancy can tell already that this is going to be a thing, she knew that look in Steve's eyes, and surprisingly, Y/N had it too. 
“You guys settling in okay?” he finally asks. 
She nods, slowly pulling her hand away from his grip, “yeah, I just saw Nancy bringing the trash out and had some questions about getting rid of all my cardboard…” 
“You can bring it by the shop,” Steve offers. “We have a huge dumpster, it’s no problem.” 
“You’re too kind,” she can’t help but smile. 
“You don’t know the half of it,” Nancy boasts on his behalf. “Sure he owns most of the town, but he’s given it all to anyone who’s stayed in town. For example, his parents used to own the building that was the Hawkins post and now me and my husband run the newspaper and our other friend owns the Hellfire Studios, if Lisa’s interested in learning the guitar, Eddie is the best teacher.” 
“Wow, that’s amazing,” she’s blown away. “By any chance do you know who used to own the Motel 6? I’m trying to buy it…” 
“No, sorry,” Steve turns to Nancy, who also shakes her head. “But I’m sure I can help somehow?” 
“I’m sure,” she laughs. “You get off on helping people or something?” 
“Or something,” he’s honest with her, getting caught up in her beautiful eyes and how they glistened in the moonlight. 
“Um, Steve?” Nancy brings him back down to earth, “did you come over for something?” 
“Yeah,” he clears his throat quickly. “Robin's not home till Friday, so I thought I’d come over here to hang for a bit, is that okay?” 
“Yeah, absolutely,” she doesn’t care. “Can you put this in the can?” She pints at the garbage bin at the end of their driveway, handing him the black plastic bag. 
“Sure thing,” he takes it without another word. 
“I’ll let you go then, it was nice meeting you, Nancy,” Y/N waves her off. “You too, Steve.” 
“Hopefully we can talk more soon?” He asks while walking back down the driveway. 
“I’d like that,” she agrees and then skips back to her house. 
She gives him one last wave from her porch as Steve goes into Nancy’s house, further cementing the feelings he had for her already. He’s barely inside Nancy’s place 5 seconds when she’s jumping on him for answers. 
“She’s lived here 5 minutes and you’re already trying to get in her pants?” 
“I am not!” 
“You were practically eye fucking each other,” she exaggerates with the roll of her own eyes. “Seriously Steve, she’s a mother of 2.” 
“Two?” His eyes grow wide, “she only brought Lisa into the shop tonight?” 
“She’s clearly pregnant right now,” Nancy, of course, would notice that. “Did you seriously not see her stomach?” 
He shakes his head, “no, I was too busy helping her… I saw she had a kid and my brain went into provider mode. You know how I get, any kid that comes into my store could literally walk out with anything they wanted, I’m a sucker for happy families.”
“I mean, it doesn’t seem like she has a partner,” Nancy clues him in further. “The moving van didn’t have much in it, and it was just the two of them unpacking it all, so she could very well be looking for a step-dad for her kids?” 
“That’s what I was thinking,” he keeps his voice low. “That’s what I came to talk to you about, I didn’t expect her to be your new neighbour.” 
“And she’s trying to buy the motel?” Nancy recalls. “Weren’t you talking about investing in restoring it so that more people will be interested in travelling through Hawkins?” 
“Yeah,” he can’t help but smile. “I’ll call my guy down at the historical society, I’m sure he can help me get in contact with whoever still owns the property.” 
Nancy and he walked through the house, towards the kitchen where Will, Mike, El and Jonathan are all sitting around the kitchen table, having a few bowls of ice cream. “Hey Steve,” Jonathan notices him first, and the others give him a small wave. 
“Hey,” he takes a seat beside him, “did you meet the new neighbour yet?” 
“No, did you?” 
“We both did,” Nancy announces, “she’s super sweet, her name is Y/N and she has a little kid too, I think she said her name was Lisa?” 
“Yeah,” Steve smiles again. “She told me she’s really excited to have a swing set now.” 
“Those swings are awesome,” Will adds, remembering the good parts of his childhood that he had here, “we used to use them all the time whenever Mr. and Mrs. Linder weren't home.” 
“She’s really pretty,” Steve swoons. “Like, the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen in my life.” 
“The kid?” Mike asks, eyes wide in shock before Will smacks him. “Her mom, idiot.” 
Steve manages to laugh, “her name’s Y/N…” 
“That’s pretty,” El hardly had much to add but she smiles at him. “You’d make a good stepdad.” 
“Thanks,” it warms his heart. “I’ve always thought so, too.” 
ask to join my Steve taglist!!
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fastcardotmp3 · 1 year
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.ficlets
[back to main masterlist]
I've written so many ficlets and blurbs etc for these little weirdos that I could never find again once I posted them, so here's all of (what I could find) in one place! (mostly for my own organization and sanity, but hey, you can use it too mwah!) full-length fic masterlist meta and analysis masterlist ao3
Platonic and/or Pre-Slash
the Munsons' Indy 500 tradition
Max & the Munson family
Uncle Eddie
Spider-Eddie AU
Music Industry Stobin meet Tour Journalist Eddie
He's been here before, he'll be here again
Nancy & Eddie pre-S3 meeting
"The Bear" AU
Nancy & Barb "When your best friend dies young..."
Nancy "Comphet" Wheeler goes to a gay bar
Nancy & Eddie & Barb
Jonathan & El sibling bonding
Robin's second coming out
TLOU inspired apocalypse AU
Truman Show inspired AU
Steve & Barb reunion
college radio AU
The West Wing AU
Conspiracy Theorist outsider POV
Steve & Nancy: Adventurers
Nancy & Mike: No More Secrets
Stobin on the run
Nancy & Eddie: Christmas at the cemetery
Liminal space: Robin, gas station on a long mountain road
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Ronance
Ronance meets Immortality (part 2 here)
Ronance Letters AU
Kiki's Delivery Service AU
fool's gold
Good Omens AU
Generational listening
Horror Filmmaker!Nancy
Childhood Friends AU - Femslash Week 1
Getting together at the wrong time (and then the right time) - Femslash Week 2
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Steddie
One-Hit Wonder Eddie
the beauty of a steddie slow burn
Steddie non-soulmate soulmate AU
post-S4 memory-wipe AU
Steddie New Years Eve traditions
beauty and tragedy
pre-S4 Steddie, but Eddie still dies
Gilmore Girls AU
Model!Steve
Graphic Novelist!Eddie
Russian Doll AU
here we go again (microfic challenge, July)
butter cake (microfic challenge, August)
wildfire (microfic challenge, September)
more for your money (microfic challenge, October)
rest stop (microfic challenge, November)
fluke (microfic challenge, December)
Guts
long haul trucker Eddie comes home
Dancer!Steve AU
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Jargyle
Jargyle and the mortifying joy of Being Seen
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Stonathan
How could you think, darlin', I'd scare so easily?
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Wheelingham
Wheelingham S3 AU/ Chrissy candy striper AU
Chrissy Comes Back Wrong (1)
Chrissy Comes Back Wrong (2)
post-S2 AU
S4 AU Secret Relationship - Femslash Week 3
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formosusiniquis · 1 year
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Nancy is sick, sick of not being respected by the school newspaper. They call her a conspiracy theorist who is always looking for a story that doesn’t exist. They want to know why she can’t be content with covering the basketball district win or Mrs. O’Donnell’s twenty year teaching anniversary. Then someone spray paints a dick on every car in the staff parking lot. Twenty-seven dicks.
And everyone says it’s Eddie Munson.
Eddie is a stoner, a loudmouth, a delinquent, and insists on putting his shoes on cafeteria tables; but somehow Nancy just doesn’t see this being something Eddie did.
Principal Higgins and the rest of the Hawkins administration doesn’t seem to want to investigate any further. The paper has already published their piece on the matter. So Nancy decides she’s going to investigate this herself, not only that she’s going to come out with an expose proving Munson is innocent. A film expose, print media is dying anyway.
She recruits Robin Buckley, a band kid and jack of all trades, to operate the camera and she sets to work. She sticks her nose where it doesn’t belong, she digs into the Hawkins gossip mill determined to figure out who else could have done it. She doesn’t make friends.
Except Eddie kind of grows on her.
Robin kind of does too.
Except Robin, just like Nancy, is just as viable a suspect as about seven other people who led after school clubs and had a key to school -- which included access to the brand new security camera pointed at the staff parking lot.
Nancy Wheeler, Robin Buckley, Eddie Munson, Fred Benson, Chrissy Cunningham, Patrick McKinney.
Each of them had the opportunity and motive and Nancy thinks it’s important that they take the time to explore that. Robin doesn’t appreciate Nancy taking a logical look at her motivation, calling her out for her obvious crush on Chrissy and wanting to cancel prom so Chrissy can’t go with Jason. Nancy doesn’t appreciate how unseriously Robin is taking this. This is Nancy’s chance at something big. Sure, it’s no murder but felony vandalism is nothing to sneeze at, if she solves this people will finally take her seriously. Except Robin who thinks this whole thing is a joke. Who makes some bullshit little flipbook of Nancy drawing dicks on cars to give herself something to solve.
The part ways after that.
Nancy spends more time with Eddie. He’s funny. He helps her relax, not just with the weed but the contact high she gets hanging out with him and his friends is a nice bonus. He’s smart, smart enough she realizes that he could have done it if he wanted to.
She doesn’t want it to be Eddie. She doubles down. She makes up with Robin. They’re going to find out who really did this.
And she has it. She has it. She can prove, circumstantially, but enough that she’s sure she could get a confession from the actual perpetrator. When Eddie goes out and actually vandalizes Mrs. O’Donnell’s place, gets caught doing it by her neighbor. Hopper brings him in, Robin goes to deal with the neighbor while Nancy talks with Eddie. Talks to him about the expose, about how angry he felt about the way she made him out to be this burnout loser, the same kind of freak weirdo that everyone in school already thought he was, someone who’d been at Hawkins long enough to hold the grudge but not smart enough to actually get away with it. The only way they could even prove he was innocent was by proving how much of a fuckup loser he really was. Like anyone expected much better of a Munson.
Nancy isn’t sure what to do about the fact that all her project has really done is hurt people. She proved Eddie’s innocence at his own expense. She effectively outed Robin to the whole school, even if Robin says she forgives her, she aired half of the school’s dirty laundry and didn’t even officially catch who did it because no one will believe her now. Not when she’s got one more person calling for Eddie’s blood.
Some problems don’t have solutions. Some messes get made and can’t be cleaned up. But Nancy does her best. Nancy tries to do right by Eddie, tries to deserve some respect.
Also something, something Steve Harrington is Jenna Hawthorne. Something, something lonely, (queer), rich kid who puts up a cool, collected mask to keep the attention of others but is so desperate for love and affection that they accidentally get blackmailed into doing a felony by the person they thought loved them.
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averagestudent03 · 1 year
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I Know The End: Chapter Three, Erica Sinclair, The Menace.
(Pairing: Robin Buckley x fem!reader, stranger things rewrite)
(Word Count: 4.2k)
(AN: Welcome to Chapter Three! Stranger Things dialogue and all characters besides you belong to the Duffer Brothers. As always, comments, likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated, but not necessary! I would love to hear your thoughts if you have any, though, your comments make my day! This is my first story, so constructive criticism and opinions are always welcome! Comment if you'd like to be added to a tag list in the future, and thank you for reading! Enjoy!)
Series Warnings: swearing, jealousy, fear of abandonment, era-relevant homophobia, etc.
More warnings included in future chapters.
Series Masterlist
-------------------------------------------
30/06/1985
"...what does that mean?" Steve questioned, slowly dragging his eyes over the Henderson boy. 
Russians, to him, were an almost non-existent concept, having heard only of them in old literature and history classes where he wasn't quite paying attention. That, and the estranged ramblings of his classmates, obsessive conspiracy theorists. At the time, Steve never gave any of these ideas any thought. 
He hadn't needed to, because as far as he was concerned, Russians were much too far away to cause any real damage. Too far away to question, not near enough to provide any real threat to the Harrington boy or his safety. They were just that; thoughts. 
Now, Steve wasn't so sure.
It wasn't that he was dismissive of the idea, given that weirder things had happened over the years (right before his very eyes, in fact; Demogorgons, Demodogs, Nancy Wheeler leaving him for Jonathon Byers. Not that he held a grudge, or anything-) and he truly believed that he had seen it all. He wasn't, however, expecting secret Russians. 
They were very low on his list of current priorities.
Steadily, and rather swiftly rising, thanks to the ramblings of the boy beside him.
"It means, Steve, that we could be heroes." He spoke, not an air of disturbance in his tone. Simply carelessness, and a little bit of hope. Excitement, that maybe he could help this time, rather than being shoved on the side-lines. He could practically see it already.
Dustin Henderson: Hero of Hawkins.
"True, American heroes." His words were becoming more and more enticing by the second, Harrington getting quickly lost in the fantasy that Dustin had concocted. You simply rolled your eyes, aware of the danger the situation presented, hoping that Steve had the same sense you did to dismiss it as a coincidence, something only slightly out of character for Hawkins.
Instead, he did the opposite, only playing into and encouraging the wild ideas further.
"Idiots." You murmured, heading back to the sundae that you had temporarily disregarded in order to monitor their conversation.
"Huh." Steve mumbled, lips quirking upwards with every passing second as Dustin relished in the validation.
"Mhm." Dustin confirmed, perfectly content with leaving you to your own devices, as your eyes began to stray to Robin Buckley once more.
"American heroes?" Steve questioned, steadily trying to learn more. From the way Dustin had presented the idea, he was beginning to believe that this would be a vacation. A holiday from the horror that Hawkins held, an easy accomplishment that would quickly preserve the tatters of his reputation. Newspapers stitching back together his unravelling life, line by line. 
"Just think," Dustin started, watching closely as Steve leaned forwards, "you could have all the ladies you want. And more-"
God, and the girls.
Steve hadn't even considered yet, but since the thought had been sprung on him, he could only envision himself at one of his infamous house parties, girls once again hanging from his arms as he recalled the tall tales of the time he fought the evil Russians. 
He could shove it in Robin Buckley's and Tommy Hagan's faces, reassuring them that King Steve was far from gone, only taking a small break before returning to full glory.
He was beginning to like this idea more and more.
"More?" He muttered, curious smile creeping onto Steve's face.
"More."
"I like more." He nodded, slowly indulging the younger boy in his ingenious ideas.
"Mhm."
"What's the catch?" Steve wondered aloud, waiting for the consequences to run and slap him upside the head for being so delusional. For allowing himself to live in this ideal reality too long.
"No catch, I just need your help." Steve quickly let out a breath he didn't even realise he was holding, glancing over to you before looking back at Dustin.
"With what?" He questioned, and you turned to attempt to explain, swiftly and rudely interrupted by the Henderson boy.
"Translation." He murmured, smirking as he pulled a small, worn with age Russian dictionary from his bag.
"Are you in on this too?" Steve chuckled, looking back at you.
"No, Harrington," You started, immediately catching Robin's attention as sarcasm coated your words in a thick bubble, "I just happened to bring Henderson here, knowing him and his lack of a filter; Oh! And homed him for the entirety of last night without having a clue about what's going on."
"So yes, then."
"Yes, Steve."
"Right. Good, good, because I wasn't-I wasn't clear on that." He fumbled, desperate to once again save face. He had no worries, no concerns with the plan whatsoever, only entirely focused on the image of him leaned over his parent's sofa, accompanied by girls galore.
One on his lap, one with an arm tossed around his shoulders, others clinging frantically to any piece of him they could clamber onto. In this reality, he'd look Billy Hargrove in the eye, watching as he once again pushed another boy from grace. Steve had done it before, and he'd be more than happy to do it again.
Only the issue with this plan was that Billy Hargrove was no longer himself. Slumped over, sweating heavily in a black t-shirt (different to his usual lack of a shirt, though not that the residents of Hawkins minded that much,) as he looked over the pool he was meant to be watching.
Billy Hargrove didn't exactly feel like watching.
He didn't exactly feel like Billy Hargrove, if he was being truthful, but that was a matter for another time. Now, the boy was focused on controlling the pounding in his head. 
He couldn't remember when he'd arrived at the pool, or anything from the night prior. He'd planned to meet Mrs. Wheeler for a slightly immoral rendezvous, flashes of Brimborn Steelworks racing through his head, and then a sudden and overwhelming pitch-black taking over.
It was as if someone had reached into his brain, twisted fingertips scratching at every unclaimed corner of his mind, and plucked the memories from his skull. A blank nothingness. As if they'd been encased in bubbles, floating higher and higher, only to pop just out of reach.
It felt as if someone had taken a power drill to the side of his head, forcing it in amongst the flesh and bone. He couldn't think, couldn't speak, only mumbling incoherently as he lifted a hand up to the side of his skull.
" 'M sorry," He mumbled, over and over, apologising for actions that weren't his own until a whisper forced itself to the forefront of his mind, and everything went dark again.
Billy Hargrove definitely wasn't himself.
Of course, that was no issue for Steve Harrington, simply imagining the priceless look on his face as he tore down the Californian boy's legacy, moment by moment. He would smile, watching intently as to not miss a second of the boy falling from his tower, much like he had. 
A whimsical tune overscored the hours as they passed by at Scoops, melody playing and replaying over in their minds. For Steve, it was becoming unbearable. Like an itch that he couldn't quite scratch, the notes making him groan and leaving him wanting to slam his head against the nearest hard surface.
For Robin, it was an entirely different matter. Although it was irritating, she'd admit that at the very least, even the tempo was soothing. The structured beats, the controlled rhythms. Music was something that Robin Buckley knew all too well, more than happy to allow the melody to embrace her.
The added bonus to this was that having you within her vicinity didn't drive her mad. She simply focused on the tune and the nonsensical words of her customers, serving mint chocolate-chip a thousand times as she forced every thought of you from out of her head. 
Having you less than a metre away was ideal, and she wanted you to stay there. Permanently.
She wanted you to stay closer, wrapped to her side if you could. She wanted you to hang from her arm, fawning over her words the way girls previously fawned over the King of Hawkins High. She wanted herself to invade every part of your thoughts, the way you did hers. 
She wanted you close, but she was content with leaving you only a moment's notice away.
She wasn't as content leaving you in close proximity with Steve Harrington. 
It wasn't as though she didn't trust you, and she was more than aware that she didn't own you, but the thought of Steve Harrington touching you; even addressing you, made rage bubble beneath her skin.
She didn't want Steve Harrington to take anything else from her.
He'd taken enough, allowing Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins to terrorise her for the past 14 years, leaving her stranded and sobbing in the middle of the school bathrooms. They'd taken her reputation, Carol Perkins having gotten a hold of her diary a few years back, beginning the rumour that Robin Buckley might just be a lesbian.
The way she'd said it had made the girl seethe, Carol whispering the syllables as if it were wrong, something monstrous. She'd said lesbian the same way you'd say neo-fascist or The Cold War.
The whispers had grabbed Robin Buckley, sinking their teeth in before she had chance to deny anything. They had ruined her, and in turn, she was rather weary of Steve Harrington. She knew he'd never done anything, but he stood there and never once defended her, so he had taken her childhood too.
She didn't want him to take you, either.
She hoped that you had the common sense to avoid the boy's advances, and somewhere (deep in her brain, she would never allow herself to have such a thought willingly,) she even wished that you despised them. Loathed them the same way she did, longing for her embrace and her embrace alone.
Just the thought had her gritting her teeth, snarky attitude seeping from her pores as she stared down the rather irritating face of Erica Sinclair.
They'd grown to recognise the girl, perfectly aware that she never intended to pay for any ice cream, existing purely to criticise them and make their lives a living hell.
She smirked, watching as Robin Buckley unwittingly handed over what was one of many samples, mint chocolate-chip coating the spoon. She glanced up at the worker, humming as though she were genuinely considering something, before blurting out:
"Can I try the peppermint stick?"
Robin nearly cried.
"Haven't you already tried the peppermint stick?" She choked out through a smile that looked more like a grimace, gritted teeth attempting to restrain the words, replacing them with something much more explicit.
"Yes, and I'd like to try it again." She spoke, commanding the worker with a simple sentence. She stared Robin down, glaring at her whilst her friends giggled in the background, finding the whole scene amusing.
Robin rolled her eyes, tossing her head back and shouting for the Harrington boy, liked she'd done many times before.
She refused to deal with the menace whilst he was hanging back there, having the time of his life and getting to indulge in conversations with you. It wasn't fair.
"Steve!" The name tumbled from her mouth with an irritated groan, not breaking the boy from his thoughts as he took another bite of the banana in his hand, pacing the room. 
They had heard the translation over, and over, and over again, and Steve was starting to feel like a caged rat. The four metal walls surrounding him gave him no comfort or relief, forcing the words to echo whilst he struggled to find anything remotely similar.
"So, what do you think?" Dustin asked, sat at the table staring up at the boy in the sailor's uniform. 
"It sounded familiar." He mumbled, shoving another piece of banana into his mouth. Less than five minutes of listening to it, and Dustin's patience was a thin line that Steve was stomping all over.
"What?"
"The music- The music right there, at the end?" He spoke, reaching a hand to brush through his hair, Dustin's eyes widening as he immediately started throwing accusations at the boy.
"Why are you listening to the music, Steve?" He demanded, raising an eyebrow before continuing, "Listen to the Russian!"
"We're translating Russian!" He insisted, slamming a hand on the table, gesturing wildly to the dictionary and the recording device.
"I'm trying to listen to the Russian! But there's music-" Steve exclaimed, quickly fighting Dustin's claims as you leant back against one of the shelves, finding something, anything to keep you preoccupied.
"Alright, babysitting time is over-" Robin stormed in, swiftly slamming the door behind her before rushing over to one of the sides, having lost her nerve a while back. She was unable to deal with the utter disappointment that she believed to be Erica Sinclair.
"You need to get in there!" She spoke, waving the dirty scoop about, having not caught your gaze just yet. Your eyes remained trained on her, though, following as she seethed; you could practically feel the annoyance radiating from her.
She stopped, glancing at the whiteboard that had previously held her 'You Rule' vs. 'You Suck', disappointingly finding it empty with scribbles of the Russian alphabet traced messily as best as they could.
"Hey, my board! That was important data, shitbirds." She spun around, gesturing to the red scrawled over the white, glaring at the boys.
"I guarantee you, what we're doing is way more important than your data." Dustin gloated, a condescending tone gracing the air as you sighed, dropping your head into your hands as trying to avoid the girl's wrath.
Steve quickly finished off the banana, crossing his arms and stepping forward to protect the child sat at the table, watching closely as Robin stepped forwards.
"Yeah? And how do you know these Russians are up to no good, anyways?" She questioned, clearly mocking the arrogant manner in which Dustin had addressed her. His jaw dropped, eyes narrowing in order to glare at her, attempting an interrogative stare.
She smirked, looking down at him as he glanced at Steve, looking desperately for reassurance, beginning to panic internally.
"She can hear you-" You started, quickly interrupted by her.
"....how does she know about the Russians?"
"I don't know-"
"You told her about-?"
"It wasn't me!" They quarrelled, taunting lines bickering back and forth between the two before you finally jumped to your feet, startling the girl slightly.
"Actually, I can hear everything. You are both extremely loud!" She grinned, sarcastic smile plastered onto her face as she nodded, as if she were speaking to toddlers.
"You think you have evil Russians, plotting against our country, on tape," She started, stepping forward to punctuate each syllable. She seemed to be on the right track, and you weren't about to comment on the forced disbelief in her tone, despite the fact you knew the threat was real.
No need to drag another person into the mess for no good reason, especially one as pretty as Robin Buckley.
"...and you're trying to translate, but haven't figured out a single word," she continued, almost chuckling at the shocked look across Dustin's face as the realisation that she knew began to sink in.
"Because you didn't realise the Russians use an entirely different alphabet than we do." She finished, Steve returning Dustin's horrified expression as you began to laugh quietly, giggling at the absurdity of the situation.
"Sound about right?"
She quickly reached forwards, attempting to grab the tape recorder before being quickly stopped by Steve, reaching out his hand to cover it.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! What do you think you're doing?" He accused, glaring at her as she stpped back slightly.
"I wanna hear it."
You simply leaned back, knowing that she would be more of use than either of the other two idiots in the room.
"Why?" Both of them questioned, apalled at the idea of someone bar them figuring it out.
"Because maybe she can help-" You interrupted, all three of them turning to look at you as the room silenced.
"...if she wants to, that is." You quickly fixed the comment, backtracking slightly as you realised you hadn't given her much of an out. However, if Robin Buckley wanted to help, she was going to help, so you may as well try and accept it as quickly as possible.
The comment stopped her in her tracks, having almost entirely forgotten you were there.
"She's fluent in fou- four?" You glanced over at her, quickly nodding and confirming your statement before your gaze returned to the boys, "Four languages."
"Russian?" Dustin asked hopefully, Robin still slightly taken aback as to how you knew something like that.
"Ou-yay are-yay umb-day." She responded, smirking slightly as you chuckled, quickly realising what was going on. You'd heard her speak Pig Latin to one of her friends in English enough to know that it most definitely wasn't Russian, but was the closest sounding alternative in comparison to the other three.
They both started laughing, jaws dropping as they both came to the stunning conclusion that this nightmare could be done with quicker than they had hoped.
"Holy shit!" Dustin exclaimed, looking over at you only for his face to fall when you weren't appreciating her skills in the same way.
"That was Pig Latin, dingus." She muttered, smile back on her face, but a genuine one this time. 
You much preferred it to the false, mocking one she wore to protect her dignity.
Steve quickly hit Dustin with the banana peel, Henderson pulling away to look up at him, slightly offended, as Steve muttered something along the lines of "Idiot." under his breath.
"But," She started, "I can speak Spanish, and French, and Italian-"
"And she's been in band for ages." You chimed in, her briskly nodding to agree with you, slightly shocked that you'd ever even noticed her.
You'd been to every concert she'd played in the last two years, hiding in the stands and applauding her musical capability.
"My ears are little geniuses, trust me."
"Uh-" Steve murmured, slightly hesitant to let her take over.
The reason had nothing to do with him not wanting to deal with Erica Sinclair, not at all.
Purely because he didn't trust Robin Buckley with something so important.
No alternative motives whatsoever.
"Come on!" She begged, "It's your turn to sling ice cream, my turn to translate. I don't even want credit, I'm just bored."
She leaned over, handing Steve the metal scoop as he winced at the sound of a child pressing the bell for assistance. He sighed, passing her the tape recorder and unwittingly taking the scoop, disappearing back to behind the counter.
She began to pace, Dustin playing the tape over and over again, tilting his head back and letting a small groan of annoyance slip past his lips. It had only been a few minutes, but without the older Harrington boy, time seemed to move slower. He had gotten used to spending time with you, but found talking much easier with Steve, especially when you were only half-convinced about the whole plan to begin with.
"Wait, that last part, play that last part again-" Robin insisted, pointing at the device as Dustin re-winded it, blaring the older Russian man out for the entire room to hear.
She clicked her fingers, tasting how the words felt on her lips before she began to speak again, giving the boy a strict set of instructions.
"Okay, that word, um, it's pronounced 'dly-nna-yna'," She started, ignoring as the boy tried the pronunciation out for himself.
"Which is spelled," She spoke, Dustin quickly scurrying over to the whiteboard to match the letters with the alphabet.
"The-the chair! The chair-looking thingy!" He shouted, Robin flicking through the dictionary as you scrambled to write down the translation on a spare scrap piece of paper, covered in games of noughts and crosses that you'd played with yourself to cure your own boredom.
"Yeah, okay," she mumbled, dragging her fingertips across the crinkled pages. They spent the next twenty minutes repeating the process, leaving you to pick up the pieces as they shouted random words and syllables.
Robin practically cried out when you'd read the full line, snatching the notebook from your fingers without thinking, immediately apologising for doing so before she rushed to the window, desperate to show Steve.
"We've got our first sentence." She bragged, a smug looking crossing her face as she slid the window open, Steve looking back at her in disbelief.
"Oh, seriously?" He turned, approaching her with both a pink and a yellow ice cream cone in hands.
"The week, is long." She taunted, phrasing it in a thick, stereotypical Russian accent as Steve's face dropped.
"Well that's thrilling." He deadpanned, looking slightly disappointed.
"I know." She swiftly responded, grin refusing to remove itself from her face, flashing him a dazzling smile.
"But, progress!" She exclaimed, rushing back to join both you and Dustin as she slammed the window shut again.
He sauntered back to the counter, attending to both Max Mayfield and Eleven, stood expectantly at the counter as they reached for the ice cream, giggling to one another.
"Thanks." They replied in unison, Steve giving them a once over before realising that the two girls probably shouldn't be out in public, or anywhere outside of their houses given that one of them was a threat to national security. Still, here she was, wearing a new jumpsuit with colourful shapes matching the floor of the arcade you worked at. He grumbled something nonsensical at them, hesitating to question them as they both gave each other a knowing look, disappearing without another thought.
He figured that he'd let it slide, just this once.
Meanwhile, Robin had successfully avoided the wrath of the Henderson boy, leaving him to his own devices as he worked out a system to translate the code faster. Instead, she found herself making her way over to you.
You'd spoken maybe a handful of times, visits and moments stretched across the entirety of the town, and you left your mark so vividly that she could now no longer walk across the length of her street before finding something that reminded her of you.
"Hey." She rasped out, slumping next to you, watching as you quickly hid the notebook, flicking to a random page. The hurt settled comfortably in Robin's stomach, worried that you didn't trust her.
Of course you didn't, you didn't even know her.
Realistically, you were hiding a messily sketched drawing of the girl, your initials and hers encased in hearts around the page. It was embarrassing, cliche behaviour but you really couldn't find it in yourself to care, overjoyed that you were able to drift off into your head and imagine a world where the two of you were safe.
Not just safe, but happy, too. 
A world where you woke up together in tangled bedsheets every morning, trailing each other's heels to the shower before fumbling downstairs amidst stray kisses, relishing in each other's presence. 
"Hi." You heard yourself say, not entirely present, getting lost in your head once more. The girl took to fidgeting with her necklaces again, throwing you a small smile as you glanced her way.
"Great way to spend a day, right?" She chuckled in response, nodding and looking briefly over to Henderson, pacing and stressing himself out to no end.
"It's ridiculous. You really believe this shit?"
"I've seen worse, so yeah. I figured there's no harm in giving them this, just this once." You grinned, and she felt her heart stop.
"Yeah. Yeah, makes sense, I guess. How did you-" She started, having held off on the question as long as she humanly could. however, Robin Buckley was nothing if not impatient. She was rather good at goodbyes, hurrying a conversation along rather than enjoying the awkward silences that came with a change of topic.
In fact, she liked to pride herself into thinking that she was the best at goodbyes. So good, that the person was often left confused at the abrupt ending, Buckley having already mentally checked out and finishing the conversation herself.
"Know you spoke different languages?" You questioned, raising an eyebrow. She simply nodded, waiting for your answer.
"You were loud when you wanted to be, and you swore at your friend, a lot-" You explained, perfectly content with listening to the girl's rambling for hours.
"I uh- I sat near you, English in Mrs. O'Donnel's and Mr's Click's -"
"History class! Yeah, I remember you! You always sat at the back, a few desks away from mine." She grinned, basking in the nostalgia of just knowing you.
"Oh. Sorry." She started, before she was quickly interrupted.
"Not like, in a bad way! God, you were the most interesting part of that class, please don't think I hated it- I tried learning French so I could guess what you were saying, sometimes. I got as far as telling someone I liked Ice Cream and hated lobsters, and that's about it." She chuckled, her disappointment from the sentence before dissipating into nothingness.
"Do you?"
"Do I what?" You froze, unaware of the question.
"Hate lobsters?" She questioned, moving slightly closer to you as you flushed red, looking down at the notebook once more.
"...absolutely love 'em." She shook her head, flipping a random coin she'd found in her pocket as she laughed, truly baffled at the idea of you attempting to learn French.
"You worked at the library, too, didn't you?" 
"Yeah, for like a week! I mainly just helped out, for the most part-" You scrambled for the right words debating between giving her the bare minimum and explaining your entire life story, deciding on a few insignificant details to tide the girl over.
"You don't any more?"
"No, I just don't think it would've worked out, walked in on Steve and Nancy way too many times for my liking." You shyly admitted, glancing over at the closed window where Steve's silhouette dashed around, accommodating rude customers.
"Where do you work now?" She asked, taking a deep breath as she watched the gears turn in your head.
"The uh- the arcade, it's how I met Henderson and the others. Why?" You smiled, glancing over at her, only to find her eyes already transfixed on you. 
"I'll have to come visit, sometime." She gave you a wide grin, pulling herself to her feet, leaving you a blushing mess to go and help Dustin, notebook long forgotten on the floor.
Robin Buckley would be the death of you, you were sure.
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light-lanterne · 1 year
Text
shitpost of the day: in s1 mike mentioned that ted believed the lab to be a place where the government developed weapons. in s4, we see that ted doesn't believe the earthquake story whatsoever.
ergo, ted wheeler is one step away from being a conspiracy theorist.
ergo, ted wheeler is half-a-step away from ending up as a pair with our favourite conspiracy theorist, murray bauman.
(imagine the horror mike and nancy would feel upon realising that ted is getting along with murray, of all people. ted would be like "nancy, how come you never told me you knew such a smart gentleman?" and she'd want to scream. as for mike,,, he'd be convinced his father had gone batshit crazy; perhaps possessed by something from the upside down; and he'd beg hopper to please just send the mad men away)
((bonus imagine: ted is often vocal about his distaste for russians and the extended party now has two of them in its ranks, so imagine mike and dustin manipulating plans just so murray and ted end up with dimitri and yuri as they deal with the apocalypse))
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bugsbenefit · 1 year
Text
okay i'm back on my Wheeler parenting style bs but it's seriously so interesting to me. because every family we get has a very distinct and different dynamic and parenting style and the Wheelers get an unusual amount of screentime compared to all the other families that aren't directly plot relevant so were naturally seeing more of their family dynamic. overall there's:
Lucas has the arguably healthiest home life, with both his parents seeming happy, loving, and entirely supportive of their kids. Lucas can ask them for advice freely. which you can also see reflected in Lucas' A+ conflict resolution skills
Will also has a really supportive family but because of his experiences with the UD he also describes his family as suffocating at times. meaning well, but also coddling him at times
Max comes in with the more actively extreme case. until Billy dies in s3 she's living in an actively abusive to toxic household where half the family is unpleasant to be around at best and at worst an actual danger
Dustin's a father being completely out of the picture isn't portrayed as either something good or bad. but his mom, while clueless, is loving, asking how he is and tries to support him and his hobbies (even if she doesn't get them)
...and then you have Mike where the entire joke is that his parents don't really care about what him and Nancy do. they're not an actively abusive household like Max's, they're not supportive like the Sinclairs or Byers and they don't even fall into the oblivious support category Dustin's mom accomplishes, because They Don't Care. that's the whole joke. it's literally The running gag. no other family becomes the butt of the joke like them and we get consistent reminders of that dynamic in every season
they miss their 12 year old hiding an entire person in their house in s1 (they really leave him alone in that basement). they don't even notice her up in his room. and their obliviousness to that is so frustrating when Brenner visits them and dumps the news on them
but they learn Nothing from that because just a year later their kids disappear again and they don't even care they're gone for 3 full days. Mike is busy almost dying in the second lab massacre in the last 6 years (that place has a horrible track record holy shit), and Nancy is out of state in a conspiracy theorists bunker. but Karen and Ted are happy with the explanation that they're at "Will's and Ally's" for an undetermined amount of time and never question that further
and maybe Karen Does learn a bit now because she tries to bond with Nancy on personal issues in s3, which is a good start. but in the meantime her other kid (who she's apparently still expecting to "come to her when he's ready") is trapped in a mall with a human meat monster and almost dies AGAIN
honestly no wonder Karen is so relieved to see Mike alive by the end of season 4 because she ended almost all previous seasons realizing how bad things were. because that's the Thing. the Wheelers DO continuously find out that something's going on, they just choose to look away. the absent parenting style is a CHOICE
in s1 they can SEE how bad Mike is doing when he comes home after thinking he saw Will's body, which gets him a hug and 0 talks or help after
by the end of s1 they're TOLD Mike hid a dangerous person in their house and they never address that further
at some point post s2 they have to HEAR about the weird massacre at the local lab that happened just as their kids were missing. it's locked off and closed down after so some news must have come out
by the end of s3 their kids end up in the parking lot of the burning local mall in the middle of the night. how are their kids involved? how did this happen? were they just dropped off at home by Owen's men in the middle of the night? since they still don't know anything in s4 those questions apparently weren't discussed very well
and after s3 they have to undoubtedly READ about the missing cases in town that all fell victim to the MeatFlayerTM
but they're SO good at looking away
they choose to wait until their young children approach them for help instead of offering. they never follow up on potential danger they were in. they just keep going and ignoring obvious problems or inconsistencies at hand. when Mike starts acting out in s2 after seeing El "die" they deal with the inconvenient consequences by punishing him instead of trying to ask questions
their whole parenting style is avoidant, it's seriously so bad. from a child developmental perspective they're following the perfect guide on what parenting styles are Not recommended
only season 4 seems to finally snap them back to reality, but it takes the entire town starting a satanic withhunt against their son for them to finally realize they should probably DO something
and Karen and Ted's ability to just look away is so interesting to me honestly because of how much our attention is drawn to it. it comes back as a consistent joke almost every season. they don't know where their kids are or what they're going through. they don't even know about the UD despite the headquarters of operations literally being right under their noses (their actual basement). from a writing perspective that choice was probably another joke about the Wheelers inattentiveness
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redflagsandbanners · 2 years
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Concept _ The year's 1998. Hawkins, Indiana.
PI Robin Buckley x Jurnalist Nancy Wheeler
Two years ago, local private investigator Robin Buckley solved the cold case of Terry Ives' long, lost daughter -- finding the twelve-year-old kid in Hawkins Lab, all the while charging everyone involved with the violation of a decent number of civil rights, kidnapping and experimenting on children.
Since then, the only real case Robin has solved, is how much is the most money she can make when presenting evidence to cheated wives and cheated husbands and wrecking their already wrecked households with some stalking and photos taken in the night.
Fresh and bright after publishing a career changing story on Boston’s biggest newspaper, journalist Nancy Wheeler searches for the next case to follow through. The thing is, unmasking of a Soviet, military base, buried underneath Boston’s newest Commercial Mall, means phonecalls and attention from fellow journalists all the way from goddamn DC.
It would be great --- if she hadn't had to choose the Soviets over a relationship with a woman that, if the times or Nancy's job were any different, she could have very well been the one to build a life with. With the big story published, Nancy thinks she deserves some months of writing at her own pace while processing the intense breakup.
After a series of child murders suddenly haunts Hawkins, the small town community paints the suspect -- nineteen-year-old Eddie Munson -- as Satan's vessel of destruction and leader of a cult performing the seemingly sacrifice rituals.
Private Investigator Robin Buckley thinks the serial killer's profile doesn't describe the poor kid, Eddie. The pack of gremlins defending their older friend and apparent mentor through high school, and proclaiming him innocent, grabs her attention.
Journalist Nancy Wheeler thinks this is possibly the best case to write about after the Russians; uncovering a serial killer in her childhood city, studying the complexity of religious motives and proving small-town-assholery absolutely wrong.
Neither of them expect a partnership or -- well -- falling in love.
Notes _
They are on their early thirties.
"Aren't you supposed to be the city’s hero?" "No, huh... that's Police Chief Jim Hopper". "So who are you supposed to be?" "City's... conspiracy theorist with a PI license?"
"You don't remember me, why would you remember me, we never talked back in--" "You were playing the trumpet in band. Sat way back in chemistry class. Doodled your shoes". "..." "..." "...what the f--"
The kids are sixteen. Eddie and Steve are both nineteen. Just for the fun of the dynamic.
Autistic Robin Buckley.
Closeted bisexual Nancy Wheeler.
Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism (because i want the complexity of poor coping mechanisms to trauma i am so sorry)
We're stepping into the '90s for a change.
Murray Bauman.
Slowburn.
Resentful Allies to Friends to Lovers.
With a supernatural twist in the middle of the investigation, where they discover the Upside-Down completely on accident and freak the fuck out.
Vecna is the Bad Guy, but make the theme that of a True Crime novel. The psychic powers come as a secondary detail to the Serial Killer whole character study.
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sleepy-moron · 2 years
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All the poster characters from season four of stranger things but I assign them 1 Pokémon each based on vibes:
Karen- Leavanny: noted for being an exceptionally maternal Pokémon, it even makes clothes out of leaves for its young….also fits the green theming the wheelers have got going on in this au which is fun.
Joyce- Pyroar: Specifically noted as being good mothers and protecting their young extremely fiercely… plus cats are supposed to be able to pick up on things other things don’t so Joyce being a lion fits her imo
Hopper- Camerupt: Hop can have an……explosive temper but mostly I just picture a very unimpressed looking volcano camel following hop around and staring into the camera like it’s on the office. Big crotchety old man vibes and that suits hop.
Murray- Beheeyem: Murray is literally a conspiracy theorist and this is the Pokémon equivalent of the men in black how could I not give him this…..also an underrated personal favorite psychic type
Steve- Floatzel: I sat here for ages trying to think of a Pokémon for Steve and then I realized floatzel works really well+ it’s literally described as making an effort to save people that are drowning so clearly it has the proper protective instincts and I can just see Steve chilling with this dude
Robin- Chatot: A music note themed parrot that can replicate and as they age understand human speech?? Yeah this suits robin pretty well, plus one of its possible abilities is tangled feet which suits Robin’s general lack of coordination.
Eddie- Obstagoon: This is Gene Simmons as a Pokémon….not a ton of lore but it’s a punk used by the “evil” team in gen 8 and it suits him
Nancy- Gardevoir: Looks pretty and feminine (ie pre s1 nancy), loyal and will summon a black hole to protect its trainer, has some knight inspiration as well….overall very strong and cool Pokémon, plus her and mike have Pokémon with similar color schemes
Johnathan- Male meowstic: said to have awakened its psychic powers out of a need to protect itself, and must restrain itself to not wreak havoc with these powers. Males are highly protective of those they care about and are hesitant to fight unless those people are in danger.
Argyle- Alolan Raichu: chill surfer dude vibes and the fact that I can just imagine a lil Raichu floating around next to Argyle while he’s making the grave for the agent man and is helping to decorate it. I just think the energies are the same.
Erica- Galarian ponyta: Look me dead in the eyes and tell me Erica would not have this as a Pokémon……you can’t because it’s true!!
Dustin- Rotom: mischievous electric ghost that possesses electronics and is smart enough to cause havoc….also it’s heavily associated with befriending children with a knack for tinkering and engineering in Pokémon so it’s pretty reasonable that one would take a liking to Dustin.
Lucas- Luxray: (might be a touch of bias because I adore the shinx line and I have a shiny luxray) Lucas is usually the one in the party to scout out situations for danger…..he’s also pretty good at seeing through people and luxray can see through walls which is great for someone who uses long range weaponry
Max- Crobat: Fast and agile flying type that starts out as a super common annoying cave encounter but through the power of friendship evolutions becomes a really cool and powerful Pokémon. The Pokémon I gave Mike is also 4x weak to crobat as well which is funny.
Mike- Chesnaught: literally an armored knight that shields loved ones with its own body, and its (formerly?) signature move is spiky shield so it is spot on for how prickly and defensive Mike is… also I think him and Will both having stuff from the gen 6 starter trio is cute
Will- Delphox is literally a traditional fantasy wizard with fire powers…..The gen 6 starters are literally based around an rpg party it’s too perfect and Will did have a dog at some point so having a fox Pokémon tracks + I gave all the Byers psychic or fire types
El- Type Null or Marshadow: Null makes more sense since it was modified in a lab for use as a weapon before breaking out, and it reaches its evolution through high friendships. Marshadow just really reminds me of s1 El for some reason….both work fine but I would probably say type null is the more official choice.
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hawkinstm · 2 years
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good evening, tags ! i just had a fantastic nap & i’m going to be on the main for a while so come and check us out ! we are a semi appless stranger things au rp that takes place one year after vecna was “defeated” and the “earthquake” that followed . we’re have many canons open and are currently looking for : lucas sinclair, nancy wheeler, steve harrington, jonathan byers, jim hopper, robin buckley & many more ! we’d also love to see some of your ocs that could have helped during the rebuild , outsiders, and conspiracy theorists alike ! 
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musicalchaos07 · 1 year
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Stranger Things Older Teens Moodboards
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softpng · 7 years
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this is what happened right?
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