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unicyclehippo · 2 years

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prompt: stuffed animal

this is smth im working on for my 3blts story, here u go

‘Boy troubles?’

Nancy’s mum leans against the frame of her bedroom door, smiles down at Nancy. She’s sitting in front of her dresser, all the drawers open and empty, her clothes laid out in precise piles all around her.

It’s been an all-day affair, sorting what she’s willing to part with for donation, what she wants to keep, and what is too old and worn for either; she would have been finished a long time ago – should have been finished – but the methodical pull, examine, fold, re-fold, set aside was the only thing keeping her mind from dwelling on more dangerous things. So, when she had reached the bottom drawers of her dresser she had slowed in an effort to keep her work going. It hadn’t helped. The memories still came for her, despite her best efforts to focus on folding her pyjamas. The creases were crisp now, like she had ironed them, and still she trying to tug them into perfect neatness. She looked up from the soft flannel, fingers twisted into the fabric and ruining her work.

‘Sorry – what?’

‘Boy troubles?’ her mum repeats, craning her head to look around the room at clear shelves and an empty, open wardrobe. ‘You haven’t tidied this much since you were breaking it off with Steve,’ she points out kindly. ‘Helps you think, doesn’t it?’

‘I – yeah. It does.’

‘Do you want to talk about it?’

‘No. No, I’m fine, really.’

‘Is it Jonathan?’

‘Jonathan is fine.’

‘Steve?’

‘We’re just friends.’

‘Oh.’ Her mum smiles teasingly, lifts a brow. ‘Someone new?’

‘God, mum, no! I said it’s not about a boy!’

Her mum blinks. Instead of a look of disapproval and leaving, as Nancy expects, she watches in shock as her mum steps inside and picks her way across the room to sit, cross-legged – in what might be the last clear space on her bedroom floor, a few feet from Nancy. Her smile fades to something concerned. Nancy avoids it. Shakes out the flannel pants and refolds them.

‘Okay,’ she says softly. ‘It’s not about a boy. Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Nancy,’ she says, chides, and her eyes skim across the piles Nancy has made. The donations box is almost full, despite having half-emptied her closet in those first weeks after the earthquake. Clothes, empty picture frames, the last of her stuffed animals. ‘Please don’t lie to me.’

‘There’s nothing wrong,’ she repeats, voice clipped. Even saying it, Nancy knows it’s not good enough. She blinks, pulls at her tattered attention until she can spin up a good story. ‘Mrs. Woldly—the new mayor’s secretary, have you met her? I interviewed her last year, when I was writing an article on town hall. She was organising that bridge tournament, remember?’ Nancy sets her pyjamas down. Reaches for a nightgown—light blue patterned with faint purple flowers. ‘She’s running the shelter on Briarcliff now and called to see if there’s anything we could part with—’

‘Nancy.’

Her mum leans forward, catches Nancy’s hand; the sudden move makes Nancy flinch and she knows her mum sees it because her blue eyes go wide and terrified and sad, and her thumb strokes gently over the back of Nancy’s hand in hers.

‘Nancy, you can talk to me,’ she says, and the words made Nancy flinch.

Nancy, you can talk to me, she had said, just the same, all those years ago. Barb missing, and Nancy confused and tired and feeling exactly the same as she had before sleeping with Steve—not at all changed, or grown up, or in love like she had expected—and angry at herself for all of that, angry at her mum for looking at her like she knew, like she knew something was different immediately. Like all her missteps were on display for anyone to see if they looked hard enough. Nancy couldn’t bring herself to say the words back then—she is different, she’s a friend abandoning slut, she got her best friend killed because she wanted to be young and stupid and not think for once, and that’s what it got her.

She’s glad she hadn’t.

She wishes she had, that she could have. It would have been nice, letting her mum handle everything. Idly, she wonders if her mum would have banished monsters as easily as she banishes stains from the dinner tablecloth and the thought makes her laugh, a little hiccupping laugh.

Her mum is still watching her, scared. The silence can’t have helped, the laugh certainly didn’t.

Nancy sighs and tries again.

‘I’m fine, mum. Really. All this – it’s just donations.’

‘Honey, even if you hadn’t—’ flinched, she doesn’t say, can’t seem to make herself say it, ‘—these are all your favourite things. Why on earth would you get rid of all this?’

‘It’s just – not that important anymore.’

Another misstep. Steve wouldn’t have understood. Robin wouldn’t have understood. Eddie might have. But her mother?

She pulls her hand back, one last stroke across Nancy’s fingers, and pulls the donations box in front of her. In a few seconds, before Nancy can even think to move and stop her, her mum has everything unpacked. Pink blouses, white soft frilly things, a light blue dress that sits snug around her waist and flares prettily, her favourite kitten heels, a sweater so beloved that her mum has mended it twice when she outgrew it and pulled the shoulders. Finally, once she’s seen everything, she puts it all to the side and draws in a steadying breath.

‘Your father and I had a fight last summer,’ she says.

Nancy frowns. Out of everything she expected to hear, that hadn’t been an option. She is the one to close the distance this time, hand on her mother’s knee. ‘Are you alright?’

The smile she gets is lop-sided, a little rueful, a little sad. ‘It was a long time coming. We fought about – oh, I don’t know – how he never talks to me, how lonely I am, that sort of thing.’

‘Oh Mum, I didn’t know.’

She squeezes Nancy’s hand. ‘You weren’t supposed to. It’s between me and your father, and it’s nothing for you to worry about. Ever.’ She punctuates the statement with another squeeze. ‘My point is that when we were done fighting, I marched up to our room and I emptied everything I own onto the floor and threw it away. Everything. And the very next day, I went out and bought a new wardrobe.’

Nancy frowns. She remembers that, vaguely. Like seeing something out of the corner of her eye, she can remember the tense household she escaped from so often to spend time with Jonathan, and the uneasy silence that filled the house when she returned from her internship, and she remembers, too, when her mother had started wearing newer, brighter clothes. She glances around her room. When she looks back, her mum is smiling at her.

‘I understand, Nancy. Wanting to be someone different, someone new.’

Nancy stares. Her mum’s face grows blurry, and worried, and it isn’t until she wipes Nancy’s cheeks with her thumb that Nancy realises that she’s crying.

‘Did it work?’ Nancy whispers.

Her mum hesitates. ‘For a little while, yes. I had new clothes, new hair. It made me feel—prettier. Bolder. More,’ she trails off, searching for the words.

‘Who you wanted to be?’

‘Who I thought I would have been. If everything had been different. If I hadn’t married your father, if I’d gotten a job, if I’d travelled. But after a little while, it seemed silly. Like I was playing dress up with Holly except instead of pretending to be a fairy princess, I was a version of me that didn’t exist.’

Nancy nods. ‘You looked beautiful,’ she offers. ‘You look beautiful.’

Her mum laughs, waves her hand. ‘That’s not the point, Nancy.’

‘But it’s true.’

That earns her a fond smile. Her mum cups the side of her face and Nancy leans into it; her mum’s hand is warm and smooth and smells faintly of detergent and the mellow floral of her hand cream.

‘What I’m trying to say is,’ she says, and strokes her thumb across Nancy’s cheek, swiping at another tear, ‘I know it’s tempting to try and change, to run away from mistakes or something that’s scaring you. But.’ She pulls back, taps Nancy on the nose. ‘If we do it like this, we’re going to run out of clothes.’

Nancy laughs a watery laugh. ‘Very good point.’

They sit together for a little longer, her mum holding her hand and looking about the room carefully. It strikes Nancy that it’s been years since her mum has been in her room for so long. She wonders what has changed since the last time. Other than herself, of course.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’

‘I can’t.’

Nancy regrets it the moment she says it. Her mum had opened up, and it was startling and a little relieving to know how similar they can be—startling, too, to realise how much she had missed going on around her. But isn't this exactly how she'd always dealt with everything? Tidying it into neat piles that she could keep or throw away? She'd dumped Steve and hadn't let herself think about him; she'd kept Jonathan. She'd tried to dump Barbara, that day when she'd taken her evidence to Murray Bauman, but somehow she'd found her way back in. She'd clung to her internship, to her plans, tried to keep everything so fucking neat and orderly, clung to that sense even as the world exploded around her and it's just. Not. Working anymore. She watches her mum start to re-fold the clothing she'd plucked out of the box, folds crisp and even and perfect in a way that Nancy still can't master, and she wants, suddenly, desperately, to hand a problem over to her mum and have it be solved for her in the same way. She can't talk about the nightmares, or their work in getting Eddie pardoned, or the roster she's come up with for nightly patrols, or the fresh, choking guilt that comes up each time she thinks about Barbara. But maybe...

'I have this...friend,' she says, and as soon as the words escape her she knows this is a bad idea, but her mum looks shocked and pleased and she's turning to face her, giving Nancy her full attention, nodding for her to continue. Nancy's hands twist together in her lap. 'I - don't quite know how to talk to him about - about something I found out. About him.'

She's being too vague, she knows. Her mum frowns with the force of someone trying to crush a Coke can with their mind, a look Nancy is abundantly familiar with now.

'Did he flirt with you?'

'No, it's not that.'

'Because I know you're with Jonathan, but you haven't seemed - you haven't talked about him in a while,' she points out carefully.

Nancy considers that, before tucking it into a pile of things to deal with that. 'It's not that,' she repeats, more firmly.

'Well, I might be able to help more if you just say it. And that might help your friend too, if you get out of that head of yours and talk.'

Nancy nods. She twists her hands in the other direction.

'I found out something really personal,' she says softly, and eyes her mum carefully, wondering again how stupid she has to be to have picked this of all things to talk to her mum about.

'Like a secret?'

'Mhm.'

What if she's a bigot? They've never talked about this before. What if she thinks Nancy has been contaminated? Or if she forbids her from spending time with her friends? Not that being forbidden would actually stop her, but it would change things. Even as she considers all of this, she knows she has to ask. It's terrifying. It's extraordinarily rare, the number of times she has gone into a conversation not knowing where it might lead, but she feels as though she has walked herself to the edge of a cliff and she won't know if there's a bridge until her mum shows it to her.

On the other hand, until she takes the step, she'll be teetering on the side of a cliff.

She drags in a breath and nods, looks up at her mum with purpose. 'I found out that he's - he's gay. And I don't know what to say to him about it.'

For a few moments, her mum only stares at her. Nancy's heart slams in her chest and her stomach turns. She's made a mistake. This is why she keeps her information to herself, this is why she does things by herself. Because she can't trust anyone else to do it right. She shakes her head, readies a perfect smile, readies a story to dismiss everything that she's said.

But then her mum says, 'Is he alright?'

Nancy frowns. 'What do you mean?'

'Does he have some place to stay? How did you find out - is he alright?'

'He - ' The implicit offer, the generosity in what her mum is saying, hits her and Nancy sags, relieved. 'He's okay. I overheard him - I wasn't eavesdropping,' she insists when her mum raises a brow, 'but now I know and I should tell him but I don't want him to worry. About me.'

'Well. I think you need to be honest. And you tell him that if he needs a place to stay, he's welcome here.'

Nancy nods slowly. 'You mean that?'

Her mum looks at her; Nancy stares right back, searching her eyes for something, she's not quite sure what. She feels - unsettled, uneasy, almost breathless by her mum's apparently easy acceptance. She feels like she could cry again and doesn't quite know why. Her mum looks at her with blue eyes, so like her own but so much warmer than Nancy thinks hers have ever been, and she reaches up to Nancy's face again. Cups her chin gently.

'There is nothing, nothing, you could tell me that would make me close our door. To you or any of your friends. Okay?' She waits for Nancy to nod, and smiles. 'Okay. Now - what do you say we go out shopping? Get you a new outfit. Something different. And then, if you still want to throw everything out, you can do that. How does that sound?'

Nancy nods. 'Yeah. That sounds really nice.'

#3blts #st tag #tagging my stories #prompt fill #stranger things tag #nancy my beloved

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unstatedmartini · 1 year

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i might just be maimed a;sdkfja;skljf

#NANCY MY BELOVED #911 lone star #ls liveblog

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himynameis4 · 1 year

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Okay, imma elaborate on my madwheeler roleswap bullshit.

For those who have no idea what i’m talking about (probably most of you, i imagine 😅), the basic premise is this: what would Stranger Things/Hawkins look like if Max had lived in Hawkins from the beginning, and Mike & the Wheelers moved to Hawkins in season 2?

My previous posts on this are linked here (initial premise, basically breaking down how canon deviated to allow for the role swap) here (elaborating on potential implications of swapping Mike & Max’s roles for El & her relationships) and here (this talks vaguely about how removing Mike might change season one/party dynamics). All previous posts are gonna be elaborated on as i get further in my rewatch/plot this out more tho, lol. If anyone has any thoughts, other takes, or wants to bounce ideas around or offer their own opinions on how the season could potentially deviate based on this premise, i’d seriously love to hear about it (talking ab this stuff is my catnip ngl).

(Speaking of! @faithfulcat111 hiiiiiiii! I figured i might as well tag you on this post, since this focuses a lot on how season 1 might be different—specifically, differences caused by the fact that Nancy Wheeler isn’t in Hawkins, since I haven’t gotten to posts specifically describing how season 1 could/would go down yet (…in part bc i haven’t decided how i think it should go down, & also bc i rlly have to do that rewatch 😅). I haven’t decided whether Will was biking home from Max’s the night he was taken, or if he was just… at home, y’know? Because if will was targeted by vecna, (& i think he was lol), whether he was biking home or just at his house wouldn’t matter, except for the fact that one option creates waaaaay more angst for our characters than the other, especially if the Mayfield’s trailer was the last place will was seen 😬🤷.)

Now, can we talk ab the potential implications of No Nancy Wheeler?

Like. Wherever Nancy Wheeler grew up, it sure as hell wasn’t Hawkins, and that has all kinds of impacts on the people who ARE still in Hawkins.

In Rebel Robin, Robin basically all but says that Barb chose Nancy over her. No Nancy… are Barb & Robin still friends?

Steve isn’t pursuing Nancy, which means Nancy doesn’t drag Barb along to Steve’s party, which means Barb doesn’t get taken—at least, not because of the party. Was Steve pursuing someone else? Maybe Heather Holloway, or Chrissy Cunningham? Maybe one of them is invited to the party. Maybe she dies earlier, in this universe.

Or maybe she survives the monster attacks. Become part of the action, part of the force against the Upsidedown.

Without Nancy there… does Jonathan Byers take the pictures? [We need to have a brief sidebar about Jonathan. First and foremost, I love this character. Second, taking noncon pictures of someone, especially when they’re in a vulnerable position, is never okay. What Jonathan did was badly handled in canon and, frankly, out of character.]. Perhaps, rather than taking the photos, Jonathan trips, falls, cuts himself while wandering the woods looking for Will. His blood draws a monster (that perhaps gets caught on jonathan’s camera?), which causes Jonathan to either scream, burst through the bushes into the pool party rambling about a faceless monster like a madman, or both.

Now, having witnessed Jonathan Byers’ incident, Steve’s involved. Maybe he gets suspicious of the woods around his house, catches a glimpse of the monster too. Potential slowburn Stonathan friendship bc it’s clear, from the fact that Steve goes to apologize & pays for a new camera & talks ab hanging out with Jonathan in season 4, that steve genuinely wants to be friends with this guy.

In this au, Steve likely wouldn’t break Jonathan’s camera, bc Jonathan hasn’t given him a (frankly, completely justified) reason to. Steve & Jonathan’s fistfight probably wouldn’t happen. But unless Jonathan sees the monster… without Nancy & the photos Jonathan took of Barb getting taken, Jonathan has no reason to believe his mother, and no reason to try & fight the demogorgon (which probs wouldn’t be called a demogorgon here, given that the party isn’t as into dnd w/out Mike, RIP).

You know what else No Nancy means? Nobody to make the connection about demogorgons & blood. & later, in season 2, No Nancy back in season 1 means Alive Barb, which means no exposing Owens/the lab, which means the lab is still up & running in season 3, & ALSO means no Murray until season 3 at Least (through Hopper), AND given Nancy’s wildly different relationships in this au could mean there’ll be nobody to stab Will with a hot poker & free him from the mindflayer at the end of season 2, and depending on how we resolve that & season 3—

Basically, Nancy Wheeler is insanely important, and her absence is gonna have a lot of implications. (Thankfully, given that the Wheelers move to Hawkins pre-season 2, she’ll be around for season 4. 🙏)

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squigglywindy · 1 year

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@nancyheart11 Twilight and Floof! First thing that popped in my head XD

—

It was dark; the stars obscured by the clouds and the moon barely a sliver in the cold night sky. The only real light came from the fire, and somehow, that warm glow made the absolute mass of fluff even…fluffier.

Twilight had never stopped wondering what it would feel like, if he ever got up the nerve to find out. But it would be far too awkward to ask, and far too weird not to. But now…now, everyone was asleep. Nobody would ever have to know. Maybe it was the wolf in him, but he just couldn’t shake the urge to just…touch it.

He crept across their small clearing, careful not to disturb any of the Links gathered around the fire. Hyrule was curled up beside Legend, burritoed up in a blanket with only his head poking out of the top.

Mind made up, Twilight extended a hand a very gently buried it into the fluffy mess that was the traveler’s hair. It seemed to swallow him whole; his hand just kept going deeper and deeper, the unbelievable softness causing Twilight’s other hand to join in, playing with the floof absently, completely unaware of the world outside of the fluff.

He should have been paying attention; shouldn’t have let himself get so caught up in wander that he didn’t notice the traveler stir. “Are you…petting me?” Hyrule mumbled around a yawn, and Twilight guiltily yanked his hands away.

He bit his tongue, forcing himself not to argue that they had all petted him at some point. ”Your hair’s very soft,” he stated dumbly, at a loss for what else to say.

Hyrule blinked once, seemingly confused before snuggling back down into his blanket. “Thanks, I wash it,” he hummed, eyes falling closed for a moment before one sprung back open, squinting at Twilight in the fire light. “Y’don’t have t’stop,” he mumbled. “It felt nice.”

Twilight hesitated for a moment, struck by how weird it could be, but ultimately shoved it aside. They were all past that. He gathered his courage and covered the distance, settling in beside Legend who grumbled tiredly in discontent.

Twilight smiled as his hands sunk back into the floof, Hyrule letting out a happy little sigh as the camp fell silent once again.

#Nancy my beloved #these are very short but it’s just for fun #also you’re very sweet thank you <3 #squiggles writes

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everyone-with-a-para · 1 year

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everyone with a para who is goth have a wonderful day!!!

^^^

#quill projects #gerry my beloved #nancy my beloved #madd #immersive daydreaming #maladaptive daydreaming #paraportal #madd positivity #ask

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bokettochild · 2 months

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the more I hear about this Turkey thing the funnier it gets that I haven't seen it

it was a random post and I thought it would die like the otrehr random posts

but now the internet knows e as Turkey Girl and most of them probably have o clue I actually write fics T-T

such is my fate

#turkey crap #asks and answers #nancy my beloved

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unexpectedstormy · 5 months

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That Wolfie fic you mentioned for a bite sized break while i clean up my formatting on this portion of my research paper? (if you don't mind)

Yup! Here you go! Time for some Avalanche Rescue with a POV of Wolfie!

#avalanche rescue #nancy my beloved #hope everything is going well for you right now #an unexpected ask

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lavenderlevetan · 2 years

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nancy wheeler:

#nancy wheeler #nancy my beloved #stranger things 4 #incorrect stranger things quotes #stranger things

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telemna-hyelle · 10 months

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Hi Tellie!! love you lots! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧/p

Awwwww 💖💖💖💖💖 love you too, Nancy! /p! will carry these images with me to give me strength today 💖 I shall certainly need it

#you ask tellie answers #nancy my beloved #love for tellie?

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sha3mustd1e · 2 years

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hi friends just nancy head cannons today:) i’m gonna do robin tomorrow:))

-loves grapes and cheese together as a snack

-designated ‘friend who knows how to sew’

-taught eddie the right way to sew patches on

-she bought eddie a patch that said “i <3 my lesbian bffs”

-writes stories about things she sees outside of her window at her desk

-once wrote an entire notebook full of reasons she loved robin because robin was doubting herself

-continues to write the whole gang random little motivational notes and stick them all around their houses or wherever they may be at

-went straight into mother hen mode the moment they left the upside down

-she was scared of eddie the first time they met

(to be fair eddie was probably more scared of nancy)

-her and steve steal hair care and skin care products from each other

-^ they definitely do face masks with each other and watch john hughes movies together

-is vegetarian because of the deer she seen the night she discovered the upside down

-madonna stan 100%

-prefers romance novels over any other genre

-literally was sweating and shaking when she came out to robin and robin was like “hell yes!! be my gf pls marry me rn”

-^nancy went through every fucking emotion possible and then they became u-haul lesbians<3

(that one is not serious i swear)

#stranger things #nancy wheeler #ronance #robin buckley #nancy my beloved #sfw interaction only #fruity 4 #eddie munson #steve harrington #upside down #st4 vol1 #st4 vol2 #i love stranger things #so much #wlw ship #stranger things headcanons #nancy wheeler headcanons

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unicyclehippo · 2 years

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duty!

definition: duty - 1. a moral or legal obligation; a responsibility; 2. a task or action that one is required to perform as part of one's job

‘how could you let this happen?’

nancy shakes under the weight of the accusation. it’s eased, somewhat, by steve putting a hand on her back, against her spine and pressing against her like he can infuse her with strength; eased, somewhat, by robin unfolding out of the hospital chair and stepping up to her side like they’re facing down a monster together. it doesn’t reassure her as much as it had facing vecna because this is no monster—this is her mother, and she deserves every word of blame.

‘mum—‘

‘he is fifteen! a child! he’s a child, nancy, and you let him—‘ karen wheeler stops, not of her own volition but because horror steals her breath and she presses her hands down hard over her heart. ‘what were you thinking?’

nancy doesn’t say a word. what is there to say?

when i was his age, we discovered monsters are real and we’ve been fighting them ever since. i have worried about him every hour since then but there is no one we can ask to help so saving the world falls on the bony shoulders of my baby brother and his friends. i’ve let my brother do dangerous things because it’s all dangerous here, and i did things that were worse because he shouldn’t have to, because i had to, because i love him, because he’s mine and it’s my duty to protect my brother and i failed.

robin’s fingers are warm and rough—still scratched to pieces from digging through gravel, still untreated, nancy adds it to the list of things that need to get done—when she loops them around nancy’s wrist. her thumb skids over the jut of her wrist, lands and settles on nancy’s pulse; under the reassuring pressure of someone else’s hand, of robin’s hand, nancy can feel the thud of her own pulse, too fast, like it’s hammering at the pulse point and her skin feels thin, brittle, like one more sharp word will puncture her and the blood and fear and disgust inside of her will explode everywhere. it feels like her skin is splitting and robin’s hand on her is the only thing holding that wound closed. she twitches. robin’s hand releases and nancy makes an awful sound, grabs at it with her own.

‘please,’ she says.

‘okay,’ robin says right back. and squeezes harder.

‘nancy! just tell me, tell me what’s going on, tell me why mike was there - why any of you were there! tell me,’ she demands, and her mother is crying and reaching out and her face is in her mothers hands, her mother who is crying, and nancy has no words for her. ‘please, baby, talk to me, please, i need to know if he - is he going to be okay?’

#st tag #short prompt #nancy my beloved #im putting her through the wringer apparently oops?

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