#FRANCY

[collageofnudes]

Francy by Max Simotti

[sync-nd]

finished pieces from 2020/2021 🤯

[drewlyyours]

Why is it always “I love you” and never “Please be careful! I just want to tell you that I’ve always—”

[nnancydrewing]

am i the only one who thought the Ned stuff in KEY was super weird and defensive like HerInteractive was pissed at ppl for talking their shit on Ned in MID even though they were the ones who wrote him that way

[herinactivity]

DERAILED (sara's version) by @frankhardys

see above a redux of my original 'derailed' edit, 'derailed' of course being my favourite ND fic ever. in the year of our lord 2024 tess gave us (but of course, most importantly me) a redux. it follows i would give my own tribute edit a redux, too 🤍

read 'derailed' [the redux, sara's version] / read 'derailed' 2017 / this edit, but on instagram / my francy playlist, if you'd like to take a listen.

[heartscfvalor]

[papenniesandbentoboxes]

[francy-2020]

I’ll just repost my Reddit thoughts from my immediate reaction post KEY…

[synchronisedchaos]

after years and years and years i have finally found a copy of Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys Super Mysteries - Secrets of the Nile.

Now, this may not be a huge deal to many of you but to the 5 people in the Frank x Nancy fandom, this is the moment i have been waiting for my whole life.

[the-truest-sentence-i-know]

The Hotel Intel

Fandom: The Nancy Drew/Hardy Boys Mysteries (TV)

Character(s): Frank Hardy x Nancy Drew

Rating: T (cw: blood)

Summary: “Do you really think this is the first threat that I’ve dealt with?” Nancy interrupted.

“And how many times have you almost gotten hurt or killed for your sleuthing?” Frank demanded.

Wordcount: 883 | ao3

Prompt: blood-stained tiles (from @febuwhump ’s Febuwhump 2024)

“Maybe you should stay in Joe’s and my room,” Frank suggested.

“There’s no need for that,” Nancy said. “I’ll be perfectly safe in my own room.”

They were in the hotel elevator headed up to their floor.

“But the note said–”

“Do you really think this is the first threat that I’ve dealt with?” Nancy interrupted.

“And how many times have you almost gotten hurt or killed for your sleuthing?” Frank demanded.

“I wish someone would kill me right about now,” Joe said.

“And you think I’d be safer with you?” Nancy asked, ignoring Joe. “From this dangerous murderer?”

“Yeah, obviously,” Frank said, also ignoring Joe. “Three is more than one, Nancy.”

Nancy rolled her eyes. “I’ve handled myself this far,” she said. “You guys are just paranoid. It’s a wonder you’ve solved a single case if a note like that gets you scared.”

“Don’t lump me in with him,” Joe protested. “I don’t want you in our room any more than you do.”

Frank glared at him.

“Then I’ll have to share a bed with you,” Joe said, raising his hands. “Blanket-hog.”

It was Frank’s turn to roll his eyes. “Please, Nancy. I won’t sleep a wink if you’re alone.”

“Then take a sleeping pill,” Nancy said as the elevator dinged, and the doors opened. “See you in the morning, boys,” she called, walking down the hall.

Frank and Joe stepped out as well, Joe turning to head in the other direction. Frank grabbed his arm before he got far.

“Frank,” Joe said. “You can’t argue her into agreeing with you. In fact, I think you arguing with her makes her agree with you even less.”

“We can’t just let her–”

“Nancy will do what she thinks is best,” Joe said. “C’mon, I thought you two had a ‘special connection’ and everything.”

Frank smacked his shoulder but started down the hallway. “Fine.”

Frank woke with a start. The clock read 1:27 am. Joe slept soundly in the other bed. He wasn’t sure what woke him, but whatever it was made him uneasy.

Nancy was probably right about his paranoia, but nevertheless, he got up. He pulled on a pair of pants and grabbed a flashlight. Quietly, he slipped out into the hallway and padded toward Nancy’s room on socked feet.

Immediately, he could tell something was wrong. Nancy’s room’s door was slightly open.

He rushed inside, the door slamming against the wall with a bang as he entered. Crouched by the bedside table was a figure that definitely was not Nancy. It was a burly man in blue overalls, who rose and turned quickly when he heard Frank.

A glance at the bed told him Nancy was not there.

“Where is she?” he demanded, brandishing the flashlight like a weapon.

The man’s eyes flicked to the bathroom and when Frank’s eyes followed, the man charged at him. He shoved Frank to the ground and took off out the door. Frank was on his feet in a moment, ready to run after him. But then he saw a flash of red in the bathroom.

He clenched a fist at the sound of the man thundering down the hallway. Then he rushed to the bathroom and flicked on the light.

The pure white bathroom tiles were splattered with blood – so vivid it looked fake.

But Nancy was very real.

Nancy, unconscious, hair matted with blood, lay sprawled against the side of the bathtub.

“Oh, god,” Frank breathed, stumbling to her side. The flashlight fell forgotten from his grasp, clattering and echoing in the small room. The blood soaked into the knees of his pants as he knelt beside her. He reached out and held her face, gently tapping her cheek.

“Nancy?” he said. “Nancy, wake up.”

When she didn’t so much as stir, he felt panic set in. Head wounds always bled a lot. He knew that. They always seemed worse than they were. His heart hammered in his chest.

“Oh god, oh god,” he muttered. He closed his eyes tightly. Get a handle on yourself, he ordered. He took a breath, opened his eyes, and hollered. “Joe!” As he called for his brother, he ripped towels from the shelves and packed Nancy’s head wound with them.

Joe appeared at the door in his shorts and a t-shirt. “Frank, what’s– Oh.” He was on his knees too in a moment.

“The guy– He was here, he ran, I– I couldn’t leave her,” Frank babbled.

“Did you call for an ambulance already?” Joe asked.

Frank shook his head.

“I’ll do that then,” Joe said and rushed out of the bathroom to the phone on the nightstand.

Alone again, Frank looked at Nancy’s face, which was still except for the slight movements in her breathing. He repositioned her so she leaned against him, propping the towels between his shoulder and her head. As he reached for her hands, he realized one of them was loosely clenched around something. He gently opened her fingers to find a cloth patch of some kind.

He smoothed it out and read the text: Mac’s Auto Repair. Bits of fabric were still stuck to it – torn and the same blue as the intruder’s overalls.

Frank almost laughed. “Damn it, Nancy,” he said. “Never let it be said you’re not determined.”

[macbetha]

NO KEY WITHOUT TOIL • a nancy drew fic concept (tw blood / horror clips in trailer)

decades have passed since nancy (amy adams) first visited blackmoor manor. after a divorce and the passing of her father, nancy finds herself in london accompanying maya nguyen to brady armstrong’s metamorphosis from cable tv to theatre.

nancy is all too happy to duck out of the play and take a call from hugh penvellyn, who is desperate to uncover the whereabouts of an adult jane (mia washikowska) and five other missing girls - one being mei parry, who travelled to london to meet an online friend with a passion for game design.

nancy feels just as washed up as brady armstrong. she’s been a nickerson for years now - she wouldn’t know nancy drew if that long-lost legend shook her by the shoulders and screamed.

perhaps the halls of blackmoor can guide her back to herself, whoever that might be.

if frank hardy wants to help light the path down those gloomy, twisted moors, who is she to stop him and joe? but the addition of deirdre, the married ghost hunting duo jessalyn thorton and henry bolet, plus dylan carter, who is now giving spook-ridden tours of blackmoor? well, let’s just say that rediscovering nancy drew might be tricker than expected.

my actions ensure that my name will endure, right?

[flabber-worried]

guys i want to write a fic so so bad but i can only ever come up with little blurbs like this and can never fully flesh anything out

-

-

Things were never the same after Germany. When Ned called and they had that fight. Sure they patched it up but something was fractured between them. And between the boys. Which is exactly why Nancy didn’t call Frank when she was arrested, even though he was who she wanted to talk to most.

More than Bess.

More than George.

More than her dad.

More than… Ned.

But she needed Ned’s help and with how fresh that fracture was, she couldn’t risk a real break, so she never called. 

Frank of course, didn’t know this when he found out she had been arrested.

And Joe, who surprisingly understood immediately, found out when Frank nearly ran him over with the car, speeding out of the driveway to get to Nancy.

-

-

maybe i'll just post all the little snippets and call it a fic

[bathtubenthusiastr]

As a Francy supporter, I do NOT:

- condone cheating

- hate Ned and Nancy’s relationship

- think Frank’s whole character should revolve around being in love with Nancy (he should have depth!!)

- think their relationship/situationship should become a major plot point in future games (MID exacerbated this)

I just enjoy their banter and think they’d be a good match in an alternate universe. That’s all

[drewlyyours]

Francy stimboard

x x x | x x x | x x x

[deadinarussianelevator]

“It’s.. good to see you two back together.” Said Frank Hardy, in the least convincing tone of all time.

[koolkitty9]

"I kind of like Frank..." "NANCY! Please be careful! I just wanted to tell you that I've always--!" --

I'm a sucker for Frank Hardy and Nancy Drew so take my interpretation of Nancy in 2005 during the Last Train to Blue Moon Canyon

I drew this like last February and realized I forgot to share it here Then realized I drew Frank's vest wrong