#nancy steele is missing!

[soapkaars]

Four of Swords

The four of swords is a card about contemplation, meditation, ‘a great focus in life’. Reversed it can be stagnation, precaution, testament. So I decided upon the most patient Lorre character of all: professor Sturm from Nancy Steele is Missing. This character quietly observed his celmate, Dannie, and remembered every little piece of information he let slip from his mouth. Biding his time and sitting out his sentence for seventeen years (!), he waited for the moment he could get out and claim the reward for revealing where the missing daughter really was. In the original card, three swords hang from the wall, and the fourth one lies under a sleeping knight, here, they are the bars in the prison window, and the shiv Sturm is holding in his hand, contemplating about what he is to do with Dannie.

‘When I came here, they pushed me around too, you know. But now, they no longer do.’

[peterlorrefanpage]

Peter Lorre as Professor Sturm in Nancy Steele is Missing! (1937)

I love this still shot - his eyes, his stance, the way he's somehow in motion and frozen at the same time, caught quite literally (which the next image shows). There's such beauty in this shot, in his face and form. Quite attractive, Mr. Lorre.

He plays a lovely, Machiavellian part in Nancy Steele (which is otherwise a little overlong with plot points - but don't let me deter you). I'll let his expression entice you in on its own:

[noirgasmweetheart]

Snippits of Ugarte being a difficult prisoner...

"Visas? Yah, I have tons, lying around my apartment. I don't keep track. Maybe I accidentally rolled them into refers, who knows."

"...signed by General de Gaul?! Two of them?....Hmm....nope. doesn't ring any bells."

"Why don't you try looking up Major Strasser's ass-hole. You were probably gonna do that anyway, huh Louie?"

"...son of a bitch didnt even try to help me."

"Sounds like my wife."

"If I ever see his putrid--"

"--Oh! Good morning Louie! Did you and the major manage to find those fucking visas yet?"

"You can tear Casablanca apart brick by brick. You will never find those visas."

"...Rick what the hell are you doing here."

"Looking for a pub. I'm rescuing you, moron."

"I suppose a refined cafe owner is always fashionably late."

"Chew me up when we're on our way out of here."

"Who else is with you?"

"Louie."

"Renault?" [Rhaspy laugh.] "This just keeps getting better and better."

"Look it's a long story. Hurry up or you won't get to hear it."

[peterlorrefanpage]

So adorable, so so adorable. That top one gets me every time. Here are a few more:

From a photoshoot during Nancy Steele is Missing (1936)

[stranger-fanfiction-n-things]

CHAPTER 6: THE MONSTER

This is an Original Character fanfiction. All Stranger Things characters and content are owned by Netflix and The Duffer Brothers.

a/n: We have the long awaited alley scene! (P.S. This is the outfit I picture Diana wearing except her hair is out, big and curly like Diana Ross)

Warnings: Homophobic and sexual slurs. Violence.

Word Count: 4245

Masterlist

PART I || PART II || PART III || PART IV

HUNTING & CAMPING

The Hunting & Camping store smells like wet wood, dust and metal. I examine the watermark stains on the ceiling and the thin layer of dust coating almost everything as I stroll down an aisle with different types of lights and lanterns. Different styles of fishing rods line the right side of the wall while taxidermies of beavers and bears line the left side. I peer behind a set of glass lanterns at the clerk standing behind the front counter. The bored expression on his face makes me wonder how many customers have come in since opening because Nancy, Jonathan, and I are the only people here on a Saturday morning. 

I continue down the aisle avoiding the creepy taxidermies. It’s all bizarre. Not once did I ever think I’d be shopping at this store for weapons and traps for a monster I never knew existed in efforts to find my best friend who went missing four days ago. I hum along to the old country song playing in the store approaching a new aisle with hardware items where Nancy stands at the other end skimming through different sledge hammers. A set of nails catch my eye. They’re about five-inches in length and three-centimeters thick. I grab the set making my way toward Nancy just as she assess a sledge hammer in her hands. Upon sensing my presence, she turns toward me holding it up. 

“What do you think of this?” she muses. 

“Take it.” I reply, putting the nails in the shopping basket in the crook of her arm. Nancy nods her head adding the sledge hammer. 

“Anything else you think we need?” Nancy asks, eyes darting between rows. 

I turn toward the creepy taxidermies at the end of the row and squint at the set of items alongside the wall. I motion for Nancy to follow me as I walk toward a small section filled with various bear traps. A large steel trap catches my eye. It’s a perfect size to capture the thing and strong enough to at least cause some damage assuming it doesn’t have impenetrable skin. I’m not sure how much the creature can endure, but this should do. Jonathan approaches us holding a small gas tank and lighter fluid. I tilt my head to the side and turn to look at him. He makes a noise nodding his head. Nancy and I shrug. Sounds like a yes to us. I take the bear trap. 

After a few minutes of grabbing a couple more things, Jonathan, Nancy and I approach the front counter, setting everything down. The clerk looks over the nails, lighter fluid, gas tank, steel bear trap, sledge hammer, matches, and flashlight, arching his brow in suspicion. 

“And I’ll have four boxes of the .38s.” Jonathan adds. The clerk picks up four boxes adding it to the pile of items. He looks at the three of us, down at the counter and back at us. Three teenagers buying weapons on a Saturday morning is definitely a cause for caution. I try my best to look as innocent and unassuming as possible and put on my best smile, tucking a curl behind my ear. 

“What you kids doin’ with all this?” The clerk asks. I look at Jonathan and Nancy not sure of what to tell him. 

“Monster hunting.” Nancy answers.

The clerk scoffs ringing up the bill. I snort, covering my mouth with my hand. It wasn’t a lie, but I never expected her to say it. From the corner of my eye, Jonathan is trying to hold his laughter. 

“Monster Hunting?” Jonathan says, as we all walk to his car carrying the items we bought. 

“I can’t believe you said that, Nance!” 

I help Jonathan hold the box while he opens the trunk of his car. Nancy smiles shaking her head, lifting the gas tank into the trunk. Jonathan and I carefully place the cardboard box in the trunk too. 

“Last week I was shopping for a new top I thought Steve might like.” Nancy says. I remember listening to her gush to me on the phone about the shopping trip and the top she bought to wear to school. I had an impromptu rehearsal so I couldn’t go. “It took me and Barb all weekend. It seemed like life of death, you know? And now—” 

“You’re shopping for bear traps with Jonathan Byers.” Jonathan teases, slamming the trunk closed. 

Nancy looks at him and nods her head. “Yeah.” 

“What’s the weirdest part? Me or bear trap?” 

“You. Definitely, you.” 

“We do enjoy your company though.” I tease, grinning up at him.  

Jonathan nudges my arm and we all laugh. For a moment, it all feels normal. Like we are just a couple of friends hanging out on a Saturday morning. Not monster hunting or solving mysterious disappearances in our town. Normal. But I know this isn’t normal. Nothing that has happened the past four days is. Will this be my new normal? A car honks popping our bubble. I turn around to find out who is honking and what is going on. A maroon-coloured Mustang turns the corner and a boy who I don’t know smiles at us hanging out window. 

“Hey, Nance, can’t wait to see your movie.” He laughs as his friend speeds off down the road. 

“What the hell was that?” 

Jonathan takes the words right out of my mouth. That boy was definitely someone who went to Hawkins High. How else would he know who Nancy is. How does he know who Nancy is? I frown, tucking a curl behind my ear. Hawkins High wasn’t a big school; it was the only high school in town, but it isn’t small enough for that guy to know who Nancy is unless…I rub my lips together feeling a sense of dread crash over me. Something is wrong. Nancy looks frantic, blue eyes darting in every direction. She stops, standing straight. I watch her eyes widen in realization and reach out to her. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Nancy whips around staring down the road. I turn around too trying to see what has her on edge. I don’t see anything out of the ordinary, only townsfolk walking to and from their destinations. Suddenly Nancy is sprinting down the road.  

“Nancy? Where are you going?” I shout, running after her. “Nancy! What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

“Nancy!” Jonathan shouts behind me. “Nancy, wait!” 

I see it before I slow down to a jog, stopping beside her. It feels like a trapdoor is inside my stomach, opening wide enough for me to fall through. My hands fly to my mouth, muffling my gasp. There up on the marquee at Hawkins Cinema, is a big and bold sign premiering the new Tom Cruise movie, All The Right Moves, but spray painted in bright red letters it says “STARRING NANCY THE SLUT WHEELER”. 

HAWKINS CINEMA 

I’m trying to process the unbelievable sight in front of me, but my mind is struggling to reconcile reality. Nancy looks at me, eyes brimming with tears. I feel helpless and I don’t know what to do. Her eyes search for confirmation, seeking reassurance that what she had witnessed was not a figment of her imagination. All I do is stare back at her. 

“Shit.” Jonathan gasps, staring up at the sign in disbelief. 

Nancy’s breathing becomes shallow and I fear she is going to have an emotional breakdown. I rush to hug her squeezing her in my arms. Nancy squeezes back. I hear her sniffle and instantly my eyes start to burn as I fight back tears. I can’t believe someone would do this to her. Rage bubbles deep in my stomach. I am so angry; I can’t even think straight. From the corner of my eye, I notice a small crowd forming around us. Strangers stare at Nancy and I, some whispering in disgust to each other, others show more compassion, sending us questioning looks instead of repulsion. I stare up at the marquee again, reading the words over and over again until they are etched into my brain. Who would do such a disgusting thing like this? 

A faint sound of laughter perks my interest. Nancy tears herself away from my grasp, frowning. She turns toward the sound and marches down the road to an alleyway. 

"Nance?” I shout, scurrying behind. She continues down the alley her hands balled into tight fists. 

I turn the corner and find Carol, Nicole, Tommy H and Steve Harrington, all laughing, watching Tommy spray paint on the side of a building. Red spray paint. Nancy stomps toward the group and Carol is the first one to notice her. 

“Hey there, princess!” Carol sneers, smiling. 

“Uh-oh, she looks upset.” Tommy teases. A lit cigarette hangs from his lips as he shakes the aluminum can. 

Steve glares at Nancy. I don’t like the way he’s looking at her and walk behind in case something happens. What I don’t expect to see is Nancy’s hand connecting with Steve’s cheek. The slap is so loud, I can hear it from down the alley. 

“Damn!” Tommy exclaims, taking the cigarette out from between his lips. He couldn’t contain the grin on his face even if he tried. He’s so disgusting. 

Everyone gasps from the initial shock but soon Tommy, Carol and Nicole are laughing. I scoff in disgust. This is all some game to them. Steve clenches his jaw, giving Nancy the dirtiest look I’ve ever seen him give. 

“What is wrong with you?” Nancy shouts. 

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?” Steve shouts back. “I was worried about you,” he scoffs shaking his head, laughing bitterly. “I can’t believe I was actually I worried about you.”

Worried? About Nancy? Why? 

Nancy shakes her head. “What are you talking about?” 

“I wouldn’t lie if I were you,” Carol chimes in, smiling condescendingly. “You don’t want to be known as the lying slut now, do you?”  

“Don’t call her that!” I snap, approaching the crowd. I stand protectively behind Nancy, glaring at Carol.  

“Why am I not surprised to see you, Sinclair?” Tommy jumps down from the ledge, smirking as he takes a drag of his cigarette. He intentionally blows the smoke in my face and I back away repulsed. Tommy’s lips spread to a grin. “Freaks, perverts, now sluts. Always associating yourself with such garbage.” 

My eyes narrow as I try to decipher the cryptic message. This is the second time this week Tommy has said something like that to me. Once before in the parking lot at school and now here in the alley. Who’s the freak? What is he talking about? I think back to Wednesday. Jonathan got caught with those disgusting photos in his backpack, Steve broke his camera. But Tommy mentioned freaks and perverts before all that happened. Who is he talking about? I am distracted by the wall behind Tommy. Written in large red letters is “BYERS IS A PERV”. I scoff in distaste. Carol notices where my gaze is and grins at me like the Red Queen in Alice in Wonderland. 

“Maybe we should add ‘DIANA SINCLAIR LOVES ANAL’” she boasts. Nicole cackles beside her. 

“Leave me alone!” 

“Leave me alone!” Nicole mimics, pouting dramatically. 

“Aw, sounds like Anal Princess is growing a backbone.” Carol taunts. 

“Stop calling me that!” I snap, growing angrier by the second. 

Carol arches a plucked eyebrow at me and tilts her head to the side smiling, clearly enjoying my reactions. “Or what?” she challenges. 

“Speak of the Devil.” Tommy says flicking his cigarette against the wall. “Hi,” he waves at Jonathan. I have a strong feeling they were all waiting for Jonathan to arrive to start their antics. 

“You came by last night?” 

“Ding! Ding! Ding! Does she get a prize?” Carol mocks Nancy, but Steve doesn’t flinch staring down at her with such…resentment. What did he see to have such a vitriol reaction like this?

“Look, I don’t know what you think you saw, but it wasn’t like that.” 

“What, you just let him into your room to…study?” I wince. I know enough to know that studying doesn’t truly mean reviewing school work. 

Tommy steps in front of me and Jonathan. “Or for another pervy photo session?” He laughs as if that's something to laugh about.

I run my fingers through my hair trying to make sense of what the problem was here. Judging by Jonathan’s clothing it is obvious he stayed over at Nancy’s last night after our brief albeit traumatizing encounter with the monster. I know how much Nancy likes Steve; she wouldn’t jeopardize her relationship. But why was Steve at Nancy’s house late at night in the first place? 

"I went to check on my girlfriend!" Steve shouts. I didn't realize I voiced my thoughts out loud.

"But what happened?" Nancy wouldn't do anything compromising.

Steve’s dark brown eyes grow icy and dark. If looks could kill, I’d be dead. “As if you didn’t know from the start, Sinclair!” He motions between Jonathan and I, scowling. “It would explain why you’re always protecting the pervert.” 

“Excuse me? I’m not protecting anyone. I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!” 

Nancy shakes her head furiously. “We were just—” 

“You were just what?” Steve whips his head back. “Finish the sentence.” He demands, stepping closer to her. I prepare myself to step between them. Nancy doesn’t say anything. I mean what could she say? Steve isn’t going to believe her. There’s so much he doesn’t know or understand yet he’s jumping to such harmful conclusions at the expense of her. The silence is loud between everyone. I watch the anger in Steve’s eyes slip to a look of disappointment. The wall is back up in a flash, but I saw it.

“Go to hell, Nancy.” 

“Hey!” I shout, stomping toward him. “You don’t talk to her like that!” I feel someone pulling my arm away but I shake them off standing my ground. Steve has a lot of nerve embarrassing Nancy like this and I’ve had enough of it. I point up at him, the way my mom points at Erica or Lucas when they get in trouble.

“You don’t talk to her like that.” I repeat. Steve’s nostrils flare. 

“You gonna let Sinclair talk to you like that, Steve?” Tommy interjects. Steve doesn’t respond, but I can see in his eyes, the wall he built crack and I catch a glimpse of hurt he feels inside. I blink putting my hand down. Steve’s hurt. Genuinely hurt by all of this.

“Diana, come on.” Jonathan says, pulling me away. “Let’s just leave—” 

“You know what, Byers?” Steve speaks. “I’m actually kind of impressed. I always took you for a queer.” I try to turn around but Jonathan’s grasp on my arm is almost iron clad as he guides me and Nancy away from the situation. I can’t believe Steve would say that, knowing the implications of that word especially in a small town like this. Steve pushes Jonathan. “I guess you’re just a little screw-up like your father. That house is full of screw-ups. I guess I shouldn’t really be surprised.”

Jonathan stops walking. I can hear him panting angrily behind me, his grip on me tightens and I wince. Jonathan immediately removes his hand on me and I turn grabbing his arm, looking into his eyes. Anger radiates off him, I can feel it. I don’t want him to stoop down to their level. He’s better than that. 

“Don’t listen to him, Jonathan.” I plead, tugging on his arm. “Let’s go.” 

“This is rich!” Tommy shouts. “First, I seen you talking to that freak of nature and now you’re back defending this pervert.” 

My eyes widen slightly and my heartbeat picks up speed. Eddie. Tommy is talking about Eddie. I was talking to him by my lockers and we ate lunch together in his van…was Tommy watching us the entire time? How did I not notice? I press my lips together feeling the rage inside my stomach bubble and rise. Eddie is not a freak. Tommy doesn’t even know him the way I do. He has no right to call him that especially when Eddie hasn’t done anything to warrant such a name. Between Tommy and Officer Callahan, even Principal Higgins, I don’t understand why they think so badly about him.  

“You get off on weirdos, Sinclair? Is that your thing?” 

“You’re disgusting!” I yell.

Nancy tugs my arm. “Diana, let’s go. He’s an idiot.”

“Your mom!” Steve continues, pushing Jonathan again. He stumbles into me. “I’m not even surprised what happened to your brother. I’m sorry I have to be the one to say it—” 

“Steve, shut up!” Nancy yells. 

“That’s right, keep walking away, Sinclair!” 

“But the Byers? Their family, it’s a disgrace to the entire—”

Jonathan swings punching Steve in the face. Everyone is stunned to silence, even Tommy. I shriek, jumping out the way when Steve tackles Jonathan onto the car. They tussle until Steve grabs Jonathan by the jacket throwing him to the ground. The sound of Jonathan’s head knocking against the asphalt makes me sick to my stomach. 

“Steve!” Nancy shouts. “Steve, stop it!” 

“Knock it off!” Carol adds. 

“Tommy! Get in there and make them stop!” Nicole shouts. 

“C’mon, Steve!” Tommy encourages. “Kick his ass man!” 

My hands tremble with repressed fury and I curl my fingers into tight fists. I’m so sick of Tommy and his stupid male bravado. Steve climbs on top of Jonathan and starts to punch him in the face delivering heavy blows. No one is doing anything to stop it so I rush over to try to get him off Jonathan. Steve pulls his arm back narrowly missing my face and I scream, stumbling backward.

“Diana!” Nancy screams.

Steve looks back at me and it’s enough for Jonathan to get the upper hand. He punches Steve knocking him to the ground. The sound of skin hitting skin is too much for me to handle. I feel someone grab my waist, hoisting me away. 

“Are you crazy, Sinclair?” Tommy exclaims. “Trying to break up a fight between two men.” He unfortunately has a point but I’m too angry to care. I struggle against him, pushing him away. 

Jonathan and Steve are both standing, faces bloody and bruised. Jonathan swings landing a vicious punch that has Steve stumbling backward. I have never seen Jonathan like this before. So full of rage. Each punch is heavy and forceful, like he’s finally allowing himself to feel all the emotions he tried so hard to hide. His father coming back to town, Will's funeral, having to take care of Miss Byers. Steve ignited a rage so deep; I know he doesn’t have the stamina or skills to hold up on his own. Tommy must have noticed it too because he charges at Jonathan pushing him away. He raises his fist to attack Jonathan but Steve pushes him away. 

“Get out! Get out of here!” 

Tommy reluctantly moves out of the way and Jonathan swings again, but this time Steve sees it coming and ducks, sucker punching Jonathan in the nose. 

“Stop it!” I shout. 

Neither boy listen. Jonathan lands a punch so loud I scream. Steve stumbles backward dazed and confused. He trips over his foot falling to the pavement. I watch Jonathan climb on top of Steve and start beating his face in. A sickening wave of terror wells up from my stomach. Jonathan is going to kill Steve if he doesn’t stop. Frightened tears spill from my eyes. 

“Jonathan! Stop it! You’re gonna kill him!”

I rush toward the boys again reaching out to grab Jonathan’s shirt. Tommy grabs me so fast I trip on my foot falling rather ungracefully into him. 

“Jesus Christ, Sinclair! Stop doing that!” 

“Let go of me!” 

“Shit! The cops!” Tommy exclaims. He pushes me aside charging toward Jonathan and Steve to pry them apart. “He’s had enough! Goddammit! I said he’s had enough!” 

Carol and Nicole flee just as Officer Callahan and Officer Powell jump out the car. Officer Callahan reaches out to grab Jonathan just as his arm recoils back hitting him. He curses falling back against the car, holding his nose. Tommy pulls Steve up, dragging him past me and down the alley. Officer Powell pulls Jonathan away slamming him on top the car. He is in handcuffs before I can blink. Officer Callahan runs after Steve and Tommy as Officer Powell shoves Jonathan in the back of the car. 

“Diana! Are you okay?” Nancy rushes to me, holding my shoulders. 

I tremble watching the specks of blood on the pavement, Jonathan bloody and bruised in the car, and lastly at Nancy. Tears brim my eyes. How did it get to this?  

HAWKINS POLICE STATION

“Are you going to call our parents?” I ask Officer Powell as we reverse out of the alley. 

Encountering police officers twice in one week is an all-time record. After Officer Callahan ran back with blood dripping from his nose. He told Officer Powell that Steve and Tommy got away in a BMW before he can catch them. Nancy and I had to squeeze ourselves into the back seat of the car with Jonathan and accompany him back to the police station for questioning. 

“Do I need a reason to call your parents?” he responds, eying me through the rear-view mirror. I shake my head. “Then I’m not going to call your parents.” 

I let out a breath. Officer Powell and Callahan I can handle. The wrath of Charles and Susan Sinclair are another story. The drive to the station is short since it is down the street from the cinema. I’m annoyed, Tommy, Carol, Nicole, and Steve escape, but Jonathan, Nancy and I are in the back of a cop car to be questioned. This whole mess started because of them. 

Officer Powell and Officer Callahan escort the three of us inside. The police station is much more homely than I thought it would be. It smells strongly of coffee, donuts and paper. Several desks are pushed together in rows, with typewriters, a cup full of stationary, old cups of coffee and name tags. Two police officers stare at us from the far corner as we enter. A small, elder lady jumps up from her chair at her desk rushing toward Officer Callahan. I scrunch my nose in disgust at the dry blood between his fingers. Jonathan must have got him really good. The elder lady mumbles to herself about the dangers of working in the field, tending to Officer Callahan. 

Officer Powell plops Jonathan onto a chair before radioing in Chief Hopper. My eyes widen. Chief Hopper? I don’t think he needs to know about all of this. Miss Byers has been through enough already this week. 

“Wait here.” He instructs, walking away. Nancy and I share a look. How did it get to this? 

I glance at the damage done to Jonathan. It’s not that bad considering. His lip is cut and there’s a horrific bruise darkening on his cheekbone. I pan down to his fists. They’re bloody, bruised and swelling. I can only imagine how Steve looks. The sound of skin hitting skin makes my skin crawl. I can’t sit here. 

“I’m gonna get you some ice.” I mutter, walking away. 

“I’m coming with you,” Nancy says. 

The elder lady I quickly find out is the secretary named Florence “Flo” for short. She helps me with ice for Jonathan. Flo grabs a dish towel and scoops two handfuls of ice onto it. 

“Do you think we’ll be out of here soon?” Nancy asks. 

“You two, yes. Him? No. He assaulted a police officer.” 

“It wasn’t on purpose.” I mumble. Flo gives me a stern look. 

“Well, how long are you gonna keep him?” 

“You and your boyfriend have big plans, do you?” I make a face. Boyfriend? Jonathan and Nancy? 

“He’s not my boyfriend.” Nancy crosses her arms across her chest, laughing uncomfortably. Flo doesn’t look convinced. 

“I think you better tell him that.” 

“What?” Nancy and I say at the same time. Flo gives us both a look as if we were smart enough to tell. 

“Only love makes you that crazy, sweetheart. And that damn stupid.” 

Flo hands me the dishtowel and walks back to her desk. Nancy and I stand there for a moment processing. I scoff. Jonathan didn’t get into a fight with Steve because he loves Nancy. He got into a fight because Steve talked bad about his family, especially Miss Byers and Will. Nancy had nothing to do with that. Unless…I look at Jonathan again. Why else would he take photos of Nancy? Or even try to help us find Barb? No. It doesn’t make any sense. I shake my head scoffing again. Flo doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Yet, a small part of me in the back of my mind thinks different. 

I look around the room, at the police officers, at Flo, at Jonathan and Nancy. A fleeting headache pulses at my temples and I’m about to ask Flo for ice for myself, but that would mean I have to stay in this stuffy room and I can’t stay longer. I need fresh air and space. 

“I’m going for a walk.” I mutter, putting the dishtowel of ice in Nancy’s hand. 

CHAPTER 7: THE BATHTUB

Taglist 🤍: @tinydramatist

[female-woman-wiffman-lass]

Though in think tank:

It's just the two of us (three actually, its a tricycle now)

harringroveson, metalsandwhich

just the two of them wanting the same guy and finding each other

while said guy is trying to be filling. they're having the feels and steve is horny. he's fine though. I'll decide if I can keep this going. they will fuck nasty. in like, the next parts.

Billy Hargrove and Eddie Munson are hooking up. They've got a good thing going on.

They're into each other, they have stuff in common, be it music, the fashion, their preferences. They're fast and quick. Furious and sharp, all teeth when they're together. Get a thrill and kind of comfort with how consistent and similar they could be. They bounce off and work each other to heights. It feels like it's only the two of them, like steel sharpening steel. In this small hick town.

Billy's always felt a lot, even more now he's stuck here. Always ran hot now he's stuck in a chilly, dreary town, used to feel like he could breathe slow and easy out there but not when he's stuck here. And with Eddie. Well, Eddie always wanted more, knows he's made for more. He's flagging half-heartedly in a small town, and now Billy has to tuck himself in. They both always feel bigger on the inside. No one is like them. Not in the way they know.

No one else feels jagged or rough. Neither Eddie nor Billy know anyone who can stop the itch, the aches in their jaw, the tightness.

Enter Steve Harrington. Just, not really.

Now, Steve seemed exactly nothing like either of them. Yes, he's masculine. A man. But he's not.. like them. Not dark or sharp, probably not what either of them would experience, probably doesn't feel like a whirlwind in his body, doesn't scratch. But it doesn't stop either of them from ogling. Shooting the shit with each other, letting out comments and thoughts on guys the've seen. And even if Harrington was open, or experimenting, or anything that would lead preppy jocks astray, he probably wouldn't be any good. Wouldn't be fun, no matter how pretty. No matter how soft.

Billy and Eddie's standards on the anyone in Hawkins, any man they might think of in the sense they'd think of each other. None for now, just them. Clocked each other so fast and collided with each other like a car crash. But both can agree, yeah. Steve's hot.

Billy's been knowing about it, having been hanging out with Steve. Knowing who he is, mostly on the court. Gets a kind of satisfaction being able to push this boy around.

And Eddie, who's there with his comments as they talk, will also have assumptions. He's known the guy longer. (If he ever really knew him. What more do you need when everyone else knows some.)

"Bill, he's just the usual, man." He takes a drag out of his cigarette, leaning on the side of his van. "Harrington. He's just a dude. I mean we're in Hawkins. Pretty boys like him got to be repressed. One way or another."

He scoffs, turning his head to him, eyebrows raised and hands waving vaguely in front of him, "have you seen him with Tommy? Before you came around those two were—" he puts up a tight fist and shakes it, like it would mean something. "Y'know? Tommy boy's been trailing after him since eighth grade."

Billy let's out a sharp laugh, stealing Eddie's cigarette, "calling me a homewrecker, Munson?"

"Is it homewrecking when you 'wreck' both parties? You ensnare Tommy away from the King and then you come round to have a chat with Harrington in the showers?" He let's Billy have the cigarette, crossing his arms as he leans in closer, "which, what was that about?"

(Eddie's been in this town, longer than the fresh meat Billy was supposed to be. Has seen the King parading around, stuck in his own little world. Head up in the clouds and not bothering to look down and check if his feet were even touching the ground. Til '83 that is.

It was weird. After Nancy Wheeler, sometime in November with all of them being gone for a while after two people go missing —one was Byers' little brother he remembers, he wasn't sure who the other one was, a girl?—only to come back with Wheeler on Jonathan Byers side of all places. Sweet and looking at each other like they've found someone who understands. Found someone who knows life outside. As if they knew there'd be more out there.

And Steve. Steve looked settled. Looked normal and still moving even when he looked at either of them, the couple. Like he knows he's small in this stupid town but doesn't feel tight in his own skin. That even though he hasn't found anyone like that, and even lost something he's still fine. That he's seen more and knows better even when he stood still. He's found out about the same things Byers and Wheeler had. Went through the motions. Was just waiting for a pin drop to be able to live. It fascinated, Eddie. He envied it. He scoffs in his mind, what would Steve Harrington know?

Will he ever get to know? The boy and the why?)

Billy rolls his eyes, taking one last drag from his cigarette before putting it out, dropping it on the concrete for hi to stomp, "fucking nothing, Edward."

Not nothing. He heard Eddie and his 'normal dude' rant. But he can't fool Billy. He knows the guy saw the same thing in Harrington he did. He was different and radiant in this stupid town while also fitting in perfectly. He was fucking lame and didn't know a single thing. But. He also knew some things. Makes it seem like the things he knows were life altering

Harrington was an enigma. A person with thoughts and feelings and in some kind of state. He was your average fucking prep. Image obsessed, vain, and so impossibly normal. And a flea who only knows the jar can't jump over the cap. But Steve. It's like he doesn't care. He doesn't know why he only knows this side of The King's rebrand. How he only knows one side to the story. How he knows Tommy and his weird obsession with Steve and how he left, and turned fucking bitch. Acted like he was now bottom of the barrel. But the King (although Billy has a feeling he isn't one anymore) is fine. Acted like dropping his nuclear friend group and demographic was nothing. Which in the grand scheme of things, maybe it wasn't. But it's supposed to be something, to boys like Steve Harrington. He doesn't know why he cares.

"Ouuh, fucking nothing, Edward, blah blah. Also, don't call me that." He huffs. "You're not the only one thirsting, William. Everyone wants, envies, covets at a piece of Steve Harrington. But again, he's just a dude. Hell, I had the hots for him too. Besides," he knocks shoulders with Hargrove, finger going up to flick at his piercing then to loop around a blonde curl.

"Ya got me right now."

Billy looks at him with considering gaze, before smirking. He straightens up off the van, "you wish, freak." He goes round to the back of the van, opening it up, before crawling in.

Eddie grins, scampering off after him. He pushes the both of them obssesed with Steve Harrington bit away from his mind. He's hanging with Billy.

Steve frowns a bit as he sees both men hop into the back of Munson's van. He was just passing by the parking lot. He sighs, scratching his head. He needs to go to another fucking bar. His nightmares are acting up again. Who knew the eerie light of the pool and his own house lights would make him twitch? What a life. He's okay though, pretty sure.

He smiles as he hops in the car. A night in Indy will fix him up. Surely. It always does. (And although Nancy –and Jonathan suprisingly– were worried, he assures them both as sweetly as he could that it was definitely not alcoholism. It's either more or less better than they expected. But he's glad his new friends slash two wheels he third wheels slash co-monster fighters were worried.)

As he drives off, he takes a glance at the rear view mirror, before shaking his head. Why would they hook up out in the open, in that back of the guy's van in a parking lot? Sure they could be hotboxing or some shit and smoking the weed in that dweeb Munson's lunchbox but Steve doubts that. With how hot the both of then are and how intensely they were looking at each other they were for sure fucking. He thought at least Hargrove would know better.

"Shame, shame," he shrugs, even though no one can see him, his expression set in 'it is what it is.' He wonders what he should wear and what he should order. He licks his lips and hums happily. He gets to feel alive for the weekend.

[juanabaloo]

one day i'll learn to make gifs but until then you get this little unhinged BTVS rant (with bonus pieces of other people's gifs).

ep: 3x19 choices - Faith is fully aligned with the Mayor and in her spiral. But she hasn't killed Prof. Lester Wirth yet, that's not until 3x21.

AND THEN THIS!

ep: 6x21 Two to Go - Willow stole magic powers from Rack and is in her spiral. She killed Warren in 6x20 Villains and has JUST killed Rack.

"It's way too late," said casually and cheerfully versus "I promise it's not too late," said with such aching hope. How Faith lashes back at Willow for hurting her. How Willow lashes back at Dawn for (inadvertently) hurting her. More script quotes below the cut if you want this to gnaw on your brain.

ep: 3x19 choices - Faith is fully aligned with the Mayor and in her spiral. But she hasn't killed Prof. Lester Wirth yet, that's not until 3x21.

"Check out the bookworm." "Faith!" [Willow is surprised] "Anyone with brains, anyone who knew what was going to happen to her, would try to claw her way out of this place. But you, you just can't stop Nancy Drewing, can you? Guess now you know too much and that kinda just naturally leads to killing."

"Faith, wait. I want to talk to you." "Oh yeah? Give me the speech again, please. [Faith is sarcastic here.] Faith, we're still your friends. We can help you. It's not too late." "It's way too late. [Willow says this quickly, calmly, cheerfully, casually.] You know, it didn't have to be this way."

[Faith's smile fades, she retracts, very very slightly.]

"But you made your choice. I know you had a tough life. [Faith is back to smirking.] I know that some people think you had a lot of bad breaks. Well, boo hoo! Poor you. You know, you had a lot more in your life than some people. [Faith studies Willow here, considering her violent options.] I mean, you had friends in your life like Buffy. Now you have no one. You were a Slayer and now you're nothing. You're just a big selfish, worthless waste."

[Faith punches Willow in the jaw and she falls to the ground.]

"You hurt me, I hurt you. I'm just a little more efficient."

[Faith pulls her knife on Willow. It seems like Faith might actually kill Willow, but The Mayor interrupts.]

COMPARE TO

ep: 6x21 Two to Go - Willow stole magic powers from Rack and is in her spiral. She killed Warren in 6x20 Villains and has JUST killed Rack. "Dawnie, what are you doing here? 'Cause if you're looking for me? Now's not a great time." "You look terrible." "Do I?"

... "I have to go." [Dawn is nervous]

[Dawn moves to the door but Willow appears blocking her way. Dawn cries out, definitely scared.]

"Why? So you can run and tell Buffy?" "Willow … please, just listen to me." "You don't have to talk. Just think real loud. I can hear you."

[Willow advances menacingly.]

"You're freaking me out." "Oh, don't be like that. I'm just a little wired. And I have some things to do. I thought if anybody'd understand - " "I miss Tara, too! But this? [Something plays over Willow's face. I think she pauses for a second, she feels the pain a little more.] What you're doing here? This is not the way to go! You're only going to make things worse! [Willow studies Dawn, considering her options. I think she steels herself for what she plans to do, resigned to it.] But I promise, it's not too late to - "

[Willow proceeds to be very cruel to Dawn. She hurts Dawn with her words, efficiently.]

"You miss her?" "Yes." "Did you cry? [Dawn is shocked.] Of course you did. I get that. I understand the crying, you cry because you're human. But you weren't always." "Yes, I was." "No, please. You're telling me you don't remember? You used to be some … mystic ball of energy. Maybe that's why you're crying all the time, Dawnie. 'Cause you don't belong here."

[Willow continues, taunting Dawn and mocking her, super cruel.]

[Willow backs Dawn into a wall. It seems like Willow might actually kill Dawn, but Buffy interrupts.]

Gifsets of some of this, both by starryeyesxx ep: 3 x 19 choices ep: 6 x 21 two to go

I think S6 Willow is eons scarier than S3 Faith, but Faith could have killed Willow with her knife, maybe. I think Faith is super glad The Mayor interrupted so she doesn't have to decide. Good doggie Faith (affectionate). I think Willow wanted to hurt Dawn, and then as she got going she thought death by Buffy was an OK option, and what better way to ensure death by Buffy than killing Dawn?

Also later in 6x21 Willow says, "I've got big party plans." Just like Faith in 3x10 Amends!

[mixsethaddams]

Robin and Nancy? Robin and Nancy.

“It was never about Steve, just so we’re clear,”

Robin paused, mouth full of soda while she processed what Nancy was trying to say.

“What…uh…Steve?” Robin stuttered, trying to catch up.

“Why I didn’t like you, at the beginning,” explained Nancy, short curls bouncing around her face while she spoke. “It was never about him. And I wanted you to know that,”

Robin carefully set her glass down on the table. The diner was quiet, tuesday nights were never busy in any part of Hawkins. Nancy toyed with the edge of a napkin, throwing a quick glance around to see if their waitress was coming back with their food any time soon.

“Ok…thank you?” ventured Robin.

“I just…” Nancy cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders, still looking down at the table between them. “Since we’re…doing this now, this, us… I need to get it out there,”

Robin’s stomach leapt at the mention of them being an us despite only a handful of unofficial dates as she leaned slightly over the table, raising her eyebrows to encourage Nancy to keep talking.

“Barb Holland was my best friend,” said Nancy quickly. “She meant a lot to me,”

Robin practically felt the floor fall out from under her.

“When she went missing you…” Nancy steeled herself again. “I heard you saying things about her that were cruel and mean and… You said a lot of things,”

Robin was frozen. She got the impression this had been rehearsed in the mirror.

“So I need to know why you did that,” finished Nancy with a sharp nod. “Why you said all that,”

Nancy’s gaze finally lifted from the table and locked onto Robin’s. Robin opened her mouth but nothing came out. She thought about Barb every day, but there were some things that not even Steve knew. There were some things that were too painful to remember.

“Well?” asked Nancy, her face like stone.

Robin took in a trembling breath and leaned back into her seat.

She didn’t know what do to, what to say. Barely knew how to say it. Never mind after being put so firmly on the spot like that. Robin’s mind raced. How would Nancy react if she knew the truth? Had Barb told her anything? Obviously not, if this was the conversation they were having.

The longer Robin stayed uncharacteristically silent, contemplating her next move, the harder Nancy’s face got.

Hell, Robin didn’t even know what that next move was going to be.

Robin thought of us. Whatever came next, it had to be to protect us.

“Truth is, Nance…” Robin started, folding her arms on the table. “I thought she stood me up, and I wanted to get back at her,”

Robin hated herself for finally admitting it. Hated admitting that the reason she spent two days backbiting and badmouthing Barb, her Barb, was for something so shallow. She’d heard the cheerleaders talk before a game. She’d picked up a few things on how to make someone feel guilty. All the little one-liners to make someone stomach clench and their mood plummet. Those girls were masters of ruining someone’s day and Robin used every piece of overheard ammo she could. Robin wanted to hurt Barb like she’d hurt her. Or at least, the way Robin had thought she’d been hurt.

“You and…” Nancy’s eyes grew wide. “Oh,”

“Yeah, oh” said Robin with a sarcastic laugh. “We were supposed to go out the day after Steve’s party. Right after school we were going to catch a bus to Jackson and spent the whole night just… walking around somewhere new, I guess? We had tickets to a movie and everything, my dad drove me out the day before so I could buy them,”

“Oh… Oh Robin,” sighed Nancy, putting a hand on Robin’s arm.

“She wasn’t in school that day, and I thought well maybe she skipped?” said Robin, her voice wobbling. “She never skipped but I didn’t want to think she was sick because then that would mean cancelling, you know?”

Robin quickly swiped a tear from under her eye with the edge of her sleeve.

“But then she wasn’t at the bus station either,” said Robin softly. “I didn’t even think about going by her house, her parents didn’t know about…me… I just went home instead. I think… I think if I had have gone there, that maybe I would have found out something was wrong sooner and not said the things I did,”

Nancy’s face had softened entirely. She was looking at Robin with wet eyes, trying to keep her bottom lip from pouting out.

“You didn’t know,” whispered Nancy. “It’s ok,”

“I swear, I swear I didn’t know,” said Robin.

“I know,” promised Nancy, squeezing Robin’s arm.

Their waitress appeared and dropped their plates between them. Nancy shuffled out of her side of the booth and pushed in beside Robin, grabbing her hand under the table to subtly lace their fingers together.

“I didn’t know about the two of you,” said Nancy quietly. “She never told me,”

“We never told anyone,” answered Robin. “I wish we did. If someone knew then I wouldn’t have been able to get away with trying to… bully her when she was already…”

“Gone,” said Nancy, finishing where Robin trailed off.

“I hate myself for it every day,” said Robin, clinging to Nancy’s hand. “Every single day I think I’d do anything if it meant I could take it back, and tell people how amazing she was instead,”

“She really was pretty amazing,” agreed Nancy.

Robin took a shaky breath.

“I… I don’t know if I can say this, you know, considering this, and all,” Robin squeezed Nancy’s hand for emphasis. “But… I really miss her, Nance. I think about her a lot,”

Nancy nodded.

“I do too,” she said. “And that’s ok,”

“It is?” asked Robin tentatively. “Some days it feels like I’m under water with how bad it feels,”

“It is,” said Nancy. “I get that way too sometimes. Thinking about how I could have stopped it,”

“You couldn’t-“

“You don’t need to do that,” said Nancy gently. “Thank you, but, you don’t,”

Robin nodded solemnly.

“We have each other now,” said Nancy. “We can be there for each other when it gets too much. I’ll keep your head above water if you do the same for me,”

“That sounds like a plan,” said Robin, feeling a small sense of relief.

“Good,” said Nancy. “Come on, don’t let your food go cold,”

Robin ate one-handed, the other still hanging on to Nancy’s. Thinking about Barb still made her world turn on it’s axis, but at least now Nancy Wheeler was there to keep her steady. She suddenly wasn’t alone with it anymore. They would face it together whenever they needed to.

They had each other.

Us.

[captain-gillian]

happy monday from the future & thanks for the tags @lemonlyman-dotcom @bonheur-cafe @nisbanisba @carlos-in-glasses @reyesstrand @paperstorm & @irispurpurea here's sevenish sentences of something new i'm working on

“Marwani, come in. Smoothie?” Captain Strand opens the door with a beaming smile, hands her a grey-green concoction with a glass straw in it, and sits behind his desk. “It has chia for omega threes, goji berries for an antioxidant boost and goat milk kefir for probiotics. It's always important to fortify your gut microbiome in times of stress. And don’t worry, I checked everything, and it’s all halal, even the kefir.”

“Uh, thanks.” Marjan accepts the smoothie, sipping warily as she sits across from her Captain, steeling herself to hear what she screwed up this time.

But he doesn’t scold; he sits forward and asks her sincerely, “How are your parents doing? Your sister?” 

Her shoulders soften as she sits deeper into the chair, relaxing a little knowing this wasn’t a reprimand but a check-in about the record-breaking hurricane that had decimated her former home of Miami. Captain Strand was always good like that to everyone on the team, and that’s another reason the place felt like such a second home. 

“They’re better off than most,” Marjan says, “The destruction missed my parents' place by one block, and they have water and power, so my sister, extended family and friends have been staying with them. They’re helping everyone out as best as they can. It could have been so much worse.”

Marjan wasn’t sure if it was by sheer luck or an act of God that her family had been spared. Either way, she was eternally grateful, she knew so many other families who hadn’t been so lucky. The casualty rates were climbing by the day. If things hadn’t worked out for her here in Austin, she could have been one of those numbers. She’d heard yesterday that the missing crew from her former firehouse had been found. There were no survivors.

as always, an open tag & no pressure tagging:

@nancys-braids @pelorsdyke @carlos-tk @rmd-writes @welcometololaland

@sugdenlovesdingle @literateowl @eclectic-sassycoweyes @alrightbuckaroo 

[best-fictional-detective]

BEST FICTIONAL DETECTIVE POLLS ARE UP, ROUND 1 HAS BEGUN

here's the current bracket for round 1! (click image for better quality)

Links to the polls:

SIDE A

Dick Gumshoe (Ace Attorney) vs Conan Edogawa (aka Jimmy Kudo) (Detective Conan)

Edogawa Ranpo (Bungou Stray Dogs) vs L Lawliet (Death Note)

Tintin (The Adventures of Tintin) vs Hershel Layton (Professor Layton)

Shuichi Saihara (Danganronpa) vs Looker (Pokemon)

Dirk Gently (Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency) vs Nancy Drew (Nancy Drew Mystery Stories)

Steve (Blues Clues) vs Inspector Gadget (Inspector Gadget)

Herlock Sholmes (Ace Attorney) vs Sherlock Holmes (Sherlock Holmes)

Hercule Poirot (Agatha Christie's Novels) vs Benoit Blanc (Knives Out)

SIDE B

Harry Du Bois and Kim Kitsuragi (Disco Elysium) vs Sam and Max (Sam & Max)

Detective Pikachu (Pokemon) vs Lieutenant Columbo (Columbo)

Oliver Beebo (Detective Beebo) vs Abe the Detective (Who Killed Markiplier?)

Juno Steel (The Penumbra Podcast) vs Hidari Shotarou (Kamen Rider W)

Bruce Wayne aka Batman (DC Comics) vs Tim Drake aka Robin (DC Comics)

Team Chaotix (Sonic the Hedgehog) vs The Scooby-Doo Gang (Scooby-Doo)

Nick Valentine (Fallout 4) vs Phryne Fisher (Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries)

Veronica Mars (Veronica Mars) vs Shawn Spencer (Psych)

Pick your favorite Blorbo! Round 1 ends in a week!

I'm a bit busy right now with exams, so I will be posting poll propaganda from the submissions throughout the week!

PLEASE send in propaganda, I want to see it!

Be patient with me, I am just little guy trying to get into college,,,

[metalhoops]

Like a lesser hero in a fantasy tale, the night was cut clean in two by the dull glow of a flashlight beam, flanked by two boys. It was an odd pastime but a familiar one to them. They had grown at home in the strange dark places of the town, aware of what might be lurking in the shadows between the pines. 

Eddie, the first boy, with his hair and clothes as black as the forest floor, shook the silent woods with the intermittent clatter of his stainless-steel rings on the metal shaft of the light, his makeshift weapon. Each ring was a treasured yet well-worn possession. The ear of the pig ring and the temple of the skull were permanently scratched from the repeated action.

Steve, the other boy, was more prepared. He came brandishing a baseball bat, its wooden body a sister to the surrounding trees with a halo of gnarled nails, hinting at the more sinister air of their surroundings.  

Unlike Eddie’s fantasy games, the backstory didn’t matter. It was the reason the boys were there, of course, but it was also the imminent threat they didn’t wish to speak of. In their shared pasts, there had been portals to other worlds, monsters beyond human comprehension and near-death experiences that’d brought on the winter of Eddie’s life, and the spring of Steve’s. 

Eddie had spent the past month jumping at shadows in the corner of his new bedroom or in the woods beyond the trailer park. Steve, on the other hand, had bloomed beautifully and brutally before Eddie’s eyes. Before the Upside Down, he would look at Steve and all he’d feel was ire, righteous indignation and a small yet frustrating, pang of lust. 

When he looked at Steve in the yellow glow of the torchlight, he saw a man who’d come when Eddie called, in the middle of the night, with haste and a plan. He saw someone who believed in him or at least, cared enough about him to go willingly into the night when Eddie had reported seeing sinister shapes shift past his window.

It was enough to get Steve to leave the confines of his isolated mansion and slum it with the poor folk down in the proverbial trenches. Eddie now saw a man he very well might be in love with. Jagged shadows cast by stray branches sliced across his face, resembling the snaking vines of the Upside Down. The boys had barely escaped the place and every moment after felt as though they were living on borrowed time. 

“What’d you say we do one more loop past the old train tracks and call it a night?” Steve asked, at last, his body sticking close to Eddie’s side. He felt a pang of guilt for dragging Steve out of bed, again, just to find nothing. 

“We can head back now, I’m probably going crazy, man.” 

“No, I wanna check. Otherwise, it’ll bug the hell outta me. We’ve all been a little crazy after everything we’ve been through. I mean, I’ve almost died like ten times. Think the eleventh time might be the one that sticks- you know?” 

It reminded them of another night, in another world. It had been a quick yet intimate conversation with a stranger. If we get out of this, Eddie had thought at the time, I might actually want to get to know this guy. Months had passed. He still felt like he didn’t know Steve enough to say what he wanted to say, but Steve needed to hear it. 

“That’d be a real bummer, you know? If you died. I wouldn’t have anyone to go on long walks in the moonlight with.” 

The two boys had fallen out of step with one another. Steve had charged forward in the semi-darkness leaving Eddie a few paces behind.

“Nancy would come with you.  After the first time, when Will and Nancy’s friend went missing, she’d swing by my house, and we’d sit on the deck chairs watching the pool. Honestly, you might be better off with her. She’d bring a gun,” Steve spoke, tossing the jagged bat from hand to hand, with the skill of an ex-high school sports star. 

“Why is it you and I always end up in the woods trying to set each other up with Nancy goddamn Wheeler?” Eddie spoke disbelievingly as he jogged to catch up with Steve. He laughed, his hand bumping Eddie’s side as the two fell back into step. 

“She’s not my type, Stevie. You can have her,” Eddie tacked on, trying to defuse some of the tension that had arisen between them, skimming his light amongst the trees. 

“I don’t think she’s my type either. Well— not anymore. We tried it. It didn’t work out. We wanted different things,” Steve admitted.

Once they reached the train tracks, Steve surveyed the old wood and rusted metal. The place also had history. He could smell freezer burn and rotten meat on the breeze. When looking at Eddie’s profile he felt a sudden charge to the air like the calm before a thunderstorm. 

He thought of a conversation he’d had years before with Dustin on those very tracks. He knew with sudden certainty why he’d hauled himself out of bed in the middle of the night, once again to chase Eddie’s hunches. He and Dustin had been talking about love.  He gave himself the same advice he’d given the kid all those years before. 

Don’t fall in love. It’ll only break your heart.

“Right, you wanted that whole hoard of kids and an R.V. vacation thing? Three girls, three boys. A whole brood of Harringtons,” Eddie breathed, kicking up dirt and leaves with his shoes. Steve shot Eddie a perplexed glance, surprised he’d been listening and shocked he’d remembered the statement word for word.

“Right, yeah. I know, make fun all you want, dude. It’s crazy I know.” Once more, they fell out of step. 

Eddie stopped while Steve kept walking, playing the role of a funambulist, his hands outstretched as though standing at a great height as he walked foot over foot across the thin metal. 

“This might surprise you Steve but for once I wasn’t going to give you shit,” Eddie replied, walking beside Steve, jumping from wooden beam to wooden beam. 

The metal track gave Steve a good half inch of height, making it so that for once the two weren’t eye to eye. Eddie kept flicking the light between the vast track ahead of them and the empty woods behind. He still felt as though any moment something could burst through the cracks in the earth left in the wake of the quake and drag them back down into Eddie’s personal version of hell. He couldn’t help but think of Steve’s words. The eleventh time would stick. Eddie didn’t know what he’d do without him. 

“So, what do you want?” Steve asked, shaking Eddie from his thoughts. When his answer didn’t immediately present itself, Steve continued.

“I mean, you know what I want. Six nuggets, touring the country. What do you want?” 

The question startled a scoff out of Eddie. It wasn’t as though anyone had bothered to ask him that before. He didn’t know. 

“I’ve got no clue. I’m not like you. I don’t sit around thinking about the future. I’m just trying to get through today,” Eddie confessed, speaking more candidly than he’d intended. 

“Alright. You don’t know what you want to do with the rest of your life. That’s pretty normal, but having nothing? Dude. You’ve gotta have something. Let’s start small. What do you want to do tomorrow?” 

“I don’t know. I wouldn’t mind having breakfast with my uncle and spending some time with the kids and the band. Maybe if I’m lucky I’ll get to see you, hopefully under some better circumstances,” Eddie explained as Steve misstepped, almost falling from his perch. 

He corrected himself, placing an outstretched hand on Eddie’s shoulder for balance. Eddie tried not to preen beneath the other boy’s touch. 

“I like the sound of that,” Steve confirmed, daring a glance at Eddie. 

The storm within him continued to brew. Eddie’s plans for whatever small future stretched out before them involved Steve, which was more than he’d gotten from anyone else.

Nancy wanted a career in investigative journalism. She wanted to change the world for the better. It was a noble goal. One Steve had admired endlessly but he couldn’t help but feel like a small child asking for a seat at the grown-up table when trying to compete with the hopes and dreams of Nancy Wheeler. For her, he would’ve changed his dreams to play a small part in her life, but he’d come to realise that wasn’t a good way to love. 

Every relationship Steve had went to hell eventually. He didn’t want the same fate with Eddie. He wanted to continue walking the fine line between friendship and whatever awaited them on the other side of the electric storm. Steve didn’t know if he was ready for all the complications being in love with Eddie would entail. It’d wreak havoc on his sense of self and take a hatchet to his dreams of white picket fences. That was on the slim chance Eddie felt the same way about him. 

When Steve looked at Eddie he felt as though he were back at the bottom of Lovers Lake. To love Eddie was to drown beneath the crushing weight of possibilities. 

“You okay?” Eddie asked, a hint of concern in his tone. 

It was only then that Steve realised he’d stopped walking, his knuckles turning white as his fingers dug into the fabric of Eddie’s jacket. 

No. Steve was far from okay, but he couldn’t voice it without ruining everything. 

“I need a minute,” Steve muttered, stumbling back from Eddie, removing his hand as though he’d grabbed the wrong end of a hot poker. 

He’d moved on instinct, forgetting where he stood on his precarious perch. He tumbled ass backwards off the train tracks, trying to save whatever sense of dignity he had left by scrambling to his feet quickly. He heard his bat clatter to the forest floor as he headed off into the woods, unsure of his direction. He needed space to sort his head out. 

There were only two ways Steve knew how to face a crisis; two base and primal instincts, fight or run. Eddie wasn’t a wayward creature that devoured cats or a schoolyard bully. He couldn’t punch himself loveless and doing anything to hurt Eddie was worse than torture. 

Steve wanted Eddie to hit him. It’d shake loose some of the tension in his chest at the sight of the boy’s brown eyes; the eyes that reminded Steve of the deep warm wood that was fashionable in homes during his childhood. The familiar floorboards of the entryway where he’d lay with Tommy after hours of swimming, drip-drying on the wood, warping it to the shape of their bodies. 

Eddie’s eyes reminded him of home. Not the place he’d grown up in, but the sensation one felt when they recalled a fond memory, years removed from context and complications. Steve couldn’t imagine a future where Eddie would hurt him, even if that’s what he wanted. 

He did what he did best. He ran away. 

Without Eddie’s flashlight, the woods were a gaping maw of some unseen creature. Even the breeze on the back of his neck felt warm. Steve collapsed at the base of a tree and searched his pockets for a lighter. He didn’t bring his cigarettes but there was something soothing about the weight of the object in his hand and the repeated action of sparking the flint and extinguishing the fire with a twist of his wrist. 

Steve heard approaching footsteps signalled by the crunch of leaves underfoot.  He prayed Eddie wouldn’t ask why he’d run. If he asked, Steve knew he’d tell him. Then they’d both be screwed. 

Steve tried to spark the lighter again, but no flame would ignite. It was out of lighter fluid. Just his goddamn luck.  

“Steve?” Eddie’s voice echoed through the trees. 

The direction was all wrong. Eddie’s call came from a distance. The footsteps were close. Right goddamn on top of him. Fuck. 

Steve acted fast, fumbling in the underbrush, trying to find a weapon. He grabbed a stray branch with enough heft to wield. He was good at making use of what he had. He held the wood aloft, scrambled to his feet and fumbled with the lighter, desperate to get one last spark out of it. He knew how much the creatures hated fire. In a way, he was thankful that he knew what he was dealing with for once. 

The swiftness of the footfalls and the length of the shadows cutting through the blackness let him know within seconds he would be face to face with a full-sized Demogorgon. 

Steve felt the creature before he saw it. A sudden force collided into his body knocking him from his feet. He had just enough time to get the jagged end of the stick between himself and the creature. He felt the branch wade into the creature’s soft flesh. 

Eddie called his name once more, drawing the creature's attention away from him. Steve had an opening.

His trembling hands flicked the lighter again. This time, for a brief and brilliant moment, it sparked. He shoved the naked flame against the creature's wound. He wasn’t sure if he’d hurt it or just made it mad. It thrashed and writhed, grabbing at Steve’s body, and pounding him into the damp earth. Now Steve had its attention. 

He tried to strike out but this time the monster was too quick, its body bared down on Steve and before he knew it, he was face to face with the monster's strange unfurling flesh mouth and razor-sharp teeth. So, this was how he’d die. 

“Mother fucker,” Eddie muttered as two shifting figures caught his attention. 

Steve was pinned to the ground by something that looked fresh out of his nightmares. The others had told him there were more things out there than the bats and demonic, skinless hell-wizard they’d faced but Eddie’s mind had never been able to conjure a creature that would match the true beast before him. 

Steve was doing his best to keep the creature at arms-length. A rotted wooden branch cut at the palm of Steve’s hands and had gone straight through the thing’s body.  Eddie scoured his brain, trying to remember everything he’d been told about the creature. Heat. They hated heat. 

Eddie had grabbed Steve’s bat as he followed him. He’d wanted to be the kind of person who could give Steve space but every fibre of his being had told him to chase after the boy so he had. 

He dropped the flashlight to free up a hand and searched the pockets of his jacket, thankful he always had his lighter handy. He knew Steve would be pissed if Eddie torched his favourite weapon, but desperate times called for desperate measures. He’d rather have Steve pissed than not have him at all. 

He set fire to the bat, throwing more hellish shadows over the wicked tableau of the snarling beast and the desperate boy pinned beneath its grasp. The smell of burning wood and flesh hung heavy in the air. He had the element of surprise on his side. 

The flaming bat collided with the creature’s skull sending it reeling. It let out an inhuman whaling that scattered the nightbirds. Eddie readied the bat to swing again, expecting the beast to charge. Instead, it ran off into the blackness of the night. It’d finally happened. What they all knew had been inevitable. The Upside Down, and in turn Vecna was back. Though for now, he and Steve had brought themselves time. 

Eddie watched as Steve sat wide-eyed but seemingly unharmed. He guessed Steve Harrington had more lives left in him yet. Thank Christ. 

“Please tell me that looked as badass as it felt,” Eddie breathed trying to alleviate some of the tension between them. 

He dropped the bat, snuffing out what was left of the flame and moved unthinkingly to pat down Steve’s body, checking for wounds. He had a gash on his forehead and a split lip, but he’d live. 

“It looked pretty badass,” Steve confirmed and froze as Eddie’s hands raked through his hair. 

“You’ve got something in your...” Eddie’s voice trailed off as he pulled a leaf out of Steve’s hair, holding it aloft in front of his face. 

Steve’s eyes glanced from the leaf to Eddie before tentatively reaching out, his hands searching the planes of his body, dancing cautiously over the barely healed wounds that’d once littered his side. Steve was checking him over.

“I’m okay. You okay?” Eddie assured holding up a hand before reaching into the back pocket of his jeans. 

He pulled out his bandana and inched forward to wrap it around the gash on Steve’s head. The boy cringed beneath his touch. Eddie muttered an apology. 

“I’ll live,” Steve confirmed leaning back, trying to get some space between them. 

Eddie hadn’t realised how close they were. He shifted back, remembering with sudden clarity that Steve had practically begged Eddie to give him a second alone. He wasn’t willing to do that, given they’d already run into one hell beast that night. There could be others. He did something uncharacteristic. Eddie Munson sat with Steve in silence. 

They sat in stillness for so long that the birds and insects returned to the woods around them. 

“I’m sorry,” Eddie spoke when the silence was too loud. He didn’t know what he was apologising for, but he couldn’t think of anything better to say. 

Steve looked up at the boy with alarm. 

“What’re you sorry for?” He asked, feeling as though he was caught in another echo of the past. 

He remembered a seemingly endless car ride to Nancy’s house, trying to find ways to apologise for some transgression he wasn’t sure he’d committed. He’d wanted to apologise because he’d loved Nancy and he’d been scared of losing her. 

He wondered what motivations were behind Eddie’s apology. He worried that The Upside Down’s strange relationship with time had leaked into Hawkins, that some pasts were destined to repeat. 

“I don’t know,” Eddie admitted after a breath, letting out a nervous laugh. 

“I’m sorry for doing whatever I did to make you go all space cadet on me. Tell me what I did, and I can tell you I’m sorry,” he continued. 

Steve was certain at that moment, Eddie loved him too. It was already too late to change things. They were trains on a track, their futures seemingly already locked in place.

“You know if you want someone to talk to about whatever’s going on in that head of yours, I’m here Steve,” Eddie kept pushing, unable to take Steve’s silence as an answer. 

His tone was so soft, sincere and unlike anything that Steve expected from the boy that he couldn’t help but speak the words out loud, despite his better judgment. 

“I love you.” 

Eddie had thought he’d been prepared for anything, but he hadn’t been prepared for that. It was then that Steve let out a strangled sound between a scoff and a groan. 

“And it's screwed now. I always mess it up.”  

Eddie could hardly hear the boy’s voice over the rush of blood in his ears. His heart was a high-strung choir, singing the same repeated tune, ‘Steve loves me’. When his common sense kicked into gear, he noted the panic in Steve’s eyes and knew he needed to say something. 

“I love you too,” Eddie managed, feeling both heavier and lighter. 

He’d never said it before. He sure as hell hadn’t pictured a world where he’d admit he loved a boy before they’d started dating. Steve was moving at a breakneck speed and Eddie was desperately trying to catch up. To his surprise, Steve hardly stirred at the confession. 

“I know,” Steve admitted sounding broken as his eyes met Eddie’s. He gave the boy a tight-lipped grimace. All of Eddie’s momentary joy fell just as it’d begun to soar. 

“Please tell me that was a Star Wars reference,” Eddie whispered, earning a real smile from Steve. It was soft and fleeting as freshly felled snow on a warm palm. He knew despite all of Steve’s posturing, he was a huge nerd when it came to science fiction. 

“Eds, my track record...” Steve’s voice trailed off. 

Eddie realised the thing Steve had been dancing around. They were still talking about Nancy goddamn Wheeler in the woods. 

“Stevie,” he breathed, for once at a loss for words. 

He was a storyteller, but he didn’t want to give Steve a story. He couldn’t promise him a world where everything was perfect. They lived in a land of blight and monsters, a time of trouble. The town was still after Eddie’s head on a pike and Steve was running out of goodwill with those that’d once called him king. He wanted to show Steve what they were. 

Damn the past. Kill all possible futures. All they had was the brief and infinite present. 

Eddie wanted to show Steve what they could be at that moment. 

He crossed the space between them, pausing for a breath, leaving room for Steve to push him away. When no such protest arose, he placed one hand on Steve’s cheek, the other cupping the nape of his neck. 

“I’m not good at this either,” Eddie admitted tentatively. 

He’d kissed guys before. It’d always been desperate and sloppy. He didn’t want loving Steve to feel like an afterthought as it had with the other men. 

“But I think it’s worth a shot,” Eddie concluded. 

He’d laid everything out on the table, all that was left was for Steve to pick it up or turn it down. 

Steve didn’t surge forward. Instead, he moved achingly slow. One hand landed on Eddie’s thigh, the other tangled in his hair. He gave a gentle tug to pull him that last inch closer. 

Eddie’s lips were wind-chaffed and cool, melting ice on bare skin, shocking and a good kind of painful. Steve’s face had the faintest hint of stubble, it was rough as the rocks, and forest foliage beneath their bodies. He smelled of wet earth, blood, and faded cologne. Their hands traced each other’s topography with fingers, lips and tongues, toppling over in the process. 

When they pulled apart the whole world seemed to hold its breath. The wind was still. The night was silent. An invisible audience waited with bated breath for a conclusion. 

“Christ,” Eddie choked, hand fluttering dramatically to his heart. It was a kick drum in his chest. 

Steve’s hand followed, sliding beneath Eddie’s shirt. 

“Christ,” Steve echoed with a goofy grin. Eddie loved him. The thought came easily. It was the only thought populating his mind. 

“We should probably, you know, shelve this and try to stop the world ending... again,” Eddie proposed, trying to think straight. 

“Only if you promise to take me on a date after,” Steve countered. He pulled himself to his feet and extended a hand to Eddie. 

“Me take you? You’re meant to be the ladies' man with the killer dates,” Eddie argued, falling into step with Steve easily. 

“Exactly. It’d be nice to be the one getting the flowers for a change. Technically you’re the one who wanted to give this a shot. I’ll get the second date.” 

Eddie scoffed disbelievingly. The cocky bastard.  He’d never picked Steve as someone who liked flowers. He’d give Steve a garden, a forest, a kingdom. 

“Alright, save the world. Buy you flowers. Go on a first date. Go on a second date. Seems like I might actually have a plan for the next few days down pact.” 

“And after that?” Steve prompted. 

“If you want me to say six nuggets and a Winnebago you’ve gotta buy me dinner first.” 

[peterlorrefanpage]

"His face is amazing in its changing lights and shadows. It is, in the space of a second or two, pleasant, amused, sinister and sad. Interesting, clever, kind and smiling, that face. . . obviously cannot be cataloged with any other face in the world." - a journalist in 1935, about Peter Lorre.

What we really need is a Peter Lorre Flip Book, only it would have to be a digital/online one because just one set of pictures for one instance of Peter Lorre would comprise 10s of 10000s and even then you wouldn't get all of his expressions. Still. Anyone want to try? 😛

The above series of portraits was made in 1936 during the filming of Nancy Steele Is Missing! A studio photographer did indeed attempt to capture "Lorre’s outstanding ability to reveal psychological complexity as the varying emotions chase each other across those extraordinarily mobile features."

Peter is 32 in these pictures. Source

That top middle one is divine, and I'll always like the last one seen through the bars where he's all dejected - I could keep going about each of these. But this one below, I keep coming back to. Something especially compelling about it, or resonating with part of my psyche at this moment, I don't know.

[i-love-love]

i wanna know what I can forsake / just to be close - Chapter 6

(Honey, we should run away, our baby and her mama and the damaged love she makes.)

Chrissy is on top of the world, until she isn’t; Eddie is there for all of it. When Jason’s cruelty sends her into Eddie’s arms for comfort, she’s left in a predicament— she’s pregnant and unsure who the father is. Life as she knows it doesn’t have room for the person Chrissy is becoming, and she’s left with two choices: give in to a life of swallowed tongues and clenched teeth, or creating a new life for herself with room for all the love she needs.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Words: 51,172

Rating: Mature

Pairings: Eddie/Chrissy

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Miss Kelley’s words are still rattling around in her head as she kneels over the toilet during the start of fifth period.

Are you still throwing up after lunch?

Sounds like you’ve been experiencing a lot of changes lately.

I think you should be very careful how you speak about this. If you tell me that something happened I’m obligated to report it to the police, and an accusation like that could ruin a young man’s life.

Maybe it would be good for you to try to make some new friends outside your current circle.

The words make her as sick as the cottage cheese does. She still isn’t speaking to Mandy— or rather, Mandy still isn’t speaking to her— but she’s mostly sticking to this diet they’d agreed to do together, even two weeks since she’d been laughed out of the lunch room, the last little promise of their apparently dead friendship.

A pair of sensible ballet flats stand at the counter when she turns to unlock the door. She hadn’t heard anyone come in and prays they don’t say anything, don’t ask her if she’s okay or try to get her to go to the nurse’s office.

With a steadying breath to steel herself for the inevitable oh-I’m-fine-ing, she leaves the stall. The sensible flats belong to Nancy Wheeler, who is reapplying her lipstick and very politely nods in silence at Chrissy as she comes over to wash her hands.

“I don’t think it’s fair how people have been acting toward you,” Nancy finally says, checking her teeth in the mirror. “That’s high school, I guess, but still.”

Chrissy knows that Nancy knows all too well how nasty their classmates can be. It took the movie theater a week and a half to clean off that orange graffiti— Nancy ‘the slut’ Wheeler— back when they were sophomores. Though she hadn’t known all the details, Chrissy had always privately thought she hadn’t deserved that— Nancy was a nice girl, always had been.

They’d taken ballet lessons together when they were little, until Laura pulled her out to send her off to beauty pageants and cheer camp. Mrs. Wheeler always brought extra orange slices, though, and Nancy liked that Chrissy’s leotard was just a little sparkly. As time passed and they’d developed different interests, different friend circles, they’d grown apart, but Nancy had never been anything but nice.

“At least we’re almost out of here,” Chrissy shrugs. “Want some gum?” she asks, pulling out her post-puke kit.

“Sure, thanks!” Nancy accepts and leans against the counter to watch while Chrissy swipes coverup under her eyes. “Y’know, if you’re in the market for new friends, I was thinking about picking up a movie from Family Video tonight and having a night in. You could join me, if you want.”

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

The official Genshingorls Waifu Tier List

So, I've had you all answer a lot of polls that tells me what a good percentage (of the ones that voted anyway) like, but I never really went into detail of my personal preference/hot takes.

It's time to unveil the curtains, and see how much respect I lose from ya'll! (My takes are 100% objective btw)

Doesn't really correspond to how much I enjoy writing them, solely on a scale of whether I'd date them or not.

Also, a comment by a friend:

=== Tier explanation:

You don't know her but trust me she's god tier - Not in the character list I write for but by god do I love them PUT THIS RING ON - 100% would marry on the spot IRL Dating Material - Like them a lot, but missing a little something. MY BESTO FRIENDO - "A staff of friendship. "We should be good friends" means she doesn't want to date you." - Rune Factory 4 No - Wouldn't date/Not at all my personal taste "Boss, those are just kids!" - Self explanatory, hopefully.

Let me know if you guys agree/want to now leave a pipe bomb in my inbox! I think this is the first time I've been this straightforward how I feel about a good chunk of the characters I write for on this blog. ===

Genshin Impact:

If some of you are wondering why I don't write for "x" character from the newer regions, that dark green tab should hopefully explain a LOT of things.

Under the cut for even worse takes!

Persona 3/4/5:

Besides the Genshin one, I feel like this list in particular will get me shot on the street. And Minato shouldn't even be here, but I love him as much as Minako.

Girls' Frontline:

Is my type showing yet? Because I feel like the Raifus should be making it VERY obvious of who I lean to.

Fire Emblem Engage:

Rosado my beloved. That is all I have to say.

Fire Emblem Three Houses:

No one will ever beat my first love that is Ingrid, because she critted Dimitri and Solo'd Rhea after everyone died, saving my ass in my Crimson Flower run.

Trails of Cold Steel:

Man, I really need to write for Cold Steel more. They've been rotting in the askbox for a while now.

Rune Factory 4:

NANCY, MY LOVE, MY LIGHT

Rune Factory 5:

Megan T. Harvey also voiced Towa from Cold Steel, which is why I gunned it for Priscilla INSTANTLY I first played 5. Then Scarlett dropkicked her out the way.

[hippielittlemetalhead]

Okay but hear me out!

Punk King Steve 'The Hair' Harrington! He starts to go Punk even before season 1!

Just! Hear me out!?!

What about pre season 1 Steve goes on one last business trip with his parents to like New York or Boston or something cause he still had hope that maybe if he went with them after a victorious sophomore year making Varsity and actually having decent grades and a reputation at school built on charm and being a good little Harrington heir his parents would actually act like they care. What happens is he ends up being dragged along to and shown off at boring dinner parties but is otherwise left alone and unsupervised. He stumbles across a music store where he is obviously out of place but the music playing is loud and angry and matches the knot filling up his chest. So he spends most of the trip exploring the city with this group of people who recognize the anger in him and aren't the type to gatekeep cause what's more punk than finding your own path? Even if it's not the same as theirs he still deserves the space to find out.

And yeah he seems more the 'infiltrate and dismantle' type than the 'throw a flaming brick' type but the spirit is there.

So he learns to coiff his hair and make it big but not so much his mom would kill him. He learns to wear pants and style his shirts so they accentuate his form not make him look soft and respectable and to accessorize in small ways that are obvious to those who are observant enough to look and to those who know what to look for but still not be so showy his parents will get on him for anything. He gets a bunch of tapes and spends time making mixtapes of his favorites and buys a walkman so he can listen to his music without his parents hearing. He learns how to discreetly add a bit of blush and natural tinted mascara and tinted chapstick cause he learns he likes makeup but that sort of thing would cause problems in a place like Hawkins. He builds a greater tolerance with these people he's come to trust and learns you can actually enjoy getting drunk when it's just being stupid with some friends and not meant to make a statement. And before he has to go home he's gifted a bottle of sheer pink nail polish that makes his nails look healthy and taken care of and natural but he'll know and that's all that matters.

Steve goes back to Hawkins a little different, a little meaner, a little looser and more self-assured. Steve goes back to Hawkins and notices Nancy Wheeler. The perfect prissy princess with an edge that intrigued him even if he saw it by accident. And he spends the entire time he woos and subsequently dates her trying to bring that out, that bit of steel and fire that still really worked with her soft hyper femme aesthetic. And he falls head over heels for this girl who is soft but resilient and polite but opinionated and who obviously wants MORE and he wants to give it to her.

But then Will Byers goes missing, followed by Barb and Nancy is showing her steel but at the side of Jonathan Byers as his parents leave messages extending their trip and leaving forwarding numbers that he knows won't work when he really needs them. And he breaks the camera and that makes him feel like he's falling back into who he was before the music and the summer away from this small town. They fight in an alley after he says things he doesn't believe but knows would hurt because he couldn't get the clawing in his chest to just go away. And he takes the beating because he knows he was wrong and he remembers the scared looks people gave him that one time he got into a bar fight he doesn't actually remember but knows he won with a guy who wouldn't take a no from one of the girls in the group Steve was drinking with.

So he takes the beating and doesn't press charges and goes to apologize after dumping Tommy and Carol and comes face to face with something from his worst nightmares. He goes back after running away because he can't leave them there. He picks up a bat with nails run through it and lets loose the thing clawing in his chest. He keeps himself between the monster and the others and he keeps them safe. Will comes home. Barb doesn't.

He goes to Indianapolis for a new camera for Jonathan and comes back with more angry music. He keeps making trips and comes back with the sides of his hair shaved in not quite a Mohawk but close and a tattoo or two in places he can hide easily and a heavy leather jacket. The changes make the pacing thing in his chest quiet some and he wears a smile around Nancy and the Hollands and he walks tall through the hallways of Hawkins High his senior year.

Tommy Hagan tries to say he went bitch for Nancy Wheeler since he doesn't sleep around anymore or take his frustrations out on those weaker and less fortunate than him and he tries to say Steve is joining the freaks like Munson and his nerds but even they won't have him. Tommy Hagan and some others try to jump Steve in an empty hallway after school and before practice to "teach the dethroned King a lesson", because if Byers could leave him a bloody mess then he was never that tough. The others sport bruises and split lips and bruised egos. Tommy Hagan had a broken nose and bruised ribs and a look of fear when he's within 10 feet of his former best friend.

Steve Harrington has no throne and no court but he still undeniably wears the crown.

(part 2) (part3.1)

[peterlorres21stcentury]

Peter made a lot of movies 🎦

This list is as much a resource for me as it is for all Peter Lorre fans! I'm reorganizing my physical media collection and curating all the PL films in particular, but I realized that my Internet Archive collection is incomplete. If you don't see a link to a particular film, it's because:

Titles in red mean that I DO NOT own either a physical or a high quality digital copy of this film.

Titles in blue mean that I DO own a physical or high quality digital copy, but I have not yet uploaded it out of plain forgetfulness.

I'll be working to upload as much as I can in the next few months. If you happen to have a link to a high-quality copy of any of the movies in red on this list, please let me know!

You may share this list widely, but remember some of these films are under an assumed name, hiding from the copyright gremlins. Shh. ;)

M (1931)

Bomben Auf Monte Carlo (1931)

Die Koffer Des Herrn O. F. (1931)

Der weiße Dämon (1932)

Fünf von der Jazzband (1932)

Schuß im Morgengrauen (1932)

Stupéfiants (1932)

F.P.1 Antwortet Nicht (1932)

M (English dub) (1932)

Unsichtbare Gegner (1932)

Du haut en bas (1933)

Les requins du pétrole (1933)

Was Frauen träumen (1933)

The Man Who Knew Too Much (1934)

Crime And Punishment (1935)

Mad Love (1935)

Crack Up (1936)

Secret Agent (1936)

Lancer Spy (1937)

Nancy Steele Is Missing! (1937)

Thank You, Mr. Moto (1937)

Think Fast, Mr Moto (1937)

I'll Give a Million (1938)

Mr. Moto's Gamble (1938)

Mr. Moto's Last Warning (1938)

Mr. Moto Takes A Chance (1938)

Mysterious Mr. Moto (1938)

Mr. Moto in Danger Island (1939)

Mr. Moto Takes A Vacation (1939)

Island of Doomed Men (1940)

I Was An Adventuress (1940)

Strange Cargo (1940)

Stranger on the Third Floor (1940)

You'll Find Out (1940)

Mr. District Attorney (1940)

The Face Behind The Mask (1941)

The Maltese Falcon (1941)

They Met in Bombay (1941)

All Through the Night (1942)

Casablanca (1942)

The Boogie Man Will Get You (1942)

Invisible Agent (1942)

Background to Danger (1943)

The Constant Nymph (1943)

The Cross of Lorraine (1943)

Arsenic and Old Lace (1944)

Hollywood Canteen (1944)

Passage to Marseille (1944)

The Conspirators (1944)

The Mask of Dimitrios (1944)

Confidential Agent (1945)

Hotel Berlin (1945)

Black Angel (1946)

The Beast With Five Fingers (1946)

Three Strangers (1946)

The Chase (1946)

The Verdict (1946)

My Favorite Brunette (1947)

Casbah (1948)

Rope Of Sand (1949)

Double Confession (1950)

Quicksand (1950)

Der Verlorene (1951)

Beat the Devil (1953)

20,000 Leagues Under the Sea (1954)

Around the World in 80 Days (1956)

Congo Crossing (1956)

Meet Me In Las Vegas (1956)

Hell Ship Mutiny (1957)

Silk Stockings (1957)

The Buster Keaton Story (1957)

The Sad Sack (1957)

The Story of Mankind (1957)

The Big Circus (1957)

Scent Of Mystery (1960)

Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea (1961)

Five Weeks in a Balloon (1957)

Tales of Terror (1962)

The Comedy Of Terrors (1963)

The Raven (1963)

Muscle Beach Party (1964)

The Patsy (1964)