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#before i got it and she'd forward them to my house (6 hours away) and say that it was against the rules to talk with former students.
lostjulys · 2 years
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c!clingyduo was just like. hey! we're best friends! us against the world! except then it was them against the world and the world shattered them, through no fault of their own (they are sixteen. they are not atlas. they crush under the weight of the world), and they splintered apart, aching with the aloneness of being apart from your best friend, and it wasn't them against the world, it was them, alone. and they could not survive alone. when you are sixteen and you are deeply, truly alone, the world is terrifyingly cruel. when you are sixteen and you want nothing more than to be with your best friend, and you cannot be, and there is nothing else that is kind to you, you hurt, and it's horrifying, to be truly alone. to know that the single constant you've always had, you've always trusted, is gone. and they'll never be whole again, after being splintered like that.
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kookicat · 2 years
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I posted 6,562 times in 2021
40 posts created (1%)
6522 posts reblogged (99%)
For every post I created, I reblogged 163.1 posts.
I added 100 tags in 2021
#leverage - 21 posts
#eliot spencer - 19 posts
#fanfic - 14 posts
#parker - 11 posts
#whump - 9 posts
#alec hardison - 7 posts
#fanfiction - 6 posts
#life stuff - 5 posts
#christian kane - 4 posts
#sophie devereaux - 4 posts
Longest Tag: 70 characters
#yes i know the formatting is off but it's 3am and i'll fix it tomorrow
My Top Posts in 2021
#5
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65 notes • Posted 2021-03-01 00:09:47 GMT
#4
A Gift of Telling & Trust
Nate's words fade away and for a moment, they're all quiet, absorbing the story. There's a sheen in Sophie's eyes that looks suspiciously like tears, and Parker has curled into Hardison's side, resting her head on his shoulder. He's got one arm around her, thumb rubbing absent circles on her side.
Eliot clears his throat, feeling just a little self conscious, and downs the last of his long neck before he speaks. "Before… Before my Mom died," he starts, voice soft, reflective, because it's been a while since he dug up the memories, and he's not sure how they're going to make him feel. "I was twelve, Erin was ten. Mom had been wanting a puppy for a couple of years, and one of my friend's farm dogs was having a litter." He smiles at the memory and glances up, seeing everyone's eyes on him. He's not sure why, but it feels comfortable, and he feels the smile get a bit bigger. "They were seven weeks old on Christmas eve, all bitty black and white things. Only one girl, and we picked her and snuck her in the house. We'd saved up our allowance to buy food and such. She slept on my bed, and we put a bow on her and took her downstairs at the crack of dawn." He pauses, accepting a fresh bottle from Hardison, giving the label a quick check to make sure the other man isn't slipping him one of his weird brews. He's not sure he'll ever cleanse his senses of the last one- pumpkin spice and mint, for christsakes, but the bottle is one of his favourites and he twists the top off.
"What happened?" Parker asks, because she's an instant gratification sorta girl, but they're all still watching him, waiting for the end of the story.
"Well Mom fell instantly in love," he says, lip quirking into a smile, "Dad took some convincing, threatened to take the belt to me but I'm pretty sure he was smitten too."
The end of the story isn't so happy, and he's not sure he wants to tell it and break the spell. "They were inseparable. Mom named her Dodie."
"101 Dalmatians? I loved that book." Sophie asks, and he glances at her, nodding.
"What happened to her?" Parker leans forward to poke him and he bats her hand away, gently.
Part of him wants to lie and tell them a happy ending, but life doesn't work that way. "She was in the truck with my Mom when a drunk driver ran them off the road. They hit a tree. Both killed instantly," he says, and his voice only cracks a little.
It's a hard memory, but he's mostly made his peace with it. It's nice, too, to be able to remember his family and share that with his new one.
Sophie presses her hand against his arm. "I'm sorry, Eliot. I had no idea."
He covers her hand with his own, for a beat. "It's okay. Thank you."
Another memory sneaks in, one he'd all but forgotten about and he laughs, earning startled looks from the others that only make him laugh harder. It takes him a second to get control and he's pretty sure they think it's the start of a hysterical breakdown.
"I'm fine," he says, and waves his hand. "Just remembered something. My fourteenth birthday, Dad decided I was finally old enough to learn how to use the grill. Bought a big rack of ribs. Damn dog stole them from the counter. We spent half an hour chasing her around the yard but every time we got close, she'd manage to escape. I'd never seen my Dad so mad." He laughs again, then takes a swig of his beer, content to settle back into silence and just enjoy the memory.
They spend an agreeable hour, just trading bullshit stories about past jobs before they decide to call it a night.
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94 notes • Posted 2021-09-03 10:55:49 GMT
#3
The Chocolate Job
Chocolate work has never been his favourite- it's messy and fiddly and most days he's just not in the mood for it. But sometimes, the urge strikes him, and he locks himself away in whatever kitchen space they have with a 5lb bag of Callebaut chocolate buttons and gives into the urge. Usually it's truffles, or brownies, but this time he has something else in mind. 
Breanna had shown him a clip of the Chocolate Man (that's what she called him, capital letters and all) on the Tik Toc and well, the idea of sculpting something hadn't left his brain, tucking away like a damn earworm until he'd given in. He's starting small, mostly so he can melt the results down and hide them in his triple chocolate brownies if it all goes to crap. 
The chocolate melts smoothly and he mixes in more buttons, checking the temp until it's tempered and will set crisp and shiny. It's almost Christmas and he's picked up a set of moulds that should produce a chocolate gingerbread house, if he's lucky. If not, he's a professional and will hide all the evidence until he can try again. 
He pours the chocolate slowly, to make sure there's no air bubbles to ruin the structural integrity, and leaves them to set while he whips up some cookies to fill the inside. They're chocolate too, because he might as well stick with the theme. The dough comes together smoothly under his hands, and he lets his thoughts wander a little, now he's back on more familiar baking territory. 
Breanna is going to love this, he thinks, hands automatically patting the dough into a disk to be chilled. Unless Parker steals it first. Maybe I should make two. He snorts, and dumps the dough into the freezer, then raids the candy cupboard for decorations. There's stuff in every colour and form and he sifts through the packages until he finds one that catches his eye. They're Christmas m&m's, in bright green and red, and he lifts the bag down, popping a couple in his mouth before he dumps the rest in a bowl. Gotta have some quality control, he thinks and sneaks another before washing his hands. 
The stainless steel counter is chilly, and the chocolate house parts have set up nicely. He poppa them free, carefully and lines them up on the counter while he grabs the cookie dough from the freezer and cuts rounds out of it. They go on a baking sheet, topped with just a touch of flaky salt, before he slides them into the oven. 
Now for the fiddly part, he thinks, half amused, because if someone had told him ten years ago he'd be building houses out of chocolate and enjoying it, he would have laughed in their face. And then got Hardison to find them a nice comfy padded room. It's not that he's grown more patient over the years, or at least he doesn't think so - it's more he can relax a little more now, because they're not the only ones doing the work. Though I'm still not sure Quinn will ever quite forgive me for dragging him into his, he thinks and grins, thinking of Quinn's last text. It had been borderline illegal in several states, but he'd picked up a couple of new curses, including one that had made Harry Wilson blush and Sophie cackle. 
He shakes his head and grabs the cake board he's using as a base, then fills a plastic piping bag with a tiny bit of melted chocolate to act as glue. Huh, that worked, he thinks as he picks up the first side and turns it towards the light. It's more detailed than he expected, with a brick pattern and detailing around the window. There's even ivy, trailing from where the roof will go and he has to admit that he's pretty impressed. He lays the first line of melted chocolate down and presses the section into place, blasting the whole lot with some freeze spray until he's convinced it isn't going to move. 
It's a tiny bit crooked, but he's satisfied that at least it isn't going to fall over. The timer pings for the cookies and he pulls them out, leaving them to cool before returning to his construction job. Getting the second side in place is harder, because the corner doesn't want to meet perfectly but through a combination of melted chocolate glue and freeze spray, he gets it to stay in place. The third side is easier, somehow, but he's not going to look a gift horse in the mouth and moves onto the last side. It's the most difficult yet, because he has to fit it between the two other sides without knocking them down. 
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98 notes • Posted 2021-12-25 02:37:18 GMT
#2
The Macaron Job 
I'm a damned idiot, Eliot thinks and scowls at the sheeting rain outside the kitchen window. It's a horrible damp day, the sort that turns his hair into a curly mess that defies even the hottest flat iron, and he's making macarons. They're never going to dry, he thinks and pokes the closest one with a clean fingertip, scowl deepening as the mix sticks to his skin. 
It wasn't like there were a million other, more rainy day compatible things he could have made. Like brown butter and oatmeal cookies. Or madeleines. Or lemon and poppy seed muffins, with a lemon glaze, sweet and sharp. Or an apple pie, rich and golden and spiked with cinnamon. Or even sugar cookies. 
But Parker had asked for French macarons, and he's never been able to say no to the women, especially when Sophie gets in on the act. So he's stuck in the kitchen, babysitting a sheet pan of macarons that are stubbornly refusing to form any sort of skin. They're never going to work, he thinks and sighs, pulling out the ingredients to make a batch of sugar cookies, just in case, letting his hands fall into the familiar actions while his mind wanders, pondering what else he wants to add to his newly established kitchen garden. 
It's another part of himself that he's reclaimed, once he'd committed to the team, and it had taken him a while to get comfortable with his hands in the dirt again, but damn, it was nice to replace the old blood on his hands with warm, fragrant soil, capable of giving life rather than taking it. Parker had caught on first, bugging him with questions about what the plants did until he got his first harvest of peas and squash and carrots and tomatoes, turning them into something they could eat, remembering exactly how at peace he'd felt, sitting down at the table to eat a meal he'd produced in more ways than one. 
He glances at the tray of macarons again, feeling irritation niggle at him when they still aren't set. The sugar cookie dough forms a neat ball under his hands and he shapes it into a log, wrapping it in plastic and slipping it in the fridge to chill, trying to ignore the urge to glare at the macarons. Like that'll make them set faster, he thinks and has to laugh at himself, just a little. Truth be told, there's not many other places he'd rather be on a rainy day than his kitchen, even if he is stuck with the least rainy day friendly bake ever. 
Quiet footsteps head towards the kitchen and he keeps his back to the door, deliberately, ignoring the prickle between his shoulders that he still can't quite shake. He trusts them with his life and his soul and his sanity, but bone deep instincts aren't so easy to turn off. "They're not done yet," he says when the steps transfer from wood to the tile floor in the kitchen, knowing as good as he was, he wouldn't have heard her if she didn't want him to, because the woman was like a damn cat, all liquid grace and soft steps. 
"They didn't take this long last time," she complains, boosting herself onto the counter and reaching around him to steal a crumb of sugar cookie dough from the big copper mixing bowl. 
Eliot tucks a curly strand of hair behind his ear and glances at the window, where the rain has become even worse, pouring down in a way that makes him wonder idly if they need to start building an arc. Hardison would hate that, he thinks, all those animals to manage and manages not to grin too widely. "Last time it wasn't pouring with rain," he says, and lifts an eyebrow at her when she frowns. 
She sneaks another scrap of cookie dough, chewing thoughtfully. "That makes a difference?" 
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106 notes • Posted 2021-03-21 03:07:37 GMT
#1
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198 notes • Posted 2021-03-10 16:12:30 GMT
Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →
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mollyhw14 · 3 years
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Fallen Angel: Tied to the Devil's Daughter - Haechan / Lee Donghyuk fic (demon au) ♛ CH3 ♛
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Haechan made himself comfortable in the seat where Renjun had just been, checking to see that was okay with everyone, earning a small nod from Mark.
"I didn't know you were friends with Renjun, Haechan?" Mark asked, looking at the boy curriously with sudden interest.
"Yeh I've not him for a few years now we used to go to the same dance academy outside of school!" Haechan answered, looking a bit awkward, not used to the attention.
"Wait how on earth do you two know each other?" Phina motioned to the two boys, sending her brother a confused look.
"Oh, well um... I volunteer at where he stays." Mark said lowly, hesitantly looking at Haechan's reaction, confusing Phina even more.
"I thought you volunteered at an orphanage?" Cheonsa piped up from the side of the Haechan, also interested in the conversation.
"Um... yeah...." Mark scratched the back of his head, clearly not wanting to carry on the conversation further. Luckily, to Haechan's relief, Renjun was back with the drinks.
"Dude you're kinda in my seat," Renjun motioned his head subtly towards Cheonsa, Haechan quickly got the hint.
"Oh is this the Cheonie you were talking about!" He got up excitedly letting a now red faced Renjun back in the booth.
Now not knowing where to sit, he awkwardly stood at the end of the booth. Phina couldn't help but laugh, finding the situation very amusing, seeing him distressed.
"Dude you can have my seat, I need to get going anyway, thanks for the invite Phinie it's really helped my stress." Mark turned to wards his sister giving her a soft smile before sliding out the booth and heading out.
"See you Mark," everyone called in unison and Haechan slid into Marks prior spot.
"So... you're the new kid then?" Cheonsa asked, trying to ease the awkwardness.
"Yes and what? You got a problem with it?" Haechan snapped, annoyed with the awkward atmosphere.
"Oi don't speak to my friend that way!" Seraphina could feel her anger rising and she knew if this was how he was going to act, she'd definitely end up snapping at him.
"Phina it's fine- honestly though, your temper is as bad as Phina's over here, but honestly just relax and calm down" She muttered towards Haechan. At times like this, Seraphina always questioned why Cheonsa was nice to people, she just didn't understand it.
After another hour or Renjun and Cheonsa attempting to flirt with each other, and Seraphina sat awkwardly in silence whilst Haechan start staring at her phone, she decided it was time to go home. After all, she was knackered and needed to cool down after being so angry all day, her parents wouldn't like her staying out too late either.
"Sorry to burst your bubble, but I'm off!" She clapped to the group, standing up to go.
"I'm just reminding you, you still owe me a birthday present." Her friend gave her a pointed look, causing her to sigh.
"I know, I know." Hands up defensively, she walked off towards the door.
She heard the last of their conversation before exiting the door.
"I didn't know it was your birthday tomorrow?", "yeah it's my 18th Renjunie!"
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"Why am I always annoyed at everything, it annoys me," Phina moaned to herself, walking down the dark alley ways towards her house.
She came to a holt when she saw the familiar dog lurking in front of her.
"Wilson! Come here boy!" She shouted towards the fawn Pekingese as it trotted over to her.
"You always appear when I'm angry or annoyed, you must definitely be my guardian Angel Willy Bob." She petted the small dog before carrying on her journey, feeling a little less annoyed, with Wilson close behind her.
Arriving at her house, she heard the shouting before she even got inside the house. Her parents were shouting at Mark once again about his grades. Poor Mark just wanted to go and become an entertainer, but their parents where transfixed on him going to university and it upset Phina having to watch him suffer.
That night, Phina checked up on Mark, seeing him with headphones in and writing down lyrical poems which he always did when he was upset or anxious. Sighing, she closed his door and made her way to her own room. Eventually, she settled off to sleep with a heavy heart, wanting nothing but her brother to be happy.
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"You don't belong here." Her mums voice rang in her ears, repeating the same phrase.
"You're not one of us." This time it was Cheonsa's voice. Her voice sounded like she'd been crying out of fear.
Why was she scared?
Was she scared of me?
An agonising pain in her back cut Seraphina out of her thoughts, her eyes sprung with tears as she let out a blood- curdling scream. Why did her back feel like it was on fire? Was she going to die?
The same pain then went through her teeth, causing the girl to bite down on her hand out of shock, hoping the pressure would make it stop.
The next thing she saw made her stop in her tracks, shocked and scared at what she could see.
All around her lay bodies, numerous bodies, laying in a massive pool of blood. Each body was lifeless and stacked up high, screaming tor life to come and take its place back in their bodies.
Screaming, Phina woke up. Sweat pooled round her body, and she was shaking from fright. The last thing she'd seen was glowing red eyes staring back at her. She couldn't make out if it was a mirror or somebody else. Was that her eyes? It can't have been!
She looked at the clock on her bedside table, the time read 6:30AM, meaning she would have had to be up in another half an hour anyway. Instead of going back to sleep, she got up and readied herself for the day.
Arriving at school, she greeted her best friend with a cake she’d quickly grabbed on the way, earning a big smile from the blonde girl.
“Aw Phina! Isn’t this like the first cake you’ve gotten me? Like ever.” She chuckled, as she got a small punch to her arm from the brunette.
“Can I not buy my best friend a cake for her 18th Birthday?” She questioned, a hint of playfulness in her tone.
“Of course-” Cheonsa was cut off by a stabbing pain in her back. In shock, she leant forward subconsciously until the pain slowly went away. Tears formed in her eyes from the amount of pressure which had been put on her back and she felt like she was being suffocated.
“Cheonsa, CHEONSA! Are you okay? Hello are you okay?”
Seraphina looked around for anybody that could help her, she couldn’t understand what was wrong with her friend.
“I’m fine Phina, it’ll stop in a minute.” Her friend wheezed next to her.
After 5 minutes went by, Cheonsa could finally stand up properly, but this didn’t stop Phina from being worried.
“What was all that about?”
“I’m not sure, I’ve been getting them all morning, the pain comes and goes but it hurts like fuck.”
This cause Seraphina to look at the girl in shock. Cheonsa barely swore, so when she did, that definitely meant the girl was in severe pain.
“I’ll be fine Phi, honestly stop worrying!” She gave Phina an encouraged smile, squeezing her shoulder in comfort.
“Thank you for the cake, but you better head off to your class the bell’s about to ring.”
“Oh shit.” With that, Seraphina was off, giving her friend a hug and a pointed look to let her know the topic wasn’t being dropped, before heading off to her first class.
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“Okay class, now we’re going to learn a new routine today.”
Seraphina jumped from the floor in glee, she loved learning new routines.
“Guessing you’ve finally learnt how to control that temper, Sunshine,” the amused tone of the boy she hated the most rang from behind her. She groaned out loud at the fact that she’d forgot he was now in her dance classes.
“Because my temper is usually reserved for little dickheads like you.” She shot back at him, getting into a space to learn the dance.
“You little shit-”
Haechan was cut off my a clap of the hand from their teacher, narrowing her eyes at two students who wouldn’t stop bickering.
“Now class, I will be putting you into pairs for this routine, and please don’t moan I don’t want any funny business.”
Well that was Phina’s hopes of showing her dance teacher that she was a great performer crushed, because she nearly doubled over in shock when she heard the next announcement.
“Seraphina and Haechan you will be working together.”
They weren’t going to get any of this routine done with him being her partner. Especially if he kept being a fucking annoying brat.
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zoraclover777 · 6 years
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Halfway Happy
[ Part 8 ]
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[ Part 1 ] // [ Part 2 ] // [ Part 3 ] // [ Part 4 ] // [ Part 5 ] // [ Part 6 ] // [ Part 7 ]
AN: Let's get back to this, shall we? (P. S. I do not own the GIF of Steve spinning the bat!!!!)
—————
“You're thinking of what? Are you fucking stupid? You could get yourself killed!” Billy yelled at her, watching as she rolled up the sleeves of the new shirt she changed into.
“Now, you can see why I have to go. Jane, Jane could die if I'm not there. Hopper too, hell, maybe Will's mom. I'm not letting that happen.” Y/N spoke with a stern voice, eyes meeting his. “So, piss off. It's not like you give a shit anyway, Hargrove.”
“Listen, fuck, just listen to me, okay—”
“Didn't I say piss off?”
“You're not going.” A voice agreed from behind her, making Y/N chuckle and turn around. “You're not going to die, risking your life for us. Jane can do this.”
“For once, we fucking agree on something, Harrington.”
She bit her tongue, turning back away before placing her hands on the table. That's when Y/N’s brain processed everything. She got mad, no, she got pissed.
She wasn't going to be able to go. She wasn't going to be able to save her sister, or Hopper, or even Joyce—hell, she'd barely known Joyce and she already cared for her—and Will, Will's going to blame it all on her. She was furious. Slamming her hands on the table multiple times, she screamed.
Billy and Steve had clenched their bodies, waiting for the force of Y/N’s mind to throw them around.
But, it never came.
“No.” She whispered. Falling to her knees, tears fell instantly. “No, no, no. No, fuck, no, this can't be happening.”
—————
They didn't know what to do when Y/N had finally gotten up after crying and walked to the front door. Billy looked at Steve, and Steve looked at Billy, but their eyes came back to her.
“We're going. End of discussion.” She said, opening the door.
“Hey, you don't have your fucking powers any more, doll. You don't just get to push us around anymore.” Hargrove spoke up as he walked up to the girl, his fingertips lightly touching the front door. “So go sit the fuck down, and wait for everyone to get back.” With that, he pushed the door closed.
“Don't fucking tell me what to do.” Y/N uttered, eyes filled with anger. She would break his fucking neck if she could.
“Listen, princess—”
“Call me another name like that, and I'll knock you the fuck out, Hargrove.”
“I would really like to see you try.”
“Okay.”
Before Steve could comprehend what was happening, her fist smacked right into Billy's face—well, his nose and face, she'd punched him, twice. His head made a sharp left turn before he fell to the ground, unconscious and blood left pouring out of his nose. Her eyes caught Steve's and she sighed.
“Well, I mean, you did tell him.”
—————
“What happened to my brother?” Max pointed out the figure lying out cold on the floor, blood slightly dried now.
“I told him I’d knock him out—”
“He didn't believe her.” Steve finished.
“Well, okay then.”
“Thanks for the friendly chat and catching up while we've been in the basement or an hour or so, guys, but, uh, we have trouble.” Dustin spoke, pointing out the window. A small demogorgon was creeping up to the house, hissing and growling as it smelt blood.
And life.
“What do we do?” Mike asked, biting his lip slightly as he looked at everyone.
“Y/N could use her mi—” Lucas started but was interrupted when he saw Steve using his hand to motion it back and forth in front of his throat. “Wha?”
“Remember when I left to use the bathroom?” Max blurted out, eyes staring at the floor.
“Yeah?” Will questioned, voice fading at the end.
“I saw it, Steve.” She said, looking at the teen in his eyes and then at Y/N. “I saw you having your seizure. And it scared the hell out of me.” Max whispered, turning back to her friends. “That's why I came back to the basement, looking sick.”
“So that means—?” Lucas questioned, still not understanding.
“It means she doesn't have them, now. Or they're blocked.” Steve said, standing up and walking to the kitchen. When he reappeared—after stepping over Billy's body—he had his bat.
“Are those—?”
“Yeah.”
“And you—?”
“Kill those things with this, yes.” Steve said, twisting the bat in his hands. “Maybe we should move him. It would suck if he were to get eaten, or something. Keep that door closed?” He questioned Y/N, and watched her nod.
He placed the bat on the ground and helped the kids drag Billy's body to the next room with ease.
Y/N’s body jerked forward as the monster outside slammed into the door, trying to make its entrance. Steve had placed him down without a care, and his ears immediately caught Y/N’s voice from the other room.
“Steve!” She yelled, attempting to press even more weight against the door. “Steve! I can't—”
—————
His eyes snapped open and he stared at the ceiling for a good moment, it was twenty minutes, but in his mind, it was hours, before he heard a scream of ‘Steve!’ coming from a room, he definitely wasn't in. Standing up in one quick motion, the teen rubbed his nose and made a confused face before pulling his hand away.
“Steve! I can't—”
The dried blood on his fingertip made him come to a realization and he clenched his teeth together.
She fucking did knock me out.
Did he have time to actually think about it? No.
So he ran out of the room he was in and into the living room, his eyes widening at the sight before him. Y/N was pressed up against the door, attempting to keep, whatever the fuck, it was out of the house.
“Doll, what the hell are you doing out here by yourself?” He questioned, still attempting to rub the blood off from under his nose.
“Billy, Billy, listen, leave—” She attempted to warn him, but it was too late. The demogorgon had finally broken its way through the door, throwing Y/N on the ground in a swift motion.
“Y/N!”
“Not today, asshole.” Steve's voice blurted out, bat in hand. “Come on.” He whistled to the monster, backing away slowly as he does so.
It definitely took the bait, as it followed Harrington, hissing and spitting. Suddenly, it lunged. It didn't get far though, not before Steve smacked the shit out of it with the nail-ridden bat. It fell to the floor before picking its body up and turning to the male. It's face opened up before running at Harrington.
Smack.
Squelch.
Thump.
Steve held onto the bat, looking down at the creature with a disgusted look on his face. His eyes turned to Y/N, realising she wasn't by the front door—there wasn't even a door there, anymore—and looked around. His eyes shifted to movement on the other side of the room and there she was.
Eyes filled with worry, lip smeared with blood, but still confident, and Steve, Steve had never seen someone more beautiful in his entire life. “Hey.” He said to her, smile gracing his face.
“Hey.” Y/N breathed out, wiping the blood off her lip and hissing when she realized there was a cut. “Fuck, that hurt.”
“Was, was that the fucking creature you were talking about?” Hargrove suddenly sputtered out of his mouth, body still frozen in place.
“Yeah, and good morning. Get used to it, he—” she pointed to the dead monster on the ground, “brought friends. Hope you can fight.” The words came out easy and she licked the cut on her lip before getting in stance. “I didn't sign up for this.”
—————
He could. Billy Hargrove could fight, and she was shocked, to say the least. She wasn't shocked about him fighting, no, she was shocked how easy he took this whole—Hawkins had made a lab, which created El and you, and the Upside Down. Which, in returned, haunted you all forever.
“Did you know that this is fucking bullshit?” Billy spoke, throwing the shovel down on the ground. “Maxine and I moved here, to get away from this shit—”
“Wait, it's happening in California, too?” She questioned, turning to the male. “This is happening in California, and you just ran away?!” Y/N was pissed as she punched him in the chest as hard as she could, but he had ended up holding her wrists and pulling her to him.
“What if they're all connected?” Mike said, brain filled with ideas. The kids started making a plan, all of them butting in.
“All we'd have to do—” Max.
“Is go down to the tunnels—” Lucas
“And set that shit on fire!” Dustin.
“Hey, hey, hey, that is not happening.” Before he even knew what happened, a voice chimed in.
“It's closed. The kids are right, we have to burn the tunnels. Hargrove, we'll be having a conversation, later.” Hopper said, taking off his jacket before sitting on the couch. Eleven followed, wiping her nose multiple times before she ran to Y/N, hugging tightly.
“You're back.” Jane said, hugging tightly.
“Wha—” your eyes widened as you looked over and tilted your head to the side slightly, Mike's backpack falling off the table. Smiling widely, you threw your head back and laughed.
“Yes, Jane. I'm back.”
—————
AN: do not fret, i am here with another part to Halfway Happy and there's still so much to transfer over here.
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