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#i love em
sunclown · 3 days
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CAR-AOKE
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kiwispylover · 21 hours
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soldier is the pastor (literally)
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madalenadrops · 12 days
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🍭🌼🍨🎈
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aaaaaaaaahhhhh
it's been such a joy to draw em
and finally
they're here too!
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zerosphera · 21 days
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A quick zolu from a few months back!
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minthy · 1 year
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the sillies, (they are my new hyperfixation so bare w me)
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Am I self projecting? maybe..
uh, also, this comment gave me the inspiration so uh, yayay!!
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adhd!sans by: @/gudulle_vinyls (on tiktok)
anxiety!sans by: @hheisa
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messylustt · 9 months
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what you remind them of. spiderverse
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you reminded hobie brown of stickers. in a figurative sense, but also a literal. the way you could be placed anywhere and still be recognisable to him. some days he saw a pattern, etched into the way you smiled. other days he saw colours, reflected from the way you felt. blue, orange, pink, green. the changeable nature has him reeling and intrigued. he wants you to decorate his life, or at least his guitar. with your careful fingers, options of cartoon characters or skulls being plastered to one of his most prized possessions. he loved it. the way you’d change, matching his inconsistent attitude. and when the stickers would begin to ware and peel, he never once chose to remove them. because the reminder that you’d stay, his want for you to stay made his ringed fingers dance over the simple stuck cut outs.
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you reminded miguel o’hara of sugar. sweet of course, but something his tastebuds had to get used to. he wasn’t a sweet tooth at first. finding your sugary tone and sweet sweet smile something hard to stomach. maybe deep down it was because he secretly craved something of that flavour, that taste. he tried to keep his diet free from you, ignoring his salivating mouth. but he had to give in, he just had to with the way he knew your skin would be exactly what he needs his tongue to feel. his life lacklustre, filled with bland foods and even blander friendliness. you were a breath of fresh air, something he knew he’d grow addicted to. his sweet tooth was now prominent, obsessed with you day after day.
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you reminded lyla of tears. something she physically couldn’t compute. the way the water droplets would fall, staining your cheeks and creating a morning dew feel to your eyelashes. when she first saw them, her instinct was to reach out. her code told her she couldn’t wipe your eyes but her want told her she could. so pretty when you’d either cry from joy or sadness. though most of the time alone, lyla would be watching. tears…your tears were something she remembered. strangely it didn’t compare to others. some would wail, sniffle, exclaim. but you would sit, blinking, and letting the tears slowly make their descent down your face, coating your lips in a shimmer that made her want to lean in.
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you reminded miles morales of shoelaces. specifically his shoelaces. the amount of times you’ve reminded him to tie them has been endless. your subtle gestures or raises of your brows, has earned him to glance down. sometimes he’d catch you, fingers out as you lean to do them yourself. but he’d never want you to do the work so he’d poke his finger against your head, moving you back. now you’d call him stupid, he’d call you a little neat freak, while stumbling over his untied laces. your smug smile would earn a flustered but still stubborn state from him. but just to annoy you a step further he’d always be tying your shoelaces, neglecting his own in a way of saying ‘your safety is more important than mine.’ which would result in a round about way of you pointing out the ‘safety’ of it while threatening to have them glued.
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you reminded miles morales earth-42 of paint. the kind that’s messy and creates large artworks. your face might be stained with colour, your fingers most definitely so. with raised brows and a frown he’d point out your never ending strokes. you’d bring colour to his world, hellbent eventually, as he’d push off the idea for what feels like eternity. but slowly, gradually, would he find your paints staining his skin, matching graffitied art like a tattoo. surprisingly he wouldn’t wipe it away, tracing the mess with a prowler claw. you were a mess, all over the place, he made that clear to you. but what he doesn’t tell you is the way he’s kept your messy paintings for himself, subtly letting you paint and create at his home. he may not admit to it, but you’ve painted your heart, a pretty thing that he’s kept all for himself.
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you reminded pavitr prabhakar of shells. the kind of seashore ones found at the beach. it’s a new scenery from what he’s used to. you seem to always have this saltwater scent, fresh and inviting. with smiles he’s spoken to you, listened to your voice like the shells that float out into the ocean, dragging him with you. he likes the feel of the sand between his toes. he also likes the pretty patterns that would imbed themselves into the ground. you were like a shell, pretty and something he always loves to find. he liked to treasure the shells he’d find, keep them safe. collections like the collections he’d want to keep of your words. tucked safe into his pockets. your intriguing secrets with the sound of ocean that you’d hear when you press your ear to a larger shell matched perfectly.
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you reminded gwen stacy of neon lights. bright and colourful. you were something that made her eyes widen as she stared. like a club street light, you’d invite people in. even inside the club with the flashing lights, you’d keep people entertained. she always stood by you, soaking in your colourful rays. she may even gain inspiration for her hair, the tinges of pink that would stain your lips made her want to match. you were alive in the night, her favourite pastime just flying through the city with you as her guide. even if it would rain you seemed to shine, your smile only making her eyes reflect colour. you made her feel excited with your hooded gaze. you even met under a neon street sign, ready for a mission in the dark. a mission she’ll never forget.
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you reminded peter b. parker of a pillow. comforting and something easy to rest his head on. you’d feel him doze off on your shoulder, maybe even your lap. small dribbles of drool would make you smile at just how easy it was to get him to sleep if you were in his reach. even your clothes reflected comfort, his hands gravitating towards you. he almost always kept you tucked to him like a carry on pillow. a pillow mayday seemed to enjoy too, as she’d crawl all over your shoulders, your secure hands making sure she didn’t fall. she may even think you bigger like a bed, as she’d jump excitedly in your arms. not to mention your soft skin, his fingers tracing over like a silk slip.
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© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.
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ghm00n · 9 months
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cryinganabell · 2 months
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some mariella x curator doodlez- idk if there's a name for their ship æ
And my narrator gijinka/wip
And mii narrator bc why not
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stevie-petey · 3 months
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episode five: dig dug
“You like Y/N?” Dustin asks at the same time as you ask, “You like me?” Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, barely. She’s on thin ice. But you, little Henderson? You just stole the flowers meant for my girlfriend, so backseat you go.” “Yes!” You cheer, pumping your fist in the air as you flash Steve a smile. “Thanks, Harrington.” He rounds the front of his car and opens the driver's side door. “Yeah, don’t get used to it. Like I said, you’re still on thin ice.”
Summary: you and dustin bury a body and con your mother into fleeing town, great sibling bonding time ! you play hockey with a monster, dustin gets ghosted by his friends, and now it's your turn to kidnap steve (technically dustin does, but you don't stop him) who later gives you some terrifying realizations.
Rating: general, swearing and slight violence
Warnings: blood, use of y/n, fem!reader, animal cruelty technically, weapons, cursing
Words: 7.5k
Before you swing in: hello ! late chapter update, but here ya go lovelies !! lots has happened recently, i got a sick ass job and im super excited and :))) so updates will definitely slow down again some more, but i promise i will update whenever possible. for now, please enjoy !
“Remember how angry I was at you about hiding El from me last year?”
“Yeah?”
“Visualize the anger, multiply it by ten, and then take three steps back from me.”
Dustin trips over his feet to scramble away from you.
You’re currently in your own room, the door locked, with Dustin standing several feet away now as he heeds your warning. Never in your life have you felt such rage before, such blinding fury, and you thought you knew what anger was when your dad left.
But this? This is a new type of anger, one you know that only the older sister to Dustin Henderson could ever feel.
As soon as Dart had lifted its head up at you and screeched, you’d immediately snatched your brother’s hand into yours and ran out the door, door slamming behind you. Now, you’re hiding out in your room with no fucking clue what to do.
“You killed our cat.”
“Technically Dart did.” You glare at Dustin. You had actually liked Mews, she was the sweetest cat in the world and a gift for your fifth birthday. Your brother, sensing he’s only digging a deeper hole for himself, coughs. “I mean… Yeah. I killed our cat.”
Stepping back, you find your desk chair against your legs and fall into the seat. Exhaustion sweeps over you. There’s no time to grieve the loss of your cat. Not when there’s a baby demogorgon in Dustin’s room eating said cat’s corpse still. “What do we even do in this situation?”
“Not tell mom?” Again, you glare at Dustin and he squeaks in fear. “Well I mean, that’s all I can think of right now!”
A headache forms. “I should’ve gone with Jonathan and Nancy.”
Dustin thinks for a moment. “Where did they go, anyways?”
“No. You don’t get to ask any questions right now.”
“Yes ma’am.”
You sigh, a vague idea forming in your mind. “Okay, first we need get Mews out of the room. She was mom’s favorite child, we can’t just leave her in there to be diminished to bones.”
Dustin nods. “Obviously. We can do that… right?”
“We have to. Once she’s out of there, we just… leave Dart in there. At least for now. It’s already late in the afternoon and we need so much help from the party.”
“We can’t tell the party–”
“You’re right. We can’t,” Dustin sighs with relief, but you give him an evil smile. “But you can tell the party. You’ll radio everyone tomorrow, clean the house, and make a plan from there.”
Dustin tries to argue, but you hold a hand up. “You brought a baby demogorgon into our house. You lost every arguing privilege there is to lose.”
He groans, knowing you’re right. Next time, he’ll be better at hiding things from you because you’re a total buzzkill whenever you inevitably find out.
Together, the two of you hatch a plan. You’ll walk into Dustin’s room first, knives out and ready just in case, and Dustin will follow once the coast is clear. Then, he’ll lure Dart away from Mews’ body with chocolate (you don’t want to ask why), and once he’s gone you’ll snatch your cat’s body and flee the room immediately afterwards.
It’s a good plan.
That is, if it works.
“Ready?” You’re standing in front of Dustin’s door, your knives flicked open in your hand, ready for possible war with a foot long little demon.
Your brother pats your shoulder. “Don’t die, sis.”
“I’m holding knives as we speak. Touch me again and die.”
“I hope Dart eats your face.”
You smile. “There’s my brother. Okay, as soon as I’m inside the room, close the door. Then, when I knock three times, open it again and enter.”
“Wait for two knocks–”
“Three.”
“Three knocks. Right.”
You steady your breathing. Around the corner, you can hear your mom humming to herself as she makes dinner. She has no clue what’s going on, and you envy her for it. Your hand on Dustin’s door knob twists slowly, then, before you can psych yourself out, you turn the knob and throw yourself inside.
Quickly the door slams behind you, so at least Dustin did something right.
Your eyes, which had previously been squeezed shut, open slowly. When you don’t see any sign of Dart, you exhale. So far, so good. You walk towards the couch and find the creature still eating away at your dead cat, which you gag at.
Poor Mews.
You rap your knuckles against the door three times, alerting Dustin to come inside.
He opens the door and walks in, his hands fisted against his face as if that would do anything to keep him safe. You roll your eyes and flick his head, which he whines at. “Grab the chocolate and distract Dart, please.”
Dustin runs over to his desk and grabs a Musketeers bar. When you see the candy’s name, you want to slam your head against the wall. You know exactly why the monster’s name is Dart.
“Let me guess,” you say, your tone mocking. “D’Artagnan?”
“Don’t you have a corpse to collect?”
You scoff at him but step aside so that he can dangle the chocolate in Dart’s face. You watch, alert for any signs of danger in case you need to step in, but the monster seems to be pretty friendly with Dustin. You guess they really did create a bond.
Once Dart is far enough away from Mews, you run over and snatch up her body. You try not to think about the possible cat guts now all over your sweater. That will be a later issue. Like a lot of things in your life recently.
“Go, go, go!” You push Dustin towards the door.
He doesn’t need to be told twice, throwing the last piece of the candy bar at Dart’s face and running out the door right behind you. Once you’re both out the room with the door closed, you both lean against the wall and exhale deeply.
“Good job. Now onto phase two.”
Dustin makes a face. “Why do I have to distract mom?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” you hold up Mews’ bloody body. “Do you want to be the one to hold our dead cat?”
“Good point, I’ll go distract mom.” Dustin leaves, rounding the corner to go hopefully distract your poor mother in a sane way. With your luck, Dustin will spew some weird bullshit that will only make her more worried than she already is.
Right on cue, you hear Dustin say from the kitchen. “Mom, I think I broke my arm.”
The scream of fear your mom lets out would’ve been comedic had you not been holding her beloved dead cat.
Your mother runs around the kitchen, fretting over your brother, and the second she isn’t looking, you slip out the front door and quickly throw Mews’ body into your bush. You feel a bit bad about that, but there’s nowhere else to hide her body in broad daylight.
When you walk back inside, Dustin is being swaddled by your mother. “What did I miss?”
“Oh, Y/N!” Your mom sighs. “Dusty said he thought he broke his arm, but the silly boy seems to be okay.”
Dustin pats her back. “Ha, right. Silly me!”
Your mom looks up and then squints a bit, eying your sweater. You look down and your heart drops. It’s covered in Mews’ blood.
Fuck.
“Y/N, what’s that all over your sweater?”
“Paint!” You say while Dustin sputters, “Ketchup!”
“We… Were painting with ketchup.” You lie, sending a quick glare your brother’s way. Out of everything red, why ketchup?
“Oh, alright.” Your mom looks uncertain, but doesn’t say anything else about it. “Well, dinner is almost ready. Why don’t you go wash up, honey?”
The second you’re dismissed, you run into your room and yank the sweater off. You’ll burn it tomorrow. First chance you get.
A few seconds later, there’s a knock on your door before Dustin’s head pokes inside. “Dinner’s done.”
“Great. Holding your dead cat definitely works up an appetite.”
“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” Dustin tries to play it off, but you see the genuine upset in his eyes. He hadn’t meant to hurt anyone, and you know he loved Mews too.
You sigh and walk over to him and kiss his curls. “It’s okay. Next time, let’s not hide a monster from the Upside Down, yeah?”
“Deal.”
Dustin spends the night in your room, which you explain to your mom as needing some “serious bonding time”. She tears up at this, unaware of the fact that you’ll be making your brother sleep on the floor as punishment.
The next morning you and Dustin hatch yet another plan: get mom out of the house. Before you two can do anything else, you both agree that your mom cannot be anywhere near Dart. Plus, she’s already noticed Mews’ absence, so it’s only a matter of time before she finds the body in the bush.
“Alright, you’ll fake the phone call while I start gathering the supplies.” You tell Dustin while your mom calls for Mews outside. She’s at the bottom of the driveway, Mews’ favorite toy in her hand, shaking it around, unaware that the cat’s dead body is in the bush next to her.
“Got it. You remember where my old hockey suit is?” You nod at Dustin’s question, and he’s about to say something else before he sees your mom start walking back towards the house. “Shit! Game time, go!”
Dustin fumbles for the phone and you run to the living room closet. Just as you’ve entered your positions, your mom walks through the front door.
“Mewsy! Dusty, Y/N, sweethearts, you’re sure she’s not in your rooms?”
“No, mom.” You shake your head at her.
Holding up a finger, Dustin presses the phone to his ear and motions for the woman to remain quiet. “Uh-huh. Thank you so much, Mr. McCorkle. Thank you so much, you are a true lifesaver.”
You can’t help but roll your eyes. He’s laying it on pretty thick.
“Alright, this was great. Thank you, have a good one. Bye-bye now, all right. You too.” Dustin pretends to hang up the phone and smiles at your mom. “Alright, great news!”
“They found her?” Tears of joy lace your mother’s voice. You have to turn away, you know she’d notice the discomfort on your face. It feels horrible to be lying to your mother like this.
Dustin seems to be thinking the same thing, because he lowers his voice and gently approaches her. “No, but they saw her wandering around Loch Nora.”
More tears flow down your mom’s face. “How did the poor baby get all the way over there?”
“I don’t know, lost I guess. But they’re gonna look for her, and–and Y/N and I will stay here, just in case they call again. Right, Y/N?”
“Right!” You call from the closet, now quickly grabbing everything you can think of. Would a hammer be necessary?
“And you’re gonna go help look. Yeah?” Dustin’s only response is a relieved hug from your crying mother. “Yeah, give me a hug. Go get her!”
Your mom quickly composes herself and grabs her glasses. She presses a kiss to your forehead and seems to be in better spirits. “We’ll find her!”
“Mews will be home soon, mom!” You cheer, and your mom blows you another kiss.
“I love you,” Dustin sends her a thumbs up.
“I love you, kids.” And with that, your mom clutches her purse to her chet and sends one final kiss your way before shutting the door behind her.
As soon as the door shuts, you and Dustin scramble. Dustin heads to the backyard to open your cellar doors and you grab the remaining hockey gear from the closet. While you drag the uniform out to the living room, your brother begins to look through the fridge for any possible bait.
“Think Dart would like bologna?” Dustin calls over his shoulder as he digs around.
You groan, dropping the heavy goalie pads. “Last I checked, he wasn’t my secret Upside Down pet.”
“Touche.”
Dustin grabs the bologna and starts making a trail from his room towards the front door. While he does that, you start sorting through your own pile of gear, soccer to be specific. Dustin liked hockey, you preferred warmer sports. As you’ve finished lacing up your cleats and shin pads, Dustin returns.
“Okay, the bait is all set up. Got my hockey stick?”
You hand him what he needs. “Here, and your helmet is on the couch.”
Dustin gets ready and you retrieve some oven mitts from the kitchen. When you hand them to the boy, he looks at you like you’re insane. “What? Extra protection. Can’t hurt.”
He sighs and swipes them from your hand, putting them on. Once he’s ready, you help him stand up. He looks ridiculous in his old hockey gear, but you suppose you don’t look any better with your shin pads and Dustin’s spare shoulder pads.
“Alright. We all set?”
Dustin pats his helmet. “Ready.”
You walk towards his room, and once you’re there, Dustin pushes past you and bends down a bit so he can speak through his keyhole. “Alright, Dart. Breakfast time.”
“Do we have to mention breakfast right before we set him free?" You mumble, but your brother ignores you.
Slowly, he reaches towards the door handle and then flings it open. As soon as the door has been moved, Dustin practically knocks you to the ground in his haste to escape. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!”
His mantra reminds you of Steve’s from last year at Jonathan’s. Seems like the two boys have something in common: they’re idiots.
You follow quickly behind Dustin, terrified but at least trying to hide it, while your brother just repeats “oh my god”, and “shit” over and over again as he stumbles over the bait and out towards the front door.
If the situation wasn’t so grave, you’d be giggling at how dumb Dustin looks waddling over bologna on the floor. However, Dart could very well be right behind you, so you run after the kid equally as terrified.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit–”
By this point, you’re nearing the tool shed outside.
“I will push you down these stairs Dustin Henderson.”
Dustin shuts up and, as soon as you’re inside the shed as well, locks it behind him. Once he’s sure you’re all cleared, he lets out a breath of relief. “Okay, now we wait.”
You walk towards the wood panels, squinting as you peek through a gap to see outside. “I don’t see anything.”
Dustin does the same. “Come on, I know you’re hungry…”
Everything remains still outside, and you’re starting to worry that maybe Dart doesn’t like bologna after all, until you see his scaly body walk out the door. He gobbles down the bologna pieces one by one, which you cringe at.
“Yeah. He likes bologna, alright.”
Dustin silently cheers. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes!”
Dart makes his way down the trail, eating every piece he finds, and soon he scampers down the steps and hovers over the cellar doors. In an odd way, the little guy is kinda cute if you forget about the fact that he killed your cat.
“Yes, yes, yes!” Dustin continues to chant as you watch Dart. The creature just has one more piece of bologna left, he just needs to take a few more steps inside before you can slam the doors shut.
But, because nothing can ever be easy for you, Dart suddenly turns and looks straight at you and Dustin. “Shit!”
You flinch back, knocking into a bucket of nails that spill everywhere. “Shit again!”
Dustin tries to shush you but you grab him by his shoulders and force him behind you. Your knives are out, their blades gleaming in the sunlight that creeps through the wood panels. You peek through them to find Dart slowly approaching the shed, his mouth almost watering.
“Well, this isn’t good.” You take a breath to lessen your fear. “Stay here, I’ll try to distract him–”
“AHHH!” Dustin shoves you against the opposite wall, your body flinging back with a harsh crash, and breaks through the shed’s door. With one solid wack from his hockey stick, he flings Dart into the cellar.
“What the–Dustin!” By the time you make it out the shed, your brother has flung himself on top of the cellar doors, panting.
“Got him,” he informs you, as if it isn’t obvious enough. Dart begins to screech with anger, and Dustin sighs. “I’m sorry, you ate my cat.”
“You’re an idiot, Dustin.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just give me five seconds to catch my breath, please.”
With Dart safely locked away, you and Dustin are able to finally bury your cat.
It doesn’t take long, but the early November heat is just warm enough to make you annoyed as you dig through the soil in your backyard. Dustin has his walkie with him, trying to find the right frequency so he can call the party and inform them of what’s going on.
“Guys, this is Dustin again. Does anyone copy?” You stab at the ground with your shovel and your brother groans when he gets no response. “This is a code red. I repeat, a code red!”
Sweat trickles down your brow and honestly it should be Dustin burying the cat, but you’ve never learned how to radio the party so you just sigh and throw more dirt upon your dead cat. Dustin tries a few more times to contact the party, but no one responds.
“Damn it!” He shouts, frustrated.
“Language,” you huff out, more sweat forming.
It goes on like this for a while, Dustin trying and failing to reach anyone, as you two begin to clean the house of any blood and Mews guts. He tries again while you guys grab the cleaning supplies, then again while you’re on your hands and knees scrubbing his carpet in his room.
“Alright, it’s Dustin again. Seriously, I have a code red.”
“Maybe they don’t know what code red means?” You offer, your nose scrunched up due to the bleach fumes.
Dustin scoffs, “sure, and they also don’t know who Luke Skywalker’s father is–”
Suddenly Erica’s voice comes through the walkie. “Can you please shut up?”
“Erica?” Dustin stops scrubbing and straightens up. “Erica, is Lucas there? Where is he?”
“Don’t know. Don’t care.” Erica has always been such a lovely girl.
“Is he with Mike?”
“Like I said, I don’t know and I don’t care.”
You and Dustin share a look. It worries you that Mike hasn’t been responding all day. From what you’ve heard and seen, he’s spent every day this year camped out in his fort in the basement trying to contact El with the radio frequencies.
It’s not like to Mike to just disappear.
“Listen, Erica.” You speak up, trying to sweet talk to the girl. You’ve babysat her a few times and you’ve even managed to convince her you’re kinda cool, so maybe she’ll respond better to you. “Did Lucas mention anything else? Maybe… Maybe like a girl he went to see?”
Dustin frowns. “A girl? What–” You shush him and wait for a response.
Erica snorts. “A girl? Please, as if. He’s been gone all day. That’s all I can tell you.”
Your brother closes his eyes and sighs. “Please tell him it’s super important. Please tell him that I have a code–”
“Code red?” Erica interrupts.
“Yep, code red. Exactly.” Dustin smiles, then covers his mike to whisper to you, “seems like she likes me more than you–”
“I got a code for you instead. It’s called code shut-your-mouth.” Then, Erica switches off the walkie.
Dustin stares at nothing, dumbfounded. You go back to scrubbing the carpet, a pleased smile on your face. “So, you were saying?”
He’s quiet for a few seconds, processing the fact that clearly no one in the party will answer, before letting out an obnoxious groan. “Damn it!”
“Are you gonna help me clean, or–?”
“Can’t you just call Jonathan?” Dustin asks, grasping at straws. “Maybe he can be useful for once and help.”
You shake your head. “No, he’s out of town right now with Nancy.”
“And you’re okay with this because…?”
“Because,” you roll your eyes, “they’re on a secret mission to take down Hawkin’s Lab. They’re at some detective’s house right now, so I have zero way of contacting them.”
Dustin rubs at his eyes tiredly. “How did we get stuck with a cat eating baby demogorgon while Jonathan and Nancy get cool spy work?”
You pinch his leg, causing him to wince and move away from you. “Because you purposefully hid the baby demogorgon. Any other stupid questions?”
“Sure,” Dustin throws his hands up in defeat, obviously joking when he asks, “got any other friend we could call for help?”
A sarcastic laugh escapes your lips and you’re about to tell him that he has more friends than you’ve ever had, but then a thought occurs to you.
Steve.
Technically speaking, you’re friends. Well, sort of. Sure, he had wanted space yesterday in the lunchroom, and yeah he’s still mad at you and things are awkward at best between the two of you, but still…
He’d been at Jonathan’s house last year, he had fought by your side and saved your life and even bought you a vending machine full of snacks. If anyone else could understand the situation you’re in right now, it’s Steve.
You hesitate though. He still seemed really hurt at lunch, but you also saw the way he lingered even after dismissing himself. He doesn’t hate you, at least not really, and without Jonathan or Nancy to call, he’s the only person you have left right now.
It can’t hurt to try, at least.
“Actually, yeah.” You respond after a minute or so. “Be right back.”
Dustin asks questions as you head towards the living room, but you don’t respond. If Steve doesn’t answer, then you can make up some lie about the phone being broken or something to save yourself the embarrassment.
Your fingers press Steve’s long remembered number. He had given it to you his first week of visiting you at Bookstrordinary, assuring you that you could call him whenever. After a while, you took his word on it and started calling the boy every time you were bored and alone at work.
The line rings for a few seconds, and you bite your lip in anticipation.
This is a horrible idea, and yet your heart flutters when Steve answers with a groggy, “hello?”
“Hey, Steve.”
“Y/N?” He sounds surprised.
You can’t blame him, he did quite literally yesterday tell you he’s still upset with you and that he needs space. And yet here you are: calling him early on a Saturday afternoon. “Yeah, it’s me. Listen, I really need your help–”
A sigh. “Normally I’d love to, but I’m kinda in the middle of getting ready to go to Nancy’s.”
“Nancy’s? Steve, she’s not even home–”
“Can we talk later? I… I’d really like to talk, if that’s alright with you.”
This throws you, and for a second you forget about the reason you called. “Of course we can talk, Steve.”
“Great,” you can hear a smile in his voice, which warms you. “I’ll see you later, then.”
Then you remember Dart and the blood on Dustin’s carpet and you frantically try to stop Steve from hanging up. “Wait, no! Steve, Nancy isn’t home and I really need you to–”
The line goes dead, and you slam the phone down. “Damn it!”
Dustin, hearing the commotion, wanders into the kitchen. “Take it the call didn’t go well?”
“No, it did.” Sure, Steve didn’t necessarily offer his help, but he did tell you where he’s going to be in about twenty minutes. You’ll ambush him there and demand he listen to you and help. As a bonding exercise, of course. “We’re going to the Wheeler’s.”
“Why?”
“Steve’s heading there.”
Dustin trips over his shoelaces. “Steve Harrington?”
“Long story,” you sigh, dreading that you’ll have to explain all of this eventually. “C’mon, let's get our bikes.”
You and Dustin get to the Wheeler’s before Steve does, which makes no sense to you but whatever. He’ll be here soon enough and you’ll ambush him with all your charm and maybe a bit of groveling. You’re not beneath it, if you’re being honest.
Dustin goes up to the front door while you stay behind, keeping an eye out for Steve. Ted opens the front door and while you can’t hear what he says to Dustin, you know he’s unamused by his presence. The father has never been your favorite parent within the group, honestly.
You watch as they exchange a few more words before you see Dustin sigh and angrily march back towards you. Then, right as he’s grabbed his bike, a familiar red BMW pulls up. Just seeing his car makes your heart skip a beat.
The car parks and a frazzled Steve steps out, carrying flowers and mumbling to himself. You aren’t able to hear everything he’s saying, but you can hear the words “what the hell am I sorry for?” and your stomach twists.
So clearly he’s not in a good mood. Still.
The flowers, which you now can see are roses, hang by Steve’s side as he fixes his hair. He hasn’t noticed you yet, and it takes everything within you to pull your eyes away. He looks good today, too good.
There’s a monster currently locked in your cellar.
“Steve!” You rush over to his side.
He does a double take when he sees you. “Y/N? What are you doing here?”
“Well–”
“Are those for Mr. or Mrs. Wheeler?” Dustin now joins you two, pointing at the roses in the boy’s hand.
Steve looks between the two of you. “No…? You’re Dustin, right? Y/N’s brother?”
Dustin snatches the roses out of his hand. “Good, and yeah, I am.”
“Hey, what the hell?” Steve looks at you for help, but you know there’s no use trying to reason with your brother. He’s in a mood, similar to Steve, and you just sigh and follow Dustin. “Hey!”
“Nancy isn’t home.” Your brother informs Steve.
“Where is she?” Steve asks, and you hit his shoulder.
“I tried telling you over the phone!”
Dustin claps his hands at you to get your guys’ attention again. “It doesn’t matter where she is or if you tried to warn him, Y/N. We have bigger problems than your love lives.”
He’s at Steve’s car now and opens the passenger side door. “Do you still have that bat?”
Steve whips his head towards you. “Bat? What the hell is he talking about? Y/N, what are you guys doing here–”
“The one with the nails!” Dustin interrupts, exasperated.
Again Steve looks at you. “Why?”
“You’re not gonna like it,” you confess, and this only makes Steve feel worse.
“We’ll explain it on the way.” Dustin goes to sit in the passenger seat but he’s quickly stopped when you grab his hood and yank him out.
“No, absolutely not. I deserve the passenger seat, not you.”
Dustin slaps you away. “I got here first.”
“I was born first–”
“But I was literally about to sit down–”
“Hey!” Steve shouts, effectively shutting you and Dustin up. “It’s my car, and right now I currently only like Y/N, so she gets the passenger seat.”
“You like Y/N?” Dustin asks at the same time as you ask, “You like me?”
Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, barely. She’s on thin ice. But you, little Henderson? You just stole the flowers meant for my girlfriend, so backseat you go.”
“Yes!” You cheer, pumping your fist in the air as you flash Steve a smile. “Thanks, Harrington.”
He rounds the front of his car and opens the driver's side door. “Yeah, don’t get used to it. Like I said, you’re still on thin ice.”
He says it with annoyance in his voice, but you can see the smile he’s trying hard not to let slip, and you feel giddy. Steve obviously can’t be too mad at you if he wanted to talk later and is willingly letting himself be kidnapped by your brother.
Dustin, on the other hand, can’t believe any of this is happening. As soon as you’re all in the car he asks, “Since when did you two become friends?”
“I have a life outside of you and the boys, you know,” you tell him, but you avoid Steve’s gaze. It’s not like you intentionally hid this aspect of your life from Dustin, but… It also never came up, either.
“Sure ya do, but… Wait,” Dustin remembers something. “Oh my god, you have Steve Harrington’s number memorized?”
Your face heats up and Steve hides a smirk, but you see it anyway. You ignore his smugness and respond to your brother. “Like I said, I have a life outside of you.”
Dustin gapes at you. “I have so many questions–”
“I have an even better one: where am I taking you guys?” Steve asks, and suddenly you remember everything at stake.
“My house,” you tell him as you buckle up. He nods, although with some confusion, and then starts the engine. “You know how I called you earlier?”
“Yeah…?”
“Dustin, why don’t you tell Steve here what you found.”
Your brother sighs from the backseat. “A few days ago I found this… lizard of sorts.”
“A lizard.” Steve says, unimpressed.
“Oh, just wait,” you quip.
Dustin turns his head to glare at you and you give him a thumbs up. He scoffs at you before carrying on, “Yes, a lizard. I named him Dart and he was super cool, okay? I thought I had discovered a new species and that I would be super famous and better than everyone else.”
Steve glances at you next to him, raising his eyebrows and whistling low. “Wow, does humbleness run in your family, Y/N?”
“I’d say so, yeah.”
“Anyways,” Dustin interrupts, ignoring Steve’s laugh at your response. “Turns out, Dart is from the Upside Down.”
“The Upside Down?” Steve asks, extremely confused. He looks at you again in the mirror and it hits you that no one explained to him the events from last year. You assumed that Nancy would’ve, seeing as how they’ve been together for a while now and Steve had been with you guys at the hospital the night you brought Will back.
However, from his disbelief and confusion it’s clear that she hasn’t. If you had to guess, Steve probably went home that night and blocked out everything that had gone down with no questions asked.
You respect his repressing skills, honestly.
Dustin groans, beginning to grow impatient with Steve. “Yes, the Upside Down. If you have the bat still, how could you not know–”
“Do you remember that… thing we killed at Jonathan’s last year?” You cut your brother off before he can get too mean. You love the kid, you do, but he isn’t the kindest person when others aren't understanding him.
A dark look passes over Steve’s face and his fingers tighten around the steering wheel. It’s night now, and the atmosphere in the car becomes tense. “I remember.”
You clear your throat, “Well, this creature–”
“Demodog.” Dustin corrects from the backseat.
“Demodog?” You turn in your seat to face him. “That’s what we’re calling it now? Seriously?”
He shrugs. “It’s a baby demogorgon, it looks like a dog, so… Demodog.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Alright. Okay. Whatever, this demodog is from the Upside Down. It’s this parallel universe, basically. Creepy shit happens there, and last year a monster–”
“The Demogorgon.” Dustin once more interrupts.
“Dustin, if you want to catch Steve up then for the love of god, please shut up.”
“Sorry,” he mumbles, embarrassed.
A smile tugs at Steve’s lips and you take a deep breath to calm yourself before continuing. “Look, I don’t know how much Nancy told you about that night at Jonathan’s, but all that you need to know is that the Demogorgon took Will last year and we had to fight it in order to save him.”
Steve nods slightly as he follows along, “Nancy mentioned something about a monster at the hospital… she told me it’s what killed Barb, but never told me it had a name.”
Another silence falls between you guys in the car. The mention of Barb brings back bad memories for you both. You had liked Barb, she had always been nice to you, you guess. Hawkins is a small town. Everyone knows everyone, and in the end the smallness of the town is what makes the Upside Down so hard. You lose people close to you, one way or another.
And as for Steve… The roses he bought for Nancy lay wilted in his backseat.
Dustin shifts uncomfortably in his seat, and your heart pangs in understanding. He misses El, and you do too. The closer it gets to the anniversary of her disappearance, the more you miss the sweet and caring girl; but you know that the boys, Mike especially, haven’t given up hope for her.
“So…” Steve motions for you guys to continue explaining, and Dustin sits up in his seat to begin again.
“So flash forward to now: I didn’t realize Dart was a demodog until he grew like three damn sizes bigger than when I found him. Y/N and I almost died trying to lock him in our cellar.”
“Wait, you guys have a cellar?”
Dustin rubs his face, “That’s what you focus on, Steve?”
“It’s a valid question–”
“Guys!” You lurch yourself forward and wave your hands around wildly to break up their bickering. “We really don’t have time for this. Can we please just focus on the task at hand? Dart has probably grown even more during the course of this stupid conversation.”
Your brother’s hand pushes your shoulder back so that you’re now once again sitting, and you swat him away with annoyance. “Y/N, I’m trying! Blame Steve, he’s the one asking stupid questions–”
Steve speaks up, “What the hell? They aren’t stupid questions–”
“Well…”
Steve shoots you an offended look, “Y/N, I thought you were on my side.”
Dustin scoffs, hurt. “She’s my sister, you idiot!”
“Again, we seriously don’t have time for this because, once more: Dart is getting really big.” Your voice is louder this time, and thankfully it shuts everyone up. Then, just because you can, you add, “and I’m on Steve’s side right now. He’s the one with the car, plus… Well, I owe him.”
Steve fist pumps the air. “Suck it, little Henderson.”
“Do not call me that,” Dustin threatens him, then turns his attention to you. “First Jonathan, now Steve? Can’t you befriend anyone I like?”
The mention of Jonathan gets Steve attention. “Wait a sec, where is the guy? You never actually told me where he and Nancy went, Y/N.”
You sigh, knowing there’s no use keeping anything else from him. He’s already driving you and Dustin home to help with Dart, and you did promise to tell him where they were later, but life seemingly got in the way. “They’re playing detective right now.”
“Detective?”
“Yeah, the guy Barb’s parents hired… They’re currently at his place, exposing Hawkin’s Lab.”
A tense silence follows. Steve stares straight ahead, eyes on the road, as his expressions morph from hurt, to reluctance, to eventual acceptance. “Nance didn’t think to ask me to join?”
His voice wavers, just a bit, but you hear it. Knowing that Dustin is watching from the back, you decide to forget any possible boundaries for once and grab Steve’s hand. He’s hurting. The car smells of roses and there’s no girl to give them to. “She tried, Steve.”
He swallows. There’s hurt in his eyes and you want to reach out and stroke his cheek and tell him that it isn’t his fault. “I know…”
“Ahem,” Dustin coughs, clearly uncomfortable with whatever is going on. “So… Back to Dart.”
You clear your own throat, but your hand remains wrapped around Steve’s, who nods. “Wait a sec, how big are we talking?”
Without meaning to, you close your eyes and brace for Dustin’s witty remarks, but he surprises you by answering with a demonstration and zero mockery. “First it was like that,” he opens his fingers a few inches before using both hands to show about a foot in length. “Now he’s like this.”
Steve still looks doubtful. “And you’re sure it isn’t some weird lizard?”
A headache begins to form and you pinch the bridge of your nose again. “It’s not a lizard, Steve.”
“Well how do you know?”
“Because his face opened up and he ate our cat.” Dustin says bluntly.
This seems to shut Steve up and he nods his head in defeat. It’s silent in the car for the remainder of the drive, and just before Steve parks in your driveway, he looks over at you and sees your eyes closed in pain, and before he knows it he squeezes your hand and says, “sorry about your cat, by the way.”
Despite the pounding in your head and your utter exhaustion, his words make you laugh. “Just park, Steve.”
He smiles, feeling proud for getting you to laugh, and does as he’s told. Before you know it you’re standing at his trunk, staring at the baseball bat that saved your life last year. Dustin has already gone over to the cellar, waiting for you and Steve to follow.
The bat stares back at you, and you shiver as the memories come back. Though you had tried your best to forget that night, that entire week, honestly, it’s been useless. The nightmares still haunt you. You obsessively research trauma in children now to compensate for your own guilt from last year.
“Why’d you keep the bat?” You ask as Steve grabs it, giving it a practice swing. Your own blades are out again and he eyes their gleam.
“It’s kinda sick, don’t ya think?” He swings it again. “I look badass with it.”
He’s dodging, but you sense that he kept the bat for the same reason as why you kept the switchblade. You’ve been waiting in fear for something else to happen. “You don’t look too bad with it.”
Steve blushes a bit, which your stomach flutters seeing. “I, uh… Guess we can’t have that talk tonight?”
“No, not unless we somehow manage to deal with Dart in a timely manner. However, if I recall, nothing ever goes our way.”
“Nope!” He closes the trunk and tosses you a flashlight. Then, he sticks his hand out for you to shake. “But for now… Truce?”
You giggle. “Truce.”
His hand is warm, and even though you had just been holding it in the car moments earlier, his touch still fills you with a gooey warmth that you’ve come to associate with him. As soon as you and him are alone, away from Dustin’s nosy ears, you’ll really apologize to Steve. He may be being nice to you now, but he’s still guarding himself from you.
You hate it. You miss how open he used to be with you.
“Ready to go re-live my nightmares?” Steve asks.
You give him a thumbs up as you start heading towards Dustin. “Always, let’s go.”
“Took you guys long enough.” Your brother mutters when you and Steve arrive at the cellar, weapons in hand. You flash him an apologetic smile while Steve simply ignores him.
Steve approaches the door and listens for a second, “I don’t hear shit.”
You frown and listen as well. He’s right, it’s eerily silent. You shoot Dustin a questioning look and he shrugs as well, “He’s in there.”
“Duh, I know that much, You almost knocked me out when you shoved past me to get Dart in there.” you remark, before softly adding “he’s gotta be in there.”
Your words don’t reassure Steve, who begins to use the tip of his bat to bang against the locked doors. When nothing happens, he bangs harder against them before sighing in annoyance.
“All right, listen kid.” Steve begins, and you start to rub small circles into your scalp in a vain attempt to lessen your headache, because you already know that the next words out of his mouth will start yet another fight. “I swear, if this is some sort of Halloween prank, you’re dead.”
“Steve…” He ignores you and stares down your brother, shining the flashlight directly at his face in what you assume is meant to be a threatening manner.
“It's not a prank,” Dustin tiredly replies, squinting his eyes against the light. “Get it out of my face.”
Steve complies, still hesitant about the situation at hand, and turns to face you. “You got a key to this thing?”
You nod and fish the keys from out of your pocket and unlock the cellar doors. Steve bends down to investigate, and without him having to ask, you hand him the flashlight and step forward so that you’re next to him.
He flashes the light down the stairs and all that the three of you can see is darkness. An uneasy feeling creeps over you. Something isn’t right, but you really hope that you’re wrong.
“He has to be further down,” you say, more so to reassure yourself than the others.
Dustin shuffles his feet next to you and says, with an extremely unconvincingly “brave” voice, “I’ll stay up here in case he tries to… escape.”
Both you and Steve look at him in disbelief. Dustin stands his ground, however, and looks at the two of you expectantly. Steve shakes his head while you sigh in defeat. Your brother is such a pain sometimes.
“You do realize that if Dart eats me, you’ll have to deal with mom all by yourself, right?” You ask him.
The boy shrugs at you. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take, Y/N.”
“Yeah, love you too.” You mumble, before you begin to follow Steve down the steps.
“I’ll be thinking of you!” Dustin calls out, his voice echoing against the cellar walls.
You trail behind Steve, and the flashlight he brought does nothing to illuminate the dark area, so it’s a relief when he reaches above his head to turn the light on. As your eyes adjust to the light change, you scan the room to find the missing demodog. However, all your eyes land on is a long, thin sheet of film on the ground that you can only assume is molted skin.
“Oh, shit…” you breathe out. “This isn’t good.”
Steve picks the skin up with the tip of his bat and examines it and shakes his head. “Please tell me this isn’t Dart.”
“Actually, it’d be easier if it was him.”
Steve doesn’t laugh at your joke; he continues to look around the room before his eyes widen. You turn your head to see what’s caught his attention, and when you spot the problem, your knees weaken.
There’s a giant, Dart-sized hole in your cellar wall.
“Steve? Y/N? What’s going on down there?” Dustin’s voice carries down to you guys, and you and Steve share a nervous glance.
“Dustin…” You call up to him, your voice weaker than you’d prefer. You wish you could be braver for him at the moment, but right now it takes everything within you not to crawl into bed and shut the world out. Why did it always have to be giant monsters?
While you’re reeling, Steve walks over to the bottom of the steps and flashes his light at Dustin, instructing him to come down. Once the boy has joined you guys, Steve guides the light to his bat so that Dustin can see the skin.
“Oh, shit.”
“Funnily enough, that’s what your sister said, too.”
Then Steve shines the light to where the hole in the wall is, and you watch Dustin’s face go from concerned to horrified. “Oh, shit!”
The three of you crouch closer to the hole, and when Steve shines the flashlight through it, your heart stops and you gasp, “It’s a tunnel.”
“No way…” Dustin says in awe.
It’s hard to see exactly how deep the tunnel goes, but something tells you that there’s more to it than meets the eye. This wouldn’t be some simple fix like you had desperately hoped it would be.
Now you really, really wish Jonathan were here. And Nancy. Definitely Nancy.
But they aren’t. This time, you’re on your own with only Steve and Dustin by your side. No one else in the party is available, you don’t even know where they are or if they’re even safe, but right now that doesn’t matter.
What matters is that Dart has escaped.
And it’s happening again.
Everything you’ve tried so hard for the last year to ignore, to move on and pretend never happened to you, has come crashing back into your life.
Steve, seeing your apprehension, grabs your hand and pulls you in close. “Hey, we’ll figure it out. I’ll be here, okay?”
Even though you don’t deserve his kindness, his sincerity, you believe him.
-
⌑ series masterlist
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noka-exe · 1 year
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lazy
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delhe-dalim · 6 months
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tots 🐢
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yourlocaltoad · 8 days
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what a bunch of yappers
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icy-gendango · 4 months
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>:3
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i forgot to post these onesssss
@venomous-qwille's guys have infected my brain fr fr. im afraid it's terminal >:3
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lin-iva · 8 months
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FIONNA AND CAKE!!!!
I love em.
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crocchompers · 16 days
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SOME DOODLES OF TOYLAND BC I THINK HE'S JUST THE CUTEST <3
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sh-0-w-1-sh · 1 month
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Cowboy AU! Designs
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