#but sometimes i think we forget how Hopper was one of the first adults El really trusted???

[jonathanbyersphd]

Coming on here to complain that sometimes in the Hopper-Byers of it all I think people forget about the relationship between El and Hopper and it makes me mad

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

i had fun with this one! enjoy :)

You hear the yelling and shouting before you’re even at the front step to the cabin. Looking down at Vice, you mutter, “Uh oh, boy, what are we walking into now?” Vice lets out a little bark and tilts his head, tongue lolling out of his mouth. You sigh and nod, “Agreed. Definitely something stupid. Well, come on then.” You jog up the front steps, holding loosely onto the leash so Vice trots behind you at his own pace.

The shouting gets louder when you open the front door and it’s clear that both Hopper and El are equally angry. Vice looks up at you with wide eyes and you hurriedly unclip his leash - he darts off, making a beeline for El’s bedroom. He’s probably going to hide under the bed and you’ll have to drag him out, dust bunnies and all, when the fight is over. Coward. Jim and El are standing two or three feet apart, faces red with anger, fists clenched at their sides, and voices so loud the windowpanes are rattling. Although the rattling windowpanes could be a result of El’s anger controlling her powers - either way, it’s loud. “Hey!” you call out a couple of times, trying to get their attention, but they’re both so absorbed in the shouting, they don’t notice you. You sigh and raise your hand to your mouth, letting loose a sharp, ear-piercing whistle. The shouting stops and both Hopper and El swivel their heads to face you. There’s matching looks of annoyance on their faces and it would almost make you laugh if you weren’t annoyed by the shouting. “What the hell’s going on here?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest. You jut your chin in the direction of El’s room, “Poor Vice is hiding under the bed, you freaked him out so much!” El’s face softens, “Oh no! Poor Vice! I don’t want him freaked out.” “Cares more about freaking out the damn dog than her own dad,” Hopper scoffs under his breath, causing El to turn to him, glaring and opening her mouth to start yelling again. You hold up a hand - the universal sign for stop - and say, “Oh no, no more yelling. You two are going to - calmly - explain what’s going on here.” Hopper looks about ready to explode - his face is red, his forehead is creased in anger, and he keeps clenching his hands into and out of fists. El looks marginally more calm, but you know that sometimes her anger is deceptive, hidden beneath still waters. Sighing again, you cross your arms and nod towards El, “Go ahead,” you tell her, before they can start shouting over each other. As it is, Hopper sputters angrily, barely able to form sentences as he protests the indignity of being told to wait. You ignore him. “Dad is being unreasonable!” El says, tone verging on a whine. You shoot her a look and she pouts. “Unreasonable? Fine, if I’m unreasonable, then you’re grounded for two months and no TV for three!” Hopper interjects angrily. “How am I supposed to see my friends?!” El shrieks back, her eyes flashing angrily. Hopper scoffs, “You’re not! That’s the point!” They’re shouting at each other again and you wonder how you lost control so quickly. You’re still not sure what happened, but then your gaze lands on a crumpled magazine discarded on the floor by Hopper’s feet. You skirt behind him and kick it to the side a bit before bending down and picking it up. Recognition dawns on your face as you take note of the cover. Oh. Some of the pieces are falling into place now. The bright colours and lurid headlines of last month’s Cosmo shine up at you and you wince as Hopper’s shouting grows louder. Sex tips for mutual pleasure are advertised in bold red letters and while you make a mental note to flip back to that article, you can also understand why Hopper’s freaking out so badly. Still, the shouting and punishing is a little over the top. “Hey,” you say loudly, reaching out and grabbing Hopper’s forearm and distracting him, “go take Vice for a walk and cool off.” “What?” Hopper stops yelling and looks at you, confusion clear in the scrunch of his eyebrows. “No. I’m not - she’s in trouble and I’m not coolin’ off.” “Jim,” you say his name quietly, but firmly. “This is a conversation I can handle. Please go calm down before you say something you regret.” His forearm is tense under your hand and his jaw works silently - he clearly wants to continue arguing with both you and El, but you look into his eyes and raise an eyebrow, communicating silently. He frowns deeply, but huffs an angry sigh. “Fine. Don’t think you’re off the hook ‘cause Y/n took over,” he points at El. “Don’t care what she tells ya, you’re still grounded for two weeks.” El opens her mouth to protest, but your hand lands on her shoulder and you cut her off with a silent look. “Go on, poor dog’s terrified,” you tell Hopper and watch silently as he stomps into El’s room and retrieves Vice from under the bed. He emerges a minute later with the dust-covered spaniel tucked under his arm. “An hour okay?” he asks you tightly. You nod and he replies with a terse nod of his own before snatching Vice’s leash off the hook by the front door and stepping out onto the porch. He lets the door slam shut behind him and you wait a minute for his heavy footsteps to fade away before turning to El. “Okay,” you sigh, “lets get comfortable, hon.” “He is being mean!” El pouts, stamping her foot on the floor. You ignore her outburst and traipse into the kitchen, intent on finding a snack to make the conversation easier. El, seeing that you’re not going to play into her mini-tantrum, pouts further and follows you into the kitchen. “He’s concerned,” you say simply, setting a bag of chocolate chip cookies onto the counter. You drop the crumpled Cosmo to the table next and tap lightly on the cover with an index finger. “Because of this.” “The magazine?” El’s face crinkles up in an adorable display of confusion. “Mhm,” you nod, “see, the magazine is for adults, about, um, well it’s about adult things.” “Like good screaming?” El asks, biting casually into a cookie. Now it’s your turn to scrunch your face up in confusion. “Huh?” you ask, frowning at the teen. “Good screams?” “Yeah,” El says, leaning forward curiously. “I heard you and my dad and I asked Max and she said that sometimes bad screams and good screams sound the same and she gave me her mom’s magazine to explain it.” El’s words sink in and your face flushes a bright red. “Oh my god,” you mutter to yourself, horrified. “I started to look, but dad saw and freaked out,” she continues, a dark look coming over her face when she mentions Hopper. “That was bad screaming.” “Oh,” you mutter weakly. This was so not the direction you thought the conversation was going to go. “Y/n, what’s good screaming?” El asks, biting into a second cookie. You scrub your hand over your face - a gesture picked up from Hopper - and sigh. “Um, so basically, when two adults, two consenting adults -“ El’s nose wrinkles at the unfamiliar word. “What’s consenting?” “It means you agree to do something,” you say quickly, grateful for a question you can actually answer. El nods and continues to look at you expectantly. Okay, sex talk. That’s a thing that’s happening today, clearly. ———— “That was worse than fighting in ‘Nam,” Jim grumbles as you get ready for bed later. After you had bumbled through a very awkward talk with El, Jim had come back home much calmer. Until you explained what had caused El to seek out the Cosmo in the first place. If it hadn’t been so horrifying and embarrassing, the look on Hopper’s face would’ve been hysterical. He’d only looked even more miserable after you had insisted that they both go back and talk to El again - including an apology from Hopper - just to make sure she understood what was happening. It had been miserable and awkward and you were sure that all three of you were going to have a difficult time looking the others in the eye for a while. And now you were getting ready for bed - only sleeping for a long time, or at least a long time while El was in the house - and Hopper was complaining. “You’re such an ass, Jim,” you shake your head and roll your eyes. “That was not worse than fighting in Vietnam.” “How you you know?” Jim retorts, shooting you a stink eye. “Were you there?” You roll your eyes at him and snark back, “Obviously not, I’m not ancient.” “Ooh,” Hopper narrows his eyes at you playfully, “you’re just askin’ for it, aren’t ya?” He gives you a wolfish grin and climbs on top of you, pinning you to the mattress with his bulk. You giggle and hook your legs around his waist, heels digging into his ass. “C’mon, Hop,” you grin, “do I have to spell it out for you?” His eyes are dark and his grin is feral when he dips his head to suck a nearly painful hickey just above your breast. You toss you head back and gasp loudly. His beard scratches your skin and you know your skin is going to be red and chafed tomorrow. But then he sucks a nipple into his mouth, rolling it with his tongue, and you forget all about the possibility of sore skin. “Jim, oh my god,” you mumble breathlessly, grasping at his shoulders when one of his hands trails down your side and slides under your panties. His thumb presses against your clit and you let out a loud moan. Hopper jolts a little at the sound and suddenly looks around uncomfortably. His hand moves away and you lift your head, a little dizzy. “What? Where’d your hand go?” you mutter, blinking lazily. “Y’think the kid can hear us?” he asks quietly, looking concerned. “Oh,” you frown, “I, uh, hadn’t thought about - I guess she - because of the screams - yeah.” You fumble awkwardly for words, the entirety of the night’s earlier events slipping your mind. “Maybe we should...pause for a bit,” you suggest, trying desperately to ignore the throbbing between your legs. “Yeah,” Hopper agrees unenthusiastically. He runs his hand over his face and rolls back over to lay on his back. His erection tents his boxers and you glance down at him. Tilting your chin at him, you bite your lower lip and say, “Maybe you should hit the shower and take care of that?” “Yeah,” Hopper drawls, and then he gets a look in his eye, “she probably can’t hear us over the water running, right?” A slow smile spreads across your face when you realize what Hopper’s suggesting. “Absolutely not,” you reply, already hopping out of bed and pulling your shirt over your head. The fabric drops to the floor and you giggle when Hopper’s hands wrap around your waist. He presses a kiss against your shoulder blade. “Think we can stick to shower sex until she goes to college?” you ask breathlessly. “Gonna be a hell of a water bill,” Hopper deadpans. “But,” you counter, dragging him into the bathroom, “it’ll be worth it if we never have to hear about good screams and bad screams again.”

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[platypanthewriter]

Strangest 1: Pandora’s Trunk

Strangest takes place the same night as the climax of season two, after Steve and Billy’s fight and Joyce Byer’s BF died.  (Did Tumblr eat chapters 1-3?  Did I never post them?  I do not know!  I couldn’t find them, so here’s the first!)

It totally made sense that Max would stay with Lucas and Dustin in the blanket fort that was taking over the living area of the Byers house. And of course El and Mike had laid claim to the table, where it looked like they were assembling crowns and helmets, of Will’s design.

Mrs. Byers and Hopper had taken over Adulting, which was a relief, and Steve had ducked out amidst a general explosion of affectionate profanity and hair ruffling. Through the window, he could see them tearing hot chocolate packets open--he watched Mrs. Byers teasing the kids with different mismatched mugs, and cocked his head. He didn’t really fit in there, he thought, in the blanket fort, or in the tense kitchen after the kids retreated to their realm. He definitely didn’t belong wherever Jonathan and Nancy had disappeared to. It made sense for him to leave.

The fog had lifted, and he willed his shoulders to unclench, all the while trying to figure out the closest place to his bed to hide his bat. An evening project to keep him from thinking about his completely empty house. His house was also fine, since he was not injured, or twelve years old, and had working light switches. Logically, it was over. His brain just wasn’t catching up to breaking news.

He sat more heavily against the Camaro, and it thumped back, which provoked an, again, entirely logical windmilling tumble as Steve tried to keep the bat and both eyes pointed at it all the while scrambling away on three limbs. After a moment of eye-burning terror, he recognized the pattern of sound as kicking and a lot of things Max’ brother probably didn’t need to be calling her, and he stood with a nervous spin, yanking his jacket straight.

He took a breath and held it, rolling his shoulders as he looked back at the cheerily lit Byer’s house with every light on, and back to the car bouncing with the booted feet slamming against the inside of the trunk. After several paced circuits of the car, Billy’s voice had stopped threatening. He was laughing, slamming himself around in there, his voice getting higher. Steve scrabbled at his hair, sliding his hands down to cover his face. He really wasn’t sure any kind of logic applied to Billy Hargrove.

If he let Billy out here, he might just run in there and Hopper would have to shoot him, in front of a ton of little shitheads who had barely escaped being eaten by monsters today. If he just...drove him to his house, somebody would eventually let him out, and...would Max let him out?! Steve groaned to himself, long and slow, because if they were anything like Steve’s parents, Billy Hargrove’d be no trouble to anyone ever again, after he died because nobody looked for him and Steve Harrington knowingly left a human being in the trunk of a car. 

Steve took a few deep breaths, idly walking back around to regard the open car window, and the keys on the seat. He looked back at the house for one long hopeful moment, to see Hopper patting Joyce on the back as she threw weak punches into his shoulders, flailing before he caught her against his jacket. They swayed there in silhouette, their shoulders shaking. Steve sighed. He kicked the trunk. The thumping stopped, then exploded again, and Steve banged again.

“Listen,” he started, and the banging stopped, for long enough that Steve thought it would have been better if he had something to say. “I didn’t leave you in there, and I can’t let you out--” the banging started again in earnest, along with a lot of “fuck”s, “bitch”s, and demands about Max--it was a good thing Hopper’d put music on in the house. “Max is fine! She’s inside--I’ll let you out somewhere else, do you want me to take you home, or--” the thumping stopped.

“Where the fuck is that freak, I’ll kill her, I’ll kill you, you fucking--” Steve banged the trunk again, and Billy pounded back, screaming incoherently.

“Mrs. Byers called your house, Max is staying over!” he tried, on the off-chance this could just suddenly turn into a normal, post-monster, partially kidnapped conversation. “I’LL TAKE YOU HOME, THEN,” he said loudly into the seam of the trunk, and Billy started struggling again.

“Max has to go home,” the muffled, furious voice yelled back, pounding and scraping at the inside of the trunk loudly enough that he was probably injuring himself, and Steve thought it was completely unfair the death threats were still audible. “I’ll be back here the second you open this fucking trunk, Harrington, I’ll drag her back by the fucking hair, I’ll tie it to my car, I’ll run over her corpse, I’ll drive through their fucking house--”

Peaceful options exhausted, Steve climbed in the car, leaning his face on the steering wheel as the car shook with Billy’s screaming fury, and took another deep breath. Count on Steve Harrington to forget how to breathe, he thought, only been doing it for sixteen years. Only Steve Harrington wouldn’t have figured it out enough to let it run in the background. By the time they were halfway to Steve’s house, Billy’d stopped yelling. Occasionally there’d be another kick.

By the time Steve pulled in the garage, he was worried enough about exhaust fumes as a new method of involuntary manslaughter he ran right around and banged on the trunk about six times. “Hargrove! William Whatever Hargrove, you answer me, say you’re alive.” He leaned against it, panting, feeling like he’d aged sixty years in body and vocabulary. The trunk thumped back, and Steve slid down to sit against it, reminding himself to breathe, which was apparently something he did now. He’d probably fail his remaining classes, trying to study while remembering to breathe. How would he hold down a job? He’d show up for the interview and have to say “I’m Steve Harrington, and sometimes I forget to breathe.”

The trunk was silent again, and after a while getting his lungs some breathing practice again--maybe they’d take to it--Steve thumped it again. “We’re at my place. If I let you out and call for pizza will you please not kill anyone.” It came out tiredly even.

“What the fuck,” came from the trunk. “Gonna get the police here, tell ‘em I attacked you like a psycho, have your mommy and daddy hold yo--”

Steve banged the heel of his hand on the trunk again. “Nobody else is here. Look, it’s pizza or trunk. We can figure this out in the morning. Promise you won’t do anything to Max.”

The banging in the trunk was taking on a rhythm, and Steve banged over it. “Fucker. Tell me you won’t rat Max out, I’ll let you out.”

Billy began screaming lyrics to his beat, and Steve groaned, letting his head thunk against the trunk, before doing the math on how long Billy’d been in there, and how little he knew about the random syringe Max had shot him up with, and he opened the trunk. Billy’s ankles and wrists were duct-taped together, wedged in, and he swore roundly as he tried to cover his face. “Come on,” Steve sighed, standing to the side where he hoped he was out of range, but reaching over to rip the duct tape off Billy’s ankles. Billy was laughing, inexplicably, holding his arms over his face.

Steve sighed. “Can you walk.”

“Anyway you want, Princess,” Billy giggled.

“Come on,” Steve stood over by the door, arms crossed as he watched Billy kick a bit out the side of the trunk, then get himself rolled sideways. He scrabbled before landing on the cement with a thud, and lay there, laughing harder. It was starting to sound growly again, and Steve rethought his impulse to offer help. “I’m getting pepperoni. With olives.”

When Billy finally staggered in from the garage, Steve had called for the pizza. He turned to see the door slam shut, and Billy slide down it, gnawing at the duct tape around his wrists. His hands were purple.

Steve slammed a few kitchen drawers and stalked over with the carving knife, and Billy went very still, watching him crouch, and allowing him to pull the duct tape close enough to slide the knife up.

When Steve finished slicing, he tossed the knife behind him at random, grabbing one purple hand and rubbing it until it felt like a hand again and not a dissection frog. “Jesus. Max thought you were gonna kill me. And Lucas. Don’t sell her out.”

Billy drew a shaky breath. “And you’re not gonna tell your fancy lawyer dad I broke your face.”

“...my dad’s not a lawyer,” Steve frowned at him, --“Hopper’d probably have locked you up.” He placed the warmed hand on Billy’s knee, and moved on to rub life back into the other one.

“So I behave,” Billy sneered. “Be a good little cunt.”

“Wish the fucking pizza would get here,” Steve muttered, sinking down against the arm of the couch that let him see the whole living room, kitchen, and stairs. When the pizzas arrived, his kidnapping victim shoved by him to drop into that favoured spot on the couch, and Steve sighed.

When morning came, Steve called Max, and she agreed to Billy picking her up for a ride home. After he left, Steve stood in his silent house, getting a little more breathing practise in as his vision started to haze around the edges, thinking of all the things Billy Hargrove wasn’t, like an underground tunneler, or a demogorgon. Billy Hargrove was from Risky Business, not Alien. He was the sweaty “enhanced human” Khan.

Steve forgot about his breathing regimen entirely as he imagined Billy Hargrove in the cast from Grease, and laughed ‘til he choked. Shaking his head, he leaned back against the door, and rubbed his face. All day at school when his brain started to remind him of the previous week, he’d imagine Billy Hargrove as Danny Zuko, shimmying down his Camaro with Tommy behind him trying to carry a tune.

Hopper called that day, to tell him that Mr. Hargrove had called the cops the last two nights on Billy driving around at night, and they’d escorted him home from close to Steve’s house. “In case he ran somebody over drunk. I hear stuff, kid.” The doubt came clearly through his voice. “I don’t know that he’s headin’ for you, but I don’t know that he’s not.” Steve took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, completing the line for himself--maybe keep that bat handy.

“Thanks, Hopper,” he tried the nickname aloud.

Hopper huffed a laugh and hung up.

Billy Hargrove was back at Steve’s house three nights later, serenading under his window. Steve looked longingly at his ski boots, but lifted the sash without projectiles in hand. “What the hell,” he shouted back.

“Lemme in or I’ll tell my dad you offer rides to Max all the time!” Billy yelled up. “Alone!”

Steve, who had gone to an in-class-only new sleeping schedule, suddenly wished his vocal cords could produce the earsplitting rage screeches from Ghostbusters, but let his head thud against the glass in surrender before he went down and unlocked the door. “The fuck do you want, Hargrove,” he squinted up at the moon. “Are you a werewolf, is this where I die.” Later, he’d think, that moment would have been the time to call Hopper.

Billy shouldered him aside as he opened the door, cigarette in hand and reeking of sweat, cologne, beer, and...cooking sherry? It was both reminiscent of and an improvement on Steve’s great-aunt, who usually smelled like baby powder, cat pee, and creme de menthe. Steve’s lungs apparently appreciated it, because they decided to do their job for once without his constantly reminding them. He scrabbled angrily at his hair, before tromping into the kitchen to start making some Folger’s. When the microwave beeped, he stirred in about half the remaining jar of crystals, and went to see why there was no noise happening anywhere.

The couch was covered in Violent Highschool Stranger, under a blanket. Steve dropped into a chair, watching the knee-lumps and elbow-lump stay very still. He wondered whether he’d sleep better upstairs with an unpredictable problem on the couch, and whether suggesting a movie would get his face beaten in--with admirable calm, he thought.

He also thought of not living alone--having a mom like Mrs. Byers, or a sister like Nancy, and imagined what they'd do if they came in and saw he'd brought Billy Hargrove, the guy who almost beat him to death, into his house twice. They'd probably murder him, he thought, and then murder Billy. And then him again--this had to be at least a three-murder event on the Stupidity Scale. Hopper would probably have even more to say. It was a strangely comforting thought, except they weren’t here, and Billy Hargrove was. He didn’t seem to want to break Steve’s nose again, but then he hadn’t given that much warning the first time, either.

Between Steve’s new not-sleeping regime and thinking about the Byer’s ceiling, map taped everywhere, Billy’s fists hitting his face, the world had just started to tilt a bit when the blanket said “Take a picture, Princess, you can jack off to it at night,” and Steve lifted his coffee stew and breathed in the smell.

“What didja think I did with that blanket,” he tried, and watched it get flung as Billy scrambled as far from it as possible, thudding onto his back off the side of the couch, and Steve realized he was laughing again, wheezing with his hand against his face. When he finally looked up, Billy was brushing himself off, straightening his jacket, and Steve imagined the look on his own face after his trunk had thumped back. “Nah, I didn’t.” He patted his lip where the grin had stretched it, glancing down to check for blood. “Much.” When Billy’s hackles raised further, Steve shouted over his rising glower. “How about Star Wars?”

“Hell is wrong with you,” Billy muttered, but settled in the corner of the couch, apparently waiting for Steve to set up the movie. By the time C-3P0 was trying to get to Obi-Wan, Billy’d passed out against the arm, his boots tucked up between the cushions. The smell of cooking sherry intensified, and the glint Steve noticed against the black leather and laces proved to be a hunk of broken glass. There was more in the boot treads, and he could see a couple very small pieces caught in Billy’s shirt and hair. It was hard not to imagine the bank-robbing explosion Billy Hargrove would be walking away from, but his car was parked right out front, hard to miss, if the cops were looking for him. Steve had never seen a SWAT team. Count on them to miss out on actual monsters and chase Billy Hargrove to his house, he thought, indignantly sleepy, and shivered awake hours later, to fogging breath and the white noise of the TV. He groaned, leaning forward to flap one arm at the remote, and switched off the TV. In the dark, he realized the slight rasp of Billy’s breathing had stopped.

“...don’t die on my couch,” he mumbled, frowning into the darkness, which remained dark, but the normal, fridge-humming kind of dark, not the strange blue fluttering darkness where Dustin had screamed. He breathed in stale cigarette smoke and cooking sherry.

Billy snorted. “Just for you.���

He was back in the safer kind of movie, again, Steve thought muzzily, kids having sleepovers. There were movies where killers interrupted sleepovers, but they were humans, not monsters, and anyway he was not actually having a slumber party with Billy Hargrove: Probable Bank Robber. He felt around next to the couch for the blanket, and pulled it clumsily over them. It occurred to him he hadn’t actually asked. “Sooooo...you rob a bank?” he tried, keeping it casual.

“Sure did,” Billy scoffed, “--shot four guys, too. And there’s a stolen police car out there.”

“Oh, it’s that kind of movie.” Steve squirmed down against the back of the couch, letting his head fall against his arms in the safe darkness. The blanket fell over his face.

“You’re not going to call the cops and tell them you’ve got a bank robber?” Billy kicked him, and Steve batted weakly at his foot, eyes sliding shut again.

“Watch it, you--broken glass...shoe.”

He woke to the fading smell of cooking sherry, and blinked slowly at the ceiling, the sudden deep sleep disorienting after he’d thought he’d never sleep again outside of Biology class. “...wha--um,” he muttered, scrambling to look around. There was no sign of his home invader. He wondered how many murders “falling asleep with Billy ‘bank punching’ Hargrove a foot away” rated on the Idiot Scale, he had to be up to, oh, at least four. He felt a weird temptation to ask Nancy before first period. He fiddled with his locker, considering it. The line between her brows deepened, and probably became downright thunderous as he grinned awkwardly at she and Jonathan, turned on his heel, and walked off.

That day after basketball, in the showers, Tommy guffawed at the hand-shaped bruises on Billy’s upper arms. “Where were you last night? All night long, huh?” He leered, shifted to making long groans and grunting noises, and before Steve could catch himself, words fell out of his mouth.

“Those are huge, though, is your girlfriend Sylvester Stallone or--” he yelped as Billy shoved him against the wall, grin manic.

“What you trying to say, pretty boy King Steve?”

“I think he’s calling you a--” Tommy smacked the wall and showerhead on his way to the floor as Billy shoved his face. “A fucking faggot,” he yelled triumphantly, from the floor, as Steve wondered why he was allowed to open his mouth, ever, at all, and Billy tried to swing around and punch him and almost fell on his ass.

“It was my fucking dad, okay, it’s no big deal. My dad,” Billy was screaming between them, as they both dodged around, until the teacher and half the class shoved their way in and pulled him away. Steve fled. He dressed wondering how many more deserved Stupidity Murders he’d earned, getting in the communal shower with the guy who’d beaten his face in, and then opening his dumb fuckhead mouth and suggesting he’d had sex with Rambo. Nancy was in the hall listening to Billy yelling inside, when Steve ducked out of the locker room with his pants on but half his head still soapy, and she helped him rinse his hair in the drinking fountain.

“I think you and Hopper and Jonathan’s mom need to murder me about eleven times,” he told her, laughing, as he wiped water from his eyes. “I think I just asked Hargrove if he was gay, in the shower.” Her mouth fell open.

“Uh,” her eyebrows drew together as she looked at the locker room, but her mouth quirked, “--should we be running, then?”

“I probably should carry my bat,” he laughed, feeling around his ears one more time for soap, then grimacing and digging around in his bag for a sweaty gym shirt to rub on his head. When he pulled it out, she looked even more disgusted than he felt.

“I’ve got dry clothes in my locker. You can at least use a clean shirt.” She stuck her tongue out, trotting confidently off. “Bleah.”

Steve’s unfriendly neighborhood home invader didn’t reappear for over a week, but falling asleep to movies apparently worked, so he re-watched the beginnings of Rambo, Tron, and The Last Unicorn, discovered he could not fall asleep to Monty Python, and bought a much larger jar of Folger’s for mornings when even the dulcet tones of Winnie the Pooh hadn’t let his lungs work through the night without reminder.

The next time Billy showed up he just banged on the door, startling Steve out of the haze he’d fallen into during a Secret of NIMH song. Steve groaned, flapped unproductively at the remote to stop the animated mice, and then stumbled to his feet to make the door-abuse stop. The pounding continued through his shouted “I’m coming! I’m coming! ” until Billy Hargrove nearly fell in on top of him, half naked, and began hopping into the other half of his jeans.

“...what the hell.” Steve stared.

“What is that noise.” Billy scrambled to pull his jacket on, shivering, and nearly elbowed Steve in the face.

“...uh, it’s, um, mice?” Steve blinked at Billy’s face, which looked like it needed some frozen peas. “Uh. Lemme get you some frozen peas.” Billy tried to slam by him as usual, but Steve wasn’t good at basketball for nothing, and slid by the predictable motion on the way to the freezer. He tossed over the peas, proudly not adding to his Stupidity Gauge by getting within five feet of the half-naked feral in his kitchen. It seemed unlikely Billy had accused anyone of having sex with Sylvester Stallone in a communal shower, but the parallels to his Eleven On The Stupidity Murder Scale day were hard to discount. The shiner he was sporting looked exactly like Steve would have gotten if he hadn't escaped to the hallway. Focus, he thought.

“Make me some of that coffee,” Billy was shivering, glaring at the peas. If he’d been anyone else, Steve would have teasingly explained how to press frozen peas against a black eye, but given their last interaction, he just let his lips thin.

“Hot chocolate? I’ve got marshmallows.”

The furious disbelief Billy had focused on the peas turned to Steve’s face, amplified. “Did you just offer me marshmallows.”

“I have some,” Steve sighed, taking down his blue mug, and one that said Happy Anniversary. After a pause, he returned the anniversary mug to the cupboard, and grabbed one with a robin on it, filled them both with water, and stuck the robin in the microwave.

“Marshmallows.”

“Look, if you don’t like marshmallows, don’t eat any.” He pulled out the bag, the Swiss Miss, and the instant coffee.

“Rainbow marshmallows,” Billy observed scornfully. “You’re girlier than Max.”

“Everyone’s girlier than Max, except Hopper and Mrs. Byers,” Steve sighed. “Coffee or chocolate. I mix them sometimes.”

“You rebel,” Billy snorted. “Gimme some marshmallows. You call the Sheriff ‘Hopper’?” He held out a hand, finally lifting the other to his face, and wincing as he placed the peas against the swelling bruise. Steve had seen enough marshmallow bags absconded with to just drop some in the outstretched hand, the bag protectively at his side. He watched Billy start to drop the whole handful in his mouth, wince as he tried to open his mouth wide, and begin eating one at a time. “...kinda got to know him. Me and El and the, y’know,” he held his hand at waist level, picturing Dustin’s indignant protest, “Muppet babies.”

“Yeah, how’d that happen?”

Steve reminded himself to breathe. “Barb died. Bob died. You should be careful, you’ve got half the ‘b’s in your name.” He turned away as the microwave beeped.

“What.” Billy’s eyes narrowed.

“Is it raining?” Steve asked. “Why are you all wet?”

“Fuck off,” Billy said around his mouthful of marshmallows, and Steve shrugged, presenting the steaming mug, a spoon, the box of chocolate mix, and the Folger’s.

“I give you the bird,” he said grandly, tossing his mug in the microwave. Billy snorted, dumping three chocolate packets in the mug, and making grabby hands for the marshmallows.

Steve surrendered the bag, leaning against the counter by the microwave. He watched Billy wipe the water away that was trickling down his neck, and try to pretend he wasn’t shaking, dripping wet, in November. Steve stomped off for a towel, returning to throw it to Billy just before the microwave beeped. “Gimme back those girly marshmallows,” Steve began dumping powders in his mug, stirring industriously, before topping it with a pile of rainbow.

Billy stalked off to take Steve’s spot on the couch, before sliding off to flip through the laserdiscs. “Gonna punch these mice,” he muttered, lifting one, and flipped it to read the back. "You have movies for grownups? Whaddaya do when there aren't, like, singing frogs, you just fall asleep or--?"

"Oh no, not that one," Steve breathed, horrified. "That's Nancy's, it gave me nightmares."

"...IRA bombers?" Billy frowned up incredulously.

"No! It's a romance, it's awful, the guy falls in love with the girl and she has a dick and she thought he KNEW--"

"What," Billy's voice had gone flat.

"That night I dreamt I was in bed with Nancy for the first time and she took my clothes off and I was dickless with a secret pussy--"

"Everyone knows that, Harrington--"

"Shut your face, it was horrible, she just kept patting my hand sadly and she's a problem solver, you know, she kept going to the kitchen and getting, like, a banana, and the pepper grinder--"

The laserdisc sleeve drummed softly at Billy's head as he shook with laughter.

"And she just looked more and more disappointed and finally she said she had to leave, she couldn't cope with a relationship where she had to satisfy herself with a garlic press, and she was sure I'd be happier moving on--" Steve had been laughing too, at the image of Nancy earnestly presenting him with carnally unsatisfactory kitchen gadgets, but he sighed, rubbing his face. "Usually when I dreamed she'd dump me it was because I was invisible, or she was the president and she caught me setting up a kegstand in the--"

"I'm gonna call you 'Secret Pussy' forever," Billy interrupted.

"You will the hell not--"

"What?!" Billy laughed harder.

"I'm not a secret pussy, I'm secretly Kurt Russell, all my..." he slid further down in the couch, curling around his snickers, "--ten out of ten trick-or-treaters agree."

"You telling me you're half-blind, because it'd explain--" The doorbell rang, over and over, like a blaring red alert, along with voices and the thump of bicycles against the side of the house, and Steve scrambled up to reach the entryway before Dustin, Mike, and Will all fell in at once. "We need hot chocolate," Dustin said confidently, and Steve grimaced, thinking fast, before inwardly throwing his hands up and outwardly yelling "BILLY! Put on the kettle for hot chocolate!"

Silence fell, all three kids going still, but after a few seconds the couch creaked, and Billy walked into the kitchen, and the sink turned on.

“Is he holding you hostage,” Dustin whispered, eyes wide as he leaned around Steve’s shoulders.

“He’s probably eating marshmallows.” Steve raised his eyebrows at them, wondering whether it was stupid or just evil to allow the kids around Billy, who’d settled in, in a weird way, but also probably bit occasionally. Unprompted. He didn’t want any of his stupidity murders to be because someone got actually murdered.

“Will came for a sleepover,” Mike reported, glancing into the kitchen warily. “And we were gaming, and it was fine, but then there was a short in the kitchen and sparks and--”

Will sniffled, rubbing his eyes with his sleeve. “I can’t call my mom,” he rolled his thin shoulders back, firming his chin as he looked up at Steve, “--she’ll never let me out again--”

“He started crying all crazy,” Dustin put in, ever helpful, to a general elbowing, “--and I said, Steve has hot chocolate, and a bat.”

“...ah,” Steve glanced at the kitchen. “Did you guys let her know you were coming here? So she doesn’t call and find you guys--”

“We called,” Mike laughed apologetically. “We said you invited us over.”

Billy tromped back out to the living room, presumably to sneer at singing mice, as Steve herded the tiny assholes towards hot chocolate.

“Why is he here,” Dustin whispered, very loudly, with his usual degree of subtlety. Mike and Will nodded, and Steve laughed, rubbing his face.

“It’s fine, we have classes together, he’s not going to do anything,” he tried weakly, and Will’s eyes narrowed.

“Do you need a distraction while we phone Hopper?” he asked softly under the noise of Steve getting more mugs and batting Dustin away from stress-eating all the marshmallows.

“Dustin could get your bat,” Mike suggested.

“Thanks, man, send Dustin out there,” Dustin sighed loudly.

“Dustin, get more marshmallows out of the garage,” Steve pointed, trying to channel Nancy’s no-nonsense tones. He flipped off the stove, opting for the hot chocolate prep that kept them all in the kitchen for a longer time. “Will, fill these up and microwave them one by one for two and a half minutes. Mike--” he glanced around, “--get spoons and see if there’s still whipped cream in the fridge.”

They slowly moved to obey, watching him closely as he began rifling the cupboard for candy canes. Steve vindictively didn’t point out the spoon drawer to Mike. It was one thing, he thought, expecting his stupidity assessments from Hopper or Nancy, but he was not having it from children that did things like try to raise demodogs in turtle cages.

Billy had settled in Steve's spot on the couch, as always--Steve rolled his eyes--and Steve headed for the other end, before noticing the kids standing in strained poses like awkward chainsaw art. "Ugh," Steve sighed, before dropping next to Billy, whose shoulders hunched around his hot chocolate.

"Okay, Will, you pick," he pointed.

"Pick this, Will," Dustin held up the animated Lord of the Rings.

"Shut up, Dustin," Mike threw a pillow at him, and Will yelped, dodging aside, before grabbing it and swiping Dustin.

Steve grinned. “I found the candy canes,” he told Billy, who turned another disbelieving look on him, as Will smacked Mike with a pillow, and it turned into a free-for-all between the three of them until Dustin crawled under the melee and put on The Hobbit. As soon as it loaded up, he plonked himself down next to Steve. Will sat cautiously next to him, and Mike dropped at the end, the quieter two studying their chocolate as Dustin elbowed Steve.

“Man, I been wanting to watch these without Lucas, he hates Return of the King--”

Mike grimaced over towards Billy at the sound of Lucas’ name. “Well, it is kinda silly. It’s for little kids.”

“It’s for Steve. He has to have the singing in there,” Billy put in, and Dustin leaned around to stare at him.

“You’re another reason I’m glad Lucas ain’t here, man, you a Nazi or what?”

“Neo Nazi,” Mike corrected quietly. “They’re called Neo Nazis, it’s not 1945--”

“Look, it’s Hobbiton,” Steve sighed into his mug.

“Or the Ku Klux Klan,” Will put in, “Like in the South.”

"No," Billy said finally, and after several seconds Dustin laughed.

"No?! No, you just slammed him into a wall? No, you just told Max to stay away from his kind?"

"I didn't say that."

Steve could feel Billy's entire body going tense, and shut his eyes, breathing in the blended chocolate, coffee, and candy cane smells from his mug. Twelve murders worth of stupidity, today, he thought, wondering whether he'd make it to the phone, and whether one of the kids would save him with the bat, and whether any of his Idiocy Tally would hit them, in a permanent sense.

"Why'd you beat him up, then?" Mike asked pointedly. Eleven's boyfriend felt no physical fear, apparently. Reasonable, if Eleven were actually present.

“Okay,” Steve tried to think of what Mrs. Byers would say, “--uh, whatever reasons he had, they weren’t good enough, can we all say ‘aye’ on that one?”

“Aye! ” proclaimed Dustin and Mike in a shout, Will firmly, and, thankfully, Billy, sounding a little rough.

“And unless he does it again, it’s between he, Lucas, and Max?” Steve continued, pushing his luck.

“Aaaaye,” came the sullen chorus from Steve’s right, and a fervent “Aye,” in low tones from Billy.

Steve sat back, wide-eyed, as his heart slowly stopped pounding. An hour later, his head was draped back over the couch as he snored softly, and Mike had quietly left and returned to drop the bat full of nails across the coffee table. Dustin pointed at it, speaking in his louder-than-speech stage whisper.

“That’s Steve’s bat. Look, it’s got blood on it. That’s bully blood.” He grabbed it and pointed it at Billy, who slammed his elbow into Steve.

“Harrington. Harrington. Is that blood on that bat.” Steve tried to roll sideways, growling, but Billy elbowed him in his chest, this time. “Harrington. Did you kill someone.” He glared around. “Did you guys cover up a murder?”

(I think Tumblr ate my posts for chapters 1-3, so I’m reposting them!)

Strangest chapter 1/chapter 2/chapter 3/chapter 4/chapter 5/chapter 6/chapter 7/chapter 8/chapter 9/chapter 10/  But really I’d recommend reading it on Ao3 under peterqpan, scrolling through it on Tumblr sounds crazymaking

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

The Second Incident (Kids, Monsters, D&D and Adults, Part 2.) (Part 27.)

Description: A problematic college student gets the worst summer job of the ‘83 - Jim Hopper, the Chief of police in your hometown will have you as his secretary since his old lady Flo has two months lasting holiday. It was agreed so Hopper could keep you far away from all the trouble.

Part Summary: As October came by again, your traditional family vacation did as well. And just like the last year, the things were about to go downhill. Yet that year, Hopper wanted to make sure you’re completely out of the game.

A/N: So, season 2 is here! We’re getting extremely close to bad Russians of 1985 and I’m getting more and more anxious about this fic.

Word count: 4.2 K

Tagging: @nemodoren @creedslove @missdictatorme (CHECK HER OUT, SHE’S SO LOVELY)

Master list: H E R E

The fourth of July at your parents’ was exquisite - you always had the greatest view from your garden and that year was no exception. The most exciting part was to shoot the fireworks on your own - which was your dad’s and Jim’s job. Eleven was sitting on your brother’s shoulders while you were snuggling to Hopper in the back as you watched the colors on the sky, drinking a beer. And it was the first evening your mother wasn’t looking at you with worries. Jim and your dad made the best burgers waiting for the fireworks to start blasting, you were preparing sweets with your mom, Aiden spent his time with his newfound niece, drawing with her.

You made a pact including you, Jim and partially your mom, who, of course, didn’t have to know everything - you needed to leave Eleven at that household way more often to have some time for kinky fucking. And you definitely felt more than ready to try out new things and to deepen your horizons.

From your thoughts about all of that kinky fucking Eleven woke you up. She was standing in front of you with a drawing, looking you in the eyes.

“For you from me.” - She peeped and you patted Hopper’s ass, sending him off to the garden and you walked with Eleven to the kitchen to have some more burgers. You were hungry as hell - but suddenly, you stopped as you watched that drawing.

It was you, Hopper, her, Aiden and your parents, all holding hands. It was a drawing looking a lot like stickmen, but with some nice details - there was that big red waistband you always wore on your wrist, Aiden had Go-Hawkins-Go! t-shirt and your mom had a big smile on her lips. And on top of that, there was written 'famili’ with a sweet grammar error. This one made you smile.

“Is this for me, baby?” - You whispered, looking at her with actual tears in your eyes. She smiled, nodding at you, stealing yet another cookie from the plate on the counter.

“This masterpiece will hang on my fridge until the day I die, I swear.” - You mumbled happily, kissing her forehead and bringing her for a hug. At that moment, you got why Joyce was showing Will’s rainbow spaceship to everyone who visited Melvald’s. You were extremely proud as you watched the drawing.

You and Joyce got pretty friendly since Hopper proposed to you, honestly. You went to Melvald’s for every small thing or when you just felt the need to talk with her, sometimes even going as far to visit her place to learn to cook something really good for Hopper and Eleven.

Since the Byers disappearance incident, as everyone in Hawkins called the event, you knew that her younger son, Will, had some problems - you knew that every first day in every month, Joyce, Will, and Hopper left somewhere for the whole afternoon, but you never asked about any details. You were sure that Hopper wouldn’t tell you - he was one sly motherfucker, he would find his way to throw you off the rails.

But when you were in their house, Will was always glad to try what you’ve cooked. You talked with that boy a lot, to be honest, and you needed to say… That the boy was pretty cool, telling you all about Dungeons and Dragons campaigns, having these pop-cultural references and he liked some cool music. He was looking weird, yeah, but he sure as hell was cool. And he always said you’re a great cook, so you liked him even more.

You hadn’t got too close to Jonathan, though. Not that you were trying too hard. He wasn’t too much of a social person, so you only greeted each other when you came and never talked until you said goodbye.

“You’re leaving for a vacation? Leaving Hopper all alone here? Are you sure that he won’t starve to death or something like that?” - Joyce smiled, making the mashed potatoes while you checked on the meat put in the oven. That day, you were showing her how to make your famous meatloaf Hopper talked about all the fucking time.

“I do so every year since I was born. Plus, I think Jim can take care of himself for two weeks… Not even that long.” - You rolled your eyes, grinning ironically. - “I noticed that Will has gone to the… Somewhere you’re taking him two times since October had started. Is everything alright?” - You asked and closed the oven once again.

“He’s… Having some episodes. The doctor is saying that it’s because it’s been a year since he disappeared, something like PTSD. I’m just trying to make everything easier for him now.” - Joyce hugged herself, lighting up a cigarette, offering you one as well. You wanted to say that you know what she had on her mind, but she didn’t know about Eleven. And you couldn’t tell her no matter what. And to say that you know how does she feel because you have a child as well… That would be extremely weird.

“It will get better, Joyce. Just… Don’t lose hope. Will’s a smart kid and a fighter.” - You said and hugged her, looking at your watch, sighing dramatically. - “Holy crap, it’s this late? I need to go. The meatloaf only needs ten more minutes and it’s done. Say the boys that I hope it would taste them.”

“You better go.” - Joyce agreed and made sure that she’d at least walk you out of the door.

“I’m going to North Dakota soon, to see my grandma and family and I almost forgot about it. I haven’t even packed yet! Cooking with you always makes me forget stuff. And say hi to Bob from me!” - You giggled and ran to your car, waving at her with your purse.

“Sure. Have a lovely holiday!” - Joyce watched as you slowly left her driveway in your old car.

Cheri Cheri Lady was playing all over the forest as you pulled off in the driveway, turning the engine off. Eleven was peeking at you through one of the curtains while Jim was opening the door for you already. they knew that every time a loud car pulls off in front of the cabin, it’s you. No-one from the lab was that stupid to let the radio playing as loud as you did.

“You once forget your head somewhere, have I told you that?” - He grinned at you, kissing the back of your head as you hugged him, storming inside the cabin.

“My meatloaf is a fricking masterpiece and it needs time and patience. And patience is a virtue.” - You answered a bit ironically, throwing your stuff on the kitchen table, saying hi to Eleven with a tight hug. - “How were you, sweetheart?” - You asked with a small smile, looking her in the eyes. You did exactly as you told her - the drawing was on your fridge and you refused to take it off, having a furious motherly expression on your face when one of them touched it.

The drawing wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon and these two needed to accept that as a matter of fact. You weren’t playing any games.

“Fine. I’ve helped with packing.” - Eleven smiled at Hopper, making you furrow at him. You knew she had packing all of your stuff for the vacation on her mind, but a bit of fun never hurt anyone.

“I’m taken away, Mr. Hopper. You really want me out of the house in no time, huh?” - You mumbled with faked drama, making Eleven giggle. If you had to be honest, it was extremely sweet of them to pack your stuff - Hopper knew that you’d lose the track of time as you always did, making sure that you won’t be panicking and that you would make it on time.

“And we made tuna sandwiches. For you, grandma, grandpa, and uncle.” - Eleven said seriously, taking four small bags out of the fridge. These she loved to make the most, so you just accepted it with grace, learning how to love them.

“I will all of them on my own because I’m sure they’re the best in the entire world.” - You said playfully, making Eleven furrow at you.

“You should go. You have barely twenty minutes to ride to the house even if you ride like a madman.” - Jim said, making you realize that you’re leaving again. For the last time for the next twelve days, you hugged Eleven, kissing her all over her face, making her giggle.

“You need to promise that you won’t let him starve. And to eat also normal food, not just Eggos. Make him clean up the place and you two won’t have any bad blood once I’m gone, is that clear? Or I will make a long psychological sitting at the dinner table and you both know how annoying and uncomfortable these are.” - You pointed your finger at both of them, really kissing the temple of El’s head for the last time before you left the cabin. Hopper, as usual, came out just a second after you.

“You have everything there, alrite? I packed the damn bag with the best intentions.” - Hopper leaned into the top of your car and with that, you exactly knew what did that old douchebag had on his mind.

“You packed me only the lacy underwear you like, didn’t you?” - You mumbled and looked him in the eyes, seeing his face growing into the annoying grin he used to have every time he did some random bullshit like this was.

“Maybe I did.” - Jim laughed into your lips when you stole a big, fat kiss from her.

“Joyce told me it’s getting worse with Will now. Just… Promise me that you’d call me when something fishy would happen and that you keep them safe. And that you keep yourself safe in the first place, okay?” - You hugged him, closing your eyes, thinking about all of the stuff that happened last time you left Hawkins for a vacation.

“Gonna do it, mum. Can you go already? I am a grown man, I can do it on my own.” - Jim hugged you with one hand, but he took a deep breath in and tried to relax as well. He wasn’t sure about the last thing he told you. But he needed to look brave. For real, the Byers boy was making him worried.

“Be safe. And call me.” - You said definitely, stealing one last kiss before basically jumping into the car and stormed off. Just as last year, you drove to Dakota with having Aiden in the car, taking turns after four hours of driving, having a lot of fun on the road.

For the first few days, everything was extremely hectic at Dakota, but you had fun - just as he promised, Jim called you every day around afternoon to tell you how they are doing, everyone was extremely curious about him since now, he was not only your boyfriend but your fiancé as well.

Anyone could prepare themselves for what was about to hit Hawkins that time - and it all started with Eleven and Jim having a huge argument only two days after you’ve been gone from the cabin. Since you and your family weren’t around to make her occupied, the air between them got heavier and heavier. She was pissed about Mike, about Hopper keeping her under a constant lockdown, she was just mad and alone.

So the whole cabin just seemed to explode when the rage got on a level so high that she couldn’t contain it anymore. Eleven manifested her powers since you weren’t around. Normally, when it came to Hopper and her arguing, you were the neutral one, making them sit down and talk about everything - but without you there, oh Lord. Eleven was a protesting teenage girl and Hopper had a bad temper. And the situation got worse and worse - with Hopper not making it on time on the Halloween night.

You could say that some shit went down there when Hopper called you the day after, but you didn’t make too much out of that, because you knew that no matter their natures, they could make it work again. They manage to get through more than three months without you, they could do twelve days, for fuck’s sake.

The red flag came when Hopper hadn’t called you the other day… And the day after that. And the third as well. Only if you knew… Only if you knew what was going on there. There were monsters called Demodogs running around Hawkins, set loose, Hopper had fainted in one of the Mind Flayer’s veins, the rift in the lab needed to be closed as soon as possible and little Will who you liked so much was now controlled by the Mind Flayer.

But you didn’t know that, so naturally, when Hopper hadn’t picked the damn phone up the first three days, you tried to call Joyce. But boy, oh boy, you didn’t know that fucked them up in Hawkins, having the spy inside Will realizing where they were keeping him. When you heard the line ringing, you were excited and when someone picked up, you almost started talking - just to hear some muted voices and breathing before someone put the phone down.

You tried to call the phone again - only to hear as the phone line went dead and unreachable in the next second. You almost panicked, packed all the lacy stuff Hopper had packed you and went to Hawkins to yell his bitch ass down. But then you stopped yourself.

Maybe he got too caught up in a case? Maybe something was going on and Hopper just needed to focus on his damn work for once? Maybe he was off in the cabin with Eleven? That could be true…

But you would kill Hopper first and yell at Eleven seconds if you would know that the girl left the cabin twice actually while Jim wasn’t there - first, she took a fucking hike to Hawkins Middle to see Mike Wheeler with her own damn eyes and then, she went to search for her actual mother, Terry, and a weekend trip to Indianapolis. Your little, fucking fourteen-year-old girl, went to visit Indianapolis on her own while Jim’s ass was locked up in Hawkins Lab. He knew that he would be so dead if you knew.

So that was why he called you back as soon as he got the chance, in the hospital gown with his naked ass showing its glory to everyone in the Lab. It was just about to go down - and he needed to hear your voice before everything turns to shit and before he might… No. He couldn’t tell himself bullshit like that.

“Y/N Y/L/N at the phone, may I help you?” - You asked sweetly, smiling at Aiden who was just calling you a dumb frick because you accidentally did the laundry on a bad temperature, making everything have a bad color - all of his white t-shirts were pink now, thanks to you.

“Hey, baby, it’s me. I know I haven’t called you in the last few days, but I can explain everythin’.” - The known raspy voice told you from the other end of the line and you just grinned, walking into the next room, closing yourself in there.

“James Hopper! Do you even realize how fucking worried I was? Blablabla, I will call you every day, I swear, stop behaving like my mom, blablabla. Bullshit!” - You yelled on the whole room furiously, not giving him space to talk actually.

“Hope you aren’t in Hawkins.” - He said quietly and you could hear other voices in the background. This wasn’t the office mess, as you called it - he was not in the office.

“To your luck, I am still in Dakota. Give me those reasons and maybe, maybe I won’t kick your ass when I get home. But I get to know that something’s wrong with her… God help me, James.” - You hissed when Aiden stuck his damn face into your door and you shoved him back to the hall. That conversation was very private.

“I got too caught up in a case, but I’m fine now. Will is havin’ worse and worse PTSD episodes, so that was why I was off the phone too. And she… She’s doin’ fine, okay? We’re fine. Don’t be worried and stay in Dakota.” - Jim said tiredly and you exhaled out loud. Just as always, you overreacted. They were doing good without you and they were alive and well… Only if you’d know the truth.

“I’m sorry. I just jumped to conclusions too fast. Are you sure that you’re fine?” - You whispered, being relieved. Jim hummed into the phone. This was the last shot to tell you, after all.

“I’ve missed you here, you know? And I love you.” - Jim told you with his eyes shut closed. You closed your eyes as well, nodding even if he couldn’t see you.

“I know that, douchebag. And I love you too. I can’t wait to be back home.” - You said honestly, looking at the calendar on the wall. Only two more days to go and you would be home with them again.

“Need to go now. Keep your goddamn ass safe.” - He said silently and you laughed, telling him something nasty as well before hanging the phone.

In the end, everything played out - the Mind Flayer seemed to be gone, the gate was closed, everyone was alive - and Bob Newby, the superhero, was maybe gone, but not forgotten at all. Everything went seemingly back to normal before the due of your arrival came.

Now, Jim needed to accept the fact that Mike Wheeler and the whole child gang knew that Eleven was alive the whole time and that he couldn’t tear them apart anymore. He didn’t wish her to be locked at the cabin the whole time - but at the same time, the thoughts about Brenner were on the back of his head the whole time.

Just the evening before you were supposed to come, Hopper made every member of the child gang come to the cabin. He sucked with boys at Mike’s age, but there were safety steps that needed to be taken to keep you safe. That was how he interpreted it to them once they were done with fixing the cabin up. He told them that when you were around, Eleven hadn’t got any superpowers, there weren’t and Mind Flayers, Demogorgons, and Demodogs, there was no Upside Down, there was nothing.

He sure did know that he will need to make up some other silver lining for you, but the kids seemed to respond pretty good - and they were all thrilled that every once in a while, Hopper was agreeing with them seeing El at the cabin. Well, if you’d agree with that. And, naturally, there was the whole Snow Ball thing.

When you pulled off at the driveway, you could immediately tell that something had changed about the cabin. First things first, there was no tripwire around the estate. It looked almost polished - and the curtains weren’t drawn. In fact, you could see what’s going on inside.

And even more surprised you were, when you found out that the door was unlocked - and that even if Hopper was at work, Eleven wasn’t home alone at all. In fact, you could count six children sitting around the living room, learning some English with her.

“Oh my God.” - You whispered only once you saw them, immediately thinking about Hopper just being set off if he gets to know. But the kids only looked at you and as Eleven went for a hug, you were terrified of a boy who had a baseball cap on his curls.

“Eleven, baby, I’m really glad that you have friends, but Jim is going to flip out.” - You mumbled into the temple of her head when you hugged her back, watching the rest of the gang just… Existing in your cabin.

“He knows. I asked him and he told yes.” - Eleven told you a smile, taking another tuna sandwich out of the fridge, giving it to you. - “You have to be hungry. I made.” - She smiled and went back to sit next to the Wheeler boy again. Will was sitting in your damn couch next to a girl and the Sinclair boy as you were freaking out, sitting at the table, eating the sandwich.

“Yeah, sure, he will murder us both.” - You mumbled and stood up to catch the attention of the kids. - “Are you guys hungry? I was thinking about making some pancakes, how does that sound?” - You offered a tight voice and most of them were hesitant, but WIll smiled at them.

“Y/N is the best cook. I swear.” - He got up, putting the book down. - “Do you need any help?” - He smiled, pulling his sleeves up. Well, damn you, this was a nightmare and you didn’t want to wake up.

And like that, you made pancakes for the whole party, even pulling off some of Hopper’s triple extravaganza style with Hershey’s kisses and jellybeans. And when Hopper made it home, damn, wasn’t that a funny situation? You were staring at him, getting ready for his temper just going off and he was looking at every move you made, gulping, preparing himself for a long-ass class about being secretive and how having six teenagers isn’t fucking secretive at all.

“Um… Can we for a… Will you guys mind…?” - You spoke nervously to the kids and each of them just nodded smiling at you. You dragged Hopper out and made sure the door and the window is closed before you freaked out. - “Jim, I am sorry, but these kids somehow appeared at our cabin and I didn’t have the heart to tell them to frick off. Just don’t yell, please.”

“I don’t want to yell at you at all. I knew they planned to study here today, I just totally forgot to tell you.” - Jim answered, being as freaked out as you. You motioned on the cabin, raising your eyebrows.

“So you knew about them, okay. Okay? I just need to get my head together, Jesus. So, Eleven isn’t a secret anymore? She’s allowed to have friends now? I just want to know where we’re at these days because it fucking freaked me out to see not one kid, but six of them in my living room.” - You mumbled, leaning your back into the wall behind your back. - “Also, is it me, or does the cabin look… Different? Did you finally repaired the door?”

“More or less. She still can’t go to Hawkins, but… I couldn’t just look at her bein’ all alone in here. We have a lot to talk about, I know, I know, just… Be cool for now, yeah?” - Jim took your shoulder to his palm and held you for a long time, finally realizing you’re back there, with him, alive and well. You smiled and leaned into his touch, feeling safe as well.

“Hey, I’ve missed you there, have I told you that?” - You asked quietly, making sure that the kids can’t see you before you leaned to steal a kiss.

“Hold your damn horses, that’s my catchphrase, miss. But yeah, I know.” - Jim answered your typical answer and you laughed, listening to his heartbeat. So… Your baby wasn’t a secret anymore. She was allowed to see her friends, which was about to put you through the hell and back, especially before you knew that Steve Harrington had broken up with Nancy and he is their babysitter basically, but at that moment, you felt good.

“Also, these kids loved my damn pancakes, so I think I’m good with them.” - You giggled with less panic in your voice.

“And… I need to talk to you about somethin’.” - Hopper mumbled and that caught your attention again, so you rose your chin to look at him. - “We need to get El dress for Snow Ball and I don’t know how the hell are we gonna do that.”

[unfortunate-stranger-losers]

Right-Side Up AU, Part Three: It’s the End of the World {AO3} {tumblr} {Part One} {Part Two}

Chapter Three → The Incident at the Pool

Dustin and Will returned very late, and Max noticed that though they were trying to say something, they weren’t able to get a word in edgewise over an exhausted-looking Nancy and annoyed-looking Steve lecturing them on splitting up from the others. Finally, Will said something to Dustin about “waiting for him before they talk to Mike”, which piqued her interest quite a bit, but as the drive home was filled with her and El laughing about a package they found in the car that held the ugliest t-shirt they’d ever seen, and Hopper proceeding to (fondly) yell at them about it, and that night she fell asleep quickly, she’d forgotten about the conversation by morning. 

“Okay, so,” Max said, bouncing onto the edge of El’s bed, while her foster sister pulled her hair back into a small ponytail, “I was thinking we go up to the radio, just the two of thus. Catch up with the boys later.” 

El hesitated. “I promised Mike that I’d see him first thing.” 

“Yeah, just call and tell him I wanted to show you something. Then after the radio, I was hoping we could hit the arcade. We haven’t been in forever.” 

El sighed. “Max, I’m sorry, but I don’t want to worry Mike.” 

“You’ve seen him every day for six months on end, El, it won’t kill him if you only see him in the afternoon. You can even pick the place for lunch. Ooh! I know! Let’s go to the mall and get ice cream for lunch and bother the shit out of Steve!” 

“Max, I promised. We don’t break promises.” 

‘You promise every day.” 

“Maybe tomorrow? I can ask Mike-” 

“What is he, your owner?” 

El glared at her. “He happens to be my boyfriend who I don’t want to scare the shit out of.” 

“And I happen to be your best friend and sister.” 

Something about Max’s snap, the glare in her eyes as she spoke, awakened a memory in El, one that made her pause. 

I’m here. I’m here and you left me behind. 

Shit. 

El shut her eyes, blinking back tears, and she turned around and gave a surprised Max a hug. “I’m sorry.” she said. “I’m sorry, it’s just… I thought he was dead. I…” She pulled away. “Look. Maybe we can go to the arcade tomorrow. Let’s just go to the Byers’ right now. See what happens.” 

Max bit her lip. “I… I’ll just go by myself. Maybe stop by the pool. You guys have fun.” 

“What? No-” 

“I’m fine. I’m fourteen, and killed the devil twice.” Max shrugged. “I’ll take the skateboard. Have fun.” 

“But-” 

Max stood up and left, refusing to look back. 

“Hey, Mike, do you know a lot of Russian?” Dustin asked. 

Mike glanced up from the sofa, where he was threading together a bracelet for El. “What?” 

Dustin leaned over conspiratorially. “Russian. You speak?” 

Mike gave the boys a quick glance; Lucas was sitting by the window with a book Nancy had lent him, while Will sat on his other side, bouncing and holding something in his hands. 

“No.” 

Dustin’s face flickered. “What?” 

“I mean, I know a bit. But not enough to speak. Just enough to… transmit.” he scrunched up his face. “Why?” 

“Um-” 

The door opened, and El ran in, her bag slinging over her shoulder. “Sorry we’re late! Dad had to make sure that Max had all her stuff packed up and could reach him if-” 

Will paused, sliding something into his pocket. “She’s not here?” 

“She, um, wanted to go to the arcade today.” El said. “If you boys wanna go, I mean…”

“I’d like to go to the Arcade. It’s fun.” Lucas said. 

“Actually, Will and I-” Dustin began. 

“I, um… do you know where… where Nancy’s family will be?” Mike asked. 

El’s face fell. “Mike, really, you should probably talk to them.” 

“No, I’ll… I’ll stay here.” Mike said. He scooted back. “I wanted to show you this thing Jonathan taught me- look!” He held up the almost-finished bracelet. “This is for you! I was thinking we could make these today, it’s super calming!” 

El’s eyes lit up. “That does look like fun-” 

“I think I wanna go see Steve.” Dustin said suddenly, shooting Will a significant look. “Will, you wanna come?” 

Will squirmed uncomfortably. “I can’t go out without a chaperone.” 

“I’m your chaperone.” Dustin said. “I’m allowed out in public, remember? I’m Steve’s baby cousin.” 

El glanced back at the door, and then to the boys. “Feel like it’s a bad idea to split up.” 

“We’ll be fine.” Dustin assured her. “Besides, if Lucas is leaving, we wanna go, too.” 

“Lucas is-” El glanced back, to see that Lucas had already shoved his book into his bag and was getting his shoes on. “Oh. I mean…” She looked to Mike, who was back to his bracelet, his brow furrowed in concentration. “I mean…” she sighed. “Guess we’re… all splitting up today. Okay. Cool. Not worrying at all.” 

Joyce looked up as the bell rang, signalling someone had come into the store. She and Hopper were chatting over the counter again while she rung up his recent purchase- just some sparklers for the girls on Independence Day for now. She smiled and waved as Nancy came in, though her smile dropped when she saw Nancy’s serious expression. 

“What’s going on?” she asked. 

“Hey, my bosses think I’m at the doctor’s for ‘girl problems.’” Nancy said, and then she turned to Hopper. “I was hoping you’d be here, I need your help.” 

Hopper and Joyce both stiffened. “What happened?” Hopper asked. 

Nancy paused. “Do you know Ms Driscoll? She called the paper, said there were… there was weird shit going on with the rats in her basement. They’re eating her fertilizer.”

“What?” 

“Eating fertilizer, and Jonathan and I already went, and the rat there is… it’s acting really weird, I think you need to see it.”

“Do you think it’s connected to…?” Hopper asked. 

Nancy paused. “I don’t know. I was hoping the paper would do something but they won’t.” she sighed. “I’m just Nancy Drew to them, except people actually listen to her. I’d do more, but…” she shut her eyes. “Much as I hate to admit it, I need this shitty job.” 

“Honey, if you want to quit-” Joyce said. 

“I’m not letting you handle everything by yourself, Ms Byers.” Nancy said, smiling and putting a hand over the woman’s. “But I… I need you to check it over for me, if you…” her voice trailed off, and she looked down at the floor. “Ms Byers, are those magnets broken?” 

“What?” Joyce followed her gaze, looking at the ground, where some magnets had fallen from the side of the desk. “Oh. I don’t know. Maybe? Do magnets break?” 

Nancy paused, moving over and trying to put the magnet back. It slid to the ground. “One of Holly’s drawings did the same thing…” she muttered. Then she shook her head and turned back. “Nevermind. Can you at least check it out?”

Hopper nodded. “We’ll make sure it’s… nothing to worry about.” 

“Thank you.” Nancy smiled, and then she glanced at the magnets again. “I… I need to get back.” She narrowed her eyes, though, and then said, “Hop, what’s El’s science teacher’s name again?”

“Max! Hey, Max!” 

Max stopped her skateboard a moment, kicking it up and looking behind  her, surprised to see Lucas running towards her, waving brightly. 

“Um, hey?” she said. 

“Hi!” Lucas skidded to a stop next to her. “El said you were going to the arcade, I thought we could both go!” 

Max brightened slightly. “Just the two of us?” 

“I wanted the others to come, but-” 

“But they were busy.” Max guessed. “Yeah. Well, I’m going past the pool first. Wanna see how busy it is- if it’s not too bad, maybe we can stop by later. I haven’t been swimming in so long, but I cannot do crowds.” 

Lucas nodded seriously. “Crowds are loud.” 

“And rude.” Max groaned. She smiled, though, as Lucas walked beside her. “Why do you wanna come?” 

“Arcade’s fun. And it’s…” Lucas paused. “It’s nice focusing on a game. It’s very…” 

Max nodded, understanding. “Distracting.” 

Lucas bit his lip. “Yeah. You’re not thinking about… stuff that happened. You’re thinking about-” 

“Saving Princess Daphne.” Max said. “Getting away from the ghosts.” 

“Getting highest-score.” 

“Highscore, Lucas. And you’re not getting the highscore, it’s always gonna be me.” 

“Hmm. We’ll see.” 

“Is that a challenge?” 

“It could be!” 

“Oh, it’s on, stalker!” 

Lucas frowned. “Are you ever gonna let that go?” 

“Never. I’m never gonna let that go.” 

They passed by the pool, glancing through the chain link fence, and Max stopped, looking in. “Shit.” she said. “Crowded again.” 

“Everything seems crowded to me.” Lucas admitted, curiously watching children splash each other, while adults chatted in chairs beside the water. 

Max bit her lip. Sometimes, in how wild they’d been the last few months, it was easy to forget that this truly was Lucas’s first summer of freedom. It was weird; he acted so… well, not normal, but maybe as normal as she and El had been, before all this shit went down. He didn’t know a lot of things, true, but he went out into town with her and El and Dustin, and talked nonstop about a TV show or book he’d recently fallen in love with, and… sometimes she forgot what life had been like for him. She wondered how easy it was for other people to forget what had happened to her, the last two years. Hopefully it was easier for them than it was for her. 

“Do you wanna try going in later?” Max asked. “You haven’t been to the pool before, have you?” 

Lucas shook his head. “I don’t know if I have a swimsuit.” 

“We can find one at the mall, I’m sure. I have some allowance left over from…” she trailed off, looking towards a table in the corner. Several lifeguards were chatting under the shade of a small umbrella, but one, in the corner- who was silently staring in their direction, or maybe into nothingness- seemed… eerily familiar. It was hard to tell from this distance… 

“Max?” 

Max jumped. “Sorry, it’s just… that almost looks like… no, no, he left town.” 

“Who?” Lucas tensed up. “Bad man?” 

“Not… not one of your people.” Max said quickly. “Just…” 

The lifeguard stood, and started walking over. Max found herself completely frozen in place. 

Don’t freak out, Max. You’ve beaten monsters from another dimension. He shouldn’t scare you… it can’t be him. It can’t be… 

But as he got closer, Max saw that he was. 

“Max?” Lucas said again, this time a little frightened. Max could barely glance at him before turning back to the lifeguard, who slowly managed to reach the fence. 

Then carefully, blankly, she said, “Billy.” 

Her stepbrother looked down her, and just as blankly, said, “Max.” 

Lucas tensed. She hadn’t exactly talked to him about Billy much but… he knew enough that he wasn’t a nice man. Max and Billy stared for a moment, and then Max said, “I thought you left town.” 

“Well, my bitch of a Dad still owns the house, and I need a place to crash.” Billy said. “So I’m back for the time being. I see you’re not dead.” 

Max felt a pang. She forgot that he’d thought she was dead. Everyone did. “I… happy to see me?” She really wished there wasn’t that tinge in her voice, that tinge of hope. Did you miss me, Billy? Big brother? 

“Not especially.” he said, without a hint of lying. 

Max felt another pang. “Mom and Neil left to look for you.” 

“Did they tell you that?” Billy scoffed, eyebrow raising. “They ditched you, Max.” 

She suddenly felt cold. Mom wouldn’t… “No.” 

“They didn’t want to deal with a stubborn little bitch who runs away and makes everyone think she’s dead.” 

“No.” 

“They dumped you on the first guy who would take you and left. How does it feel?” 

Lucas reached over and grabbed Max’s hand. “Stop it.” he said. “Stop it, her parents love her, and Hopper and El-” 

“Lucas.” Max shook her head wildly, trying to shush him. 

Billy raised an eyebrow. “Well, well. Who’s this?” 

“Billy.” 

“What are you doing hanging around with this-” 

Max threw her hand in front of Lucas, pushing him back slightly, causing the boy to jump with surprise. “Don’t you dare.” 

Billy leaned over, putting his hand on the chain link fence, and then said in a very quiet voice, “And what do you think you can do to stop me?” 

Max shivered. “Hopper-” 

“Oh, yeah, your… what is he? ‘Temporary Guardian’? You think that makes you safe? The second your bitch of a mother, or Neil, or your crackhead Dad wants you back, they get you back. And you won’t be able to do shit about it.” 

“Stop it.” 

“You know what, Maxine?” Billy said. “I bet if you bother me too much, I could get custody.” 

“Stop it! Shut up!” 

“Leave her alone!” Lucas shouted, and he grabbed Max’s arm to drag her away with one hand, instinctively throwing out his other palm. As he did, a bright flash of light burst forth, flickering out of existence after only a moment. However, the second the light emerged, Billy stumbled back as if he had been struck. He let out a startled snarl and threw his arms over his face, backing into the shadow a nearby shed offered. 

Max jumped. “Billy! Billy, are you okay?” 

He retreated more into the shade, and Max felt something dark- the same thing she’d felt in the movie theater, the same creeping feeling inside. “Billy, what’s wrong?” 

Suddenly, he ran forwards, as if to charge through the fence. Max retreated, dragging Lucas with her, but Billy stopped just by the chain link. He froze, before banging on the chain. Max tried to look over his shoulder towards the pool, but nobody seemed to notice. Nobody was coming to help. 

“Stay away from me, Maxine.” he growled. “And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay away from him.” he gave Lucas a glare, and Lucas just glared defiantly back. 

Max opened her mouth to retort, to say something, anything, but instead, she just shut her eyes, spun away, and ran.

[planetsam]

Just wanted to say I love love love your writing. It's excellent! I have a prompt if you dont mind? basically its a few weeks after the snowball and elle still has super bad seperation anxiety from mike. In a typical teenage boy fashion he disappears for a week and totally forgets to tell her what he's doing. There's no phones to call her. He's camping for a school trip. Elle FREAKS. when hes finally back she doesnt know whether to cry in relief or kill him

The second the bus pulls up, he realizes his mistake.

His mother is there beaming, thrilled at his first camping trip but his eyes go past her to the tree line. He knows what he saw. He realizes exactly what he did wrong. Now as she fawns over him, he just wants to drop his bag and go apologize. Profusely. Preferably before the chief of police shows up to remind him that that is his daughter and Mike has a reputation as a troublemaker now. Also that he hit him. Jim Hopper is sore about that when he needs to be.

“So, Mikey—“

“I gotta go over to Will’s house,” he blurts out, “I’ll see you at home.”

Despite the fact that Will and Mrs. Byers have just gotten to the car, he runs after them. They both look at him and it shows on his face because Will snorts and Mrs. Byers looks torn between sympathy and exasperation for him. He just feels lower than dirt. He talks to her every night, he mentioned this months ago, they’re still hammering out how far she can reach—in the end he knows he should have said something. Mrs. Byers waves at his mom and jerks her head, he dives into the car.

“She’s over there,” he says motioning to the trees.

“I’ll double back,” Mrs. Byers says.

When she does he dives out of the car, taking off through them. It’s supposed to be a year, a year and then she can come to school properly. Be seen properly. But until that year is up there are rules, rules they have both agreed to. Rule that he’s making her break a lot of because he was an idiot. He runs as fast as he can and skids to a stop when he sees her standing there. She’s looking out at the bus but he’s not fooled for a second. And not just because he’s given zero thought to stealth in this. Nope, he knows for sure when she gives him a look reserved for Mouth Breathers and turns on her heel.

“El, wait!” he pleads and heads for her, “I forgot,” there’s a press of invisible wall, “come on El, I’m sorry,” he begs and the wall vanishes as she continues to walk, “I didn’t know it wasn’t going to work. I—“ he sighs, “I should have told you.”

“You. Promised,” she says whirling suddenly and jamming a finger into his chest, “you promised every night. And it’s been six hundred and four thousand eight hundred seconds. I thought you were hurt.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats as she rips her finger away from his chest, spinning on her heel and walking away. He jogs after her, “I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

“Worry,” she repeats and then scoffs.

El’s gotten better with speaking, a lot better. But when she’s upset or mad she retreats back into the single words. Fewer words means less chance of getting punished. That’s still how she functions sometimes. Most of the time. Around him and the guys, she does it too when she’s really comfortable. Though Hopper’s been after them to try and make her talk more. Help her get more comfortable that way.

“Yes, worry,” he says, “you were worried about me, that’s why you’re upset.”

“Not upset,” she says with a glare, “angry.”

“You use your powers when you’re angry,” he says, promptly sticking his foot in his mouth. The look she gives him is pure venom, “I mean i know you’re not supposed to but you broke the board the last time we played checkers.”

“I can be angry and not use my powers,” she mutters, folding her arms over her chest.

“I don’t mind when you use them,” he assures her quickly, “I think they’re awesome.”

She looks down and then looks back up at him.

“You cheated,” she accuses and he shakes his head.

“No, I forgot to explain a rule. That’s not the same thing.”

He’s way out of his league on this, somewhere in the back of his head he knows it. Max and Lucas have already broken up, Will says that Steve and Nancy will probably get back together if Steve doesn’t start going out with the new girl. He hears the adults around them say this is puppy love. That they’re still ‘just kids’. And yeah, they are. That’s the excuse everyone used when he was acting out last year anyway. But if he wants to be with her, he knows he has to step it up. And he knows he can. It’s just going to take more from him. But it’s worth it, he knows that too. Knows that above anything else. He watches her shift her weight, chewing on her lip and then looking at him.

“I’m scared,” she says finally, “of school.”

He frowns.

“Why?” he asks.

“Mouth Breather—“ she stops, “I’m scared of bullies. Bullies and math.”

“Me too,” he says, “but you knew how many seconds were in a week. You’re good at math,” he explains, “plus you’ve got your dad, no-one wants to be in trouble with him.”

“You hit him,” she reminds him and he feels his face go hot.

“I was upset,” he says, “but we shouldn’t hit people when we’re upset. Plus you hit a lot harder than I do.”

“He said you could hit well,” El confides in him and Mike grins, “but what if I do bad things?”

“You’re a teenager. If you didn’t mess up you wouldn’t be. Lucas gets grounded every other week,” he says.

“What’s grounded?”

“Uh, it’s like what you’re doing right now. But it’s usually because you messed up—which you didn’t do. I did.”

A firm hand claps on his shoulder and suddenly he wishes for her to use her powers on him again. El squeaks and he doesn’t need to turn around to know exactly whose behind him. He might as well just offer to kill himself with the man’s hat at this rate.

“Glad to hear you say that,” Jim Hopper rumbles, “especially after the week I’ve had of listening to someone whose not supposed to be outside talk about running after you.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats emphatically, “I messed up.”

Hopper looks at him like he’s the one with abilities. Like he can see into his soul. Lucas called it ‘dad powers’ and even though is father’s not exactly what you’d call intimidating, there’s a reason Nancy does her best not to bring any boys around. A small hand threads through his and gives his fingers a tight squeeze.

“I messed up too,” El says, “we messed up together.”

“God dammit,” Hopper pinches his nose. The three of them are silent and looking at each other for a moment, “home,” he says pointing. El tightens her fingers on Mike, “go home,” Hopper repeats.

“What are you going to do, ground me?” El demands and Hopper stares before looking at Mike.

“Don’t tempt me,” he says and then sighs, “okay, stay. Listen to this,” he turns back to Mike, “I was a teenage boy once. I know what teenage boys are like. Are you like that?”

“N-no,” Mike sputters out before he squares his shoulders, “but I acted like one today. It won’t happen again. Sir.”

Hopper glares at him, then he looks at El. El’s fingers tighten on his, her thumb rubbing his knuckle.

“You forgive him?” she nods.

“Yes,” she corrects.

He looks at Mike.

“Next time you mess up, you gonna be here with a damn good apology?” Mike nods instantly, silently vowing that there won’t be a next time. Hopper looks down at their clenched hands and sighs, “as you were,” he says, motioning them back.

El drags him away from her adopted father and Mike hurries to keep up. He can practically feel Hopper watching them. It’s not nearly as nice a sensation as when El does it. Only when they’re a good distance away does her hand turn from tight to gentle, though it remains very firmly wound around his. It would be like they were any other couple in school if they weren’t so deep in the woods. But he knows instinctively that this is a privilege and that being like anyone else is vastly overrated. They go back to the cabin El’s called home for the past year and a half. It still floors him that she’s so close, that she’s been so close the entire time.

“Mike?” he realizes that his fingers have tightened on hers and forces his hand to relax, smiles at her, “are you okay?” she asks and he nods.

“Yeah, I’m just glad you’re here now,” he says, “and I’m excited to have you be at school with us.”

She dips her head and looks oddly shy for a moment. Then she takes a step forward, presses her hands to his shoulders, stands on her toes and kisses him. It’s the first time she’s started it, the first time she’s been the one to kiss him. He’s stunned and it takes him a moment to kiss back. El kisses with her whole heart like she doesn’t know any other way to do it. His hands shyly find her waist as he ducks his head to accommodate their growing height difference. Before meeting her he would have said kissing was gross. Now he’s not sure he ever wants to stop kissing her. When she pulls back, El beams up at him, looking thrilled with herself. It’s the kind of smile you can’t help but return.

“I’m excited too,” she announces and he can only nod, “see you Monday.”

[themikewheelers]

HOPPER AND EL omg fuck me up HONESTLY love them so freaking much... Let's talk about the fact that Hopper leaves Eggos in the box? Keeps boxes for her in the fridge? Ruffles her hair and she does that cute little smile that shows that she loves him too? Tries to make the cabin as much as a home for her as possible by sweeping it up with her talking to her gently and introducing her to music? He looks at her so adoringly it's so clear that he loves her like a daughter, opens up to her about Sarah

(Continued) Also like Hop supports her relationship with Mike so freaking much (I will fight someone on this point) he offers to check on him for her and expresses sympathy that she misses him and defends her when he thinks Mike is going to blame her for her disappearance to keep them safe also the Eggo extravaganza and how he knows about the value of the word Promise to her (C-O-M-promise) and he calls her "El" her nickname and JUST THE FACT THAT HE TAKES FULL RESPONSIBILITY FOR THEIR FIGHT. omg sorry cont. because I am a spaz BUT YEAH HE TOTALLY DOESN'T BLAME EL AT ALL FOR RUNNING AWAY AND HE FEELS BAD ABOUT KEEPING INFO ABOUT HER MOM FROM HER WHICH HE DID TO PROTECT HER BECAUSE SHE HAD A HARD ENOUGH LIFE AND SHE DIDNT NEED MORE DISAPPOINTMENT!!! El wears Hop's flannel shirts!! And he makes French Toast! Their family mantra is "they're not stupid" He shows her the tripwire! He makes a home for her in the cabin! He knows about how El wants to go to the Snowball and drops her off! Also their hug after she closes the gate! So sweet! I love Mike and El but El needed family love and she needed a positive adult figure in her life to love and support her and she got it! She missed Hop when she was in Chicago which was so sweet she saw him in the Void and honestly I could go on and on but imma stop right here in conclusion I love El and Hop and I want more if their familial cuteness in season 3!! I need it!!-----------I'm CRYING like you kinda said it all here and I don't rlly know what to add but oh my goodness!!! Their little family is gonna be the end of my Im so beyond emotional bc I love them so much!!! I love how as soon as El went missing Hopper immediately started looking for her and leaving food for her to keep her safe, and at this point they had barely met and they were as far from father and daughter as possible. But then one day he found her in the woods and he took her to the cabin and just right from the beginning you can see him taking on the role of a dad. He didn't know he was actually adopting this girl, but he still knew the responsibility he was taking on and he never hesitated. He immediately wants to make a safe and happy home for her and they're cleaning up together, and just in that first day you can see him acting like a complete dad and teaching her things (The broom, the tripwire, etc.) and he can tell she's scared and stressed and overwhelmed so he starts playing music to lighten things up and to try and cheer her up (and he's got his dad dance ready). And he's treating her like a daughter and reading her stories before bed, from the same book he read to Sara right before she died. And we don't know much about what happened between the two of them over the course of the year, but we know they got incredibly close and El opened up to him so much. He knows all the little stuff, like her love for Eggos and all that (and even makes his own Eggo creation to cheer her up when she's upset) but he knows the bigger stuff too, like how much she misses her friends and how she's been visiting Mike in the Void, and about how important promises are to her (and how she's upset that she's broken some of them to Mike). I'm positive Hopper knows more about what happened to her at the lab than anyone else. And like you said, I love Mileven and her relationship with Mike is so good and pure and happy, but I really love that El has someone else in her corner besides just Mike and the other boys. She needed a parent, she needed a DAD, especially after how awful her last father figure was to her. And then Hopper became a dad for her, and let's be real, she's probably much closer with him than she is with the other boys, because she's spent so much more time with him. She spent roughly 10 months with no one but Hopper, and I know she must've opened up to him a lot and like I said before, he probably knows more about her past than she's ever told anyone else (Keep in mind, even the boys know very very little. Everything they do know has come from assumptions really, El never had an opportunity to actually tell them and open up). And he's so supportive of her relationship with Mike and I think the reason stuff about him being overprotective bothers me so much is because that's not Hop at all bc Hop KNOWS how much El's freedom has been stripped from her in her life, and he's not about to do the same. He'll do what he has to do to keep her safe, but other than that he is not strict because he gives El so much freedom to do whatever makes her happy. He's so beyond supportive of her and Mike and not once does he hesitate because he sees how important they are to one another and he knows how badly they both were taking being separated. Hop wants more than anything for El to be happy and safe, and he knows she's safe with Mike and she's absolutely happy with him. But he's not a perfect dad!!!! And he knows this and owns up for his mistakes and he wants to be better for her!!!! He comes home late, and sometimes forgets his promises, and they fight!!!! But he's trying his best and he owns up for his mistakes and tries to make up for them!!! And he's so freaking protective of her. All he ever wants to do is make sure she's safe. And their fight all stems from his frustration with keeping her safe cause he knows how hard it is on her even if it's what's best for her!!! He didn't tell her about Terry because he didn't want her to be hurt by the truth, but then when she finds out anyway, he apologizes for not telling her before. When he thinks Mike is gonna blame her for not reaching out to him, Hop is immediately pulling Mike aside and telling him not to blame El and that it wasn't her fault and wasn't what she wanted (But of course we also know there was no chance in hell Mike was gonna blame El for that). And god just the way they've become so affectionate, with the hugs and hand holding and all that. We know El has trouble trusting people, and she's hesitant with physical affection, but she's so comfortable around Hop and he really has become her dad and he's always comforting her and protecting her. And just what I love so much about their dynamic is that it didn't happen overnight. Neither of them really realized what was happening when Hop took her in, but then time passed and they both grew to love each other and need each other so much, they really became family. God I could go on FOREVER about every little thing I love about their dynamic but I'm just!!! I love them and their little family so much!!!