#hopper going through his own stuff about sara

[howtobecomeadragon]

just thought about father's day for everyone in stranger things and nearly keeled over in pain

#stranger things #except for lucas #charles sinclair we all love you and appreciate you #el has hopper but there's still going to be complicated feelings about brenner #it's all too much #lonnie #brenner #dustin's mysterious father figure #hopper going through his own stuff about sara #max and her dad in california #ted #ooooof #byler

[kaypeace21]

do you think it’s possible sarah (hoppers daughter) was an early-formed alter that went dormant before the events of season one? it’d make a lot of sense with how much of hoppers arc in season one was him mourning her and channeling that grief into protecting will (which would make sense since he seems like a protecter to both will and el). love your posts!☺️

Yep . :D

I already discussed all of this in the original did post - how sarah was a “little” (kid ) alter. And how hopper was a protector /introject alter. I also discussed her going dormant as a major possibility in my did theory. My assumption is she either (a) “became dormant” like some alters do- aka they are “gone” sometimes for many years but can return . And this can happen in a myriad of ways - sometimes alters go dormant after they had a simulated death in the inner world . theoretically sarah had such a Death. And so did El. Death isn’t really a permanent thing for alters ...they usually will come back or stay dormant - unless the body of the host dies (or they integrate) . They can’t really die . I think it’s very possible she comes back and Hopper while exploring the various innerworlds of Will’s minds (like the Russian one, the memory scapes , etc ) reunites/ finds her . look at the st s4 movie inspirations. In ‘what dreams may come”  a guy with the guidance of his dead kid explore a heaven like world influenced by a painter’s emotions.We also have the movie ‘inside out’ -which involves “memory islands” (distinct worlds based on a child’s memories) which are influenced negatively by the kid being depressed she moved to California. The characters traveling to these memory islands are constructs of  kid’s mind -and 1 of them also has a guide helping them explore the ‘memory islands’. in  Inception a guy says he’s a construct of a guy’s mind and needs to help him escape the many different Ievels of the dream worlds.The in inception who made the worlds- had dad issues. 'the cell’also had alternate dimensions of a man's mind that a cop explored ( the dimensions were created by a man who was ab*sed by his dad). Movies like inception, matrix, Truman show, total recall, the cell, enter the void, wizard of oz, Peter Pan, hellraiser 2, dream warriors, bill & ted’s bogus journey, and welcome to marwen  also allude to this: because they involve entering simulated abstract worlds usually created/based on happy& traumatic memories/fears.Cough s4 using the movie wizard of oz quote “we’re not in Hawkins (kansas) anymore.While truman show/matrix are more about realizing your reality isn’t real.in bladerunner 2044/total recall it has the theme of false implanted memories… probably relating to hopper realizing he’s an alter and not in “actual Russia.” Before seeing the other segments of the innerworlds with sarah. Like in total recall- the bad ass spy is told all his memories: his wife/ years of marriage,  , his name, are just implanted memories. And she says “you’re life is a dream.” 

In s2 Nancy asks Steve how his “grandpa’s time in the war is a metaphor for your life?” And steve compares the mf to the germans in the war. Dr owens mentions Will has ptsd like “ (vietnam) soldiers’, Hopper saying he had buddies like Will . “In the 70s there was a study that compared the post-traumatic stress symptoms in Vietnam veterans and adult survivors of childhood s**ual ab*se. The study revealed that childhood s**ual ab*se is traumatizing and can result in symptoms comparable to symptoms from war-related trauma.” Hopper isn’t actually in Russia -but in one of the innerworlds (after he jumped through the rift of the machine- into Will’s mind). We’ll see flashbacks but also present circumstances of his imprisonment echo Will’s past with Lonnie (if the movies indicate anything)- being starved, guards getting payed in order to let other prisoners  r*pe a gay prisoner (than claim incorrectly because of his sexuality he wanted it) , as well as a gang of sadist men who r**e others and a warden using that as a threat to be compliant , being thrown in a dark room of solitary confinement and starved when they didn’t obey the warden, the warden being religious, etc. And the Anerican soldiers (in Vietnam) in the movies aren’t much better and do similarly horrific acts to civilians like r**e and bragging/ happily k*lling women, children, and the elderly. The drill sergant in vietnam calling them homophobic slurs & women, and chocking one of the soldiers with one hand, slapping one for not believing in christianity. Tying up a soldier in a bed , gagging him, beating him and saying “remember it’s just a dream.” Only praising them when good in fire arms.(movies : fullmetal jacket, papillon, shawshank redemption, platoon, welcome to marwen, etc ) . My assumption is  flashbacks of his life- will hint he’s an alter of Will’s-the boxes in the basement are “vietnam” ,“dad”, and “ny” (and these are the memories of his we’ll see). And some of the bad characters in said stories will also parallel Lonnie . For instance in s2, Jonathan mentions Indiana writer Vonnegut- In his book ‘slaughterhouse 5′- Vonnegut begins the story of Billy Pilgrim, a man who has “come unstuck in time”. It accounts of Billy Pilgrim's capture and incarceration by the Germans during the last years of World War II, and scattered throughout the narrative are episodes from Billy's life with his dad, and his own wife and kids.Billy is forced to be part of the war and similar things against his free will. The moments start from his childhood when his father throws him in the water to teach him how to swim. He was unwillingly drafted into the war. Later, he is kidnapped by Tralfamadorians  (aliens that are implied to be caused by his mental health issues/trauma) against his will. Therefore, he realizes that this concept is just an illusion.

  And some of the bad characters in said stories will also parallel Lonnie . Like how in ‘peterpan’- the young girl Wendy imagines netherland and the villain -captain hook- is based off her father ( in the movie they have the same voice actors/while in all stage productions the 2 characters are always played by the same actor). Similar to the other s4 film- ‘wizard of oz’ where the wicked witch of th west from the mythical land of Oz (is played by Dorothy’s real life mean neighbor in the real world/kansas). Or ‘in the cell’- every villain from the alternate-mind- dimensions is played by same actor in diff makeup. Not sure if they’d use Ross Patridge (actor of Lonnie) in this way . But it would be very interesting if (In makeup) Ross played many negative people in Hopper’s life/past -as a way to show Will’s past tr*uma.

Like also-look at Sarah’s tiger plushie! In chinese mythology/culture: “The tiger is personified by the constellation Orion (interesting given Sara’s interest in space/blackholes). The tiger represents protection over human life (hmm?). Tiger charms were used to keep away evil and disease (that’s awful ironic if she died in the manner she did). In Buddhism, wearing tiger skins during meditations was believed to bring protection from spiritual interference and potential harm while exploring astral dimensions.” HMMMMMMMMM  XD

Kali in the stranger things novel ‘Suspicious Minds’ says…

“I was named after a goddess. She wore a tiger skin and was fierce in battle.”

Then Kali says to Alice (a women who can see future visions): “I love you, Alice. We can be tigers together.”This parallel (in relation to Alice) is fascinating because Kali actually uses her powers to fake Alice’s death- and to trick Dr. Brenner, and allow Alice to escape. The allusion was so realistic, that Terry could even touch the ‘dead’ Alice.

So the tiger symbolism could be a HUGE hint- that Sarah’s death was simulated and she’ll come back and travel the innerworlds/alternate dimensions of Will’s mind (as Hopper’s guide). Hopper about sarah “galaxies the universe-she always understood that stuff.”

Another possibility (theory b) is she integrated with another alter or with Will (which means she can’t return) .Hopper saying about Sarah “the black hole it got her.” Could imply she integrated with the mf/shadow monster? And ,or maybe she will later ?

But... I lean heavily to theory (a) the most , though.

Obviously sarah has a lot of the connections to Will. will and Sarah both being into science, Sarah winning a spelling bee, Will winning the science fair, both being connected to tigers. Both hallucinating something no one else can see and people trying to snap the 2 out of what they’re viewing. Joyce saying as a witch she’ll eat Will. Parallels Hopper saying as an ogre he’ll eat sarah. Hopper, in s1, when seeing Will (with a vine in his mouth) has a flashback of Sarah on a mouth respirator. And he also has a flashback of Sarah when seeing Will’s lion plushie which resembled Sarah’s tiger plushie. And el also had a lion plushie-like Will’s in s1. Hopper monitored both Will and Sarah at the hospital when they were “dying”. Will has a fear of clowns- and Sarah’s hospital gown had clowns on them. All 3 kids draw.

Plus, we all know the parallels of Will to El (Hopper’s new daughter).

I discussed in my did theory that Hopper (as an adult alter) is a form of protector to all the kid alters - el, Sarah, and Will (host/core). And Hopper as an introject-alter (who are alters based on a person the child knows ) are usually put in the system cause the kid assumes that person could protect them . And since original-Hopper was a police man (a little kid could easily assume that). Although, because he’s a “father figure” for the system he has some of Lonnie’s traits- which are reflected in other perpetrator alters/ bad npcs in the system- Brenner, Neil, Billy, the evil’s Russians,etc . So sometimes he acts similar to a Perpetrator alter too . And I listed those examples/bad parallels extensively in the original did post (linked in the beginning).

And I used these quotes from psych papers in my original did post to pretty much sum up Hopper’s use in Will’s system .

“Introjects can also be based off of  figures that the dissociative child found strong, courageous, heroic, or otherwise worthy of being emulated and internalized and could theoretically protect them.”

“Older adult alters are created to serve a nurturing or parenting role, thus serving as a protector. (*protecting Will/el) . However, sometimes their older age is related to taking on the identification of the ab*ser and can therefore take on any of the other more hostile roles too ... Introjects which are mimicking ab*sers are trying to "keep you inline" in order to protect you from external ab*sers. They are copying behaviors shown to them by bad people, not harboring the intent, s*dism or imm*rality of the actual perpetrators.”

I think it pretty much sums up the nuances and motivations of Hopper’s character.

Thanks for the ask, anon :)

#jim hopper #stranger things #sarah hopper #will byers #kali prasad #el hopper #stranger things theory #did theory #s4 theory #st movies

[slayernina]

Stranger Things Book: Darkness In The Edge Of Town

My other metas here

La maldición de las cuatro brujas here

Una novela romántica de esas con un macizorro sin camiseta en la portada here

Buy me a ko-fi!

This canon novel tell us Hopper’s past as detective in New York, during the 70s. A self contained thriller-noir novel with non lineal plot (the story goes back and forth between Hopper’s life in 1984 and New York in 1977, and the New York storyline has its own flashbacks/flashforwards). Everything mentioned will appear later.

The story is about a mysterious serial killer who runs a satanic cult, gangs, the FBI and special forces of something… and related to Hawkins lab and Brenner’s experiments. Marked spoilers under the cut, because I’m going to dissect the entire plot. And also, I suspect this novel (plot and characters who manage to be alive by the end) will be related to season 4, so get ready.

Quick note: what we know at this moment about season 4 here.

The story starts in 26th December 1984. Hopper is with El in the cabin. She comments she feels bored because the Party is visiting their families and she cannot talk with them through the walkies. Max is not mentioned in this list, thus confirming they weren’t real friends until season 3.

Hopper realizes despite he is doing all he can, he is not a very good parent to El. He is constantly comparing Eleven and Sara, and giving her Sara’s old stuff (which is not appropriate for El, since she is older and more mature, even with all her lack of social skills).  She doesn’t seems to care.

Eleven demands Hopper to tell things about his past. She founded the boxes marked as “Vietnam”, “Sara” and “New York”. Hopper chooses New York because is the safest story. Hopper time in Vietnam and “what he did” still haunted him until today.

Hopper spent 4 years (around age 21/22/23) in the army directly after high school and sent to Vietnam, from 1962 to 1968. He returned to Hawkins, became a cop during 3 years, met Diane in 1969, Sara is born in 1971. Hopper became bored of Hawkins, the family moved to New York when Diane was pregnant (he is around 38-39 years old). Diane became a teacher at Sara’s school.

The story starts on July 4th. Clearly the writers have a problem with July 4th but it is fitting to have a novel featuring Hopper the day of his death.

Picture New York ala Taxi Driver. Hopper, Diane and Sara are a functional family at a birthday party. They live in Brooklyn, in the middle class side. They are doing well but money is a term referenced frequently by both Diane and Hopper. Sara is in a “good” school.

The lack of funding for the police is also a problem in Hopper’s district.

Picture a classic police-investigator room. Bobby LaVorgna is an Italian and Hopper’s quite benevolent boss. There are 4 more inspectors, not really relevant.

There is a serial killer. He leaves cards with draws with his victims. It is known as “the Son of Sam”, who is a real serial killer.

Hopper is assigned a new partner, Rosario Delgado. She almost doesn’t have physical description (good, I’m so done with male writers and their bouncing tits), only her clothes. She is a Cuban descent, childless, part of a feminist police program to introduce more females in the security corps. Delgado rules a lot. Hopper and Delgado became friends easily.

I pictured her like this lady.

Eleven roots for her from the beginning. She also points out about how unfair is treated because she is a woman and latina. She asks Hopper very pointing questions about injustice and how is still working today (well, the 80s). Hopper is cornered. Go, girl.

Delgado and Hopper went to investigate the 3rd murdered, Jacob Hoeler. However, special agent Gallup (picture here some pen pusher type) informs them Hoeler was one of them, so the case is not in their hands anymore.

Delgado and Hopper continue to investigate anyway. Hopper goes to Hoeler’s apartment. The apartment is full with folders from the United States Department of Defense (DoD). It’s a trap. Someone breaks in, Hopper follow him, he loses him, and when he returns to the apartment, is empty. Nice move here, Big Bad.

Delgado goes with Hoeler’s landlord. He informs there were suspicious people with military jackets looking for Hoeler’s, and he was going to a church in Manhattan for AA meetings.

Leroy Washington, a yunkie black man is interrogated at the station. He informs Hopper about Saint John, a leader who claims to be something like the Antichrist, is reuniting all gang bands from New York under his command, to bring the Apocalypse. He has captured his sister Martha. He was released before Hopper can ask more, but he has one of the killer’s cards.

Diane and Hopper went to watch Star Wars. They fangirl a lot about the ship of Leia y Luke. Awww. Diane finds the card and informs Hopper that the fortune teller of the birthday party talked about them.

Delgado visits the fortune teller. She is Lisa Sargeson and in real life she is a psychologist/psychiatrist. The cards are called the Zener cards.

Hopper met Leroy and both are captured by Gallup. Gallup makes a deal, Hopper and Leroy will work for them infiltrating in Saint John’s cult.

Leroy introduces him to his sister Martha and other people. They rob a shop (Hopper feels very guilt about this because he has some PTSD from Vietnam and hit the old owner) and went to a stockhouse. There, he met Saint John himself, a guy with sunglasses. He admits Hopper in his cult. Gallup incriminates Hopper in a murder for the plan. He is in search and capture.

This is how I pictured Martha.

Meanwhile, Delgado talks with Diane. She is the best, she believes in Hopper’s innocence. It is a pity that the marriage was doomed, they could have been an awesome power couple in Hawkins. 

Delgado discovers the three victims of the Zener killer are the counselors of the AA meetings. Thus, Lisa Sargeson will be the 4th. Lisa met Saint John at a meeting, and follows him to his stockhouse. Hopper founds her, along with some high secret information from the DoD.

Lisa is killed, she jumped from the roof to her death by her own wish. FUCKING SAINT JOHN HAS POWERS TO CORRUPT PEOPLE TO DO HIS WILL.

Picture Kilgrave with sunglases and you’ll get the vibes.

Martha was in the cult because she wanted to protect Leroy, who was in gangs since his childhood. Awww. They protected each other. Double awww. She is a fucking badass and helps Hopper to escape.

During the chase, the city burns because there was a blackout set by Saint John and years of resentment from the population explode. They went to Gallup. After, Hopper and Delgado go to Institute Rookwood, were the experiments were held and the only building with light left.

Saint John catches Delgado, as his 5th sacrifice. He was part of the initial part of the MKUltra experiments. HE IS SUBJECT ZERO. Shit. Hopper and Sain John fights, Saint John claims he hears the voice of Him. Him? God? Brenner? The Mind Flayer? Shiiiiit.

Saint John dies, Hopper is reunited with his family, Leroy with Martha, Delgado will work for Gallup in Washington. The book ends with Hopper reading a book to Sara. Sara has less than 1 year of life by now, but noone knows.

#stranger things #stranger things book #darkness in the edge of town #jim hopper #hopper #rosario delgado #martha washington #leroy washington #eleven #once #jane hopper #sara hopper #stranger things spoilers #stranger things 4 #possibly #slayernina writes stuff #meta #analysis #saint john #subject zero #johnathan saint #mkultra #brenner #martin brenner #lisa sargeson

[artsarasp]

The memory of the observer  [Ch1]

What’s up my name is Sara and I started a Hermicraft/Evo fic because I’m W E A K.

Have fun and let me know what you think of it!

[AO3]

-----

“We will use the buddy system!”

He said cheerfully turning to look at his friends.

“Everybody, get a buddy!”  

Happy chatting surrounded him as he waited for everyone to find their partner. He looked at the portal.

“Uh..?” Grian blinked a few times. What was he doing? Oh, right!

He stepped through the Nether portal and reappeared inside his base in the futuristic district. He just needed to put some junk away before meeting with Iskall and Mumbo at Sahara. He had plenty of time, the meeting was in little less than an hour and Mumbo was probably going to be late again. Jumping around his every unorganized storage he emptied his inventory in the first chest that he thought was empty enough.

His communicator buzzed a few times. He picked it up with one hand and took a look as he chucked his last bit of nether bricks inside a chest.

[Private message from Iskall85]

<Iskall85 > Griaaann

<Iskall85 > Dude where are you?

<Iskall85 > We’ve been waiting for half an hour.

Grian frowned. Were they early or something? He had checked the clock a few minutes before leaving the Nether and it was 2:30 PM, the meeting was at 3:30, there was no way he had spent more than 10 minutes between coming back and putting his stuff away.

He checked the clock.

4:04 PM.

Oh. No.

He had just lost an entire hour.

He quickly texted back to Iskall.

<Grian> Coming. It happened again.

He knew they would understand.  

And they did.

Iskall frowned and looked away from his communicator. Mumbo watched him from his chair in the meeting room.

“So?” He asked.

Iskall sighed and stood up from his chair. “He said it happened again.”

"Isn't it...the fourth time this week?" Mumbo's voice didn't really hide his concern.  

Iskall thought about it for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, I think so." He looked outside of the window trying to spot Grian in the sky.

Mumbo anxiously played the ring he kept on his left hand for a few seconds before standing up and joining Iskall next to the window.

On a surface level, Grian was exactly like every other hermit. He goofed around and had fun with everyone. He was a great builder and he quickly became one of the best flyers on the server, but there were little things that everyone noticed with the passing of time.

Grian didn’t remember where he used to be before Hermitcraft, but that was something common for most of them. Whatever was before being a hermit was forgotten except for the knowledge on how the world worked. The knowledge that they would wake up in their beds after dying or that the night brought monsters was an example of that.

Everyone knew that. Grian too, obviously.

But there were some moments that made the hermits suppose that he must have come from somewhere a little different from everyone else. He expected the world to react in strange ways sometimes. He tried to do things that really didn’t make sense to anyone except him. It was funny seeing his confused expression whenever something happened that made his mind blown, even if no one knew exactly what it was. He thought that placing a piece of soul sand before a door would stop anyone from entering.

He was amazed when he saw an elytra for the first time and he adored the shipwrecks around the island, so much that he made one his first base on the server. Usually, all those little moments were the start of a good laugh of everyone who witnessed them.

It was something odd, but harmless about him.

Then they noticed something else.

Mumbo was the first one to notice it, actually. It was late at night and he was walking through the shopping district to go get some supplies he needed for the witch farm. He was mentally calculating how many hoppers he could buy with his very scarce stash of diamonds when he saw him in the corner of his eye. Grian was there, Mumbo waved at him but he didn't seem to notice.

He was stuck in place, staring at something on the Baker Street building.

Mumbo didn't see anything weird in it at that time. He supposed that maybe he was thinking about making some changes to it. The build still needed an exit if he remembered correctly. He continued with his shopping but wrote him a message.

<MumboJumbo> Working late again?

There was no reply.

About 15 minutes later he was done, or better he had no more diamonds to spend.

He was about to fly back to the farm when he saw that Grian was still outside of Baker Street.

In the exact same position.

Staring at the building.

"Hey, Grian!" He called approaching his friend.

He didn’t move or reply.

This whole situation was starting to get a little too unnerving. If it was a prank it was not funny.

"Grian?" He called again, just a few steps away from him.

Nothing.

He stepped in front of him. Still, Grian didn’t seem to notice him. Even if he was standing right in front of him. Grian's eyes were still fixated on an undefined place on the building.

Then he blinked, which actually startled Mumbo enough to take a step back.

"Oh! Hey Mumbo, what's up? " He said actually looking at his friend now.

"That was not funny!!" Mumbo gasped with his heart feeling like he had just run a marathon suddenly.

Grian blinked a few times, pure confusion on his face.

"What's not funny?"  Why was he keeping the act up?

"I'm not falling for it again!!"  Mumbo said, irritated. "It's not a good prank."

Grian just looked more confused, he ran a hand on the back of his head and looked on the side, thoughtful for a moment.

"I'm pretty sure I didn't pull any pranks lately Mumbo"

"Sure, and what were you doing then being all creepy and staring at nothing??” Mumbo asked skeptically. Grian looked more puzzled than before.

“What are you talking about?? I just got here! I landed and I...I-” He stopped for a second like he wasn’t sure of what he was about to say. “I was...I was trying to remember something! Then you poped up and now I’ve forgotten it again!”  

Mumbo stared at him.  He didn’t look like he was joking, he seemed really serious, which was unusual for him.  

“Dude, you’ve been standing there for at least 20 minutes. I saw you before, I’ve even sent you a message!”

Grian reluctantly took the communicator out of his pocket. As he looked at the screen the confusion on his face became something more resembling of uneasiness.

Mumbo was starting to feel really worried.

“I-..” Grian kept his gaze on the screen of the device for a few seconds more and then looked at Mumbo “I guess I was here..for more than I thought.”

They both didn’t really what to say then.

These little moments. These space outs. No one was sure of when they started or what caused them. At first, they didn't happen very often, once or twice a week.

Or at least the more noticeable ones.

Most of them lasted usually a few minutes and Grian and the other hermit often didn't see them unless they were talking. But at times they would last very long and everyone would get concerned for Grian's safety. He would just stop anywhere and anytime. No matter what he was doing. Seeing Grian's death message on the communicator became a quiet game of "was it an accident or did he blackout again?". He drowned, exploded because of creepers walking upon him and even crashed with his elytra a few times.

Hermits would put him in dirt boxes to protect him from mobs or try and get him out of his trance if they stumbled upon him.  Most of the times he would come back and go off to whatever he was doing before, he didn't really want to talk about this problem with the others, even if it was not a secret. Maybe he hoped that it would go away on his own if he just ignored it.

It didn't really seem to be working.

Then as the longer space outs started to get more frequent he would sometimes gasp something under his breath about remembering something just as he came back.

"I think I had a base made out of snow once."  

He once said to Stress right after she had to snap her fingers next to his face a few times to get him to come back to his senses.

"What? When did you have it?"  She asked curiously.

Grian had to stop again and think about it. He couldn't remember any other details at that time even if he was sure of what he just said. It was a very big base. Bigger of the one he had now? Not sure about that. And why was it made out of snow? Wasn't there something better to make--

A pinch on the cheek brought him back. "Ow! Again??" Stress nodded. Grian rubbed his cheek and looked on the side embarrassed.

"Maybe you should go home and rest a little?" She suggested smiling at him. "I can come with you if you want!"

"Nah, don't worry about it." He said opening his inventory.

"You know.." He got a few rockets ready.  "I think I'm remembering where I was before Hermitcraft."  

"You would be the first!" She said excitedly. "Just be careful when you do your remembering."

"I'll try."

And he took off.

Back at the present. Iskall and Mumbo finally spotted Grian flying over from their window in the meeting room.

Mumbo watched carefully how he fired his rockets and kept and kept on firing them.

“He should be...slowing down now.” Mumbo whispered, fidgeting with his ring. “He isn’t.” Replied Iskall.

The two looked at each other, immediately understanding that they were thinking the same thing.

"I'm sure he's gonna land just fine." Iskall patted Mumbo on the shoulder in a reassuring gesture.

He didn't really feel reassured until he saw his friend land safely just outside the building.

Grian quickly entered the meeting room and smiled at the other two Architech's.

"Hey guys! I'm sorry I'm late" He said as the two moved closer to him.

"Should we start now?"

#Minecraft #Hermitcraft #Hermitcraft fanfiction #grian #mumbo jumbo #iskall85 #Evo #the memory of the observer #tmoto #angst in the future prob /?/ #my fic

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

His Brown Eyed Girl (Sriracha, Part 29.)

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: Eleven, you and Hopper couldn’t understand how on Earth came Snow Ball so fast, but it was there - and your baby had the first big date of her life.

A/N: Ah, Snow Ball and the true, official start of Mileven in the history of Stranger Things... Sweet memories. Also, we don’t like sad Joyce Byers. We love to make that little sunshine happy.

Word count: 2.1 K

Tagging: @nemodoren @creedslove @missdictatorme 

Master list: H E R E

When the big day came by, your household was thrown into something that could only be called total anarchy at its best. Eleven was freaking out because she didn't know how to dance and she was going on a ball, Hopper was nervous about that Mike boy putting his hands somewhere where they didn't freaking belong and you couldn't take El there with Hopper - you had to go to work at the bistro, so you could only be there to pick her up.

You helped her with choosing the right make-up for the evening, giving her a pep talk about boys and stuff so Jim would feel less stressed about the whole damn thing. It didn't help a bit, lemme say. And damn, your baby was looking like a Disney princess. Or, that was what you thought.

Let’s be honest, you had freaked about it the whole evening at the bistro, constantly telling Ada about it. She could understand what were you talking about the whole time, though. She had a daughter herself - and even if the girl was now an adult, there once was a time when her baby had to attend her first ball. And she was just as nervous back then as you were that night. When the clock finally showed eight o'clock, you sped out of the bistro, walking on your own through the whole freezing Hawkins.

It was just exciting and couldn't wait for you to get home and talk about the Snow Ball. You loved it back in your day - and yes, you had to admit, you once danced with Steve Harington himself there. And he made you laugh so hard that day, that you cried. The Snow Ball was just bringing out only the best memories in you.

But you didn't stay that enthusiastic for too long. Once you entered the parking lot, you saw Joyce smoking with Hopper, talking about something, looking in front of themselves. For the love of God, you wouldn't get jealous of those two. Never. Joyce was a good friend of yours, just as Julia was, and Hopper? Well, he seemed to be the dream guy for you. You fell for him. And you knew that these two would never do stuff behind your back. You quietly waited behind a car to hear what they are talking about - not because you didn't trust them, God damn it.

The last thing you wanted at that point was to invade their personal space. Jim never jumped into a conversation between you and Joyce, you and Eleven and let alone you and Steve. He was listening to a lot of them, yet never jumped into them - but never had got any bad intentions, neither had you. He was just worried when if you're doing good.

And from what you've heard, Joyce was just... Sad. And that whole situation made you sad as well. Not too long after Jim told her the line - you knew that the sentence had so much emotional value that your heart grew a little heavier when you heard it.

"That feelin’ never goes away." - He said and inhaled, while he was smoking and looking into the ground in front of them, biting on his lip a bit. You couldn't see his face, no, but you knew that freaking man by your heart. You knew when he bites his lower lip and when he's just smiling. - "It is true what they say, you know. Every day it gets a little easier." - He said, giving the cigarette to Joyce before pulling her for a hug.

And your heart sunk a bit lower. For a common listener, it could look like Jim was talking about Eleven, but you knew that the reality laid somewhere else. He was talking about Sara. His baby girl. His angel. The one he would sacrifice the whole world for if he had to. You knew how much he loved and cared for El - and who couldn't see that shit, that person was blind. But when it came to Sara, the things were incredibly personal for Hopper all of a sudden.

Deep down inside, you knew that if sacrificing what you two had would bring his Sara, he would have a hard time deciding - but he would do that. He would most likely turn the clock a few years backward - to a time when you didn't have a clue that somewhere, some James Hopper exists, to the time where you were at Hawkins High and to when he was still married to Diane. It hurt to be that truthful with yourself, but even if you knew how much he loved you, he would do anything just to hug her one last time.

"Are you two having a smoke break without me? Am I banned from the party?" - You said quietly, coming from behind the car, pressing yourself onto Joyce in a loose hug. You put your head onto her shoulder as you closed your eyes and let a long sigh out. Hopper knew that you probably heard everything, but didn't ask about that.

"You weren't even born when he were having high school smoke breaks during the fifth period." - Joyce mumbled into Hopper’s coat with a lazy laugh, putting her hands around you as she pulled you into a tight hug. You two became friends, all thanks to Jim. You cared about Joyce, you could talk to her as an adult with an adult, you could talk to her about kids, about daily motherly things. When you wanted more down-your-age talk, you hit up Julia. But you grew closer and closer to Joyce over the last nine months. Well, since Hopper proposed to you.

"I was born, you're making a child out of me now. I am an adult by law." - You said dramatically to make her laugh, giving a small smile to Jim in the process.

"I'm not entirely sure of that, ma’am. I might need some time to decide." - Hopper told you, giving you a cigarette as well. You shook your head at him, making Joyce grin. It was interesting to see you two interact. Usually, it was either her and Hop or her and you. There weren't many times she had seen you together.

"And he still thinks he's the law in the household even when he has a fiancée. Interesting." - You mumbled, lighting the cigarette up. Joyce was maybe feeling like an invader in that small moment you two were having, but you didn't want her to go away. She was a part of the family now. Just as the kids and Steve were. - "You really should think about what you're saying or we will have a fun little experiment." - You warned him quietly, leaving Joyce laughing while you gave her your cig to have shot.

"You guys are just the best." - She said quietly, meaning every word when she leaned her temple into your shoulder. The rest of the evening, you stood in the freezing goddamn ait and you were mostly just listening to Joyce telling you stories about Hopper’s high school years. He thought that it is embarrassing, but you were laughing at every single one of them.

Jim was the rebel who smoked during periods and wasn't too much of a brain, yet he always made sure that the basketball team always won the match. Joyce was that typical shy, good girl who was under his bad influence and always was in trouble because of him. He used to date a girl named Chrissy Carpenter who, in your opinion, was a total dud. You couldn't understand why Hopper decided to end up with a soon-to-be college diploma psychologist when he used to hook up with such girls.

And even if it was visibly hurting Joyce at that moment, she told you a lot about Bob. And these stories were just light-hearted and about Bob the Brain Newby, now known as Bob the Superhero. And you laughed so much you cried. You didn't know Bob well - you've only met him a few times at Joyce's when you were cooking there... But that man was a sweetheart just by the looks of it. There was no wonder why Joyce dated him. And he also was good with Will and Jonathan, which was a big point for Joyce. When you listened to all of the stories, you wanted to roll the time back and talk with him a bit more.

You didn't quite know what even happened to Bob. Nobody had told you. You just knew that suddenly, he passed away when you were on your vacation in Dakota, believing that he got a bad health condition. You attended his funeral with everyone, holding out El’s shoulder while your elbow was entwined with Jim’s. And even though you didn't know Bob that well at the time, you felt genuinely sad about what happened.

To change Joyce’s thoughts, you decided to tell them both about Steve and the years he was pinning after you, and those stories were extremely embarrassing. Such as the time when he invited you on a Snow Ball in front of a gym full of people after a basketball match. Or when he tried to kiss you once under the Independence Day fireworks. These made Joyce and Jim laugh a lot.

When the part when the kids got out came by, Joyce gave you both a big, long hug full of laugh. You made a deal that just like last year, you'd come by and train the cooking for Christmas day - now, there was supposed to be Nancy and Eleven as well.

Eleven looked like a lot of things happened during the Ball and that she had a lot of fun, which excited you - you sat with her on the back seat, talking the whole time Jim drove his Blazer towards the cabin. Your conversation made him laugh here and there since you were overreacting at literally every small detail Eleven had told you.

But about the kiss between her Mike... That was something she told you only once Hopper was out of radar and you were tugging her in. You rose your eyebrows with surprise and looked at her. You had your first kiss when you were around eleven - but the first ones were just the purest and most wonderful.

"Oh my." - Your face lit up with excitement and a huge smile, sitting on the bed next to her with your mouth opened. - "So you do have a boyfriend now, huh?" - You asked more silently and held her hand.

Eleven now knew who her real mom is and what Papa had done to her. She knew where to find her, but... Terry couldn't replace you. There was a connection of sorts that formed between Eleven and Terry, that was undeniable at that point, but Terry simply wasn't you.

You talked with Eleven about everything, you helped her with a lot of things and guided her through the basics of being truly human, and even more, you showed her, for the first time in her whole life, how motherly love looks like. Terry, even if it wasn't her fault, wasn't the one reading Eleven the bedtime stories, Terry wasn't cooking with her and Terry didn't learn every single word of the new pop songs that were coming out so they could sing it together. It was you, who was doing it with Eleven.

"What?" - El asked quietly because you seemed to be... Sad as you held her palm in yours. Your smile was strangely weird. You licked your lips, smoothing hair out of her forehead with tears in your eyes.

"Nothing, it is... Nothing. You’ve just grown up so fast since the day I saw you for the first time." - You mumbled quietly, laying down next to her, holding her in your arms within a protective gesture. She indeed did grow up quickly. It wasn't that El was already big enough when Jim started to taking care of her... But long gone were the days when she could barely talk or write. It seemed to be a long time ago when she first asked you if you're her mom or if you love her.

That night, you were sleeping in her room with her in your arms. And when Jim has seen that, he just smiled and closed the door behind him, letting you both sleep safe and sound. Because this was his whole world.

#jim hopper #jim hopper imagine #jim hopper x reader #james jim hopper #stranger things #stranger things hopper #stranger things netflix #jim hopper stranger things #eleven stranger things #eleven #eleven hopper #eleven ives #joyce byers #the snow ball #and the shit is going down from this point

[kilyra]

It’s Okay to Not be Fine

Chief Jim Hopper (Stranger Things) One-Shot

A/N: Absolutely no one requested it, but trying to focus on a more fun fic is just not happening. So I’ve fallen back on the ‘ol write what you know trick (in a sense, the reader’s loss is a husband though).

In the midst of grieving your husband, Hopper comes over to help in his own, gruff way.

Warnings: Spoilers about Hop’s family. Grief. And also, the reader gender-neutral but be aware it is about the loss of a husband.

If you want to be on my tag list for this or any character just let me know!

The firm, steady knock on your door was enough to draw your ire. So when the repetitious knocking kept growing louder, it just pissed you off.

In seconds, you went from deciding to ignore whoever was there to stomping across the living room and flinging open the door without even looking through the window first.

“What?”

Hopper's large fist hung in the air as the wood disappeared from under his knuckles. His eyebrows lifted as you spat out your irritated greeting, but his reply was calm. “Evening.”

Huffing a curt sigh, you relaxed your grip on the doorknob. "Chief...what are...can I help you?"

His steel-blue eyes swept over your face and even the quick study made the muscles in your stomach tighten. You hadn't glanced in a mirror all day, but you were suddenly self-conscious. Your eyes felt like sandpaper, there was little doubt they were swollen and bloodshot. Awkwardly, you forced a smile.

Not bothering with returning the hollow gesture, he raised the oversized paper bag he was carrying in his free hand. The scent of tomato sauce, cheese, and a mix of spices wafted through the doorway with the gesture. “Flo asked me to bring this over. Said you haven't been seen at the grocery store in a few days, figured you might be needing some food.”

Your stomach didn't so much as grumble at the smell. He may as well have been waving a wet dog under your nose for all the good it did. A lead lump formed in your gut at the thought of eating. “Flo's...been keeping tabs on me?”

Nodding towards the table, he casually stepped inside, forcing you to move back and out of the way. After he set down the bag, he grabbed a stack of papers tucked under his arm. “It's Flo, she keeps tabs on everyone. She also said your mailbox was overflowing and sent me over to the post office.”

“That's my...how could you get my mail? You don't have a key.” Reluctantly you grabbed the pile from his outstretched hand.

Lightly shrugging, he didn't try to hide the fact he was looking over the living room. To his credit, his gaze didn't linger on any of the many piles of stuff that overtook the space. Shoving his hands in his coat pocket, he started to aimlessly wander the room. “I'm the Chief of Police. I can do anything.”

Dropping your attention to the papers in your hand, you weren't surprised that there was only one bill to break up the monotony of the card envelopes. More sympathy cards. They just kept rolling in from the relatives in the far-flung corners of the country who couldn't make it to the funeral. Dropping the bill on the table, you piled the rest with the other cards already crammed in your telephone stand.

“You're not going to open any of those?” Hopper had paused to focus on a picture of you and your late husband, but he was clearly still keeping track of you.

“What's the point? Everyone's already called to ask me if their card came yet and they all say the same thing anyhow.”

Grunting in agreement, he reached up and carefully straightened the picture on the wall as he tenderly traced the frame. It sent a dull pain through your chest. You hadn't even noticed it was crooked.

“I'm just glad people stopped sending flowers at least.” Any that were delivered after the funeral went straight in the garbage – you didn't even wait for them to start wilting first. There was just something sickening about having them around just to watch them die. And you doubted you could ever enjoy the smell of a flower store bouquet again.

His boots shuffled loudly as he hummed another agreement and turned back toward you. Nodding at the mess, he finally addressed the elephant in the room. “So...what d'you got going on here?”

Wasn't it obvious?

Clearing your throat, you shrugged. “Just packing up some of hi-...just some stuff. To donate or something.”

That was a generous statement. The reality was you had pulled all of his clothes from the closet, put a few things back – shirts that still smelled like him – and then sat in a daze in the middle of it all. After a couple hours, it seemed to make sense to bring stuff from his den to add to the already-overwhelming pile. All it did was make the fog worse as you stared at everything. You started this project when you first woke up in the morning and had maybe put five items in the box over the course of the day.

“Right, that makes sense. And is this all going or are you still sorting?”

His voice brought you back to the present like an anchor to your drifting boat. Wait, had you been drifting? A glance at his patient, passive expression didn't give you a clue one way or the other.

“Uh...yeah...no I'm done sorting. It's all getting packed, everything in here.”

With a solemn nod, he shrugged his jacket off and slung it over the back of one of the table chairs. Reaching over he unpacked the food, pulling out a smaller brown bag sporting a grease stain and a large baking pan. Once it was set out, he peeled back the tin foil cover on the pan. Lasagna.

Flo must have made it.

“Great then. Tell you what? How about we trade places? I'll get to packing up some of the...stuff...and you sit down a minute and eat.” As he made his suggestion, he opened the smaller bag and the smell of the garlic bread filled the room.

“It's fine, Hopper, I'm not hungry.”

“Uh, huh. Sure...I’m just going to...” His voice trailed off as he went into the kitchen. All you could hear were the rushed sounds of cupboard doors opening and closing as he searched for everything, but you made no move to help. Not that it mattered; within moments he came back with plates, cutlery, and a large knife. Paying you no mind as you tightly crossed your arms, he cut into the lasagna.

He was being nice. You knew that. And yet, a flush of anger prickled over your skin, forcing you to grit your teeth to keep it from jumping through your mouth. Your lips pressed together in a tight line as you composed yourself and tried again. “I'm not hungry.”

Nodding along with you, his mouth tugged down in a soft frown as he pushed a plate of food into your hand, forcing you to unfold your arms. “I hear you, I do. But...and it pains me to admit this...Flo was right. You need to eat.”

Clenching your hands along the rim of the plate, it was all you could do to stop yourself from throwing it. “I'll eat when I'm hungry.”

As hard as you were trying to keep your raging fire in check, there was no doubt Hopper easily picked up on it. But it seemed to roll right off him. “Right. And when's the last time you ate, exactly?”

Your fingers relaxed as you thought about it. The days were a blur, something you hoped would stop after the funeral but it only seemed to get worse. Thinking back over the day was a challenge. Slowly, your lips parted as you wanted to be ready to blurt out the answer when it came to you. But it didn't.

“Mmhmm, that's what I thought. So now, I need you to sit down and eat. I can even leave you alone if you want, and take over packing for a bit.” Hopper firmly pressed his hand to your shoulder, guiding you towards the table.

The fire came back.

“W-would you just stop? I'm so fucking sick of this.” Shoving back against his hand, you broke free as you dropped your plate onto the table.

Letting go, Hopper submitted with his palm out and slowly let his hand drop to his side. His eyes stayed glued to your face, however, quietly scanning over you like he could read your thoughts. “Sick of what?”

“This. All of this. People calling me or stopping by to see how I'm doing. But they're mostly upset their cards didn't make it yet, or telling me how strong I am, that I'm God's brave soldier marching on with His strength.”

His eyebrows furrowed together, perfectly reflecting your own disgust. “People actually say that shit to you?”

“Yeah. And everyone is too busy shoving that crap at me to just ask how I'm doing, nevermind actually listen. I had to put on the brave face for the funeral to try and help everyone else through this. And I did it because I thought I'd get my chance to just...just help myself through it later when the shock wore off. But it's still happening. They only check in to reassure themselves that I'm okay, but they have no idea. I keep having to wear that mask and tell them what they need to hear because otherwise, they freeze up. But it's not fine. It's not fucking fine, Hop.”

Tears barbed along your sore eyes as your rant hitched in your throat. Holding your breath, you forced it all back down so you could compose yourself. You were getting good at that.

“No, no it's not fine. I get that. After Sara died, I watched Diane go through that too – grieve with everyone while trying to hold our life together. No one knew what to do, how to help, so they just kept wringing their hands at us before finally backing away altogether. All they had to do was be there. Hell, all I had to do was be there. But...instead...it tore her apart and I...I just...drank...” Staring past you, he rubbed the back of his neck as he let out a long sigh.

For a brief second, you saw the pain behind those confident eyes. It wasn't a flattering confession, but it was probably the most real thing you'd heard in weeks. His eyebrows flinched as he rifled through the memories until he finally blinked himself out of it. Running his thumb over his forehead, he refocused on you. “But I'm here. And you gotta know, I'm not here for me, Y/n.”

“I'm fine.”

Slowly, he moved closer. "You're not. You could use some help and you need to eat. I mean, I've known you since high school and I've never seen you so...do you even realize how baggy your clothes are now?"

“I'll deal with it,” you said through your clenched jaw. Each step he took made you want to step back but the telephone stand was behind you. All you could do was mentally recoil.

“But you don't have to, not all by yourself. Okay yes, some people might mean well but they're...kind of useless. But we're not all useless, alright?  Let me help." He was close enough to rest his hand on your arm, but he kept his touch feather-light.

“Don't.”

He didn't move his hand, and you didn't pull away.

“I don't have time to just...just break down, okay? I can't do this right now.” As hard as you tried to keep your voice steady, it cracked.

His fingers curled around your arm, keeping you still as he closed the gap. “Yeah, you can. Why not? It's okay to not be fine.”

A shiver ran down your spine and spiked through your chest. The cold chill radiated outward and everything trembled – your arms, your shoulders, your chin – everything. Steeling yourself against the wave did nothing to stop it. “We were so happy...why did this happen?”

It was barely even a whisper, but Hopper caught it as he gathered you against him. Your arms were folded and trapped between your bodies, but you clung onto fistfuls of his uniform as he held you close. “I wish I had an answer. You're both good people and you didn't deserve this.”

The tears came harder as a sob finally broke free. Before you could even think of pulling away, he wrapped his arm tighter, keeping you tucked against his chest as he gently stroked your hair. The front of his shirt grew damp as you wept, your cries filling your otherwise-silent home. Lowering his head to rest his cheek against the top of your head, he hardly gave you room to breathe as he quietly held you.

Just like every other time you had broken down, it felt like you’d never stop. The intensity was frightening but somehow subsided quickly. It was like you could only handle such immense heartbreak in small bursts before the numb curtain dropped again.

Letting out a shaky sigh, you felt the trembling slow as your muscles seemed to melt inside your body. “I didn't want to do this today.”

Still absently rubbing your scalp, he nodded and lifted his head slightly. “I know.”

After a sharp inhale, you felt on the verge of crying more but you held your breath until it passed. You were too exhausted. Hopper relaxed his grip, letting you move away if you wanted. But you didn't.

“You're an asshole.” There was no fire to your words.

You felt his laugh rumble deep in his chest as he rubbed your arm and let out a soft chuckle. “Yeah...I know that too.”

“Thank you.”

His only reply was a soft squeeze as you started to pull yourself together. Even with help, there was still a lot that had to get done.

After you finished eating.

Taglist:  @foreverfaeries​  @flower-two​  @getlostinyourparadise​   @selfishkiddo​  @angelicshinigami​  @pansmexualparker​ @givemeabite​

#jim hopper x reader #chief hopper x reader #hopper x reader #stranger things

[screensirenfic]

Black Leather - Chapter 1

Life had remained largely the same, despite the obvious overhanging changes over the last year. I mean; life had always been hectic; disastrous even, taking turns and downright derailing at the worst times. We’d experienced loss again and again, been chewed up and spat on, but got up fighting; because that was what being a Hopper meant, being too damn stubborn to die. It was in the genes.

Life had gotten weirder. The discovery of real, living and fucking breathing monsters had been a big ole’ “fuck you” to logic, but science seemed to back it up with the uncovering of Hawkins lab and whatever sinister experiments they were running there. Of course; that wasn’t a concern any more, considering old Uncle Sam had shut that down quicker than the health inspector at Benny’s; God rest his soul.

But even with the finality of the death and burial of Hawkins greatest catastrophe/mystery; it still left a lot of bodies in its wake, one of which I was currently adjusting to calling sister.

Eleven. El. Jane. Whatever people preferred to call her; she was currently sharing a home with Me and my dad, as we all played happy families in the darkened depths of Indiana woodlands. I liked the kid; I’d admit it. She was sweet in her own way, and knowing she could toss shit around with her mind made her much cooler than the average thirteen year old. Of course; all of that was a secret. Everything about El was; as far as the government knew, she didn’t exist. It was the price that had to be payed for safety, and God knew dad valued that above all else: including our sanity.

So instead we stayed shut inside that little wooden hut forgotten by time and space, sneaking in and out at the rising and setting of the sun, like criminals or bats in the night. It was enough to drive you crazy; and trust me, dad was already half way there. Tensions ran high all the time; higher than they had at the height of his PTSD, and God; sometimes I just wanted to scream. For someone to address that shit wasn’t normal, rather than sitting around and pretending that it is.

The only true bit of normality was school and work. Mainly just school, as the arrival of a new dependant meant my work hours were seriously fucked. Wasn’t the kid’s fault; dad was a workaholic, didn’t know when to call it a day, and that left me picking up the pieces. It was Sara all over again. At least back then things were normal. There was still trauma, but it was the kind normal families had. A missing parent; semi-alcoholic father; that was shit everybody had to deal with, but this. This was the stuff that only happened in B movies.

—————————————

God; sometimes I really loved having a motorcycle. The wind slapping your face like a Californian wave; that rush of adrenaline when you take a corner a little too fast, when death seems just moments away. It was like flying; soaring through the air without limits. No; it was more visceral than that. Like free falling; the absolute relinquishment of control as you hurtle through the ozone, the earth rising up at you as the void closes in; death approaching at a hundred miles per hour.

You couldn’t compare it to any other sensation. I’d seen kids trying to mimic it on tiny dirt bikes painted up like NASCARS; their little legs spinning the pedals like turbines as they tried to reach just a lick of that speed. To feel the breeze on their face; the closest you could get to freedom in the tiny township of Hawkins, Indiana. That rush didn’t touch the one I felt when I rode my Triumph, hitting 80 as I threaded through standstill traffic; the reaper breathing down my neck.

But like all great rides; it came to an end too soon, the nondescript flat roofed shape of Hawkins High rapidly approaching. I pulled into the parking lot, cruising through row after row of dusty cars; from the beat up old Pacard, to the shiny new Chevy.

I parked a couple of rows before the school, swinging my leg over my saddle as I finally accepted my joy ride was over and I’d have to land back on earth.

“Hey; Lola!” A familiar voice rang out as I pulled off my helmet, shaking my hair loose, less the dreaded helmet hair take hold.

Nancy Wheeler; Hawkins High’s very own Miss Perfect, the princess of Indiana. She was the daughter fathers dreamed of; pretty in a girl next door kind of way, well behaved, a high achiever; the kind to bring home boys who got her back by ten and kissed goodbye at the door. I got called other things. Jail bait, wild child; a lawsuit waiting to happen. Well meaning grandparents used girls like me as a cautionary tale to expecting parents on what too little discipline did to ‘nice little girls’.

Not that I didn’t like Nancy. She was nice, and Steve’s girlfriend too. Besides, being a princess was hard; a lot of expectations to live up to, a lot of hopes to let down. I never had that problem, and with her cotton candy smile; I couldn’t help but give one in return.

“Hey Nance” I chirped, placing my helmet on the back of my motorcycle and knowing damn well no one would dare touch it.

“Steve was just wondering if you’d take a look at his college application...” She began, and I could see the flustered figure in question trailing behind her.

“He’s been finding it hard to find the right words, and we know how you never get tongue tied.” She joked, and I took it at face value; I was getting A’s, despite the perception that girls like me were only good at one thing and one thing only.

“Is that so, Steve?” I asked, unable to hide my smugness as I stared at him, despite his insistence on avoiding eye contact.

There was nothing I enjoyed more than really digging into him. It was just too easy; to push all his buttons. Of course; he did the same in return, but who really had more to lose? The self proclaimed king of Hawkins High, or his leather clad sidekick?

“Yeah, sowouldyoutakealookatit?” He mumbled, rubbing his nose as if he could hide the words as you would a cough.

“I’m sorry, Steve. I didn’t quite get that.” I purred with all forced sweetness and sacharine smiles. I could never resist the urge to really twist the knife.

“I said, would you take a look at it...” he sighed; a visible strain on the admission of inferiority.

“Please...” He added, drawing a smile to my lips. Sweet, stubborn Steve; too good to ask for help, and  just desperate enough to need it; but then what are friends for?

“Sure thing Harrington...” I grinned, finally plucking the crumpled stack of papers from Nancy’s grasp. “Would love to.” I removed my gaze from him, savouring the rare look of humbleness on his face, and turned it upon the paper.

——————————————-

Steve Harrington was many things. Charismatic. Caring. Rich. Good looking. A great guy with almost endless good qualities, but smart wasn’t one of them. I’d spent the best part of a quarter of an hour troweling through his paper with about as much joy as a prospector in a dry well, but was yet to strike gold.

It really was garbage, and that was treating it nicely, but still both me and Nancy tried our best to revive a corpse; not because we felt there was anything worth saving, but because it was Steve, and we cared about his future; even if it was doomed to culminate behind a deep fat fryer in a fast food joint.

My eyes trailed across line after line of smudged ink; much of it crossed out and rewritten in the margins, trying to make sense of whatever it was he was trying to convey in a comparison between WW2 and a basketball game between us and Northern.

“And did you...” I said; pointing out a particular eyebrow raising line, talking about the all American value of victory.

“Yeah; that’s what I thought...” She agreed, picking up off my tone and honing in on the line in question.

“Uh huh” I mumbled reading onwards on what was a virtual mine field of badly used metaphors and poorly linked  stories.

Steve didn’t seem to fare much better than his essay, pacing restlessly up and down a small stretch of parking lot, reminding me distinctly of an expecting father in the delivery room. However; his midwives were much more willing to take our time perfecting the delivery of his academic baby.

“And don’t you think...” Nancy trailed of, redirecting my attention to a sentence circled in red marker. Another misused simile courtesy of the genius that is Steven Harrington.

“My thoughts exactly.” I concurred, knowing that we were both desperately avoiding as coming across as purposely nitpicky with his work.

A loud, impatient sigh interrupted our conversation as Steve’s nerves finally reached their limit.

“I’m sorry, but are you girls anywhere near done?” He asked, drawing our attention away from the paper and up to his signature Steve Harrington pose; hands perched on his hips.

“We were just trying to find some constructive criticism to give you...” She began her tidy little avoidance bullshit; the kind that came with years of forced diplomacy beneath the perfect four bed suburban roof. The kind of bullshit I couldn’t stand; let alone tolerate. I had to put an end to it.

I strolled up to Steve, shoving the proverbial toilet paper he’d used as an application to his chest in a way that told him loud and clear what the truth about his efforts were.

“She means your paper sucks, man...” I translated; my words holding none of her polish, but all of the dirty intentions beneath.

“I wasn’t going to say that. I was...” She said; already backpedaling the hard truth I’d spilt onto the table.

Steve just gave her a look. He knew she was lying; if only to save his feelings. He may not have been smart, but he wasn’t stupid.

“Okay; it’s a little suckish, but nothing we can’t fix...” She offered in consolation; a weak smile the most she could offer in her lie.

I was about to object, knowing the hole she was digging the both of us was deeper than we could deliver upon, when a grisly roar overshadowed all thought. I knew the sound well; all eyes turning to it’s source, the newest arrival to Hawkins.

A Chevy Camaro; older, probably fixed up by some dedicated hobby mechanic with too much time on his hands. I’d seen hundreds of them in the shop in varying states of rustiness; most beyond repair, but still, some insistent gashead would insist it could be done, sinking fistfuls of dollar into what was essentially raising the titanic.

“Nice car.” Nancy remarked, and for a princess like her to notice, it must be true. It was in good shape. Baby blue with just the slightest of wear on the paint; someone took a lot of care with their baby. Fuck; if I had one, I probably would too!

“Yeah, but I bet the backseat is a nightmare.” Joked Steve; insecurity seeping into what was meant to be a light dig.

Not the only man with a nice ride on the block now.

His dig fell short when the driver stepped out, hard rock pounding in his stead.

Pretty; was my first thought. Like his car, he had all the well tailored ruggedness that created the perfect balance between pretty boy and rebel. Blonde haired, blue eyed; think James Dean if he had a mullet.  His clothes looked good too; double denim that clung to him like a second skin, with a white t shirt that really left nothing to hide.

Smoking a cigarette with movie star casualness, if I’d seen him in a movie, I’d be drooling. But this wasn’t a movie; this was Indiana, and I’d seen too many of his type roll up to Charlie’s in pretty cars with prettier faces thinking it meant the world owed them something. That that something was hidden somewhere down the denim shorts I wore so religiously.

I’d had it with pretty boys. They could all go jump off a bridge.

And as if he was already decided to live up to the cliche, he went and cemented it when he strolled past us, dripping sex and arrogance; his eyes trailing up and down me like I was something to be bartered for, like I could be bought.

“What an asshole.” Sneered Steve, taking the words out of my mouth, and I almost smiled; because of course he’d be the one to say it.

But I didn’t; not when the new kid was leering at me with all the restraint of a hungry dog.

I watched him lick his lips; that’s right, lick. his. lips. Pink tongue peaking out past too perfect teeth, running across a full bottom lip. I tried telling myself it wasn’t sexual. That it was just a private little tick that he couldn’t control. But his eyes had never left me; a dark grin that promised any number of sins stretched across a heartbreaker’s face.

“Yeah. An asshole.” I agreed; the word rolling off my tongue automatically, but I don’t think my heart was in it. That frightened me.

That, and the small itch in my stomach that grew every time his bright baby blues met my green.

Finally; those blues relented, tongue disappearing behind white teeth as he shot me a smile that could’ve sent knees buckling. A quick wink and he was done, strutting into Hawkins High like a stormy breeze that was sure to rock the entire school.

“Hey Lo. You listening?” Came Steve’s voice through a fog of cigarette smoke and gasoline; the smell reminiscent of home, despite its cause being far from homely.

“Yeah. Sure...” I replied, tearing my eyes from where the newcomer had disappeared into the school.

“Let’s get to class before we’re late.” I said, shouldering my bag as if it was any other Monday morning. And it was.

Just another manic Monday.

#stranger things #stranger things 2 #Billy Hargrove #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove fanfiction #steve harrington #Nancy Wheeler #stranger things fandom #fanfiction #fanfic #strangerthingsfanfiction #strangerthingsfanfic #original character #stranger things oc #strangerthings oc #jim hopper daughter #hopper daughter

[hopperisntdead]

Sharing, a jopper drabble

I was prompted by @joppersolo1138 to write some in-between season 2 & 3 stuff, some “not dates” for Joyce and Hopper, just since it seems like they have gotten closer by the team season 3 starts. I might do more, but this is the start. 

+++

It started the way it always did. 

They had been growing closer for ages, and Hopper was trying not to notice it. Trying not to notice the way it made him feel. 

Melvald’s wasn’t strictly on his way home from the police station, but if he stopped at the gas station nearby, it didn’t seem too out of the way. Often when he was going home from the station, it was about the same time Joyce was closing up shop at the store, if she was closing. Like she did every Tuesday and Thursday. 

Yes, he knew her schedule. 

No, it wasn’t creepy at all. 

Okay, maybe it was a little creepy, he thought to himself as he picked up a pack of cigarettes from the gas station and walked out just in time to see her locking the door. 

“Oh, hey Joyce,” he called noncommittally, walking away from the gas station down the block towards her. 

“Hop,” she said, smiling at him. Maybe it was the smile that always did it. “We’re closed, you know.” 

“I know,” he said, smiling back. He pulled out a cigarette and held it up. “Share?” 

“If you insist,” she said, and they walked towards her car, leaning against it. 

Hopper took a puff before handing it to Joyce. She inhaled, choking on it just a little. 

“You never learn,” he said, trying not to notice how close they were as they leaned against the car. Her arm lightly brushed his as he took the cigarette from her. 

He had to admit, the signals were mixed. And he wasn’t ready to make the first move. Not with Bob’s death in the background, the way the boys probably both needed her so much. But he needed her, too, as much as he didn’t want to admit it. Maybe she needed him the same way. But that would have been too much to hope for. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Her voice broke through his revelry. 

“Oh,” he fumbled, taking another puff of the cigarette to stall for time. “Just thinking about… old times, I guess.” He was testing the waters. He remembered, back when they did this but while holding hands, maybe an arm wrapped around her shoulders. It had been so long, so much had happened, but it still felt like yesterday, like it would be so easy to just fall back into the way it had once been, before their fight about Lonnie, before he decided to leave, before Sara, before the boys, before all those things. He could lose himself in those memories, if he wasn’t careful. 

And he had been, more and more, maybe not thinking so much about what could have been as about what could be. Had he come back to Hawkins for Joyce? A part of him, maybe. 

“Old times, huh?” Joyce was still smiling at him when he looked back at her. “You’re funny.” 

“Funny,” he repeated. Maybe that was her way of ending the conversation, of changing the subject. 

And yet, she seemed to subtly shift closer to him again, so this time their shoulders brushed together. Maybe Hopper wasn’t crazy, maybe she was drawing towards him, too. 

The cigarette burned down eventually. 

“I should get going,” Joyce said. 

“Yeah,” Hopper said. “Me too.” He stepped away from her car without breaking their gaze. 

As he looked into her eyes, he saw confusion, or at least that’s what it looked like to him. 

It made sense. Hopper wasn’t confused. He’d kiss her and take her home and hold her tightly if she’d let him, but Diane had left him a long time ago. Bob was only a few months ago. Joyce had ever right to feel conflicted, if she even felt anything for Hopper at all. Maybe he was imagining things. 

But then she reached out and squeezed his shoulder. 

“Thanks for sharing,” she said before getting into your car. 

“Sure,” he said. “Anytime.” 

He turned around and headed back to his own car. 

They’d share another cigarette and stand too close to each other, probably in a few days. The next time he decided to stop at the gas station at just the right time. 

Maybe one day they’d hold hands again while they performed this little ritual. 

Either way, as long as he could stand close to her, taking in her warmth, he’d be grateful for that. 

#stranger things #jopper #jim hopper #joyce byers #jopper fanfic #stranger things fanfic #drabble

[scarlet-star-witch]

Never Enough (Jim Hopper/OC) -  Part 1

Note: This starts pre-series but it will eventually follow through season 1 and maybe the others if people would like me to. This is my first time writing for Hopper and even Stranger Things, but I just finished season 3 and I need to fill the hole in my heart, so here it is. Hope you enjoy! xx

I don’t know what he’s doing with her

What the hell does he think he’s doing with someone that young? Some sort of midlife crisis?

You know what he’s been through, this is just some way to blow off steam

Never thought he’d stoop so low to rob the cradle

Devon rolled her eyes, wishing she had enough courage and confidence to turn around and give those gossiping ladies a piece of her mind. Did they really think she couldn’t hear them?

Rob the cradle, she scoffed to herself. Jim was ten years older than her and people were acting like he was some Hugh Hefner type predator. She had just turned thirty and she was woman enough to make her own choices.

The people of Hawkins, however, did not see it the same way.

If only they knew, Devon thought to herself. The fight she and the Chief had the night before had been a doozy. They’d been seeing each other for a few months, he’d been one of the only ones to be welcoming when she’d moved to the small town and things between them had progressed quickly. 

Her mother had called her naïve for making the decision to move to Hawkins. She knew people like her usually got a bad rep in towns like these, based on the colour of her skin alone. But Devon didn’t care. She needed a new start. She was tired of always looking over her shoulder.

Chicago had too many bad memories and Hawkins seemed to be her safest option to start over. She should have listened to her mother’s warnings, though. The looks that were constantly thrown her way were getting irritating.

It wasn’t like she was the only woman of colour, or hell, person of colour in the town, but she was certainly one of few.

It wasn’t only the colour of her skin that caught the attention of others, no, it was her relationship with Jim Hopper, the chief of police that people loved to talk about. People were quite surprised when they’d seen the pair at the local diner, and then the local bar, or even just holding hands as they strolled around town.

Even months later, they were still the talk of the town. Something Jim absolutely despised.

“Mama?”

The small voice broke her out of her thoughts and she looked to her little boy, his wide brown eyes looking back at her own. Her annoyed expression immediately faded as she looked at her son and she smiled.

“What’s up baby?”

“Mama?” He asked again, pointing to the sugary cereal on the shelf next to them.

Devon smiled and shook her head in defeat, she couldn’t say no to those big brown eyes of his. She grabbed the Lucky Charms and placed them in the cart.

“The things I do for you, little one.” She mumbled, unable to stifle a giggle at the wide smile on Charlie’s cherub-like face.

Devon loved her son, but the sight of him smiling so widely, so innocently, sent an ache to her heart, knowing he was the topic of the fight the night before.

She knew about Jim’s past. She didn’t have to gossip with the bored housewives of Hawkins that had nothing better to do to get the dirt. No, Hopper trusted her enough to tell her about Sara and his ex-wife. He had told her how hard it was to lose his daughter and how hard it was to be around Charlie as a result.

Being a single mom wasn’t easy for her, but Jim had made her life so much easier, he had been so sweet and so helpful, she felt like she could finally give her son the family he deserved. Then Jim got scared. His insecurities got the best of him and he had freaked out, leaving with shouted words and a slamming door.

Devon ignored the stares from the housewives’ book club and made her way to the check out, listening to her son babble as she went. She smiled politely to the checkout girl who she knew was eyeing her curiously, as everyone in this town still did.

She was quick to pick up her son from the cart, grab the grocery bags and get the hell out of the store. She wondered when the mysterious Devon Wicklow would be old news. Apparently, not anytime soon.

Devon sighed, placing the bags in the trunk of her car. She didn’t want to just go home and wallow in silence. Well, wallow in the noise of children’s cartoons. That racket might be worse than silence.

She looked down at Charlie who was looking up at the blue sky curiously, which made her smile. Getting a more comfortable grip on him and shifting him on her hip, she closed the trunk and walked past her car, her sights set on Melvald’s General Store just a few doors down.

Joyce Byers looked up from her crossword puzzle as the bell chimed with the signal of a new customer. Her face lit up and she smiled widely at the woman who entered.

“Devon, hi!”

Devon instantly calmed, Joyce seemed to have that effect on her. Aside from Jim, Joyce and her two boys were some of the few people who were always welcoming and kind to her. The two women knew what it was like to be single mothers and it was a quick bonding factor between them.

“Hi Joyce.”

“Oh, look at that handsome little man. Give him here.” Joyce held out her arms, just dying to hold Charlie, who was equally excited to see her. He squirmed in his mother’s grip, his chubby arms reaching out for Joyce who eagerly took him off of Devon, holding onto him tightly.

“He’s getting so big.”

“I know. Before I know it, he'll be off to college.”

Joyce groaned dramatically, resting her cheek against Charlie’s head. “Don’t remind me. Jonathan started looking at places to apply. I almost started crying.”

Devon smiled and leaned against the counter, her arms were thankful for the break Joyce had given her. The woman looked over at Devon and smiled slyly, a knowing glint in her eye.

“So…”

“So?” Devon answered, raising a brow in question.

“How’s Hop?”

Devon’s smile fell and she lowered her head to avoid Joyce’s gaze. The woman was immediately curious by her reaction and she moved forward, looking at her intently.

“What happened?”

Devon groaned and let her head fall to the counter. “We had a fight last night.” She mumbled.

“About?”

“About Charlie.” She answered softly, not willing to raise her head and have the conversation face to face like an adult.

“What?” Joyce snapped, her face drawn tightly. If it wasn’t for the infant in her arms she would’ve marched down to Hawkins Police station and kicked Jim’s ass herself.

“With all the stuff in his past, you know… Sara and…” She trailed off, unable to say out loud what had happened to that poor little girl. “I knew he was apprehensive, but he said he wasn’t ready to be a father figure to Charlie. I mean, I get why he would be scared, I can’t even begin to imagine what he went through, but why wait until three months into a relationship to tell me? He knew I had a kid when we met and he still asked me out. Why drag me along all this time?”

“Maybe he didn’t know how scared he was until he was in it. I mean, it takes time for a relationship to get serious.” Joyce started, choosing her words carefully so she didn’t upset her new friend. “Maybe it wasn’t until he started seeing you and Charlie more as the relationship grew that he got scared.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Devon said softly and her sad tone had Joyce frowning, looking at the mom sympathetically.

“You wanna come over tonight for dinner, get your mind off everything?” She offered with a small smile.

Devon shook her head. “I don’t wanna impose.”

“No, no, you won’t be. Jonathan and Will love you. And they love Charlie. I’m sure they wanna spend time with the most adorable little boy in the world.” Joyce said, cooing her last sentence to the boy in her arms.

“Alright.” Devon relented. She couldn’t resist, she loved those Byers boys just as much as their mom.

“Alright.” Joyce echoed with a big smile. “I’ll see you at six.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Byers’ home was a little chaotic. Not that Devon was judging. She had a kid, she knew how messy and unorganized life could get. She couldn’t imagine having two, let alone, a teenager and one who was approaching quickly.

Devon smiled as Will held Charlie in his lap, holding out his Star Wars action figures for him to play with.

“Will, be careful. He could choke on that sword.” Joyce warned.

Will rolled his eyes, holding the toy out of Charlie’s grasp. “It’s a lightsaber, mom.”

“Sorry.” Joyce whispered, raising her hands in surrender.

Jonatan smiled at the little boy next to him in his brother’s arms and turned to Devon as they dug into dinner.

“So, Devon, how’s the gallery?”

“It’s great. They’re pretty flexible about me living here. I just have to take weekend trips to Chicago every once in awhile to drop off the pieces.

“Are you selling them?”

“Not all of them. Some of them go up in the gallery as permanent displays and some are specifically requested by clients.” She answered and shared a quick, knowing look with Joyce. “If you want, you could come with me one weekend. I could introduce you to some of the sellers and the clients. They’re always looking for new art styles.”

Jonathan’s eyes widened and he sputtered, flustered. “I-I don’t know about that. I’m too young-”

“That doesn’t matter.” Devon interrupted. “If your stuff is good, it’s good. That’s all they care about.”

Jonathan looked at her in astonishment, like he couldn’t believe what she was offering. He looked to his mother who nodded eagerly and he smiled, looking back to Devon.

“Ok, yeah, I’d love to.”

Once dinner was finished, Charlie started to get fussy and she knew it was time to go. She hugged Joyce tightly, thankful she had found such a great friend.

“Thank you for dinner. I really needed this.”

“Of course. I know how men can be. Anytime you need me, I’m here.”

Devon smiled and nodded. “You know it goes both ways, right? If you ever need anything, I’m just a phone call away.”

“Honey, you’ve already done so much, and just tonight. I can’t remember the last time I saw Jonathan so excited.” Joyce told her, holding onto her hands tightly.

Devon smiled and moved to take Charlie from Will’s arms.

“Thanks for coming, Devon.” Will smiled shyly.

“Of course. You know I’d never pass up the opportunity to see you.”

Will blushed and looked down at his feet as he shifted from side to side. She ruffled his hair and sent a wave to Jonathan.

“I’ll see you guys later.”

Joyce waved to her, watching from the window as she strapped Charlie into his car seat. She sent a final wave as she backed out of their driveway.

Devon looked to the rear view mirror, her heart bursting when she saw Charlie wide awake, his feet swinging off beat to the Stevie Nicks song that played on the radio. She couldn’t fathom how much she loved him.

She had never planned to be a mom, but getting pregnant had been a blessing in disguise. She couldn’t imagine her life without him.

Something inside her churned uncomfortably. She thought of Jim and her good mood crumpled. She was on her way to loving that big, sweet, idiot of a man, but it had come crashing down around her, like most things in her life had.

Devon was quiet as she drove, not singing along to the radio as she usually did. When she pulled onto her street she immediately spotted the familiar police blazer that was parked outside her house.

She contemplated pulling a u-turn and high tailing it back to Joyce’s to stay the night, but Hawkins was a small town. She knew she’d have to face him sooner or later. Without sparing a look to him as she passed his car, she turned into the driveway, her heart racing and palms sweating at the prospect of the coming confrontation she wasn’t able to avoid.

She heard a door slam just as she had slammed hers shut. She kept her head down and moved to the backseat, reaching to unbuckle Charlie. Just as she was hoisting him into her arms, she saw the man that had refused to leave her mind all day.

Charlie smiled a toothless grin at the familiar man and reached out to him, babbling what sounded an awful lot like ‘Jimmy’.

Jim Hopper prided himself on being a strong willed, stubborn man, but even the sight of Charlie Wicklow made him crumble. He may be an asshole, but he was still human. He swore that kid had superpowers or something. That smile was just too damn cute.

“Hey, buddy.”

The sound of Jim’s deep voice had Devon’s heart jumping wildly in her chest. She kept her expression plain as she turned to face him.

“You need something?”

Her monotonous voice had him wincing and he ran a hand over his face tiredly. It had been a long day, to say the least. The words they both spat at each other the night before had nagged at him all day.

“Can we talk? Please?” He practically pleaded, sensing her derision.

Devon didn’t respond. She hesitated for a few seconds before nodding her head towards her house as she carried Charlie to the front door.

Jim followed eagerly like a lost puppy, his hands wringing nervously. He stepped inside the familiar place, standing back and watching like an outsider as she moved around the house, getting Charlie ready for bed.

Jim’s chest tightened uncomfortably as he slumped into the kitchen chair, his fingers tapping the table erratically. He knew the routine by heart now, given all the times he’d stayed over. The thought had the guilt he’d felt all day growing exponentially.

“You want a drink?” Devon asked as she walked back in the kitchen, startling him out of his thoughts.

“Sure.” He muttered, taking his hat off and placing it on the table in front of him.

“So? What’s up?” She asked awkwardly as she poured out two glasses of whiskey. Jim sat up straighter in his chair and cleared his throat, already preparing himself for rejection.

“I, uh, I wanted to apologize.” He started, looking across the table at her hesitantly.

Devon raised a brow and slid the glass of whiskey over to him before swiftly taking a large swig of her own.

“For?”

Jim sighed and mirrored her actions, gulping his drink down in one swallow. “You know what for.” He answered, his voice strained from the strength of the drink. “I was bein’ a jackass last night. Should never had said what I said.”

“So you didn’t mean it?” She asked sternly. “About not wanting to be around Charlie, you didn’t mean it?”

“I never said I didn’t wanna be around him.” Jim was quick to defend himself. “I was just… I dunno, I was too chicken shit to admit I was scared.”

“Of?”

Jim sighed and slunk back in his seat, his eyes averting from hers. “Scared of not being enough for you two.”

“What?” Devon asked in disbelief, her face shrouded in confusion. “Jim, you said you didn’t wanna be a father figure to him. What the fuck does that have to do with-”

“I’m not good enough for you!” He snapped, his eyes finally lifting to meet hers. “You’re this successful artist, you had a life going for you. I bet you never pictured yourself with some out of shape, old guy.” He vented, his fingers circling the rim of his glass as a nervous tick. It was frightening being this open and honest, even with her. “I was scared you’d eventually figure that out so I got out before you could break me.”

Devon was shocked, her lips parted but no sound came out. She just stared at him in bewilderment.

“Jim, I can’t even tell you how wrong you are.” She breathed out, shaking her head in annoyance at his petty actions.

“I’ll admit, I was scared to be around Charlie. After I lost Sara I thought I’d never find happiness again, I never thought I could handle being around a kid again. Then you walked into this town and into my life and you turned everything around. It scared me, how fast I fell for you.” Jim admitted quietly, almost like he was embarrassed. “Took me one day without you to realize I’d made an ass out of myself.”

Devon was silent as he poured his heart out. Her fingers fidgeted on the table in front of her like a nervous child and she watched him apprehensively.

“My son is non-negotiable. You can’t have me if you don’t want him.”

Jim reached out, his fingers grazing hers, but she quickly pulled away. The hurt look on his face was like a lightning bolt to her chest and she sighed, shaking her head.

“Jim, I need to know if this is real. I can’t have you walking in and out of Charlie’s life. I can’t let you do that to him. I need to know that you really mean it, that you really wanna be with me.” She warned, her heart racing inside her chest.

“I mean it. I wanna be with you, I wanna make it up to you. I wanna be around Charlie, if you’ll let me.” He told her sincerely, looking her straight in the eye.

The deep blue eyes of his were her undoing and she smiled, feeling shy under his fierce gaze. The sight of her smile had Jim letting out a long exhale in relief. He moved out of his seat and kneeled next to her, his hands grabbing hers.

“I’m so sorry.” He breathed out, wrapping her in a hug that she quickly responded to. She held onto him tightly, as if worried that he’d immediately change his mind and leave.

“No more being an idiot, ok?”

“Well, you know I can’t promise that.” Jim smiled and she didn’t know if she loved or hated how charming he could be. “But, I can promise that I won’t be walking out on you or the little one, ever.”

“You sure? Cause, really, I wouldn’t blame you if this is too much for you. I know what you went through-”

“Dev,” Jim interrupted, a smirk growing on his face. “Stop talking.”

Before she could say anything else, he crashed his lips to hers, his hands framing her face gently. Devon melted into his embrace, her arms winding around his neck. A soft moan left her lips as they kissed passionately, the fire brimming within them from the emotions that were still running high from their whirlwind fight.

Devon pulled away, a teasing smile on her face. “You know, I think I need a better apology. Your first one wasn’t quite convincing enough.”

Jim smiled widely, biting his lip in a way that drove her wild.

“Well, Ms.Wicklow, I think I have the perfect apology in mind.” He rasped, placing a kiss on her neck and grinning smugly when she shivered. He stood from his spot and grabbed her by her hips, heaving her up into his arms.

She stifled a squeal into his chest, her hands winding into his hair as he carried her into her bedroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~

From outside the quaint house, two men in a van watched as the lights turned out. The man holding the binoculars threw them down, his teeth grinding in anger. Jake Pierson was not a calm man by any means. All his coworkers knew not to approach him when he was tense, in fear of poking the bear.

“That’s her?” The other man asked, looking to his companion, slightly worried by the anger he saw in his eyes.

“Yeah.” He answered shortly.

“And that’s the kid?”

“Yes.” He spat back, his patience beginning to slip away.

“Well, let’s go. Brenner’s on our ass about letting this one get away. The sooner we bring the little brat in, the sooner he’ll stop breathing down our necks.”

“No.” Jake stopped him before he could exit the van. “Not while the Chief’s there. We need to get her while she’s vulnerable.”

His companion sighed in annoyance and started the vehicle to drive back to the lab. “Alright, well, you’re explaining to Brenner why we don’t have the kid yet.”

Jake ignored him, his eyes on the rear-view mirror, watching as the house faded into the darkness of the night. His hands were almost trembling in anticipation. It had been a long road, she’d almost gotten off their grid, but they were finally so close to completing their mission.

They just had to get her away from the Chief.

#jim hopper #chief hopper #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper imagine #chief hopper x reader #chief hopper imagine #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #jim hopper x oc

[bejeweledmothma]

For @nooowestayandgetcaught for the ST Halloween Exchange. Enjoy some Joncy, Jopper, and Will and El being a family. 

Joyce looked up at Hopper with a confused expression on her face. “I’m sorry, Jim, you want to do what?” she asked.

“Go to the pumpkin patch, get some pumpkins and have an afternoon of pumpkin carving. We can make it a family contest even!” he exclaimed.

“Oh yeah, have you thought up the teams?” she asked, crossing her arms, willing to indulge him. He looked so excited, and she loved seeing him like that.

“You and me, Will and El, and then Jonathan and Nancy,” he replied.

Joyce thought for a second and nodded. Will’s incredible artistic ability would make up for the advantage that she and Hop had, as well as the advantage Jonathan and Nancy had. “Alright, and when do you propose that we do this?”

“Today. El and Mike have plans for tomorrow, and I promised her that she could spend all day with him if she gave us a family day,” he said.

Joyce nodded. “And since I’m not working, you picked the perfect day for this little pumpkin carving,” she said with a smile. She hated missing out on days that had been planned for the family because she was working. She knew they forgave her, since her job was numb and she’d much rather be with them.

Hop nodded. “Yeah, wouldn’t want you to miss it. Who would I have on my team then?”

“You’d be fine on your own.”

“Maybe, but I always do much better with you,” he replied, cupping her face in his hands and giving her a gentle kiss.

 Joyce, Will, El, and Hop climbed into his police blazer and Jonathan went to pick up Nancy, the group determining that they would meet at the pumpkin patch in an hour. Hop wanted to stop for coffee, and the kids had worn him down into getting them hot apple ciders to celebrate fall properly, which meant a brief trip to the café. Hop ordered his coffee and the hot apple ciders for the kids before looking to Joyce for her order.

“I’m fine, Hop,” she said, her voice quiet.

“Get something. It’s going to be chilly, I don’t want you getting sick, and Jonathan and Nancy are going to stop for coffee too,” he said, wrapping his arm around his girlfriend.

“Alright, fine I’ll get a white hot chocolate with extra whip,” she said, nuzzling into her man.

“Sure you don’t want a mocha?” he asked, knowing that’s what she usually liked.

“White mocha, you wore me down,” she said, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

Hop laughed and placed the order before nudging her to the table where the kids were whispering. “Don’t want them plotting against us.”

Joyce went to sit with the kids, offering them a smile. “Excited for today?” she asked.

Will nodded. “Yeah, we’ve never been able to do anything like this before,” he said. He wasn’t bitter, he knew that his mom worked so hard so much because she had to in order to keep a roof over their heads, food in their bellies, and clothes on their back. He knew his mom never expected praise for all that she did, she shied away from it. And she never resented him or Jonathan for having to work so hard to provide for them. He knew that she resented herself more for it, thinking that if she had done better, she could effortlessly provide for them the lives his friends had.

Joyce’s smile turned sad. “I’m sorry, Will. I would have loved to. I don’t really have an excuse that doesn’t sound feeble. Not one that I haven’t used a million times before.”

Will shook his head. “Mom, it’s okay. We have people who love us coming with us. We’re a happy family right? You, me, Jonathan, El, Hop, and Nancy,” he said. “I wouldn’t ask for it to be any different.”

Joyce smiled lightly. “Okay,” she said, glad that Will was so accepting of their family. She was happy with Hop, and if Will and Jonathan didn’t want him around, or El didn’t want her around, she didn’t know what would happen. “Hey, you know something fun that we could do with the pumpkin innards and stuff, yeah?”

“What?” El asked.

“We can make a pumpkin pie. Save the pumpkin seeds for snacks and such. I know Hop loves pie, and if we make him one, he would be very happy. And I don’t think El’s ever had homemade pumpkin pie,” she said, El responding in the negative before the kids nodded their head in excitement.

“Deal. We’ll make dad a pie and he’ll eat it all on us,” El said, a smile coming to her face. “Like he did with the cookies you made a few weeks ago.”

Joyce looked at her. “I recall you eating quite a share at my house, El,” she joked, reaching out to ruffle her hair gently.

Hop got to the table and set everyone’s drinks down, looking at the three of them. “Now what were we all talking about?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Joyce said, giving him a smile that made his head beat faster.

“Okay,” he replied, sitting down next to her and giving her a kiss before sipping on his coffee.

Joyce pulled his arm around her and drank her mocha quietly, sharing glances with the kids every now and then, but entirely missing the glances that Hop was sharing with the two of them.

Because while Joyce and the kids had a secret, Hop also had a secret with the kids. And those weren’t even all the secrets in the house.

 By the time they got to the pumpkin patch, Jonathan and Nancy were waiting for them. “What took you so long?” Jonathan asked.

“They were snuggling at the café,” El said, Joyce and Hop shaking their heads at her.

“Thanks, kid,” Hop said, his hand intertwined with Joyce’s, engulfing her small gloved hand with his own much larger one.

“Think they’re still snuggling there,” Nancy joked, smiling at the two of them. “It’s good to see you both.”

“Good to see you as well, Nancy,” Joyce said, looking down at her and Hopper’s hands with a tiny smile. She felt secure and happy, and she knew that Jonathan and Nancy didn’t really mind being kept waiting for a short time.

“Alright, let’s find these pumpkins!” Jonathan exclaimed, clapping his gloved hands together, ignoring the look that Hopper was giving his mother. He didn’t want to think about what the two of them did together, it bothered him. Not that his mother was happy, but just that he could hear them sometimes. He didn’t want to, he really didn’t.

Joyce tugged on Hopper’s arm, the pair going off to find their pumpkin. Jonathan and Nancy went in the opposite direction, leaving Will and El standing there. Will looked forward. “Let’s go, I guess, El,” he said, a smile on his face.

El followed after him, quietly. “Will, when do you think dad’s going to ask mom?” she asked, referring to the secret the two of them had with Hopper.

“I don’t know, he said soon,” Will said with a shrug. He knew him mom would say yes when Hop asked her, but he was nervous that if Hop waited for too long, it might make his mom think that he didn’t love her.

“They have to get married soon though, Will. But sometimes when Hop says soon, it takes a long time. We should ask him. Because they have been dating for 298 days. And we’ve been living together for 115 days,” she replied.

Will nodded. “Yeah, and we’re moving to a bigger house soon too. Maybe he’ll propose then?” he asked, shrugging.

“On day 318?” El asked. “That’s a long time.”

“It is, but it’s a short amount of time when you remember that they’ll be spending forever together,” Will reminded her. He knew, deep down, that once his mom and Hopper were married, divorce would not happen. He didn’t want it to. The two of them deserved one another, and he wanted them to be happy forever.

“But they’re wasting time. They can’t have a baby until they get married, remember?” she asked. She wanted another sibling, she wanted a sister. Like Sara, but one that was with them and that she could spend time with.

“That’s true, I guess. But my mom and dad weren’t married when they made Jonathan,” he said, his voice quiet. It was common knowledge in their family that Joyce wouldn’t have married Lonnie if she hadn’t been made to after finding out that she was pregnant.

El looked at him. “But the song. First comes love, then comes marriage,” she said.

“And then the baby, yes, but that’s not always how it happens,” he explained, looking at a pumpkin that was a perfect size for what they wanted.

El furrowed her brows. “Okay, if you’re sure,” she said. “That pumpkin is good, if you like it?”

“Yeah, we can win with this one,” he said, giving his sister a high five.

 Jonathan and Nancy were wandering through the rows of pumpkins, trying to find one that they could win with. “This one is nice,” Jonathan said, pointing at one.

Nancy shook her head. “It’s too small to do anything with, Jonathan.”

“Yeah, we leave the pumpkin perfect and blow them all away,” he said with a laugh.

Nancy shook her head again, this time with a smile on her face. “You know we’d lose, right? Come on, Jonathan, this is supposed to be fun,” she said.

“I know I’m teasing,” he replied, the pair of them continuing on.

“So, is Hopper considering asking your mom to marry him?” she asked.

“Uh, yeah, he mentioned it. Said it would happen soon, but I don’t know when soon is. I know she’s going to say yes, though,” he said.

“Are you okay with that?”

“Yeah, I mean, she deserves to be happy, and he makes her happy. So he’s fine in my book,” Jonathan said, smiling at her.

Nancy smiled at him. “He is really good for her. I’ve never seen your mom with such a consistent smile as long as I’ve known her. Bob was good for her, but she still wasn’t as happy as she is with Hopper,” she said, looking over at the pair in question, laughing at the sight of Hopper carrying Joyce on his back, carrying her through the rows of pumpkins.

Jonathan shrugged. “Bob was okay. He was nice, he just didn’t understand us in a way that Hopper does. My mom was weighed down by having to keep secrets from him for his own safety, and she doesn’t have to do that now. She doesn’t have to go to someone else if she has to talk about fears or the past or anything like that. I’m grateful to Bob for saving all of us, I’m sad that he had to. This wasn’t his world, and he probably didn’t have a chance. Also, he liked Kenny Rogers, that’s… unforgivable,” he said, trying to lighten the mood.

Nancy laughed and shoved Jonathan lightly. “Come on, Jonathan, you can’t judge someone for their favourite artist,” she said.

“Alright, Miss Toto. Do you wanna go talk to Steve, aka Mr Duran Duran?” he asked. “Or my parents over there? The Beatles?”

Nancy shook her head. “Well, we can’t all listen to the Talking Heads all day, Jonathan. Or The Clash like your brother,” she said. She knew that Jonathan paid a lot of attention to the music that people liked. Aside from photography, it was his passion. If he had his camera and headphones, everything was perfect for him.

Jonathan rolled his eyes and took her hand. “Alright, let’s get back to it.”

 Hopper held onto Joyce who was on his back. “You know that once we find our pumpkin, I’m going to have to put you down,” he said, turning his head slightly.

Joyce moved to kiss him. “Then I hope we never find it,” she replied.

“Joyce.”

“Hop.”

“You’re making me feel like a teenager again.”

“How?”

“Just that I’m so in love with you. I haven’t felt this way since the last time I held you in my arms,” he said.

“So this morning,” she said with a laugh.

“I mean… before we got back together. The last time we were in love.”

“I never stopped loving you,” she whispered into his ear.

“I never stopped either, Joyce,” he said, giving her thigh a tiny squeeze.

Joyce pressed her cheek against his shoulder and smiled happily. She felt happier and safer than she had in a long time. Hop was holding her, they were together and so deeply in love, and she was secure in that love. She wouldn’t bring it up to him, but since they’d started seeing one another like this, she’d gained five pounds, and was actually okay with it. Lonnie would have torn her apart and told her to lose ten, and Bob didn’t see enough of her often enough to notice a weight gain. Feeling Hopper love her had helped her to love herself more.

“So, what’s that secret you and the kids have?” Hopper asked after a moment of silence as he continued wandering through the lines of pumpkins.

“What? I don’t have a secret with the kids. What are you talking about?” she asked.

“In the café, I heard you three talking very quietly,” he said, hoping to draw it out of her.

“It’s a surprise, Hop. You’ll like this one though, believe me,” she said.

Hopper rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine. If you insist.”

“Yeah, well, what were you talking about with the kids last week when you fell silent when I came into the kitchen last week?” she asked.

Hopper felt himself panic slightly. She couldn’t know yet. It wasn’t time. “That’s a surprise as well. You’ll like it,” he said.

“That’s what I said, you don’t get to,” she teased. “Tell me.”

“I can’t,” he said, nodding to a medium sized pumpkin trying to distract her.

“Oh that pumpkin is perfect,” Joyce said, patting his shoulder for him to put her back down so he could pick it up.

Hopper lifted up the pumpkin and carried it back to the car, sticking his pocket knife into it to claim it as his and Joyce’s pumpkin.

The two of them curled up in the back together afterwards, waiting for the kids to finish picking theirs out.

 El and Will were carrying their pumpkin back. “I think dad should ask mom to marry him tonight. What do you think?” El asked, holding the pumpkin since it was her turn.

Will nodded. “Yeah! He can ask her in front of the family tonight after the pumpkin carving,” he said. “Mom will be so happy when he asks, she might cry tears of happiness.”

“Does she often cry of happiness?” El asked. She recently learned about what it was from Max while they had been watching a movie.

Will shook his head. “Not that much. Mom wasn’t happy for a long time before dad came into our lives. She loves him, and he loves her. She didn’t have that kind of love before him. That’s why Jonathan and I love dad so much, cause he makes mom happier than our father ever did.”

El nodded. “Your father, dad told me about him. He’s a mouthbreather,” she said. “Well, worse than a mouth breather. He’s like papa was.”

Will nodded. “Yeah, but he didn’t experiment on us like your papa did to you.”

“But he hurt you and Jonathan and mom. He’s the same as the bad men and papa. He hurt good people.”

Will nodded. “Yeah, I hope he doesn’t come back into our lives.”

“If he does, you have me now. You don’t have to be scared,” she said, handing him the pumpkin to carry for a little bit of the trip back.

“I’m not. I’m glad we have you and dad around. We’re a happy and safe family now, El. And that’s not going to change!” he said, giving her a small smile.

 Jonathan and Nancy were still looking. “There is no way we’re going to win against El and Will. My brother is too talented of an artist,” Jonathan said, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Or maybe we can,” Nancy said. “You said that Hopper was planning on proposing to your mom, right? Well, what if we, and Hopper, figured out a way to propose to your mom with the pumpkins.”

“How?”

“Well, we get a fourth pumpkin, and then we have one pumpkin for each of the words, ‘will you marry me?’ and then we put them together and Hopper gets down on one knee with the ring while your mom reads the pumpkins,” Nancy said. “It’s romantic, I think El will like it.”

“My mom is carving the pumpkins with us, she’ll catch on, she’s an incredibly intelligent woman, Nancy, you know this,” he said.

Nancy rolled her eyes. “Okay, well, I don’t know then,” she replied.

Jonathan thought for a moment. Maybe they could pull it off. “Give me a second, I’ll go get Hopper, El, and Will, say that we need their help. Mom is probably cold, so I’ll tell her to stay in the car.”

Nancy nodded. “Okay, great. I’ll stay here,” she replied, as Jonathan walked back to the car.

 Joyce was still cuddled against Hopper, talking to Will and El when Jonathan returned. “Jonathan, did you guys pick a pumpkin?” she asked.

Jonathan nodded. “Yeah, we just thought we’d get dad’s help to bring it back. Maybe El and Will wanna come see it too,” he said, hoping the wink was out of sight of his mother.

El and Will nodded and climbed out of the car, Hopper following them.

“Do you want me to come?” Joyce asked.

Jonathan shook his head. “You stay warm and watch over the other pumpkins, mom,” he said, smiling lightly.

Joyce looked down and shrugged. “Okay, alright,” she replied, feeling a tiny bit left out as the four of them left her. She wouldn’t ruin their fun though. She loved them all too much for that.

 Hopper turned to Jonathan. “So, why did you need the three of us to come with you, Jonathan? And why leave your mother behind?” he asked.

“Because, Nancy had an incredible idea, and we wanted to share it with you,” he said as the four of them got back. “Nancy, would you like to explain your idea to the rest of the group?”

Nancy smiled at the group. “I was saying to Jonathan that maybe we should get four pumpkins instead of three. He mentioned that you were planning on proposing to his mother, and if we had the pumpkins spelling out ‘will you marry me?’ that would be fun. It would have us involved in the proposal, most importantly El, Will, and Jonathan would have a hand. I know it was originally supposed to be a carving contest, but… I just thought…”

Hopper looked at El and Will who had bright expressions on their faces. He nodded. “I think Joyce would like that. She loves fall, and a fall themed proposal would make her incredibly happy. Her face, I can see it lighting up and her giving me a tight hug and a kiss. She’s so beautiful when she’s happy.”

“You make her happy, dad,” Will said, his smile bright. “You make all of us happy. We’re lucky to have you.”

El nodded. “And dad and I are lucky to have your family as part of ours, too. I’ve thought of your mom as my own since the first time I met her. She was so kind and supportive of me, and she was the first real mom I’d ever known,” she said. “If I can help make her happy forever, I’ll do that.”

Hop reached out and ruffled El’s hair lightly. “Good kids,” he said. “Let’s do that.”

 Joyce sat in the car, smoking a cigarette as she waited for everyone to get back. She knew it wasn’t true, but she felt unwanted by her family. They were keeping something from her, and she was all alone while they were out there doing whatever it was they were doing.

She hung her head and tried to not cry as she wondered if it would’ve been better if she was working. They were used to doing things without her, and they wanted to keep doing it, obviously. She was the mother of the family, but just like she had been her whole life, she was still an outcast.

Hopper was an involved dad, and Jonathan and Will needed a father figure in their lives. He was El’s dad who had rescued her, and she loved him deeply. No one really needed her, did they?

She didn’t even realize that she had started crying until the tears began hitting her gloved hands. She sniffled the tears back, trying to not feel as unloved, unwanted, and terrible as she did. She had never been special in her life, even to Hopper. Did he really love her? He had no reason to. She had dragged him into this whole mess and nearly gotten him killed how many times? Yes, it had also saved his life in a way, but it didn’t change the fact that he had nearly died so many times because of her.

She stared out the window and sat like that until Hopper got back into the car. “Joyce, is everything alright?” he asked.

Joyce nodded. She didn’t want to be a burden on Hop. Even if he didn’t love her, she still loved him and was deeply devoted to making sure that he was happy. Having a family was her happiness, but he needed more.

Hopper looked at her. “Darling, I promise that we weren’t pushing you out. I’m sorry if that’s what it seemed like. The kids just had an idea for a surprise for you and they needed my help,” he replied. “We just want to make you happy.”

“I am happy, Hop,” she replied, her voice low as Will and El got into the car. “Did you guys have fun?”

Will and El nodded. “Sorry for leaving you out mom. But you’ll like your surprise,” Will said, offering her a smile.

Joyce smiled lightly. “Yeah, I’m sure I will. I love you guys so much. Thank you. You know you don’t have to surprise me, right? Thank you though. I’m sure I’ll love it,” she replied, turning to smile at the kids, not noticing Jim catching their eyes in the rearview window and winking with a smile of his own.

Jim was glad that the kids all wanted him and Joyce to be happy. That they supported his relationship with her. He knew that Jonathan and Will were aware of the reputation that he had before El came along, and he had been fearful that Jonathan especially wouldn’t approve of him being close to Joyce with his history. He was grateful to Jonathan for his support and for looking after his mom when she needed him. He knew that Joyce hated that she had to lean on her son for support, but Jonathan was a good kid who didn’t blame his mom when he knew she was doing her best. He loved Jonathan like his own son, and he hoped that Jonathan and Will really did see him as a real dad. Or at least, more of a father than they regarded Lonnie as. Lonnie didn’t deserve those kids at all.

His family was too good for Lonnie Byers, and he hated that he hadn’t been able to protect them from that piece of shit. He reached out and took Joyce’s small gloved hand in his larger one, smiling at her as if she hung the moon in the sky, because to him, she did.

Joyce smiled lightly and looked down at their hands. She had never been treated like this by anyone else in her entire life. Hop loved her, his touch proved that to her. She’d loved him since they had been in high school, but she never thought that he could love her back. She’d been so different from the other girls that he had dated in high school, and while they spent time together as friends smoking and doing other stupid shit, she never thought that he would see her as a girl who was worth romantic time. She knew that wasn’t true now.

Lonnie had filled her head with lies and made her hate herself so much. Made the whole town doubt her. She believed for the longest time that she was a bad mother, that the disintegration of her marriage to Lonnie was her fault, and as she broke out of those lies, people called her crazy.

Not Jim, never Jim. He was always as kind as he could be, listening to her, protecting her, not letting people call her crazy. She didn’t know why it had taken her so long to realize that he was the one who was perfect for her.

She squeezed his hand and wished that she could be held by him in that moment. Perhaps tomorrow they could carve the pumpkins and just spend the rest of the day snuggling each other. She loved spending time with the kids, but she loved having Hopper to herself. But if they got the pumpkins done that day, she could have him all to herself tomorrow and send the kids off to the Wheelers for the day. That sounded like a better plan to her.

Hopper looked at her and smiled. His heart beat for her and their family, and pretty much only them. They had saved his life more times than he cared to count. He couldn’t wait to get home and wrap her up in his arms before they started on their pumpkin. They enjoyed doing things as a couple, and things as a family, and he was glad that he had found people to be with that enjoyed being around him as much as he enjoyed being around them. He held onto Joyce’s hand tightly and continued driving until they were home.

Joyce got out of the car and went to unlock the door, calling after everyone, “how about some hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows before we start?”

Everyone nodded eagerly and Hopper hurried up behind her. “Perhaps we can have ours in our room?” he suggested.

Joyce looked up into his eyes and nodded eagerly. “Good idea,” she replied, biting her lip. “We can warm up under the blankets.” She winked at him and went inside to prepare the hot beverages for everyone.

Once they were ready and everyone had theirs, she looked at her family. “Okay, so in 45 minutes, we will start the pumpkin carving. Make sure you’re back out here and you’ve brought your A game with you. This competition is real,” she said before Hopper grabbed her hand and led her to their bedroom. She curled up into his arms in their bed and kissed him softly.

“I missed kissing you, darling,” he said, cupping her face in his hands and giving their kiss everything that he had. “You’re so incredibly hot.”

Joyce flushed. She still wasn’t used to the love and attention that Hopper gave her. “You know what else is hot?” she asked.

“What?”

“You. The hot chocolate is almost as hot as you,” she replied, glancing away. She loved him and loved making him feel as wonderful and sexy as he was, but she was still really new at that. She’d never been with someone that had been this good to her in the past. She needed him to know that we was everything to her.

Hopper chuckled lightly. “Awww darling,” he replied, kissing her again and trying to lean her back against the mattress.

“No Hop, not right now. I want you, but we have less than 45 minutes to drink our hot chocolate and if you do what I think you’re trying to, then there is no way that we’ll have time to plan our pumpkin,” she scolded him. She wanted to win. Will was good at art and was unstoppable when he worked with El, and Nancy and Jonathan were really good at everything they put their minds to. She felt a disadvantage. She knew that Hopper wouldn’t see it the same, so she said nothing.

Hopper nodded. “Okay, if you’re sure. I just want to make you happy,” he said, sitting back up and picking up his hot chocolate from their bedside table and taking a sip. “Oh darling, you spoil me.”

Joyce turned pink again. “No, I don’t. I just do what anyone would do for you.”

“Okay, Diane made me and Sara hot chocolate, but she was my wife. She wasn’t just anyone. Cause no one is supposed to be as good to me as my wife is,” he said.

Joyce felt her heart sink. Of course he still loved Diane. How could he not? Diane had been a strong, smart woman who had given him his daughter whom he loved so very much. She had been a teacher, and what had Joyce done? Married the town loser, had two kids with him, and then she got left by him. Why would he love her half as much as she loved him. “I mean, I would like to be good to you,” she said, looking down at her lap.

Hopper’s heart sank when he realized his mistake. He had hurt Joyce, that much he knew. “Darling, any man would be the luckiest man on Earth to call you his wife. I’m sorry that Lonnie didn’t realize what he had when he treated you like crap, and left you. You deserved much better.”

”Hop, you don’t have to tell me these things. I know they aren’t true. Luckiest man on Earth, that’s what you were when you had Diane. I’m just a placeholder until you can find someone better,” she said, her voice low. “Bob wouldn’t have stayed either. I’m-“

“I love you, Joyce. And if you were my wife, you would know that you’re special, okay?” he asked, looking at her intently.

Joyce shrugged and got off the bed. She loved him, but she refused to hold onto hope when it was pointless. She was a fuckup. A useless fuckup who was the disappointment of the entire town. She could barely believe that Hopper had stayed as long as he had. Maybe it was because he was broken too, and needed someone better than him to lift him up again. “We should go and get started soon. On the pumpkins.”

Hopper sighed and nodded. He had screwed up. Made Joyce feel like she wasn’t good enough for him. He felt like kicking himself. He was going to propose to her that night, and he had just potentially ruined their entire relationship. “I’m sorry, Joyce. I love you.”

Joyce shrugged again. “I love you too. You have nothing to apologize for,” she said, sitting down on the sofa and lighting a cigarette as Hopper went out to the car to get the pumpkins.

After he brought all four in, Joyce counted them. “I thought we only go three. There’s six of us, unless two of us are doing our own?” she asked.

Hopper shook his head. “No, Will just wanted to do a special one. Him and El are doing one, then he’s doing his own as well. Not for the family thing,” he replied, hoping that she would still be surprised.

Joyce furrowed her brow and nodded. “Okay, that’s fine,” she said, Hopper producing permanent markers and the knives for the pumpkins before beginning to gut them, since no one else in the house would.

Joyce brought him a large bowl for the guts, saying that she would use them for the garden. Hopper furrowed his brow, knowing that she didn’t garden, and even if she did, it was far too late in the season for it. But he let it go, surely she had a reason for keeping the stuff.

Joyce put the pumpkin guts in the kitchen and called for the kids, letting them know they had a couple minutes to finish getting ready, making sure that they were in clothes that could get messy. They could do laundry later if they had to.

She went back to Hopper. “Hey, we still haven’t figured out what we want ours to look like,” she said, tilting her head.

Hopper had already fixed that up with the kids. They were doing the end of the line of pumpkins. “I want to surprise you.”

“But we’re on the same team,” she said, furrowing her brow.

“You’re also the best person to do the judging. You love everyone equally. There is no bias in your pure heart,” he replied.

Joyce raised an eyebrow. “So what am I supposed to do?” she asked. “Don’t say clean up all of your messes.”

“Well of course not. Why would I want you to do that? You can support us all, and mostly me,” he said.

Joyce made a face. “Let me work on it with you,” she begged as the kids came out, grabbing their pumpkins and quietly getting to work, talking in their partnerships. Joyce pressed her cheek against Hopper’s shoulder as he began outlining in the permanent marker. “What?”

Hopper looked at her. “You’ll see later on,” he said, continuing to trace the ‘m’ ‘e’ and ‘?’. He wasn’t about to tell her what he was doing. It would spoil the surprise, and he needed her to be surprised by this proposal. It was the whole point.

Hopper took the knife and began carving out the letters, Joyce making sure their space stayed relatively clean (even though he told her not to worry about it, she didn’t want pumpkin all over their floor).

In under an hour, they were done all four pumpkins, and Joyce was in shock. “Will, I thought yours would take at least a few hours?” she asked. He was very careful with his artwork.

Will shrugged. “I think it’s really good, mom. You’ll see it soon enough.”

Joyce shrugged again and finished tidying up before going back into the living room, finding everyone conspiring by Will’s pumpkin. “Darling, you have to judge them in a specific order, okay? Will’s, then Nancy and Jonathan’s, then El and Will’s, and finally ours, okay?” he said.

Joyce nodded and went to look at Will’s solo pumpkin. He had been right, it was good, but odd. It just said ‘will’ on it. “Okay. Good job, Will. I, um, I like it,” she said.

She moved to Nancy and Jonathan’s, again finding a singular word. This time it was ‘you’. “I don’t want to even know. It’s good though. Thanks guys,” she said.

By now, Joyce was past confused, she was concerned. Had her family gone completely insane? Words on the pumpkins they had bought for carving? She moved to Will and El’s to find the word ‘marry’. She didn’t say anything, but her jaw dropped, remembering what Hopper had put on their pumpkin. ‘Me?’ Will. You. Marry. Me? She turned towards Hopper to find him down on one knee, holding a ring box with a large smile.

“So?” he asked.

Joyce stood there in shock. She had been hoping for him to propose for a long time, and it was perfect. He had gotten their kids involved and everything. She felt tears that she didn’t even know were falling hit her hand as she covered her mouth, nodding like a crazy person. “Yes, yes, yes, Hopper. Of course I will,” she said as he stood up, taking her hand to put the ring on her finger before lifting her up into his arms for a kiss.

The kids looked on with bright smiles on their faces. Jonathan and Will couldn’t be happier that their mother had found a man who loved and valued her as much as they did. They loved Hopper like a dad and El like a sister, and now they would be a real family.

El couldn’t contain her glee, her smile already hurting her face as she clapped. She’d always regarded Joyce as a mother figure, and now she would be her mother. For real! She knew that Joyce was perfect for her dad, and she loved them both so deeply. She was happier than anything that they were happy now. And would only get happier in the future.

Hopper held Joyce up for a long while, just kissing her over and over again, not caring that the kids were still standing there. He could barely believe that they had pulled this off and surprised Joyce successfully. He couldn’t believe that the most incredible woman he’d ever known had agreed to become his wife. He couldn’t believe that he got to come home to her at the end of every day and get a kiss from her soft lips. That he got to hold her each night in bed. That he got to make love to her.

He thought he’d lost all that she had to offer him a long time ago when he’d chosen Vietnam and then Diane over her. He’d fucked up, letting her go to marry Lonnie. That shitstain didn’t deserve the most kind, courageous, and beautiful woman in the entire world. He had tried to extinguish her light time and time again, but thankfully, every single time he had ultimately failed. She was still fierce and he was always in awe of her. The way she stood up when something was wrong. He broke the kiss and looked into her tear filled eyes and at her bright smile. “I love you so fucking much, Joyce.”

Joyce buried her face into Hopper’s chest and tried to hide the fact that her face was red as a tomato. She knew that she wasn’t really good enough for Hopper, but she strived to be. He’d never struggled like she did to put food on the table or keep a roof over El’s head once he’d taken her in. He didn’t have a lot of money, but he certainly made more than she did. She didn’t want him thinking that his money had anything to do with her love. People in town would talk though, saying that she just wanted a police chief’s salary in her home. She tried to push down the thoughts of what people might say. She loved Jim, with all her heart, and nothing would ever change that. She glanced up at him to see him gazing down at her as if she was all he wanted to look at in his life. She felt her face turn even more red as she glanced back down, holding onto him tightly. To her, it didn’t matter how many times he looked at her like that, it would always be special.

Jonathan stuck his hands in his pockets and glanced at Nancy, hoping she would sense his discomfort. He wanted him mom to be happy more than anything, but he really couldn’t deal with the kissing and snuggling. “Hey, uh mom, dad, is it okay if we go catch a movie. Let the two of you have some time together?” he asked, nudging El and Will and nodding towards the door after Joyce and Hopper nodded. “We’ll see you later!”

Joyce watched as their kids left the house. “I feel bad. I feel like we pushed them away. Hop, are we bad parents?”

“For wanting time alone? No, we’re not. We’re human, we’re a couple,” he said, his lips finding hers again as he lifted her up into his arms and carried her to their bedroom.

 Jonathan, Nancy, Will, and El climbed into the car and Jonathan started it, shaking his head. “I don’t like it,” he said.

“Like what?” Will asked.

“The two of them. They’re too close, it’s not good for her,” he said.

El furrowed her brow. “Dad makes mom happy, mom makes dad happy. They argue, but they’re a good team.”

“El, you didn’t know him before you came along. He was the town drunk, he slept around, he did shit, El,” he said, driving off down the road.

“Jonathan, he used to. He’s not like that anymore. Your mom and El, mostly, they put him back together,” Nancy said.

Jonathan shook his head. “That’s the other thing. Why does it have to be El’s job or my mom’s job to fix him? He’s a grown man!” he exclaimed.

“Jonathan, he lost everything. That takes a toll. You were there when mom thought that I was gone. I wasn’t, but even I know that she didn’t take it easily. She wasn’t at her best. Hopper actually lost his daughter, had to watch her die. Then he lost his wife. How would you feel if that happened to you?” Will asked.

Jonathan stopped for a moment. In his desire to protect his mother, he had neglected facts. He knew that Hopper wasn’t the man that he was when Will went missing. He had helped his mom become happier. Will, El, Nancy, they were right. He and their mom held their weird family together, and looked out for everyone under their care. They were a family because of him. Without Hopper, he didn’t know what would have happened to his mom. “You’re right. I probably wouldn’t have dealt with it much better. I feel ridiculous for hating on him now. What matters is who he is now, and that’s someone who makes my mom happy. She’s been through so much, Lonnie put her through hell, Bob didn’t understand her. Now, she had someone who had helped her through hell and out the other side, and someone who understood her, that she could share her feelings with, discuss things with. Maybe Hopper is what mom deserves. She seems to think so. He isn’t perfect, but that seems to appeal to her,” he said. “I just would prefer if mom had someone who was perfect.”

“She wouldn’t want that. Perfection would freak her out. Perfection would make her feel inferior,” Nancy said. “Your mom doesn’t want perfection or anything of the sort. She wants Hopper, and you have to be more than okay with that. You have to support it.”

Jonathan nodded. “Alright, let’s go find a movie to see to give them time together,” he said, turning onto the street that led them into town.

“Are we going to move into a new house?” El asked. “When mom and dad get married?”

Jonathan shrugged. “I don’t know, El. Probably. But I’m also going off to college soon. Do you want to move?”

El shrugged. “Well dad and I still technically live at the cabin, and he was telling me that moms and dads usually live together, except if they get divorced. But they’re doing the opposite,” she said. “Besides, mom has been saying stuff about the house being too small and that she doesn’t want to stay in the house that has brought her so much pain while she starts a new chapter. I don’t know what she means, but that’s what she says.”

Will nodded. “I know what she means. I mean, we have good memories of our house, but also a lot of bad ones. Mom doesn’t need those clouds hanging over her new happiness with Hopper.”

Jonathan nodded. “Yeah. I’d like a new place. Maybe closer to town? Probably not too close, cause I doubt we could afford that. Mom and dad are already worried about the two of you and your college tuitions, and they’re stressed about my tuition as well.”

Will and El nodded. “Let’s not go to a movie. Let’s go see the Wheelers,” Will suggested.

“I’m seeing my Wheeler right now,” Jonathan said, taking Nancy’s hand and smiling at her.

Will and El rolled their eyes. “We want to see Mike. We have to tell him that we’re going to be brother and sister. Officially,” El said.

“Do mom and dad want you telling anyone that they’re engaged? What if they want to keep it private for now?” Jonathan asked.

“Why? They love each other. Don’t they want the world to know that? They should,” El said, crossing her arms.

“Things are complicated when you’re old,” Jonathan explained. “It’s not like when you’re young and all you have to think about is yourself and your feelings. They have to think about us, and everything else. As much as they might want the world to know, they have to be careful.”

El nodded. “That’s not fair to them. I wish things were easier for them. They deserve it.”

Jonathan nodded. “Yeah, they do. And I’m sure that they wish things were easier too.” He turned onto Maple St. and into the Wheelers driveway. “Alright, we’re heading back in 2 hours guys. Make sure you’re ready.”

He and Nancy followed Will and El out of the car and into the house.

“I should mention, my mom made pumpkin pie. I know that your mom is also making some, but you know that Hopper loves pie, I don’t think that the rest of the family is going to get much,” Nancy said. “So you’re welcome to my mom’s.”

Jonathan laughed and stuck his hands into his pockets. “Yeah? Thanks, darling,” he said as she moved to wrap her arms around him and give him a kiss. He took his hands from his pockets and wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her close to him. This was happiness, and he knew he was lucky to have it, and he was glad that his mother had it too. He would never look at a pumpkin in the same way again.

#it's under the cut cause it's over 7500 words #like wow #stranger things Halloween exchange 2019

[chiseler]

ALL THE WORLD’S A NIGHT CLUB

Clocking in at 58 minutes, Night World (1932) may still hold the record for how much can be packed into an hour of celluloid. This compact tale of one night in the life of a Manhattan hot spot bursts like a Christmas cracker, spewing forth dizzy glamour, drunk humor, risqué antics, weighty melodrama, leg art, poignant tragedy, tap-dancing chorus girls, trigger-happy gangsters, adultery, tender budding love, and wisecracks zinging through the air in a free-for-all.  The pace is so accelerated, the shifts in tone so whiplashing, that it plays like one of those condensed-Shakespeare gags; yet, far from jarring, it all blends like a well-shaken cocktail. You’re not sure what you’re drinking, but it goes down easy.

An opening montage offers an apertif of bright lights, dark streets, flowing booze and floozies on the prowl; and a heavy dose of warning in a murder victim felled by a shot, a dirge-like Salvation Army parade, and a little boy saying his prayers—just to remind us that there is such a thing as innocence. Then we arrive at the entrance of Happy’s Club, a whirlpool of frivolous debauchery run by the affable yet sinister Boris Karloff, who calls everyone “big shot” and spends most of his time seething over his faithless, bitchy wife.

The irony of the club’s name is spelled out by Tim (Clarence Muse), the sage black doorman, who says that the nightly revelers are hungry, but not for food, “maybe they don’t know what for.” Inside, in the bright blur of liquor and women and jazz, they think they’re happy, but when they come out, it’s the same cold, sad world. “That’s real starving.” Despite the demeaning dialect (he says things like “I’se a philosophizer”), Tim is an example of the much greater depth and dignity allowed to racial and ethnic minorities in pre-Code Hollywood. They might be the butt of jokes, but they’re also real people; one thread running through the film is Tim’s anxiety over his wife, who is in the hospital. His continually frustrated efforts to find out how she is, and to get away to be with her, come as reminders of that cold, sad world beyond the nightclub.

It’s not a speakeasy (Happy “just serves white rock and ginger ale and hopes nobody dies on the premises”) but the guests bring plenty of their own ammunition. A fat drunk spends the whole movie looking for someone from Schenectady; a giggling, helium-voiced blonde drives her escort to despair; a flamboyant pansy responds to a chorus-girl’s come-on with a sniffy, “That’s Mister Baby to you.” The wised-up girls are always dishing out smart cracks, telling each other how they told him where to get off. George Raft at his most reptilian boasts about winning 11 G’s off “some ump-chays from Philadelphia.” A bootlegger stops in to warn Happy of the consequences of buying his stuff from the wrong supplier. Mrs. Happy slinks around dripping venom, ducking into closets to smooch the dance director.

At the center of the film is the morosely plastered Michael Rand (Lew Ayres), a poor little rich kid who sits alone, punishing himself with bad liquor because his mother shot his father in another woman’s apartment. He’s redeemed by a good angel, chorus girl Ruth Taylor (Mae Clarke), who takes him under her wing after Happy knocks him cold, a cure for his alcoholic jitters. She puts him to bed under a bear-skin rug, pockets his wallet so he won’t get rolled, reintroduces him to the concept of water (“Here, insult your stomach with this.”) Clarke, for once in a movie where no one drags her by the hair or slaps her with a citrus fruit, is lovely: both her beauty and her acting style have a natural, unaffected warmth that’s rare in an era of platinum hair and penciled-on eyebrows. Her goodness—not innocence—makes the dazzle of naughtiness look like cheap tinsel. She’s the glass of water you thirst for after a lot of lousy booze. She can hoof too—Clarke was dancing in nightclubs at age thirteen—and her figure in rehearsal shorts would wake any man out of a three-day drunk.

“You know, they can make it faster than you can drink it,” Ruth tells the sozzled Rand, who replies, “Yeah, but I bet I’ve got them working nights.” (A line recycled by Dan Duryea in The Great Flammarion.) Adorable, boyish and clean-cut, Lew Ayres makes a surprisingly effective, and affecting, drunk—looking forward to perhaps his best performance, as Hepburn’s wastrel brother in Holiday. Perhaps because he doesn’t overdo it: there’s a delicacy and restraint even as he is credibly woozy and sloshed. As Ned Seton, he’s the most appealing character in Holiday, with his bitter intelligence, sensitivity and mordant humor; but he’s also a man without a spine or a hope. When he tells Hepburn, as his unhappy sister, what it’s like to get drunk, she’s enticed by his account of the glow and hyper-clarity, the exciting game of navigating a world where every action is transformed into a challenge—but she’s disappointed and disgusted by his matter-of-fact admission of the final stage, when you pass out. It’s a weakness, a sloppy self-annihilation that she could never accept.

When you make your film debut kissing Garbo, it would seem there’s nowhere to go but down, and Ayres’s pretty face might have doomed him to cloying juvenile roles, but instead he had a few years of varied and surprisingly dark films, starting with the harrowing All Quiet on the Western Front (1930), which instilled the pacifism for which he would later be reviled. He played a ruthless Walter Winchell-like columnist battling racketeers in Okay, America (1932); a cad who knocks up the family maid in Common Clay (1930); even an unlikely gang boss in Doorway to Hell (1930). In Night World, Ayres has two scenes that stand out as unassimilated lumps of Drama: first his encounter with his late father’s mistress, who offers a persuasive defense of adultery, and then his meeting with his mother (a mink-swathed Hedda Hopper). This latter scene is over-written and out of step with the rest of the movie, but also shocking: you don’t expect in such an otherwise lightweight film to see a young man bitterly disown his neglectful mother, and the mother admit she never loved or wanted her son. Hopper’s hard, self-satisfied face is chilling; so much for Mom and apple pie.

The developing romance between Ruth and Michael, by contrast, doesn’t feel rushed or contrived. So much has happened so fast in the film that by the time he asks her to marry him and sail for Bali the next day, it doesn’t seem like an unrealistically hasty move. In its last five minutes Night World kicks into an even higher gear: after one stabbing moment as Tim learns that his wife has died, gangsters burst in with guns blazing, and the new couple’s first kiss looks likely to be their last as they cower before a twitchy, psychotic Jack La Rue. When their lives are saved by the timely entrance of an Irish cop, they and the movie walk over the bodies of the dead for a last few giddy jokes as they set out for their new lives—in a paddywagon.

Just another night on East 53rd Street.

by Imogen Sara Smith

#Imogen Sara Smith #The Chiseler #Night World #Mae Clarke #The Great Flammarion #Doorway to Hell #Pre-Code #Hedda Hopper

[thetravelerwrites]

Daughters (A Stranger Things Drabble)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Fandom: Stranger Things Words: 1855

One of my few non-terato related stories, about a year and a half old. This is a stand alone fic about Hopper showing Eleven the birth certificate from Dr. Owens and explaining what it means. Hopper opens up about his lost daughter, Sara. Feedback is appreciated.

Eleven sat on the couch covered in a thick blanket, watching a particularly old western that made very little sense to her, when she heard the special knock on the door.

Without taking her eyes off of the T.V., she reached out mentally and snapped open the four slide locks and the deadbolt with little effort. She heard Hopper enter the cabin, tap his boots against the door frame, and shut the door, though she didn’t turn to look at him. He had gone on his off-day without telling her why, and that, in her experience, was never a good thing. She was a little apprehensive to learn what exactly he’d been up to while he was away.

He stepped around the couch to turn the T.V. off and then sat down beside her, laying two envelopes on the coffee table. One was slim and white, and the second was big, brown, and overflowing.

“What’s that?” Eleven asked, nodding her head at them.

He didn’t answer right away. He sat hunched forward with his elbows on his knees, rubbing his mustache with his right hand, looking down at the brown envelope.

“I went to see Dr. Owens today,” Hopper mumbled from behind his hand.

Eleven’s heart rate accelerated in alarm.

“Bad man,” Eleven said in a nervous whisper.

“Nah, he ain’t all bad,” Hopper said. “He had something for me. Well, it’s for both of us, actually.” He reached for the white envelope and handed it to her. She took it gingerly.

Opening it, she pulled out a blue paper with writing she didn’t understand. “‘Cert…certificate of birth?’ What does that mean?”

“It’s a paper the parents get when a baby is born. Then when that baby gets old enough, they keep it. It’s proof.”

“Proof of what?”

“Life. Existence.” Hopper turned to her. “It shows who your parents are, where you came from.“ He pointed. “It’s also got a social security number.”

“What’s that for?”

“In American, you have to have a social security number to do just about anything. Go to school, get a job, etc. That number is your whole life.”

She frowned at the digits on the page, then the ones on her arm. “Another number.”

“Yeah,” Hopper laughed. “We all got ‘em, kid. I guess most of us are lucky that it’s not our name, too.” He jerked his chin at the paper. “Keep reading.”

“‘This certifies that in the state of Indiana, Jane Hop…’” She looked up at him. “Hopper?”

He nodded solemnly.

“‘Was born in Hawkins, child of Teresa Ives, Mother, and James Hopper… Father.” She looked back at him and lowered the paper, though still clutched it in her fingers. “I don’t understand. What does this mean?”

“Means it’s official,” Hopper said. “We’re family. You’re kinda stuck with me now. Sorry ‘bout that.”

She shook her head, but didn’t say anything. She was feeling a lot of things she hadn’t experienced before and couldn’t properly name, and was having difficulty sorting through them. She stared hard at the paper for a few minutes. Hopper watched her quietly; he seemed to be giving her space to process all this and room to react. Perhaps preparing for a storm, if she wasn’t happy about the arrangement.

After a few minutes, she folded the paper again and gave it back, which he placed on the table next to the large brown envelope.

“What is that?” She asked.

Again, he didn’t answer immediately, and when he did, it was with a very heavy sigh.

“Well... since we’re family now, I figured I should introduce you two.”

He reached into the brown envelope and pulling out everything that was inside it. There were drawings, old elementary work sheets, coloring pages, but most of it was pictures. Sifting through, he extracted a photograph of a small, blonde-haired, blue-eyed child, wearing a frilly blue dress, smiling widely. Her curly hair was pulled up into two pigtails with aqua blue bands.

“Is that Sara?” Eleven asked tentatively.

Hopper nodded. “This was her first grade class photo. Just a month or two before everything went to shit.” He found another photo, in this one, Hopper was sitting with Sara and a blonde haired, blue-eyed woman who strongly resembled Sara. Hopper was clean-shaven in the picture, and they were all smiling.

Eleven pointed to the woman.

“That’s Diane,” Hopper said. “We were married. Then Sara died. Then we weren’t married anymore.”

“Why?”

“My fault mostly,” Hopper said, staring at the picture. “She wanted to move on, try and get her life back, but I couldn’t let go. I started drinkin’, lost my job because I stopped showing up, all kinds of things that she quite understandably didn’t want to deal with. I wouldn’t have wanted to deal with me, either.”

“Where is she?”

“Philadelphia. She got remarried a few years ago, had herself a new little baby boy. She’s doing good. She’s happy.”

He reached into the pile of papers and drew out another certificate, like the one Hopper got from Owens, but from a different state. The name on the top line was “Sara.”

“She’d be your sister,” He said, staring at the type font as though he couldn’t see anything else. “She’d have loved a sister.”

The emotions that had been swirling in Eleven’s body had settled, and of the remaining ones, the most prominent was sorrow. “What was she like?”

Hopper’s chin shook, and she thought he might not be able to talk about it, but he said, “She was so smart. Smarter than me. Got it from her mom, I guess. She’s so interested in science and space and all that stuff.” He plucked at the aqua blue bracelet around his wrist. A tear fell from his eye and disappeared into his beard.

“She was gonna grow up to be a paleontologist and also an astronaut doctor. Not an astronaut that was also a doctor, a doctor that only treated astronauts.“ He smiled. “She was gonna have thirty kids, but she wasn’t gonna get married cause boys were gross. She was going to do so many things.” More tears fell, and he wiped his nose on his sleeve. “She never got the chance to do anything.”

Emotions can be infectious, especially when the person exhibiting them was so stoic and self-contained ordinarily. Eleven could feel tears on her own cheeks as Hopper spoke.

“Her birthday was April 17th,” He said. “She would have been seven if she had made it that long. She nearly made it.” The tears were falling freely now. He didn’t even attempt to wipe them away. Eleven wondered if he had ever said these things to anyone. She knew vaguely that most people in town didn’t even know he had had a daughter.

“A few months after, I came home and Diane was packing up Sara’s room. Just pulling down everything and stuffing it into boxes. I asked what she was doing… and she said she was donating it. That she couldn’t stand looking at it all every day. And I got so… angry. It was like she was just throwing her away and I couldn’t believe she could do that. I over-did it a little; I yelled a lot, started throwing things. That’s when she kicked me out for the last time. That,” He pointed to the pile. “Was all I managed to save. That’s all that’s left of Sara.

“Well,” He said, “That and this.” He pulled the bracelet off of his wrist and toyed with it a little. ”She used to wear these stretchy blue hair bands, like, every day. She had all kinds of different bows and hair things she could’ve worn, but she always wanted these.

“One day, while she was on chemo, she pulled them out so she could take a bath, and all her hair came with them. After that, she couldn’t wear them anymore. I was going to throw them away, but she made them into a little bracelet and had me wear it. She said she wanted to save them for when her hair grew back.”

His face crumpled. Holding the little blue bracelet in both hands, he pressed it against his forehead and wept.

Eleven pulled herself up to her knees and hugged Hopper around the shoulders, crying into his neck. They stayed that way for some time.

When Eleven drew back, inexplicably, the blue bracelet was now circling her wrist. She looked at Hopper questioningly as she reached to pull it off.

He stopped her. “No, you should have it,” He said. “She’d want you to have it. I want you to have it, too. We’re family now.”

She smiled and her lip quivered. She nodded and looked at the bracelet. A tenuous connection to a sister she’d never meet. She looked at the two certificated on the table.

“Sara was your daughter,” Eleven said slowly, carefully. “Does this mean that I am, too?”

“Yeah,” He said, regaining composure. “That’s exactly what that paper means. You’re my daughter. I’m your dad. Officially.”

“Just officially?” Eleven said.

Hopper shook his head. “No, not just officially. If you want, it could be for real.”

“For real,” Eleven repeated. “Not like Papa.”

“No, not like Papa,” Hopper said seriously. “I know he wanted you to call him that, but was there ever a time when he called you his daughter? Treated you like a dad is supposed to?”

Eleven shook her head emphatically.

“No, because he doesn’t even know what it means. I doubt he’s ever really loved anything. Certainly not you.” Hopper looked down at the two certificates. “I loved Sara. And I love you, too, kid.”

Eleven had never once in her entire life heard those words. The swirl of emotions was back, but this time, the most out-standing one was joy. Incapable of speech, all she could do was smile and cry.

Hopper reached out an arm and Eleven hugged him around the middle, resting her head on his chest. He squeezed her tight with both arms and planted a peck on the top of her head. After some time had passed, they let go of each other, but she took his hand and held it. They both needed the comfort of touch right then.

Eleven dared to picked up a drawing and asked Hopper what it meant. He told her it was supposed to be a dog-velociraptor, laughing. It went on like this for several hours: Eleven would choose something from the pile, and Hopper would explain what it was; tell little, loving stories about Sara’s brief life, and then he would put it back into the envelope.

When they had gone through the entirety of the pictures and papers, all that was left were the two certificates sitting side by side on the table. The only thing they had in common was the line, “James Hopper: Father.” He folded them and put them both in the brown envelope and sealed it. This wasn’t just old memories anymore. It was proof, just like Hopper had said. The love of a man for his daughters.

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider buying me a Kofi, becoming a Patron, or donating directly to my PayPal!

Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

#Stranger things #Stranger things 2 #eleven #jane ives #jane hopper #jim hopper #chief hopper #chief jim hopper

[stranger-lex]

An Early Christmas (Byers Family Holiday)

request: How about some Byers family feels. There's never enough of that

The holiday season was never particularly easy for the Byers. Usually, Joyce worried about not being able to give her boys ‘good enough’ presents. Will and Jonathan could never find anything that would show their mom just how much they love her. The holiday season reminded them of their dad leaving, and while everyone was happier without him, it was hard. Joyce worried she wasn’t enough for her boys, and the boys saw how much stress their mom was under because of this fear. Nothing was ever communicated, which meant that while the holidays could be lovely, there was always a strained undertone. This year was different.

As 1985 came to a close, the Byers felt they had a lot to be thankful for. For the past two years, Will was claimed by the Upside Down. Finally, for the first time in what felt like forever, they were free of it. The constant worrying stopped. That Halloween, Joyce let Will go trick or treating with his friends alone. Will was finally beginning to feel like a regular kid.

Joyce mourned the death of Bob, and Jim Hopper was right there with her, every step of the way. Everyone, including Joyce, could see the love her felt for her, but he never pushed her. He never even mentioned it to her. Hopper respected the time she needed to grieve Bob, and he did his best to help her through of the worst of it. He remembered how he felt losing Sara. Joyce began to feel human again shortly after Bob’s death. Of course she missed him, and even a year later, she thought of him often. But she had her boy back, and she had Hopper, and everyday, she felt loved. She stopped worrying about whether or not she was enough for her boys and instead began to admire them. She had done it alone, and it had been incredibly difficult, but her work showed. She was so proud of the men her boys were becoming.

Jonathan was preparing to celebrate his one year anniversary with Nancy. Joyce helped him plan a romantic dinner with her, going with him to shop for her gift. He had found a beautiful bracelet he thought Nancy would love, and was elated when Joyce assured him it was the one. The bracelet would be given to her along with a collage of his favorite pictures of her and of them. There were a lot of late nights as he worked to make sure it would be the perfect gift, constantly asking Will and Joyce, and even Hopper, when he was around, their opinions on it. Everyone told him the same thing: it was perfect. It was beautiful. Most importantly, Nancy would love it. And she did.

For the first time in a long time, the Byers were excited about the holidays.

Joyce helped Will plan a Christmas party for his friends. Mike’s house was the usual hang out place, but the party loved being at Will’s house and getting to spend time with Mrs. Byers. There were a lot of bad memories at the Byers home, and there was an unspoken understanding that it was to be changed. The Byers home was filled with nothing but love. It was time that was shown.

At the same time, Jonathan and Will worked with Hopper to plan a holiday dinner for Joyce. Hopper was to take Joyce out for the day, and when they returned, her favorite dinner would be ready, made by Will, Jonathan, and Jane. The Hopper’s were family, and the kids understood that one day it would be made official. They were counting down the days.

It was an early Christmas dinner. Joyce’s mother planned to fly in for Christmas, and while everyone loved her, she did tend to create some tension in the house. The boys wanted to give their mother a stress-free Christmas, so they moved the date up a week and bought what they needed for her favorite dinner. Luckily, it snowed that day. Joyce loved a white Christmas.

The plan went perfectly. Hopper came by around noon, saying Jane wanted to hang out with Will. Because of their parents, the two of them had become extremely close, telling any new people they met that they were siblings. It wasn’t too out of the ordinary: Jane had spent so much time in the cabin, she was constantly calling the Byers residence and asking if she could come over. The cabin reminded her of a darker time. She could still feel the guilt of opening the gate in her chest, and was constantly trying to make it up to Will and Joyce and Hopper, and the rest of the party. Everyone had forgiven her. Will worked to help her forgive herself.

Jane loved the artwork Will produced. When the Hopper’s arrived at the house, Jane and Will immediately sat down to draw. It was becoming tradition. Will prefered sketching, but Jane prefered painting. Will had been saving up to buy her her own paint set. When he told Hopper about it, he beamed.

“That’s perfect. She can make all the artwork for the new house.”

“New house?” Joyce had asked, excited.

“There’s a lot of bad memories at the cabin, especially for her. I’ve been thinking about selling it, getting a place in the town. She should be around people. She should be a kid.”

A lot of secrets were being kept that holiday season. But all of them were kept with the best intentions, loving surprises coming out of them.

As Will and Jane sat down to work on their respective mediums, Hopper began to work on Joyce.

“Have you tried that new coffee shop we were talking about?”

“No! I didn’t even know it had opened!”

Hopper smiled, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and lighting one. “It opened yesterday. Let’s go grab a cup, my treat.”

Joyce took the cigarette out of his mouth, taking a drag. She coughed, which made him smile. She always coughed when smoking his cigarettes, but always took a drag when she saw him smoking one.

“I don’t know, I should stay here with the kids.” She waved the cigarette around as she spoke, looking into the kitchen where Will and Jane were working.

“I can stay with them.” Jonathan said from his spot on the couch. “I have some homework I need to finish up anyway. I’m not going anywhere.”

Joyce smiled widely. “Let me get my coat.”

It took a bit of effort. Jonathan, Will, and Jane were not professional cooks, or even necessarily good cooks. But they all did their best, wanting to give Joyce the best. And in the end, it turned out alright. Jonathan had managed to cook the chicken perfectly. Jane’s mashed potatoes were a little runny, and Will had taken the vegetables off the stove just a minute too quickly, but they had done it. Joyce was overjoyed when she came home to a mostly cleaned kitchen and a home cooked meal.

“For dessert, we got everything we need to make banana splits.” Jonathan said excitedly as he placed her plate in front of his mother.

“They won’t be from Danny’s, but we will try to make them taste the same,” Jane smiled, remembering Joyce telling them about her favorite ice cream parlor as a child.

“I hope you like it!” Will said as he put Hopper’s plate in front of him. “Tonight’s all about you, Mom. Whatever you want, we got.”

“Oh!” Joyce exclaimed happily, pulling Will in for a hug. She stood up, hugging Jonathan, and then walking around him to hug Jane. “Thank you guys. Really, everything looks delicious. I can’t wait to taste it!”

As they ate, Joyce asked about what Will and Jane had painted, and the kids talked excitedly about their creations. Joyce beamed at them and Hopper beamed at her, happy to see her so at peace. When they were done eating, Jonathan, Will, and Jane made everyone a banana split, and Joyce gushed as she assured them it was much better than any banana split she had ever had at Danny’s.

“Thank you so much for tonight. I love you all so much.” Joyce smiled as she stood up to hug the three kids again, empty ice cream bowls in front of each of them. “Really, tonight was perfect.”

“Oh, it’s not over yet.” Jonathan stood up, gesturing for everyone to follow him into the living room. He inserted a VHS into the machine and hit play.

“Do you always have to be filming everything?” Will asked, looking at the camera. Joyce two-stepped with her son to Jingle Bell Rock, teaching him how to dance before the Snow Ball.

“Oh no,” Jonathan said from behind the camera. “Just the good stuff.”

“Are you sure people still dance like this?” Will asked nervously as they continued to move in a circle around the cleared space in the living room.

“Oh yeah, it’s… it’s what’s happening.” Joyce replied easily.

“Is it what’s happening?” Will turned to ask the camera. Joyce looked at her son behind the camera. She smiled, her expression asking him to reassure his younger brother.

“Yeah, it’s what’s happening.” Jonathan promised, and Joyce raised Will’s arm to spin underneath it. She swung out, opening her arm and giving Will a dramatic smile. He began to laugh, which made her laugh. Jonathan’s chuckles could be heard as well.

The tape held Jonathan and Will’s favorite recorded moments with their mom from the past year. By the end of the video, Joyce was in tears.

“Thank you,” she cried, smiling as she hugged her sons again. “Thank you so much, I love it, I love you both so much.” She kissed each of their cheeks, holding them tightly.

“Merry early Christmas, Mom.” Jonathan smiled as he wrapped one arm around her, the other around Will.

“This is just a taste,” Will assured her. “There’s more later. But you deserved something now.”

Hopped watched the group hug from his spot on the couch. Jane gave him a knowing look, her eyes darting from his hand fiddling in his pocket to his face. He smiled at her, rolling his eyes playfully. When Joyce released her boys, he stood up.

“There’s one more surprise tonight,” he said nervously. He pulled the small velvet box out of his pocket, looking at Joyce as she reacted. Her face lit up, and more happy tears formed in her eyes. “Joyce--”

“Yes!” She exclaimed, making everyone laugh.

“Let me finish!” He chuckled, kneeling in front of her. “Will you--”

“Yes!” She said again.

“Mom!” Will and Jonathan said in unison.

“Sorry, sorry.” She looked at Hopper, giddy. “Okay, go.”

“Will you marry me?”

“Yes.” She said, and he stood up to kiss her before putting the ring on her finger.

Jane jumped up from her spot on the couch, hugging Will. “You’re going to be my brother!”

“And you’re going to be my sister! And it’s official now! Not just something we tell strangers.”

Jonathan laughed, pulling his siblings towards him. “I’m here too, you know.”

Jane quickly wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head on his chest. “Brothers.” She smiled as she reached for Will, pulling him into the hug.

Joyce was quick to join the group hug, pulling Hopper along with her. “This has been the best Christmas ever.”

“Christmas is next week. I told you, there’s more.” Will tried to remind her, but Joyce shook her head.

“I have everything I could ever want right here.”

#stranger things #will byers #jonathan byers #joyce byers #jim hopper #hopper #jane hopper #eleven #stranger things imagine #stranger things au #stranger things one shot #joyce x hopper #jopper

[talesfromthesnogbox]

It’s Okay to Not Be Okay

Summary: Jim Hopper knew it was a real emergency when he was woken in the night by a phone call from his son-in-law Mike from the hospital. All was not well, but Jim reminds Mike that sometimes it's okay to not be okay.

Notes: So I don't know why I hurt myself with these awful headcannons. I also don't know why I torture myself with writing when I 100% have no time to write so it was written at 1am :)

I have zero experience with any of this by the way, sick children and hospitals are foreign ground.

Please don't hate me for this? Sorry it ended up being so long?

“Joyce… Joyce… Joycie.” Jim shook his tiny wife awake.

She was angry, being woken in the middle of the night when he knew fully well that she had to work the next morning until she saw his face, filled with fear and worry. Her anger softened, as she looked up at him with concern in her sleepy eyes.

“The kids.”

If there was anything that could get Joyce out of bed in the dead of the night, it would be one of her children in danger. That included her’s and Hop’s adoptive daughter, El and her young family.

As a young teenager, the girl had been more than supportive of Jim and Joyce’s relationship, and of course, Joyce became the mother El never had. Joyce became Jim’s blessing in disguise, helping him navigate through raising a teenage girl on his own. El was the catalyst to their relationship, and in many ways, they were the perfect fit. They balanced each other out, showed each other reason, especially when El started dating that Wheeler kid.

“She’s too young.” Hop would lament, confiding in Joyce while their daughter sulked in her room. “She’s acting she’s gonna marry the guy. They’re fifteen, there’s no reason for all the… all the handsy stuff on my couch. He needs to respect that this is not his house and they’re way too young for all that… that…”

“Oh okay Hop, and how old were you when you were caught with a hand up someone’s daughter’s shirt?” Joyce fondly remembers giving him a look that turned him red. It was different when it was his kid. He was right, they were young, and he argued he was only looking out for his daughter, especially considering her naïve upbringing, but in hindsight, he was a little harsh on them. Especially considering they did end up married after all.

Which brought him to the present.

The Wheelers liked their sleep. The young couple was twenty-seven going on ninety with the way they turned in promptly at 11:00pm and stayed in bed as long as they could the next day. Their one and a half year old daughter Emily was probably part of the reason why they valued their sleep so much, but even the bouncing baby slept like a rock. So when Jim got a call from Mike at nearly three in the morning, he knew something was wrong.

When Jim and Joyce burst into the hospital waiting room, they instantly spotted their son-in-law.

Mike Wheeler was no longer the lanky teenager he used to be. The boy had grown to be nearly taller than Hop, and was just as hard headed. The two of them didn’t always see eye to eye, especially when it came to El and her wellbeing, but there was no arguing that the man would always be there for his daughter and her husband.

Mike did not look good. Puffy eyes, tearstained cheeks… he was beside himself with emotion. Joyce ran to him, enveloping the man she’d known since he was waist high in a comforting hug only a mom could provide. He was unembarrassed as he let the tears fall down his pale cheeks, and Joyce looked to Jim as he placed a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“How is she?” Jim asked in a quiet voice.

“I… I don’t know. They won’t say anything. Dr. Owens has a team here… they’re with her now but… but it doesn’t look good.”

Jim dropped his chin, looking to the ground willing his tears not to fall. He sniffed loudly, rubbing his eyes to play off the redness as allergies when her heard a small, tear-filled voice. “Daddy?”

Hop looked up to see his daughter, the strongest woman he’d ever known, completely break down.

“Ellie, come here.” He said, hugging her close to his chest and letting her tears fall. It was tough when she was thirteen, but it was somehow tougher to watch her cry at twenty-seven. It was even tougher still knowing exactly how she felt.

“I’m going to grab some coffees.” Mike told Jim three hours later. The four of them waited in the uncomfortable seats hearing nothing about the one and a half year old’s condition, and Mike needed a walk.

“I’m coming with you.” Jim replied. He’d gotten a brief rundown once everyone had calmed down. Something happened at home with Emily… something bad, but Jim had yet to get any details.

The little girl was special. Mike remembered feeling a burst of pride and a burst of fear when he’d caught the girl levitating some of her toys in front of her at just six months old. Sure, it was adorable, but he had no idea how dangerous it could become.

Jim and Mike walked in silence towards the cafeteria filled mostly with off-duty hospital personnel grabbing breakfast and a quick dose of caffeine before a long day’s work.

“So what exactly happened?” Hop asked unabashedly.

Mike sighed and ran his hand through his mess of curly hair. “Em woke us up around one this morning crying. El thought maybe she was hungry so we tried feeding her, we tried changing her diaper, rocking her. We tried everything but she just kept crying louder and louder until she was screaming. At one point, we thought she was going to pass out, she was screaming so much.” Hop could hear the tears in his voice, threatening to spill over once again. “Poor El, she’s such a good mom. She just kept bouncing her and rocking her… making funny faces to try to get her to crack a smile and stop screaming. I started getting annoyed. God knows why I tried to reason with an 18 month old, but then everything was floating, and her screams just got louder, blood started pouring from her nose, her ears, her eyes. Oh my god Hop it was horrifying, and then it all stopped. The screaming, the floating…” Hop could hear an edge to his voice. “Em just went limp in Ellie’s arms.”

Hop heard the edge in Mike’s voice, blood rushing from his face in fear for his granddaughter.

“I thought she’d just tired herself out at first, fallen asleep, but she wasn’t responding to anything, wasn’t breathing. Hop it scared me shitless… my little girl… we rushed her in, the team hooked her up, so many wires and tubes, then they took us outside, said we couldn’t be with her, that it didn’t look good. That’s the last we’ve heard.” Mike let out a sob and Jim gathered his son-in-law into his arms as he cried.

It was all too familiar. The sudden panic, rushing to the hospital, all those tubes and wires… it all brought him back to Sara. He knew exactly what Mike was feeling, and he knew how awful it was.

“Look, kid… the next few hours are going to be the toughest hours of your life.” His voice shook, but he tried to stay strong for the young man beside him. “I have faith in those people, they’ll bring her out of it, they’ll get her through and you and Ellie will be holding Em shortly.”

“But…” Hop dreaded the question he knew was coming, because he knew the possibility was totally valid. “But what if she doesn’t?”

“Kid, you can’t think like that.”

“Did you think like that?”

Jim sighed, knowing fully well he did. But that was different. Cancer… he had some time with her before she… Sara’s illness came quickly, but it was nothing like what Mike and El were going through now. He had some time to prepare himself, talked to doctors about what to expect, and in hindsight, he was thankful for that time.

“I did.” Jim admitted. “It’s hard not to when you’re in this situation.”

“I just… I don’t even know what to do right now. Ellie, she’s been quiet all night. I know she thinks it’s her fault that Emily has these powers. I don’t know how to comfort her knowing that maybe Em won’t be okay.”

The conversation felt all too familiar. The only difference was that Hop didn’t have anyone to talk to about it when he was in that exact situation. If he had, maybe his life would be different; maybe he wouldn’t have pushed Diane away and came back to Hawkins.

“I’m going to let you in on a little bit of wisdom from one man to another, and I hope you’ll take this not from El’s dad, but from a man who’s been where you’re sitting.” He started. “Every day… every single day of my life, I feel terrible for how I treated Diane.”

The younger man looked up at his father-in-law with a furrowed brow.

“Pain will make you do dumb things, kid. You’ll make an ass of yourself, say a lot that you regret, but you can’t let it get to you. No matter what happens, you need El, and she needs you. It’s going to be hard, trust me, it’ll be the hardest thing you’ll go through together, but you can’t push her away. Don’t be like me.”

Mike looked straight ahead and fiddled with his wedding band, letting his tears flow down his cheeks.

“I never wanted to admit this to you because you were always such a smug little bastard as a teenager, but you’re really good for her Mike. You’ve got a good heart, and I know you want to be there for Ellie. It’s okay to not know how to make her feel better, and it’s okay to be angry and upset. Just know that she’s feeling all these things too. Let her in, don’t try to work it all out on your own and don’t pretend to be strong… it’s okay to not have all the answers and break down every once and a while.” Hop swallowed the lump in his throat. “She’s your wife and she loves you. She made a vow to you, for better or for worse, and I know my Ellie, she’ll stick to it.”

Mike choked out a sob and leaned into the former police chief. “I love her so much, I just hate seeing her in pain.”

“I know, kid, I know.”

The younger man wiped his eyes and rose to his feet, heart pounding in his chest. “I’m an idiot. I shouldn’t have just left her up there.”

“You’re not. Go back to her, I’ll grab us all a little something.”

He turned to walk around. “Hey chief?” Jim regarded him with raised eyebrows. “Thanks for this.”

“No problem Mike. Now go see your wife.”

--

Just as he suspected, Jim returned to the waiting room to find El huddled close to Mike on those uncomfortable chairs, his fingers running through her dark locks as he hummed to her. Kid was a fast learner.

“Is she okay?” He asked Joyce, handing her a cup of coffee.

“She’s terrified for her baby girl. And Mike?”

“Same.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler?” Mike gently shook El, and everyone anxiously rose to their feet. The doctor’s face was unreadable, but hope bubbled in Jim’s heart for his granddaughter.

“Come with me, you can see her now.” El let out a breath and took Mike’s hand. She looked back at Jim and Joyce before disappearing through the doors to see their daughter.

#mileven #mike wheeler x eleven #jopper #jim hopper x joyce byers #don't hate me for this? #cause I already hate myself enough for this? #when the fuck did I decide to start writing ST fics??? #my writing

[lazycollectionofcoffee]

You’re Not Alone

For my Tumblr people this is chapter 3, but on Archive it will be seen as chapter 4

Summery:

This is right after El closes the Gate. We start with Mike, and what it’s like while he waits for Hopper to come back with El. There will be an exploration into the world as El tries to not only figure out where she belongs, but also who she is.

“Okay,” Hop said as they walked over the trip wire. The air had felt colder today than it had the days before, she didn’t know if that was because she felt slightly empty again or if it was really the weather changing. The door of the cabin sat wide open, the wooden boards over the windows were still there, and it didn’t look like home anymore; just an old wooden hut that was abandoned. “I think the first thing I’ll have to do is fix this door.” They walked up the steps of the front porch; El let her feet fall heavier than they needed to.

               Glancing from the door way she could see the mess that was made from before. Heaters sitting in a circle, Hops bed a mess, their sitting room didn’t look like it used to. She peered into the kitchen, noticing the old Eggo box that had been thrown in the trash can, but other than that nothing had changed there.

               Her bedroom door was slightly ajar. She slowly walked through the cabin to get to it. She opened the door slowly to see her bed the way that she had left it; the teddy bear Hopper had given her resting on top of the blanket. She walked over and picked it up, thinking about what Hopper had told her in the car on the way to the Lab.

               “Sara,” he had said in a sad voice. “Sara’s my baby girl.”

              She let the teddy fall onto the bed, realizing that he had given her his daughters toy with trust, and she had been rude enough not to care as much as she should have. She sat on her bed next to it, looking around her room. Her book case had a few books that she had started, but never finished. She had a snow globe on a shelve that hung from the wall. It held a large castle on the inside of the glass, and every time she tipped it upside down it would snow.

               “What do you say kiddo,” Hop interrupted her thoughts, walking into her door way. He still wore the cloths he had on the night before. His chief jackets covered a green hospital shirt underneath. “I was thinking you could clean the sheets; maybe move some furniture around while I went to the supply store to get stuff to fix the door.”

               “I can do that,” she said quietly. Hop moved to leave half way turning his back. “Jim?” he stopped and turned to her. She picked up the teddy bear, looking at it in her lap. “What did she name it?” She asked looking back up at him.

               “The teddy bear?” he came into the room, sitting next to her on the bed; picking up the teddy bear to look at it. “She had this obsession with names that started with S’s. She named almost all her dolls Suzy and Sally because she thought those were the best names, but when I gave her this teddy bear she told me it was a boy. She names him Aaron, but would call him Air.” He slightly looked off into the distance; El could see a memory form in his eyes and wondered what she must have been like. “She always had trouble breathing.” Hop looked down at the bear one last time, handing him back to El and standing from the bed. “I should only be forty or so minutes, it shouldn’t take too long.” And at those words he was out of her room, and down the front steps. She listened to his feet hit the dead leads until she couldn’t hear him anymore.

               Mike sat in his basement, sitting on the couch with his walkie in his hand. He knew it was too early to try and talk to El, but he honestly couldn’t wait any longer. He had only gotten home an hour ago. His mom made a slight comment about not having kids anymore since they are never home, but Mike ignored her as he went up the steps to the bathroom; he really needed a shower.

He had spent more time in the shower than he needed. He watched as the dirt fell from his skin and down the drain. He couldn’t believe what he had just gone through. It was like an actually game of D&D, and they had won; even though it didn’t feel like winning.

It wasn’t until he was in his room to change, when he looked at his bunkbed, his desk, and all the pictures that hung on his wall that he realized he felt heartbroken. He had so many things that were his and his alone, but to live a life with nothing; he couldn’t image. So, he went down stairs, into the basement, and there he sat with his walkie on the wrong channel. Thinking about when he could talk to her, and what he should say.

“Hey!” Mike jump nearly out of his skin as Nancy game down the stairs.

“Jesus Nancy,” Mike said angrily. “Are you trying to scare me to death?”

“Sorry,” she said. “I just thought I would let you know that Will woke up. He said he was feeling tired and a little out of it, but nothing out of the ordinary.” Mike gave a slight huff, nothing out of the ordinary my ass, he thought. “Mom wants us to have an early dinner. She setting the table right now,” she slowly turned back around, moving up the steps but stopping in the middle. “If you ever want to talk,” she turned her head to look at Mike. “You can talk to me. I don’t really know much about her, but I would like to.” Mike gave a sad smirk looking back down at his walkie, and turning it off.

“Thanks,” he said. He stood from his spot of the couch, putting the walkie on the coffee table before following Nancy up the stairs.

His mother made one of his favorite meals, ham, mashed potatoes, and corn. He looked down at his plate, not really wanting to eat. He placed the tip of his fork in and out of his potatoes, looking at Holly who tried her best at spooning corn into her mouth. Several cornels fell into her lap as she tried to use one hand to guide the spoon and the other to keep the cornels in place.

“So,” his mom said. She adjusted her napkin in her lap.” What’s going on with Will?” She looked up at Mike, her eyes filled with concern and curiosity.

“He was just having a slight nervous break I guess,” Mike said, slouching down into his seat. “He was having flash backs to last year, but now he’s feeling a little bit better.”

“Yes well, who wouldn’t.” she said picking up her fork. “Maybe I’ll bring Joyce some casserole tomorrow. That poor woman’s been through enough.”

“The boy should be put on meds,” his father chirped in. “They have pills for anything these days.”

“Ted!”

“What? The poor boy can’t even sort through his own thoughts. He needs something to help him out.” Ted looked back down at her dinner. Mike stole a glance at Nancy who gave him one right back.

“How was your girls weekend Nancy? Did you have fun?” His mother moved on in the conversation. Nancy made up a story about how they spent their time watching movies and talking gossip. Mike looked back to his food, thinking about the lab, about Bob, and most of all about almost being killed nearly every step of the way.

Dinner lasted nearly thirty minutes, Mike helped Nancy with some dishes before speeding back down into the basement. He grabbed his walkie, going into the makeshift tent that lay against the wall. He hid under the sheets, bringing up the antenna, and turning it on with the twist of the nob. He let out a slow breath, not knowing if he should start talking or just wait a little bit longer. He slumped his back against the wall.

“El,” he said into the speaker. “I don’t know if your listening yet.” He sat for a moment in silence, trying to see if the lights would flicker, or if anything would be said back. “I can’t stop thinking about…everything. I’m almost certain I saw something in shadows of my room earlier, but I think I’m still a little jumpy.” He brought the walkie away from his mouth, waiting before talking again. “Are you scared? I guess I am, but if I wasn’t then I guess something would be wrong with me.” He sat a little longer in silence, letting his mind wonder to the far reaches of his thoughts.

“I guess I just wanted to say goodnight. I hope you get some rest, and I hope you’re feeling better.” He listened to the static a little bit longer. “Goodnight El.” He hit the antenna down with the palm of his hands, moving out of the fort, he stood from his place looking back down at the fort, before turning around and walking back up the stairs.

El sat on her bed putting on two pairs of socks on one foot. Since the windows were still broken they had to go with the cold breeze moving through the cabin, and the later into the night it got, the colder her toes felt. She looked through her bedroom door at Hopper, he slumped over the small fire place a new log through the opening. She gathered her blanket from her bed; throwing it over her shoulder and picking up the bear as she started to walk out of her bed room.

She had spent a good portion of the afternoon moving around furniture, and sweeping the wooden floors. She took all the files she had thrown around the sitting area and placed them carefully back into the box, hiding it in the crawl space under the floor. She moved everything by hand, which at first didn’t sounds as bad, but once she starting moving the couch she started to realize how weak she really was.

She didn’t want to tell Hopper, but her head had been hurting all day. She could feel her limbs not wanting to put work in, and every time she walked her leg muscles let out a twinge of pain that she didn’t want to feel.

She took a seat on the couch, hugging her knees to her chest. Hop took a set on his bed just next to her, taking off his shoes, placing them to the side. He put his hands over his face, rubbing his eyes before looking up at El.

“You look like shit,” he said tiredly. She raised her eye brows, eyeing him. “I’m sure I do too. You sleep on the couch tonight; the cold shouldn’t be too bad next to the fire.” She nodded her head, adjusting herself to lay her head on the armrest. She could hear Hop move around on the bed, he sighed as he got comfortable and she did the same. “I have a full day tomorrow,” he said to her through the darkness. “I’ll have to wake up early and maybe come home later than I would want to, but hopefully by the end of the day I’ll have some glass for the windows.” El nodded her head again, realizing that he couldn’t see her, but was becoming too tired to use her voice. She gave her bear a slight squeeze letting her eye lids fall.

 She wanted to see Mike, but she had never been able to see him while she slept. She walked through the blackness, her sock covered feet becoming wet, but she couldn’t feel it. She started walking straight, not hearing or seeing anything around her. The drips of her feet echoed through her ears.

 “El,” she heard Mikes voice. “I don’t know if you’re listening yet.” She turned in circles, looking for anything in the darkness that she could walk to. A shape was forming far to her left, she quickly moved towards it.

 “Mike!” she said, her voice echoing loud.

 “Please,” El stopped in her steps. A female’s voice rang through the nothingness. “I’m so tired.” She could hear faint whimpers as she slowly started to move towards the figure again. A girl, hunched over in her bed, her knees to her chest. It was the same girl from the night before, her head was shaved, and her arms were rimmed red from rope burn.

 “You have to come,” a woman she didn’t recognize came from her right, taking the girls arms and began to try and force her out of bed. “Do you want me to get the guys to drag you out?” The woman asked her in a harsh voice.

 “No,” the girl quietly whispered. “I just want to sleep.”

 “You’ve been sleeping all day. This isn’t up for debate; we have more tests to run.” The girl let out a small cry as the woman pulled her from the bed. “Help,” the older woman screamed. She could hear men in the distance talking, but couldn’t see anyone else with them. All around her walls began to form, the black obis that she normally stood in starting to form into an actual room. The walls were yellow, and cold. Nothing sat in the small square room except for a bed.

 “Please don’t let them do this,” the girl cried. She struggled in the woman’s arms, but her small frame wasn’t enough to get free. El hurried forward, ready to aid her if she could. The girl struggled, hissing at the burns being pulled at from her arms. El felt the pain sting her arms, she looked down to find red burns form on her. “Please,” the girl sobbed, she stopped her movement as El bent in front of her. They looked into one another’s eyes. “Please,” El put her hand out to her, near her face. Before she could touch her everything turned to cloud, evaporating in front of her eyes.

 She sat on her knees, looking around her, tears falling onto her cheek. What was happening? How was this happening? Who was this girl? Why could she feel her pain?

 “El,” Mike’s voice echoed all around her. She looked up from her daze, standing from her knees. A shape appeared in front of her, Mike. She slowly walked forward; she could feel her toes becoming cold. “I don’t know if you’re listening yet,” he said into his walkie. She took a set in front of their fort, watching as he stared a head, straight through her. “I can’t stop thinking about,” his pause made her look around slightly, nervous that someone was watching. “Everything. I’m almost certain I saw something in the shadows of my room earlier, but I think I’m just jumpy.”

 “Jumpy,” El said to herself. She knew the word jump, but the way he was using it confused her. “Jumpy?” She asked him, forgetting they weren’t in the same room.

 “Are you scared?” he asked slightly quiet. She thought about the question.

 “Yes,” she said looking down at her hands. Her arms showed traces of red, where rope could have been.

 “I guess I am,” he continued on. “But if I wasn’t I guess something would be wrong with me.” They both sat in silence for a few seconds. El thought about being scared, about what she was scared of. Words she didn’t know, the dark, being alone. “I guess I just wanted to say goodnight. I hope you get some rest, and I hope you’re feeling better.” El let out a slight cry. “Goodnight El.” He slammed the metal down with his hand and stood from his spot.

 El moved out of his way, scared that her touch would make him disappear.

 “Mike,” she cried, slowly following him. His color was fading, his features less visible. “I’m listening.” She put out her hand to catch his, but as soon as he evaporated she opened her eyes.

  The fire had dimmed slightly, and even though she was wearing two socks on each foot her toes were still cold. She had fallen asleep with her head closes to Hop, but ended up waking up on the other side of the couch. The blanket she had been using was on the floor, and the bear she had been clutching was nowhere in sight. Even though she was shivering, she didn’t pick it up her blanket.

Her arms were burning, but as much as she wanted to look at them, she was too scared. She didn’t want this to be the reality; that even into the dark corners of where she escaped to she could still get hurt. She didn’t know what was happening. She had never felt this kind of connection to anything before, and the more she thought about it the more it scared her.

Hop let out a soft snore, giving El a little comfort that she wasn’t alone. She looked over at the T.V.; becoming sad that it was broken, and it would still be a couple of days before Hopper could fix it. She sat up from her seat, looking into the kitchen and all along the walls. For some reason something felt different. The feeling of safety that she had when she lived here before didn’t remain, and all she could feel was a dark shadow looming over her.

“Can’t sleep kid?” Hops soft tired voice startled El. She looked over at Hop with a slightly pissed expression; he gave a small laugh before sitting up. He grabbed his watch, which he tucked into his shoe before going to bed, and read the time. “4 in the morning,” he yawned. “I guess I’ll get up a little earlier than expected.” He stood from the bed, walking over to the bathroom and started the shower. “Go back to sleep kid,” he said leaning in the door way. “You need to rest.”

“Yeah,” she said back. She took the blanket from the floor, rapping herself up and looked around for the teddy bear; she couldn’t find it anywhere. She sighed. Giving up her search and laid her head back down to fall asleep.

Hopper looked over at El sleeping on the couch. He let out a sigh, because weather he liked it or not, she had become someone in his life that he thought he would never get back. He didn’t want to leave her for the day; she still had dark circles under her eyes and the lack of food she had consumed since the last time he had seen her was concerning, but if he wanted to get to the bottom of how he was going to fix this he needed to start sooner rather than later. So, he took a few quiet steps to the front door, put his hat on his head, and locked what locks he could before walking out into the cold.

He took two steps from the porch before realizing something was off, and turned around to see what it was. Sitting off to the side of the last step sat Aaron the teddy bear. He walked up to it and picked it up. Dew was starting to form on the fur and it was cold, like it had been sitting out in the open for hours. He looked back to the front door, wondering what she had been doing outside in the middle of the night. He took a few glances around the surrounding forest trying to find anything suspicious.

He walked back up the steps and unlocked the door, slowly walking into the dark cabin. El was still lying where he had left her, her face barely visible from the blanket. He took a few steps into her room, placing the bear on her bed, looking down at it sadly.

 “He’s a boy,” he heard his daughter giggle. “I’m going to name him Aaron.”

“Are you okay,” Hopper jumped in his spot, spinning around fast to see El standing with her blanket wrapped around her.

“Yeah kid,” He said clearing his throat. He ruffled her hair as he pasted her. “Make sure your eating breakfast and lunch.” He yelled before walking out the door.

#stanger things #mileven #eleven #mike wheeler #jim hopper #jim hopper and eleven #Nancy Wheeler #jonothan byers #Joyce Byers #will byers #dustin henderson #Lucas Sinclair #max #steve harrington #fanfiction #science fiction #fun #possibly Jopper

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Boys & Girls (Sriracha, Part 40.)

Series 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 let you far away from all the trouble.

Part Summary: Family life suited you both and what was better, this time it was going to work out for real.

A/N: And we are officially back in business with ma boi Jim. Also, greatly inspired by Jim Croce since Hopper really loved his music.

Warnings: Weepnig and whining messes on the end of the chapter.

Word count: 4K

Tagging: @nemodoren @missdictatorme @ysljordy @creedslove​ @hopperlover​

Series master list: H E R E

GIF SOURCE

Even if the things were slowly settling down, with you and Jim being definitely in the honeymoon phase again and not being engaged for some unknown reason, it still took some to make all the things right again. You needed to help Jim with making a new ID, you had quite a long scrum with the bank and authorities to even believe that Jim is really and Jim just for him to get a hold on his former conto with the money you both saved over the time. You didn't have access to the money since James was the account holder - but at the end of February, you finally were allowed to use the money and you started to look for a new home - it was incredibly awkward that you both had to live at your parents’ house no matter how many times your ma told you it’s fine.

Jim started to visit a therapist and group therapy sessions in a nearby town and so far, it was doing him justice. He felt better to know some more Vietnam veterans who've been through the same thing he was through - these men had gone through. He called his former colleague Rosario Delgado to ask her about her well being - it was almost ten years since the New York incident and she stopped sending him Christmas postcards. James was trying to get his life together; he wanted to sort everything out after almost twenty years. And he was doing good.

You proceeded to study at the university, still having your old part-time job at the bistro, being there at least three days a week. Jim’s salary of a police officer wasnt bad, not at all, but it still was a downgrade from his Chief salary. It wasn’t that you suddenly were on the edge of poverty, especially with your savings, but you felt the missing money - especially when you were looking for a flat in the downtown. But in the end, you hadn't settled down on a flat; you chose a small house which was still significantly closer to the downtown than the suburban houses.

It was nice - this wasn’t his trail or his cabin where he had already been moved in; this was the first time when you chose, paid, and started to live on a place together. This was the fresh start drawing a flat line behind the Hawkins Lab incident, behind Russia, behind both Vietnam and New York - with endless love, Jim was leaving Sara and Diane behind.

The first few weeks in the house were the best - you hadn't got any TV, any couch, not even a bed or a wardrobe. You had only one mattress on the floor where you were sleeping, a few kitchen appliances, boxed with all of your stuff, and an old gramophone. You couldn't count the running shower which was already there. When you weren't at work or school, you were painting the walls on your own since you didn't exactly have the money to pay a professional painter.

"This is supposed to be a pomelo orange? Are you sure about that? Haven't you took a different bucket on accident?" - Jim yelled at you while you were swabbing a room you decided to have a living room in. You stopped your work and swiped the sweat off your forehead, listening to Jim Croce’s Operator. You unpacked each of James’ Jim Croce vinyl records and moved it into your new place as well, usually listening to Croce while you were working.

James was looking healthier and healthier with each passing month - he gained a few pounds, you couldn't see his ribs anymore, he let his hair grow and his significant ’83 beard was back again. He was looking hot, especially in an unbuttoned shirt and a new Jim Croce shirt you ordered him for his name day - which was more than three months away, but you loved it so much that you couldn't stop yourself.

He was standing there looking at the wall, the orange paint was all over his body, but not on his shirt as he held the paint roller in his palm. Yeah, you could see what he was talking about - it was more peachy than a pomelo, but you liked it nonetheless. - "Maybe it’ll be looking better once it dries up, hm?" - You whispered and hugged him from behind slowly. You were still careful with the touches and freaking him out, but it was undeniable that it got better. Gently, you kissed his shoulder and smiled at the work he had done.

"It looks great Hopper." - You nodded with a grin. He circled his palms around yours and swayed his hips in the rhythm of the song. You did so as well. Slowly, he turned around to face you, smiling down on you. You smiled back, expecting a kiss - only to have the paint rolled all over your face. You closed your eyes and grunted angrily.

"Oh yea, I can see the pomelo color now. I think you were rite. Why don't you have more clothes in this color? It suits you." - Jim grinned before he pressed his face to yours so some of the paint pressed on his skin too.

"This was unnecessary - so now, I will angrily continue the things I was up to before you called out." - You said with fake drama in your voice, being the drama queen you always were. You had already put your arms from his hips, pulling away, when he leaned in for a kiss. You felt the paint on your tongue, which was indeed disgusting.

"It was completely necessary, in my defense, miss Y/L/N." - James yelled at you after a while. You chuckled, yelling back at him why he thinks so, continuing with cleaning up the room. - "Isn't that obvious? My girlfriend now has to take a shower before the paint settles down in her hair and since I have it on my face too, you know that does that mean." - Jim suddenly stood up the doorframe, watching you on the floor trying to clean up the fucking wooden floor.

A burst of unbelieving laughter came out of your lips as you watched him. - "This is a genius move for a dumbass like you, Hopper, I gotta say. But you'll have to play Speedball Tucker if you want to see me undressing." - You stood up and bit your lip, having Jim already walking to the gramophone.

"Why is it that this song does things to you?" - Jim asked and stopped the music to put in Life & Times by Croce. You shrugged your shoulders with a nasty smile, already unbuttoning the first buttons.

"I don't know. Maybe it’s because you hum it all the time? But play me You Don't Mess Around With Jim in the bed and I'll show you things you haven't seen yet." - Your short snort resonated through the living room as you turned around to walk to the bathroom. - "You sure will." - Jim snorted back, already throwing his shirt on the floor.

Eleven was over her heels when she came to visit Hawkins on spring break with Joyce. While Joyce was staying at your mum’s, her sons were at Wheelers’, Eleven was staying at your place in her room - it was also the only room which was finished - she had a bed there, a bookshelf for schoolbooks and comic books, a large table you bought on a flea market with a chair in the pair and you told her that she can have some posters and as many photo frames as she wants to. It still needed small touches, but it also meant one thing. It was a silent promise that soon enough, you'll be a family again.

In the end, you decided to put up some of Sara's photos. You knew it was really important Jim, but you needed to talk him down into it. You loved one of the photos from her kindergarten which you put up in the kitchen. When Joyce saw that you hung the picture up, her eyes teared up as she smiled. It also sparkled a rather interesting conversation between you and James.

"How was it like?" - You asked when you were preparing dinner. Jim was sitting at the improvised table; you still had an empty living room, hall and the master bedroom was consisting of the mattress only. He looked up from a detective novel he was reading, looking up at you.

"What? You mean seducin' you? I'm a piece of cake so you gave in pretty easily." - He grinned, having a smile from ear to ear. It was around five p.m. and Eleven was soon about to come home. Tomorrow, you had a family dinner at Enzo's in the plan - Mike was supposed to come, Aiden and Lena drove from New Orleans in the evening.

"Hold your horses. A) you're wrong because I'm a sex bomb and you were all over the place from me and b) no, I don't mean this... I mean... How was it like to have such a small baby girl?" - You answered from concentrating on having the pepper perfectly cut. Hopper closed the book, holding the page with his fingers. His eyes widened and cheeks filled when he slowly inhaled some air.

"It's somethin' you can't even describe. It's fillin' up to the bottom of your soul, you more than love every second of it. When the child hugs you, you just feel sorta warm next to your heart. You only want them to be safe and happy every day, you'd do every little thin' just to see them smile." - Hopper got out with noticeable pauses - he wasn't good with his words, but you could hear that he means every letter of what he had said.

"That sounds just... Lovely." - You sighed and let's be honest, the smile on your face was freaking James out. He was watching you without looking away. - "What would you say..." - You bit your lip and looked Jim in the eyes. Hopper's eyes widened almost unnoticeable.

"If you'd have a chance to do it again?" - You whispered and at that moment, Eleven entered the house, so panicked Hopper didn't have a chance to answer. Playfully, you rose your eyebrows happily and turned back to the pepper. - "Just think about it, yeah?"

Of course, this was about to come. You were young, your thirties were almost six years away and one day, this question was about to come his way. Kids. You never talked about having kids - you already had one. But not about really settling down to have a real family life. With small kids.

Was James even ready to try it again? Or was he simply too old to raise a kid? Or two of them? Sure, you'll soon be done with university and your parents would help you with every little thing you'd ask them, yet James couldn't forget that this was Hawkins in Indiana. This place was dangerous. Especially for James Hopper.

But you said it out loud. That you want to have kids. Sure, El was your kid, your baby girl and you'd kick ass to anyone who'd try to harm her. But there was an itsy bitsy thing - you didn't give birth to her which could do a lot. You proclaimed her as your rightful kid, you were written down in her birth certificate.

James was out of the world for both the following evening and he was even more stressed out the other day when you were supposed to go to Enzo's.

Your question had pulled some damn switch inside of him; he wasn't able to properly fall asleep the whole night thinking about the kid thingy. The only thing James could say for sure was that if you'd have a girl, she would look like an angel; because you were one. But that wasnt all.

"Are you having nightmares or what's wrong with you?" - You mumbled from somewhere under your blanket. You mostly were doing that during winter and in the early spring - only your head could be seen because your whole body was curled up under the blanket to keep you warm. You moved around a bit before Jim could register your face.

"Should somethin’ be wrong with me?" - James hummed and brought you closer to warm you up. You were as cold as ice. Carefully, you wrapped your leg around his waist, leaving out a long sigh.

"You're turning around all the time and make the mattress move. Something on your mind, Hop?" - You yawned and put your temple on his shoulder, closing your eyes again. You were smiling without realizing; just smelling him and feeling him close was making you happy. And you fell asleep again almost immediately.

Jim wanted to ask you to marry him on the family, this time, he made sure he adhered to the traditions - first, earlier that day when he was dropping El at your parents’ house before she was supposed to see Mike, he talked with your father. Both he and Molly couldn't understand why did he cancel the engagement in the first place, just to ask them.

He did the best to tell them that he's now trying to turn his life around, starting from a literal zero - he contacted his old colleagues like Rosario and Vietnam comrades, he said goodbye to Sara, bought the house with you and renovated it. James just wanted a new life and he wanted to start it in the right way with you by his side. That was what made your dad give him his blessing.

On top of that, you were controlling how much did he smoke and how much Tuinal did he take - it wasn’t meant in a bad way and James knew that - he was just fucking grateful that you took the role of his guardian angel. You couldn't be described any other way than being a guardian angel.

But if he proposes to you, then marries you... Kids were just the next step, right? When Jim finally fell asleep, it was while he held your waist and tried to think about what would it look like. James was almost forty-four years old. He would be sixty when the kid would be sixteen, sixty-four when they would be twenty. Which was horrifying and more than that. He was thirty when Sara was born which was an ideal age in his opinion. He was thirty-seven when she died. Would he be even able to be a good dad? Jim thought that he was in a fairly good condition, thanks to his police work, but a kid...  

The other evening, Jim put on his best shirt and tuxedo, looking at himself in the mirror as he was adjusting the small details - this tuxedo he had at the first family dinner in your house. Eleven peaked into the room before she entered.

She was a grown-up since the last time James had seen her - she had longer hair, she was more tanned, taller and even her face seemed to be more adult. James admired that Eleven was always an adult in some way. Ever since Jim met her, in some things, she was drastically more matured than kids her age - she knew things people her age didn't have a single idea about. Yet now it seemed that her personality had deepened even more than before.

Eleven had a nice dress on and you helped her put her hair in a messy bun. She smiled at James and checked that the door is closed.

"Are you okay?" - She asked excitedly. Right at the moment, you were in the living room with Mike and you two were chatting while drinking some lemonade you made. He was supposed to make you occupied while Eleven went to check up on Hopper.

"How can I be okay?" - Hopper said with an unnerved laugher and went to sit down on your bed. Eleven laughed as well and sat next to him; she hugged his shoulder and shook him a bit.

"Mom said yes before and she loves you. She will say yes again, I'm sure." - Eleven smiled and put her temple on Jim's shoulder, letting him kiss the back of her head. She could now speak as kids her age did. Eleven was talking fluently, without hesitation, but yes, sometimes she still thought about how to put a sentence in a certain way. - "Grandpa said yes too, he knows you two should be together."

"How did you come to that conclusion, kiddo? Hm?" - Jim chuckled at her words. He knew what Eleven was trying to tell him, but it was too adorable not to make fun of.

"I've heard that in a movie I was watching with Joyce and Will." - She smiled and at that moment, they both turned their heads to the door, hearing as you called out for them. It was time to go. Eleven got up first, giving her palm to Hopper to help him get up. - "You can do it. Its just one question."

"Geez, you're a smart one, kiddo." - Hopper chuckled, following her out of the room. You and Mike were waiting under the staircase. Even if Jim saw you before and he knew how would you look like, he was wonderstruck when he saw you in your blue dress with your hair styled masterfully.

"What were you two up to, huh?" - You asked both of them, tying up his tie again, properly this time. - "Are you having secrets again?" - You joked, making Eleven smile innocently as she stood up next to Mike and entwined her elbow with his. After taking too many photos and embarrassing the hell out of Mike, Jim laid in with his dad jokes that time, yo rode to the restaurant.

Mike on the backseat was visibly sweating. He always thought that Eleven has Hopper and you - he forgot that you have a brother and parents. If he was worried about something, it was that he won't make a good first impression. Which would embarrass him to death? Yet, you were telling the whole time that he's perfectly fine. It was strange to realize that Aiden was only six years older than them. That wasn’t too much. And you weren't much older either.

Seeing your family gather around one table was a thing that made you so happy, that smiled didn't leave your face the whole afternoon. Mike, in the end, was happy too - he and Eleven befriended your cousin Andrea who was at their age, so these three had so many to talk about and so did you, the adults sitting there. The food in Enzo’s was delicious and this time, you hadn't got any surprise which would make faint. Even the fine wine you loved so much was ordered and Jim offered that this time, he would drive home - which meant that you had nothing to be worried or angry about.

Everyone shut up when a man stood up from the chair he was sitting on and you were looking at him with awe. Your palm circled Jims as you watched your younger brother getting himself to propose to his girlfriend. Which was kinda scaring Jim, since that was his plan that evening?

The things Aiden told her were one of the sweetest you had ever head. With a contained smile, you leaned to James’ shoulder, watching Aiden getting on his knee with a face that was showing his emotions. He was lost over the heels for Lena, his heart was surely beating for her. You didn't notice your dad having intense eye contact with Jim since he was waiting for the older man to do the exact thing his son had just done.

And you asked what's wrong when Jim took a deep breath in, trying not to faint. He was stressed. He was facing stress. The last time he was doing this was behind a locked door to his office. Not in a restaurant, let alone your family being present.

"Jim, are you having a heart attack?" - You put your palms on his jaws, looking at his reddened cheeks and completely sweaty forehead. Hopper shook his head, having his eyes widening with each passing second. It was now or never situation. Naturally, everyone was extra-surprised when Hopper suddenly stood up as well and exhaled loudly.

It didn't take you too much time to figure out what's happening there. You had seen him this nervous once already and boy oh boy, here it was again. It was nice and you knew that most likely, he had encouraged himself for weeks before he was ready to get on that damn knee again.

"My dear Y/N." - He started, watching your father as if the man would tell him what should he say next - and the funniest part was that your father watched him as well in the same way. Then Jim’s palm took a hold on the back of your chair, the man leaning down a bit. The guests inside Enzo’s were nervous. One proposal was a classic, but two at once? That was extraordinary.

"I want... To... Tell you..." - Jim started slowly as he tried to get his self-confidence back. You nodded and caught his other palm to show him that he's fine. Nothing could ruin his moment. - "I love you. Very much. And that I know you hadn't got it exactly easy with me past couple of months. And neither of the people had it easy with us. It's just how it is, and I'm grateful for everything you've been willing to give me - family, a new home, the feeling of being safe, and useful. You made me see a million things I haven't seen before meeting you and I have to thank you and your family for that." - Jim looked around nervously, having you still smiling in front of him.

Joyce surely wrote this speech too. She was a mister of romantic words full of love, which wasn’t exactly Hopper’s area. He was more about showing love than telling the words yet you liked that about him. This was just Joyce’s work.

"And for that, I would be honored," - Was the part where he got on his knees finally and this time, it felt like a proposal for a wedding. Not some Hopper’s ’I would be up for marriage if you want to’. This looked like a real ’Do you want to spend the rest of your life by my side?’, which brought happy tears to your eyes. - "If you'd like to become my wife and have me by your side until the day we both get old and wrinkly."

That was maybe the best Hopper could get out of himself, but let's be honest, it left you a whining and nodding mess, since you couldn't say a single word at that moment. The last thing you remembered clearly from that evening was when Hopper gently picked you up from the ground when you had the ring on, weeping here and there as well.

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