#or Hopper from stranger things

[sunny-aster]

They're such wildly different examples of what an emotionally tired person looks like

[kennahjune]

Having thoughts of The Party being touchy as all fuck after everything.

Like you cannot enter nor leave any kind of hang out without a hug, high-five, pat, or anything from everyone you were hanging out with.

And then, suddenly, you aren’t able to leave without a kiss or hug of some kind from Steve.

It started after the bullshit that was the Starcourt Mall. The kids were leaving Steve’s house from a DnD session maybe 2 months before the Byers left for Cali.

Dustin was taking forever to pull his shoes on and get out the house to his moms car and everyone was complaining. It was one of those rare times where Steve wasn’t the one carting them all around— they all had their own rides.

Dustin got his shoes on and Steve handed him his bag and— without thinking— pressed a kiss to the top of his hat before waving him out the door.

The rest of the kids are silent until Mike speaks up bitchily “what about us, asshole?”

Steve has no idea what they mean until El points to her head with a grin. Steve deals out head and forehead kisses for everyone and waves them off to their respective rides.

And then it just— sticks. At first it’s with just the kids whenever he sees them. He’ll usually greet them with a hug or an exasperated sigh and then say goodbye with a kiss to their foreheads.

Not even Mike complains. This is the kind of shit he never got while growing up— might as well make the best of it.

And then it migrates to Robin as well, and the Nancy is joining in on the hugs (they’re still too awkward for the kisses but the hugs are enough for now).

And Steve never holds back, not even in public. Again, no one complains.

And that’s how Hellfire finds out about the kissing arrangement (that might be the title of this if I make it an actual fic). They watch as Steve presses a forehead kiss to Mike, Lucas, and Dustin before waving them off and then presses a kiss to Max’s head and giving her a tight hug.

The guys try to make fun of the kids for it but none of them are embarrassed.

“It’s Steve, dude. He’s like a mom.”

“The kisses are actually really comforting.”

“It’s a Party thing.”

And then the fuckery of 1986 and Vecna happens and suddenly Eddie’s in on the hugs and pats and high-fives.

And then.

And then.

He’s in on the kisses.

Steve doles out the kisses like usual one night after Hellfire and gives one to everyone— including Eddie.

And Eddie panics and gives Steve one right back.

And then the kids are going feral about wanting to give Steve a kiss too.

And Eddie leaves during the chaos.

And then they don’t talk about it.

Until Steve and Eddie do it again.

And the kids accept is as the new normal; you have to give Steve a kiss back.

And then Steve and Eddie have an excuse to kiss each other on the foreheads and cheeks and noses.

One night they’re hanging out, just the two of them at the trailer after Wayne left for work.

Steve had greeted Eddie with a tight hug the moment he’d gotten in the trailer. Eddie had squeezed back just as tight if not tighter.

Steve was getting ready to leave, and on instinct leant in to kiss Eddie, but Eddie was also leaning in to kiss Steve. So they meet in the middle and accidentally kiss on the lips.

And then the new normal for Steve and Eddie is kissing on the lips goodbye.

Idk, just Steve being a very touchy feely person makes me so happy

[strawberrybyers]

the outfit parallels to season 1 are going to put me in a god damn coma,, if you hear nervous laughing sorry that’s just me because WHAT THE FUCK

[paladinsbrainrot]

[solarmorrigan]

💔 not enough - steve and hopper

This one gave me the chance to resurrect a scene I've had in mind for quite a while!

14. Not Enough - Hopper & Steve

cw: implied/referenced child abuse, implied/referenced domestic violence, referenced canon-typical violence

-

It’s silent as Hopper drives, the air a little awkward and stilted. Steve still isn’t sure what to say, what to do. They’d stopped off at his parents’ house to pick up his stuff (and Steve had tried to tell Hopper that it wasn’t necessary for him to come along, that his parents wouldn’t even be home, but Hopper had just opened the passenger side door of his truck and told Steve to get in; he’s a difficult man to argue with when he refuses to acknowledge he’s being argued with), and they’re on their way to the cabin now. It’s a safe place, an easy place to be, but Steve can’t help the mounting anxiety in his chest as they draw closer.

He hadn’t expected this when he’d turned up at Eddie’s place last night, the bruise around his eye still fresh and swelling, his lip only just beginning to scab over. He hadn’t wanted to cause a fuss, he’d just wanted somewhere to stay the night, to wait out his dad’s temper. But Eddie had more than fussed – he’d gotten Wayne involved, who had gotten Hopper involved, which had somehow led to Steve being given a choice: he could stay at the trailer with Eddie and Wayne, or he could take the spare room at the newly constructed Hopper-Byers cabin (not so much a cabin as a large house at this point, but the name had stuck).

Or – well, he could also have gone home. No one is holding him hostage, but he could imagine Wayne’s resigned sigh and Hopper’s disappointed scowl and the way Eddie and Robin would have worried over him if he’d said no, and he hadn’t wanted any of that. No one is supposed to worry over him.

It isn’t supposed to be like this.

This is Steve’s problem, and he shouldn’t have made it into anyone else’s. But as long as they had been expecting him to make a choice–

He loves it at the trailer with Eddie and Wayne, but they’re pressed for space as it is; Steve hadn’t wanted to intrude any further. And that just left Hopper and Joyce’s spare room.

Steve sighs and shifts his seat. He isn’t doing a great job hiding his mood, he knows he isn’t, but Hopper lets the silence ride until they reach the cabin. Once Steve is out of the truck, though, rounding the front to head up to the house, Hopper stops him with a hand on his shoulder, giving him a searching kind of look that makes Steve’s spine itch.

“If you’ve got something to say, you’d better get it out now, because once Joyce gets you in her clutches, you’re not escaping.”

Steve sighs, running a hand over his face, like maybe he can wipe away whatever it is Hopper’s picking up on. “It’s… not that I’m not grateful, but you shouldn’t have to do this. You shouldn’t be, like– putting yourself out just for me.”

Hopper raises his brows at Steve. “Is that what we’re doing?” he asks, and Steve can’t help but huff.

“Driving me around and helping me get my crap and – and letting me stay in your house, yeah, it sounds like kind of an imposition.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m sure you have other stuff to worry about. You shouldn’t feel like you have to take care of me, or something, I can– I can take it. It’s okay.”

“That’s– whatever you’re thinking, Harrington, that’s not what this is,” Hopper says. “This isn’t pity, or charity, or whatever the fuck else. You say you can take it, but you shouldn’t have to. This is just what we do for each other. What we’re supposed to do – we look out for each other.”

And something about that – it hits Steve in just the wrong spot.

It hits him in the spot he tries to pretend doesn’t exist, the spot filled with anger and doubt, where he wonders why he has to be there for everyone else but no one is there for him, where he shoves all the loneliness and want and tries to wall it away. It hits like a bolt of lightning and illuminates everything.

“Why now?” Steve asks.

“What?” Hopper’s brows draw together.

“Why now? Why does it suddenly matter now?” Steve isn’t really asking anymore. “Why not when I was thirteen, when my dad hit me the first time? Why not when Hargrove beat the shit out of me and no one ever even came by to make sure I wasn’t dead? Or after I got– after the Russians got me and I didn’t have anyone to drive me home from the fucking hospital? Why now?” He should stop, he knows he should stop, he isn’t being fair, there’s always been a good reason, but he just – can’t. “Is it because there’s nothing else going on right now? No other emergencies, so it’s okay to finally fucking– like– what, I survived infected bat bites from another dimension, but my dad gives me a black eye and that’s when everyone decides to pay attention?”

By the time Steve runs out of steam, petering off with his voice half-cracking as he demands to know what the hell is different now, something has changed about Hopper. He looks – small, almost. Tired, and older than Steve really remembers him looking.

“Kid, I–” Hopper starts; he breaks off and runs a hand over his mouth, staring for just a moment at the ground, like he can’t quite meet Steve’s eyes. “We fucked up. I know we did. We let you slip through the cracks because we didn’t have to worry about your parents breathing down our necks and because you… you were just so fucking quiet about it.” he shakes his head. He’s looking up at Steve now, like he can’t stop, his gaze intense. “And that’s not an excuse. You put everything on the line, again and again, and you kept those kids safe, and we dropped the ball on you every goddamn time. We fucked up, we never kept you safe.

“I’m not asking you to – I don’t know, fucking forgive us, or even trust us at this point. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to. If you change your mind and want to stay at the Munson’s, I’ll take you there. But you have a place here. As long as you need it.” Hopper shrugs loosely. “We’ll try to do better, Steve. Maybe that’s not enough, but that’s the best I’ve got.”

Objectively, it probably isn’t much.

Still, it’s more than Steve’s ever been promised, and wavers on the edge, inclined to take it.

“I don’t… I don’t really know what you want from me,” he admits quietly.

Hopper shakes his head. “Nothing. Just come inside.”

Arms crossed tight over his chest, Steve nods slowly. “Okay,” he manages.

Hopper’s hand is on his shoulder again, and Steve expects a pat, or maybe a reassuring squeeze, but he finds himself instead drawn close with one of Hopper’s arms resting heavily across his shoulders with a weight more reassuring than Steve expected it to be. He drops his own arms so they aren’t pinned between him and Hopper; he doesn’t quite hug back, but he lets himself relax a little against Hopper’s chest. He feels solid against Steve. He feels safe.

Maybe what Hopper’s offering him won’t be enough. Maybe it’s too little, too late. But if they’re going to try, then Steve wants to try, too.

He thinks maybe it will be okay.

[spookystarfishzombie]

[blueandyellow7]

byler shippers who also love el wya????

[queenie-ofthe-void]

A Very Hopper Holidays

Hopper POV || wc: 3.7k || tags: smoking, recreational drugs, grouchy old men dealing with their feelings, smart-ass Eddie Munson, meet-cute Steddie, Steve and Max siblings, El thinks Steve is cute (so does Eddie), emotionally available Wayne Munson gives the best advice, holiday fluff, found family

This is a companion piece to my fic The Babysitter Chronicles, but can be read separately!

Brief background: Wayne patched Steve up after his fight with Billy in s2

Hopper’s freezing his goddamn balls off out here, waiting on the front stoop in the dark, banging his fist on the door. There’s no answer, but the lights are all on and it’s dinnertime on Christmas Eve. So someone’s fucking home, and the sooner they answer the sooner he can leave.

“Dammit, Wayne. Open the door so I can give you a damn present, or next time I pick up your nephew maybe I throw him in jail for the night instead of bringing him home.”

Sure enough, the door flies open, but it’s not Wayne on the other side. The kid’s standing there, layered in enough flannel shirts and sweatpants to dress all of El’s shithead friends with some left over. Hopper watches as he drags the sleeve of an oversized black flannel across his red and dripping nose, shifting uncomfortably and eyes darting side to side.

“Munson,” Hopper crosses his arms, “where the hell’s your uncle?”

Even bundled up like a little kid, he still tries to make himself bigger, taller, meaner, like he always does when Hopper picks him up. “Not here.” The tone is flat, devoid of Munson’s usual snark as a particularly intense gust of wind slams the screen door open against the side of the trailer.

“It’s Christmas eve, what do you mean he’s not here?”

“He’s working.”

Hopper scoffs. “You’re telling me your uncle works Christmas eve?”

Munson scoffs back at him, a dramatic mockery of Hopper’s own tone. “We’re Jewish, asshole.”

Well, shit.

He doesn’t have time for the kid’s hardass act. All he wanted to do was drop off a simple thank you and also merry christmas but now probably happy hanukkah gift and be on his way to his own family. He can only hope El spares him a bit of holiday mercy for making her wait. 

“Kid, can I just come in?” He takes another step up, only for Munson to block his path.

His eyes grate across Hopper’s jacket, noting the star on the chest. “No cops in the trailer.” 

A low grumble forces its way up Hopper’s throat which breaks into a frustrated groan when another gust of wind scrapes the exposed skin on his cheeks. He stamps his feet on the stairs hoping it’ll keep the blood flow going to his toes as they start to tingle. Munson’s wrapped his hands up inside the sleeves of what’s most likely one of Wayne’s old jackets.

“Look,” Eddie starts, sniffling another drip back inside his nose, “if you could just–”

But Hopper cuts him off with a deranged laugh, head thrown back in dismay at this entire situation. “No, you look here. You’re going to listen to exactly what I have to say.”

Eddie’s taken a step back, and yeah, Hopper supposes he’s never seen the Chief of Police actually freak out before. But it’s been a long day of wellness checks and stove fires, and Eddie’s the only thing standing between him and a night of kid’s Christmas movies and spiked eggnog.

So he pushes forward, spurred on by the kid’s once-in-a-lifetime stunned silence. “Now it’s clear that Wayne’s working nights, probably earning holiday hours to pay for the radiator which is pretty obviously busted, given the ten to twenty shirts you’re wearing. Meaning you’re alone, in a tin box with a tiny space heater that’s so old it’s a fire hazard shoved into the corner of your room.” The Chief walks up the stairs, standing on the step just before the door so he’s towering over Eddie, who shrinks in on himself just a bit. 

“Here’s what’s going to happen, Munson.” Hopper ticks off each gloved finger as his list of demands grows, Eddie’s growing wider in time. “You’re going to let me inside so I can piss and blow my nose, since I’ve been standing out here for too fucking long. You’re going to pack a bag, you’re going to call your uncle, and you’re going to tell him you’re staying with me for the night.”

Eddie stammers, mouth flapping around words he can’t find fast enough. It doesn’t matter, because Hopper’s on a roll now.

“Then,” he steamrolls Eddie again, pushing his way into the trailer, closing the door as Eddie stumbles backwards down onto the couch, “you’re going to eat my food, you’re going to watch our movies, you’re going to smile when we smile and laugh when we laugh because even if you’re Jewish you can still have a damn good fucking Christmas eve!”

He’s sick and tired of stupid teenage boys trying to be something they aren’t, like they’re manly or tough or strong for barely surviving on their own, practically raising themselves. And the best way Hopper can drill that into their thick skulls is to get them to shut the fuck up and feed them.

The silence lingers on the frost coating the inside of the windows and the crust of dried snot on Eddie’s sleeve. The kid’s avoiding eye contact, like Hopper will just leave if he’s ignored. But if Hopper can outlast guards in the POW camp, and a little girl who hates green beans, then he can sure as hell outlast Eddie goddamn Munson. So Hopper waits. And waits. 

It pays off, like he knew it would. The kid gets up, storms towards one end of the trailer. Hopper slowly follows down the narrow hallway and sees Eddie viciously shoving rumpled clothes into a backpack, mumbling about pigs and asshole cops. 

After all’s said and done, they’re pulling up to the cabin about twenty minutes later. The front door opens with a bang in greeting, causing Eddie to jump out of his skin. But when they step through the now open door into the warmth of the living room, there’s no one there to greet them.

Ah, so she’s a little upset.

El’s door is closed, like it’s not supposed to be. Light shines out from underneath, and he can hear soft voices inside. The whispers are abruptly hushed when he knocks on her door. “El, honey, I need you to open the door. Six inches, remember?” Hopper tries turning the handle but it doesn’t budge. Honestly he can’t help but wonder why he bothered to install a door with no lock when she’s got superpowers– that’s on him, he supposes. 

He turns around to find Munson standing awkwardly in the middle of the living room. “Take your jacket off, put your shit down, and stay a while, will ya?” Hopper laughs at Eddie’s incredulous expression, eyebrows scrunched together and lips pursed tight. 

“Ok,” Eddie drags the sound out in question as he sets his pack next to the couch, “who opened the fucking door?”

“Hey, language!" Hopper calls, Max’s voice echoing his own.

Eddie startles, head whipping between Hopper’s no-doubt exasperated expression and El’s still-closed bedroom door. He drags his hands down his face and sighs as her mimicry sends the girls into a fit of giggles. He hasn’t decided yet if Max is a good influence on El, even if Hopper knows it’s not himself she’s mocking.

He hears the creak of the bathroom door opening as Steve walks back into the living room. Hopper can’t help but turn to watch the show, the two boys coming face to face. 

Munson’s oversized black and red flannel covers the ripped sleeves of whatever tattered, black band t-shirt he’s wearing. Which would be on par with what he normally looks like, except it’s contrasted against bright blue, wool pajama pants with little white snowflakes on them. When Hopper first spotted them at the trailer, a teasing smirk on his face, Munson only rolled his eyes and argued they were the warmest clean pair he had.

Harrington, on the other hand, has lived his entire life in locker rooms and an empty house. Which means that he once again forgot to bring a shirt to change into after his shower. It's not normally a problem-- except when El catches him, a blush lighting up her face like a goddamn Christmas tree, accompanied by incessant giggles that make Hopper want to drown himself.

What is a problem is Munson’s shameless gawking, mouth wide enough to catch a whole swarm of flies. His blush puts El's to shame, red blotches burst across his neck like hives. Hopper can practically see the steam rolling out of the guy’s ears, hearts popping out of his eyes as he just stares and stares his fill, completely unaware that Hopper’s still standing less than five feet from him.

Thankfully, so far Steve is none the wiser. He’s got a cotton swab in his ear, head tipped down as he double-knots his Tigersharks swim team sweatpants. Hopper notices they hang baggy and loose around his hips. Another shitty reminder of how much weight the kid’s lost since getting kicked off the team because of his ‘incident’ with Hargrove. He wonders about the last time the kid ate a decent meal, and pushes down the rising anger at the most realistic answer, which is not recent enough for his liking. Hopper has the same gnawing concern when he looks back at Munson, dark circles under his eyes, skinny as a bean-pole. 

He’s got to stop taking in strays.

“Harrington, we’ve talked about this.” Hop tries to keep the frustration out of his voice, but if he has to watch El swoon over the kid’s wet hair and bare chest again he’s gonna blow a gasket. “Put a damn shirt on.”

“Oh, yeah sorry, Hop.” Which is the exact moment Steve decides to turn his head. They both catch Munson giving Steve a once over, who then chokes on his own spit when he notices Steve looking back at him. Hopper knows Harrington’s trying to turn over a new leaf, but he also knows the kind of people Richard and Helen Harrington are. So he’s a little surprised when, instead of having to stop a potential hate crime, he notices a similar blush bloom across Steve’s chest– or maybe it’s the heat from the shower. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Muson’s screech is so high it could set dogs howling. Steve flinches at the outburst, and Hopper hopes this little interaction doesn’t trigger another migraine for the kid. He was barely pushing through when Hop picked him up yesterday, but seems to be feeling better today.

“Munson, I need you to tone it down,” Hopper argues. It goes unnoticed.

Steve’s sputtering. He runs a nervous hand through his hair and of-fucking-course Munson gasps, swoons just like El. Harrington’s free hand fumbles for a shirt hem that isn’t there. He realizes he’s half naked and turns into a deer in headlights, hands frantically moving over his chest like he doesn’t know how to hide himself. Unfortunately the unintentional groping sends Munson into a coughing fit. 

“Me? What the hell are you doing here, Munson?”

Munson scoffs, crossing his arms as he backs himself into the wall behind him. “The high and mighty Chief of Police here basically kidnapped me. Forced me to pack a bag and tossed me into his truck.” Ah, there’s the Munson he expected. Except if it wasn’t for how many times Hopper’s hauled the kid in, he might not have noticed the nervous energy in Eddie’s twitchy fingers and shifty eyes. “He failed to mention–” he waves around at everything until Munson’s wild gesturing lands on a half-naked, sweats hung low, hair slicked back, barefoot Steve Harrington.

The squeal of El’s door opening behind him propels Hopper full-speed into the living room towards Steve’s duffle. He pulls out the first shirt he manages to find. It hits Steve in the face, and they both breathe a sigh of relief when he pulls it on.

“Aww,” El complains, before her eyes grow ten sizes too big when she catches Hopper glaring back at her. 

“Who the hell is this guy?” Max asks. She makes her way toward the kitchen, dragging El with her to help pull out dishes and cups. 

“Apparently another kidnapping victim.” Steve huffs, annoyed, before making his way over to the girls. “Munson, get over here and help me set the food out.”

Steve doesn’t even look up from where he’s pulling a large cast iron out of the oven, so he misses the absolutely priceless distress scrawled into Eddie’s bulging eyes and flapping hands. Looking back and forth between Harrington and Hopper, Eddie points to himself in confusion as if Steve hadn’t asked him by name. Hopper can only chuckle at the kid’s antics. He rolls his eyes and tilts his head toward the kitchen so Munson finally gets the jist, moving across the cabin in double-time. 

It’s a more intense Christmas dinner than Hopper was hoping for, but after introductions and a full stomach, everyone’s relaxed a bit. El and Max curl up on the couch next to him, snuggled under the same blanket surrounded by bowls of popcorn and half eaten bags of candy. The boys, finally over whatever awkward tension laced between them earlier, are sitting rather comfortably next to each other, poking fun at the cliche holiday movies that Hopper secretly enjoys.

Well after the girls are tucked in and the boys have set up a mess of sleeping bags and blankets on the living room floor, Hopper moves quiet as a mouse across the trailer to Eddie’s duffle. After a quick search, he pulls a joint from a hidden zipper pocket hand-sewn inside the lining.

Kid must think he’s so smart, like he’s the first guy to ever sell drugs.

Hopper deserves a little treat after all the shit he’s been through this year. It’s been ages since he’s smoked, and with the boys here to help watch over the kids, he thinks he can allow himself time to relax for just a little bit. He’s earned it. Plus, it’s not his fault the damned kid decided to try to sneak his stash here. Hop’s not an idiot, even though the boys clearly thought so when they went out for some ‘fresh air’ earlier and came back looking a little less fresh than when they left.

So he brushes the snow off of his favorite lawn chair, wraps himself up in a tattered old blanket, and lights up in the cold, winter air. 

Hop loved smoking in high school, so he takes a long inhale, reveling in the burn heating his chest. Unfortunately, Hopper hasn’t been a teenager in a long, long time. His coughing fit is loud enough to wake his non-existent neighbors. But when he can finally breathe fresh air again, there’s no noise to be heard from inside.

He goes slower this time, tugging on little puffs as he watches the snow fall between the pine trees. It’s quiet, a good quiet, filled with the rustling of rabbits in the brush and bugs singing in the night. Even the joint is absolute shit, like most of Munson’s wares. It’s still enough for him to relax, to appreciate what unfortunate circumstances have gifted him, and keep him from dwelling on what he’s lost. 

Less than an hour’s passed when a pair of headlights shine down the drive. Wayne steps out of his beat-up truck, in only slightly better condition than Eddie’s van, and makes his way over. Without a word, Hopper gets up and grabs another folding chair propped against the end-railing and sets it next to his own.

The joint’s gone by now, but Hopper pulls out a pack of smokes and offers one to Wayne, who silently takes it with just a slight nod of his head in thanks. Out of the corner of his eye, Hopper notices Wayne’s worn-down work boots have a gash at the front, exposing the hard steel underneath the suede. He’s wearing a large, thick flannel that looks exactly like the one Eddie was wearing when Hopper found him, and it’s just as oversized on the old man. 

There’s almost nothing similar between Wayne and his nephew. Wayne’s always been a quiet one. A guy who’d make his way to the back of a crowded room, who kept his head down when he knew what was good for him. And Eddie is– is really just something else. Loud, obnoxious, brash, a kid with a well-crafted personality faker than government coverup. Almost one of a kind, if Hopper didn’t happen to know another boy just like him.

Wayne clears his throat, stubs out the bud with his boot in a little pile of snow. “Got a note from my foreman saying you kidnapped my boy.” His tone is gruff, but Hopper catches the small uptick to the man’s chapped lips.

He doesn’t say anything when Hopper heads inside. It takes him a minute to find the wrapped bottle and two glasses. While he meanders around, he checks that the boys are still both snoring away and the girls are sound asleep amidst a pile of stuffed animals.

When he closes the front door behind him, Jim hands the bottle to Wayne and sets the two glasses into the snow between them. Wayne hums in thought, turning the bottle over in his hand. “Macallen single?”

Jim actually croaks, chest light and filled with laughter when he clocks the mirth in Wayne’s teasing eyes. Maybe him and Eddie aren’t so different after all, both having a shithead sense of humor.

“Just Johnny.” Jim wipes a hand down his face like that’ll hide the sincerity in his smile. “You helped patch up my kid, Wayne. You didn’t save the goddamn world.”

The light in Wayne’s eyes dims only slightly. Instead of unwrapping the bottle, he unscrews the lid off the top, ripping the paper off with it, and pours them both half a glass. They silently cheers, even though the air between them has shifted slightly. 

“Thought that boy was a Harrington, not a Hopper.” It should sting, but it doesn’t, because Wayne’s not that type of man. It’s a genuine question, one that Jim’s not sure how to answer. So he keeps silent, hoping Wayne will cave and move on like his kid does when things stay too quiet. But Wayne sits, and sits, and his own gut finally starts to roil. Ah, so that's what it feels like.

“Apparently I’m good at picking up strays.” Jim’s attempt at a joke falls flat between them. He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “Although, I think I got to Harrington a little too late.”

Wayne takes a decent sip from his glass, smacking his lips together. He peers out into the dark, just beyond the porch railing. But Jim can tell he’s not looking at the woods in front of them or the starry sky overhead. Wayne’s looking at something that’s long behind him.

“Ya know, Harrington didn’t look much different than my boy did when he showed up lookin’ like a dropped sack of peaches. Just a little thing he was; no hair, clothes that didn’t fit. Hell, I’d almost been able to see his ribs if it weren't for the bruises.” Wayne’s looking down at his feet now, scuffing the snow off the bottom of his boots. He downs his glass in one go before pouring himself another. 

“I beat myself up for too long for not doing something sooner. My own nephew, my own brother, livin’ only two towns over, and I had no idea it was that bad. Told m’self over and over that I should’ve known, should’ve helped sooner.” Wayne heaves a heavy sigh before looking up at Jim again. There’s guilt in the crinkles around his eyes, but it’s quickly replaced with resolve. “You might not’ve always been there for the Harrington kid, but that don’t mean he don’t need you now. Maybe more than ever, by the look of him. And if he’s got you watchin’ out for him, maybe he’ll turn out more Hopper than Harrington afterall.”

Jim can’t take the intense eye contact anymore and firmly looks away, finishing his glass and extending it out to Wayne for a refill. It’s quiet, Wayne’s patience sitting on his shoulders like the world’s most uncomfortable blanket. But even blankets that are scratchy as hell can still be warm.

After a while, the silence releases enough tension that he can sit back again, and the two men slowly sip their whiskey and watch dawn break through the trees. Wayne grabs the bottle as he moves to stand and pats Jim’s shoulder a little too hard. The man’s stronger than he looks.

“Why don’t you bring Eddie back yourself a little bit later, give me a chance to fix that radiator. Plus, being around Harrington might be good for him,” he chuckles to himself, hopping into his truck. “Maybe show the boy not every kid who don’t wear all black ain’t a damn conformist suburban yuppie.” Jim laughs, Wayne’s mockery a spot on impression.

All’s still quiet in the cabin, each kid right where he left them. He’s not sure if it’s the joint, the two whiskeys, Wayne’s advice, or just a combination of everything, but there’s a heat behind his eyes he hasn’t had to deal with in a long time. He’s not typically a crier– happy or sad. The only time he’s cried since Sarah was in the elevator shaft, El collapsed in his arms just after closing the gate. And even then, it was only a few stray tears.

Now he’s unspooling wads of toilet paper to blow his damn nose in, crying like a kid who got coal in their stocking. Except this isn’t like when he thought he’d lost El, or when he’d held Sarah’s hand when she took her last breath. Jim Hopper’s happier than he’s been in a long, long time. And after the shit awful year he’s had– that they’ve all had– he lets himself revel in the joy of having a family again.

Gorgeous graphics provided by @steddiecameraroll-graphics

And as always, thank you to @carolperkinsexgirlfriend for telling me "I think your calling might be writing well-meaning, grumpy old men" and also, "you just understand the spirit of The Old Man", but mostly just thank you for being an amazing beta reader <3

[artiststarme]

Steve looking up at Uncle Wayne as the father figure he never had. Unlike his dad, he doesn’t cheat or disappear from his life when things get tough. Eddie loves it because it means he can see his boyfriend even more. It’s all fun and games until Steve goes to his father figure to complain about his boyfriend leaving him at a McDonald’s after a fight they had. Then Eddie has to deal with an upset boyfriend, a disappointed uncle, and an angry Robin to boot.

He has no choice but to take desperate measures. Eddie tells Hopper that Wayne is trying to take his “cool dad” spot in the Party and watches the chaos unfold.

By time anyone realizes what he’s done, he’s made up with Steve and escapes another murderous rage by the skin of his teeth. Mission accomplished, indeed.

Should I make this into a longer fic? I feel like I could go places with this lol

[wheneverfeasible]

link to prompt

~

Jim rubbed at his eyes which were pained in exhaustion, a headache blooming behind them. He released a heavy sigh before dropping his hand to stare at the nervous and embarrassed adventurer before him. He’d been advised against using the disgraced knight for the job, but Jim hadn’t been able to look past the man’s success rate.

Or the fact that he’d been the only volunteer to go up against the infamous demon lord who had been snatching up their virginal young women for whatever nefarious hell he was submitting them to in his lair.

“I sent you to slay the demon, not—”

“I brought Miss Buckley back!” Steve protested, hooking a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the most recent victim who looked just as put out as Jim did. Though she snorted when Steve hastily covered the gold on his hand with his other palm, while Jim just let out an aggravated sigh.

“To be fair, dingus, he was getting ready to toss me out anyways,” the young Buckley maiden pointed out. “Apparently he was getting tired of my ‘prattling,’” she scoffed at Jim, lifting her fingers in air quotes.

Steve shot her a dirty look. “Well I did convince him to let Lady Chrissy go, but she didn’t want to leave,” he huffed, as though offended at having his talents besmirched. As though the ring on his finger wasn’t mocking enough.

Jim let out another heavy sigh.

Steve turned back towards the warden of the realm with a small grimace. “Turns out Miss Holloway was taken by someone else too, Eddie said he didn’t tou—”

“Eddie?!”

Steve’s smile turned dopily fond, and Jim’s annoyance turned sharper when he heard three sets of giggles come from behind a nearby grate. He’d had to have another talk with the triplets (they weren’t really triplets, one being biologically his, one being from his wife’s first marriage, and one being adopted, but they certainly acted like it enough times) about eavesdropping on important business matters again.

“Yeah, Eddie,” Steve sighed like the lovesick. “He said he didn’t touch Miss Holloway, but he said he’d find her for you if you call off any more manhunts against him.”

“And I’m supposed to trust the word of a demon?” Jim scoffed.

“Hey! That’s my husband you’re talking about! I mean…oops,” Steve said with another embarrassed little smile.

Right. Jim had too much of a headache to continue these talks. He needed a stiff drink. Hopefully Benny didn’t mind opening the tavern’s bar a little earlier than normal today. He waved a dismissive hand, causing the man before him to grin.

“So I can go back to my honeymoon now?”

Jesus Christ. “Return with Lady Chrissy to collaborate your story, and your whatever has a deal,” Jim grumbled.

“Chrissy isn’t going to be too happy about that,” Robin muttered, but she walked up to Steve and gave him a grin. “Let’s go.”

“Robin, you can’t come with me,” Steve rolled his eyes.

“Yeah? Well who’s gonna keep Chrissy company while you let that drowned rat of a demon lord ravish your body?”

Steve’s face pinked up as the giggles in the grating turned to full fledged snickers. Yup. Jim was done and needed that drink immediately.

“OUT!” he bellowed, which his somehow successful hired hero and the demon’s latest victim seemed happy to do.

He was going to make Benny make that drink a double.

~

Hostage Hotties (open):

@derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump @honeii-puff @scoops-aboy86 @dotdot-wierdlife @everywherenothere @bumblebeecuttlefishes

[kennahjune]

No Upside Down steddie AU where Steve gradually meets the members of Hellfire (-Eddie) in and out of school and they all come to befriending him really fast because “Steve Harrington is actually a good dude”

But Eddie fucking hates it.

And this only spurs Hellfire on because they think him getting mad over Steve Harrington is fucking hilarious.

Jeff who takes a foods class in third period and Steve does to and then the teacher pairs them for a baking project and Jeff gets to go to Casa Harrington. And he realizes rather quickly that Steve really likes baking and cooking and actually knows what he’s doing and that he’s not just taking the class for an easy A.

Brian (I’ve named him Brian, yes), meets Steve in Art class. Like Jeff, he thought Steve was taking it for an easy A but when seats are changed and they sit together he realizes that, no, Steve’s actually kind of good at drawing (particularly scenery). They get to talking about one of Steve’s sketches and the rest is history.

Gareth doesn’t officially meet Steve until later, but he does see him out with the kids at the arcade. Gareth works at the arcade and there’s this particular group of kids that just irks him— turns out they’re Steve’s gaggle. He watches in begrudging amusement while Steve rounds them up like a pro.

Then Gareth officially meets him after Hellfire one day. It’s fucking windy and he’s just leaving to school to go home when the papers and sheets he was holding are fucking torn from his hands. Steve grabs the papers— there after some kind of sports practice— and makes sure Gareth has them secured in his bad before leaving with a dorky finger-waggle wave.

And Eddie just downright refuses.

And then the school year ends and Steve graduates. And he’s convinced he doesn’t have to see Steve again.

Until, of course, Mike Dustin and Lucas join.

Jeff, Gareth, and Brian are all ecstatic to share their own run-ins of Steve Harrington to the three boys who so clearly idolize him. Gareth happily recalls how Steve “tamed” them in the arcade every time he came in.

Eddie sits in brooding silence.

And then Lucas joins the basketball team. And sure— Jeff’s on the volleyball team— but basketball jocks are so much worse than volleyball jocks.

Mike and Dustin, however thrown out of orbit they were at first, seem to settle in eventually and learn to plan around it. They think that anything that makes Lucas happy is a good thing (even if it did take a bit of a talk with Will for them to realize).

But Eddie? Eddie can’t stand it.

Which is why he refuses to move the date for the final campaign.

But Eddie doesn’t even get to introduce Vecna before Steve Harrington himself is all but breaking down the fucking door.

Eddie has this whole argument in his head that quickly dwindles when he sees the pure anger in Steve’s eyes (and also because Steve is really fucking pretty holy shit).

Steve tells Dustin Mike and Erica to pack up and get to the game before he drags them and you know what?

They listen.

Including hard ass Erica Sinclair.

And then idk Steve and Eddie get into a whole fight about.

But Steve makes it very clear that he doesn’t appreciate Eddie making Lucas feel like he can’t be happy doing DnD and basketball because that poor boy deserves nice things dammit.

And Eddie sleeps on it over the weekend before hunting Lucas down first thing Monday morning to apologize.

Lucas forgive Eddie (against Eddie’s protest because let the man grovel) but makes Eddie also apologize to Steve.

Which Eddie does by showing up to the Harrington Estate.

Eddie apologizes and they get high together and the rest is history.

.

I might actually make this into something, it’s already pretty fleshed out but eh

[why-the-heck-not]

it’s october so the desired aesthetic is once again ”disgraced small town ex-detective chainsmoking in their basement/garage (that's been turned into a messy office with the wall of papers, articles & pics connected with red yarn) driven mad trying to crack the (paranormal?) cold case everyone else has already given up on years ago”

[shushmal]

cw: canon minor character deaths, alcohol, drugs, and imprisonment

Okay but non-paranormal au where barb is killed in a drunk driving accident. Steve is arrested and tried as an adult, and doesn’t fight his charges at all. He goes to prison for the full 15. The only reason he doesn’t go to a more high security prison is because the chief of police pulls stings for him.

The entirety of Hawkins vilifies him through the whole trial. His name is practically a curse word in the high school. A lot of people say he did it in purpose. Never showed any remorse, never tried to get himself out of trouble. Never denied anything said about him.

Few years pass and Eddie finds himself arrested and behind bars, and extremely lucky he’s only being charged with drug trafficking and not homocide. Wayne is constantly at his side through the whole thing, and when he’s sent off to prison, Wayne says he’ll visit him as often as he can. Eddie has no idea Wayne’s gone to Hopper to beg him to help his nephew.

So it’s pretty big surprise when Eddie’s led to meet his cell mate and finds Steve Harrington, Hawkins’s own boogeyman: that is until Eddie just dethroned him.

Eddie kinda freaks out because a LOT of wild rumors about Steve has gone around since the accident, a lot of really unsavory claims about him. But Steve is looking at him with a weary but kind smile and says, “hey man, don’t worry, it’s not as bad here as you think.”

And Steve really keeps Eddie out of trouble, even though Eddie is super wary around him. But eventually they bond. Steve’s only on year 2 of his sentence, will still be behind bars when Eddie finishes up his ten. They become in separable over the years, and Eddie still doesn’t find out until they’re both long out of the system, living together now in California, that Steve wasn’t even the one driving the car that night.

[stevemania]

stranger things s5 behind the scenes ⋆. 📷 ˚

[spookystarfishzombie]

[silverliing]

please tell me they went trick or treating in lenora