#anonomus

Imma be real with u anon, that's not a very fun fact

Thank you! It’s been difficult, but I’m taking it one day at a time. I took some liberties with the TL on this one so please forgive me, but nothing should be too obvious. Thanks for the prompt!

Joyce is fuming. She has to be at work in 15 minutes and Lonnie is nowhere to be seen. They’d had one of their infamous fights last night; he’d stormed out and she hasn’t seen him since. He knows her work schedule so he’s definitely doing this on purpose which is the part that infuriates her the most. She’s the only one that works as Lonnie can’t hold down a job and yet he can’t be here to do something as simple as watch his son while she works to put food on the table.

She rushes around the house in search of her keys, bouncing a three-year-old Jonathan on her hip, and randomly throwing things in a diaper bag that he would need for the day. Donald would be furious, but she didn’t have a choice. Calling off is not an option.

She keeps Jonathan in his stroller behind the counter right next to her, occasionally pushing and pulling it when he starts making too much noise. It’s nearing dusk before she’s able to leave; having to stay longer due to Peggy being late.

She’s walking to her car, pushing Jonathan, when a car pulls up next to her and a tall man gets out, “I thought that was you,” Jim Hopper comes into view, walking towards her, “Joyce Horowitz,” he flashes a toothy grin at her.

“Hopper,” she gasps, not believing he’s really here. Not bothering to correct him on his wrong use of her surname. She gives him a hug, pushing Jonathan’s stroller to the side so she can embrace him fully. “What are you doing back?” she asks him in awe, looking him up and down.

“I got discharged from ‘Nam…my mom’s sick,” he reveals sadly looking down at his feet.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll have to get some flowers to send to her. Nothing serious I hope?” Joyce questions.

“Not sure yet,”

“Mommy,” Jonathan is looking up at his mother from his stroller, wondering why they’ve stopped for so long. Joyce instantly feels a rush of anxiety wash over her.

“And who is this?” Hopper asks, taking note of her wedding ring.

“This is my son, Jonathan.” she picks him up out of the stroller and Jim swears the kid looks familiar, but he can’t place how.

“Well, well, well. What the fuck is this?” Lonnie Byers comes walking up the sidewalk and slides his arm around Joyce’s waist when he gets close enough, pulling her to him possessively, completely ignoring Jonathan’s grabs for him.

Joyce instantly pushes him away from her, causing Lonnie to stumble back, “where the fuck have you been? I had to take Jonathan to my shift.” she scoffs at him.

“Chill out,” he turns his attention to Hopper, “what are you doing talking to my wife?” Lonnie smirks. The two had never like each other, but that rift had only been made deeper because of their mutual feelings for Joyce in high school.  

“Good to see you too, Lonnie.” he looks at Joyce, feeling something off in the relationship between the two, but can’t place it, “you okay, Joyce?” he asks her directly, but of course Lonnie jumps in.

“She’s fine,” Lonnie takes Jonathan from her, starting towards Joyce’s car, “Let’s go!” he shouts at her, pulling on the locked passenger side door.

Joyce shoots Hopper an apologetic look before she follows Lonnie with the stroller. He watches the tiny family pile into the car, Joyce and Lonnie obviously fighting as soon as all the doors close, and drive off.

A week later he’s at the pharmacy picking up some medicine for his mom when he runs into Joyce, Jonathan on her hip and a brown bag leaning against the other side.

“Hey, can we talk?” he inquires, smiling softly at Jonathan. She nods, letting him lead her out and onto a park bench for some privacy where she sits Jonathan on her lap.

Hopper clears his throat nervously, “When I saw him last week,” Hopper nods towards Jonathan, “I thought he looked damn familiar, but didn’t understand why. Until I saw this at my mom’s house,” Hopper pulls out an old polaroid of him at three years old - looking like a spitting image of Jonathan. Or Jonathan looking like a spitting image of him she supposes.

Before he left for Vietnam they had broken things off, but not before a few passionate filled nights to say goodbye. The didn’t know what the future would hold. They weren’t even positive they would see each other ever again.

“Hopper, I can explain…” Joyce starts.

“So he’s mine then?” Hopper challenges, receiving a sad nod from Joyce. He jumps up, instantly livid.

“Why didn’t you tell me? And all this time you’ve been letting him be raised by that maniac!” Jonathan starts crying at his outburst, making Hopper feel instantly guilty for upsetting his son. That sounds so strange. His son.

Joyce lays Jonathan against her chest, rubbing his back, his head laying on her shoulder.

“I wasn’t going to be the one who held you back. I knew how much you wanted to get out of this town. I found out when you left. It’s not like I found out before and hid it from you. Then when I saw you the other day I panicked internally. Lonnie can’t know, Hop.” she demands, fear evident in her tone.

“So that’s it, you get to decide how this whole thing is going to be? What if I want a relationship with him? I’m his father, I deserve to know him,” Hopper reasons, his anger still palpable.  

“Are you even planning on staying in town? Of course you have a right to know him, but I don’t want to disrupt my life if you’re just going to leave town after your mom is well again,” she points out and he can’t really argue with that. He wasn’t planning on sticking around, having dreams for the big city, but now he isn’t sure.

Almost as if Joyce had been reading his mind she adds, “and don’t you even think about sticking around just because of him. That’s why I didn’t tell you in the first place,”

Hopper sits back down on the bench next to her, “who says it would be just for him?” he looks into her eyes, rolling his lips against each other.

“I’m married…to a maniac. Remember?”

“I don’t care. I want to be there from now on. For both of you. I want to make up for lost time. I don’t want to miss anymore.” he pleads with her making her instantly burst into tears.

“Hey, come here.” He wraps his arm around her shoulder, pulling her and Jonathan close. After a few minutes she sits up and looks him directly in the eyes, wiping her tears away with her free hand.

This is Lucille, my 1'-6" trickster demon

I honestly haven't drawn her in forever so I had to make some revisions to her design. She doesn't really have a set design though since she's way into fashion and just wears whatever she wants (but she has to make all her own clothes since she's so small haha). She wears bright clothes basically all the time since she naturally has little to no pigmentation.

She's so short because it's the form that takes the least energy. Where her eyes would be are probably portals directly to the void. Or maybe somewhere else, no one really knows, not even her. She has this black goop stuff that is basically an extension of her being that she can summon at will and use to shapeshift. She's likely hundreds of years old, but demons of her species don't really keep track of their age unless they're super important or something. She can also hop to different dimensions, though she has no control over which one she goes to.