#mmpmaple

There have only been a handful of moments since Joyce and Hopper managed to close the gate in time to save Hawkins that have been purely quiet and calm. It had taken Alexei some time to get used to life in the real world, life without the cages of his job around him, life without opening a gate to the upside down.

To get used to life with you.

It had nearly been a month now and Alexei still looked at you with a mixture of hope and amusement in his eyes. As if he couldn’t quite believe that he was actually here with you by his side. He still couldn’t quite believe that you’d offered up your own house in Hawkins for him to stay in with you.

He thought about the kiss he’d given you at the fun fair every day, and sometimes he wondered if you ever thought about it, too.

But the quiet moments, the calm moments. Those were the moments you treasured more than others because they didn’t come so often. They always happened late at night when neither of you could sleep and you ended up on the sofa together, staring at late night sitcom reruns. 

“Мы скоро должны попытаться уснуть.” We should try to sleep soon. You looked up at Alexei sat next to you. He had an arm wrapped protectively around your shoulders, and you’d noted plenty of times since everything ended that he seemed to feel more comfortable like that. “Вы устали?” Are you tired?

Alexei shook his head. His mind was racing like it often did late at night. “Нет, но я думал.” No, but I have been thinking. 

“о чем?” About what?

He looked down and met your eyes. “Счастье.” Happiness.

You smiled up at him. There hadn’t been a lot of time lately to be truly happy. Though Alexei was a naturally happy person, there had been a lot weighing on his mind lately. You couldn’t blame him for thinking about the better days.

“А ты счастлив?” And are you happy?

Here you go! :)

Hello! Don’t worry I’m planning to draw more Sinbad content, and of course I can’t leave out Proteus! I can definitely understand your love for him ♡

DUDE YOU HAVE FUCKING WRECKED ME WITH THAT SONG HOLY SHIIIIIIIIT yes yes yes yes yes yes here we  g o 

if billy thought about it too much, he’d make himself sick 

he knew that he should want to be a better person because it was the right thing to do 

but

like

he just didn’t care about that

he really didn’t 

the only reason he even bothered trying to not be a prick was because of you 

he likes himself a hell of a lot more with you around 

he’s all hard edges while you’re just soft touches 

he’s a whirlwind of anger and hate 

while you’re there with your calming voice that makes him stop 

you were the first person that he could just be with 

that he wouldn’t ditch the second he came 

the two of you would just lay there, shoulder to shoulder in the quiet 

his mind didn’t race around as much when you were near, either 

for the first time in a long time, it was quiet 

eventually, the voice would start up again 

whispering that he was no good for you and that you didn’t deserve his pile of shit

which you didn’t 

but then again 

you didn’t look at it like that 

billy needed your help

and you planned to offer it in some way or another 

was it healthy?

probably not 

but the two of you were in it together

and it was weird for him 

he found himself not drinking as much at parties because you didn’t like him when he got drunk like that 

he started looking at colleges and studying more 

because you made him think about a future that extended beyond the palm of his father’s hand 

he even softened up towards max after you ripped him a new one about how he treated her 

he was easing up and you were encouraging it 

he still fought and got too angry 

and sometimes you weren’t there to cool him down 

but he still liked himself more when he was with you

You and Sweeney were sprawled on the couch together watching television. You weren’t quite sure what you were watching, you’d been too busy arguing over the couch space, kicking loosely at each other for foot space and resting your legs on top of each other in a very mature way. 

Sweeney glared at you, like it was you who dropped in unannounced and starting begging for attention and space on your couch. You scowled back at him. 

There was a silence. 

You stared at him. He stared at you. 

Then he leant forward, grabbed your ankle, and tried to drop you off the side of the couch. 

You reacted instinctively, jumping forward and somehow, somehow,  you both ended up on the floor. You were on top of him, only narrowly missing hitting your head against his chin. 

Sweeney cursed in some long forgotten language and you lifted your head to flick him between the eyes with your fingers. “Language,” you criticized him as you tried to get your breath back. 

He dropped his head back against your floor. “You don’t even know what I said.” 

You roll your eyes. “I don’t need the literal translation to get when someone’s cursing at me.” You could’t help a smile. “Otherwise I wouldn’t understand half of what you say.” 

He pulls a face back at you, and curses again under his breath. You shift your knee so it’s digging into his hip. “Language.”

He makes a scoffing noise. “You think I’m gonna obey your fucking orders now?”

“My house,” you remind him. You tap his nose. “That makes me King of the Castle.” 

He looks unimpressed, then sad. “I was a real King once,” he said softly. 

You blink, pull back a bit so you can search his face. “Really?” you ask, in the same tone. And then a grin breaks out over your face. “King of the Leprechauns?” Your smile widened. “Is that why you’re so tall?” 

He scowls up at you again. “I told you that was a fucking stereotype,” he tells you. “And I was a real King.” 

A frown touches your face. “A… real King?” You…you knew very little about Leprechauns. Irish Mythology in general, really. You probably should look into that. You hadn’t heard of a Leprechaun King but… as Sweeney said, the only things they really talk about in America ie. Leprechauns was the ‘fucking stereotype’ that seemed more and more racist every time you saw it. You should really stop buying Lucky Charms. 

“No, an imaginary King,” he snapped back. Then he sighed. “I was a real King. Then a bird, then I was part of the fey folk. Then a fucking caricature.” He rolled his eyes then closed them, as if he was planning to sleep on your floor - which….wouldn’t be the first time…  

You reach down a hand, and stroke his cheek, without really thinking. He looked so sad. You try to imagine what it was like to be a King. Or a bird. Or a Leprechaun. Part of you bites back the amusement at realizing Leprechauns were considered fairies. “I’m sorry,” you say, not really sure why. Not really sure you could ever understand why. 

His eyes don’t open, but it seems almost like he’s holding his breath. You drop your head to his chest, wrap your arms around him best you could, and just breathe together.