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sp0o0kylights · 9 months

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Part One / Part Two (You are Here) / Part Three

A03

Hopper had undersold Harrington's condition.

Wayne hadn't expected anything pretty, but the face that turned to them as they walked through the door almost had him freezing in place.

Black eye, bruised chin, split lip.

More and more bruises, some faded and some very new, trailing down the kids neck.

The rest was hidden by his preppy little polo shirt, but Wayne didn't doubt that there were more.

Harrington tried to stand when they entered the room and the way he moved--entirely unbalanced, clearly in a lot of pain--made Wayne think the only thing the kid really needed was a hospital.

Because Steve Harrington hadn't just been beaten.

He'd been tortured--and very recently strangled.

(Abruptly, Wayne realized that Hopper had implied the boy had been in the mall fire--just as much as he implied the mall fire was anything but.

He also hadn't stated how Harrington had escaped the Suites trying to break into his house.)

"Sit down." Hopper commanded, and Wayne expected Harrington to do anything but listen.

Say something cocky, or act the part of a demanding little shit maybe, despite the condition he was in.

Instead the kid just sighed in relief and dropped like a stone, right back into the chair.

Hopper came around his desk, talking all the while. "Steve, this is Wayne. Wayne, Steve."

"Hello Sir." Steve croaked politely. His voice was wrecked, no doubt from the necklace of finger shaped bruises around his neck.

"You're going to stay with him for a while, and you're gonna pay him for the privilege." Hopper informed him, as he began digging around his desk. "Money, chores, whatever Wayne wants."

Wayne held his gaze as Steve turned to appraise him.

Would Harrington pitch a fit?

Would he look at Wayne's work clothes, streaked with dirt and sweat, with the name of the warehouse embroidered in the corner and crinkle up his nose, just like his daddy did?

Hopper didn't lie, but a part of Wayne wanted to see just how different this Harrington was. If the respectful demeanor was an act done for Hopper.

Or perhaps, Hopper had mentioned Steve's father for a reason, instead of his mother. Did he adopt her ice-like approach to life?

Micro managing and long-held grudges were Stella Harrington’s game, and she excelled at it.

Steve however, did nothing of the sort, instead settling with the situation in a way that reminded Wayne far too strongly of the men and women who'd come home from war.

"Okay." The kid said simply, after a long moment of consideration. He turned back to Hopper. "But we need to tell the rest of the Par--"

Here he cut a look back to Wayne, correcting himself. "the kids. I don't want them showing up at my house trying to find me and freaking out."

"They wouldn't--" Jim paused, fingers freezing from the rummaging they'd been doing. "they absolutely would, goddammit." He muttered darkly.

"I'll tell the kids. The only thing I want you doing right now is laying low. I need to get a hold of Owens, but it's gonna take time to do that, and more time to fix this, so as of right now, Harrington? You're on vacation." He pointed sternly, as if Steve might argue.

The kid looked too tired and messed up to bother trying.

"I mean it. You're out of the country, where is anybody's guess. No one's seen you and no one better be seeing you, got it?" His voice held firm, and Wayne had to blink because the tone here wasn't one of a police chief warning a teenager--but of a father talking to his son.

He knew, because his own voice did that now. Took on a worried tone that masqueraded as something more like annoyance and seriousness.

"Yes, Sir." Harrington said, remaining weirdly compliant. "Consider me gone."

A hand came up to briefly press above one eye, and Wayne wondered if the kid had been looked over, or if they had just crammed him into Hopper's office without offering so much as a tissue box.

How many painkillers did they have back at the house? Wayne usually kept a good bottle around, but Steve was going to need more than that…

He found himself once again cataloging Steve's wounds, this time comparing them to the medicine cabinet he had at home.

"I expect you to be a damn good house guest, you hear me?" Hopper continued, trying to cut a menacing figure. He finally found what he was looking for; pulling out a large, padded envelope.

He handed it over to Harrington, who took it without looking, shoving it into the duffle bag he'd had sitting at his feet.

There was a smudge of red on the handle of said bag, that matched perfectly up to a shittily done wrap on Steve's right hand.

Wayne mentally added 'buy more bandages' to his list.

Steve nodded at Hopper again. "Yes, Sir."

Jim’s eyes narrowed. "Quite that, you know I hate that."

The briefest glimmer of mischief crossed Harrington's face. "Sorry, Sir. Won't happen again, Sir."

'Ahh.' Wayne thought. 'So there's a teenager in there after all.'

Jim rolled his eyes. "Get out of my office."

"Thanks Hop." Harrington said, finally dropping that odd obedience, a hint of a smile on his battered face.

He stood, and Wayne had to stop himself from offering an arm out as Steve reached for his bag and limped towards him.

He paused right before he left Hopper's office, hand on the doorframe.

"You'll check up on Robin too, right?" He asked, and for the first time his tone took on something more alive--and filled with worry. "And Dustin? Erica?"

"Dustin and his mom are finally taking me up on my suggestion to see their family in Florida for a while, and the Sinclairs are taking a sabbatical from Hawkins. I'm working on the Buckley's." Hopper drummed his fingers on the desk. "So far, no one else besides you and El have been targeted, and we're going to keep it that way."

Steve let out a breath, and while Wayne could tell the worry hadn't left him, he could almost physically see Steve force himself to put it away.

Another act that was far beyond the kid's years.

A different officer popped up as they walked down the hall towards the exit, waving his hand madly. "Harrington! Chief says you forgot this!" He barked.

(Or tried to anyway. Callahan wasn’t the most aggressive of officers and frankly, never would be.)

A slim sports bag was held in his hands, and Steve nearly tripped over his own feet when he tried to turn and claim it.

"I'll get it." Wayne said, knowing his tone sounded gruff.

No use for it. He could either sound gruff or sound sad, and Wayne knew better than to start off the relationship with yet another hurt young man by acting sad.

Pity wasn't gonna win him any favors here.

He took the bag, slinging it over his shoulder, uncaring of the wince on Harrington's face until something sharp poked at his shoulder.

Several somethings, in fact.

"What the hell do you got in this thing?" He asked once they hit the parking lot, voice low as he escorted Steve to his truck.

"Just a baseball bat, sir." Steve said, in the exact same tone Eddie used every time he thought he was bein’ slick.

Considering the thing in the bag could have passed for a baseball bat if not for the sharp pokey bits, it wasn’t a bad attempt. Steve just hadn’t accounted for the fact that Wayne lived with Eddie.

An unfair advantage, really.

‘Least there can’t be any baby racoons in the damn bag.’ Wayne thought idly.

Went on to gently put the bat in the backseat, watching as the kid struggled to lift himself into the truck.

"You can drop that, I take too being called Sir about as well as Hop does." He said, keeping his tone nice and calm, hoping to ease into calling Steve out on his lie.

Fussed with a few dials on the stereo, giving Steve an excuse to take his time before starting the engine and taking the long way home.

Wayne wanted to talk a little-- without the chance of Ed’s interrupting.

"Son,” He started off. “I was born in the morning, but not this morning. I'm hoping to make the next few weeks as easy as I can for both of us, and I can't do that if you're starting off with a lie."

Steve blinked, turning to face him in a matter that was too fast for his injuries. He didn't bother hiding the hurt it caused him, but his voice stayed even as he spoke.

"What do you mean Si--Wayne."

"Nice catch.” Wayne said. “We’ll get you there yet.”

It was a trick he'd learned with Eddie--little tidbits of praise went a long way when it came to gaining trust.

Especially with kids who hadn't ever been given much.

Harrington seemed smart to it, or perhaps was just hesitant to speak in general because he remained quiet, not offering up any info. No further lies, but nothing towards the truth, neither.

Which was fine. Wayne didn’t think a little pushing would hurt.

"That bat of yours was digging into my shoulder like a bee swarm." Wayne continued, when it became clear Steve wasn't talking. "I'm more a fan of football than baseball, but last I checked they hadn't changed the design of a bat."

"What teams?" Steve asked, perking up a touch. "Of football. Which ones are yours?"

Wayne could ignore it of course, or demand Steve give him an answer to the question he asked.

He did neither. "I’m liking the Colts since they got moved here. You?"

"Green Bay Packers, though I like the Colts too--that trade in 84’ was crazy." Steve said. After a second he proved that answering instead of pushing was the right move because he added; "What did Hopper tell you? About…" He trailed off, making a gesture Wayne didn't bother trying to interpret.

"He said some things. I've guessed a few others." Wayne admitted. Cut a little look out of the corner of his eye as he came to a stop sign. "I know the feds are real interested in you after Starcourt."

Steve took that in, hands tightening on the handle.

"It really is a baseball bat." He said, a little fast and with the tiniest hint of that challenge Wayne had been looking for. "It just also has nails hammered into one end."

Wayne took that in with one nice, slow blink.

"A bat with nails in it." He said, and it made a hell of a lot of sense compared to the sensation he'd felt carrying the case. "You use it against anyone?"

"Some of the feds." Steve admitted, and even with his eyes on the road Wayne could tell he was being stared at.

Judged.

Not in the way one expected a rich kid to judge, but in the way Eddie had, those first few months he'd lived here. The times when he'd push, just a little, to see what Wayne's reaction would be.

Eddie hadn't done it in a damn long time, but Wayne recognized the behavior nonetheless.

"Anybody else?" He asked.

"Nobody human." Steve replied.

"Alright." Wayne said, and made a mental note to drop all questions related to that.

He didn't need to know, definitely didn't want to know, and had a feeling if he did know he'd find himself being watched by the same spooks after Steve.

"I've got a few deck boxes that lock on my porch. Think you'd be agreeable to leaving the bat in one?"

Steve paused, hand clenching tighter around the strap of his duffel bag. "If you gave me a key so I could get it in an emergency, I'd be happy to."

He tried to sound calm, even a little charming in that sort of upper-class businessman sort of way, but the fear bled through.

The kid wasn't happy separating from the bat, and given it sounded like it might have saved his life recently, Wayne understood the hesitation.

With an internal apology to Eddie, he promptly threw his nephew under the proverbial bus. "I've got my nephew at home and he'd be far too interested in it, is all. Blades and weapons and such tend to attract him, and I don't need to be rushing anyone to the ER."

All of which were very true facts (one Wayne learned the time he'd allowed Eddie to bring a sword home, only for him to nearly cut his own nose off winging the thing around) but he figured it might make Steve more amenable to separating from it.

Sure enough, some of the tenseness bled out of Steve's shoulders. "Yeah that's fair."

The truck hit a few potholes as they finally turned into the trailer park, and the kid hissed, a quiet sound.

Judging by the uncomfortable wince, and hands clenched into his jeans something painwise was giving him trouble.

"When was the last time you took a pain pill?" Wayne asked, doing his best to weave around the other holes that dotted the gravel roads.

Steve blinked. "Uh…"

"You take any today son?"

Steve his head.

"Didn't have time to grab it." He said, offering a sad look to his pack.

Course he hadn't.

"Let's get you inside then and get you some." Wayne said with a sigh. Thankfully Eddie's van wasn't here--Wayne was fairly certain he had band practice today but knowing him it could be a million other things.

Just meant he had to acclimate Steve as fast as he could, to try and get the poor guy settled before Ed’s came in.

He just hoped life and lady luck would work with him, for once.

#hands on knees #this is gonna have more than three parts fffffff #FAIR WARNING I do jump between Wayne and Eddie’s pov in this.#Everything Ive written so far while in parts for tumblr would basically be chapter 1 on A03 #Eddies POV change would be chapter two #Ugh Im gonna have to put this on A03. Dammit brain.#also I updated this very fast for me #no one get excited Idk the brain is doing #steddie #beat to shit Steve Harrington #wayne pov #outsider pov #wayne as a BAMF #I tried to get to the part where Eddie shows up but it just got too long for a tumblr post #pre steddie #wayne and Hopper both as psuedo parents to Steve #tw injuries #0o0 fanfics #stranger things

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bloodydeanwinchester · 2 months

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DESTIEL IN EVERY EPISODE → 5x04 the end

dean immediately clocking 2014!dean's jealousy like "what could this mean???"

#this is another episode where there were sooooo many scenes i could have chosen from!#but like...this scene is dean perceiving destiel for the first time from an outsiders pov!! and BOY is there something to see there or what #also yes i know they changed it to say like instead of love but also i dont care<3 #destieleveryepisode #spn 5x04 #destieledit #spnedit #cowboycoven #spn #destiel #dean winchester #castiel #altarofrowena

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cupiddstarrie · 10 months

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and i guess ill just miss him… even if he isn’t even really gone, but things are just different

#Though my malleable design may constantly change he’ll always have fluffy hair dw #My art #Pov im never beating those inconsistent art style allegations #Nooooo I didn’t get lazy in the end #Malleus #Malleus Draconia #Twisted Wonderland #Malleus art #twisted wonderland art #twisted wonderland fanart #malleus draconia art #Malleus x reader #twst art #I think i have carpal tunnel 🤯

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birdricks · 4 months

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the final phrase of my last sentence / hangs in the air, sounding stupider and stupider

#THE LINK IS MY BIRDRICK PLAYLIST. LISTEN TO IT PLEASEEEEE #rick and morty #birdrick #rick sanchez #rick c137 #oh my GOD i struggled w the colours on this one. im SOOOO bad at colours man 😭😭😭😭😭 bane of my life #idgaf if this isnt how it happened in the actual scene. imagery over truth #if it bothers u ummm imagine its a dream or smth.#had to take dreadful reference pics of myslef for this. worth it #i might change the playlist art at some point to smth more fitting but idgaf i just want to show ppl now #and ive wanted to draw this for a whileee now lol #BUT YEAHHHHH. LISTEN TO MY PLAYLIST BOY #artsbotz #oh my god ok im not makinga ny more tiny edits. POST #COMPLETELY FORGOT TO TALK ABT THE PLAYLIST LOL #urmm hopefully its kinda clear which pov each song is. except a few kinda mixed ones #it goesssss all the way from them meeting up until like. s5 ending kinda #apologies again for all the csh. youll have to cope im afraid #its vital listening. listen to twin fantasy btw. btw

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ninyard · 2 months

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#what do you mean ‘JEAN’#what do u mean tsc is gonna have changing POVS #aftg #tsc #Jean Moreau

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huitandahalf · 2 months

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I know that we got plenty of options as to how everything with the Ender King is going to go down, but a thought that has not left my mind was the idea of the Ender King downing qPhil in some way and taking him away. Which means there would be a chat message for all to see :)

For example :)

#qsmp #qsmp philza #this could be better or worse depending on how many people qPhil tells about the whole mess (itll probably be 0 tbh)#cause if he tells no one #not even his kids #then it will be a gut punch #like pov you are chayanne and tallulah #you just lost your godfather in Tubbo #you may have just lost someone who really cares for you in Bad #and you gotta hold onto your dad right? if something was wrong he would have told you right? he promised to not keep secrets right?#and now hes gone without a word #was the Ender King that much of a threat that he could take your dad without any hint that it could happen? or were there just signs #that you missed. that you could have seen and stopped. you could have saved your dad but you didnt. why didnt you notice him change?#and to a lesser extent there is also the gut punch to fitmc #pov you are fitmc #phil promised to keep you updated on all the hallucination stuff and hasnt said anything to you about it in a long time #thats a good sign right? itd be bad if the Ender King was real and came to help phil anyway #he had some crying obsidian appear in his inventory? clearly the admins are messing with him it couldnt be anything #and now hes gone #and you find out that he was hiding things from you from his children #there were more messages more hallucinations #why didnt he tell you?#did he not trust you? hes right to do it but you thought he trusted you with this at the very least #and now #what do you do?#you dont even know where to start in looking for him #did he really trust you that little?

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zambomarti · 3 months

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This entire article is an attack on my sanity

And that last part made me howl.

Toby, say it louder!

#percy jackson #posally #poseidon #sally jackson #my sanity is gone #I'm a disaster for those three #lives have been changed and hearts have been broken #toby literally went into poseidon character and said “i will destroy everyone's heart”#one of the best performances of the show #Ever since I started reading pjo I've always imagined Poseidon like this even if Percy's POV didn't allow us to see him #the fandom is just full of people who can't read between the lines #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #pjo tv series

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bumblingbabooshka · 1 month

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[Tuvok & Janeway: Control, Distance, Duty & Connection.] Sources: St Voyager Transcripts / Mitski 'First Love Late Spring' / Disco Elysium

#web weaving #star trek web weaving #st voyager #Kathryn Janeway #Tuvok #be the change you want to see in the world - make a long post about Tuvok & Janeway's similarities <- angel on my shoulder #I feel like a lot of people see them as 'opposites attract' sort of friends where Janeway is unhinged & Tuvok reigns her in #but in reality I think that while there is that element in there (exacerbated HEAVILY by their delta quad circumstances)#what I see most in their relationship is how they both value loyalty and duty above all and are extremely rigid with themselves #and the people around them. How they both have to maintain distance from others bc of their positions as captain & vulcan #I hate when people dismiss Tuvok as not being remotely interested in Maryana or Noss - it erases an interesting struggle that he and Janewa #both share - their desire to stay loyal to their spouses vs the 70 years of loneliness that that loyalty demands of them #But they BOTH triumph and they BOTH remain loyal (Tuvok until he returns to T'Pel and Janeway until Mark informs her that it's over)#and for both of them it's a little bit insane for them to do that.#Isn't it more interesting that Janeway and Tuvok both have feelings for people other than their spouses but don't give in #to that temptation?#They're both people who live very fastidiously by codes. Either written codes or moral codes - they very rarely if ever do things because #it's what THEY want to do. I'd say they're the least emotion-driven members of the crew and yes I'm including Seven because Seven #has a very...how to describe? It's a blunt and insular selfishness. She does what SHE wants to do and doesn't really care about others.#To me that's emotion-driven. Or...personal desire-driven? Not a bad thing at all but very different from Janeway & Tuvok who #are always more 'this is logical' or 'this is for the crew' rarely do they think 'this is what I want' bc they can't afford to #for different reasons (captain & vulcan)#they both also are in the most 'caretaking' positions on the ship from my POV. Security and Captain - both are directly in charge of #ship and crew safety.#Janeway & Tuvok #star trek voyager #st voy #when I say caretaking I'm NOT saying they're everyone's mom and dad or whatever - I'm saying they're in positions where they always #have to think about the greater good and the crew as a whole and how much danger is acceptable etc etc.#Janeway is always killing herself for the crew but Tuvok is right there beside her

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metal-mouse · 1 year

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Let Me Make it Up to You

pairing: Sebastian Sallow x F!MC (m/f) themes: creepy liminal lake. smut. sort of established relationship. warnings: 18+ this contains spice and filth. oral sex. p in v unprotected sex. dominant-ish Sebastian. m/f pairing. characters aged up. not safe for work y'all. mc almost drowns. summary: just over 3k words. After a poorly executed treasure hunt, Sebastian Sallow must make it up to you somehow. note: something about shower sex with Sebastian just really appeals to me idk. This is mostly self-indulgent but I liked it enough to post it. It's way longer than I thought it would be lmao. 99% unedited because I'm lazy. i've never like properly tried to write smut in a way that makes sense for other people bc of course I can picture what I'm writing in my head, so it's a little detail lacking currently. it'll be interesting to see my writing style progress.

You stood beside Sebastian Sallow at the edge of a dark lake found deep within a cave he’d read about. Sebastian had heard a rumor of a ‘great’ treasure within the cave, and had begged you to come along with him to retrieve it once he had located it. You had agreed, but now you were a little less enthusiastic. From your spot on the shoreline, you could see a painted chest sitting on a small mass of land closer to the middle of the lake. The only way to the chest was to swim. You’d both spent a rather long time trying to summon the chest, and it wouldn’t budge.

“Draw sticks?” Sebastian asked, tilting his head as you looked up at him.

“You always cheat.” You frowned. You already knew it was going to be you to swim across the gap. Sebastian’s ability to ask something of you and for you to agree was… unfortunate at times.

“You’re just so much better than I am at everything.” Sebastian pouted. His hand stroked down the back of your arm, the warmth piercing through the thin fabric of your shirtsleeve. You stepped out of his touch and kicked off your shoes with a sigh.

“This treasure better be worth it, Sallow.” You looked back at him, unbuttoning your trousers and stepping out of them. You pulled your shirt off, discarding it next to your trousers. There was no use in getting all of your clothes wet. Aside from your undergarments, you kept the small pouch that Ominis had helped you enchant to hold far more than should be possible for the size of the pouch. You walked to the edge of the lake, looking down into the murky water. A pulse of fear passed over you, making your heart flutter. It was unnerving not being able to see anything in the lake - you didn’t like not knowing what was coming. Taking a deep breath, you stepped off the edge. You panicked momentarily as you plunged entirely under the frigid water. There was no gradual slope to deep water, it was just a drop-off. You pushed upwards, gasping for air as you surfaced.

“Are you alright?” Sebastian asked, his concern would be touching if he hadn’t just guilt tripped you into doing this.

“‘S cold.” You managed to say, the cold water made it a little difficult to breathe. You kicked your feet and used your arms to propel you forward towards the island, spurred on by the thought that you had no idea what was beneath you. The sooner you were out of the murky water the better. It didn’t take you long to get to the island and haul yourself up onto the stone surface. Being in the air was even worse than the water now, the cool air of the cave chilling you thoroughly to the bone. You hurried across towards the chest, silently hoping it would be easy enough for you to open.

“What’s in it?” Sebastian called out, his voice echoing around the chamber.

“Alohamora!” You cast. The lock clicked open and you eagerly lifted the lid. The chest held an assortment of jewelry, and a bag of gold coins. They weren’t galleons, they were some sort of ancient muggle currency. They’d certainly fetch a fair price either way. Your anger towards Sebastian was fading quickly, especially as you picked up a particularly ornate necklace. You made quick work of stuffing everything into the leather pouch, eager to be out of the chilly cave. It was easier this time jumping back into the water, you knew what to expect this time. You swam back towards Sebastian who called out words of encouragement. As you neared the middle of the stretch, something felt wrong. An overwhelming sense of danger filled you, and that’s when a cold hand wrapped around your ankle. You barely had time to gasp for breath as that hand was joined by several more and you were pulled under the surface.

Sebastian yelled out your name as you disappeared under the surface. He ran to the edge, but could only see a stream of bubbles coming up from the black water. Panic clouded his mind at the thought of you being hurt, and it would all be his fault. This wasn’t exactly an enemy he could see and fight. He had no idea what to do, how could he save you if he couldn’t see you? He reasoned that you were very capable and strong, you’d gotten out of sticky situations like this before. Far too much time had passed for his comfort, and he knew he had to do something. He dumped his cloak on the ground, preparing to dive in for you when he saw a flash of red light from the deep. As soon as he could see you, he dropped down and snatched your hand hauling you out of the water. Your skin was freezing cold, and you began to cough violently as you flopped down. About a dozen grindylows floated to the surface dead until their surviving companions yanked their bodies downwards, no doubt to feast on them.

“Are you alright?” Sebastian gasped out, putting his hand on your shoulder. You snatched his wrist, looking up at him with bloodshot, furious eyes. They almost seemed to glow with your rage. Sebastian knew then he was in a lot of trouble.

“Don’t.” Your voice was a strangled wheeze, and Sebastian withdrew his hand like he’d been burned. He had half a mind to run away from you, his eyes flicked to your wand still clutched in your other hand. He knew what you could do with it and he suddenly wasn’t keen on dueling with you. Sebastian obeyed, stepping back from you as you got to your feet. He apparated as soon as you pointed your wand at him. The last time he’d pissed you off he had ended up with no eyebrows and two inch long front teeth that had taken three hours for Nurse Blainey to fix.

Sebastian ran the rest of the way back to Hogwarts, he knew he didn’t have much time to hide from you or get you calmed down. He had to find Ominis. If anyone could get you to calm down, it was Ominis. Sebastian knew he had a habit of fanning the flames of your anger, while Ominis did a wonderful job of quelling them.

Students watched him and more than one person called out to him as he ran past. He was panting heavily by the time he found Ominis who sat with Poppy Sweeting. Poppy looked up at him with wide eyes as he thundered to a halt in front of them.

“What did you do?” Ominis asked calmly.

“You have to hide me!” Sebastian was desperate.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing! I didn’t do anything - how was I supposed to know there were Grindylows?”

“Grindylows? Where did you find Grindylows?”

“A cave. It’s a long story. Please hide me. She’s going to kill me.” Sebastian pleaded.

“Is she alright?” Ominis asked. Sebastian knew his time was running out. He had to find somewhere safe until you cooled down enough for him to safely approach. He’d make it up to you somehow. He’d find a way to make you forgive him.

“She’s fine. Please, Ominis! You have to talk to her. I’ve never run so fast in my life.”

“You ran from her? What is wrong with you?” Poppy burst out, smacking Sebastian on the arm. He gave her a stunned look, unused to such outbursts from her. Ominis sighed sharply through his nose, shaking his head slowly.

“My friend, I’m afraid there is nothing I can do for you. She only gets angrier when they run.” Ominis’ lips pressed together in a firm line. Sebastian knew the bastard was trying not to smile. When they run. Sebastian knew he was right, he’d been on enough quests to rescue beasts with you that he knew how furious you got when you had to chase what you sought.

“I’ll buy all your butterbeers for the rest of the year!” Sebastian burst out. Ominis tilted his head, considering the offer. Sebastian bounced on his feet, anxious to get to safety.

“Go. I’ll try to talk to her.” Ominis said, smirking.

“SALLOW!” Your voice boomed through the hallways, and Sebastian turned and ran.

“My goodness! What happened to you?” Poppy Sweeting asked.

“Where is he?” You snapped, and Sebastian took a pinch of floo powder and went as far away as he could.

You knew Sebastian had put Ominis and Poppy up to pacifying you, and while your friends hadn’t eliminated all of your anger they had made you promise not to kill Sebastian. He should consider himself lucky that you respected Ominis and Poppy far too much to go against their wishes. You were cold, damp, and uncomfortable, so you had decided to give up your hunt and make your way to the showers. You stood in the warm water, letting it rinse off the remnants of nasty lake water from your hair and body. You were absorbed in fantasies of revenge as you ran your hands through your hair to loosen some of the knots that had formed during your pursuit of Sebastian. The warm water was a blessing compared to the frigid and dingy lake.

You let out a little hiss when a cold breeze pushed around the steam you had accumulated in the shower room leaving goosebumps all over your body. You shrank further into the shower, annoyed thoroughly with whoever was intruding on your murder plotting time. When the steam closed around you again, you sighed with contentment and closed your eyes. Broad hands gripped your hips. You knew those hands. Sebastian planted kisses on your shoulder as his chest pressed against your back. You ignored him, just as you ignored how easily his touch affected you.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, nudging your cheek with his nose before kissing your jaw. “Let me make it up to you.” He said, pulling you back closer to him. You could feel his hardness pressed against your backside, and it took a lot of effort to not react. You fought to keep a straight face as his hands moved from your hips. One hand moved up towards your chest, the other down to your lower belly. Sebastian kept you pressed against him as his knuckles lightly traced the underside of your breast. He leaned in and kissed your neck as his fingers brushed against your nipple. You were determined. Adamant. He wasn’t going to get a single thing from you. You could feel him watching you very carefully, and when he bit down on that spot where your neck met your shoulder you couldn’t stop your reaction. All it took was a slight tilt of your head, and he knew he had you.

“There’s my girl.” He murmured, his hand on your lower belly traveling downwards. His girl. Eternally possessive. When his fingers slid between your wet folds, he let out a dark laugh.

“I knew you wanted it. Look how wet you are already.” He said, nipping your ear with his teeth. He began to rub his fingers in small circles over your clit and you relaxed into his arms.

“I hate you so much.” You breathed out, one hand reaching back and gripping Sebastian’s thick hair.

“Mmmm I can tell.” The depth of his voice in your ear sent chills through your entire body as he kept up a steady, lazy pace between your legs. His other hand rolled your nipple between his fingers. You subtly ground your backside against Sebastian’s erection. You smirked at his abrupt groan. His fingers on your nipple pressed harder giving you a sharp pinch. You twisted enough to look up at him, marveling in his appearance. The flush of his cheeks, the fire in his eyes, the arrogant bastard smile playing at his lips. He let go of your nipple, his hand coming up to wrap around your throat. He turned you around and pushed you against the wall of the shower cubicle, not once stopping those lazy little circles that were quickly unraveling you. Your hands fell to your sides.

Sebastian kissed you then, deep and intense like he always did. His tongue brushed against your lower lip, and you opened up for him. His taste was intoxicating and mixed with the feeling of his teasing touch on your sensitive clit you were approaching an euphoric sensation. You moaned into his mouth as he slid two fingers inside of you.

“Fuck, I love it when you moan like that.” Sebastian’s voice was husky as he mumbled against your lips. He kissed along your jaw and down on your neck finding that spot that made you so weak. His hand moved from your throat up to your hair which he gripped tightly as his fingers curled delightfully inside of you making sighs and small moans tumble from your lips. How he could do so little to make you feel so good was incredible.

“It’s so hard to be patient for you and that sweet cunt,” his breath tickled your neck, “can you be a quiet girl for me?” He asked, fucking you with his fingers. Right. You were in the shared showers during a Saturday afternoon where all of your classmates had all the free time in the world. You nodded, and instantly regretted it from the grin on his face as his fingers slid out of you and he knelt on the ground in front of you. One hand prompted your left leg to lift, you obeyed and he put it over his shoulder. Sebastian’s hands floated up and down your thighs as he moved in closer. He bit down on the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh, and your hand flew to your mouth to stifle your cry. He looked up at you with those eyes of fire, his tongue experimentally swiping along your entrance.

“Sweet. My sweet girl.” He gave a low groan, and started his assault. His tongue swiped shapes over your clit, and you had to bite down on your hand to stop yourself from making too much noise. He flattened his tongue lapping you up, you were already sensitive from his earlier work and it wasn’t taking long for an orgasm to start building up. He seemed to know it too. His tongue swirled over your clit, and he slotted two of his fingers back inside of you.

“F-fuck, Sebastian.” You stammered against your hand at the overwhelming sensation. The pressure of his tongue against your clit and his fingers curling against your sweet spot… it was too much. Your head fell back as you began to fall apart, your fingers lacing in Sebastian’s hair for fear that he would stop. You bit down harder on your hand to choke on the scream as your legs began to tremble. Sebastian moaned against you as you came for him. He let you ride out your orgasm on his face, not stopping until your fingers loosened slightly from his hair. You looked down to see him rock hard, flushed, and his eyes seemingly begging for you.

You took him under his chin, your leg falling to the side as you prompted to stand. He stood, his fingers once again leaving you empty. His hands curled around your ass, and he lifted you and pinned you between him and the cubicle wall. Your legs squeezed him, holding yourself up as he positioned himself at your entrance. His lips crashed against yours when he thrust inwards, both of you making a desperate attempt to remain quiet. His hips rolled as he fucked you hard and steady. When he was feeling particularly cruel, he would edge you until you were in tears, however today he was in just as much need as you were. You loved the way he filled you up. His steady pace had his head lightly pressing your cervix, hitting all the right spots. You hadn’t realized how good someone could make you feel until you’d slept with him for the first time. With the way he was fucking you, you could feel your pleasure rapidly approaching for the second time in a matter of minutes.

Sebastian was in your ear, whispering about how much he loved you, how he’d always protect you, and how he was oh so sorry for letting you jump into that lake for the Grindylows to attack. You were in ecstasy, unable to respond as he ground his pelvis against your sensitive bud. His rhythm faltered slightly, and you knew he was close.

“I love you.” You breathed out, knowing it was exactly what he needed to hear. His response was a low, guttural groan. His thrusts got sloppier, before he abruptly pulled out. You dropped your hand quickly, wrapping around his shaft and finishing him off as he came all over your stomach. Your legs dropped to the ground, and Sebastian’s head dropped to your shoulder as you both fought to catch your breath. After a few heartbeats, his head lifted and he kissed you again. His kisses after sex were always so sweet, so emotional.

“Are you okay?” He asked you, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze as he stood up straight. You nodded, admiring the loving glow in his eyes.

“I really am sorry.” He promised.

“I know, Sebastian. It’s alright.” You caressed his cheek, and he pulled you in for a long embrace. You stood like that for a long time, before cleaning off properly and getting out of the shower before someone could catch you in there together. You felt relaxed now, your anger completely forgotten as Sebastian put a fluffy bathrobe around your shoulders and pressed a kiss to your cheek. He may be sweet now, but you knew it was only a matter of time before he filled you with so much rage you thought you could kill him. At least you could look forward to how he would make up for it.

“So, are we still splitting the treasure 50-50?” Sebastian asked, grinning at you. You smiled back at him shaking your head at his audacity, perhaps he would be making it up to you sooner than you thought.

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow smut #ominis and poppy mentioned but not clogging their tags #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow one shot #in this episode we're discovering i need to work on filling in detail/pov changes/sentence structure/past present tense consistency #reni writes #good morning everyone lol have 3k words of sebastian

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pastadoughie · 4 months

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im gonna scream and cry n throw uop i with i wasnt so unattractiv

#like i know #it does not fucking mattor from liek a personale pov?#liek if im attractive. like im not dating anybody. i am 16 yearz old #but alsoe that commente ignorze the realley real fact that being moar attrtativ genuineley makese people treat u bettor #n take u more srsly #i used to be liek #a skinny girl with wavy blonde hair i waz v comventonaley attractive #n even tho people should NOT HAVE BEEN TREATING ME LIEK THAT BECAUZ I WAS LIKE 13!!#i got way moar positive recepshin 2 my appearanse #n now that im like #a sweaty gamer boy every tiem liek #i EXTREMELEY RARELEY show anybodey what i look liek #someone makese fun of my appearance. every time.#and liek... its not....... funny its genuiinely something i struggle with alot #liek haha its so funny 2 make fun of the recovered bulimic for his facial preportions something he is phisicaley unabl 2 change #people gotta be moar normal abt ppol they dont find attractive #the beast speaks #hell on earth #kinda a venty post i just want someone 2 talk abt how making fun of unattractiv people iz shitty n i can bea liek yea for realsies #screaming and scampering

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wastefulreverie · 2 years

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“no one has brown eyes in amity park”

The DMV just outside of Amity Park was a small, red-bricked building with poor air conditioning and a waiting room full of broken chairs. Eva stood by the wall, stiff, waiting with her uncle for the results of her driver's permit test. After almost twenty minutes, the woman at the counter called her name and she followed her uncle with bated breath.

Oh God, what if she didn't pass? Then she would have to wait and take it again and she wouldn't be able to get her license when she turned sixteen and she'd be the last of the A-Listers to drive and—!

"You passed," the woman said. "You were one point from failing."

Her uncle clapped her on the back. "See, I told you it would be fine."

The woman at the counter began entering in more information into the computer, having her sign a few papers here and there. She paused on the question about organ donation—sending a pang through her heart. It hadn’t been more than three months since her mom passed. Died on the list for a new liver.

Her uncle’s eyes softened in understanding. “Eva, you don’t have to—”

“Yes,” she hissed. “Yes. I’ll do it.”

The rest of the questions were standard.

"Height?"

"Five-four."

"Weight?"

"One-hundred fifty."

"Eye color?"

"Brown."

The woman stopped typing and looked up from the screen. She met Eva’s gaze with her own light teal eyes.

"Pardon?"

"I have brown eyes?"

"What, so you wear colored contacts?"

"Uh, no. My natural eyes are brown. The most common eye color?"

The woman blinked a few times before turning back to the keyboard. She squinted at the screen, a little put off.

"How strange," she murmured. "Brown eyes."

Later, she left the DMV with a temporary paper driver's permit in her wallet. Her hair was frizzier than she'd like because of the heat and her pupils were constricted from the camera flash, almost lost to her caramel-colored irises.

—

Her uncle needed his eyes dilated. She couldn’t remember what for, but she was more than eager to get more experience behind the wheel.

She found a chair near the corner of the waiting room and settled down with her phone.

One of the optometrists walked through the waiting room and stopped in front of her. His brow furrowed in confusion.

Had something gone wrong with the dilation? How did someone mess that up?

“Um,” he said, “I couldn’t help but notice your eyes.”

She raised a brow. “Aren’t you an eye doctor?”

“Yes. Well, I mean—” he stopped “—I noticed your eye color. It’s peculiar. Is it real?”

“You’re asking if my brown eyes are real?” she said slowly. It wasn’t the first time she’d gotten a comment like that in Amity Park and it was starting to weird her out. No one in her old town had spared a second thought about her eyes. “Yeah. They’re real.”

He paled. “I’m sorry if that was a rude question. I just, I’ve been working here for almost two decades now. I don’t see many people with brown eyes.”

“How’s that? It’s the most common eye color.”

His lips formed a straight line. “Maybe outside. Amity Park is different, though. I had a patient eight—maybe nine—years ago. He moved here from Vermont. His eyes were brown too, the first time he came in for an appointment. I saw him a year after that, and his eyes had faded to hazel green.”

“And this was an adult?”

He nodded. “The strangest part was that he didn’t remember. Insisted his eyes had always been hazel green. Spooked out all of us.”

“I just moved here a few months ago,” she admitted, a little shaken. “That won’t happen to me, will it?”

The optometrist shrugged. “Stranger things have happened in Amity Park.”

His phone went off and he fumbled for it, swearing.

“I’m sorry, I have to take this.”

He ran out of the waiting room, giving Eva far more than she would like to think about.

—

On the morning of her sixteenth birthday, Eva’s uncle let her drive them both to the DMV. They got breakfast on the way there, sharing fast food breakfast sandwiches in the parking lot.

When it came to the actual driving test, she passed with flying colors. She adjusted her mirrors and her seat, buckled up, drove a circle around the DMV, checked her blind spot before she merged lanes, and showed the instructor she could parallel park.

When she went inside to officialize her license—her actual, full-fledged driver’s license!—the woman at the counter confirmed all her information. She’d gained an inch in the past half-year and she insisted she was still the same weight, even though she was a good five pounds heavier. Although, what confused her was her eye color.

She frowned at the “BRN” stamped on her permit.

“My eyes are green, though.”

The woman at the counter hummed. “Must be an error. I’ll change it.”

“Hm. Yeah,” Eva eyed her photo from her learner’s permit on the counter, bright green eyes and all, “don’t know how I didn’t notice it before.”

#Danny Phantom #look i don't remember the order of things when i got my license so it's probably wrong #had the idea the other day at work that rather bc b*tch h*rtman hating brown eyed people that its just supernatural stuff #amity park is a weird fucking town #my idea that i could have expanded on more is that people from the outside cant see ghosts but the longer you stay you CAN see ghosts #and as a result your eye color changes if you have brown eyes. sometimes to purple. or green or blue #and i know there are a few rare brown eyed characters in DP and I raise A) theyre newcomers or B) wearing colored contacts #thats it thats my headcanon enjoy this mess #outsider POV #fanfiction #Danny Phantom fanfiction #phicc #phic #wrwritings

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sp0o0kylights · 9 months

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Part Two / Part Three

Ao3

It's 8:45 am.

The Red Barn, which is neither red nor a barn, has been open since 7, catering to the early morning crowd with rounds of coffee and pancakes.

It was no Benny's, but given the size of Hawkins and the lack of alternatives?

No one was complaining.

They were all too happy someone had opened up another watering hole for the working class man (or lass, as Foreman Shelly will dutifully remind you) which meant the place was packed with both day and night shift regulars, passing each other in staggered waves.

It also meant Wayne was sharing the packed breakfast counter with a warehouse worker by the name of John Cheese on one side and Police Chief Jim Hopper on the other.

He doesn't mind it.

Wayne's a man on a budget thinner than his shoelace, but he's also a man who understands that small indulgences need to be made in life or you didn't truly live it.

This is how he convinces himself to get a coffee at the Barn after work everyday, reading the morning newspaper and chatting with the other regulars before he heads home.

Bonus, it gets him out of the rapid-fire franticness that is his nephew in the mornings.

(All the love in the world wouldn't change the fact that all that Eddie came with a lot of noise.

The kind of noise that was a tried and true recipe for a headache right after a long shift.)

As a trade off, Wayne went to bed early so he could wake up in time for dinner with Eddie.

It was a nice little system that worked for them.

A routine Wayne was reminiscing fondly on, when the pager on Chief Hopper started to chirp. With a sad moan, the man fished out a few crumbled bills and threw them on the counter, abandoning his coffee to trudge out to his truck.

This was not unusual.

Particularly recently, given they were but a scant few weeks past that whole mall ordeal. A fact all too easy to remember when one caught sight of the Chief’s still healing face.

What was unusual, was when he came storming through the doors a minute later, face now a furious shade of red with his hat clenched in his hand.

The energy in the room shifted, taking on something a little watchful as Hopper swept his gaze from side to side, like a dog on the hunt.

Judging by the way he stilled when he caught sight of Wayne, the latter assumed he found what he was looking for and could only pray it was the person behind him.

(He liked John, but Wayne had enough trouble this year and he wasn't looking for any more.)

"Munson." Hopper called, striding over and dashing all his hopes. There was a choked fury emitting off him, and given the way John audibly scooted his chair away, Wayne knew everyone had clocked it.

"Chief." Wayne greeted, inclining his head towards him.

Idly he wondered what the hell his nephew had done this time.

'So help me if he stole all the town's lawn flamingos and put them in that damn teachers yard again….'

Wayne didn't even get to finish his threat, the Chief was already next to him.

"Mind if I have a word outside?"

Dammit Eddie.

"Ah hell, what's he done now?" Wayne asked with a sigh, eyeing the coffee he had left morosely.

There was still almost half of it left and the pot had tasted fresh for once.

"What?" Hopper said, and then Wayne got to watch as the man ran through an entire chain of thoughts, each one punctuated by things like; "Oh," and "No. "

"This is something else." He finished, flushed and fidgeting, anger making him antsy.

Wayne stared up at him.

"Something else?" He repeated, not sure he heard.

"Yes, something else." Hopper snapped impatiently, before leaning forward, voice dropping low. "This doesn't involve your nephew, but we both know you owe me for how many times I've let that kid off, Wayne. That's a damn big favor I've been doing you and I'm calling it in."

If it were any other cop, it'd sound like a threat.

It was Hopper though. The same Hopper who Wayne had gone to school with.

They'd never been friends exactly, but they had been friendly and remained so. Even now, after Wayne had taken Eddie in, who’d gone on to be an undeniable pain in the local PD’s ass.

Hopper really did let the kid off easy.

Wayne really did owe him.

So he put down his coffee with a sigh, passed his newspaper over to John and stood up, motioning for Hopper to lead the way. Got into the Chief’s truck when he waved him in, and didn’t make a big fuss when Hopper tore out of the parking lot like hell was about to open up under them.

"Not a lot of the kids involved in the mall fire could be identified, but a few of them were." Hopper started, which felt nonsensical given the utter lack of context.

Wayne hummed to show he’d heard.

“Some of them got banged up more than others, and a lot of people wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t make it.”

A pause, Hopper white knuckling the steering wheel as he swung the truck hard around a turn.

“For certain people, those kids dying is the preferred outcome.”

A mix of fear and warning swopped low in Wayne’s gut.

"Jim." Wayne said, dropping the use of a last name because if any situation called for it, it was this one. "What exactly are you saying here?"

The Chief chewed on his split lip.

"I know you're smart, Munson. I know you, and plenty of others are aware that something's happening, been happening in this town."

Which was a hell of an understatement if you asked Wayne. Plenty of the upper classes might be able to bury their heads when it came to the military parading about and the flow of “accidents” they brought in their wake, but then, they didn't see all the other signs of trouble.

The absolute oddity that was Starcourt’s construction.

How it had been built using primarily outside crews and anyone who'd taken a singular look at the site could tell you they were building it weird.

Weird as in it looked like it would have a multi-level basement, and not what a mall should have.

Then there were the constant electrical problems. The backups upon backups that failed. The late night delivery vans headed out to the Hawkins Lab.

The things in the woods that kept spooking all the deer and the weird markings they left behind that unnerved even the hardest of hunters.

This didn’t even touch the Russian military that more than one reputable person swore was hanging around.

The very same Wayne himself had seen, on more than one occasion.

(And you couldn’t deny it; those boys were military. Past or present, it didn’t matter. They moved like a threat, and Wayne treated them like one, staying well clear.)

"Yeah." Wayne admitted. "I also know better than to stick my nose in it."

"That makes you a smarter man than me.' Hop complained under his breath, but the anger was self directed.

"The point is, there are some government types crawling around, doing shit they shouldn't be doing, and more than a few of them are in the business of making people disappear.”

This was absolutely not where Wayne had thought this was going.

Hopper took a breath. Than another.

A third.

It was starting to make Wayne nervous, in a way he hadn’t felt since a social worker had brought Eddie to him for the last time and final time. It was the feeling that things were about to shift in a way that would change the course of his life.

"Steve Harrington is sitting in my office right now, beat to absolute shit.” Hopper admitted.

Wayne gave him the floor to talk, letting him go at his own pace without interruptions.

“He's there because some of those government types finally figured out his parents are never fucking home.”

Wayne sucked in a breath.

"We both know his parents, Wayne. Harassing them to come back and take care of their kid won't work, and frankly, I’m beginning to think all the phone lines are tapped anyway.” He winced here, like voicing such a thing pained him, and Wayne understood.

It sounded a little too out there, a little like he was buying into a conspiracy.

Except he wasn’t. Wayne knew he wasn’t.

Jim Hopper might have been an alcoholic, a man living in pain and unconcerned with his own life, but if there was one thing he was solid for, it was shit like this.

He didn’t jump to conclusions. Didn’t believe the first thing people told him. Even at his worst, he did the work to see what was really happening, and made his decisions from there.

(Even if that decision was to accept the occasional bribe, or drive an intoxicated 13 year old Eddie home instead of hauling his ass into the drunk tank.)

“Harrington won’t admit it, but he’s got a hell of a concussion if not a full blown brain injury and he’s not reacting as well as he should to Suites trying to run him off the road.” Hopper continued. Angrily, he added, “Damn kid didn’t even come to me until they tried to break into his house last night.”

His fingers squeezed the wheel so hard Wayne heard the leather creak in protest.

“I’d take him, but my cabin is being renovated from…” He trailed off, heaving a sigh.

“A storm, so me and my kid are bunked with the Byers right now and we’re full up.”

Hawkins hadn't had a storm like that in years, but Wayne wasn't going to call him out on the blatant lie.

“I need a place to stash him for the next few weeks, until I can work with some of the higher ups sniffing around, and get them to call off their attack dogs.”

“And you want to stuff him with me.” Wayne finished.

“I know you don’t have the room.” Hopper admitted easily, stopping his truck at a red light and locking eyes with the other man. “But I also know you’ll be the last place anyone would look for him.”

'Ain’t that the damn truth.'

“You’re really gonna go this far for a Harrington?” Wayne asked, instead of the million of other questions leaping to the forefront of his mind.

This one, he figured, was the most important.

“He’s not his dad.” Hopper said, as firm as Wayne had ever heard him. “He’s not either of his parents, and he saved my little girl.”

Wayne hadn’t even known Hopper had another little girl, but he also knew better than to ask where the guy had found one.

It wasn’t his business, just as nothing else Jim was involved in, was his business.

Except, apparently, Steve Harrington.

“I’m gonna need my own truck if I’m takin' Harrington home.” Wayne said easily, instead of bothering to ask anything else.

If Jim said the kid was different than his daddy, then he was--because when it came to things like that, Jim didn't lie.

No point in it.

“I know. Just needed to talk to you first, without anyone overhearing.” Jim said, before swinging the police truck around and heading back to the Barn.

“I’ll stay in contact with you, and I’ll make sure Harrington pays you for the pleasure of your hospitality. Just--” Here Jim cut himself off, looking like he was struggling an awful lot with the next thing he wanted to say.

Once again, Wayne waited him out.

“Don’t let Steve fool you. He’s good at fooling people, letting them think he’s okay. Too good at it, and between the two of us, I have a real good idea of the reason why.”

A memory came to Wayne unbidden, of Richard Harrington and Chet Hagan, beating some poor kid in the highschool bathroom bloody. The grins on their faces as the poor guy wailed for them to stop.

How they almost hadn’t.

“Alright.” Wayne agreed.

Hopper swung back into the Barn's parking lot, and Wayne moved right to his own beat to shit truck, ready to follow Jim back to the police station.

He wasn’t a praying man, not anymore, but Catholisim wasn’t a thing that let you go easy.

He found himself sending up a quick prayer, fingers flicking in a kind of miniature version of the sign of the cross.

Considering his own kid’s history with Harrington, and the sheer small space of the trailer?

Wayne had a feeling it was needed.

#this has like t wo more parts #pre steddie #wayne as a BAMF #wayne and Hopper both as psuedo parents to Steve #ya'll are gonna have to put up with my weird ass jumping all over the place warm ups sorry lol #Gary's fourth piece is coming no worries #and then this will either take its place or the other one I have will #you CANNOT look me in the eye and tell me all the blue color workers arent aware shits going down #like 100% local crews took one look at starcourt and went what the fuck #nevermind you know the local power plant lol #and with demo critters running around its not like they were tearing through brushes and shit #your local hunters are gonna know somethings up #anyway #beat to shit Steve Harrington #my beloved #hes gonna show up busted to shit with a major grade concussion and Eddie is gonna shit himself #steve harrington #steddie #I spelled collar color and im not changing it #outsider pov #wayne pov #I will write the first person who knows where I pulled John from a prompt of their choice #catholic wayne munson #jim hopper

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