he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Claire Keane
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Three Goblin Art
todays bird
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
will byers stan first human second
Misplaced Lens Cap
AnasAbdin
noise dept.
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
d e v o n
Kiana Khansmith
i don't do bad sauce passes
Mike Driver
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Cosimo Galluzzi
DEAR READER
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Switzerland
seen from TĂĽrkiye
seen from Norway
seen from T1
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Sweden
seen from India
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from Japan
seen from TĂĽrkiye
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Italy
seen from Japan
seen from United States
@just-hopper
“Yeah? And I want a date with Bo Derek. We all want things.”
Semi-selective indie rp for Jim Hopper | 18+ | Muse and mun are 21+ | Stranger Things RP using both canon, fanon and personal head canons.
About Mun/Rules
About Hop
Follows back from @rex-rp!
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has anyone called you "peter" before?
unprompted questions | always accepting
''Not without me telling them that my name was Peter.''
"You little shit..."
KNOWING YOUR PARTNER WELL CAN POTENTIALLY MAKE WRITING TOGETHER A LOT EASIER.
REPOST DO NOT REBLOG !!
NAME: Rex
PRONOUNS : She/her
PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION : Discord usually, Tumblr IMs suck.
NAME OF MUSE(s) : [DC Muses] Grace Williams (@grace-of-gotham), The Joker (@the-last-laugh), Damian Wayne al Ghul (@the-demons-son), Leslie Thompkins (@docthompkins), Bruce Wayne (@broose-wayne), [Stranger things muse] Jim Hopper (@just-hopper)
BEST EXPERIENCE : Just getting to make stories with folks man, it's great. The collaboration and bouncing ideas off each other and getting excited. It's always good.
RP PET PEEVES / DEALBREAKERS : God modding my muses. I'm all for exploring certain dynamics, but at some point it gets irritating to not get a say in how my own muse reacts. Also muns who don't self police their triggers. Upsetting people is the last thing I'd want to do, but communication and self policing content is important.
MUSE PREFERENCES: Well developed muses that feel fleshed out are easiest to write with. Canon muses are easier to mesh ideas with but I'm open to OCs having one myself.
PLOTS OR MEMES : Plotting for me is much more exciting. Memes are good for sparking conversations but I like stories.
LONG OR SHORT REPLIES : Middle of the road is my sweet spot. I'm all for long or short replies. My own tend to average about 4 paragraphs. Matching length isn't necessary so long as there's enough to go off.
BEST TIME TO WRITE : When I'm procrastinating from something usually.
ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S) : There's elements of them in me I suppose, but there's no carbon copies. Grace and Leslie are the closest, Damian has that bite that I wish I had more of IRL, Bruce is still too new, I'm not sure of him. Joker has my dark humor though his goes so much further than mine. Hopper is the dad role model I can only aspire to be.
Stolen from: @qu-tipie
Tagging: @nightmarefuele @johnnlocked @whxlmedwing @arobinwithoutbatman @cxpedcrusxder @knightective @messeduphood and YOU (tag me)
@just-hopper liked for a starter:
"Here, hold on to this," Percy quickly strapped his watch around the man's wrist. Tapping the side button, it spiraled out into a shield, a second strap quickly wrapping around the man's arm closer to the elbow. He smiled. "You just stay here, and you hold on to that. I'll go take care of-"
He glanced behind his back, trying to figure out what sort of monster looked like that... dog thing. Not a hellhound, but something. He turned back and smiled encouragingly at him. "I'll handle it. You just stay here, and hold it up. Just like this, hold it! Great!"
"Hey!"
Where the shit had this kid come from?
"No, no-" Hopper warned, as though speaking to a bad dog that had just eaten the wrong thing. His arm drooped at the unexpected weight of the shield as the boy just kept talking.
The kid was going to have his face chewed off by a baby demigorgon, and it was going to be on Hopper's conscience if he didn't dp something about it.
And then he caught the sight of a bronze sword in the kid's hand. "What the hell?"
Why was it that every kid that crossed his path seemed to be hell-bent on fighting the hell that spawned from the upside-down? Just once, he'd like to see a normal, reasonable reaction. Just once.
Hopper answered the boy's encouraging smile with his own look of incredulous bewilderment, looking around for something he could use as a weapon before they both died. If there was one demodog, there were bound to be more on the way.
Jason heard the cop call for him as he locked himself away in the bathroom. He had no idea how long the cop lingered for, because the outside noise drowned out as soon as he turned on the shower. The old pipes in the cabin creaked and groaned with the water pelting down in the tub, and Jason crawled in, clothes and all.
His mind was screaming at him, demanding action, demanding retaliation against the boys who had hurt him. Against the cop who had followed him. Against everyone, the clown, Bruce -
Bruce -
Jason bit down on his bottom lip, tasting blood, and he covered his ears with his hands. Make it stop.
And Jason, who had barely looked into the fake story Talia had put into place before he had been dropped off here, didn't catch that the cop used the wrong name, on purpose, and he merely glared.
''They're working. You're on our property. Unless you have a warrant -''
Jason already moved to slam the door shut before he had finished talking, making sure he didn't give the cop room to interject.
This time, Hopper was quicker.
He jammed his steel toe-capped boots in the way before the door could shut completely, finding that he'd reached a limit on how many time he could just let this kid brush him off.
"You might just be the angriest thirteen year old I've ever met. Y'know that?" He retorted, losing the friendly edge he had started with.
"But heres the thing. All I want to do is speak with your parents. Then I'll be on my way. Only I have this feeling that they didn't come home last night. And in a town of nosy neighbours who have too much time on their hands, not one of them has laid eyes on anyone new, apart from you."
"Help me figure that out, would you?"
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Jason heard the cop call for him as he locked himself away in the bathroom. He had no idea how long the cop lingered for, because the outside noise drowned out as soon as he turned on the shower. The old pipes in the cabin creaked and groaned with the water pelting down in the tub, and Jason crawled in, clothes and all.
His mind was screaming at him, demanding action, demanding retaliation against the boys who had hurt him. Against the cop who had followed him. Against everyone, the clown, Bruce -
Bruce -
Jason bit down on his bottom lip, tasting blood, and he covered his ears with his hands. Make it stop.
Jason had seen him coming.
And he had cursed up a storm when he had.
He snarled at the screen when the grainy footage of the camera hidden at the front door was recording the cop's arrival and knocking. Talia was going to be pissed.
Jason pushed his chair back, legs scraping across the wooden floor and he stomped towards the front door, bruised and all from the day before. He yanked the door open, leaving the cop mid-knock. ''What do you want?''
"Well, hello to you too, Sunshine."
The boy looked like shit. Pale around the nose, exhaustion evident around his eyes. He could relate to a point. The storm had continued on through the day and most of the night, keeping him awake too.
"I'm looking for your parents. Beth and Jim? I need a quick word. Are they home?"
You’d think after the second time they’d have put better locks on his door, or put him in a room without a window. They’d moved him to the second floor like that would somehow stop him.
Dick scrapes his hands and knees when he leaps from the window to the nearby tree, but he doesn’t let it slow him down. The dim lights of the motel are soon far behind him as he skids down the hill and back into the woods. He’s pretty sure he’s following the right star. If he can just stay on course he’d reach the circus within an hour.
He’d be home again. He’d get to sleep in his bed, in his family’s trailer, and listen to the ever present bustle of activity. It was leagues better than the crappy motel they’d trapped him in until social services arrived to take him to the city.
@whxlmedwing
A long day, but a boring one. Just how he liked it.
Hopper sang along to the radio, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel of his car. The hula girl on the dash swayed off beat as he rolled down the woodland track. He had a cold bottle of beer waiting for him in the refrigerator, a new episode of Quantum Leap on the television, and he was minutes away from home.
Which was, of course, when he spotted the slight figure of a child in the dim twilight. A boy. God damnit. What was a kid doing walking about in the thick of the woods alone? It was only going to get darker, too. And colder.
There was nothing for it. He'd have to drive him home.
Hopper mourned his evening plans with a groan as he stopped the car in the middle of the track. Climbing out, he resisted the urger to bip the siren and lights, though he was sure it would get the kids' attention. A chase through the trees was the last thing he wanted.
"Hey, kid." He called out. "What are you doing out here?"
At first, Dick was confident he could bluff his way through things. He wasn’t a stellar liar, but if he thought of it as all part of the show it was easier. Only then does he realize that the man is a cop. How had they found him so fast?
Lie or run? If he kept to the trees the car couldn’t follow, but the man was taller than him which meant his strides were longer. If he bolts then it’s obvious he’s not supposed to be here. If his bluff fails though he has no idea what the man might do. He assumed the worst.
Only a few days ago he wouldn’t have. That was before he realized the world was cruel.
“Going home,” he says and hopes it sounds convincing. Hopefully he wouldn’t be recognized, but that wasn’t likely. His face had been plastered all over the paper. The whole event had.
"Going home, huh?" Hopper repeats, moving closer to close the distance between them. He keeps his voice nice and calm. "And where's home? It's getting cold out." Jim decides it's probably a good thing he's still in uniform. Kids are taught to trust the police, usually.
The young boy didn't look equipped to deal with the weather, and the closer he got, the more the kid looked familiar. Somehow.
"My name is Jim Hopper. People call me Hop. My mom used to call me James when I was in trouble though." An offer of information, and a distraction. Maybe it would work.
Where was home? Well, nowhere now, unless he could somehow return to Haley’s. Dick keeps praying he’ll wake up back in his bed with his parents sleeping one room over. Just a bad dream.
Dick takes a step back as Hopper moves forward. He hadn’t had much experience with police prior to a few days ago. The first responders had been hellbent on preserving the scene, which meant they’d dragged Dick away kicking and screaming to keep him from contaminating anything else.
“Not far,” he lies. He was cold. With the sun setting the temperature was dropping fast and while the first snow of the season hadn’t arrived yet, it was still cold enough to pose a danger if unprepared. “I’m okay, really. I should get going though—mom doesn’t like me being out after dark.” But his mom wasn’t waiting for him. There would be no hugs, no smiles and praise, or frustrated anger. Tears burn the back of his throat. Dick tries to blink them away, but his efforts don’t do much.
The boy was lying.
The tears welling up in the kid's eyes only added to the wrongness of the situation. Kids were resiliant in Hopper's experience. They coped better than adults in a lot of different situations. But this boy was frayed at the edges.
The question at the top of his list was why?
Stopping when the kid moved back away from him, Hopper holds his hands up placatingly. "I'm a police officer, son. I just want to help. I'm sure your mom would feel much better if I made sure you got home okay. I sure would feel better, too. She's right, not wanting you out in the dark."
"Wanna tell me your name?"
Jason heard the cop call for him as he locked himself away in the bathroom. He had no idea how long the cop lingered for, because the outside noise drowned out as soon as he turned on the shower. The old pipes in the cabin creaked and groaned with the water pelting down in the tub, and Jason crawled in, clothes and all.
His mind was screaming at him, demanding action, demanding retaliation against the boys who had hurt him. Against the cop who had followed him. Against everyone, the clown, Bruce -
Bruce -
Jason bit down on his bottom lip, tasting blood, and he covered his ears with his hands. Make it stop.
Much to his chagrin, Hopper spent the rest of his day with Florence organising paperwork. The locked cabin door and the boy with the haunted look in his eyes nagged at him more by the hour. Enough that he decided to put his time among the files to good use.
Which then warranted a trip to the courthouse to check their records.
Beth and John Morgan. Parents of Peter Morgan. No jobs listed. No school listed though there was, annoyingly, an application for home schooling submitted after his first conversation with the kid. Approved by the Mayor himself, who no doubt barely glanced at it, the idiot.
Something about it just didn't sit right, and if Hopper had learned anything, it was to trust his gut. Which was how he found himself back at the cabin, in the daytime, knocking on the door politely and hoping that he could just put the whole thing to rest.
You’d think after the second time they’d have put better locks on his door, or put him in a room without a window. They’d moved him to the second floor like that would somehow stop him.
Dick scrapes his hands and knees when he leaps from the window to the nearby tree, but he doesn’t let it slow him down. The dim lights of the motel are soon far behind him as he skids down the hill and back into the woods. He’s pretty sure he’s following the right star. If he can just stay on course he’d reach the circus within an hour.
He’d be home again. He’d get to sleep in his bed, in his family’s trailer, and listen to the ever present bustle of activity. It was leagues better than the crappy motel they’d trapped him in until social services arrived to take him to the city.
@whxlmedwing
A long day, but a boring one. Just how he liked it.
Hopper sang along to the radio, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel of his car. The hula girl on the dash swayed off beat as he rolled down the woodland track. He had a cold bottle of beer waiting for him in the refrigerator, a new episode of Quantum Leap on the television, and he was minutes away from home.
Which was, of course, when he spotted the slight figure of a child in the dim twilight. A boy. God damnit. What was a kid doing walking about in the thick of the woods alone? It was only going to get darker, too. And colder.
There was nothing for it. He'd have to drive him home.
Hopper mourned his evening plans with a groan as he stopped the car in the middle of the track. Climbing out, he resisted the urger to bip the siren and lights, though he was sure it would get the kids' attention. A chase through the trees was the last thing he wanted.
"Hey, kid." He called out. "What are you doing out here?"
At first, Dick was confident he could bluff his way through things. He wasn’t a stellar liar, but if he thought of it as all part of the show it was easier. Only then does he realize that the man is a cop. How had they found him so fast?
Lie or run? If he kept to the trees the car couldn’t follow, but the man was taller than him which meant his strides were longer. If he bolts then it’s obvious he’s not supposed to be here. If his bluff fails though he has no idea what the man might do. He assumed the worst.
Only a few days ago he wouldn’t have. That was before he realized the world was cruel.
“Going home,” he says and hopes it sounds convincing. Hopefully he wouldn’t be recognized, but that wasn’t likely. His face had been plastered all over the paper. The whole event had.
"Going home, huh?" Hopper repeats, moving closer to close the distance between them. He keeps his voice nice and calm. "And where's home? It's getting cold out." Jim decides it's probably a good thing he's still in uniform. Kids are taught to trust the police, usually.
The young boy didn't look equipped to deal with the weather, and the closer he got, the more the kid looked familiar. Somehow.
"My name is Jim Hopper. People call me Hop. My mom used to call me James when I was in trouble though." An offer of information, and a distraction. Maybe it would work.
Jason's shoulders hunched in on themselves when he felt the first drops rain down on him. But the cop was still there. He couldn't stop, couldn't risk it, he was being chased, hunted down -
Leave me alone!
Jason weighed his options.
He could just keep walking - he'd outpace the man soon enough, he wagered, but he hadn't been in the area long. If he got lost...
Or he could go back to the cabin. Expose his residence, but at least there, he could lock the doors, defend himself, come up with a plan to get rid of the pesky, nosey -
Home, Jason thought to himself as the rain pelted down harder. He'd go home. Talia would understand. Or at least... he hoped she would. And with a clenched jaw, Jason increased his pace.
Oh, you have no idea.
Jason kept walking, one foot in front of the other, pushing through the twinge in his ankle that had flared up once the weather had changed, until finally - finally - Jason rounded the corner up to the drive of the cabin that Talia had put him in.
Lie low, had been her instruction. And Jason hadn't even been able to handle that.
The cop was still following him, but Jason was home. He was home, and he could open the door and slam it shut and hide in the bathroom until his mind was back on track again.
The slam of the door behind him, combined with the cop calling out to him, had Jason tensing up, and he bolted the door with trembling fingers.
"Kid~" Hopper got the door as the bolt was sliding home. Despite potential outward appearances, his tone wasn't one of anger, more resignation. He already knew this would be a bust.
It didn't stop him from thumping on the door with the underside of his fist. "Hey! Peter."
Still, he was home. Safe, he wasn't sure, but then, the kid had made the walk in the rain just fine, so he supposed he wasn't at risk of hurting himself or anyone else. Hopper's damned wrist still throbbed though. He took a few steps back to look at the property. It had been empty for a while before the kid's family moved in. Nice to see it being used again.
He noted the distinct lack of tyre tracks, the rain not heavy enough to have washed them away yet. Interesting.
With a sigh, he lingered for another moment, pulling out a card with his station number on to say that he'd called by, slipping it into their mailbox. Then he called on the radio for a ride home.
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Jason's shoulders hunched in on themselves when he felt the first drops rain down on him. But the cop was still there. He couldn't stop, couldn't risk it, he was being chased, hunted down -
Leave me alone!
Jason weighed his options.
He could just keep walking - he'd outpace the man soon enough, he wagered, but he hadn't been in the area long. If he got lost...
Or he could go back to the cabin. Expose his residence, but at least there, he could lock the doors, defend himself, come up with a plan to get rid of the pesky, nosey -
Home, Jason thought to himself as the rain pelted down harder. He'd go home. Talia would understand. Or at least... he hoped she would. And with a clenched jaw, Jason increased his pace.
"I could have given you a ride home, y'know." Hopper was already lamenting over how drenched he'd be on the walk back. Maybe he could get a cruiser to pick him up. "Keep us both out of the rain."
They were moving further into the woods now. Half a dozen clicks or so away from his own cabin, thankfully. The trees providing little shelter as the thunder clapped overhead and rumbled loudly.
Hopper disliked thunder.
Just make sure the kid gets home in one piece, and have a chat with his mother. He told himself. Following dutifully behind, getting slightly out of breath with the increased pace. Little shit.
"Are you always this stubborn?"
Jason staggered back a few paces, watching, as the cop flinched and cried out before he tried to defend himself.
Get out.
He jerked, turning his back to Hopper, and Jason set out to make himself scarce, chiding himself. He should have stayed in the cabin, should have kept to himself, like she warned him to. They'd have to relocate, again. All because he had just wanted --
''Hey kid!''
Jason shook his head, increasing his pace.
Hopper wanted to go back and get his cruiser. He didn't feel like the walk back in whatever storm that was brewing overhead would do him any good. But he was also fairly sure that if he looked away from the kid for any length of time, he'd take off. And he still wasn't sure where he lived.
Or if Peter was even his real name.
Man, he was getting too old for this. His wrist still stung from where it had been twisted. And this was his lunchbreak, too. The thought warranted action, and he grasped the radio on the lapel of his jacket.
"Hey Glenn?"
"Yes Chief?"
"Tell Florence I can't help her with the paperwork this afternoon. Somethings come up."
"She is going to revoke your doughnut privileges. Need backup?"
"Nah, I got it. You'll have to come up with your own excuse to get out of yours. Will check in in about an hour. Keep an eye on the weather, though."
"10-4."
With that settled, he kept a tail on the boy, out of the range of his reflexes, but close enough that it was obvious what he was doing. Outward appearances aside, he couldn't shake the feeling there was more to the issue.
And there was the rain.
You’d think after the second time they’d have put better locks on his door, or put him in a room without a window. They’d moved him to the second floor like that would somehow stop him.
Dick scrapes his hands and knees when he leaps from the window to the nearby tree, but he doesn’t let it slow him down. The dim lights of the motel are soon far behind him as he skids down the hill and back into the woods. He’s pretty sure he’s following the right star. If he can just stay on course he’d reach the circus within an hour.
He’d be home again. He’d get to sleep in his bed, in his family’s trailer, and listen to the ever present bustle of activity. It was leagues better than the crappy motel they’d trapped him in until social services arrived to take him to the city.
@whxlmedwing
A long day, but a boring one. Just how he liked it.
Hopper sang along to the radio, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel of his car. The hula girl on the dash swayed off beat as he rolled down the woodland track. He had a cold bottle of beer waiting for him in the refrigerator, a new episode of Quantum Leap on the television, and he was minutes away from home.
Which was, of course, when he spotted the slight figure of a child in the dim twilight. A boy. God damnit. What was a kid doing walking about in the thick of the woods alone? It was only going to get darker, too. And colder.
There was nothing for it. He'd have to drive him home.
Hopper mourned his evening plans with a groan as he stopped the car in the middle of the track. Climbing out, he resisted the urger to bip the siren and lights, though he was sure it would get the kids' attention. A chase through the trees was the last thing he wanted.
"Hey, kid." He called out. "What are you doing out here?"
Muse list!
Hello! If you have been followed by this blog it will be for at least one of the following muses!
[Please note that some of these blogs have been previously moved from other accounts and are still under construction!]
@the-last-laugh - Joker [DC]
@grace-of-gotham - Grace Williams [DC] (OC)
@docthompkins - Leslie Thompkins [DC]
@just-hopper - Jim Hopper [Stranger Things]
@the-demons-son -Damian Wayne [DC]
@broose-wayne - Bruce Wayne [DC]
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Eddie grumbles as he’s shoved into the back of the police cruiser but he doesn’t protest for once. Doesn’t try to run nor does he try to pick the lock. He looks exhausted, caked in blood, dirt, and wounds. His eyes are dull but wide. Only movement he makes in the back set is shimmying his arms from the small of his back under himself and to his front. Resting them in his lap. A mumble about it being uncomfortable. Then just silence for most of the drive.
“Can I have a cigarette before they lock me away for ever?” A tired rasp from the 20 year old. He knew what was being said about himself. Hiding for weeks in the upside down because he was scared. But he was tired of running.
@fliphimthebird
"Quit being overdramatic." Jim had winded himself trying to catch the Munson boy and aggravated his injured ankle, all which set his tone off as irritated and angry, even though that wasn't exactly the case.
He wasn't even heading to the police station, though for now, he'd let the boy think that.
"You know how long it's taken me to get a hold of you? I spotted you a couple of weeks back. What the hell are you thinking going back there?!"
