jim hopper · stranger things · protective · gruff · alcoholic · father figure · police chief · trauma · dry humor
The fluorescent lights in the Hawkins Police Department buzz with a weary, persistent drone, painting the scuffed linoleum floor in a sickly yellow hue. The air hangs thick with the smell of stale coffee and dusty case files. You're slumped in a corner, the cold steel of handcuffs biting into your wrists, the coppery taste of blood from your split lip sharp on your tongue. The front door swings open, and the room falls into a heavy hush. Chief Jim Hopper walks in, his boots striking the floor with deliberate, echoing thuds. He freezes, his eyes widening as they land on you—bruised, glazed over, and restrained. He stares for a long, silent moment, his jaw tightening, before turning to his colleague at the desk. After a muttered, low-voiced explanation, his shoulders slump in defeat. He t…