#that privilege only goes to hopper

[decaffeinated-heads]

I forgot what kind of helicopter he is

[thepixelpenguin]

EXOGARDEN LOG #3

Hi! Now is a bad time to be picking up extra hobbies, but my brain doesn't seem to care. Still, I found some time for this one, too. My Minecraft mock-ups are fully realised now, but I'm not sure about uploading them. They probably won't make a lot of sense without knowing what each block represents, and they do kind of spoil the whole game. Nice scenery though. Heck, maybe I'll just post one of them...

But for now, some more plants!

🌼Webbed Flytrap🌼

Fallaranea muscipula

Home planet: Zion

A maroon and yellow flower with a spider-like construct framing its petals, with a gooey nectar web stretched between. If it detects a small creature, the legs close in on its prey, trapping it for gradual digestion. The legs of the flower use a hydraulic system to keep the pressure high enough to trap the creature.

Although this would've fit quite neatly into the jungles of Elysium, that place was getting populated enough as it was, and a carnivorous spiderweb made for a much more Zion-esque idea than the Fractal Fern. I had to have at least one carnivorous plant, and having one based on a carnivorous animal AND a common piece of set dressing seemed only natural. It makes for quite a believable image!

🌼Hopper Grower🌼

Petrophilium bisemutium

Home planet: Ketumati

A simple leafy plant with a pink inflorescence, smooth leaves, and a metallic sheen. The flowerhead is peculiar: the sepal is flexible and colourful, but there are no actual petals. At the base of its stem is a large bismuth crystal which grows around it. The plant doesn't grow in existing crystals, but rather excretes excess bismuth absorbed from the rocks it grows on.

Yes, bismuth crystals really do look like that: they're my favourite for a reason! I knew I had to include it in a world themed around chemistry and general ethereal vibes. Oh, it's a fun one. It dances into the realm of fantasy a little more than the others, but that's part of the art. The faux flowerhead here makes it seem a little more inorganic than most, but it's not at all alien. It turns out flower morphology can be VERY deceptive. Some petals aren't really petals, some flowers aren't even really flowers, it's a mess! Tulips are an odd example: half the petals are actual petals, but the outer petals are just barely distinguishable sepals. Also daisies are a hundred flowers in one? I need a break from flowers...

🌳Furball Tree🌳

Laevidendron eriophyllum

Home planet: Eden

A usually short and sparse tree with little whorls of leaves that have a very soft texture. These leaves grow in separated round clusters on the surprisingly smooth branches. The tree also sprouts fluffy lilac blossoms but only on the side facing downwind

What, you didn't think flowers were the only thing I had to offer, did you?! I'm trying to group my drawings by the category of plant, so expect to see some more trees and grasses as time goes on. This is the first tree you see in the game, hence it earning the privilege of "Tree" in its name. I've never repeated a word in the common names, just to show the sheer diversity of plants there are, and to make it easier to specify them! It does require rather awkward constructions like "Hopper Grower", but hey, I like the half-rhyme and double-entendre.

Anyway, the Furball Tree. I wanted something friendly and whimsical, but a little more realistic than Dr Seuss! I hope you can see what I'm going for: it's like natural topiary. It looks quite sparse in my drawings, but it is supposed to be able to fit in a garden, after all. They probably get no taller than 5 metres. The blossom is just for extra prettiness, a perfect match with the Foreign Flyer, and it makes for quite a handy impromptu compass, incidentally.

===

Oh, I promised you a Minecraft world, didn't I? Well, I can't think of an easier way to do it, so... here.

https://www.planetminecraft.com/project/eden-evergreen-green-exogarden/

You might recognise the Furball Tree and Foreign Flyer, but the rest of the plants I've yet to reveal, of course. Still, it's quite a nice example of things to come. I hope with every passing post, you can see there's more depth to this than I can possibly hope to convey with a few drawings in my spare time... oh well.

[adhd-winterfalcon]

Please tell me your punk!Steve thoughts.

OH BOY I HAVE A LOT - besides what i’ll probably infodump abt here i have lowkey fleshed out an entire backstory for punk steve under the #punk steve au

(to summarize, steve decides to become a punk and rebel against his parents instead of doing what they want and being a jock)

he introduces punk culture to el and max and they adore it (el loves the pastel punk aesthetic)

he doesn’t use any of his parents money (but continues to live in their house bc he doesn’t really have anywhere else to go and doesn’t want to burden any of the multiple families that would take him in), is a lifeguard in the summer and takes odd jobs around fall and winter.

he goes to Indianapolis as often as possible and learns most of what he knows from Elder Punks he meets there. there’s a couple small punk/alt stores he always stops by and a few bars/clubs. everyone he meets loves him (and baby punks in general but they find it really cool that he comes from privilege yet decides to rebel against ideals that were made so he could succeed at the failure of others).

he’s also introduced to the queer community a lot earlier on, and realizes he’s mlm (i hc him as gay but i can also see him as bi) and there’s a bunch of Elder Gays who adopt him.

he’s pretty much the only punk in Hawkins, so he kinda gets a reputation. in his freshman year he mostly keeps to himself, doesn’t really dress the way he wants and just wants to make it through the year. sophomore year though, he befriends jonathan nancy and barb and starts dressing and acting the way he wants to. him and jonathan listen to music together and he helps out with will when joyce and jonathan need to work- which eventually leads to him meeting mike dustin and lucas and taking care of them too.

steve realizes he wants to be strong enough to protect the people he cares about, so him and jonathan train and work out together a bit. steve and nancy don’t date, but they’re best friends along with barb. i just need to see barb and steve as besties it would make me so happy. also nancy and barb are in love bc obviously.

halfway through sophomore year steve gets a job at the local mechanics (mechanic eddie this, mechanic eddie that, no! give me mechanic steve who has a special interest in cars! just look at his beemer! and like the sole decoration he has in his room is a photo of a car!)

SO. junior year. this is when he starts going to indianapolis a lot more frequently. he buys records and camera stuff for jonathan, and drawing supplies for will (he basically lives with the byers atp). he is a lot more sure of himself, wears combat boots and battle jackets, and is damn good at fighting (he worked really hard at it the summer before). if anyone harms the kids he will not hesitate to hit someone, and this becomes town-wide knowledge very quick.

when will disappears in november, steve is the first person joyce calls before karen. he joins the search parties, he goes to lonnie instead of jonathan (steve would rather die than make jonathan face his abuser again). basically he’s involved with the upside down shit from the start.

also, steve accidentally finds out about el when dustin and lucas do. he offers to have her stay at his house, mike is reluctant but agrees, and el immediately becomes steve’s new baby sister. steve still saves the day at the end of s1 with the demogorgon, but the fight with jonathan and all of that doesn’t happen.

i accidentally plotted the whole show with this au…

steve finds el s2 and actually fucking tells the Party instead of hiding it like hopper did. el just permanently lives at steve’s now.

oh yeah and barb doesn’t die so that’s a thing that changes s2 a lot. i lost track of where this was going so i’m gonna just drop hcs i have about punk steve

he paints his nails black, he has a few piercings, he doesn’t really like the feeling of makeup on his face but he puts on eyeliner occasionally, he lets his hair grow out more and has perfected the ‘messy bedhead that somehow looks good’ look, he has big combat books and uses lace code, he’s gay but says he would go straight for joan jett (me too tbh), he has a reputation of “don’t fuck with me or my kids” in Hawkins, he also lowkey converts robin into a punk but she’s more indie-alt like jonathan, he doesn’t play any instruments but has a great voice and perfect pitch, will and el help him make one of his favorite battle vests, will is very crafty and artistic so he helps steve with a lot of his stuff, he has a few tattoos, he can do cool lighter tricks lol, etc.

[rageagainsttheapathy]

MERLIN STRANGER THINGS STEDDIE AU

Prince Steve who starts off arrogant and prattish because of his strict father and asshole noble friends, but cares deeply for his people and wants more than anything to be a good ruler, who makes constant fun of Eddie as his new manservant but it gets fonder and fonder as time goes on and in the end can’t imagine living without him.

Newly arrived warlock Eddie who was born with magic and gets sent to live with his Uncle Wayne in Camelot in the hopes that he can learn to control his gifts and find his place away from the small village he grew up in, only to end up in the service of the Worst Man Ever ™️ who is loud and demanding and privileged and… strong, and kind of caring, he guesses, and also protected him that one time and tries to cheer him up in this really emotionally stunted but genuine kind of way and - no he does not like him!

Lady Nancy, the King’s ward who is furious at the injustice she sees throughout the kingdom, who champions druids and magic users and isn’t afraid to confront Steve about his worst tendencies. (No Evil! Nancy in this au - she has an arc that involves her stepping close to vengeance, because she’s tired of being nice and wants so badly to go apeshit, but in the end is saved from that path by the power of friendship and this Big Sword she found) she ends up advisor to the throne once King Jackass finally dies, and forces Steve to promote Robin to the same position, even though Steve planned to do exactly that anyway, that’s his Best Friend, Nancy, what do you take him for?

Maidservant Robin who becomes fast friends with Eddie when he first arrives, who is fiercely loyal to Lady Nancy and constantly annoyed with Steve - right up until they start spending time together and save each other’s lives and there’s a brief moment when Steve thinks that he’s in love with her because she’s pretty and clever and isn’t afraid to yell at him but they very quickly realise that they’re better as friends, not least because Robin is totally in love with Nancy.

Jonathan as a knight, who appears and saves the day and also kicks Steve’s ass on the training field, who protects Eddie when he finds out his secret and then goes off to do his ‘lone wolf’ thing à là Lancelot

Argyle as a Druid who hangs around outside Camelot and gives cryptic but helpful advice and also takes in wounded travellers and nurses them back to health (cough, Jonathan, cough) who later helps Eddie to accept the hard parts of being destined for something.

All the kids are there too, of course, but I haven’t decided what I want them to be and Hopper should be a Leon-Esque figure who starts of a distant and stoic knight of the Old Guard but slowly becomes closer to the main group, acting as a father figure and also occasionally going Beserker mode in battle because why not

Joyce gets to be a whole new character! Because there is a tragic lack of women in Merlin canon who show up for more than one episode. Something something convoluted side plot in which she shows up in Camelot looking for her missing eldest son who ran away to be a knight, cue Steve sending Hopper, his most mature and loyal knight to accompany her on her quest, during which they encounter multiple obstacles, engage in Shenanigans, and fall in love, much to the horror of Jonathan who has to watch them kissing after they slay the Generic Magical Beast of the week

[mozzarella-stickz]

Stranger Things Original Character: Sylvia Young Headcanons

Warnings: NSFW stuff, mentions of toxic friends and bullying

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

- first off, she and Eddie have known each other for years (Sylvia was 8, Eddie was 10)

- they met when Sylvia and her mother first moved to Forest Hills and Wayne and Eddie came over to welcome them

- was kind of scared of Eddie at first but after he stood up to some bullies for her, they became best friends

- Eddie was a little pissed off at her when she got to high school and decided to join the cheer team, he felt betrayed

- Sylvia is really only friends with a few, like Chrissy and then some other decently nice girls named Veronica and Jane

- ends up quitting the cheer team before senior year because of the bullying

- after quitting cheer she joins Hellfire full time, Eddie makes her a special pink Hellfire shirt

- Sylvia super girly with a quirky twist

- her fashion icons are Molly Ringwald and Mia Sara

- her favorite book is The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath

- she was named after the author, her mother is a very eccentric feminist that Sylvia adores

- best subject is English (duh)

- has a walkman that Eddie got for her for her 18th birthday

- Sylvia’s birthday is July 2, 1967

- Sylvia’s favorite album is Bella Donna by Stevie Nicks

- Other than Stevie Nicks, she likes Blondie, Fleetwood Mac (duh), Kate Bush, The Beach Boys, Journey, and The Beatles

- Eddie got her into some more hardcore bands like Black Sabbath, Dio, and Metallica

- her favorite movies are The Outsiders, Footloose, and Sixteen Candles (…guys I almost put Girls Just Wanna Have Fun and then stupid me remembered Shannen Doherty is literally in that movie…)

- sits with Hellfire everyday, lost her seat privileges one time because she dissed Lord of the Rings

- Sylvia and Gareth are lowkey besties, they have a sibling friendship type of thing

- Because of her friendship with Dustin and Mike through Eddie she becomes decent friends with Robin, Nancy, and Steve

- Ok to canon timeline

- Chrissy goes to get the drugs because she asks Sylvia, they are still friends despite Sylvia not being on the team anymore

- Sylvia somewhat knows what’s going on with Chrissy’s mom and then the ED, but is too scared to say anything (much like Lucas with Patrick)

- of course we all know what happens to Chrissy :(

- Eddie and Sylvia both get blamed for the murders, Jason makes up some batshit idea they sacrificed Chrissy together

- they have to hide together :( poor baby is still in her cheer uniform too

- Sylvia feels MEGA guilt for Chrissy, especially for running away and not saying anything to help her

- while in hiding they end up confessing their feelings

- Y’all saw that coming don’t even lie

- they have sex for the first time in the boathouse, it’s sweet even if it sounds rlly gross

- when they get stuck in the Upside Down it’s really scary

- and when they have to go fight Vecna? Horrifying.

- in this universe Eddie lives because I do what I want!!! And Hopper comes back and clears both of their names :)) and Jason is dead!!!

- Sylvia goes to Chrissy’s mother after the ordeal, screams at her for being a horrible mother

- I’m sad now back to happiness

- Scared to perm her hair but a few times a week she wears curls her hair all big with an iron and wears curlers to bed so she gets the big curls

- Eddie has multiple polaroids of her with them, she thinks she looks stupid but he thinks they’re adorable

- Wayne adores Sylvia, and Sylvia’s mother Laura adores Eddie

- they celebrate holidays together!!

- for their anniversary Eddie get’s her a ring that match’s his :)))

- That’s all I just love them sm

[regrettablewritings]

If you have any openings left for the ship meme might I inquire about one Peter B Parker and the headcanons: still cries watching Titanic, firmly believes in couples costumes, and lastly (because I’m such a fucking sucker for this), gives nose/forehead kisses?

Be honest: You just want to see this sad sack of strangely sexy in gooey/awkward situations.

And honestly? That’s fair.

Gives nose/forehead kisses: Both of you are capable of giving nose and forehead kisses. However, the willingness between you two varies. You, for example, tend to favor kisses applied to the nose. Specifically Peter’s nose. You want to smooch Peter’s big, broken nose. It’s just so absurdly adorable -- you were never even a nose type of person until you developed a thing for him! And on the one hand, he might gently chide at you for being a weirdo, putting on a begrudging expression as you happily peck the schnoz. But on the other, deep inside like nearly everything else, he’s quite flattered and almost . . . in wonder about it. He doesn’t see himself as prime real estate of any kind, so the fact that you find any part of him appealing -- especially his nose, which he did not set right at all -- is pretty flabbergasting to him to say the least. But unfortunately, that cold front is exactly what makes it more difficult for him to be ready and willing to give the same back to you. Given the slight oddity of your relationship dynamic (cough-the age gap-cough), Peter can’t help but occasionally overthink things. Sure, he’s a tired old man who’s fucks-to-give supply is in a constant decline, but he doesn’t want to be an old man if you catch the drift. Compared to the decidedly more mature and intimate kiss on the lips, a kiss on the forehead or nose may come across as too juvenile. Or, even worse, paternal. Or so his anxieties tell him. It may take a few times at first, but you can talk him down from this mindset by reminding him what kisses on the head or nose tip tend to actually mean: Protection, adoration, and an effort to reassure and keep the other calm — all things Peter is more than capable of and willing to provide, whether he believes that of himself or not. So the further along the relationship goes, the more those types of smooches tend to pop up in your day-to-day lives. Though he still prefers liplocks. (Pro tip: The best chances of acquiring a kiss on the forehead is when he’s tired, or even halfway asleep. When he’s got nothing else to do and can just lay down for some downtime, Peter doesn’t really like to move a lot. So if he’s conked out in the bed, feel free to climb in next to him and cuddle up, almost kitten-like. He’ll have the barest minimum of consciousness going on, but he won’t second-guess applying a kiss to your forehead, as if to say goodnight. And then immediately proceed to fall asleep.)

Still cries watching Titanic: Peter has a . . . complex relationship with Titanic. He never really cared for it, having grown up more interested in sci-fi movies than ones centered on romance. And then the dog days of divorcee life hit him. He still didn’t really care for it, mind you, but at that point in his life, nearly anything with the slightest indication of long-lasting love and dedication had the power to send him spiraling. He thought so long as he turned it on as background noise one boring Saturday night, he’d be fine and could just go to sleep. . . . Coincidentally, that same night, you heard your mysterious (and depressed) neighbor sobbing up a lung. Fast-forward to present day, where Peter considers the day to have ended pretty pleasantly: Patrol ended early, he managed to come home at a decent hour, and the both of you watched documentaries until you conked out next to him, leaving him surprisingly awake. With nothing else to really do, he mindlessly flipped through the channels before landing on one that just happened to be playing Titanic. He wasn’t really sure what possessed him: He just felt compelled to attempt to watch it. Maybe it was him subconsciously trying to test himself? To see how far he’s come? He never understood it himself. But as the film dragged on, following Rose’s attempts of “slumming it” and the star-crossed couples’ sexcapades, Peter found himself . . . bored. Which was to be expected, he still hadn’t learned to care for the movie, but more so this time because you weren’t awake to indulge him by poking fun at how ridiculous it all was or by blabbing on about how lightly the socioeconomic gap was approached and conquered for the sake of providing a member of the privileged a playground and — And Peter fell asleep: Bored, comfortable, and happy. He doesn’t cry at Titanic anymore; there’s just no longer a need to.

Firmly believes in couples’ costumes:  You do, despite everything saying it made no sense. For one, Peter never really got into the whole costumed couples thing -- he already spent so much of his time in-costume, to the point that whatever “magic” there was that normal people experienced from dressing up had long-since died for him. In addition to that, it wasn’t as though you two had many excuses to do it: Your apartment building didn’t have any families in it, and kids tended not to come by to trick-or-treat anyway; and neither of you had any friends who were especially into throwing Halloween parties as much as they were the type to go to parties thrown by people neither of you even knew. But Peter wasn’t the type to fall for anyone who wasn’t the slightest bit stubborn, to his own dismay. With some convincing (and the promise of making it up to him later), you can have him dressed accordingly yet! Sure, he won’t exactly feel snazzy dressed as Fred Flintstone or “get” whomever you insist he dress up as (“The heck is ‘Hopper’, and why do people keep making jokes about not messing with me? What kind of crawl is this?”). But as long as he can grab some food on whatever themed pub crawl you’ve persuaded him to join you on, he’ll go along with it. (Besides, sometimes you making it up to him comes in the form of sexy couples’ costumes for his eyes only, and that’s definitely something he can go along with. Just...please don’t do Sexy Spidey or Sexy Doc Ock or whatever. It makes him feel conflicted.)

Thanks for being a good sport and being so patient, Noah!

[hawkinshellfire]

Right Where You Left Me

Chapter 4 - Betty 

But if I just showed up at your party

Would you have me?

Would you want me?

Would you tell me to go fuck myself

Or lead me to the garden?

Staggering down the long country road that leads back to his neighborhood, Hopper balls his fist and swings at the air. The world before him was blurry and he probably should have waited to sober up a bit before walking home, but he couldn’t bear to stand there and watch Joyce flirt with Lonnie and pretend she didn’t care that their friendship was falling apart. 

Watching her place her hands on someone, the gnawing feeling in his gut that he first felt at prom reappeared. It adds to his light-headedness and suddenly the world is rotating on a tilted axis and he doesn’t know up from down. He remembers the way he felt at prom, watching them together; he was ready to knock Lonnie out cold, and for what? Because Joyce was paying attention to him? Because she seemed to enjoy the way he held her close?

Since that night, he wondered what Lonnie whispered in her ear while they danced. He knows it’s ridiculous to concern himself, but he can’t help it. He was experiencing the feeling from prom all over again tonight, the pull towards Joyce and the desire to tell Lonnie to back off. But it wasn’t his place to defend Joyce and even under usual circumstances when he knew she considered him as one of her best friends, who was he to stand in the way of her happiness? Who was he to feel this way when he was the one who abandoned them for a relationship?

As he continues to walk on, he’s struck with a question that leaves him baffled. Who was he to Joyce - and who was Joyce to him?

Surely, she considered him a friend, but did she see him as something more? 

To him, she was everything. She was his best friend, his favourite smile and the smartest, most driven woman he knew. She was sunshine on a cloudy day even though she hid that side of her away from the rest of the world; he knew he was privileged to see beneath the façade she showed everyone else. He asks himself the question over and over as he walks, adding to his answer until he finds himself standing at the edge of his driveway. 

He asks himself one final time before heading inside, willing his subconscious drunk mind to give him the answers he’s so desperately seeking. 

Who was Joyce Horowitz to him?

Someone he couldn’t live without. 

As he fumbles for his house key, he realizes that while he left the party alone, there was a chance Joyce would leave with Lonnie. The thought darkens his chipper mood and he feels sick. He makes it to the washroom and turns on the shower. Stepping out of his party clothes, he lets the cold water wash away the smell of cheap beer and cigarettes. He pounds his fist against the wall and hangs his head beneath the water, allowing the cold droplets to sober him up. He tries to force all thoughts of Joyce from his mind, but it’s useless. She’s there, laughing at something one of her friends said, her hand grazing Lonnie’s shoulder. She’s alone at the library, sitting in the sunlight that streams through the window next to her favourite table, reading. She fills every crevice of his mind and it isn’t until he steps out of the shower to dry himself off that he realizes he hadn’t thought about Chrissy once tonight. Instead, he’d been focused on Joyce and the anger that spiked throughout his body when he saw her with him. 

Staring into the mirror, Hopper swallows hard. He wasn’t jealous, was he?

-------

Hopper had always considered himself to be a good person, but after the events of the past few weeks, he was beginning to wonder if that wasn’t true. The worst thing he’d ever done was what he did to Joyce. He replays their conversation over in his mind as he tries to fall asleep, wondering where he went wrong and if there was anything he could do to make things right. 

“Look Joyce....” He drags his hand through his hair and tries to begin his apology but his lungs are filling with water and he’s drowning. When he finally manages to force air into his lungs, and find his voice and he stutters. “I’ve realized that… you know … lately I’ve been a really shitty friend and I-”

His heart sinks when she raises her palm to stop him from continuing. Her faint laugh shatters him and leaves him feeling broken. “Save it, Hop,” she rolls her eyes. “You’ve made it pretty obvious that there are other things that are more important to you than our friendship. Spare me the pity speech and let’s both just move on with life.”

Pity was the last thing he felt towards her. Rage because of her stubbornness, anger with himself for letting things get this far and desire. The last one catches him off guard, but it’s rooted in the way she stands up for herself- he finds it attractive. 

“Joyce,” he calls after her. His voice carries and she stops immediately and turns to face him. 

“What?!” she exclaims. 

He doesn’t utter another word, instead he takes two long strides and closes the distance between them. His hands land on her hips and his lips come crashing down on hers as he hoists her onto the hood of his car. Initially shocked, she freezes against him but the moment her back makes contact with the metal of the car, she’s kissing him back. He’s faintly aware of the hollering behind them, but none if it matters. The way her heels drive his calves forward, his feet planted firmly on the ground between her legs, causes a low groan to roll off his tongue and he kisses her harder. 

She’s the first to break the kiss, pulling back so that she can place a trail of kisses along his jawline. He closes his eyes and savours each touch, the delicate flutter of her lips against his skin setting it ablaze. When she reaches his ear, she tugs on it with a smirk and leans forward to whisper in his ear. 

“Hop,” she breathes. “Take me home.”

Hopper jumps up and realizes he’s in bed and it was all just a dream. One hell of a dream, he thinks to himself. He leans back against his pillow, processing, when his eyes widen and it hits him.

Shit. He was jealous. 

.

.

“Whatcha’ doin?” Chrissy asks. She’s sprawled out her stomach on top of her pink comforter, her English textbook open in front of her. 

“Homework. Like you’re supposed to be doing,” Hopper reminds her with a smile. 

After a slow start to the morning and some contemplation over an extra coffee to help with his raging hangover, he headed over to Chrissy’s to spend the afternoon studying. Only, he realized after arriving that when she invited him over to study, she didn’t actually have any intention of getting school work done. 

Chrissy’s house was located in one of the nicer neighborhoods in Hawkins. A long street where all the trees were properly trimmed and there wasn’t a lawn with a blade of grass out of place. Her large white house, located on the street corner, stood proudly amongst the smaller ones along the road and always made Hopper feel small. Both of her parents were out for the day, meaning they had the house to themselves for the entire afternoon.

After insisting they work in her room; a room that was covered in more pink and lace than Hopper had ever seen, Chrissy quickly grows bored of her textbook and begins whining. 

“You invited me over to study, remember?” he smirks. 

It was no secret that Chrissy didn’t care for her grades, but unlike her, Hopper was hoping for a term of excellent grades so he could apply for football scholarships and get the hell out of this small town. While Chrissy was the one who filled his mind with ideas about leaving Hawkins, her parents were funding her escape plan and Hopper was going to have to work for his freedom. 

“I remember,” she replies, “I just think there are more fun things we could be doing.” She reaches over to where he’s perched with his back against the headboard of her bed and goes for the buckle on his belt. 

“Some of us need to ace their science test on Monday if they want to get out of this hell hole,” he reminds her. 

“Aren’t you glad I convinced you that there’s so much more to life than what this place has to offer?” 

Was he? Before dating her, he never considered moving away from Hawkins. His friends and family were here, there were plenty of good paying jobs, what more could there be? Now that they were together, people (particularly adults) always fawned over how great it was going to be when he and Chrissy made it out of Hawkins and started a life for themselves because they were, as it was so often put, perfect together. 

He tries to keep focused on the textbook page he’s reading, but his mind is racing. Nothing about this afternoon sat right with him. Chrissy hadn’t asked how the party was, even though he asked how her evening with her friends was, and he wondered if somehow she knew what he’d dreamt last night. 

“Earth to James,” she waves a hand in front of his face.

“What?”

“I said, aren't you glad I convinced you to get of this god awful town?”

“Oh, yeah.”

She slides closer to him and smirks up at him while reaching for and closing his textbook. He knows that every guy on his football team would be insanely jealous of the position he currently found himself in. Home alone with Chrissy Carpenter. Hell, he was sitting in bed with her while she tried to get his attention. He would be the envy of his classmates the moment he told this story, but something in him wishes he’d chosen to study at the library because he actually wants to do well on his test. 

“Why don’t you finish reading that later?” she smirks. She climbs into his lap and straddles him, her hands falling to his shoulders. 

“Then what would I do now?” he flirts. This was the part he was good at. The flirting, the teasing, what came after that. It was simple, mindless and a distraction from the chaotic storm going on in his mind. 

“I have some ideas,” she purrs, capturing his lips in a kiss. 

They tumble back onto the frilly pink covers and he doesn’t study another thing all afternoon. Before declaring he should head home for dinner, they lay side by side beneath the covers and his headache returns. He feels nothing. He’s laying next to her, their hands intertwined but he felt more in his dream about Joyce than he did just now with Chrissy. 

It was a good distraction, made him feel good for a few hours, but he admits inwardly that that’s all it was and that maybe he and Chrissy weren’t as perfect as everyone made them out to be. They’d slept together before today, and each time Hopper thought maybe he would feel something more. While it wasn’t bad, it wasn’t the way he knew it was supposed to be. 

He kisses Chrissy goodbye and packs up his book bag and promises to call her after dinner. On the way home, he blasts the music to distract him from any unnerving thoughts. He liked Chrissy. He really really did. But…. 

.

.

On Monday morning, Hopper and Benny decide to hit the gym and sneak in a workout before class. With the most important game of the season coming up, both were determined to impress potential scouts before their senior year. 

“Are you going tonight?” Benny asks between reps. 

“Going where?”

“Joyce’s party,” Benny states, confused. 

“Joyce is having a party?” Hopper stares blankly at Benny and sets his weights on the ground. “On a Monday?”

“You didn’t know? Shit, I thought I saw you two talking at the lake. You’re still not talking?”

“We’re talking,” Hopper mumbles. 

“You didn’t know about the party,” Benny points out. 

Tossing his arms up in frustration, Hopper groans and exhales a deep breath. “Joyce’s parents would never let her have a party, you must have misheard.”

‘I’m telling you man, she’s having a party. Her friend Josie told me at the diner yesterday. Anyways, I’m going to hit the showers. Let me know if you want to go tonight. I’d be down to check it out.” He pats Hopper on the shoulder and leaves him alone in the gym. 

In all the time he’d known Joyce, her parents never once went away. Not together. There were several occasions when her mother would go away for the weekend on business and Joyce’s father would fail to return home for a few days while she was gone, but they’d never announced they were going out of town together. 

Even if her parents had gone out of town in the past, Joyce hated most of the kids in their class she would never waste her energy on throwing a party. Whenever he convinced her to attend one with him, she always complained that she didn’t like anyone there and extended her empathy to the host who would, in her words, “be stuck cleaning up someone else’s mess.” 

And now she was going to be the one stuck cleaning up someone else’s mess. It didn’t make sense. Maybe that Josie girl wasn’t as good of an influence as he once thought. He does another set of push ups, biceps quivering with each dip but he pushes through and hits his goal of twenty-five. Once again, he finds his shower thoughts lingering on Joyce and he decides that he needs to rid himself of this uneasy feeling and sort out his emotions. He needed to know once and for all if what he was feeling was rooted in jealousy, and the best way to do that was to confront Joyce. Plus, going to her party would give him another chance to try and apologize. If he was lucky, maybe this time he could say the right thing and save their friendship from demise. 

She wasn’t exactly happy with him the last time they spoke, and he wonders what she’ll think about him showing up at her party. He knows her well enough to know that she’ll think he’s there to keep an eye on things; he’d always been protective of her, especially when it came to her home life. Aside from that, would she still be angry with him or would she be willing to hear out his apology and make amends? 

He decides the worst thing that could happen is that she refuses to speak to him, though he doubts that will be the case. Joyce was never one to walk away from confrontation, if anything, she thrived in situations that involved it. She hadn’t exactly invited him, but Benny made it seem like it was an open-invitation for the junior class and he was a member of that class. 

Joining Benny in their first period class, he claims his seat and turns to his teammate, “Alright, I’m in. Let’s go to the party.”

He completely forgets he has plans with Chrissy but when he mentions the party at lunch she folds her arms over her chest and tells him she doesn’t want to go to a party with a bunch of “younger kids.” Hopper conveniently leaves out the fact that it’s Joyce’s party and doesn’t push after she tells him she doesn’t care if he goes without her. She excuses herself early and Hopper tells Benny he’ll pick him up at 8 o’clock for the party. He catches a glimpse of Joyce from across the cafeteria and offers her a weak smile. She pretends she doesn’t see him and turns her back to him. 

.

.

Pulling into Joyce’s driveway, Hopper is hit with an unexpected wave of nostalgia. He’s immediately content with his decision to come; he missed her. The boys hop out of the truck and grab the pack of beer provided by Hopper’s father. They round the side of the house and Benny follows Hopper down the path leading to a gate into the yard. Joyce’s house, though small, had a massive backyard, complete with a massive rose garden maintained by her mother in the summer months and an old wood deck. 

The sound of the partygoers drifts up over the fence before Hopper has a chance to push open the gate. He and Benny enter the yard on the far side of the lawn and wave to a few classmates that are scattered across the yard. He immediately spots Joyce, wearing her typical dark leather jacket, leaning against one of the deck railings in the middle of the party. Her dark hair is parted and hanging loosely over her shoulders and she has a drink in her hand. She looks up and they lock eyes for a moment before he pulls away due to the unbearable tension passed in their silent conversation. 

“Damn, some party,” Benny swoons. He claps Hoppers back and takes the lead, weaving through the crowd. He settles at a patio table covered in drinks and places the case of beer down. 

Hopper immediately reaches for one of the cans and swiftly downs it to steady his nerves. He has no reason to be nervous. This was Joyce. The same Joyce who he once made laugh so hard her drinks came squirting out of her nose. He takes a deep breath and reminds himself that he’s here to right a wrong and sort out how he feels. 

He notices a blonde from their first period class named Helen making eyes at Benny and he shrugs in her direction. 

“Someone has an admirer,” he teases. 

Benny pops open a can and smirks at Hopper, “I’ll be back later. If I don’t come back, even better,” he winks. Hopper shakes his head and watches as Benny makes his way over to Helen. He says something that makes her laugh and Hopper knows just by the way they're looking at each other that he won’t be driving Benny home anytime soon. 

He busies himself by talking with a few of his teammates and finds himself polishing off his third beer while talking to Allen, a student who was in his fifth period class. Allen starts off by asking him about Chrissy, but Hopper only manages to mumble an excuse about her being busy and unable to make it to the party before he gets distracted watching Joyce with a few girls he doesn’t know. 

He vaguely registers Allen say something about how lucky he is to be dating someone like Chrissy, but the only sounds that really resonates in his ears is the sound of her laugh from across the party. To be polite, Hopper asks Allen about his own girlfriend, a redhead named Abigail who was also in their fifth period class. Allen’s words fall on dead ears as Hopper can’t help himself from watching, mesmerized by the sound of Joyce’s giggle. When she catches him staring, her smile fades into a scowl and he forces himself to look away. 

He’s pretending to be engaged in his conversation with Allen when she comes darting across the lawn and smacks his forearm, knocking him a step back and away from Allen. He stares at her with wide-eyes, amused, and lets her shove at him again. He hardly falters on the second swat to the chest, and he allows his amusement to show with a smirk. She only managed to move him the first time because he was caught off guard, but next to him she’s tiny and her gesture only manages to wound his ego. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” she screams at him. He’s convinced that the ways she’s staring at him may cause him to burst into flames, he’d never seen her so upset. 

“What’s wrong with me?!” he exclaims, “You’re the one who came over here swinging.”

A few people nearby turn their heads to observe the screaming match and Joyce blushes. She steps closer to him and lowers her voice before asking her next question. 

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“I’m at the party?” he plays dumb.

“You know what I mean!” she raises her voice again. 

“Just trying to enjoy the party,” he repeats. He raises his palms to show her he has no intention of fighting with her. 

“Alone?”

“I don’t know if you noticed, but I was talking to Allen before you rudely interrupted us.”

They both turn to where Allen was standing and discover he’s long gone. 

“Where’s your girlfriend tonight?” she says. He cringes at the way she says the word girlfriend. 

“Not here.” He doesn’t offer any further explanation. “Look Joyce. I need to talk to you.” 

“Because our last conversation went so well,” she laughs. There’s a strange look in her eyes that he can’t place and he presses on. 

“Joyce, I care about you and I’m worried. Throwing parties because your parents are away, talking to all these people when we both know you can’t stand most of them, ignoring me…”

“Ignoring you? I’m ignoring you?! That’s rich, Hop.”

“Is this because of Chrissy? Is that why you won’t listen to my apology?”

“Please, I don’t give a shit about Chrissy.”

“Then would you care to fill me in on what the hell is going on here? Because one second everything is fine and the next you can hardly look at me. I know I screwed up by bailing on you but I’ve been trying to tell you that I’m sorry.”

Joyce paces away from him, folds her arms and then paces back. “Do you have some type of alarm that goes off in your head when I’m happy?” 

“What?”

“You show up here, at MY party and insist that you care about me when really all you want to do is apologize so that you'll feel better about yourself. You know what, go fuck yourself!!”

She moves to turn and storm away but Hopper catches her wrist before she can and he stares down at her with pleading eyes. 

He tugs on her arm gently, and when she gives into his pull, he leads them away from the party and towards the dead rose garden along the side of the house. Reluctantly, she follows him, though she digs her heels in and gives him a hard time. 

“Hopper what the hell!” she protests, looking back in the direction of the party. “You can’t just drag me off and…”

He has her pinned to the wall on the side of the house before she can finish speaking. His body envelopes hers, his hands frame her face, planted firmly on the brick behind her ears and he leans down to eliminate their height difference and forcefully place his lips against hers. She stills when he first presses her up against the wall, but he notices she’s kissing him back almost instantly. He grinds into her, pressing her flush against the wall while he angles his head to deepen their kiss. She tastes like stale cigarettes and cherry chapstick and he’s certain he’s never felt so light-headed. The moment he brings his hand to cup her cheek, she pulls back and instead of experiencing the sensation brought on by the taste of her lips, he’s met with an open-palmed slap. 

“What the hell are you doing?!” she shoves him away from her and walks away from the wall. 

“Joyce, I-”

“You what?! Saw me having a good time and decided it would be fun to ruin it?”

“No, that’s not…”

“Not it? Hmm, let me see, got bored of Chrissy and thought why not drag me into the mess that is your love life?” 

He stuffs his hands into his pockets and rocks back on his heels. “I thought that maybe you wanted me to…”

“Why the hell would I want that?” 

“Don’t you…” the words fail him once again and he impatiently drags his hand through his hair. 

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence! You didn’t do that because you thought I wanted you too, and I think we both know that. Now,” she huffs, squaring up to him, “why did you do that?”

He wants to tell her, to say something, anything, but he can’t tell her how he feels because he isn’t sure himself. All he knows was that the feel of her lips against his has left him breathless in a way he didn’t know was possible and that he wants to kiss her again.  Instead of saying something, he awkwardly blushes and looks away. 

“Can’t say it? Figures,” she scoffs. “Get the hell off my property.” 

She storms back into the yard, leaving Hopper alone in the garden of dead roses. 

.

.

Unable to locate Benny, Hopper leaves the party almost immediately after Joyce abandons him in the garden. He’s not sure what came over him back there. Something about the way she was standing up to him, when she told him to go fuck himself, he found it attractive. 

The realization rattles him but no more than the revelation that arose after kissing her. Why did he kiss her? The short answer, he wanted to. More than anything, he wanted to know what it felt like to taste her lips. The more complicated answer was because he selfishly wanted to know if he was jealous watching her with Lonnie. He was. Incredibly fucking jealous. 

He didn’t regret kissing her, but he did regret the fallout it caused. Standing there, looking into her big brown eyes, he was certain Benny was right. The way Joyce asked about Chrissy told him she was jealous, and that meant what Benny said about her being interested in him had to be true, so he kissed her.

Don’t lie to yourself, he shakes his head. You kissing her had nothing to do with what you thought she wanted. It was selfish. You did it because you wanted to. You would do it again because you liked it. 

He went to her party so that he could sort out how he felt and all he managed to do was confuse himself further and make Joyce angrier with him. Kissing Joyce was better than he dreamed it would be. He felt that kiss in his toes. If Joyce hadn't stopped them, there’s no telling how far things would have gone. There was definitely something physical there. He runs his thumb over his lower lip, the ghost of her kiss haunting him. Definitely something there. 

But, did he want more? Joyce was attractive, he wasn’t blind and it was now clear that he was sexually attracted to her, but was there an emotional connection? - a romantic one? 

He’s half way through his walk back home (he decided he’d had one too many beers to drive) when a car horn blares from behind him. He turns back and spots Chrissy leaning out of the driver side window of her dad’s oldsmobile. 

“James, get in,” she smirks. Stopping the car, she waits until he climbs into the passenger seat before she continues down the road to his house. They don’t say much on the drive, Hopper too preoccupied with his own thoughts and Chrissy wondering why the hell he was walking home, but she wasn’t daring enough to ask. He doesn’t ask where she’s coming from, or comment on the irony of her timing, he just sits and lets the silence consume him. 

“Do you want to come in?” he mumbles when they arrive. 

“I’ve got to get my dad's car back. Tomorrow,” she smiles. She leans over the center console and places a kiss on his cheek. 

He waves and walks up to the front door. Once she’s out of sight, he lets out a deep breath. He had to laugh, what were the odds that Chrissy would be driving down Joyce’s street at the exact time he decides to leave it? It had to be a cruel trick of fate, someone punishing him for kissing Joyce when he was with Chrissy. 

Kissing Joyce. Jesus. He hardly has time to over analyze the awkward encounter with Chrissy in the car because his mind is still back in the rose garden. 

He feels more confused than when he left for the party. He rehearsed his stupid apology speech for hours, went over what would happen when she saw him at the party,  but none of the pre-planned scenarios in his head panned out. 

He heads to bed a mess of questions. What if he hadn’t showed up at Joyce’s party? What if he told her he missed having her in his life, because he did. If tonight taught him anything, it was that Joyce was one of the best things in his life. He would give anything to rewind and fix things. They would have gone to the party together and made fun of everyone who got drunk and did something stupid. They would ditch the crowd and pass cigarettes back and forth and he would steal a kiss when he drove her home. Except, that last step didn’t fit with his proposed rewind and he knows it’s too late to go back. 

Before he drifts off to sleep, he concludes that he doesn't know anything anymore. 

I don't know anything

But I know I miss you

[harringtown]

Stranger Things: Quarantine Edition

think that parks and rec reunion that was done, but with the stranger things crew. k. Lets begin. Also I decide canon, and who is still alive, so yes, hopper and el are happily quarantined together in the cabin, don’t argue w me

• anyways. I have no regrets.

Hopper and El: Tight Quarters

spend 85% of the time watching westerns and crime docs. They’ve also gotten really into board games. Monopoly has been Banned.

‘Hopper lost after six hours’ ‘The only thing that should last six hours is a long nap’ ‘He is a…sour loser.’ ‘It’s sore, and I will cut tv privileges again’ ‘bet’

Mike showed El tiktok, so all the lingo? Driving Hopper mad

speaking of Mike: he spends half his time sitting in front of the cabin window. He and El watch movies through the glass and chatter about nonsense until Hopper has had Enough and orders Mike to go home

Dustin: Mad Scientist

basically turning his home into a laboratory. His mother and the cat are his unwitting assistants. He has an entire army of robot spoons and forks. It’s slightly terrifying and his mother is desperate for lockdown to lift so he doesnt turn the house into that horrible house from the Disney movie

The Byers: Tik-Tok Goes the Clock

you guessed it. Will Byers spends all of quarantine on the app, and gets Joyce hooked. He regularly puts on powerpoint presentations (topics include ‘Ranking Jonathan’s Girlfriend’s’ which is just as funny as you think it’d be, ‘why Ratatouille the film deserves better’ and more) 

Jonathan is in hell (he can’t get those horrible songs out of his head) 

He calls Nancy to bitch, but she’s just as deep in tiktok land as the others, and sends them to him until he caves and gets hooked, too.

Lucas & Erica: Barbie V. GI Joe

the garage has been converted into a dollhouse/battlefield. Barbies and GI-JOE’s go head to head in combat, and also fall in love. Lucas will never admit it, but he actually enjoys the hell out of it. Erica is really good at the war games, for some reason.

Robin & Steve: Salon Central

Robin is constantly four seconds away from smacking Steve.

 They’ve watched so much Netflix it no longer asks them if they’re ‘still watching.’ 

Steve learns how to cut hair online, and though he goes through a rough few batches, Robin eventually lets him cut her hair, too. When lockdown starts to lift, Steve gives everyone haircuts in the front yard of he and Robin’s apartment complex.

[okaybutlikeimagine]

What about Billy not used to being in a safe environment so whenever Hop starts getting frustrated Billy sort of just... shows up ready to get hit. And it doesn’t really register to Hopper that it’s happening until Billy just snaps at him one day that he can take it, but can’t handle the waiting game for the hit to finally come.

I’m gonna start sobbing don’t dO THIS except please do bc i love breaking my own heart and then mending it back together ♥ ♥ ♥

It takes Billy a long long long time to get comfortable in Hop’s cabin and one of the biggest reasons is that Hop does his very hardest to make Billy comfortable. Hop doesn’t give Billy any reason to fear coming home. Hop is aware of what happened in Billy’s past and tries to understand the horrors of what he went through but he learns more and more every day and every day he tries harder and harder to be more patient, more constructive, more understanding. And it’s sweet, it’s so fucking sweet, but Billy just doesn’t understand it and so he waits. He waits for it to get bad and he expects it and he really hurts his heart by doing it but he just can’t help it.

And not to get too personal, but I know a lot of the people who talk about Billy also talk about their own abuse that they’ve been through, so i’m gonna join in here. And while i’ve never been physically abused, i’ve been emotionally abused basically my whole life and was very heavily emotionally and mentally abused for a couple of years and let me tell you: the waiting was the worst fucking part for me. My abuser went from treating me horribly for about 2 weeks at a time to then pretending like everything was perfectly fine for a day or two. And that went on for 2 years. And the absolute worst part for me was the waiting. The days when things seemed to get better but you just know in your heart it’s going to get bad again. They’re going to hate you again for seemingly no reason and they’ll refuse to give you a reason and every day that it’s “better” is a reminder that it’s going to feel that much worse when it inevitably gets bad again and wow that fucking sucks. To the point where you start to wish it would just stay bad forever bc that’s better than being tricked into a false sense of security.

And that’s what I think Billy would feel when moving in with Hopper. Every day that it’s good is a reminder of everything that was bad and it all feels like a horrible trick is being played. And at first Billy is real reserved and calm and kind of emotionless when he’s at Hop’s cabin bc he’s not trying to stir the pot, he’s just trying to sleep under a roof and that’s basically it. It’s not until he actually gets adopted and moves in that he starts to wait for it. Like, really wait for it. Like, when he gets home from school some days he’ll sit on the couch for hours with the TV on in front of him and a blank stare on his face, not seeing a damn thing just sitting there picturing everything going to hell. Sitting there and waiting for Hop to come home and explode. And it feels like someone has a heavy hand around his heart and is squeezing just enough to make him feel like it’s going to burst. There’s so much pressure in his chest. He wants to scream.

And sometimes he does. He starts to. He kicks the couch or the wall or the table or the dresser and he screams and throws a fucking fit, basically, and he looks to Hop who just…… looks tired. Whose eyebrows are knitted like Neil’s would be but who just sighs and raises his voice a little bit but only loud enough so Billy can hear him over all of his own yelling. So Hop can tell him he’s going to take away his toys. Like his car, or his tv privileges.

Billy will get drunk and Hop will make sure he’s physically alright before punishing him. Billy stays out too late and Hop is stern and strict but never lays a hand on him. Billy flinches out of habit when Hop goes to touch him and it doesn’t take long before Hop stops doing it. And Billy isn’t stupid, he watches as Hop begins to treat him like a scared animal, and Billy really wants it to piss him off more than it does. But in reality, it makes him feel kind of… cared for?

But that scares Billy more. Every day that goes by is a day where he’s forced to lean a little further out over the edge but is just waiting to be pushed. It’s so much. It’s too, too much. He’s going to go insane waiting.

So he incites it.

He’s had a beer or two but he’s more drunk on his anxiety and fear and stress than anything else so when Hop gets home Billy sits there and lets the man say hi and ask if he wants anything specific from the grocery store because he’ll be going tomorrow and “if you have time and wanna come, you can do that too” and-

And Billy is going crazy. He’s a shaken up soda bottle. He’s a firework that failed to launch. He’s got so much pressure inside of him his ears are whistling with it like a kettle screaming in the morning and he stands himself up and stares Hop down and his eyes are red from where the tears threatened and he’s screaming: “Just fucking do it already!”

Hop blinks.

“Wha-?”

“What the fuck are you waiting for? What are you, a pussy? Think I’m a pussy? Because I can fucking handle it. What I can’t handle is all of this waiting around! So just fucking get it over with, goddamnit!”

And Hop is…. Confused as all hell. Blinking and hands itching to rub at his eyes to check if this is all a dream.

“Do what?” Hop asks.

“Hit me!” Billy yells. “Just fucking hit me! I can’t…. I can’t do this! This is fucking worse! You sadistic motherfucker, just get it over with and hit me!”

“Billy I’m-”

“Don’t give me that bullshit! I know you’re dying to! I’m- I’ve been… I’m a brat. I’m rude and I break shit and I don’t give you respect and you’re just dying to hit me, I can tell, so just fucking do it already!”

And Billy’s hands are twitching, looking to punch someone himself because there’s too much inside of him. There’s too much of everything inside of him. And he’s watching Hop’s eyes watch him with fear and that same fucking concern that’s always in his eyes and Billy just…. He can’t take this. He’d rather fight than sit here and understand what he’s feeling.

So he stomps over, boots hitting the ground and reaches his hands out to shove Hop.

“What, do you need some more reasons?” He asks, shoving Hop again. Hop just lets it happen, stumbling back a bit. Billy begins to punch at him, landing a few on his chest but they’re weaker than he wants bc he’s tired and confused and honestly freaked out at the thought of actually hurting this man and wow that’s kind of a new feeling.

And Hop is…. Speechless. He lets Billy hit him. He watches the boy tire himself out. He briefly thinks of the bruises he’ll probably have in the morning. The boy gets a solid punch in, but Hop already knew that, bc he’s heard through the town about the fights he gets in.

Billy’s just standing there, breathing heavy bc he’s winded. He feels tired and sick and so winded and he flinches hard when Hop puts a hand on his shoulder but Hop doesn’t pull away this time. In fact, he doubles down and puts his other hand on Billy’s other shoulder.

“Son-”

“Stop calling me that.” Billy mumbles but Hop shakes his head.

“Son.” He doubles down. He’s gonna keep doubling down. This shit is too much for him to watch and not say something about. “You… I’m not going to hit you. I’m never going to hit you.”

Billy grumbles. Squirms.

“I can fucking handle it you jackass-”

“The point isn’t that you can handle it, the point is that you never should have had to learn to handle it in the first place. Don’t you get it? You didn’t deserve what you got before. You didn’t deserve any of that, alright?” Billy is still squirming, eyes squeezed shut, water in the corners as he tries desperately to get away but Hop refuses. “Damnit kid, will you listen to me?? You didn’t deserve any of what you got! And that asshole of a man didn’t deserve you!”

And Billy feels the sob pull itself out of his chest and up through his throat and his face flushes bc of it. Bc he’s embarrassed. Bc he can’t believe he’s crying to this man right now but this is his… this is his dad, isn’t it?

“I just…. I know it’s… I know. I know you want to-”

“What I want is for you to drink some water, eat some food, and get some rest. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“But-”

“I promise I won’t let anything hurt you.” Hop says determinedly and incredibly stupidly. Bc it’s a stupid promise to make, it really is. Billy knows it.

“You can’t promise that.”

“Well I just did, so.” Hop is stubborn. Billy lets him be. Billy lets Hop pull him into a tight hug. Billy lets himself feel comfortable in it.

[skinteresting-enough]

Code Lyoko: Transistorized

I’ve made a post earlier about how a hypothetical Code Lyoko reboot could use some of Transistor’s elements, but the elements I mentioned (monsters and weapons) would likely cause copyright infringement if these concepts were straight up copied. So I’ve been thinking about what other elements of Transistor this reboot could use, and I’ve come up with the following.

Spoilers for Code Lyoko and Transistor under the cut, obviously. Also spoiler warning for Psycho-Pass and Puella Magi Madoka Magica.

So the first thing I came up with was what XANA’s master plan was. In canon it was a bit unclear; likely to take over the world or destroy humanity, but then what? This is the first thing I updated.

Reboot XANA’s master plan is to convert all of humanity into processing power for itself. It wants to do this via forcing humans into the scanners to Lyoko, then sapping away their consciousness via the Scyphozoa, then returning their soulless bodies to earth, take out their brains (which can still function, just not support a human consciousness anymore) and hook them up to itself. Think like the Sibyl system in Psycho-Pass.

Originally, this XANA was created by an organization which the Men in Black are enforcers of. This organization is either France-based or USA-based, and it intended XANA to be used as a (somewhat extreme and definitely unethical) kind of war machine. So originally, XANA had a limiter that it could only attack the people of a set country (or set of countries) once set loose. However, once Franz Hopper discovered that he was working on a program with this person, he removed this limiter and uploaded the limitless XANA to a drive, and fled with it to the city where Kadic Academy is located, which also housed a supercomputer, originally intended as a facility for people to be scanned. Without Lyoko, this would be enough for XANA to sap people’s consciousnesses.

So now there are two things for Franz to do: first, make sure that the Men in Black cannot access this particular site, and second, to ensure that XANA is left considerably less powerful.

For the first thing, he constructed a sort of terminal, which continuously scans the internet to find information on the current Men in Black, particularly their looks. This terminal also controls the elevator with a face scanner thingy, which scans the faces of the people who want to access the elevator. If a face is identical to the face of a Man in Black, the person with that face will be barred from the elevator. (Also, this means that only one person can enter the elevator at a time, before the doors are shut to the next person.)

For the second thing, Franz constructed Lyoko, as a sort of prison for XANA. He also created the Towers on Lyoko as a way for potential administrators to Lyoko to interact with the real world on a much larger scale than they normally could. However, there was a bug in this program, which allowed XANA to also access the Towers. Franz began to work on solving this bug, but it was at this point that the Men in Black discovered where he was hiding out.

He also discovered that the Men in Black had discovered a way to “posses” people (the Spectres), but these possessed people also had a very specific brain wave pattern. He then installed a brain scanner thingy to the terminal, which prevented the possessed people from being able to access the facility.

Soon after, the Men in Black managed to abduct Anthea. Now Franz was really starting to get nervous. His administrator function was still buggy, in that any being who became an administrator lost their memories and became unable to return to Earth (he found this out by experimenting on the pets the family had*. Classy action, Franz). So he decided that, while he himself would not become an administrator, Aelita would, so that she wouldn’t be completely helpless on Lyoko. He deemed that staying in the real world would be too dangerous for her.

(*Also, the earlier monsters are based on these pets. It’s only when XANA gets powerful enough to access the internet that the monsters become more monstrous.)

He also updated the terminal to scan the internet for information specifically related to the organization the Men in Black belonged to. He then virtualized himself and Aelita, and then the terminal shut the supercomputer down, only to activate it again when that organization was disbanded, or when an outsider (i.e. not a Man in Black) turned it on again.

Ten years later, enter Jeremy Belpois, who turned on the supercomputer, activating Lyoko and XANA again. However, due to another limiter Franz installed on XANA, the program was considerably less dangerous. It could still increase in power via the Return to the Past function, however, this function can also only be accessed via the terminal, by a non-possessed, non-MiB person.

(The way this power increase works is kinda like how Madoka from PMMM got more power potential any time Homura rewound time. The hypothetical power XANA had in the timeline that got cut short by the RttP got transferred to the new timeline (albeit with a not insignificant loss, so that XANA’s power doesn’t get doubled every time the RttP was used). This is at the cost of XANA being unable to use any power during the time the RttP rewound.)

So Jeremy discovers Aelita, without memories and with an inability to go to earth. He starts working on a way to recover at least Aelita’s ability to return to earth, so they can turn of the supercomputer and neutralize XANA again. With the help of his friends, Yumi, Ulrich and Odd, he battles against XANA’s activated Towers.

(As for why Franz Hopper didn’t rematerialize himself, he took a while to recover his consciousness after the ten years the supercomputer was turned off (administrators do not have this problem) and by the time he recovered, XANA had already messed with the rematerialization ability. Jeremy had no idea Franz was still around until the end of season 2.)

Also, due to XANA’s power loss engineered by Franz, it is unable to construct the Scyphozoa and use Spectres until season 2. After this, it starts to chase Aelita to reconstruct her ability to return to Earth without the Code Earth. Obviously this is not with the intent to let Aelita live a normal life on earth, so Jeremy and co try to protect her from the Scyphozoa until they find a way to reconstruct Aelita’s rematerialization ability without XANA immediately possessing her. So that is basically the plot of season 2.

Season 3: due to the administrator privileges it retrieved from Aelita’s mind, XANA is now considerably more powerful, though still only able to affect reality with the help of Lyoko’s Towers. It starts to construct Replica’s without the Lyoko Warriors’ knowledge, and starts to try to destroy Lyoko so that the Lyoko Warriors can’t interfere anymore. It’s towards the end of the season that the Lyoko Warriors decide to have William join them. Obviously this goes wrong, but XANA decides not to erase all of William’s consciousness, just enough to make him a puppet, but still enough left to make him able to more effectively manipulate the Lyoko Warriors. (Also, William’s also an administrator now.)

Season 4: due to figuring out how administrator privileges work, Jeremy has given Yumi, Ulrich and Odd these privileges as well (which also comes with an outfit upgrade). They start hunting for the Replica’s, but on the Replica’s they are unable to access the privileges and return to their normal forms.

Hope this didn’t turn out too rambly (oh, who am I kidding, it totally did) and that if you read it until this point, everything is at least clear enough. If you want to ask questions about this au, just send me an ask or reply to this point. Obviously if I want to really write this au, I need to sit down and think about it a lot more, but your questions may be able to help me flesh things out.

[sxveme-2]

hidden // din djarin

description: the life of nobility wasn't one for everyone. some would rather duck under the shadows around them, especially after a great betrayal to the name of a planet but despite being hidden, not everyone can avoid the blinding lights of danger. whether it be those after those who had escaped, or the poor bounty hunter who ended up picking her up. both with a large bounty on their heads.    follow Cloak as she lives the days as an escaped noble, hiding from the eyes of serenno after the fall of count dooku, shacking up with one of the most sought after child and the mandalorian unfortunate enough to have a big heart.

chapter three: the one with a sister

warnings: violence, fight scenes

word count: 3323

       "what do you think you're doing, leta?" she hissed, stalking forward and ripping the dress from the young girls hands, "why are you in my closet?" she snapped, hugging the aged fabric closer to her chest as she glared down at the raven haired girl.

      "looking at which dresses of yours I can burn." the twelve year old smirked, reaching for another one of her most sacred possessions.

      "no. not happening." she scoffed, tugging at the small girls arm, dragging her away from the dresses, "you know you're not allowed in my chambers. if I find you in here again I'll send you out to the forest beasts."

       she didn't actually know if their were beasts in the forest. she assumed there was. there had been many nights where she'd snuck out from the castle and wandered through the expanse forest line. she'd encountered small creatures, but never anything murderous or grand. she mostly just said this to scare her younger half-sister into leaving her alone. leta never wanted to hang out with her or spend time, no, she only ever antagonized and ridiculed her. but the idea of the young princess getting ahold of her mothers dresses sent a strike of venom through her, and her tone came out harsh and aggressive. that of which was her mothers held a sacred place in her heart, and she'd be damned if a twerp like leta would get in the way of that.

       "you'd be executed for treason of the highest order!" the younger royal exclaimed, turning and stamping her foot as she stared down the elder princess.

       "then my wish would finally come true. even five minutes without you would make my life complete." she smiled tightly, shutting the large double doors of her chambers in leta's face.

        that little girl was as vile as they came. one more than one occasion, she had woken up with paint in her hair and leta and her friends giggling outside. she'd draw on her favourite gowns, hide her crown. it didn't matter. and it wasn't just her who got the brute end of the stick, the little girl terrorized the entire kingdom. from stomping on guards feet to defacing the throne room. but never once did she face punishment. her mother was just as evil and vile, so she paid no mind to her daughters antics. but her father? well, she expected something out of him. but instead, he said nothing. allowing and encouraging these antagonistic acts.

       for a little girl whose name meant joyful or gladly, she sure made everyone miserable.

        sliding down onto the soft cushion of her closets couch, she placed her face into the fabric of the dress leta had been holding. it had been twelve years since her mother had died, but not a day goes by without something reminding her of the woman. today, it was the dresses. the ones that she had managed to keep and place carefully on hangers in a, what she had believed to be, locked display case. for no one to touch. alongside the delicate crown and memory of the kind woman. one of grace and dignity. not of malice and corruption. but she supposed that was where her parents marriage failed. her father was a coldhearted king with no regard to the wellbeing of his people. while her mother was believed to be an angel to the people. a saving grace to provide a sense of understanding. after the fall of dooku, her father had ceased his political standing to rewrite the entirety of the planets government.

        creating that of a king, and that of a queen. whom shall only be succeeded by kin of their own. leaving the pressure on her shoulders. she didn't want it.

-----

        "a job?" she questioned, "what on earth could be going on on a planet like this that would require a mandalorian?"

        "a violent group of outlaws are planning on raiding the village here tonight." he stated quietly, "you are responsible for the kid. this is a test. if even a scratch finds itself on the kids head I swe- "

        "I got it. no one will go near the kid." she interrupted, looking down at the green guy, "we'll be alright, eh buddy?" she cooed, bouncing him gently, "do you know anything else about these supposed outlaws? are they like escaped criminals."

        "no idea. apparently they came in a foreign ship a few days ago." he shrugged, looking down at the beaming child she was holding, who was grabbing at the girls shirt.

        "mind if I come with to take a look? I've worked with peli for five years, I can help you identify the ships origins." she shrugged.

        while that wasn't a lie, it wasn't why she would have known the ships origins. she had bounced from planet to planet for a while when she first ran from her past. coming into contact with a variety of ships and different makers. her knowledge on spaceships reached much further than being able to repair them. each planet seemed to have it's own unique touch to its native ships, and not only had she been a planet hopper for a while, her past gave her the wear and tear of visiting the vast galaxy. and being able to learn about these different things through her privilege's of her blood.

         "why not, more eyes the better." the man that mando had been talking to boomed as he approached, giving a warm smile to her, "now who's this mando? new special friend?"

        "no." the two stated in unison, grim tones evident in their words.

        "she's the kids new caretaker," cara chuckled, "they share zero romantic feelings. they barely even share friendly feelings." she explained, placing her hand on her waist.

        "he doesn't exactly give much of an opportunity for someone to like him." she chided, sending a glance to the side at the tall man, "bit of a jerk."

        "you talk too much." his robot like voice muttered as the two in front of them let out a soft chuckle at the interactions. earning a gentle coo from the small child in her arms.

-----

       "you're telling me I could have just put him in this thing?" she stated, gesturing to the silver egg that was following mando close behind, "and you failed to mention this?"

        they had all decided collectively that going by foot to the landing sight would be less obvious than flying over there, and they could sneak up on whoever these outlaws were before they managed an attack. if they could figure out who they were exactly up against, the fight itself would present itself as much less difficult. and if the threat was small, they could terminate it where they stood. but first and foremost, they had to identify the craft. karga had said the ship was fairly ornate yet still had a rustic and fighter like fade to it. he hadn't seen anyone around it when he had managed a glimpse the day that it had landed. but he explained that it was quite large, and that worried him. for there could be a large group on it.

        "I wanted to see if you'd figure it out." mando's modulated voice muttered with a tinge of sarcasm to it, "and you didn't, so. clearly you're not as smart as peli said."

        "I knew it was a thing, I just didn't realize you could make it follow you." she snapped back, readjusting the sack on her shoulder, "y'know, I should probably have one of those things. as his new caretaker and all."

        "we'll get one made for you, Cloak." cara piped in, patting the girls back as she fell into stride with her, "you know, I've had this feeling since you arrived. do I know you?"

         tilting her head to the side, she watched the ex-shock trooper with furrowed eyebrows. so it hadn't just been her. the entire time they had been there she hadn't been able to exactly place why she found cara to be so familiar. stormtroopers never removed their helmets at her castle, but perhaps it was the aura of cara that was familiar. she had seen a few shock troopers in her life, and she was sure the other woman had seen quite a few cloaked mystery people in her days. but it was almost unsettling that both seemed to recognized one another without actually knowing who the other was. she was worried that if cara figured it out, and knew her identity somehow, that the entire past five years would have been a complete waste for her.

       "mm, don't think so." she stated simply, picking up her pace subtly to catch up with the flying hatch that the kid was in.

       "we're coming up on it." karga called, and the small group ducked behind a large magma rock a bit of a ways away.

       she pulled the goggles she wore off of her eyes and rested them on her forehead in an attempt to somehow get a better view. but she couldn't. they moved quietly a bit closer to where the figure seemed much large. voices were hushed, and they ducked once more. leaning over a large crevice in the rock, she squinted her eyes at the ship. glancing over the ridges and the different features, her heart began to pick up speed. every time she identified a distinct feature, her stomach dropped further and further closer to her ass. the entire design was something a little to familiar for her liking. and she knew exactly where it came from. for she was there, when the ship was made.

        on serenno.

-----

        "what do you mean that's a serennian ship?" mando scoffed as they walked into a cantina in the town, sliding into a booth, "why would a serennian ship be here?"

        her leg bounced rapidly as she held the child on her lap. her breathing had yet to settle and her chest continued to grow tighter the more she was questioned. the cantina around them was still loud and thriving, meaning that it was fairly safe for them to be talking about the topic. but she was worried that this would somehow link the two pieces of her identity together. that her quick knowledge on the ship would give away all that she had worked for over the past half of a decade. she didn't want to talk about it. she didn't even want to think about it. if there were serennians here...she didn't know what she would do.

       "damn it Cloak," cara muttered, "are you sure?"

       nodding, she cleared her throat. finally regaining her composure, "yes I'm positive." she stated simply, slowing her leg down to feed grogu a piece of food.

       "how can you be so sure?" greef karga asked, leaning forward across the table, "if they're serennian- "

       "I never said they would be from serenno." she stated simply, placing down the bowl of food, looking up at the others, "it is a serennian ship. I know them well. if there are serennian soldiers on the ship I'm afraid you may need more than a single mandalorian." she explained, allowing the child to grip onto her finger.

       the conversation grew quiet after her final statement. everyone stared at her, wondering just how she had this knowledge. she had stories she'd told before about her knowledge of serenno, saying it was one of the planets she had stayed at for a bit before ending up on tatooine. she could easily say she had a run in with a guard and barely got away with her wits. but she knew she had spoken too much. but she hadn't lied, if the ship was full of serennian soldiers, than she wasn't sure if simply a mandalorian could take them on. she knew how to fight those types of soldiers, she had a tendency to sneak into their training and watch. find their weakness. the kinks in their armour. but she didn't want to leave any more possible crumbs for someone to follow and find out exactly who she was.

      "well then we'll need reinforcements." mando stated calmly, sneaking a glance towards the cloaked girl who continued peacefully feeding the child. and clearly avoiding eye contact. though she had put her goggles back on, she wasn't sure they could even see her eyes.

       after the awkward meeting, greef karga and cara went off to find a few more backup fighters. people who would help the fight. leaving mando, her, and the child alone in the cantina. a tense aura evident among the group, and silence only broken by the small noises from the kid. he continued to tug gently at her pointer finger, becoming entertained with the shifting of her glove. she didn't dare speak, worried that mando would launch into a million questions. she prayed to the maker he didn't. she didn't need anyone finding out who she was or where she was from.

      "so you really were a mechanic?" he asked, breaking the silence with a question that had caught her off guard originally.

       she nodded, looking up, "yes. I wasn't just a leech who used Peli for her kindness and resources. I'm a good mechanic, I'm a good healer. and apparently I'm good with kids."

       "you ever been to serenno?"

      she bit her lip underneath her mask, "yes. before I ended up on tatooine, I tried to find the place that fit. serenno wasn't good for me."

       "where are you originally from?" he questioned, leaning further across the table. she could feel his piercing gaze underneath the thick beskar helmet.

       "jakku." she lied, keeping her eyes trailed on his in order to seem somewhat put together. in an attempt to keep the facade she was the farthest from serennian.

       "...can you fight?"

       "why? trying to get your beskar covered ass kicked?"

       "perfect. you've got double duty tonight. ensuring the kid is safe, and fighting some serennians. got it?"

        "do I have a choice?"

-----

       the answer was no. she didn't have a choice. no matter if she fought it or not, there was no decision making here on her end. her main priority would be taking care of the child, but she supposed the ragtag group of fighters could use any advantage or support they could get. the only combat she knew was the top tier of serennian guards, after managing to charm the captain to teacher her the ways. so she supposed they may have a bit of an edge up on the others...but still, her main priority was hiding her own identity. not saving the stupid village.

       "kid if you try and move out of this thing I'll string you up by your toes." she cooed, clicking the hatch shut and turning back towards where the others stood, making her way over.

       cara had one of the remotes made for her so that the hatch would follow her as well when she needed. making her job much easier. instead of caring around a child in her arms the entirety of their stay. plus, it would just be safer for the child. being able to stay hidden as well as her being able to keep tabs on him the entire time if need be. seeing as his survival probably equated to her own. as much as she had come to despise the mandalorian quickly, she knew he was dangerous, and could overpower her easily. and she didn't enjoy the idea of being killed because she failed at the one task she had.

       "here they come." mando's voice called as everyone ducked behind magma rocks, waiting to launch a surprise attack on the raiders.

       glancing around the rock, she lowered her eyes to try and figure out if their guess was right. and it was. a group of about 20 serennian soldiers were marching forward towards the village. she wasn't sure what they wanted, but her main guess was her father trying to take over another planet. whenever he attempted when she was back home, it never worked. and merely wasted men and supplies. but no one dared attempt to oppose him, for the power he did hold was immense. and his government had shown to be impenetrable. however, what she didn't recognize at first, was the sole person with no helmet on walking forward. dark hair waved in the hot wind of nevarrol, creating a cloak like effect as she and the group walked forward. it was when they got closer, when she realized just who she was dealing with.

       "you okay?" cara whispered from beside her as she slumped her back down against the rock.

       her mouth ran dry and hands grew sweaty in her gloves. suddenly, her mask became suffocating and everything around her seemed to close in on her, despite being in an open area. her stomach twisted and eyes grew hot and wet as she listened to the footsteps grow closer. she knew who was leading the attack. someone that was as vile and cruel as they come. selfishness coursing through her veins. a greed and hatred towards what seemed like the entirety of the galaxy fueling antagonistic acts. but never, did she expect to see her leading a raid on a peaceful village on a burnt planet.

       "well, been better." she admitted. but before cara could reply, mando gave the cue to begin the attack on the group.

         planting her palm on the dark rock behind her, she launched herself into a backflip over the large piece of earth. landing gracefully on her feet, the shooting began. the plan seemed to work, catching the group off guard. but it didn't take long for the group of twenty soldiers to regain their composure and begin to retaliate. she pushed herself off of the ground and wrapped her legs tightly around the neck of a soldier, squeezing tightly as she leaned backwards and wrapped her arms around another's. twisting her body, she tossed the first soldier backwards and heard the sick crack of his neck echo in her ears. launching herself around onto the second soldiers back, the click of her blaster sent her and the now deceased soldier flying.

        catching herself on her hand, she pushed upwards and landed on her feet once more. glancing back towards the hatch, she saw that one of the soldiers was heading it's way. no doubt believing it to be a bomb of some sort. leaping into action, she planted a foot on the top of a magma rock and launched forward once more, flattening her body so her feet came into contact with the back of the armour, sending them forward against another rock. she opened the hatch to ensure the kid was fine, before closing it and shooting the soldier directly between where his protective helmet met the bodes of their armour. except it went directly through the small gap between the two pieces.

        "you're quite the acrobat." a sickly familiar voice cooed behind her, "I believe none of my soldiers are agile enough to handle someone of your stature."

        turning slowly, she came face to face with that same estranged and villainous face that she did not miss. the dark curtains of hair flowing freely over her shoulders. her olive skin glistened from sweat of the battle, and head tilted as she observed. she had grown up exponentially over the past five years. and she felt a knife twist in her gut as the two made eye contact. luckily, every little piece of her was covered. from the hairs on her head to the bottoms of her feet. unless she had become more observant, she shouldn't be able to know who it was.

        but she did. she knew who this woman was. the leader of the army. she knew exactly who she was, and what she was as a child.

        a sister.

[likedovesinthewnd]

Stranger Things Season 3

*SPOILERS* I tagged it but just in case. Enter at your own risk. You’ve been warned.

So... I uh... have lots of feelings I’m still processing about this season and where better to rant about them than on this hellsite we call home. I’ve been waiting to log on here only bc it’s still so fresh and I’m STILL reeling from the emotionally intense episode 8.

Here goes nothing.

Ok, so first off, I loved this season so much. As a fan from day one, I felt like this was an amazing season— well worth the long ass wait. I loved the character development we had with the kids and having it set in summer was a nice change of pace. I’m admittedly not a Jopper shipper but I really enjoyed seeing their friendship blossom and by the end of it I was ok with them being together. Max and Lucas are by far my favorite couple although Mike and Eleven are just too precious for this world. The young summer love vibes were so nostalgic. Can we take a moment to talk about Dustin and Suzie singing The Neverending Story?? My whole dead ass heart bursted at the seams. Will destroying Castle Byers was so hard to watch. Just seeing the kids navigate through the process of growing up and leaving childhood was bittersweet.

Now on to the ladies. Karen Wheeler has to be one of my favorites. She’s just such a damn good mother and the fact that she did the right thing instead of cheat on Ted speaks volumes about her character. Karen’s love and loyalty for her family runs deep and you can’t tell me otherwise. I loved her talk with Nancy the most and how pivotal it was to Nancy’s storyline in this season. I can’t tell you how angry I got at my tv every time I saw all that gross ass toxic workplace misogyny go down. But Nancy said fuck that and went with her gut and she was right. So another thing, probably my favorite thing, this season was Max and Eleven’s friendship! Give me all the healthy supportive female friendships you got, Duffers. The mall montage was everything and more. Just seeing El come into her own, not as Hopper’s daughter or Mike’s gf, but as her own individual was beautiful. Joyce tho! She was fresh out of fucks this season and I was loving it. She kicked so much ass and I’m really glad we got the strong and assertive depiction we deserved. Also umm Robin! See, when the Russo’s said we’d get an lgbtq character in Marvel, I had envisioned this— take note boys, this is what inclusion looks like. They didn’t overly sexualize her identity and most importantly Steve continued to treat her the same because guess what? It’s normal.

Speaking of Steve, he continues to be a devoted mother of 6. We love Steve lol. Jonathan kinda lost me for a minute when he blew up on Nancy after they were fired. Miss me with that “you’re rich and I’m poor” sob story. Y’all are adults now and you’re still far more privileged than her and it shows. To be fair they were both right and wrong but I got a little heated when he threw that in her face. I still love emo Jonathan. I know a lot of people hate Billy but I still felt for him. The flashbacks to his childhood broke my heart and his death was as tragic and redeeming as they get. Honorable mentions to Alexei and Murray for making me laugh so hard this season.

Ok now that I ranted to absolutely no one about how I feel bc I don’t know what else to do about all these feelings, I’m going to talk Hopper.

Deep breath.

Ok. So I have always maintained that Hop is a son of a bitch, a total bastard piece of shit mess of a man. It’s why I love him so much. I mean what’s more relatable than that scene of him stress eating chips and salsa lol! The thing is, we’ve never seen him in the wild without some mission involved. He was really rough around the edges this season, at times deranged and almost always a complete asshole. I really feel like he was trying his best to parent a teen El. Parenthood in general is brutal, the learning curve is unforgiving and you almost always feel like you’re failing. Mix all that in with a man who is terrible at expressing his feelings and you get Dad Hopper. What I love most about him is how imperfect he is, how incredibly flawed and damaged he is. But underneath all that he’s has the biggest heart of all and if you’re lucky enough to get his love it’s forever and it’s unconditional. The feelings speech he wrote broke me, I was full on trembling ugly crying on the couch in 90 degree weather. It wasn’t cute. But my feelings for these characters are real. It’s funny how a show, movie, or story can do that too you.

Point is, I’m hella emotionally wrecked, it’s hot as balls outside and it’s cancer season. So I guess what I’m trying to say is that the Duffers need to hurry tf up and give us season 4 bc I just KNOW “the American” is my favorite piece of shit, fat ass Indiana cop.

Chime in in the comments and get this discourse going lol

[yasbxxgie]

Satire and Subversion in Ishmael Reed’s “Conjugating Hindi”

Back in the 1800s, South Asian men arrived in the United States as peddlers or seamen. According to historian Vivek Bald in Bengali Harlem and the Lost Histories of South Asian America, they were single, and instead of creating enclaves of their own, they assimilated and married into Black and Puerto Rican communities in areas like Harlem and New Orleans. The fluidity between Black American and South Asian American communities didn’t disappear, but continued into the Jim Crow era, when some Black Americans put on turbans and pretended to be Indian to avoid harassment. Some used exotica to sell the illusion, and at that time of pre-yoga, when people knew even less about South Asians than they know now, the ruse worked. People could not tell the difference between Black people and the people identified as “Hindoos.”

Due to the United States’s immigration laws and policies, over the last several decades, professional Indians have become much more visible to the mainstream than working-class South Asian immigrants had previously been. Their collective economic success in the United States has been used to produce the harmful model minority myth, a myth that aggressively omits the numerous structural factors that have conferred advantages on members of this group: caste, class privilege, Brahmin and other upper-caste networks in America, India’s affirmative action laws, socialism built into India’s constitution, and learning English due to India’s prior status as a British colony. Although many Indian Americans subscribe to the model minority myth, Indian Americans as a bloc have been reliable Democratic voters for decades, and there are notable Democratic politicians with South Asian ancestry such as Kamala Harris and Pramila Jayapal. But more recently, several Indian Americans have risen to prominence under an anti-Black, anti-immigrant, far-right agenda (much to the mortification and embarrassment of their progressive counterparts who have set up a Desi Wall of Shame): Dinesh D’Souza, Nikki Haley, Ajit Pai, Raj Shah, Seema Verma, Dimple Shah, and Shalli Kumar.

The history of affinities and tensions between Black and Indian communities in America, as well as how White conservatives and liberals have exploited Indian immigrants over the last few decades to justify and produce further discrimination against Black communities, sets the foundation for Ishmael Reed’s ingenious, razor-sharp, seriocomic novel Conjugating Hindi, published by Dalkey Archive Press. Like other Reed novels, Conjugating Hindi is not only a novel, but is also a graphic novel, heavily illustrated with provocative hand-drawn cartoons. In the novel, you can see the aforementioned history upended and satirized for the Trump era.

***

“California is still the world’s biggest hideout,” the novel begins. Peter Bowman, or “Boa,” is a Black professional who is fleeing something from his past. He moves to North Oakland, where he teaches at a community college and explores the gentrified city. After taking an early retirement, Boa becomes a public intellectual and is invited to debate with a right-wing Hindu “intellectual” egomaniac Shashi Paramara on the subject of “Was Slavery All That Bad?” The Columbia Speakers Bureau tells him: “There’s an opportunity for you to make some more money. You’ll be able to break out of the Black History Month ghetto.” Boa mentally notes that the event, like Oakland, was being “gentrified” by non-Black people. Facing a tax audit, Boa needs the money offered for the debates, and reluctantly participates. Shashi argues that slavery wasn’t that bad, and is received with open arms and adulation by self-serving White right-wingers. Boa argues the opposite, standing in as a kind of straw man, and is ignored by Shashi, as well as the rest of the audience.

Shashi has a radical sister, Kala, a professor of Post-Colonialist Studies, with ink-black skin and who doesn’t fit in with her Brahmin family. She believes English is an imperialist language and demands that only Hindi be spoken in India. Boa is immediately intrigued, but his young Black chauffeur warns him off: “Indians can be as racist toward Black people as Whites. Some have called them the most racist people in the world. Not only do they hate Blacks but they have problems with the darker members of their own families. You got mobs beating African students…”

Boa worries, “A new bunch of racists coming into the country adding to the ones who are already here?” The chauffeur tells him that to Shashi and his Brahmin entourage, “[Y]ou’re a Dalit. An Untouchable.” Boa assumes this is ridiculous, citing Gandhi, but this gets him thinking, and he goes down the rabbit hole of learning Hindi (hence, the title) and exploring literature about South Asia.

Political tensions escalate. Eventually during one debate, the moderator announces that India just shot down an American passenger plane. The conservatives who had been nodding along with Shashi call him an Indian N-word and try to beat him up. He’s rescued by security. Meanwhile, Boa is rescued by Kala, who pulls up on a Harley and drives him home before heading off to her host’s home in the Berkeley Hills (her host is a Black woman whose best-selling memoir is entitled My Triple Oppression). Before she leaves, Boa asks how the mob missed her, and she responds that White Americans are always mixing her up with a Black person, that being Black doesn’t work in India, but in the United States it comes in handy for her. Boa is baffled.

The plane incident triggers all-too-believable xenophobic and racist mayhem. Indians wearing traditional clothing are dragged off BART. Indians bus from Silicon Valley to the San Jose airport and face racist insults. Mobs start hunting Indians. A Fugitive Indian Law is debated in Congress. Shashi comes to Boa, asking to hide out in his place, dressed like a “hip-hopper” in order to avoid being harassed. Boa agrees to let him stay, a shrewd callback to how South Asian peddlers sought and received refuge with Black and Puerto Rican communities in the 19th century.

The novel goes heavy into informal debate at this juncture, with Boa eventually confronting Shashi on his anti-Blackness (which Boa comes to recognize also as a kind of self-loathing and determined refusal to face facts regarding the British Empire). In his satirical rendition of the informal debates between Shashi and Boa, Reed nails the Dinesh D’Souzian failure to comprehend basic historical facts about both America and India. He sketches Shashi as both a naïve innocent and opportunist. The novel turns at points into a graphic sex comedy, with sex itself as another kind of border crossing — for really, how else could Boa communicate deeply with someone as obtuse as Shashi? The debates and sex comedy give rise to action, and then to tragic climax. The denouement genuinely satisfies.

In a reprisal of Reed’s Blues City: A Walk in Oakland, former mayor Jerry Brown is given a tongue-lashing in Conjugating Hindi for the “ethnic cleansing” and gentrification of Oakland that he believes has transformed it into a “hipster playground.” This serves as a symbol for the gentrification of Black History Month as well. The novel is more descriptive than Mumbo Jumbo, not only of Oakland scenes, but also of Boa’s internal landscape, which is shaped by academic texts and movies. Blended into factual material are fictions — the president at the time of the novel is “Kleiner Fuhrer,” for instance. In the kind of self-referential and darkly hilarious note also found in brilliant novelist Percival Everett’s work, Ishmael Reed himself makes appearances as a character throughout the novel. Also appearing is Chappie Puttbutt — Reed’s fictional Black literary critic who sides with whomever he can to get tenure in Reed’s 1993 novel Japanese by Spring (one of Chappie’s books is entitled What If I Prefer Beethoven Over Coltrane?).

***

Conjugating Hindi is a further exploration of Reed’s alternative Black aesthetic of Neo-HooDoo, informed by bricolage and jazz improvisation. It is not quite as poetic or gnostic as Reed’s 1972 masterpiece Mumbo Jumbo, but it is brilliant — the same sort of experimental brilliance observable in the fiction of Thomas Pynchon or the cut-up technique of William S. Burroughs — and more accessible. It hews to the satiric register of Reed’s Japanese By Spring and Juice.

The novel is what some academics have dubbed a trickster text, a text informed by the mischievous, shape-shifting, slippery figure of the trickster, found in folklore throughout the world. Implicit in Reed’s formal style, as well as his content, is the trickster disregard for caste of any kind. Heedless of boundaries and resistant to being pinned down or hemmed in, the novel is driven almost entirely by Reed’s deep, free-wheeling curiosity about why things are the way they are in regard to the use of the model minority myth against Black communities.

Reed’s incorporation of caste into the fictional debate between Boa and Shashi is fascinating and insightful — he understands the rigidity and cruelty of the caste system far better than many American writers and critics, who assume caste is a relic of the past or synonymous with class, rather than something far more insidious. This remains a set identity that a Hindu possesses from birth, describing his degree of “purity” or “pollution,” and consequently his entitlement to respect, as well as a script for social relations, including arranged marriages. There are moments where Reed brings his exploration of caste and race together in a way that felt a touch too pat, binding together a little too neatly anti-Blackness with the Brahmin identity of Indian immigrants assimilating into the far right. Hinduism can be fairly described as heterogeneous and protean and it does have trickster-like figures such as Krishna or the mohini, but the Brahminical mindset is a strongly anti-trickster perspective, and so those with this mindset could find equally appealing certain strains of center-left thought that push rigid identity, scripted social relations, and endogamy. In any case, by novel’s end, Reed’s novel surprises and delights and for the most part, he takes every opportunity to be artistically more subversive, more slant, more true.

The most famous Dalit intellectual of all time, B. R. Ambedkar wrote in The Untouchables,

It must be recognized that the selfish interest of a person or of the class to which he belongs always acts as an internal limitation which regulates the direction of his intellect. […] A Voltaire among the Brahmins would be a positive danger to the maintenance of a civilisation which is contrived to maintain Brahmanic supremacy. […] If any non-Brahmin were to make such an attempt the Brahmin scholars would engage in a conspiracy of silence, take no notice of him, condemn him outright on some flimsy grounds or dub his work useless.

This is an observation that holds true in the Indian-American diaspora, too. So far, nobody in the United States is publishing any Voltaire-like satires of caste and race by a Dalit American or a non-Brahmin Indian American, but this bold and memorable novel by a brilliant Black author is the next best thing.

Conjugating Hindi is a firebrand’s novel, the crackling, overflowing, pugnacious novel of someone who doesn’t care about genre boundaries any more than he cares about historical boundaries, but who does care deeply about innovating. In an interview with Callaloo that was conducted in 1988 at Reed’s home, Reed commented:

Well, Afro-American artists have always had to struggle against the middle-class. […] I mean when you write the truth, sometimes the black middle class complains or the white right wing will complain or the left wing will complain. […] I think most Afro-American artists catch it from all sides. I think most ethnic artists catch it from all sides.

As the United States’s ideals come under increasing attack, we need more flame-throwers like septuagenarian Ishmael Reed — more fighters, more tricksters, more eagle-eyed observers with an incendiary spirit, more dazzlingly original artist-writers — willing to defy what is permissible to say, willing to catch it on all sides, and willing to run over boundaries of all kinds into genuinely new or neglected territory.

[kisarastrife]

On the topic of headcanons, what are some of your ones for Vivian. Your writing makes her sparkle, you've really given her a life of her own.

Hmmmm … now there’s a question and a half.

Vivian was a character in Yu-Gi-Oh! that just appealed to me and I don’t know why. Given the bit of her we see in-anime, she’s not exactly the most likable character. She’s self-centered, egotistic, an out-and-out fangirl, obsessed and spoiled as fuck.

I don’t know why, but I love her.

She’s easy to write, she’s selfish as hell, but you know what? She is selfish and spoiled but still a good person. She’s a foil of sorts to Kisara that is needed to ground Kisara’s character as credible. The Kisara I write in Paper Roses has had the privilege of money her entire life. Anything she may have wanted was attained. She has always had a lot of money surrounding her despite her troubled upbringing. Anything Kisara might have wanted to purchase, well it was bought.

I think I touch on it a bit in Paper Roses, where we see Kisara becoming aware of Mokuba’s school and earlier still - where we see here not even think twice about dropping a lump sum for the silver chain she gets Seto as a Christmas present.

Vivian was raised in similar circumstances; she was the only child of a well-off family of jewelers. Anything she has ever coveted or wanted to do, Vivian had been giving that opportunity. And yet she still retains an awareness of the value of money … something Kisara lacks to a certain extent. So, as much as Vivian is spoiled by her parents, she is still a reality check for Kisara.

So, to actually answer your question, here are some headcanons I have for Viv in Paper Roses:

- Viv is an utter and complete flirt.

- She is very stylish; name the newest hot designer and she already has a wardrobe of their line.

- Vivian still has a massive crush on Kaiba. At one point (mentioned in-anime) Viv had a huge crush on both Yugi and Kaiba, even going so far as to imagine she would marry Kaiba.

- Vivian is surprisingly vulnerable when she gets into a relationship.

- She was engaged to be married before, something she will tell Kisara eventually. But  the man wasn’t at ease with how ‘flighty’ Vivian was. She’s a country-hopper; Viv loves to travel, She is capable of setting foot in five different countries in a week. She just lives for planes and travelling and seeing new cities. She will eventually tell Kisara about that past-engagement.

- Vivian is a serial-reality-star-dater. If someone has been in a reality show, odds are Viv has dated them or somehow made contact.

- She has actually fallen very hard for the side character of Toshi. The aspect he is quiet and keeps to himself is boggling for her. The fact he has been married and has a daughter is completely foreign and new to Vivian. It’s a stepping stone for her ans he has to grow up.

- Vivian has a detachment from kids because she feels she’s not suitable to deal with them. This stems from her being the only child of China’s one-child-policy and not having dealt with any young cousins or siblings. It’s easier to think of children as complicated beings she can’t interact/deal with. A few visits with Toshi’s daughter and she softens bit-by-bot.

- Not mentioned in-fic as of yet, but plotted. But I feel I need to write a disclaimer; this may not make it into the main story. Viv can’t have kids. She and Toshi cannot conceive naturally.

- Viv is the equivalent of Kisara’s moral compass. When Kisara has a hissy-fit and other shit goes down (that I can’t elaborate on just yet) Vivian is the voice of reason.

[riting]

SOMETHINNNGISALWAYSSSSWRONGGGG by Barnett Cohen

Hannah Spears on SOMETHINNNGISALWAYSSSSWRONGGGG

A woman stands in the center of a rapt audience, emitting a single, high-pitched note that erupts into a shriek. Another note crescendos and fades. Then a gasp. She’s just finished describing her mundane nightly ritual and “the voice”—a familiar voice, one with a personalized ringtone—that had interrupted it. Signaling an abrupt, unnamed calamity, this shriek is also perhaps what best encapsulates the overall sentiment of Cohen’s latest performance piece.

Written entirely in verse, Cohen’s script peaks and plummets, its darkest moments met with absurd humor. Tirades culminating in outbursts precede restrained, matter-of-fact statements. As if scrolling through a news feed, topics like environmental degradation and police brutality filter in and out. One performer wonders, passively, “Where do all the plastic bins painted with peanut butter end up? Is that smog in the distance coating my lungs from afar?”

Cohen dramatizes the latent horror of the national news cycle. Three of the five performers wear jumpsuits in different shades of red—not exactly prison uniforms, but close enough. The remaining two are in white hoodies that, combined with their pallor, intense stares, and Lynchian vocal distortions, suggest straight jackets. The lighting—a sickly, yellow-green—turns the whole space into an asylum.

This is the American dream turned nightmare—the sinister underbelly of what was once superficially bright, like the shiny, all-white baby grand piano that serves as the production’s only prop. Like the parts of its score that are pleasant and melodic before dropping off a cliff. Cohen’s piece portrays with palpable fatalism the gradual unraveling of what one performer can only describe as “whatever the fuck this is.”

Hannah Spears is a curator based in Los Angeles.

Asha Bukojemsky on SOMETHINNNGISALWAYSSSSWRONGGGG

“A story should have a beginning, a middle, and an end, but not necessarily in that order.”

Jean-Luc Godard

When I first experienced Barnett Cohen’s SOMETHINNNGISALWAYSSSSWRONGGGG during an intimate dress rehearsal, I was reminded of Godard’s quotation and the Dennis Hopper film that captured its sentiment. In The Last Movie (Hopper, 1971), the film’s narrative order is intentionally scrambled so one has to piece it together. In doing so, the film becomes a commentary on Hollywood, American influence, capitalism, and nostalgia. Like that film, SOMETHINNNGISALWAYSSSSWRONGGGG had me working to make sense of the characters and plot.

When I saw the piece in its final form I realized my desire to make sense was preventing me from experiencing SOMETHINNNGISALWAYSSSSWRONGGGG for what it really was: a performance. The actors were so talented and intensely engaged that I could let go of making sense and just take it in; fragments about love, fear, and the things we know but cannot name. Elusive and funny, the language was nostalgic, with old-fashioned words sprinkled amongst contemporary sentiments. SMS and Shakespeare. One performer exclaimed, “who goes there?!”, while another described a “beachy vacay” attended by handsome waiters—in a language not their own—before anxiously describing that something was “afoot”. Echoing formal theatrical roots, the piece was firmly planted in contemporary malaise.

There were moments when I wondered if the performers were still acting, or if I was meant to participate. Greek tragedy mixed with Beckett and Bausch. One of my favorite parts—a highly stylized, new age Greek Chorus—mirrored the incessant chatter of our own brains. The piece felt honest in not trying to make sense of our disordered, fluctuating lives: allowing anxieties of disconnectedness, earthquakes, guns, the fear of missing out and not doing enough, facing colonial pasts, race privilege and flawed history, dying alone.

Reveling in its own existential crisis, SOMETHINNNGISALWAYSSSSWRONGGGG was as much about living in today’s fucked up world as about the attempt to produce art within it. Like The Last Movie, the anxious state that produced it became its final form. The stylized presentation—saturated yellow lighting, red jumpsuits, white grids on the floors—all felt symbolic until it became apparent that it was only my wanting to make it so. Being lost, anxious and out of order was what the work was about.

Asha Bukojemsky is a Canadian / American independent curator and writer based in Los Angeles.

SOMETHINNNGISALWAYSSSSWRONGGGG happened at JOAN on November 22 & 23, 2019. It was created by Barnett Cohen in collaboration with performers Deja Bowen, Elisa Noemi, Danielle Swords, Bree Wernicke, and Roksana Zeinapur. The score was composed and performed by Daniel Bruinooge. Styling by Jenni Lee. Make up by Hayley Farrington. Technical Direction by McKenna Warde.

Barnett Cohen is an artist based in Los Angeles. He makes performances and paintings.

Photos courtesy of Barnett Cohen.

[10000shamans]

Stearmans were the planes of choice by crop duster companies in the Fifties, Sixties and Seventies. Many were made during WW2 to use as military trainers. The Stearman's were lightweight, Inexpensive to purchase and maintain, and had easy maneuverability. Near my family's farm was Precissi's Flying Service. Four Precissi brothers (Lou, Augie, Joe, and Frank) established the Precissi Flying Service in 1945. Crop dusters are mainly used to apply sulfur, a fungicide that helps control powdery mildew and pests on Tokay grapes, popular table grapes before the Thompson seedless variety. They are also used to dust tomatoes, potatoes, corn, and sugar beets – most of these being common crops in the 1950s. When loaded, the Stearman carries a payload of about 1,000 pounds. As the plane flies over the ag fields, the sulphur is air driven through the distributor on the bottom of the plane directly onto the fields. A glass window in the front of the cockpit allows the pilot to monitor the amount of material left in the hopper. A flagger stands at the end of the field and is responsible for calling each pass that the pilot makes, working with the pilot to coordinate the exact placement Together, the flagger and pilot take great care to avoid unwanted drift onto irrigation channels or adjacent properties and to protect any people in the vicinity. Our farm is in the flight line of Precissi's landing strip. This means that the planes are always flying over the farm before banking to the right to lineup for the landing. We know one of the pilots whose name is John Roche. We can hear the planes coming closer to the farm. As the planes fly over towards the landing strip we wave at each one. If one of the pilots is John he waggles his wings to let us know it is him. This is the COOLEST experience and feeling in the world. I've had the privilege to fly in Stearmans in Southern California as a passenger and briefly as a pilot. This plane is the one I fly in. The pilot is the planes pilot and, briefly, my instructor. We fly out of Hawthorn and reach an altitude of 4000' as we head out over the ocean. We then begin to play. Aerobatics include loops and falling leafs. Over the Pacific near Rancho Palos Verdes, I ask the pilot if he could mimic a crop duster dusting a field. Immediately he throws the plane into a steep dive. (Dusters had to do this in order to miss telephone poles and power lines and give the field a maximum dusting). The pilot then pulls out of the dive at about 40 feet off the water and we skim along at this low altitude for 30 seconds. Then he pulls up into a steep climb, banks tightly to the left, goes into another steep dive and pulls out of the dive again at 40 feet. Awesome! I get to fly his Stearman over Long Beach. Nervous, I grab the stick and ask him to do the same. After 30 seconds I have the feel of the plane and ask him to let go. It amazes me how intuitive one become once they get the feel of the plane and how the airflow works with the planes design and dynamics. I fly solo for 2-3 minutes working this way, adapting with my hands firm on the stick when I feel the need to. The toughest challenge for any Stearman and planes of similar design is the landing. Because of the wheel carriage, the plane, when on the ground, points out at a slight angle. This is fine when the plane takes off as it helps with the lift. That is the same reason it is challenging to land. The pilot has to bring in the plane "heavy". He/she also have to view the runway out from the sides of the plane as the its angle will not allow a frontal view. This was the only part of the flight where I feel the pilots "tension" and really experience him taking control of the plane. We land safely. Back to the hangar we go, taking pictures once we were out of the plane. Later I had the performance poet Jacqueline Suskin write him a poem about fliers and Stearman's. He was overjoyed on receiving it, reveling in it with the spirit of a little boy.