We don’t have to figure out anything tonight. We don’t have to decide anything, but, um… That’s not true. There’s one thing I would like to decide tonight.
Duffer Brothers managed to fuck up this show so bad that people genuinely believe the finale was a fake out and that they will have a secret episode 9 which will change everything.
If i was the writers of this show id kill myself knowing i let people down enough to the point of delusion
WHAT IS THIS THING GOING AROUND????? CONFORMITYGATE???? I FEEL LIKE JOYCE IN SEASON 1 IM PROBABLY JUST PSICOLOGICALLY WEAK AND SLEEP DEPRIVED BUT LIKE?????
I love that conformitygate is either our most brilliant fan theory to date or an exhibition of how badly the Duffers fucked up their own show.
Because imagine ending a show in a way that is so the opposite of what the show is supposed to be about that fans decide it must be an elaborate scheme concocted by the show's villain.
Joyce Byers kidnapping a child of right wing people and transforming him from a bully to a delightful hero that goes against the military in just a few hours is exactly the communist agenda
I don't know... we could meet up. Once a month, here. Yeah, or maybe somewhere just more neutral. Like... what's a city between Hawkins, and Massachusetts, New York? Louisville. Uh, Philly. Philly.
Will found Hopper sitting out on the cabin’s small porch. It wasn’t hard to spot him; he took up about a third of it. They didn’t spend a lot of time together, but if he was surprised to have Will seek him out he didn’t show it, just nodded and turned back to his cigarette.
“You okay, Hop?”
He raised an eyebrow and Will continued, taking a seat on the cabin’s uneven steps.
“Mom was kinda on a tear about the dishes earlier.”
Hopper huffed a laugh.
“If your mom wasn’t bitching at me about something or other I wouldn’t know what to do with myself,” he said. He took another drag and Will watched the smoke fill the air as he let it out. “Anyway, it wasn’t about the dishes.”
Will nodded and looked away, swallowing back the tightness in his throat. El’s absence haunted them all in different ways.
“How’re you doin’ with all this?”
Will shot a look at Hopper.
“With what?”
Hopper waved a hand at the cabin, the cars filling up the makeshift driveway, himself.
“I know you’re on a countdown to graduation and getting the hell out of Hawkins,” Hopper said, “but still. Can’t be easy.”
“Oh,” said Will. Was that all. “It’s not bad.”
Hopper snorted.
“No really,” Will said, “it’s not. I mean it’s crowded and the cabin’s still pretty rough, but it doesn’t smell as bad as Mike’s basement, and you being here- it’s like a gift.”
Will risked a glance at Hopper who looked more confused than anything.
“A gift? I’ve been called a lot of things, kid, never a gift.”
Will flushed.
“It’s like, I mean…when El was with us in California, she-” Will’s throat seized up again, but he pushed through, not sure how much more he could get out if he hesitated - “she loved having a mom.”
Hopper’s face flickered with pain and Will forced himself not to look away as he continued.
“She loved having a mom,” Will said again, “and she was so grateful. She was always thanking me and Jonathan for sharing our mom with her and she, she missed you so much and I think…I think she would have been happy that this time she was sharing something with us.”
Hopper coughed and cleared his throat, stubbing out his cigarette and making a whole production out of lighting another one. Will looked away, studying the trees as he gave Hopper a moment.
“You and your brother, and Joyce,” Hopper said at last, voice muffled with what Will had to assume were tears (he still couldn’t bring himself to look), “you’re the real, you’re-”
Hopper tried to get the words out and then he was crying and Will was going to shrivel into dust.
“Are you trying to say that we’re the gift?” he asked finally.
“Jesus,” Hopper muttered, running a hand across his face. He cleared his throat. “Yeah. That’s what I’m trying to say.”
Will tried to bite back a laugh, but it spilled out anyway.
“Please stop, that's so embarrassing.”
“Shut up, kid,” Hopper said, but he was laughing too. “You started it.”
Joyce found them on the porch a moment later, still laughing at each other, at themselves.
“Everyone okay out here?”
Will heard the tired edge in her voice, the one that said she’d been crying. Their laughter faded and Will took her hand, pulling her down to join him on the steps.
“Yeah mom,” Will said. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and glanced over at Hopper who gave him a half smile as took another drag of his cigarette. “We’re okay.”
I dropped out. I took a job at The Herald. Which... it sounds fancier like that. It's a trainee position, but I don't know, I was just sick of school and thought maybe I'd get out there and try the real world.
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