pyschologicalrocketgirl - Tumblr blog

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deadbeat tumblr mutual

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Tawanda Mulalu, “All We Got Was Autumn. All We Got Was Winter.” in Please Make Me Pretty, I Don’t Want to Die

[pyschologicalrocketgirl]

an incredibly overdue post, but i'll be shifting away from being a stranger things/byler blog. my writing will still be up, and i may return to it in the future, but for right now, i'll be using this to reblog general poems and exploring different fandoms.

[pyschologicalrocketgirl]

kinder than man, athea davis

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Jihyun Yun, from Some Are Always Hungry; “The Leaving Season”

[Text ID: “It’s strange / to know this world I loved, / loves me most / dismembered.”]

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a new badge called “girlblogging” unlocked by writing the hundredth 0 note post of the day

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Hopper season one voice. Uhhhh lemme be clear. We will never search. For lil homie gay ass

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Richard Siken Driving, not Washing

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[pyschologicalrocketgirl]

The strategic writing that essentially Mike didn't have trouble saying "I love you", he had trouble saying "I love you too" is so fascinating to me. Because that is something else entirely. He apologized for not being able to say "I love you" and that's great. But that was the plot of season 3. The plot of season 4 was not being able to say "I love you too".

When I put it that way, actually, it makes a lot of sense for his oh moment to start with what we see on his face after she says it back. He likely BELIEVED that the reason he couldn't say it to her was because he was scared she wouldn't say it back. And he hid under that excuse. And then she said it back. And he STILL couldn't. Hence the stage direction "What is wrong with me?"

He never had that thought before despite having struggled with it because "Why can't you say I love you first?" is a question with a perfectly simple, perfectly heterosexual, perfectly easily accessible heterosexual answer. It's easy to hide behind. "Why can't I say I love you back?" though, is a far more complicated one, and far harder to escape.

And because the answer isn't easy, El can't see it either. He is far more visible in the second question. Far more exposed.

[pyschologicalrocketgirl]

Do not blame me for who I am. The doctor prescribed me 20 mL of #older byler twice a day.

[pyschologicalrocketgirl]

“Everyone You've Loved,” Susannah Irene

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[pyschologicalrocketgirl]

... mike whe- [GUNSHOTS]

[pyschologicalrocketgirl]

Mike "Home is not home without you" Wheeler and Will "Every time I imagine the future you are there with me" Byers

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Everyone look at him

[pyschologicalrocketgirl]

Will and Mike holding hands when they were younger because they were each other’s playground buddy. Will and Mike holding hands until one of them pulls away, looks around and makes the call that it’s too childish to do that, too weird for a reason they cant place, Will only just starting to notice that the whispering from adults, the names he doesn’t quite understand yet, are directed towards him. Will and Mike brushing hands at the movies or passing food to each other that summer in ‘85, where neither know who’s hand inched closer but both moving away like they’d been burned. Will and Mike in the spring of ‘86, in the van where the space is so cramped but every inch between them feels like a galaxy apart, and there’s an unplaced pit in the stomach, an electric brush of the fingers, the passing of a painting, digging the hole deeper as a bandaid rips in two. Mike and Will, moments before Will goes down to the Upside Down, Mike’s death grip on Will’s hand, knowing he can’t ask Will not to go, but making him promise he’ll come back alive. Will and Mike after it’s all over, making eye contact from across the way and giving each other a soul crushing hug, neither of them commenting on the way Mike has his fingers wrapped around Will’s hands, that are still shaking. Mike and Will in Mike’s basement playing video games, just the two of them, something built between them for months, for longer, finally spilled over when they graze pinkies, when Mike’s hand hovers over so they’re palm to palm against the couch, and Will turns his hand over tentatively to interlock their fingers. When there’s a beat of silence as they look at each other, searching for assurance and holding back smiles as they half-heartedly try and get back to the game, unwilling to lodge their hands away from each other. When the only thing separating them now is the place where their knuckles and wrists meet, and only there. When they’ve found their way back home to each other after they’ve learned how unbearable it is to live without the other.