#im frozen

[movietimegirl]

HOLY FUCK! WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT!!!?

AND MAGNETO WAS GETTING PTSD OF THE HOLOCAUST AND...I DON'T KNOWN WHAT TO SAY.

[autisticthings]

in severe panic mode and meltdown and nonverbal but I have nobody to comfort me so I'm telling the void of Tumblr lmao

[unconsciously-corrupt]

Fuck it's cold today.. please send warmth

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

Just found out my best friend and my ex girlfriend are hooking up. Currently not talking to my best friend. Called my ex girlfriend for the first time since we broke up without thinking first and ended up just crying. I've never felt more betrayed in my life.

[remus-save-me]

🧍‍♀️

[adorablyfemme]

hmmm :))

[aqua-regia009]

Monastery Garden in Snow, c.1829 - oil on canvas ― Karl Friedrich Lessing (German, 1808-1880)

[summerlight1112]

Save me russian edition moshang... save me.....

[amazingferret]

You saw some electronic pet at the back of the second hand store covered in dust?

You felt sorry for it because "aww, it looks so lonely, I should take it home?"

STOP ✋ DON'T BUY IT‼️

[strangertheories]

I really despise the Marvelification of Stranger Things, because all the interviews nowadays are constantly referencing how fast paced and epic and big the finale will be but the reason people fell in love with the show wasn't special effects or long episodes; it was the plot, it was the characters, it was the mystery. Stranger Things 1 may have been a story about a government conspiracy and a monster, but that's not why we stuck around. The show can throw amazing CGI, Russians, a battle within the American army and an apocalypse at the audience with the biggest budget known to man but if they forget to ground it and keep it central, it'll just get lost amongst a plethora of other "epic" blockbusters. We want Steven King, not Avengers.

[yuneu]

it fucken WIMDY

[lucabyte]

So does anybody else ever think about how Loop felt the need to demonstrate that the party's deaths wouldn't have any effect on the loops. I know I do but that's besides the point. Anyway I don't think Loop actually needs to bathe, they just like to feel included.

[nakajimaas]

everybody moved on but i stayed here

[inkskinned]

she says he won't let her get a dog, which is fine, because they're in an apartment, and that's the kind of thing people say about their partners. he won't let me get a dog. and you're at a dinner party and you tilt your head a little to the side just like that dog he won't let her get, because is this the thing that's going to upset you? you don't know every corner of their relationship, she could be joking, they could have had so many healthy conversations about the dog, right, and maybe she's not letting herself get the dog because of money and time and whatever. but, like, she did say let

and she wants to move away from his hometown and he wants to stay and then he tells you with a wink and a conspiratorial stage whisper don't worry i'll convince her and she laughs about it - so clearly this is something they laugh about. but you do just stand there and stare at him like what the fuck, man. you can't say what you want to say which is why do you get the final say on everything because they're both obviously aware of the other person's stance on this and have obviously had private conversations about it and what are you going to do about it except make a scene and then he'll be mad at you and call you one of those bitches behind your back and she'll cut you off, which is a loss that doesn't feel worth it just because he makes you a little skeeved out every 3rd comment

and they both agree he just isn't the type to get flowers which is fine because everyone shows love differently, and are you really gonna judge someone based on their sense of individual relationship responsibility? maybe he's constantly cleaning her car and writing her poems and making her furniture or something. maybe she doesn't even like flowers and this is perfect, actually. and no you couldn't date him, obviously, ew; but like, she tells you she's happy. you almost send her a tiktok that says don't be 25 and the cool girl that doesn't need anything, you'll hate not getting flowers at 30, but that's like, starting drama & you shouldn't start drama needlessly.

and you're a little older than her but not so much older you can pull the whole trust me on this one babe thing and besides that wouldn't have worked anyway (when does it ever) and besides you have trauma so you and your therapist both agree that you're always looking for a problem even when there isn't one. and you tell yourself that just because you see them for 15 minutes every month does not mean you can identify every single red flag based on a single shitty half-joking(?) comment

and besides, what are you going to do? she says i actually wanted another stand mixer but thankfully he stops me when i'm about to spend too much money and you're standing there like are you okay? is this normal? is this just something people say? and again - what are you going to do?

to your therapist you try to language it - it's not, like, any of my business. but sometimes, doesn't it feel like - you should do something. there's got to be something, right? you've tried dropping little hints but they sail right through and you've tried having a single serious conversation and she got upset because why does it matter to you, yes it's different but we're happy, it doesn't need to make sense to you and you're like. really unwilling to push a boundary about it anymore; because the truth is that you know logically it shouldn't matter to you, as long as both parties are happy.

and besides, you've been wrong before. it's just... like, every time you see them both, something else happens, some kind of shiver down your spine like do you even hear each other when you talk. it's their strange, bickering orbit. just the way he's on his phone through dinner or watching sports instead of helping in the kitchen or, fuck, another one of these little throwaway comments he makes about we'll see about that, babe. she laughs when he calls her passions stupid shit and meanwhile she gets him tickets to see the knicks and he tells you well at least she's smart about something and still! it's none of your business.

you say get the dog anyway and she laughs. like, this is is you being funny. and not you saying - no really. get the dog. get the dog and get out of here. pack up and start running.

[linterteatime]

Like a deer caught in headlights

[shushmal]

Eddie shakes the foundations of Steve's world on a Sunday evening, at 6:44 p.m.

Steve knows the exact moment because he's standing at the stove, stirring pasta sauce and watching the time to make sure the garlic bread in the oven doesn't burn. It's June and it's hot, and they've got all the windows thrown open to let in a cool breeze. Eddie's sitting at the little kitchen table, probably messing with his D&D game notes, Steve would guess because he's focused on making dinner so it's ready when Wayne gets back from his shift. The three of them will eat together tonight, like they have Sundays past since April, a new little tradition that Steve's always craved to be a part of.

Except, when he turns, after Eddie speaks, he finds Eddie leaned back in his chair, like he's been watching Steve the entire time.

But before that, Eddie says, "I'm in love with you."

Steve stops stirring. The numbers on the stove tell him that it's 6:44 p.m. If he looks, the calendar would tell him it's a Sunday in June. And Eddie just told Steve that he was in love with him.

The numbers change—6:45 p.m.

Slowly, like he's moving through water, Steve turns, looks at Eddie over his shoulder, finds him leaned back, watching, smiling soft and wistful. Steve turns a little more, looking closer.

Has anyone ever looked at Steve like that before?

Eddie's eyes are bright, round and relaxed, as he gazes at Steve, those pretty lips curled up just right, a happy little smile. He doesn't say anything, even though there's only silence between them now. The sauce on the stove simmers, bubbles rising through the thickness to pop in shushed bursts. Steve drops his spoon.

"What?" he asks, turning further now. Steve's bread is going to burn under the broiler and his sauce is going to be scorched if he doesn't focus. He doesn't know what time it is anymore.

"I'm in love with you," Eddie says, again. That smile grows a little more. "I'm so in love with you, Steve Harrington."

And Steve is good at moving on instinct, good at chasing the ball down, good at finding himself in the right spot to make the right decision. He moves now, floats across the little kitchen, until he's in front of Eddie, leaning down, breathing his air, tasting his lips—

Their dinner burns.