it gets a little easier.

𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝓇𝑒 𝒶𝓈𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓂𝓎 𝒽𝑒𝓁𝓅? 𝓰𝓸 𝓽𝓸 𝓱𝓮𝓵𝓵.

[dramacliche-deactivated20190824]

          𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚  &  𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙖𝙩𝙚  𝙧𝙤𝙗𝙞𝙣  𝙗𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙡𝙚𝙮  𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢  𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧  𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨.

[lightsleft-blog]

richmisery‌:

                                Small    towns    are    HELL,    exhausting.    It’s    got    him    leaning    back    into    the    brick    wall,    the    back    of    his    head    resting    against    the    building    as    hues    FLUTTER    shut    with    an    annoyed    crease    on    his    features.    It’s    a    moment    till    he    feels    the    aura    of    someone    else    with    him,    eyes    sliding    over    to    fixate    on    the    taller    lady,     brows    quirking    at    her    question    / STATEMENT. 

                   Attention    turned    back    to    the    cigarette,    he    allows    fingers    to    delicately    tap    off    the    smoldering   flakes,    watching    as    the    blood    continues    to    seep    from    busted    knuckles,    a    cause    from    a   FIGHT    TURNED    SOUR. Thankfully    his    nose    had    stopped    bleeding,    though    at    this    point    his    hands   were    persistent    to    make    it    known    to    ANYONE    to    cast    a    scoring    look    that    he    had    FOUGHT    &&    WON      !

                             “   Huh.    Yeah…    I’m    good.    It’s    jus’    a    scratch.     Ain’t    nothing    to    bad.    Thank    you    for    th’    offer    of    them    though.     ”    A    nod    punctuates    the    phrase    that    leaves    in    a   noise    akin    to    a    mumble. 

she can't help but just feel a little invasive. it really is none of her business. it's not like jonathan or will came home with scraped knuckles and a bloody nose, but joyce, over the past few years, has decided that there's nothing to be done besides admit to herself that she cares about other people more than she likes to admit. and that's okay. it's nothing to be ashamed of.

she may not admit it to their face always, but it's still a core part of who she is.

joyce frowns a little to herself. " doesn't look like just a scratch to me, " she points out. some kids love to downplay injuries, as if it makes them look tough, but in the end, she doesn't have time for that kind of thing. " looks like something that needs some bandages. maybe some neosporin. it'll only take a minute or two. ” she's tempted to give him a discount if she can think up a half-decent reason, if money's the issue.

[lightsleft-blog]

batsittter‌:

he raises his eyebrows, but he feels his lips slip down from a put-on, too-bright tease and smirk to something genuine and warm and happy.  happy…  this is what happy feels like.  it’s been awhile.  he takes a step away from the car, arms crossed over his chest.  the new scar through his lips makes his smile a little crooked, but hey  —  robin says it looks cool. 

“ really?  a beer? ”   now that he’s not alone in his parents’ house, now that he’s on his own, all nineteen years of him, there’s no ready access to alcohol:  free from money or i.d. requirements from the state of indiana.  shit, he could use something to buzz him up and settle his nerves.  he takes another step towards the byers house  —  can he still call it that, even after they move?  he’s stood here, right here, lots of times.  he likes the warmth here now  —  likes it much better than the cold of fear or rush of pain from all those other times. 

“ yeah!  i mean…  yeah.  yeah, that sounds…  really good, actually. ”   it’s the final push he needs, and he slowly finishes the trip back into the house at mrs. byers’s invitation. 

have mom or dad ever asked me to do something like this?  he doesn’t think so. 

she can tell that steve's good at fake smiles. there were kids she knew in high school, who are adults and professionals and parents now, who could smile the same way, and sometimes they still do it. it sort of hurts, though, to see someone as young as him be quite as good at it. and it's good to see him give her a genuine smile, one that's more open and less performative. fake smiles get you through a lot of things, but the problem arises when they become too real.

" yeah. not a great one or anything, but coors are okay. ” like an admission with a little flicker of a smile. sure, she has beers, but they're not anything special. just whatever she bought and kept out of the hands of her sons. it's validating to see steve finally shuffle a little closer, and then a little closer, and then finally a steady pace. it's not a big offer. she can't offer much that he couldn't buy besides company and some conversation.

and maybe that's enough, in the end. it’s about the little things.

" here, " she says, smiling a little as she pulls the door shut behind them. “ i'll clear will's stuff off the couch and you can go grab the beers. they're on the bottom shelf in the fridge. "

[lightsleft-blog]

body language.

bold.      always   /  usually applies

italic.      only applies situationally   /   sometimes

𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜.   arms  crossed  on  chest.     crossing  legs.      fist-like  gestures.     pointing  index  finger.      karate  chops.      stiffening  of  shoulders.     tense  posture.      curling  of  lip.     baring  of  teeth.

𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎.   hand  to  face  gestures.      head  tilted.      stroking chin.      peering  over   glasses.      taking glasses  off  —  cleaning.      putting  earpiece  of  glasses  in mouth.       pipe  smoker  gestures.      putting  hand  to  the  bridge  of  nose.     pursed  lips.     knitted  brows.

𝚜𝚞𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚘𝚗.   arms  crossed.     sideways  glance.     touching  or  rubbing  nose.    rubbing  eyes.     hands  resting  on  weapon.     brows  rising.     lips  pressing  into  a  thin  line.     strict  unwavering  eye  contact.   wrinkling  of  nose.

𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 & 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗.   open  hands.     upper  body  in  sprinters  position.      sitting  on  the  edge  of  a  chair.      hand-to-face gestures.      unbuttoned  coat.      tilted  head.     slacked  shoulders.      droopy  posture.      feet  pointed  outward.      palms  flat  and  facing  outward.

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎.   hands  behind  back.     hands  on  lapels  of  coat.    steepled  hands.    baring  teeth  in  a  grin.     rolling  shoulders.      tipping  head  back  but maintaining  eye  contact.     chest  puffed  up.    shoulders  back.     arms  folded  just  above  navel.

𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚢 & 𝚊𝚗𝚡𝚒𝚎𝚝𝚢.   chewing  pen  or  pencil.      rubbing  thumb  over  opposite  thumb.      biting  fingernails.    hands  in  pockets.      elbow  bent.     closed  gestures.     clearing  throat.      “ whew ”  sound.      picking  or  pinching  flesh.     fidgeting  in  chair.     hand  covering  mouth  whilst  speaking.     poor  eye  contact.      tugging  at  pants  whilst  seated.      jingling  money  in pockets.      tugging  at  ear.     perspiring  hands.     playing  with  hair.     swaying.     playing  with  pointer or marker.      smacking  lips.      sighing.     rocking  on  balls  of  feet.   flexing  fingers  sporadically.

𝚏𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗.   short  breaths.     “ tsk ”  sounds.     tightly  clenched  hands.   fist-like  gestures.     pointing  index  finger.     running  hand  through  hair.      rubbing  back  of  neck.     snarling.        revealing  teeth.      grimacing.      sharp-eyed  glowers  with  notable  tension  in  brows.     shoulders  back  ,  head  up   -   defensive  posturing.    clenching  of  jaw.    grinding  of  teeth.    nostrils  flaring  /  heavy  exhales.

tagged by: @dramacliche tagging: whoever wants to i can’t remember urls right now lmao

[unchildhood]

ANNE CARSON

in the preface to Grief Lessons: Four Plays by Euripides (2006);

personal photos, original edit

[withextra]

THE HOUR SERIES ONE sentence meme. feel free to change context/pronouns/etc as necessary.

Next time do it yourself, I am not your secretary.

Please, the details of your love life do not interest me at all.

I do love a man who plans.

It’s everything we’ve been waiting for.

Stay and have a drink with me?

Is this some kind of joke? 

One needs to find tiny acts of rebellion where one can.

They will kill me if they know I’m talking to you.

What is it about you men? You always need a tiny corner where we can’t quite reach you.

You work twice as hard as any man and none is half as good as you.

It is true, I am asking myself why I am doing this. Especially as it is you who should be apologising to me. But that’s what you do when you believe in someone.

There’s only ever been you.

There’s only ever been you. And you’re not even that nice.

You want to be oh so independent, but you just can’t quite cut it alone.

Is that your idea of an apology? 

I want to hear you say it.

It’s all gone horribly wrong.

You did it on purpose, didn’t you?

Why are you lying to me?

You don’t like me, do you?

You know that a subscription to Marvel’s All-True Crime doesn’t make you a real detective?

Don’t send me back.

Why are you being such a child?

I see we are being watched.

Is he good-looking, do you think? Would you classify that as a good-looking face?

I won’t actually have to hold a gun, will I?

Perhaps it needs the likes of you and I to shake things up a bit.

You should have bloody cared. 

Let me come with you.

Just say if you want this.

I know you know something. Something you’re not telling me.

You don’t know what you’ve got yourself into.

I’m not here to hurt you.

I just need someone to tell me the truth.

You are jealous, aren’t you?

We might never get a week like this again.

There are no lifetime guarantees.

The only person you can really trust is yourself.

Are you in trouble?

Whatever you know, whatever you’ve seen, just forget it

May I say how exceptionally beautiful you look tonight?

Now, I know you say that to all the girls.

I like you like this. I like you even more.

Do you love him?

You’re different with him.

I hope you sleep better tonight.

How brave you are.

We’re not all as brave as you are.

I do like you very much. You’re such fun.

It’s only what anyone would have done.

I never thought your ambition would compromise your integrity.

You’ve got to grab it while you can.

I used to think the worst possible thing would be to be like you.

I can never live so lightly. It all matters too much to me.

It all matters very much to me, I just don’t let my face show that.

Why can’t we do what the hell we like? 

Well, I am going to do exactly what I like and to hell with the rest of them.

All my life, I’ve been a man of peace.

I suppose there are worse ways to go.

You patronising bastard.

Do you have any idea what you are risking here?

I’ve thought often of what a disappointment I must have been to you.

What if we left now? What if we just went? You and me.

Do you trust me?

I’d never betray you.

I hate you.

[lightsleft-blog]

dramacliche‌:

          as  soon as  mrs.  byers  spoke  to  her,  her  attention  fell  back  onto  her.     sure,  robin  wasn’t  exactly  the  best  when  it  came  to  interacting  with  adults  and  authority  figures,  but  she  knew  how  to  be  respectful  —  especially  to  joyce  byers,  who  everyone  only  spoke  highly  of.     a  simple  nod  of  her  head  as  she  moved  over  towards  the  pantry,  searching  through  the  second  shelf  as  instructed.     she  couldn’t  help  but  notice  the  cupboards  were  packed;  this  home  undoubtably  felt  relaxing  and  welcoming.     finally,  her  gaze  fell  upon  the  mix,  grabbing  it  from  the  pantry.     it  was  already  a  welcomed  change  of  pace  from  the  screaming  children  (  yes,  steve  included  ).

          ❝     here  you  go,     ❞     a  mutter,  handing  over  the  mix,  as  she  followed  joyce’s  gaze  towards  the  collection  of  mugs.     ❝     whoa  !     i  don’t  think  i’ve  ever  seen  so  many  mugs.     ❞     it  was  obvious  she  wasn’t  being  judgmental,  simply  making  conversation.     without  another  word,  robin  took  the  handle  of  a  nice  black  and  red  cup,  setting  it  on  top  of  the  counter.     ❝     so,  uh,  how  are  you  holding  up  ?     ❞     she  hoped  it  was  appropriate  to  ask,  but  she  was  curious  —  and  it  wasn’t  every  day  some  monster  showed  its  ugly  head.

on instinct, she flips up the cap on the kettle's whistle. it's more of a morning thing, when she's running around making sure will's ready for school and jonathan's alright and getting ready for work, and sometimes the whistle reminds her that she even put water on to boil to begin with. but this is a calmer hour, an easier one, and her and robin are both in the kitchen anyway. joyce automatically moves it towards one of the back burners on the stove. the front one is on the fritz again. joyce takes a second to lean against the counter and breathe.

it's just been a long day.

she takes out two packets of the hot chocolate mix, setting the box on the counter. “ oh - yeah! i like to pick up new ones when i see them. it's about the little things, i guess. ” she lets robin pick her mug and plucks one down that's a simple deep blue, the rim cracked a little from years of being in the byers household. “ good choice, by the way, ” she says, smiling a little down at their mugs.

then there's a pause. for a moment, joyce just tears open the packets and pours the powder into each cup respectively. “ it’s been... tough, ” she finally says. an understatement. “ really tough. but i’m working through it. ”

[lightsleft-blog]

batsittter‌:

it’s a strange thing, waking up and seeing joyce byers by his bedside when he’s hooked up to machines, shaking with breaths that hurt to breathe, trembling and whimpering whenever a doctor, bleary and nondescript in steve’s swollen, compromised eyesight, comes too close.  he wakes up to see his parents there once;  he doesn’t think they come back, and even if they do he doesn’t see them again.  they’re in new york now, he hears, but not from them  —  from mary, the maid that’s been taking care of the harrington house practically all of steve’s life.  she comes to see him a couple of times, leaves flowers once.  but steve’s visitors  —  they’re mostly this broken, found family popping up in small groups or one-at-a-time when they can;  dustin and robin every day, and there’s erica, too, who comes more than she’ll admit. 

they’re all here now, too  —  except for erica;  she’s a capitalist, and there’s nothing in it here for her  —  and it’s…  nice, even though it’s sad.  because the byerses are moving, and steve finds that hard to process now, after everything.  he’s been packing dishes in the kitchen and smaller items  —  he doesn’t miss how mrs. byers makes sure he doesn’t pick up anything heavier than a lamp  —  in jonathan and will’s rooms, but…  it’s bullshit, but that’s even too much after a few hours. 

“ you don’t want me laying around, taking up space. ”   it’s spoken as a joke, even though his eyes are more surprised and warmed and expecting rebuke or refusal than teasing like his tone, but…  is it a joke at all?  it’s strange, off-putting in the best way, to be around an adult  —  a parent, even if she’s not his  —  that doesn’t push him out and away.   “ besides, i’m pretty sure will is using the couch as a storage facility for his art supplies right now. ” 

sometimes she tries to remind herself that the older kids are almost adults. joyce doesn't need to act like this around them, and maybe she shouldn't. but she's also fully aware of several things about steve. she came across his parents once in the hospital, and they had been there at steve's bedside for all of a few minutes before they left. everyone knew that the harringtons were, to put it mildly, distant, and it had always rubbed her the wrong way. lonnie used to tell her that she cared too much about other people (and the implication, of course, that she didn't care enough about him). he was a little bit right, but she's okay with that about herself.

people need someone to care about them, especially in somewhere like hawkins. there's been nothing but tragedy around here for the past few years. and sure, she could be in bed right now, or half-falling asleep on the couch herself to the news, but this is important too. the fact is that, from what she's been told and what she knows, steve and robin did a lot to make sure things turned out - well, not good. but okay, in the end. that most people made it out. if nothing else, he went through a lot of pain, more than he should have to.

more than any kid should have to.

she crosses her arms and gives him the same look she gives jonathan when he says that she doesn't need to do something. well, no one needs to do anything, but sometimes you should do it anyway. “ i wouldn’t have brought it up if i wasn’t okay with it, steve. ” from anyone else it would sound harsh, but joyce modulates it down into something that seems more concerned than anything. then she shrugs. “ and the floor can also hold all those supplies if it needs to. things're already a mess. look, i kind of want a beer, and i won't tell anyone i'm letting you have one if you won't. ”

[dekutree]

*mom voice* absolutely fucking not

[lightsleft-blog]

starter call!

[dramacliche-deactivated20190824]

𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚 & 𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙧𝙤𝙗𝙞𝙣 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨.

[lightsleft-blog]

dramacliche‌:

          whoever  knew  hanging  out  with  steve  the  hair  harrington  also  consisted  of  hanging  out  with  a  bunch  of  kids  !     albeit,  robin  would  admit,  they  were  decently  cool  for  their  ages.     most  of  the  time,  anyway;  now  wasn’t  one  of  those  times.     a  light  scoff  escaped  robin’s  lips  as  steve  and  the  kids  rushed  off,  in  the  midst  of  some  new  argument  —  robin  could  never  keep  up  !     arms  crossed  over  her  chest  as  she  watched  from  a  distance,  her  attention  soon  on  joyce.     suddenly,  arms  soon  uncrossed  and  robin  offered  her  a  smile  at  the  invitation.     

          ❝     hot  chocolate  sounds  nice,  uh,  miss  byers,  and  i  promise  mum’s  the  word,     ❞     she  joked  lightly,  as  she  inched  towards  the  byers’  kitchen,  attention  mindlessly  wandering  around  the  decor  —  she  was  a  curious  girl,  that  much  was  obvious.

a few years ago, joyce would have never expected to have this many kids around her house, and especially not steve harrington. him and jonathan had some trouble in the past. but as it turned out, knowing what they all knew brought people together, one way or another. robin's just the newest addition. it's nice to see robin smile a little bit, and not have to just sit there making fun of steve because it seems like a second job for her at this point. so she heads into the kitchen, starting to fill the kettle with more water. “ the mix's over in the pantry on the second shelf. if you wouldn't mind grabbing it for me, that'd be great. ”

joyce likes to collect mugs. she's got about a dozen of them, ranging from normal to odd ones that look more like colorful bowls with handles grafted onto them. she takes down a few and sets them on the counter. “ you can pick one of these too. ”

[lightsleft-blog]

COGNITIVE ASSESSMENT

alcoholism . amnesia . anxiety . appetite loss .  binge eating . co - dependence . cynicism . defensiveness. denial . depersonalization . depression . derealization . devaluation . displacement . dissociation . drug abuse . dysphoria . emotional detachment . flashbacks . flat affect . guilt . hallucinations . hypersomnia .hypervigilance . hypochondria . idealization. insomnia . intellectualization . introjection . isolation . low self-esteem . narcissism . night terrors . obsessive compulsion . overeating . panic attacks . passive aggression . paranoia. phobias . projection . psychosis . rationalization . regression . repression . restrictive eating . risky sex . self-harm . somatization . splitting . sublimation . suicidal ideation . sleepwalking . suppression . thousand-yard stare . triggers . trust issues . violence . whiplash temper .

tagging: whoever wants to, i haven’t had coffee yet and i don’t remember urls at all

[eurydse-blog]

Day 1: Favourite dynamic — The Byers

             I love you more than anything in the world. Please, please come back to me.

[lightsleft-blog]

me, seeing any heathers blogs in my recommended blogs: this is very weird. fc stuff is weird sometimes

[lightsleft-blog]

@richmisery

small town etiquette sometimes tells you to shut the hell up and not intervene, and sometimes it tells you to get involved. but what’s driving joyce here isn’t small town etiquette - it’s the mom instinct. all the times jonathan got himself hurt, or more accurately, when some stupid kid with a chip on their shoulder hurt him. besides, joyce is no stranger to wearing your pain and grief openly. she doesn’t have the time to be ashamed of the things she feels and the way she displays them.

so when there’s a boy, and he’s bleeding from the knuckles when the two of them awkwardly shuffle for room outside melvald’s to smoke, joyce tries to keep her mouth shut.

but she can’t. “ hey, honey, ” she says gently, trying to make her tone as inoffensive as possible, concerned but not too concerned, “ you know we’ve got bandages for your knuckles in there if you need them? ”

[mikejane]

They need each other the most right now.