Totally "apathetic"
we're not kids anymore.

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@bogwitchlesbian
Totally "apathetic"
Steve : If I ever hurt you, I will hurt my own heart, cause every single beat of my heart says your name.
Billy :
He could treat you SOOOO good, Stevie.
20 years late on the trend for this pose but I wanted to do it anyway
Also hello harringrove it’s been how long….?
Alexa, play "Down Bad."
billy being so embarrassed about the fact he needs to wear glasses especially when reading, like he's an old man or something and just refuses to wear them regardless of how bad his headaches get and then staying the night at steves only to find out that steve wears glasses and he looks so good in them and theyre a really thick black frame that stand out against his face and billy cant stop staring and then the next time he spends the night he sheepishly puts his own pair on
Billy, throwing Harrington's door open
The look that launched 10,000 fics.
oh, you have got to be kidding me.
Steve: Oh. Bummer.
rb to give the previous person a fucking break because life aint life-ing the way its supposed to life and it fucking sucks.
“We’re not- no, stop. It’s not like that. Sure, when I first met Steve, like years ago, I had a crush on him. But- but not now.” Eddie looks around the room. Some of their friends have raised eyebrows, some are avoiding eye contact, while others stare in disbelief. He really really wants this conversation to end. “Y’know, I’m with- um, with…”
Oh no.
Eddie’s staring at the man he’s dating. The man he’s been dating for two months. The man whose name has suddenly evaporated from his goddamn mind. Shit.
“Darryl?” The man in question supplies with a very unamused expression.
“Yeah,” Eddie fumbles, throwing his hands out like obviously it’s Darryl.
Mike snorts from somewhere behind Eddie. He hopes Dustin elbows him directly in the ribs.
“And, and I liked Eddie,” Steve pipes up. “At one point. But-but not… we’re not…” he awkwardly motions between them and it’s not helping.
But Eddie thinks he hears tires squealing because Steve just admitted he’d liked him at one point. When did that happen?
“Wait? Y-you did? Uh,” Eddie takes a step closer to Steve and tries to lower his voice. “When? When was this?”
“Uh ohhh,” Gareth murmurs.
but if he asked, i’d beg for him to destroy me | k.s.
gen z has to reckon with its radicalization problem. you are not a morally pure and superior generation of youth come to save the world, your men and boys are radicalized at an unprecedented level and you ignore it because it’s too hard to address but you have to. these boys are in your classes, they date your friends, you know them and you cannot continue to pretend this is an “old white guy” problem
girls are contributing, too. the coquette aesthetic, the “i don’t want to girlboss i want a man to pay my bills”, girlmath girljob girlmoney. it’s a joke, it’s clothes, it’s whatever, i get it but it is driving a mentality of traditional gender roles and you know you’re joking but your boyfriend doesn’t. your kid brother doesn’t. you have to stop this shit it is a contributing factor
i dont consider myself a 'fashion guru' by any means but one thing i will say is guys you dont need to know the specific brand an item you like is - you need to know what the item is called. very rarely does a brand matter, but knowing that pair of pants is called 'cargo' vs 'boot cut' or the names of dress styles is going to help you find clothes you like WAAAYYYY faster than brand shopping
this also goes for aesthetic or -core titles. 'y2k tank top' is going to get you resellers and fast fashion brands advertising to people looking to meet a current trend. 'thin strap crop tank top' is going to get you a diverse group of results and not upcharge you to hell and back
additionally, shop second hand when you can, second hand and thrift sites typically organize clothes by the cut and color. theyll be more affordable than a depop seller curating you a style to sell you
useful terminology for different kinds of clothing shapes :)
does anyone wanna hold hands until we feel a little braver
the reblog map is all of us holding hands btw
We are each other's night sky. No one is alone here.
Steve goes to a gay club for the first time alone. He and Robin, they'd talked about it since moving to Chicago, but every time they made plans he got cold feet.
But on a random, rainy Saturday with Robin back home in Hawkins, he decides fuck it, puts on his sluttiest jeans and polo, and goes to the damn club. He's sick of being nervous--he's going to make out with a guy for the first time tonight.
The club is crowded, loud, sweaty, the energy a pulsing wave. He's overwhelmed immediately, but it's invigorating. He pushes towards the bar, orders a beer, then cozies himself against the nearest wall.
He sips his drink and watches beautiful men dance and kiss and play, and he wants to be part of it, get out there, find his own person to get close to but--
What if none of this is for him? He feels out of place in his clothes, with his hairstyle, an old version of himself that doesn't belong in this world.
There's a swell of sound at the bar, and he glances over, expecting drunks or fighting. Instead, he sees a guy who makes his plans to leave slip straight from his mind.
He's unlike any other person there, even within his group. Long, curly hair, visible tattoos, ripped black jeans, a faded black t-shirt under a big leather jacket. He moves with purpose and grace, obviously uncaring about fitting in.
Steve can't stop watching him, transfixed. He buys another beer, settles back against his wall. He knows it's weird, but can't bring himself to care. Not when it's helping him feel more comfortable in his own skin.
The guy, he's vibrant, the brightest spot, his laughter reaching Steve even over the pounding music.
He's beautiful.
The lights flash, illuminating his face and recognition hits Steve like a fist. It's Eddie Munson, former freak of Hawkins High.
Steve's spine straightens, chest tightening. He can't believe--I mean there were rumors about Eddie in school, but he's here, right now, in Chicago, and Steve--Steve--
He abandons the remains of his beer, rushing out the door.