heartburriedinvenice

[heartburriedinvenice]

you should lowk add motion sickness to ur phoebe thing for theo not. Maybe she’s like a whirlwind and they used each other to feel okay

OH I AM EXCITED ABOUT THIS ONE! plotting it rn, dropping soon

[heartburriedinvenice]

jj lowk gives me moon song and georgia vibes idk why

and i could not agree more! gonna start brainstorming these ones

[heartburriedinvenice]

the end is undeniably near (and i keep running towards it) - steve h.

(steve harrington x hopper!reader)

a part of my phoebe challenge 🎞🪐💌🕯

based on the song "i know the end" by phoebe bridgers

in which you always wanted to escape hawkins, indiana, until you didn't anymore.

or

in which the billboard said "the end is near"

content warning post season 3 (SO SPOILERS), mild cursing (maybe), ANGST like the whole time, unhealthy coping, and hawkins being hawkins, reader is an implied theater kid (im sorry not sorry)

a / n i disappeared on y’all, I’m sorry!! you know life is getting weird when i randomly return to tumblr.  just dipping my toes back in the water of all this so i apologize if i am a little rusty. this is just a piece of a hopper!reader show rewrite that has been in the works for a while so if anyone likes it enough, lmk, I’d be be happy to start posting the whole thing,starting from season 1! any feedback would be awesome (and also requests cause I need inspo back). okay enjoy some angst!

No one ever got out of Hawkins, Indiana. Like the town was somehow enclosed within some heavy-duty bubble, only a few people ever got the nerves to squeeze through. Until you did, until you did the one thing you believed was impossible. You packed your bags, loaded up your car, and left hell. And you did it without a goodbye because the only way to do the impossible was without one. And deep down you knew you were a coward, even after fighting monsters and otherworldly creatures, you were a coward. You could not face what was left behind or allow yourself to acknowledge it.

And it ate away at you in a way you could have never imagined. Too busy pretending like it never crossed your mind, like Hawkins never existed in the first place. Still, it chipped at you piece by piece until the guilt of escaping Hawkins, Indiana finally caught up with you. Until one day that guilt would sneak up and trip you, sending you tumbling all the way back down a hill to only land right back at the gates of Hawkins, at its green sign, Welcome to Hawkins! That warm welcome, the warmest welcome, with its murders and second dimensions and its people. Those people. Those people who worked their way so deep into your heart before you could even realize it. So deep that leaving felt like removing deeply grown roots from a garden, so impossible, so hard to tell where they even stopped growing.  You weren’t sure entirely when they grew so deep, you don’t really remember at all how they got there. When you let them? Why did you let them? After everything, you should have known better. You shouldn’t have let them.

You were fifteen when you knew you could never live in Hawkins, Indiana your whole life. It never felt real, artificial, fake. Mass-produced nuclear families and white picket fence houses and stale dead-end jobs. 

And then Steve Harrington needed an extra art credit and found his way as the lead in Hawkins High’s production of Romeo and Juliet. When rehearsing turned into giving Steve girl advice and driving with him to drop off flowers. When running lines became swinging a bat of nails and finding an alien in a fridge. When the day before the play performance had turned into icing Steve's bruises on your couch as you ran lines back and forth because neither of you could sleep. When a whole group of middle schoolers sat in the front row and your dad sat center with a bouquet of flowers. They were your family. Your strange and messy family all pretending to be interested in the gibberish mess of Shakespeare on stage. Them watching with stifled laughs as Steve stumbled through lines, as the balcony scene turned into him and you having a staring contest trying to figure out whose lines were next. And though your director would have your heads later, the two of you sat giggling during intermission and had to hold the laughter again when your director asked why you didn’t have time to be memorized to perfection. Because you had all the time in the world, didn’t you?. 

Unbelievable as it was, you began to question what you at fifteen had promised you would do. Because you had found more than stale every day Hawkins. You had found their odd-balls who taught you to play Dungeons and Dragons in their basement, who reminded you so much of your sister. And you had found Steve Harrington, a pretty boy with a heart of gold, who risked his life for his Juliet that night at the mall. Who held you tight when it all got too much.

When you moved back to Hawkins, Indiana, after Sara, after your parents split, you were sure life would never be the same again. You needed a fresh start, to completely reconfigure your life and pretend none of what had happened had happened. That you never had a sister, that your dad hadn’t completely changed, burrowing himself under alcohol and late shifts. That your mom wasn’t actively trying to forget and build another life over the one that had been left abandoned in that New York apartment. You were so sure you would have to move on, cut it all out the minute you graduated from high school. You were sure you had to escape on your rickety old bike right out of town.

Then things happened and somehow you found yourself again, found your father again as you sat together for your first Christmas dinner in years. Celebrating the return of the young Will Byers and the return of something else, something more, something familiar and warm. It wasn’t perfect, far from it, but it was yours. You saw your father again for the first time in years that night, Christmas Eve, sitting on the porch as light snow fell and hit your heads, bundled in warm jackets, pretending the coffee you made was not mediocre at best. The police chief and his daughter, a messy duo. And that was perfect to you.

And then things happened again and again and again and finally everything just shattered.

And you left. You did what you had always hoped to do. But you didn’t feel the pride you had thought you would feel when you dreamed it at fifteen. You weren’t heading towards a new life, you were sitting in a stuffy apartment in the city. You were stuck again at what felt like the beginning. Unable to go with the Byers, you immediately made other plans, back at the apartment you had spent so many nights trying to forget. 

No one ever got out of Hawkins, Indiana. Like the town was somehow enclosed within some heavy-duty bubble, only a few people ever got the nerves to squeeze through. Until you did, until you did the one thing you believed was impossible. You packed your bags, loaded up your car, and left hell. And you did it without a goodbye because the only way to do the impossible was without one. And deep down you knew you were a coward, even after fighting monsters and otherworldly creatures, you were a coward. You could not face what was left behind or allow yourself to acknowledge it.

And it ate away at you in a way you could have never imagined or wanted to imagine. Too busy pretending like it never crossed your mind, like Hawkins never existed in the first place. Still, it chipped at you piece by piece until the guilt of escaping Hawkins, Indiana finally caught up with you. Until one day that guilt would sneak up and trip you, sending you tumbling all the way back down a hill to only land right back at the gates of Hawkins, at its green sign, Welcome to Hawkins! That warm welcome, the warmest welcome, with its murders and second dimensions and its people. Those people. Those people who worked their way so deep into your heart before you could even realize it. So deep that leaving felt like removing deeply grown roots from a garden, so impossible, so hard to tell where they even stopped growing.  You weren’t sure entirely when they grew so deep, you don’t really remember at all how they got there. When you let them? Why did you let them? After everything, you should have known better. You shouldn’t have let them.

You were fifteen when you knew you could never live in Hawkins, Indiana your whole life. It never felt real, artificial, fake. Mass-produced nuclear families and white picket fence houses and stale dead-end jobs. 

And then Steve Harrington needed an extra art credit and found his way as the lead in Hawkins High’s production of Romeo and Juliet. When rehearsing turned into giving Steve girl advice and driving with him to drop off flowers. When running lines became swinging a bat of nails and finding an alien in a fridge. Or jumping into a hole in the ground and lighting up never-ending tunnels of vines straight from those horror movies you used to watch with your sister. When the day before the play performance had turned into icing Steve's bruises on your couch as you ran lines back and forth because neither of you could sleep. When a whole group of middle schoolers sat in the front row and your dad sat center with a crumble bouquet of flowers. They were your family. Your strange and messy family all pretending to be interested in the gibberish mess of Shakespeare on stage. Them watching with stifled laughs as Steve stumbled through lines, as the balcony scene turned into him and you having a staring contest trying to figure out whose lines were next. And though your director would have your heads later, the two of you sat giggling during intermission and had to hold the laughter again when your director asked why you didn’t have time to be memorized to perfection. Because you had all the time in the world, didn’t you?. 

Unbelievable as it was, you began to question what you at fifteen had promised you would do. Because you had found more than stale every day Hawkins, you had found their odd-balls who taught you to play Dungeons and Dragons in their basement who reminded you so much of your sister. And you had found Steve Harrington, a pretty boy with a heart of gold, who risked his life for his Juliet that night at the mall, pulling you up when you twisted your ankle running up a flight of stairs and getting you out to paramedics when it was over. Icing your ankle and holding you when it all got too much. When you watched everyone exit the mall but the only real family you felt like you had left. When the police told you your fathers body couldn’t be found, buried under ash and grime in the mall fire. That he was the hero, that he saved your lives sacrificing himself. 

When you moved back to Hawkins, Indiana, after Sara, after your parents split, you were sure life would never be the same again. You needed a fresh start, to completely reconfigure your life and pretend none of what had happened had happened. That you never had a sister, that your dad hadn’t completely changed, burrowing himself under alcohol and late shifts. That your mom wasn’t actively trying to forget and build another life over the past one that had been left abandoned in that New York apartment, calling only for holidays and those important life events she was so sad she had to miss. You were so sure you would have to move on, cut it all out the minute you graduated from high school. You were sure you had to escape on your rickety old bike right out of town.

Then things happened and somehow you found yourself again, found your father again as you sat together for their first Christmas dinner in years. Celebrating the return of the young Will Byers and the return of something else, something more, something familiar and warm. It wasn’t perfect, far from it, but it was steps in a direction. You saw your father again for the first time in years that night, Christmas Eve, sitting on the porch as light snow fell and hit your heads, bundled in warm jackets, pretending the coffee you made was not mediocre at best. It wasn’t perfect, but it was something for the two of you. The police chief and his daughter, a messy duo. And that was perfect to you.

And then things happened again and again and again and finally everything just shattered.

And you left. You did what you had always hoped to do. But you didn’t feel the pride you had thought you would feel when you dreamed it at fifteen. You weren’t heading towards a new life, you were sitting in a stuffy apartment in the city. You were stuck again at what felt like the beginning. Unable to go with the Byers, you immediately made other plans, back at the apartment you had spent so many nights trying to forget. 

Spring of 1986, the New York apartment was driving you insane. You felt like you might start running up the walls if you didn’t get out soon. At least that would be ten times more interesting than sitting and watching your Step-Dad watch golf—a sport you didn't understand. Seeing how bored you were, he tried to explain it, but you didn't process a single word he was saying.

You didn’t want to have something with him, you didn’t want a thing you bonded over and you especially didn’t want that thing to be golf.

You debated moving, you debated being drastic and dying your hair to make your mom upset but what good would that do other than feed the part in yourself that no longer cared, no longer wanted to care. Everything you cared about had slipped from your grasp, had disappeared, no matter how tightly you clutched it was gone.

Fuck.

You stared at the wallpaper, one you knew your mom had probably gushed over at the store and chosen. And you glanced at the patterned carpet, and the family picture you were not in. And even though they all reassured you that you were family, deep down you knew you had uprooted their whole routine. You especially saw it in your moms eyes when she looked at you a little too long, a constant reminder of what she had lost all those years ago.  

You listened to the busy city traffic below the apartment and the sound of wailing sirens you had completely become ignorant of after you lived in Hawkins so long. You glanced at the kitchen, the sink with no dishes and a fridge actually filled with food that wasn’t leftover take-out, mediocre pasta you had cooked, or boxes of Eggos. And you looked at the man beside you, silent, watching golf. It was all so different.

Every day it remained that way, your mom got home from work late, your stepfather came home before you got back from school, and then Liam, your step brother would come home.

He made it all a little more bearable. The littlest but only because he reminded you of home. He reminded you of Dungeons and Dragons in Mike Wheeler's basement, and your found sister, and the party that always had you on your toes. But even you could not warm up to the boy because he would never be them. And it was unfair. It was cruel of you to make comparisons between Hawkins and New York, to allow that to shut out the only family you now had. But it was one habit you could not seem to break no matter how hard you tried.

Hawkins, Indiana was quiet, it was small. Hawkins, Indiana was both a breath of fresh air and a tightening grip that had you gasping, clawing for a second to breathe. New York was loud, so loud that the sounds of sirens and blaring car horns became only white noise in your head. It was big, not big in the welcoming and warming way. Not big in the feeling of catching sight of a friend in a crowded room. It was big in the way you could not point out a single person at school that you had seen more than once.  It was big in a way similar to that of being alone in the middle of a large party. It was so big that being alone in a quiet, dark, empty room would feel the same as walking amidst the large crowds on the street.

And New York didn’t have Steve Harrington. New York didn’t have crazy kids and weird aliens, New York didn’t have Robin Buckley or Nancy Wheeler or Jonathan Byers, New York didn’t have comforting hugs from Joyce, and New York didn’t have your dad and it never would again. The thought of it was enough to make you sick, nausea filling every inch of your body, barely able to swallow down the fact. But you would swallow it down like you always did, like you did everything else.

Your mom would always tell you you could talk to her if you needed to, that no matter how long you were a part she still cared about you. But you still remember the look on her face when you had turned up at the apartment after all those years. Finally back together face to face, the only words she was able to muster was, “you grew up”. 

You kept busy filling the days with nothing. On a good day Liam would show you some project he did in class that day, him seemingly the most unbothered by your move-in. And your stepdad, Bill, would ask you how school was to which you would reply fine. It was fine, it would always be just fine.

And you would stare at the phone on the wall in the kitchen. Dialing and hanging up and dialing and hanging up, hearing him pick up and then slamming the phone down, falling back into the chair at the kitchen table. Sometimes he would call back, you knew he caught on, you would just listen as the phone rang, head in your hands. You couldn’t face it, it was all too much and answering that call, hearing that voice would only throw it all back at you at once. It would knock you down and hold you there as you tried to gain control of the emotions you had locked up so tight once again. You felt sick to your stomach once again and the feeling spread, it spread all throughout your body, all the way to your fingertips and toes. For the first time in your life, you begged your body to just throw up, hoping the feelings would go along with it, until the pit in your stomach was completely washed away. 

It was this sinking feeling every time you heard the phone ring and as much as you wanted to convince yourself otherwise, you weren’t sure if you would ever pick up. Maybe you would just forget about it all. But it was hard when your mind was plagued with images of creatures you could only describe as otherworldly and when every time you looked at yourself in the mirror before a shower your eyes would draw focus to the deep cut scars that littered your body. You would never truly escape Hawkins, Indiana, it was impossible, and it would follow you around until you finally gave up and went back. But you refused to allow it to have that control, until you picked up the phone…by accident.

It was late, a Saturday evening of all things. Your mother was working late that weekend, your step dad was asleep on the couch, and your step brother had abandoned his books on the table and gone to bed. And the phone kept ringing and ringing and ringing, over and over in repeated increments. One call, two minutes passed, another call, three minutes had passed, and a third call with three minutes passing and on and on and on-

“Will you turn the damn thing off!” Yelled the man on the couch, whose deep sleeping was even disturbed by your past trying to creep back in. 

And it worried you, as you apologized and turned back to the phone, head aching from the noise. It worried you because every time before, the phone would ring one, maybe two times before the line went silent. But tonight, you had lost track of just how many times you had slammed the phone down to stop the ringing.

You looked up at the phone again, quiet for much too long, longer than before and RING. RING. RING.

The grunt of your step father filled the empty room and without a second thought, not wanting another lecture from your mom about not getting along with him, you reached for the phone line. Slowly placing it against your ear, you instantly pulled it back as a voice blasted through, louder than the ringing of the phone itself. “Goddammit! please pick up the phone-”

“Hey,” was all you said, it was faint and quiet in contrast, laced with guilt that had piled up from months of avoidance and pretending Hawkins didn’t exist. But it was loud enough to stop the yelling as murmurs and whispers filled the background of wherever your caller was calling from. 

Your Steve Harrington, your Romeo who deserved answers. After everything you had been through he deserved something from you that you had failed to deliver.

“Oh thank god, you don’t know how happy I am to hear your voice,” and what you expected to be anger was anything but, rather the clearest sound of overwhelming relief. Relief that all came crashing down the minute he spoke his next words. “You need to get back here, like... like-“

The sound of struggling came from their end of the phone and your heart rate sped up in a panic, only realizing how tightly you were holding the phone to your ear.

Dustin’s voice quickly came through the line, a complaining Steve evident in the back, “like right now, like ASAP, like as soon as possible.”

Dustin’s voice, his tone did nothing to loosen your grip on the phone, nothing to ease your panic and you almost slammed the phone down again. Back home, back in the familiar, back to memories of people that haunted your every thought. You wondered if they had called the Byers, your sister, you wondered if she was there too. 

“We can pay your bus ticket, but I can’t really explain like this and we just, we need your help,” Dustin practically cried. “We all need you. We can’t let anyone get hurt again.”

That was all you needed. Hawkins had a pull on you, a force you tried to ignore but eventually pulled you back anyways. Steve was back on the line soon after, you already scribbling a note to your mom, phone pressed against your ear by your shoulder. And when you heard his voice again your breath caught in your throat…it seemed to always do that with him.

“Steve, I-”

“You don’t have to say anything.”

“No, but, Steve I really, just…I don’t know where to start,” you tried to explain, losing any of the words you had planned to say while lying awake at night, staring at the ceiling. 

“You don’t have to,” he simply said. But you knew you would, you had too many words to speak. “Just show up, just be here. We need you, even if you don’t believe me. It’s getting crazy again.”

Hawkins would never not be.

“I will be,” you reassured, really reassured. “I will be, I promise.”

And if everyone in Hawkins knew something, you never broke a promise, never. You got close sometimes, sometimes it seemed like you would, but you always met your end of the bargain. You said you would be back in Hawkins, Indiana and you would be. Setting the phone down back on it's holder with a quiet click, you jumped from your chair in the kitchen, as the wood chair quietly screeched against the floor. Open and close, open and close, the drawers in the kitchen were opening and closing until you found a tape role, cutting away a piece. Grabbing your note off the counter, you secured the piece to it and stuck it against the fridge where it would be noticed by your mom.

She would know what it meant, you knew she knew all along, that New York hadn’t been your home in a long time. That Hawkins had grown into something much deeper than you could have ever anticipated. And even then, in that kitchen, in that busy city…you knew, the end was near

[heartburriedinvenice]

i know i just started new fics...but a collection of fics based on rom coms...MIGHT NEED TO LOCK IN ON THAT! like imagine steve harrington in "how to loose a guy in 10 days"!

[heartburriedinvenice]

just posted my masterlist for my phoebe bridgers writing challeneg (fics based on phoebe songs)!! as you can see, there are some banks and I would love some character requests to fill these

[heartburriedinvenice]

lol i am back...

[heartburriedinvenice]

▬▬▬▬▬ phoebe challenge 🎞🪐💌🕯

a collection of fics that are based on that feeling phoebe bridgers songs give you !!

(help me fill in the blanks with characters for these songs!! )

completed ( 0 / 9 )

i know the end ( s. harrington )

savior complex (???)

georgia ( ???)

if we make it through december ( r. buckley )

moon song (???)

graceland too (???)

funeral (???)

the gold (???)

scott street (???)

halloween ( r. buckley )

sidelines ( p. parker )

[heartburriedinvenice]

YOURE BACK?!? oh my god

HI! i haven't been on here in forever and i missed writing a lot! felt like popping back in (i didn't know anyone still looked at this account)

BIGGEST COMEBACK OF THE YEAR??(maybe)

[heartburriedinvenice]

i really am so bad at finishing before moving on to the next thing LOL! cause i started it and then i was working on something else like an idiot. its almost done, along with a lot of other stuff i really loved writing, so keep an eye out! thanks for everyones patience and continued support <33

Next Week

( steve harrington x reader )

in which you just want to rent Back to the Future but every week it has already been rented and every time you come back to check Steve Harrington says it will be back. . . next week and for some reason, you still believe him.

or

in which two lovesick idiots have to make stupid excuses to talk to each other.

content warning mild cursing, steve being an idiot, the reader being an idiot, robin being the only smart one, and steve's awful description of the back to the future plot

a / n i love steve harrington so here's this... the last piece of happiness on this account before i drop so much angst with no mercy ( and then after that a robin fluff piece ) i believe you can survive this war but before that happens enjoy this mess!!

You had noticed a few things about the video store in Hawkins, Indiana. One, Keith didn’t work there alone anymore. Two, the cute boy working there always made your hands unnecessarily sweaty. And three, they never seemed to have the movies you were looking for. 

It started a few weeks ago. Your sister wanted to watch a movie that weekend after missing the showing of Back to the Future due to the unfortunate mall fire that knocked out a whole block of town. So the two of your drove to the gas station, bought a bunch of junk food, and headed to the video store. Though as soon as you walked in, you noticed the idiot who would quiz you for around twenty minutes on every movie you returned, and no you weren’t exaggerating, your sister had timed it, was no longer at the counter. But instead, the fallen king of Hawkins High, Steve Harrington, him and his hair in all its glory. You weren’t sure how his dethroning as king resulted in him getting stuck working at the video store by the arcade, for half a second you question if it was even him or maybe some weirdly similar look alike. But no, no it was Steve, you would know it anywhere. And just like any day, you had made your way to the counter, smiling at the boy who almost immediately smiled back upon meeting your gaze.

“Hi,” you greeted. 

“Hey,” he replied, reciting the lines Keith had gotten him to memorize after repeating them to him probably fifty times. “I’m Steve, welcome to Hawkins Family Video, where we bring movies to you, what can I do for you today?”

“I know who you are, Steve” you said, though immediately you wished you could turn back time find a time machine and jump backwards at how creepy it sounded. “Shit, I didn’t mean that to sound so creepy! Im sorry, I just, we went to the same high school. Well of course we went to the same high school but you know-”

“No! No, it’s good,” Steve replied, slightly stumbling over his words. “I, uh, I didn't think you were being creepy. What can I do for you today?”

“Oh, yeah, I was looking for Back to the Future,” you replied. 

“Back to the Future’ huh?” He replied.

“Yeah,I didn’t really get to see it after the whole mall burning down and all, you know?”

He only nodded, you noticing him visibly tensing up at you comment. Passing it off as nothing but it being a stranger memory, a tragedy for a small town like Hawkins, something that didn’t happen often. It was weird, the tiniest bit unsettling.

“If i'm being honest, the movie was pretty meh. Like just okay. Pretty low on the movie scale for me. I got to see it, it was a little confusing,” Steve explained, his voice slightly dropping into a whisper. “Not to spoil anything, but I’m pretty sure, the mom in that movie is trying to bang her son...so…”

You stared at him for a second, waiting for him to say he was joking. But nothing came, only silence as you stared back at him with wide eyes, your voice dropping into a whisper to match his. 

“Wait, you aren’t joking?” you asked.

“I mean, I work at a video store, would I be steering you wrong?” He asked.

“There’s no way! No way!” You practically yelled. “That’s messed up, they played that here? How did the PTA at the schools not go insane?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to say! No one believes me,” he agreed. 

“I gotta see this movie,” you said, a quiet laugh escaping at the end of your words.

“Ill go ahead and find that for you,” he offered as he walked backwards towards the back room, bumping into the door in the process. “I’ll be right back.”

And he didn’t lie, not long after the boy headed back out of the backroom, you quickly realizing he was in fact empty handed.

“I’m sorry, just realized someone came in earlier and rented our last copy,” he tried to explain, running a hand through his hair. 

“Oh,”you replied, slightly deflating after the anticipation built up for the movie. “That’s okay, I’ll just rent something-.”

“But you can come back next week!” He interrupted, practically yelling. “It will be back next week…”

“Yeah? Okay. Cool, great! Sounds like a plan,” you replied with a slight nod. “Guess I’ll see you next week?”

“Yep, next week, see you then,” he replied, his words coming out in an awkward kind of manner. 

With a quick smile at the boy, you made your way towards the door, not even noticing that your hands were starting to become extremely clammy. Only stopped by the sound of Steve’s voice once again.

“Hey! What’s your name?” He asked. “You know, so I can keep track of who wants the movie next?”

And so you gave him your name, writing it down on a piece of paper because of his claimed horrible memory watching as he tucked it into his pocket as you exited yhe store. A smile glued to your face and a giddy somewhat nauseating feeling in your stomach as you made your way back into the car, almost forgetting the fact your sister was waiting for you. Scratch that, completely forgetting your sister was waiting for you.

“Did you get the movie?” She asked, practically groaning the sentence out. 

“What?” You asked, buckling your seatbelt.

“The movie” She replied like it was the most obvious thing. “Where is it?”

“Oh! Shit, yeah, that’s why we're here! Um, they didn’t have it, we'll have to watch it next week,” you replied nonchalantly, as something that once would have annoyed you had zero effect on your mood. “The boy who worked there said it would be back next week, wrote my name down and everything.”

The younger girl let out another groan as she dramatically collapsed back into her seat.

“Fine. But don’t expect me to watch the fucking ‘Outsiders’ with you again.”                                                                                                  

And It went on for a few weeks, you making your way to the video store every Friday night with the same answer from the boy. One would question the validity of his statement, that it would be there next week, your sister had called you a fucking idiot. Her newfound revaluation that she could say a curse word without being struck by lightning completely shifting her vocabulary.

One night you even asked for a different movie you were pretty sure no one would be watching, but of course it just so happened to have gotten rented. You didn’t mind though all that much, though you would never admit it out loud, you didn’t mind it at all. Because each time you walked in you were greeted by Steve Harrington and some sort of memorable conversation. Steve Harrington. Who was actually pretty nice company, no matter how much of a dork you had realized he was. And no matter how many times you told yourself to just watch something at your house or borrow something from your friend, you continued to drive up to the same store, only to be given the same answer. And no matter how many times your sister had called you oblivious, you ignored the metaphorical butterflies that attacked the walls of your stomach. Maybe it was those conversations, the conversations that caused you to stay way longer than you intended? The conversations that ranged from joking about Keith to talking about stuff that left the two of you there up until closing. Whatever it was, you couldn’t help yourself from coming back.

Just like any other Friday, you parked your car outside of the store, your sister no longer tagging along as she knew you weren’t getting the movie but instead a hour long conversation she would have to sit through in pure boredom. Opening the door, the little bell rang, and you were immediately caught off guard by someone else at the counter. There stood a girl, close to your age from what you could tell. Her shoulder length blonde hair was covering her face as she looked at some book that laid on the counter. Hesitantly, you made your way to the counter, feeling somewhat out of place without having the perfect haired, idiot staring at you. Like you were in a whole other building.

“Hi,” you stated, the blonde haired girl looking up from her book. Feeling as if this was somehow your first time stopping in.

“Hello,” the girl replied, gaze back on her book as she flipped to the next page.

“I come in here every week looking for Back to the Future, I’m pretty sure Steve has my name written down,” you tried to explain to the girl. “I was just wondering if it was finally here to rent?”

“‘Back to the Future’?” The girl asked, as if you were stupid.

“Yeah…” you replied, doubting yourself for a second. 

“What do you mean it hasn’t been here?” asked the girl, whose name you had picked up as Robin from her name tag. “Nobody has rented that movie for like the past two months.”

“But...I, he told me,” you said, at a loss for words.

“Well Stevie told you wrong,” said Robin, with a slight laugh, setting the book aside to set her full attention on you. “What’s your name again?”

“Y/N,” you simply replied.

“No way! Your’re the famous Y/N?” said Robin with a awestruck kind of enthusiasm. “I have been waiting to meet you. No wonder he was so upset about missing work today. He hates work, I was so surprised he even cared that much that he couldn’t be here but-”

“Famous?” You asked, the word sticking out in the midst of her ramble.

“Yeah, it’s not everyday that Steve Harrington has been so encompassed by a girl that he has to fake that ‘Back to the Future’ isn’t here just to get her back,” Robin said, a laugh following her words, almost bending over from how hard she was laughing. “What an idiot!”

“What do you mean by fake?”

“That it was gone. It was a plan to talk to you again. Oh he’s gonna kill me if he knew I told you,” she explained. “But he needs to get it over with and just ask you out. There is no way he strung it out this long!“

You stood there astonished, not even sure what to say back in response. Now your turn to wear that awestruck looks What were you even supposed to say? Where was the lesson on what to do in this type of situation?

“Is he still here?” You asked, part of you wanting to see him, the other wishing to run away and not look back.

“No matter how much I want to see this go down, sadly he had something today,” she replied. “I’m closing up tonight, but you know, I’m sure he’ll be here next week.”

[heartburriedinvenice]

hey slayers, sorry i disappeared for a sec, just had a lot going on! but i am back, with a lot of fics in my draft, and will be dropping them throughout the week <33

[heartburriedinvenice]

"when is part two of Next week coming?" Next week 😏😉

idk… maybe you should come back next week and see 😼

BUT actually its almost done so keep an eye out, will probably be out by the end of the this week! thanks for everyones support and patience as i write :)

[heartburriedinvenice]

the way this has me rolling across the floor 💀 felt. yes. yes, exactly.

Next Week

( steve harrington x reader )

in which you just want to rent Back to the Future but every week it has already been rented and every time you come back to check Steve Harrington says it will be back. . . next week and for some reason, you still believe him.

or

in which two lovesick idiots have to make stupid excuses to talk to each other.

content warning mild cursing, steve being an idiot, the reader being an idiot, robin being the only smart one, and steve's awful description of the back to the future plot

a / n i love steve harrington so here's this... the last piece of happiness on this account before i drop so much angst with no mercy ( and then after that a robin fluff piece ) i believe you can survive this war but before that happens enjoy this mess!!

You had noticed a few things about the video store in Hawkins, Indiana. One, Keith didn’t work there alone anymore. Two, the cute boy working there always made your hands unnecessarily sweaty. And three, they never seemed to have the movies you were looking for. 

It started a few weeks ago. Your sister wanted to watch a movie that weekend after missing the showing of Back to the Future due to the unfortunate mall fire that knocked out a whole block of town. So the two of your drove to the gas station, bought a bunch of junk food, and headed to the video store. Though as soon as you walked in, you noticed the idiot who would quiz you for around twenty minutes on every movie you returned, and no you weren’t exaggerating, your sister had timed it, was no longer at the counter. But instead, the fallen king of Hawkins High, Steve Harrington, him and his hair in all its glory. You weren’t sure how his dethroning as king resulted in him getting stuck working at the video store by the arcade, for half a second you question if it was even him or maybe some weirdly similar look alike. But no, no it was Steve, you would know it anywhere. And just like any day, you had made your way to the counter, smiling at the boy who almost immediately smiled back upon meeting your gaze.

“Hi,” you greeted. 

“Hey,” he replied, reciting the lines Keith had gotten him to memorize after repeating them to him probably fifty times. “I’m Steve, welcome to Hawkins Family Video, where we bring movies to you, what can I do for you today?”

“I know who you are, Steve” you said, though immediately you wished you could turn back time find a time machine and jump backwards at how creepy it sounded. “Shit, I didn’t mean that to sound so creepy! Im sorry, I just, we went to the same high school. Well of course we went to the same high school but you know-”

“No! No, it’s good,” Steve replied, slightly stumbling over his words. “I, uh, I didn't think you were being creepy. What can I do for you today?”

“Oh, yeah, I was looking for Back to the Future,” you replied. 

“Back to the Future’ huh?” He replied.

“Yeah,I didn’t really get to see it after the whole mall burning down and all, you know?”

He only nodded, you noticing him visibly tensing up at you comment. Passing it off as nothing but it being a stranger memory, a tragedy for a small town like Hawkins, something that didn’t happen often. It was weird, the tiniest bit unsettling.

“If i'm being honest, the movie was pretty meh. Like just okay. Pretty low on the movie scale for me. I got to see it, it was a little confusing,” Steve explained, his voice slightly dropping into a whisper. “Not to spoil anything, but I’m pretty sure, the mom in that movie is trying to bang her son...so…”

You stared at him for a second, waiting for him to say he was joking. But nothing came, only silence as you stared back at him with wide eyes, your voice dropping into a whisper to match his. 

“Wait, you aren’t joking?” you asked.

“I mean, I work at a video store, would I be steering you wrong?” He asked.

“There’s no way! No way!” You practically yelled. “That’s messed up, they played that here? How did the PTA at the schools not go insane?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to say! No one believes me,” he agreed. 

“I gotta see this movie,” you said, a quiet laugh escaping at the end of your words.

“Ill go ahead and find that for you,” he offered as he walked backwards towards the back room, bumping into the door in the process. “I’ll be right back.”

And he didn’t lie, not long after the boy headed back out of the backroom, you quickly realizing he was in fact empty handed.

“I’m sorry, just realized someone came in earlier and rented our last copy,” he tried to explain, running a hand through his hair. 

“Oh,”you replied, slightly deflating after the anticipation built up for the movie. “That’s okay, I’ll just rent something-.”

“But you can come back next week!” He interrupted, practically yelling. “It will be back next week…”

“Yeah? Okay. Cool, great! Sounds like a plan,” you replied with a slight nod. “Guess I’ll see you next week?”

“Yep, next week, see you then,” he replied, his words coming out in an awkward kind of manner. 

With a quick smile at the boy, you made your way towards the door, not even noticing that your hands were starting to become extremely clammy. Only stopped by the sound of Steve’s voice once again.

“Hey! What’s your name?” He asked. “You know, so I can keep track of who wants the movie next?”

And so you gave him your name, writing it down on a piece of paper because of his claimed horrible memory watching as he tucked it into his pocket as you exited yhe store. A smile glued to your face and a giddy somewhat nauseating feeling in your stomach as you made your way back into the car, almost forgetting the fact your sister was waiting for you. Scratch that, completely forgetting your sister was waiting for you.

“Did you get the movie?” She asked, practically groaning the sentence out. 

“What?” You asked, buckling your seatbelt.

“The movie” She replied like it was the most obvious thing. “Where is it?”

“Oh! Shit, yeah, that’s why we're here! Um, they didn’t have it, we'll have to watch it next week,” you replied nonchalantly, as something that once would have annoyed you had zero effect on your mood. “The boy who worked there said it would be back next week, wrote my name down and everything.”

The younger girl let out another groan as she dramatically collapsed back into her seat.

“Fine. But don’t expect me to watch the fucking ‘Outsiders’ with you again.”                                                                                                  

And It went on for a few weeks, you making your way to the video store every Friday night with the same answer from the boy. One would question the validity of his statement, that it would be there next week, your sister had called you a fucking idiot. Her newfound revaluation that she could say a curse word without being struck by lightning completely shifting her vocabulary.

One night you even asked for a different movie you were pretty sure no one would be watching, but of course it just so happened to have gotten rented. You didn’t mind though all that much, though you would never admit it out loud, you didn’t mind it at all. Because each time you walked in you were greeted by Steve Harrington and some sort of memorable conversation. Steve Harrington. Who was actually pretty nice company, no matter how much of a dork you had realized he was. And no matter how many times you told yourself to just watch something at your house or borrow something from your friend, you continued to drive up to the same store, only to be given the same answer. And no matter how many times your sister had called you oblivious, you ignored the metaphorical butterflies that attacked the walls of your stomach. Maybe it was those conversations, the conversations that caused you to stay way longer than you intended? The conversations that ranged from joking about Keith to talking about stuff that left the two of you there up until closing. Whatever it was, you couldn’t help yourself from coming back.

Just like any other Friday, you parked your car outside of the store, your sister no longer tagging along as she knew you weren’t getting the movie but instead a hour long conversation she would have to sit through in pure boredom. Opening the door, the little bell rang, and you were immediately caught off guard by someone else at the counter. There stood a girl, close to your age from what you could tell. Her shoulder length blonde hair was covering her face as she looked at some book that laid on the counter. Hesitantly, you made your way to the counter, feeling somewhat out of place without having the perfect haired, idiot staring at you. Like you were in a whole other building.

“Hi,” you stated, the blonde haired girl looking up from her book. Feeling as if this was somehow your first time stopping in.

“Hello,” the girl replied, gaze back on her book as she flipped to the next page.

“I come in here every week looking for Back to the Future, I’m pretty sure Steve has my name written down,” you tried to explain to the girl. “I was just wondering if it was finally here to rent?”

“‘Back to the Future’?” The girl asked, as if you were stupid.

“Yeah…” you replied, doubting yourself for a second. 

“What do you mean it hasn’t been here?” asked the girl, whose name you had picked up as Robin from her name tag. “Nobody has rented that movie for like the past two months.”

“But...I, he told me,” you said, at a loss for words.

“Well Stevie told you wrong,” said Robin, with a slight laugh, setting the book aside to set her full attention on you. “What’s your name again?”

“Y/N,” you simply replied.

“No way! Your’re the famous Y/N?” said Robin with a awestruck kind of enthusiasm. “I have been waiting to meet you. No wonder he was so upset about missing work today. He hates work, I was so surprised he even cared that much that he couldn’t be here but-”

“Famous?” You asked, the word sticking out in the midst of her ramble.

“Yeah, it’s not everyday that Steve Harrington has been so encompassed by a girl that he has to fake that ‘Back to the Future’ isn’t here just to get her back,” Robin said, a laugh following her words, almost bending over from how hard she was laughing. “What an idiot!”

“What do you mean by fake?”

“That it was gone. It was a plan to talk to you again. Oh he’s gonna kill me if he knew I told you,” she explained. “But he needs to get it over with and just ask you out. There is no way he strung it out this long!“

You stood there astonished, not even sure what to say back in response. Now your turn to wear that awestruck looks What were you even supposed to say? Where was the lesson on what to do in this type of situation?

“Is he still here?” You asked, part of you wanting to see him, the other wishing to run away and not look back.

“No matter how much I want to see this go down, sadly he had something today,” she replied. “I’m closing up tonight, but you know, I’m sure he’ll be here next week.”

[heartburriedinvenice]

I need part two for next week YOU CANT LEAVE ME HANGING 😭😭😭😭😭😭

WOULD never leave you hanging! part two on its way soon, just finishing some final planning

[heartburriedinvenice]

Part two to next week??

its happening!! its coming super soon!! so incredibly thankful by the support on the first one and i am happily dropping part two ASAP :)

[heartburriedinvenice]

EXACTLY what i was thinking-

Who Ever Loved That Loved Not at First Sight ?

( eddie munson x reader )

in which you haven't played Dungeons and Dragons in years, you definitely got the wrong date for your rehearsal, and Eddie Munson will never let you live down your middle school talent show performance.

content warnings mild cursing, hints towards drug use, and a lot of shakespeare.

a /n : so i am in love with eddie munson and i couldn't get this idea out of my head so i wrote it! ( i would definitely turn this into a small series if anyone wants it? ) a lot more stranger things fics coming, my brain is on an absolute high from this season-

join my taglist | my other work

You could have sworn the calendar said tonight was a rehearsal, after school, at five in the auditorium. And maybe you should have come to the conclusion you were wrong when all the lights down the hallway were off and only a faint glow emerged from the open door of the small auditorium. Maybe that’s when you should have stopped walking, headed out and called your friend to double-check, and just head home. But your curiosity was peaked and it would eat at you if you did not appease it.

Walking closer to the door you began to hesitate, you felt the pace at which you walked slow as if some sort of tar had appeared on the ground the closer you got. Gripping the door frame, you peered inside. Definitely not a rehearsal day. A long tackle took up most of the space, set pieces from your show moved towards the back of the stage, and the stage lights dimmed to blues and reds and greens to set some sort of ambiance. Seeing no one there you continued to walk in, taking the steps up the sides of the stage to get closer to the table. A board, a few dice ranging in sides, an open notebook blocked by a folder, little figures placed in different spots on the board, and a grand throne sat at the head of the table. The same one used in last year's play, you had sat in it. You smiled at the memory as you ran your hand over its intricate details carved into it by some students in the other art classes.

“I think you are in the wrong place,” you practically jumped out of your skin at the voice turning to see the boy leaning against the door to the theatre. “Unless Hawkins High Theatre Star has a sudden interest in the intricate world that is Dungeons and Dragons.”

“So that’s what this is,” you said, mostly to yourself, as you glanced back at the board, before looking back up towards the boy. “I haven't seen one of these boards in forever.”

“I was joking… you play?” he asked, the look of clear confusion on his face and in his voice as he made his way towards the stage.

“Yeah, well, I used to,” you explained, rolling one of the dice around in your hand. “My cousin is like the biggest nerd on the planet and used to bring his board over during Christmas dinner and make all our cousins play a small campaign. I was always an elf princess named Samantha who was tired of her life of royalty. They stopped coming after everything started happening in Hawkins these past couple of years.”

“An elf princess?” a stifled laugh following his words.

“Hey! I thought it was cool at the time,” you countered, a smile growing on your face you hadn't even registered until that moment. “We thought we were so cool. I mean, it was cool, making up stories and pretending to be different people for a little bit. My mind was blown!”

The boy had this sort of awestricken look on his face when you looked up at him, some sort of trance that had caught his tongue in his mouth as he just stared. You were never too great at eye contact, averting your gaze back to the board.

“I didn’t know there was a D&D club,” you added, trying to break the growing tension in the theatre.

“Yeah, uh, yeah last one before the break,” The trance was finally broken, and yet the tension did not leave, remaining like a thick blanket over the two of you. “You interested?”

“What?”

“Well, I just thought that you were here because-”

“Oh! Oh no, I just, I thought we had a rehearsal today. I guess I was wrong…just a mix-up,” not a single person would be able to miss the way in which the boy seemed to deflate.

“Oh, yeah, no duh,” he said, trying to straighten himself up, running a hand through his unruly hair. You couldn’t help but notice how it fit him so well. “I forgot the spring play was coming up.”

“You know about it?” you asked, now your turn to be surprised. No one really cared about the shows, too busy at sporting events or whatever they deemed more important and enjoyable on their weekends. You guess you didn’t really blame them. “I guess I just don’t know a lot people who actually care to keep up with that sort of thing.”

“I mean, Dungeons and Dragons isn’t so different from theatre,” he offered, though even he looked uncertain by his explanation, your eyebrow quirking at his comment as he continued. “You play a character, tell a story, escape the real world outside for a while as you pretend to be someone else entirely, you know?”

Silence met the room, “Was that as stupid as I thought it sounded?”

“No!” you almost yelled, before taking a deep breath. “No, it made sense. You're right, they aren’t that different. Maybe that’s why I liked it so much?”

Another silence fell over the room as if you two had run out of things to say. You didn’t, you just weren’t sure what to say next. He was funny and interesting, and a little odd but in a charming kind of way. You had seen him before, always trying to piss the basketball team off in the cafeteria, or had heard the rumors of the drugs he had been selling to some kid in your show. Or at the middle school talent show with his band, him absolutely shredding his guitar like there was tomorrow, and he wasn't just in the cafeteria. He was different, different than what growing up in Hawkins usually produced and that’s what interested you most of all.

“You were the girl who did the Shakespeare monologue at the middle school talent show, weren't you?” He spoke up, as if it was a question he had been waiting to ask, one that caught you off guard. You had hoped everyone forgot, you knew everyone hadn't, and you got made fun of it for weeks after. While some kids danced or sang or played piano, you had decided to do a reciting of a monologue from Shakespeare's, Othello. “You remember that?” you had to ask, running a hand over your face, a grain escaping you, unable to look at the boy in front of you.

“How could I not, you were-”

“Bad, embarrassing, a little too passionate about Shakespeare?”

“No,” he said, all amusement leaving his face for a slight second as if he was serious. “No, you were good. Not many seventh graders can say they understand Shakespeare. And I mean, I had no idea what you were saying, but I could tell you did… and I thought that was cool, defiantly different. Like you were speaking some entirely different language.”

“Then let them use us well: else let them know, The ills we do, their ills instruct us so,” you mockingly recited in your worst Shakespearian accent. “I am never living that down am I?”

“Probably not,” he admitted honestly.

“My fault for thinking the students at Hawkins Middle would be interested in a Shakespeare monologue,” a laugh escaping you at how ridiculous it sounded. “My mom did not do me any justice by encouraging it. But thank you, for you know, thinking it was good.”

“Just being honest,” he said. “I mean, you're still like crazy talented! I see like all the shows.”

And you were once again caught off guard, surprised, you needed to start keeping track of how many times it would happen within the time with the boy, “You do?”

“Shit, that sounds weird, I didn't mean it-”

“No, no it's sweet, I just didn’t think it really was your scene,” your turn to interrupt him.

“Kinda comes with the whole terms and conditions of using this room,” he explained. “Your teacher said we could use it if I came and saw all the shows with the club…no one else really would let us use their space so I just agreed.”

“That sounds like her,” you laughed, your drama teacher was the definition of what came to mind when one thought of a drama teacher. And any chance she could talk someone into seeing the shows, even if it was slightly against their will, she would.

“They are good though, so I don’t really mind,” he said. “What’s the next one? The one you had rehearsal for?”

“Oh, uh it's this modern take on, “As You Like It” by William Shakespeare, set in a roller skating rink and everyone is on skates,” you sounded crazy saying it, he stared in some sort of amusement that he wasn't sure if he could openly express. “You can laugh, it's weird, I know.”

“Let's just say my curiosity is piqued,” he admitted. “I'm interested, a little confused, maybe the tiniest concerned, but interested. Got a preview for me?”

A laugh involuntarily escaped you as he lounged back into the throne, kicking his legs up onto the table. Gesturing his hand towards the middle of the stage for you to begin, you hesitated for a second before realizing he was not joking. Or maybe he was, waiting to humiliate you for something you loved, but he was not that kind of person, you knew that from the minute he walked into the room.

“Okay, uh, let me think,” you thought, searching your mind for any singular line from the show, and with a deep breath you started, never having had someone other than your theatre watch you so closely, so unrehearsed. “Me believe it? You may as soon make her that you love believe it, which I warrant she is apter to do than to confess she does. That is one of the points in the which women still give the lie to their consciences. But, in good sooth, are you he that hangs the verses on the trees wherein Rosalind is so admired?”

And before you could start again he began to speak, and you were caught off guard… again, “I swear to thee, youth, by the white hand of Rosalind, I am that he, that unfortunate he.”

“What are you doing-”

“I am pretty sure that’s not the next line,” he cut in. “I thought you were the expert?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, not entirely sure what was happening, but a giddy kind of churning had not stopped in your stomach and it took more power than you would ever like to admit to suppress the growing smile on your face.

So you continued, albeit hesitantly, “​​But are you so much in love as your rhymes speak?”

“Neither rhyme nor reason can express how much.”

“Love is merely a madness” you finished, as he began to clap, a slow dramatic kind of clap, you playing along taking a few bows. “You know Shakespeare? Like really know Shakespeare?”

“I don’t know, some girl in my middle school talent show got me kinda interested,” he said as if it was something one could say so nonchalantly. “I dabble here and there. A little bit of comedy, a few tragedies in there.”

You just smiled, you couldn’t help it, it was impossible to stop. “You are good! Oh my gosh!”

“Hey hey, I am not that good,” he tried to counter.

“Yes, you are! You should audition or something you would be insane,” you continued. “My teacher would love you, we have-”

“I don’t know if that’s really my scene,” he stopped you, standing from the chair and making his way over to you. “I am more of an audience kind of guy. Where you, you are like made for that stage, I mean look at you, you probably have the whole audience in love with you in the first few seconds.”

“Shut up,” you groaned out.

“What? I mean it! I mean, ‘Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?’, right?” he quoted, like it was second nature.

“Yeah, yeah I guess so,” you replied at a sort of loss for words, a smile shared between the two of you, a soft one, one of mutual understanding.

The sound of voices coming from down the hall woke you both from whatever Shakespearean trance had caught hold of you.

“I should probably get going, your club is starting soon I am guessing,” you speak up, looking anywhere else but the boy. “Thanks for sharing your knowledge of Shakespeare with another Shakespeare lover.”

“Yeah, anytime,” he replied, a soft smile still covering his face, as you grabbed your stuff and began to walk out back through the audience of the auditorium.

“Hey!” he called, causing you to turn around. “We are missing one of our players tonight if you, you know, wanted to give D&D a try again?”

“Oh, I don’t know, I haven’t played in a long time, I wouldn’t want to hold you guys back-”

“They won’t be here for a while, I wouldn’t mind teaching you,” he offered. “Give you a little crash course. You know I am pretty knowledgeable about things other than Shakespeare as well? We could revamp Samantha the elf princess? What’d you say?”

You stifled a laugh, shaking your head in disbelief at yourself and where you had ended up that Friday night, shrugging, “Okay!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you said with a smile, throwing your backpack into one of the auditorium chairs, and racing back up to the stage.

[heartburriedinvenice]

i NEED a part 2 to next week omg i love it

guys you are tempting me… you are tempting me so much-

[heartburriedinvenice]

literally crying, sobbing, rolling across the floor, kicking my feet and shit!! you all are so nice thank you! mwah mwah mwah love you all and happy to provide all the stranger things fics after season 4 came out <33

TO CRUMBLE AND FALL  steve harrington x reader

▬ in which the great king steve harrington finally crumbles and falls the minute you do. 

warning : angsty angst, oops, sorry not sorry! okay, but more seriously, talk of explosions, death, blood and injuries, mild cursing. ( that should be all, but please let me know if i missed anything! )

word count : 1.2k

a/n: welcome back to me making myself sad with my writing, enjoy the angst kiddos!

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