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@inkheartedwanderer
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evie - 20s - she/her
welcome!
masterlist
if I say “I’m gonna update my fic and post the new chapter soon,” please know that “soon” could either mean today or 2035
stranger things forever
“how do you write again after a long break?” you just start. that’s the horror of it. you just. start. and then the story opens its eyes.
“omg you’re so creative. how do you get your ideas” i hallucinate a single scene in the taco bell drive thru and then spend 13 months trying to write it
Guys I promise I'm not dead I haven’t stopped writing I'm just in a block
hi
First of all -thanks for all the likes and reblogs and follows I'm still getting.
I haven't forgotten about this blog and I haven't stopped writing. I'm just incredibly busy with my studies rn and I don't have much time.
Leaving this here just in case anyone stumbles upon it. I'll be back sonner than later, I promise.
Thanks, much love.
should i start writing regularly for the breakfast club too? 👁👄👁👉🏻👈🏻
hold the sun || r.b.
robin x fem!reader (obvs!)
content: fluff! a lil bit insecure robin (blink and you’ll miss it) and that’s all i believe. happy pride everyone! i’m a bit late, but i want guys to know this is a safe place for you. i see you, i hear you and i love you.
this one didn’t turn out exactly how i wanted it to, but hope i made robin some justice, she’s my favourite girl and i want to start writing for her too.
word count: 1.1k
In the quiet of a particularly hot summer afternoon, the only things you can hear are the water of the lake softly kissing the shore a few feet ahead of you, the shrill singing of cicadas, and Robin's low, mindless humming.
The sunlight paints swirls on the back of your closed eyelids, it makes the skin on your cheeks tingle, and you know you’re probably going to get sunburnt, but you can’t be bothered to get up, walk all the way back to the car and try to find your yellow hat.
You don’t want to move. Robin’s leg is casually thrown over yours as the girl lies by your side on the blanket, and you would feel embarrassed about how fast your heart is racing if your brain didn’t feel so mushy right now.
You’re not even sure she’s doing it on purpose. Shielding your face from the sun with your arm, you open one eye, nose scrunched up, and sneak a peek at Robin.
She looks lovely in her navy blue swimsuit, the one she bought the day you two decided to go shopping after work.
Her hair, still damp from your swim at the lake after lunch, shines like gold in the daylight and sticks to her bare shoulder and back creating patterns you feel the sudden urge to trace with your finger. You don’t. Instead, you settle for looking at her as discreetly as you can.
Freckled nose and long lashes, a slight tan from all the afternoons you've spent just like this one, far away enough from Hawkins, in your secret spot by Lake Jordan. Remnants of her mascara smudged around her eyes. Fingernails painted red.
She’s drawing something on her sketchpad, her strokes short and certain, lips pursed in concentration; absentmindedly singing a The Cure tune under her breath.
things i’ve done while i was away
just in case anyone cares.
a tally on the left || s.h.
in which the most embarrassing moment of steve’s life leads him to you.
steve x fem!reader.
content: tacky leotards, steve in a crop-top, a fitness class. summer of ‘85, instant crush, girly reader (kinda). not very good i’m sorry :( more steve-centric than reader-centric
word count: 4.2k
Steve Harrington never thought the most humiliating moment of his life would come at the hands of two fifteen-year-old girls. Pleading doe eyes, empty promises of never ever bothering him ever again and his own goodwill to blame, he agreed with barely a qualm, just a deep sigh followed by El’s skinny arms around his torso and a less vehement than usual pat on the back from Max.
If he had known what he was really getting into, he wouldn’t have acceded so fast.
It’s times like this, when he’s standing in the middle of the Starcourt Mall parking lot in very short shorts and a fucking crop top -courtesy of a very amused Dustin, and that he’s wearing god knows why-, that he deeply regrets having a soft spot for the kids.
Leaning against his car, hands on his hips and duffle gym bag on the concrete by his feet, Steve waits for El and Max to get out of the vehicle with their backpacks. He’s not exactly sure why Max wants to do this in the first place, it seems precisely like the type of activity she would hate, from the outfits down to the music; but El is very excited, has been since they asked the boy to tag along a few days ago, and has apparently talked Hopper’s ear off about it to a point of near madness.
“Okay,” Steve claps his hands and motions for the girls to get closer, “here’s the plan. We walk in fast, get over with this batshit insane idea of yours, and dip. Clear?”
While El is agreeable and nods, Max rolls her eyes, a smug smile gracing her lips. Steve raises a questioning eyebrow and she snorts, “I can’t take you seriously while you’re wearing that.” Her eyes travel up and down his body, settling on the dark hair that covers his abdomen.
It’s remarkably awkward to be ogled by a child. “It was the only clean t-shirt I had left.” Steve tugs at the end of his top, a muted blue monstrosity that he will burn as soon as he gets home, and pinches the bridge of his nose with two fingers, eyes closed, willing himself to breathe deep and be a supportive friend. Babysitter. Whatever. “Let’s just do this, okay?”
El squeals with joy and laces her arm through Max’s, the girls leading the way towards the mall in their bright, colourful attires and matching leg warmers. They whisper with each other, heads close, their giggles reaching Steve, who’s a few feet behind thanking whoever was in charge of this whole mess for scheduling it so early that the parking lot is virtually empty.
We need an adult, they’d said, no one else is free. He can pinpoint now, as he replays the conversation in his head, all the times he could’ve said no. But he didn’t, because he’s an idiot (a good friend if he says so himself, but an idiot nonetheless); and now he’s crossing the upper level of Starcourt in the dead of summer, peak season in full swing, about to spend his morning doing aerobics.
hi good luck in your exam!!! hopefully everything works out for you!! sending you my best thoughts <3
Omg thank you so much!! 🥹🥰 this is so sweet, thanks 💖🫂🌷
Happy New Year everyone! I have a super important exam on Saturday (so I can hopefully get a job and all that jazz) and that’s why I’ve been MIA for a few weeks. I have some stories in the works though, and I can’t wait to write again once I’m done!
what friends are for || the breakfast club
tbc x reader // mostly allison and brian bc losers unite (platonic!)
content: a small snippet of monday morning after detention.
word count: 2.3k
“I don’t have any friends…”
“Well, if you did?”
“No… I don’t think the kind of friends I’d have would mind…”
Allison’s words resonate in your brain as you walk up the stairs and into the busy entrance of Shermer High School on Monday, March 26th, 1984. Waves of people swarm around you, as you make your way towards your locker, down the hall and to the right; the buzz of the early morning ringing in your ears like the static from the broken radio of your car. It’s a stark contrast to the emptiness these same corridors held just two days ago, and it almost feels like Saturday was a fever dream, hazy and overwhelming.
But everything that went down on Saturday was real -the screaming and the crying, the accusations and the confessions. The bonding. The fleeting illusion of a budding friendship with five other kids, all of you so different from one another, but so similar in one too many ways, all of you broken and lost. A part of you wants things to go back to normal, ignore the people that now know too much about you, more than anyone else ever has. Another part of you, a corner of your heart, small but pulsating like an open wound, wants to prove Claire wrong, prove her that the perfectly constructed social hierarchy of Shermer High means nothing if you just try.
You don’t have as much to lose as Andy or Claire herself, but you don’t have as much to gain as Brian, Allison, or even Bender, either. People know you. People like you. You’re nice. Or you were, before you punched your best… ex-best friend right in the eye (and right in front of a teacher). But she had it coming, after her continuous not-so-subtle snide remarks about your problems at home that morning, the reason why you try so hard to be a good student, a good person, even if you slip from time to time.
Your white sneakers squeak against the linoleum floor when you turn around the corner and the first thing you see is her in front of her open locker, applying concealer above her cheekbone with gentle pats of her middle finger; she’s surrounded by the other girls in your group, who are loudly asking her about the bruise that adorns her pale face. She won’t tell anyone it was you and you know it, but you’re unsure she’ll let you come near her and your friends anymore. Her eyes meet yours and her face hardens in a second. It’s obvious you’re not welcome. You would care, but it’s not her you are actually looking for.
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For some reason this one has been getting a lot of notes lately! Thank you all so much for your kind words, likes and reblogs 🥹💖 This story was 100% a passion project to fill a little gap in my heart a few months ago and I’m super happy people like it.
Please come chat about TBC with me I need to find my people
hello there :)
I just wanted to say a big thank you to everyone who's reblogged and liked my latest story and to everyone who's decided to follow the blog (and welcome!)
This is a side blog so I can't reply to comments, but I see them all and I'm eternally grateful for you guys taking your time to read and for saying such kind things 🥺❤️🩹🌷🫂
(Also know that I'm always writing, but my studies are my priority rn)
please, let me get what i want || e.m.
(lord knows it would be the first time)
in which the wounds of the heart hurt more than those of the flesh, but they’re easier to fix
based on this song
eddie x reader.
content: post S4 (super minor spoilers), eddie survives, mentions of death and blood, this is mostly eddie’s headspace, i guess? pining, jealousy and insecurities. i just really want to give this guy a hug.
word count: 3k
Eddie Munson doesn’t consider himself a religious person. He’s dealt with too much shit in his short life to really care about whether there’s a higher power somewhere in the universe or not. If anything, he’d say he’s always been left to his own devices, so fuck whoever’s supposed to be looking after him. Theological matters are not something he’s ever been particularly concerned about, anyways.
Having spent the last ten days bound to a hospital bed, however, Eddie’s had plenty of time to reflect on his pathetic existence and the string of unfortunate events that have led him to this situation. In these ten days, he’s thought about his parents more often than he has in the last ten years -his father leaving for good after being in and out of prison for months, his mother’s untimely passing when he was too young to understand she was never coming back, and the sharp pain that floods his chest if he dwells on the thought of them for too long. He’s thought about Wayne, constantly taking extra shifts at the plant so he could put food on the table, and how he’s repaid him by failing senior year once, and then a second time. A triple-senior loser drug dealer, always being too much -too loud, too weird, too freakish-, but never enough. Not attractive enough, not smart enough, definitely not rich enough.
He’s also thought about death, and how closely he tasted it. The harrowing tangibility of his own mortality, sticking to his skin until he was coated in it, until he couldn’t breathe, washing over him like a tidal wave. He’s thought about Chrissy, and Patrick, and Nancy’s friend Fred, who weren’t as lucky as him. About how scared he was when Dustin found him, choking on his own blood, scared of dying, of dying alone, scared of what was waiting for him, scared that he wasn’t seeing any holy light amidst the darkness and he was supposed to, right?
And all he feels right now is guilt, because he’s thought about all of that and still, the main object of his musings the last ten days has been you. That’s why he’s considering that surely there must be some kind of deity, that there must be a heaven somewhere, because you’re an angel.
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Wow! This was so beautiful! The way you write is exquisite! I love this so so much! Everything about it is so tender and honest and I’m so glad I got to read it! Thank you for sharing your writing with us!
Thank you for reading and your kind words 🥹💖