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magicalmysteries777 · 3 months

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The Shire Is Burning - Chapter 14.

Summary: Trying to navigate problems like growing up as a teen in the 80s in a new town can be tough enough without taking things like being on the run for faulty murder charges, alternate dimensions, and a psychopath with powers that's hellbent on revenge into account. Can Lilith do enough to help her new friends save everyone from Vecna? Or at the very least... just one person?

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Original Female Character.

Contents: Swearing, smoking, drug use, eventual smut, and canon typical violence mentioned throughout. Minors DNI.

Chapter: 14 of ?

Chapter Masterlist: Here.

WC: 1644.

A/N: I am currently in the process of re-writing this abandoned wip from last year so I can move onto new projects without feeling guilty. Enjoy ❤️

March 25th, 1986.

They ran as fast and far as their legs would carry them without stopping to look back or regain their breath. Lilith could barely see three feet in front of her but she didn’t care. She wouldn’t stop. Her heartbeat thudded louder and faster in her ear than it ever had before as the trees flashed by in a blur. At present, they had no destination in mind other than deep into the woods from what she could tell.

Whether minutes or hours had passed she wasn’t quite sure, but she knew she couldn’t go on for much longer. She was just about to call out to tell Eddie to slow down when his arm collided with her stomach, knocking all the air out of her and sending her tumbling backward onto the floor. Lilith landed with a thud while she clutched at her stomach, trying desperately to control her now panicked breathing.

“Oh, shit, sorry,” Eddie mumbled, offering her his outstretched hand.

“What the fuck, Munson?” she gasped, taking his hand and slowly making her way back onto her feet.

“Complete accident, I didn’t realise you were so close behind me. Anyway,” he began, trying to change the subject while avoiding Lilith’s glare, “I think we’re pretty close to skull rock. We can hang low there until morning and then come up with a plan; right now we both need sleep.”

Lilith followed obediently as they took a steadier approach to their destination. Now that her heartbeat had calmed back down the sounds coming from the woods filled her ears. Although the woods they found themselves in looked empty they were quite the opposite. Signs of life could be found all around. She could hear squirrels rusting in the trees, owls were hooting in the distance, and at one point she was pretty sure she could see a doe off in the distance where the dim moonlight was shining through a gap in the leaves of the trees. The calmness that the woods were offering were a vast difference to the events them led them to this moment.

“Here we are,” Eddie told her, his arms outstretched to gesture the gigantic rock before them. Lilith walked over, leaned against the rock, and slid down it, finally allowing herself to rest. If Lilith had to guess it was the early hours of the morning now; the air was cold and crisp, leaving her with a faint shiver. Eddie mimicked her actions and joined her on the floor.

“You okay?” Eddie whispered.

“I think so. You?” she whispered back.

“I…” he began, in a whisper so quiet that Lilith barely even heard it. Lilith turned to face him. The moonlight was reflecting in his big, brown eyes allowing her to see the tears forming that he was trying so hard to fight.

“It’s okay if you’re scared, you know? I am too…” she admitted. For a brief second she saw a tear roll down Eddie’s cheek before he quickly wiped it away and let out a cough.

“You’re shivering, Henderson,” he stated in an attempt to change the subject.

“Noted, Munson. It’s, like, one in the morning and we’re half way through March; it’s fucking freezing,” she retorted.

Eddie slipped off his leather jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders without saying a word. Lilith put the jacket on properly and fiddled with the pins and badges attached to the denim vest he wore over the jacket.

“Thanks,” she muttered.

"S'okay. It suits you. Not as much as me though, obviously,” he smirked.

“Of course. How could I ever compare to such radiant beauty?” she retorted, a smirk growing on her face too.

“Was that a compliment, Henderson? You’re going soft on me.”

“Don’t count your chickens before they hatch.”

“You can’t stay mad at me forever, you know that right?” Eddie asked.

“Shall we bet on it? You like those,” she asked with a straight face.

“Oh ha-ha. Very funny. I’m sorry, alright? I shouldn’t have made the counter bet,” he apologized.

“Apology not accepted, but it’s a start,” she smirked.

“How many times are you going to make me apologize?” he asked, laughing.

“Not sure yet. Until I’m not annoyed at you, I guess, but we could be here forever if that’s the case,” she grinned wickedly.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

“It’s getting there. Anyway, you changed the subject. Are you okay?” she asked.

“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be fine? I mean… it’s just a psycho, evil, murderous monster from an alternate dimension ruining my entire life,” he stated, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards into a smile while his eyes glossed over with tears again.

“Cut the crap,” she laughed.

“Of course I’m not okay. I’m fucking terrified. I don’t know what’s scarier; Vecna, the fact that I could be going to jail for the rest of my life, or the fact that my life is in the hands of your shrimp of a cousin and Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington,” he admitted, burying his face in his hands.

“Probably the whole relying on Dustin part,” Lilith told him. Eddie lowered his hands and looked at Lilith, his head titled.

“I thought you were trying to help?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“I am but there’s no point in lying to you, is there?” she answered. “This entire situation is fucking bonkers and I honestly have no idea how we even got here. It’s just been one big blur, you know? But they do seem to know what they’re talking about.”

“You understood any of that? All I heard was super powers, monsters, and Russians,” Eddie laughed.

“We’re going to be okay, Eddie,” she told him, her tone more serious now.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” he sighed.

“Would I lie to you?” Lilith asked. Eddie didn’t reply with words but took Lilith’s hand in his and squeezed it gently. “If it’s any consolation to you, Munson, you’re not the worst person to be on the run with.”

“I’m the freak, remember? How is that not the worst person to be on the run with?” he asked.

“You, Eddie Munson, are no freak. Misunderstood? Definitely. Freak? No,” she told him.

The pair sat in silence for a few minutes before Eddie turned to face Lilith. “You knew, didn’t you?” he asked tentatively.

“What?” she asked in return, confused.

“Patrick. You knew, didn’t you? That something was about to happen? I saw your face… I’ve seen that look a few times now. The night Chrissy died and every morning when you wake up,” he said seriously.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Munson. I just-” Lilith began..

“Cut the bullshit, Henderson. I know you’re lying; just tell me the truth. What happened back there?” he asked, eyes wide as they pierced her.

“I… I felt him.” she admitted.

“Him?” Eddie asked.

“I’ve been hearing… someone… in my nightmares. I think it’s Vecna,” she thought aloud.

“What was he saying?” he asked, probing for more information.

“Warnings mostly, at first. ‘I’m coming’, ‘you can’t save her’, ‘you can’t save them’, ‘I’m coming for you all’, it’s starting to make a bit more sense now. Now he keeps telling me to remember and something about being the catalyst. That’s not all though,” she continued, glancing towards Eddie to make sure he was still listening, “he showed me Chrissy the night she…you know. Over and over again. Then, he showed me what he looks like,” she whispered.

“What… What does he look like?” Eddie wondered.

“Awful. Tall, covered in tentacle-type things, long creepy hands and fingers,” she listed. She paused for a few seconds, picking at the skin around her fingernails. “The worst part is the way I can always sense him before he shows himself. The feeling of absolute dread. Stomaching churning, a shiver running down my spine, every hair on my body standing on end… That’s what I felt earlier when we were in the boat. That was when I knew,” she admitted.

Eddie stared at her without saying a word, numerous expressions flashing across his face as he internally processed all of the information that Lilith had just unloaded onto him; eventually, he spoke.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, “Or Robin? Or Steve? Or even little Henderson?”

“I thought they were just nightmares. I didn’t think for a minute any of it could be…” her voice trailed off, the realization only just beginning to kick in.

“We’ve got to tell Dustin and the others about this,” he instructed.

“You can’t, please, promise me you won’t. What if I’m next?” she pleaded.

“Henderson…” he began, looking at her again with his big, brown eyes that were saying more at that moment than what his mouth was. Deep down she knew that he was right.

“How though? The walkie got soaked back at Rick’s.”

“Shit. You’ve got a point,” he said, his tongue poking out as he began to rack his brain for ideas.

“We’ll have to get another one. I’ll go out in the morning-” she began before Eddie cut her off.

“Like Hell you will,” he protested.

“Don’t argue with me on this. There’s not as many people out there looking for me than there are looking for you,” Lilith explained.

“I don’t care,” he argued back, “I’m not letting anything happen to you.”

“Listen, Munson-”

“No. You listen, Henderson. I promised your cousin I’d look after you and that includes not letting you take any unnecessary risks. I am going, end of story.”

Lilith let out a stifled yawn, the adrenaline rush from earlier now fully worn off had left her feeling exhausted. Eddie wrapped his arm around her and pulled her head into his lap. “Don’t argue, just go to sleep,” he instructed before she could say a word in protest.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson x fem oc #eddie munson smut #stranger things #stranger things 4 #st4 #stranger things fic #fanfic #the shire is burning #tsib

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blowjob-horseguy · 2 years

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I think if I had a friend who I had to bring back from the brink of death, fill his lungs with my own air bc he couldn't breath on his own, and he said "I'm not gonna die in the next 10 minutes" like it was obvious I would slap him. I would slap him very very hard in the face. Steve Harrington is stronger than me

#tsib #steddie

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whatevertheweather · 2 years

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✨Dead Darlings✨

Well, I’m late to this party (she says about everything she does, ever), but I’m so glad you tagged me @you-remind-me-of-the-babe because I was planning on sharing some deleted scenes for a WIP day soon. And now here we are, on a WIP day with the perfect tag game.

Buckle up, because I kill all kinds of darlings, and rarely do I bury them.

To start, I have just had the pleasure of looking at the document I threw deleted Bite Me bits into and finding a whole lot of pieces I do not remember writing at all.

Baz employs the hum he uses to subliminally convince people they’re off their fucking rocker. As someone already half off his rocker, it does not deter Snow. -- “D’you need anything?” he asks suddenly. Baz makes a vague sound without looking at him, and Simon reaches over to hold the bottle right in front of his face. “Some water?” He stretches his arm a bit farther. “A snack?” The laugh that comes out of Baz is something Simon’s never heard before. Surprised, alarmed, uncontrolled. “Crowley, Snow,” he says, shoving Simon’s arm down and out of his face. Simon is laughing as he slips it out of his grasp to offer it up again, and they fumble, batting hands and knocking forearms until Baz gets his fingers on Simon’s wrist and pushes it down. Simon twists his hand around and catches Baz in return. He’s all smile and fangs, just like when Penny cast her spell. Simon watches from the corner of his eyes while that laughter evens out, idly prodding Baz’s fingers with his own as he waits. When the laugh has become a sigh, a shaken head, Simon knocks his shoulder into Baz’s. “I’m serious.” “I fucking know you are,” Baz says, the last of his smile easing away without any rush. “I just don’t know why.” “Makes sense, don’t you think?” Simon shrugs, arm shifting against his. “For us.” Baz shakes his head, but Simon doesn’t think he means it to be an answer. He’s looking at their hands. Simon’s caught a few of his fingers, idly pinching the tips of his pointer then middle then ring. He’s not sure why, except that he likes Baz’s hands, callused and soft at once, and Baz isn’t pulling away. -- “Do you like it better here?” Simon blurts. “Than Watford?” “Of course not,” Baz says, and Simon looks at him. He’s leaning all kinds of calmly against his gargoyle-y bedpost, looking at him like he’s just asked if he likes listening to nails on a chalkboard more than the sound of his violin. “Crowley, Snow, my father just spent two hours not looking at me so he wouldn’t have to see my fangs.” “That was a bit shit of him,” Simon says. Baz shifts against the post, looking at his arms as he folds them like it takes all of his attention. “His heir is a vampire. You can’t expect him to be thrilled.” Simon thinks he could expect him to get over himself.

“Go to sleep,” Baz says. “You’re on my bed.” “You’re on my bed.” Simon looks at Baz’s bed. “D’you wanna just—” Baz stands up abruptly. He crosses the tiny distance, stares down at Simon, and Simon looks blankly up at him. Baz lifts his arm in an imperious gesture towards Simon’s bed, and Simon sighs. He moves over to his own bed.

And Archery 101. Because I love disaster!Baz, but this broke the tension at the wrong moment.

He wasn’t ready for this. “Can’t get caught” featured in his fantasies, obviously, but it was one of the indulgent ones. The far-fetched ones. It had too many prerequisites. Simon would have to want him desperately, and this resort would have to have explicit contractual agreements against dallying with guests, and there couldn’t be any rooms available, and Simon’s living quarters would have to be out of bounds, and then they would have to sneak around the grounds, but they wouldn’t be able to keep their hands off each other, and they’d end up right there on the lawn, and maybe the sprinklers would go off, and—

Maybe he was actually very ready for this. Overprepared, even. Possibly jumping the gun, in fact. Because this isn’t a fantasy. This is actually happening. This is the man Baz has been craving carnally for the last nine days, telling him he would like to be had carnally, but he can’t.

Now we come to an unpublished, possibly-probably-never-going-to-happen AU. For which I could add oh so many more cut scenes, but we’ll keep it to this until I decide they’re for sure never going to happen.

It’s just…Simon knows the face Baz makes when he gets brain freeze. He knows the shape of his mouth when he’s concentrating. He knows the black fan of his lashes when his eyes are squeezed up in laughter.

Simon knows Baz every which way he’s ever been.

He’s known him as a tetchy teenager taking Simon’s bullshit in stride. He’s known him as an idiot smashing plates with him when Simon was sure he wouldn’t survive another day in a care home. He’s known him as a boy crying in Simon’s lap when his parents got divorced. He’s known him as a lifeline that never snapped no matter what either of them was fighting. He’s known him as a friend, with every laugh and rant and shout that word can hold.

Simon knows him like he knows himself.

This is already so long. It will get so much longer and moderately spicier under the cut.

From The Smokescreen, a few odds and ends, and one larger bit that did, in part, get repurposed into another scene.

“If you’re not confessing, then I don’t want to look at you,” Simon said.

“That’s not what I hear,” Baz purred. “What is it, six photos of me in your office?”

His smile was sharp. Simon thought it might’ve been worth cutting his fist on.

“You don’t have to outsource, Inspector,” Baz added, palms turned up and arms open, looking through his lashes in exaggerated humility. “I’d be happy to pose for you.”

“He can stand outside the courthouse pissing on my car and I can’t fucking do anything about it!”

“What—did he piss on your car?” she asked.

“No,” Simon said impatiently, “but he could have done!”

“I do wonder what you think will come of this, Inspector. So many witnesses,” Baz mused. His eyes danced over his face, took the measure of him and looked up again. “What do you think they’ll say? I saw Inspector Salisbury at The Vein. I saw him threaten Baz Pitch.”

Simon gripped his hands into fists. He didn’t back down.

Baz stepped closer. His eyes were bright and sharp, the look of a predator toying with a meal. “I saw Inspector Salisbury have a drink with him.”

Simon’s jaw clenched, breath thick in his lungs. Of course he’d already been making himself a fucking alibi ten minutes ago. Baz tilted his head, swayed an inch closer.

“I saw Inspector Salisbury walk with him into a private hall,” he murmured, the tips of his fingers brushing Simon’s thumb. Simon yanked his hand away, and a smirk tugged at Baz’s mouth. He stepped forward until Simon had to step back. “I saw them having a smoke together.”

Simon’s back hit the wall, and Baz didn’t stop until the fabric of his shirt whispered against Simon’s coat. The music roared in his ears. His heartbeat roared under his skin.

Baz braced an arm beside his head. “I saw them having a chat.”

The toe of his shoe pressed against the arch of Simon’s. His hair fell against his cheek as he dipped his head, and Simon could barely see a smile sharp on the curve of his lips. His words were a breath on his jaw.

“I saw Baz Pitch pressing him against the wall.”

Baz pressed closer. Simon’s eyes fell closed as Baz dropped his head, nose brushing the shell of his ear. His breath was hot on the column of his throat, the rumble of his voice vibrating against his skin.

“I saw Baz Pitch with his mouth on his neck.”

It flashed through him like the shock of a frayed wire, raced down his chest, into his stomach. It shot out to his arms, tingled in his palm as he shoved Baz away from him.

Baz was grinning, a full display as he stumbled back; cheeks pushed up, eyes crinkled, the cords of his throat shifting with a laugh. “Afraid I’ll bite, Inspector?”

“Motive,” Baz said. “I have the means to fabricate evidence, I suppose. What motive do I have to bother?”

The answer was ready on Simon’s tongue, a truth more evident to him than nearly any other, though he couldn’t begin to justify it.

But it wasn’t his to justify.

“Me.”

Finally, Brazen. The first two are from what’s posted. There will definitely be more once the sequel is done, but alas, the sequel is not done, so we must make do with this one bit I know for sure won’t make the cut anyway.

“You’re a serial killer,” Baz says flatly. “You have an MO, and it’s a sword.”

Well, okay. Simon likes to think of his kills as decently random: committed all over town and on no particular schedule, no common denominators in his victims beyond a pull that’s intangible to anyone else. But Baz has him there. It has to be the sword.

“Short-sword.”

“Is that a sword in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?”

“Best hope it’s a sword, it’s in the wrong fuckin’ spot for anything else.”

He clapped a hand over Simon’s mouth and manhandled them into a supply closet, and then he pressed him against the closed door, fingers tight enough to bruise. Simon couldn’t see him, so he licked his palm.

Baz released him just enough to take his chin between his fingers, dragging a nail across Simon’s lip, and then he hooked his thumb over Simon’s bottom teeth and pressed down until his mouth opened. He leaned in, then, not close enough to touch, only close enough to taunt. He made Simon wait, let him strain, let him pant, and then he tipped forward in a rush of hot breath and desperate sound and dragged his tongue over the roof of Simon’s mouth.

And let him go.

Set every nerve on fire and left him to burn in it. Flicked on the light and hummed appreciatively at the shelves, like Simon wasn’t fucking gagging for it.

That’s as far back as we’ll venture today. So anyway. Gonna act like this counts as a SSS post and tag any and everyone.

@fatalfangirl @artsyunderstudy @cutestkilla @bookish-bogwitch @moodandmist @facewithoutheart @martsonmars @ivelovedhimthroughworse @whogaveyoupermission @basiltonbutliketheherb @captain-aralias @ionlydrinkhotwater @confused-bi-queer @ileadacharmedlife @aristocratic-otter @tea-brigade

#this got out of hand #does it count as getting out of hand if you knew it was going to get out of hand #gonna have to do a whole separate post for tsib at some point #anywho #my writing #goodbye

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carchariascarcharodon · 13 days

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interesting!

#i don't know how theatre licensing works BUT i would assume this means more tsib productions in the future #(assuming there's a few groups who will actually go get the license)#the shark is broken #jaws 1975 #fuck it main tag #i had little confidence in tsib ever returning to canada but maybe there's some hope yet .

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ghost-proofbaby · 9 months

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Did you name the neighbor Mr. Jenkins as a nod to Willow Jenkins in TSIB & SMII ???

i was waiting for someone to notice that one 😌🖤 i most certainly did!

#thank u ily <3 #rip quizilla <3 #it all connects reading all my writing is just running in circles

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brittanagirlcrush · 6 months

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I need to rant

So, feel free to totally ignore this but if I don't get this out I will continue obsessing and that's not getting me anywhere.

I'm a writer. Whether I'm good or not is up for debate - I think I am. I write stories I like to read and my grammar/spelling/mechanics are usually pretty good. I've had (mostly) positive feedback on my stories.

I have absolutely ZERO problem if you have a piece of constructive criticism for me. Something doesn't make sense? Something is problematic? I screwed up on the timeline? Cool, let me know. You have suggestions on what I could have done differently? Cool. I'm not saying I'll take these suggestions but I am 100% okay hearing them.

I end up ranting about non-constructive criticism. People who guest comment stuff that doesn't contribute to my growth as a writer or my understanding of a mistake I may have made.

Case in point:

Recently, someone commented about my handling of Santana's ED. Now, I left all of that intentionally vague (like, so vague I probably could have gotten away with not putting a TW for ED but I did so "just in case") for several reasons:

1) I'm not 100% behind the idea that Santana had an ED. I know that's not the prevailing opinion of the fandom but I am more of the opinion that Santana was body conscious (or self-conscious) but not to the point of an ED. I think, and this is simply my opinion, that the fandom locked onto Naya's ED and took whatever was in canon to bolster the opinion that Santana also had one. Yes, there is canonical evidence that Santana had an ED but there is also canonical evidence that she didn't.

B) I have some of my own issues with food and weight so I really didn't want to research and delve into ED. It was one (rather short) scene and I will never mention it again in any of my fics.

HOWEVER,

The person who commented was polite and articulate and I appreciated their criticism.

My only intent was Santana going from too thin/scrawny from poor diet and too much/the wrong kind of exercise to being healthy from eating a healthier diet and exercising more moderately. Thus, the change in her appearance. Working with a counselor was her way of working through all of Sue's brainwashing.

I just felt that Santana would have been self-conscious about gaining weight, not necessarily because of an ED, simply because of who she is and how she was raised.

So, if that commenter is reading this, thank you.

Now, onto the reason for this rant.

If you don't like a song, cool, I get that. Not everyone is going to like every song. Telling me it's a terrible song and seems like my song choices were self-indulgent; not helpful.

Also, Santana sang "She's Mine" ... a country song from 1987 ... I don't think "(Everything I Do) I Do It For You" ...

a number one hit for Bryan Adams (for 16 weeks) in 1991, was featured in the movie Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves,

Oh, wait ... it was also released by Brandy in 1998 on her album Never Say Never (which also featured The Boy Is Mine with Monica - you remember that song, right? Santana and Mercedes sang it together in Season 1) ...

is really that much of a stretch to think Santana MAY know that song.

Whether it's a terrible song or not is debatable.

For the record; most of my song choices end up being totally random.

Saying my writing is "ableist" ... not helpful. I had to look up ableist. Then I had to re-read my fic. And I still have no idea what that comment meant. How was it ableist?

Onto the comment that kind of made me scratch my head:

"The dialog (especially from brittany) reads like a tumblr rant and not at all like natural human speech"

It was a review for The Spaces In Between. I re-read my fic and, I am unsure if the person meant ALL of the dialogue or just Brittany's rant in the last chapter. I will be the first to admit that sometimes I get the voices wrong. But I thought I did okay with TSIB.

If it's just Brittany's rant in the last chapter, then it was exactly what I wanted it to be. A rant. A word vomiting rant of epic proportions. Because Brittany was pissed. Look at her face in IKAG. She was angry and Brittany (oddly, much like myself) doesn't get angry. She gets annoyed or irritated, vents it quickly ("I do love you. Obviously you don't love you as much as I do or you would put on this shirt and dance with me!") and lets it go.

However, long fuses can still be lit. Brittany spent a good portion of Season 3 not talking to anyone but Santana (she even mentions it in Promasaurus). She was pissed and she bottled it up. For Santana. Because Santana needed her. But when those long fuses get lit they will, at some point, explode. The wrong thing, said by the wrong person, at the exact wrong moment and BOOM.

It's not supposed to be coherent and "natural human speech". It's not something Brittany does - Santana does insulting rants - Brittany doesn't. So, when it happens, it's not "natural"; it's angry and messy and very un-Brittany-like. (People are always surprised when I "go off" IRL because "that's just not like you").

Oddly, this "rant" isn't angry. It's annoyed. If you don't like my writing, don't read it. I (mostly) write for me but I know there are seven or ten people out there who enjoy my stuff so I write for them as well. If you have something constructive to say, I'm glad to hear it. If your only goal is to tear me (or, really, any fic writer) down for the sole purpose of upsetting me - I gotta wonder - who hurt you?

Ok. Now that I've vented my spleen about this nonsense, I can get back to my "real" writing.

Chasing the Dream isn't going to write itself (sadly).

#writing #personal rant #i'm over it

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rockthebauhaus · 7 months

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i was fortunate to see tsib last fall in my city but not the new broadway edition BUT DAMN MOM STOP TORTURING ME IN CLASS

#chief brody #matt hooper #jaws #robert shaw #jaws 1975 #quint jaws #alex brightman #ian shaw #colin donnell

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cad-iksodas-tsenre · 1 month

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tsib-vitimirp-dnu-mmud-uD-ssad-uz-biG

Gib zu, dass Du dumm und primitiv bist.

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binglebangledotcom · 3 months

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Newly coined term

TSIB

trans ppl who r siblings

TSIB and TNT... both are amazing

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steamcrew · 1 year

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Hey! Welcome to our writing blog!

We're Mantis + Jamie + Epitaph, and we're a queer DID system. We will not sign off on who's fronting.

Our url is from our story Steamcrew (working name), our header is from Magica (working name), and our icon is from Enemies and Lesbians.

We tag:

#epitaph speaks : a talk tag

#so many ocs : a tag for when we don't want to tag all of the ones we're thinking of

#ocs interaction : a funny post that could be two or more ocs

#[oc firstname] [story] : this is self explanatory

#[story] : also self explanatory. mainly steamcrew, currently, as this used to be a steamcrew blog only

#ask game : self explanatory

#writing : general writing stuff!

#ref : oh, you know, references

#others writing : not mine!

#inspo : inspiration!

We commonly create with our qpp Ark who's writing / oc blog is here

Trigger tags will be tagged like this: #[trigger]. Please ask if you need us to tag anything. We are very forgetful but we try our hardest to catch things!

PLEASE ask us for more information on stories if you're interested!

Below the cut is a list of stories we're working on!

A * delineates which stories we are working on with Ark

Original:

Steamcrew (working name, my baby and this blog's namesake! a found family steampunk story about how capitalism sucks in two acts) #steamcrew

Enemies and Lesbians (webcomic in it's rough draft stage about two queer kinky villains and trauma)* #enemies or lesbians, tagged on characters as eol

Cat Eats It's Own Tail (webcomic about cycles of trauma)* #cat eats its own tail, tagged on characters as #ceiot

Alice Refuses to Die (Android bunny boy Alice kills his father; where does he go from there?)* #alice refuses to die, tagged on characters as #ard

Gifted Kids (middle school supernatural horror)* #gifted kids, tagged on characters as #gk, @giftedkidsstory

Lavenderverse (working name, neo-1920s/Cold War setting. About a speakeasy that kills people)* #lavenderverse, tagged on characters as #lv

trans.D1V1N1TY (transgender technological horror) #v1rus

Casino Royale (nothing to say about this one, still in concept stages)* #casino royale, tagged on characters as #cr

Magica (working name, used to be a TMA au but is being reworked to fit a magical girl/boy cyperpunk setting about living under capitalism)* #magica

Cold War story (working name, Stranger Things if stranger things had continued to go on it's "america did shitty things during the cold war and capitalism is bad" thing)* #cold war story, tagged on characters as #cw

Monster story (working name, still in concept stage)* #monster story, tagged on characters as #ms

Root of Roses (this one is about family! and also about being a leader)* #root of roses, tagged on characters as #ror

Elves Plurality (working name, elves and plurality / systemhood) #plural elves, tagged on characters as #pe

Bonetumble (worldbuild practice and just plain old fun, I have no idea what I'm doing with this world!) #bonetumble

Sci-fi found family (working name, it's kinda in the name?) #sci fi found family, tagged on characters as sff

Sci-fi Rom-com (working name, about having severe mental illness and falling in love) #sci fi rom com, tagged on characters as #sfrc

Cringe Kids (working name (?), 3 scenemo high schoolers have so many things to worry about, like homework and ghost hunting) #cringe kids, tagged on characters as #ck

The Simulation- It's Breaking! (working name (?), something I started during my psychotic episode 2022-2023 to help cope with our delusions. Still a concept) #the simulation! its breaking, tagged on characters as #tsib

The Child Tyrant One (working name, what if the savior of the universe didn't want to kill that child tyrant?), #child tyrant, tagged on characters as #ct

Fandom:

It Seems Unforgiving When A Good Thing Ends (RE 8 monster!Ethan/Ethan lives au)* #isuwagte

Laurelverse (Starbound askblog)* #laurelverse, @laurelverses

#epitaph speaks

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new-haryanvi-ragni · 1 year

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Nepal Plane Crash: Singapore's Transport Safety Investigation Bureau to Analyse Black Box

Amidst the investigation of Yeti Airline’s flight 691, Nepal has requested Singapore’s TSIB to receive the black box and conduct further investigations. source https://zeenews.india.com/aviation/nepal-plane-crash-singapores-transport-safety-investigation-bureau-to-analyse-black-box-2566196.html

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magicalmysteries777 · 3 months

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The Shire Is Burning - Chapter 13.

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Original Female Character.

Contents: Swearing, smoking, drug use, eventual smut, and canon typical violence mentioned throughout. Minors DNI.

Chapter: 13 of ?

Chapter Masterlist: Here.

WC: 1812.

A/N: I am currently in the process of re-writing this abandoned wip from last year so I can move onto new projects without feeling guilty. Enjoy ❤️

March 25th, 1986.

When Lilith woke she was surprisingly calm, much to her surprise. She’d remembered having nightmares and yet she wasn’t crying or screaming. Her eyes opened slowly to adjust to the bright morning sun glaring into the room as she let out a deep yawn. It took her a few moments to realize that someone was stroking her hair. “Munson, what are you doing in here?” she asked, quickly sitting up and freeing herself from his grasp.

“You were screaming again but I managed to calm you down without waking you up… I didn’t know if you’d start again when I moved so I just stayed. I’ll go now if you want?” he asked sleepily.

“No, no. It’s okay. You stay, I’m going to go shower,” she told him before leaving the room.

Lilith entered the kitchen in search of food thirty minutes later. They were running low on supplies now. “Hey, Munson,” she called.

“Yeah?” he asked, appearing in the doorway a few seconds later.

“We’re almost out of food. You think we should try and get in touch with the kids again?” she asked.

“I’ll do that, you find something to eat,” he instructed.

She searched the cupboards high and low before finding two tins of spaghetti and sausages. It would have to do. The sound of Eddie’s voice echoed from the living room. “Hey, Dustin, this is ‘Eddie the Banished’. Dustin, can you hear me? Dustin? Earth to Dustin?”

“Hey, it’s Nancy.”

Lilith dropped the tins on the counter and ran to the living room, joining Eddie.

“Wheeler! Hey. Um, we’re going to need a food delivery, like, really soon, unless you want us going out into the world,” he told her.

“No. No, no, no. Don’t do that.”

“Listen um… Can you pick me up a six-pack? I know it’s stupid as shit drinking right now, but, a cold beer would really calm my jangled nerves,” he asked, trying to reason with her.

“Hey, I’m going to have to call you back.”

“No, don’t you da- Wheeler? Wheeler?!”

Eddie tossed the walkie-talkie back on the table, sulking.

“Cheer up, Munson. You’ll get your beer. Movie or cards?”

A quiet knock at the door distracted Lilith’s attention away from the pages of the book she had her nose buried inside.

“Hey,” Eddie said, softly.

“Hey. You okay?” she replied.

“Mhmm,” Eddie mumbled, standing in the doorway. He lingered for a few seconds, not saying anything else.

“You need something, Munson?” Lilith asked.

“I’m bored,” he said flatly.

�� “And since when is that my problem?” she asked, picking her book back up. Eddie walked over to the bed and flopped down onto it.

“Henderson,” he whinged.

“Oh my God, Munson, what?” she asked, putting the book back down.

“I’m bored,” he repeated.

“Yeah, you’ve said, what do you want me to do about it?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I need something to do,” he muttered, fiddling with the rings on his fingers. Lilith threw her book at him.

“Ow!” he said, picking it up. “Guessing you want me to read it, then?”

“Well I want to read but you won’t bloody shut up about being bored. If you want something to do so badly, read it to me. Then we both get what we want,” she told him, wriggling around to get comfy.

““I wish it need not have happened in my time,” said Frodo.

“So do I,” said Gandalf, “and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.””

Eddie read to her for over an hour doing a different voice for each character in the book, the same way he did whenever he played Dungeons & Dragons. Lilith couldn’t help but laugh any time he did his high-pitched Frodo voice. After a while, she stopped paying attention to the words coming out of his mouth and instead turned her focus towards him. The corners of his mouth were turned upwards in an infectious smile, one that Lilith noticed she couldn’t help but mirror.

A million questions were running through her head, but none of them had any answers. The more time they spent together, the harder and harder Lilith was finding it to stay mad at him; and for the first time since returning to Hawkins, Lilith felt the mask that she had been wearing begin to slip ever so slightly.

“You’re relieved of duty, Munson, it’s been a couple of hours now,” Lilith yawned.

“But it’s getting good…” Eddie said, the impatience conveyed in his tone.

“Save some for a rainy day. I’m starving,” she declared, her stomach beginning to growl.

“You made breakfast, I’ll get this one. It’ll give me something to do,” he said while rolling his eyes, tossing the book back on the bed with a defeated look.

“What are you doing when all of this is over then?” Lilith pondered after a few minutes of being distracted by her own thoughts.

“Me? I am army-crawling my way toward a D in Miss O'Donell's. If I don’t blow her final I’m going to walk that stage that next month, I’m going to look Principal Higgins dead in the eye, I’m going to flip him the bird, I’m going to snatch that diploma, and I’m going to run like hell out of there,” Eddie laughed.

“I’m sure Dustin mentioned something about you saying the same thing last year… and the year before that,” she teased.

“Yeah, yeah, and I was full of shit. This year is different. This year is my year. I can feel it. ‘86, baby!” he declared, raising his glass of water in a toast.

“‘86, baby!” Lilith repeated, raising her glass to meet his.

“What about you?” he asked as they flopped back onto the sofa.

“I thought I was going to graduate and hop back on the first flight out of here and get back to the band but… I don’t know anymore,” she thought aloud.

“You’re thinking about quitting the band?” he asked.

“No, no, I’ll never leave the Queens. I just think I might stick around in Hawkins and visit them instead,” Lilith answered.

“What made you change your mind?” he asked with an air of hope in his voice.

“Honestly… My aunt’s cooking. My mom can’t cook for shit,” she laughed, “plus, what would the likes of Robin, Steve and yourself do without me?” she smirked.

“Boathouse, now,” Eddie declared, grabbing the walkie-talkie and running out the door. Lilith followed in a hurry. They watched from the window as a black Chevrolet pulled up. Jason, Patrick, and the rest of the basketball team got out of the truck with weapons in their hands.

“Shit, shit, shit” Eddie muttered.

“The walkie. Use the walkie,” she told him.

“Hey, Dustin, you there? It’s Eddie. You remember me, right?” he asked through gritted teeth. Silence. “Hey, uh, if anyone’s there, I really think we might be in a bit of trouble here,” he said. More silence. “Wheeler? Anybody?!” he asked frantically, hitting the walkie-talkie out of frustration.

It was dark out now, they’d been hiding out in the boathouse for over an hour. They peeked through the window every now and again only to find that Jason and his friends were still ransacking the entire cabin in search of them.

“Dustin. Please. Are… are you there?” he asked. Silence. Eddie ran to the center of the room and pulled the tarpaulin from the boat. “Get in,” he instructed, grabbing an oar. Lilith did as she was instructed while Eddie untied the boat and gave it a push start before jumping in to join her before rowing them into the lake.

“This is bad. This is really bad,” Lilith muttered under her breath, her growing breathing increasingly faster.

“Hey, freak!” a voice yelled. Their heads spun around to find Jason and Patrick standing at the edge of the lake. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Shit,” Eddie said to nobody in particular. He lunged towards the motor and tried frantically to get it started.

“Eddie, they’re getting in…” she told him, panic in her voice.

“Come on!” he cried in desperation, tugging at the power cord repeatedly. “Nope? Okay. Alright,” he gave up.

“Eddie…”

He grabbed the oar and rowed frantically. Jason was catching them up now. There was barely a meter between them. Eddie stood up and began to swing the oar around. “Stay back, man. Stay back!”

Jason turned around to face Patrick who was looking into the distance. “Come on, we almost have him!” he yelled, but he didn’t get a response. “Hey, Patrick… Patrick… Patrick!”

Lilith’s blood ran cold and a shudder ran down her spine. Something was… wrong. Her stomach began to churn. Her nightmares flashed through her mind as she realised what was wrong. This was how she felt any time the creature was near. Eddie glanced over at Lilith and his eyes narrowed. He’d seen that look in her eyes before. Pure terror. Both of their heads spun around to face the sound of splashing water that had grabbed their attention.

Patrick’s body flew out of the water and into the air. Lilith couldn’t do anything except watch in horror as history repeated itself right in front of her eyes. Eddie stumbled and fell backward into the water. Her eyes were transfixed on Patrick’s body. He hung there, eyes glazed over, lifeless. His limbs cracked in the same order as Chrissy’s; arms, legs, then jaw. Jason let out a scream as Patrick’s eyes sucked back into his head before his body fell back into the water with an almighty splash.

“We’ve got to go,” Eddie told her, snapping her back to reality. Lilith blinked rapidly and recomposed herself, looking towards Eddie. He was treading water a few feet away from the boat, the dim reflection of the pale moonlight leaving his facial features only marginally distinguishable. “Henderson, come on!” he snapped.

Without thinking, Lilith leapt from the boat to join Eddie. The cold water washing over her mixed with the adrenaline pumping through her veins left Lilith feeling like she could move a mountain if she tried hard enough. They set off in an instant with no words exchanged or second glances at the horror they’d just witnessed; all they cared about was getting the hell away from it. Coughing and spluttering, Lilith clambered out of the lake and joined Eddie once more. They turned their gaze back to Jason for a few seconds. He was still in the water, crying and screaming for Patrick.

Eddie grabbed Lilith’s hand and gave it a slight tug indicating to her that, once again, it was time to run.

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blowjob-horseguy · 2 years

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Anyway stream the spaces inbetween by yourgardianangel sound of the fucking summer

#read all of it last night and then needed to fantasize about it to sustain myself #ezra talks #steddie #stranger things #tsib

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whatevertheweather · 2 years

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The Space in Between 3, 4, 11 and 12!

HARD HITTING QUESTIONS FOR MY FAVORITE FIC, bless you <3 (Also this has been sitting in my drafts for days, I’m sorry. Thank you, though. I am always happy to go off about this fic.)

3: What’s your favorite line of narration?

Yes that's fine this is fine I can totally pick a single line out of a 100k fic it's whatever. I reserve the right to be wrong about this (as in forgetting I actually favor something else), but off the top of my head I know I really loved the way the whole bathroom scene turned out in chapter 11. This doesn't hit quite the same without the context of the rest, but alas, the question is "line" not "chapter."

He’s hunched over his sprawled legs with his hands pressed to his chest like he can hold the cage of his ribs together, like he can keep it from collapsing, and his mouth is wide, and he can’t get a sound out because you can’t speak grief like this.

You know what, forget “line.” Here’s another.

And Simon had thought that maybe the universe might exhaust itself at some point, that maybe it would run out of demonstrations for the ways a heart can be broken, for every little angle the knife can slip in, but he was wrong.

(To anyone who hasn’t read it, I promise there actually is laughter too.)

4: What’s your favorite line of dialogue?

You've tricked me into rereading 100k. I'm just trying to skim for dialogue to jog my memory, and next thing I know I've reread half of four different chapters, and then whoops, there's three more, and what do I have to show for it? This is hard. Rude, in fact, to make me pick just one. I'm going to pluck this tiny exchange out of chapter 5 and call it good because I do like it, and most other dialogue is riddled with spoilers.

“Snow,” Baz interrupts, pulling his eyes from the mysterious point of interest to look at Simon. “We are in such a position that you might find it easier to just get up and kick me.”

Simon snorts. “I’m just trying to figure you out. It sounds like a bad day and all, but, I mean how could it be worse than — I don’t know, worse than the day your mum died?”

“I’m serious, do you need me to lie down?” Baz asks. “Are you worried your shoes won’t be able to do as much damage?”

There’s another exchange I would choose, but it’s towards the end of the last chapter, so it’s off limits for out-of-context posting <3

11: What do you like best about this fic?

I have big feelings for this fic. Longest thing I’ve ever written, most thoroughly I’ve ever fixated, most fun I’ve ever had writing. And I didn’t write it with the intent of posting it. I wrote it because I was obsessed with it, and I wrote everything that I wanted to. Was there a lot in there that technically isn’t necessary to tell the story? I suppose. But everything in there is something I wanted there.

Everything is a moment that came to me when I was pacing circles in my kitchen or walking the dog or failing at sleeping. Half of chapter 8 exists because I was listening to an instrumental playlist so lyrics wouldn’t distract me, and then Phantom of the Opera came on and I thought, God I want them to dance to this. I remember the exact curb I was stepping onto when I wrote “Braden—looking, as ever, like every white guy Simon has ever seen mixed up into one, with the personality of none—is baring unreasonably white teeth in what might be perceived as a smile by someone who’s only read about them” in my head. I remember the exact balance of excitement and discomfort I felt when I jotted down one of the opening paragraphs in chapter 11 and thought “Man that’s fucked up.”

And that was the fun! I wrote things I’d never written before! I wrote things that were outside of my comfort zone! I wrote topics I didn’t know I could! A lot of it came from wayward scenes I didn’t intend to include but wrote just because they were in my head, and then I did include them! They became important! Because I wanted them to be! Ah!

This fic is just full of good memories, and there’s an overwhelming, nostalgic yearning whenever I think about it, and I love it to bits.

12: What do you like least about this fic?

That it’s based off of two pieces of media that already exist, and I can’t adapt it into its own book that I can put on my bookshelf and stare at.

SO THERE. I hope this was the sort of rambling you were looking for <3

(Questions from this list.)

#anyway now I'm up in my feels for tsib #if you couldn't tell #my writing #the space in between

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