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mehiwilldoitlater · 4 months ago

Note

You made a mistake giving me free range in this house,good luck getting rid of me!

Also may I request more of the destined one from black myth wukong please? Pretty please,wonderful and merciful author god?

The beginning

"We're not in Kansas anymore."

At first, your first idea was that you weren't actually being hit by that car. Maybe you were able to jump away, ending in some brushes near the street. That seemed the most reasonable reason! And hitting a tree would have been the reason why your head hurt so much! Everything seemed pretty normal!

Except you weren't near the road that you were usually crossing to get to work. To be fair, you seemed to be far away from every form of human civilization from the look of it.

Your surroundings seemed to be a lavish forest, with trees and plants that covered every spot of the area. From down, notable under the canopy of the trees, the peaks of mountains were so high that just the view gave you a small dizziness.

Everything could have been almost normal: a forest, some mountains, the singing of the birds, and the insects in the distance. A completely normal green environment!

Except for two Very important details: First, you were sure that your work was in the city, not in the mountains; two, those plants weren't nothing that you ever saw in your life.

You tried to control yourself; the last thing that you needed was a pabick attack in the middle of nowhere. There's had to be a reasonable answer to everything!

Your headache didn't help at all; you felt like something was clearly wrong and your body was screaming, and despite that, it seemed like you had no injuries, which was strange since a car had crashed into you.

You tried to find any answer to your question when you felt... something.

Suddenly, it seemed like a breeze of wind had gently moved to you, a silent and calm gale that entered your lungs, helping you to recover some stability.

It was like a stream, the water touching you and pulling you.

You didn't hear anything calling you; you felt it. In your head, in your soul.

That strange moment suddenly ended, leaving you puzzled and lightheaded. It was just then that you noticed a path, a small track between the trees and the plants, made by the continued footsteps of who was living there.

You looked around. The light of the day was silently making space in the darkness of the night, and by the look of the place, hungry wolves were the last of the troubles.

With an inch of courage and with the encouragement of that feeling in your chest, you began tracking the path in front of you, leaving the security of the clearing at your back.

Despite being in an unknown place with no idea of how you even got there, you had to admit that, wherever you were, it was beautiful.

Around you, plants had grown to the point to reach the branches of the trees, with cascades of flowers that gave colors to the monochrome forest. When the wind blew across the trees, birds fell to the ground, creating a colorful snowflake kind of effect. In the highest branches, fruits as big as a head are grown, relishing amazing perfumes, fresh, and sweets. Not far from there, you were sure to hear the sound of a waterfall and a river.

If it was really a dream, then it was very beautiful. You wondered where you had seen such a place to dream it like this...

You sensed some movements up above your head, and after realizing what it was, you thought that being confused was normal, but remembering that everything was just an illusion put you at ease.

"Monkeys. Of course, why not? Monkeys are fine!"

So you ignored the full fact of the presence of those animals, alongside their curious looks at you.

While the dizziness seemed to be finally at bay, the strange sensation that had catched you at the beginning seemed to get stronger instead. It was strange; despite being unsure of where you were, you felt like something was dragging you in a certain direction. Maybe it was your head, maybe the fact that the only thing more similar to a road was that small trail, covered in perals and leaves, with rocks around here and there, but it was there and you wanted just to avoid it.But it's hard to avoid something that's it getting stronger.

You don't know how long you took, but you ended up in a mother clearing; the only difference was a small structure.

Made of simple rock, they were shaped into rectangular structures to create a small, strange house. The pot in front of it with some incense sticks gave out the origins and use of the small structure: It was a shrine, but they were usually found in Asia. Why was it there?

Everything was just confusing and strange. Now, come to think of it, the plants that surrounded you... Did you have the idea you had seen them before because those were in some art book or in a few about China?That was oddly specific as a dream.

Suddenly, the sensation came again, this time followed by sounds—real sounds. Someone was moving between the bushes; their footsteps were making sound between the dirt and the rocks.

Even though it was a dream, you still wanted to ask for some direction. And if it was, there was supposed to be nothing to fear, right?

Something was coming towards you, still unclear to your eyes, but your heart was racing. That feeling was almost reacting to whomever was approaching you, giving you goosebumps, your stomach twisting, and your breath stuck in your throat.

It was coming near, approaching the light. You found some voice in you.

"I'm Sorry! Please, I need help. I think I had an accident! Please, I Need AH!"

You lost your voice again, the figure finally emerging from the shadows of the trees, and... No, no, maybe it was your eyes; maybe it was some kind of hillness, and your face and reaction were one pretty rude way to see something like that. He was covered in furr... No hair!

Yes! You saw on TV something like that!

The strange was silent, observing you. He was less curious about your looks, much more about your attire.

Yes, it was that... but his... feet? He was moving bearfoot, strange but not that strange, but...those look like hands! What kind of deformity was that?!

He came closer; he seemed nervous. One hand on his chest, like to monitor his own heartbeat, just like his own was acting strange like yours.

Ok, he was... he was a poor, deformed man! Yes, you were such a terrible person, acting all strong about acceptance and then getting a heart attack for... was that a tail?!

He started to circle you; you couldn't take away your eyes from him, like vice versa.

He was... a monkey. A monkey dressed in some human clothes, holding a staff—less a normal thing that a monkey would do, and he was... studying you?

You tried to follow him, moving at his own pace to avoid giving him your back. He was... Just curious, interested in this mortal.And little did you know that he had that feeling too.

"I...i-i...i'm Sorry, I Just-"

You fail to notice the movements of others, and you fail to hear the small noises too. When you felt something tugging at your jacket—a small monkey, tall as a three-year-old—you realized that you both were surrounded.

"You talk strange, miss! Hehe, you look funny!"

Surely, collapsing for the stress is not normal in the dreams.

///

Waking up was harder than you thought. Not only had your headache for the worst, but now you were again in some new place.

By adjusting your eyes, you found out that you were in what seemed the insider of and followed the tree. The bed, what you assumed was a bed, was a mass of grass and leaves put together and then sealed in some fabric—something maybe found somewhere, cleaned, and adjusted to the best that it could.

Around you, several small eyes were curiously witnessing your wake from your fainting of before, whispering things and chucklings.

"Look! She waking up!"

"She's not dead at all!"

"Older Brother! Older Brother! The funny miss is alive!"

Around you, several monkeys were jumping and moving around, avoiding the bed and staying a good distance from your still-recovering frame. Talking monkeys, of course, talking monkeys are pretty normal after a good concussion.

By sitting up, you tried to understand the meaning of everything that was happening, avoiding the possibility that this wasn't a dream after all.The small creatures, some weren't that small at all but as tall as some young men, were now taking advantage of your wakening to question you about... everything. You were quite new here...

A pair of feet marched, moving vigorously towards you. Everyone made some space for the monkey that, you realized, was the one that you met before. He kneeled, looking at you in your eyes, which was easy; you were in such a shock that you couldn't even avoid him.

"Forgive my younger siblings; they can be handfull... Are you all right?"

You didn't say anything. Just moved your head in some assent, despite being sure that you weren't okay.

"You have everyone scared! I was forced to bring you here on my back."

He kept on talking. He seemed quite a kind... simile. And even so, you kept on looking at him, like when you were looking at some videos of people eating so much food that you wondered if it's fake or not. You simply couldn't avoid it, and you wondered when you would finally wake up in front of that strange dream.

He stopped only when, from the doorframe, a hole covered in some more sheets, a Curves figure, wearing white, entered the scene.

His fur, once maybe in snow white, was now of a silver tone; his limbs seemed ready to collapse on their own, and his face was covered in wrinkles. He was old, very old; his robes and pearl necklace made him look like some kind of monk or something. When he moved, the other youngest ones lowered their heads, showing respect given only to the elders.

"The youngers told me about a human on our mountain...yet, I imagined some lost merchant or a pilgrim...not a fine-yoing lady, of course! I would say, What a lucky day for us."

He chuckled, his voice calming, despite the old age.

"But...something tells me that...your not from these parts...no?"

The younger monkey, the one in front of you, felt that the elders know more than the others now, especially under that facade of ignorance.

"I...i...ugh, this must be a dream. You are...monkeys! Talking monkeys!"

You suddenly stand up from the bed, almost losing your balance; finito wasn't for the monkey, giving you his hand for balance. The elders kept similing, not so surprised by your outburst.

"If It Is a Dream, then...why are you feeling pain in your legs? I did not hear of people collapsing in their own dreams!"

He kept chuckling, ignoring your confused stare. It was like he knew everything; he just wanted you to get the answer on your own. You, on your side, were trying to avoid that answer, even though it was now becoming everything far too clear for you to hold it together.

"... it's not real."

"Oh, I'm real as much as you are!"

"The car hit me! I'm in a coma!"

"I heard people like you saying things like this. They turned to ending their own life, and we were left with a new thomb."

"......"

You couldn't ignore it any longer. You could even feel the furr of the strong monkey arm under your skin, the feeling of the dirt where you collapsed, and the smell of the place.You were... somewhere.

"...w-where am I?! How did I end up here?!"

"You," he continued, "are now at our home, Mount Huaguo, away from the chaos of the Yaoguais and the men. How did you come?..."

He interrupted himself, looking back at the two of you. He gestured to follow him, outsider of the small nest in the tree.

The fresh air of the night entered your nose, mixed with the smell of the trees and fruits. The sun was disappearing into the horizon, leaving space for the moon and the stars, already blinking in the pale pink-colored sky. Around you, several other trees were slowly glowing, showing several houses of more monkeys, some curious about the humans in their mountain, others too busy with their own tasks to care.

"Where are my manners... I'm the elder one. Us monkeys never needed a name, and never someone gave us one. This young one here," he pointed to the other monkey, who still kept following you, "is one of my warriors. And you... what's your name, dear?"

"...i-i'm y/n..."

"Um...well dear, as much as I can say about your arrival... I say that I have an inch about it."

You sighed. He talk in riddles; why has it got to be riddles?!

His small eyes darted from you to the young male.

"Tell me, how did you find each other? It's not every time that some human can get here, and it's not from every day that one disciple capable as you leaves his duty in such a hurry."

The two of you looked at each other, maybe confused, maybe curious, but it was like he knew something more about you and the male.

"I don't...listen, I just woke up here and...this...I felt something...like, I don't know... Just to walk? Tò...tò be somewhere?"

The looks on the male face changed immediately; your words struck something in him, which pleased the eldest.

"Like a call?!"

"...i...i Guess? Maybe?"

"I felt it too!" He was shocked, just as you were listening to him. "I don't know what to take to me, but I felt this urge for something! I followed it, and I found you!"

"you...too?"

You looked at each other again, but this time the elders small laugh caught both of your attention.

"Oh...oh, my dear One... it's not by accident that fate brought you here..."He took a big sigh, his hands behind his back, looking at the two of you. "Have you ever heard the tale of the great sage equal to heaven?"

"...i....yes?" As much as a book that you read during your years in high school could mean something. You didn't have so many memories of what you studied during your teens years, but you remembered those books for some reason, and you remembered that you had enjoyed it a lot too but never went forward to love it.

"What happened at the end of the story? After Sun Wukong becoming Buddha?"

"Well...nothing; he became Buddha and just ended!"

"...." He shacked his head and moved his hands like to make your words fly away. "No, no, no. He became Buddha, yes, but he wished nothing more than a peaceful life here, with his kind... and the Celestial realm could not stand that."

Everyone listened to this story in solemn silence. It was like they all knew about it, and even though they heard of it several times, they still kept respecting it. You know that Sun Wukong, the Gret sage, was their king, and still now they kept on respecting him.

"And so, they once again had to Clash their weapon...the sage lost against the bounds of the celestial realm, ending his story."

To your ears, this story seemed absurd. That would have changed everything—the meaning of the journey, the change of the heart of Sun Wukong... It even showed the dark side of this place, this court where the gods lived... He fought for his freedom; they denied it and killed him for that?!

The elders turned around, motioning for the two of you to get closer.

"But his spirit endured! And so, in this land, only the relics can bring him back! To rise again and walk on this land! One, between us, is the destiny one to accomplish this mission!"

He then reached for the male shoulder, grasping it with his long, slender finger.

"My boy... it's your time to travel through the land to accomplish what others had tried before you."

While the male registered this information, which you didn't understand like half-bif whatever was happening, the elders now looked at you with an inch of kindness.

"And you... who had traveled to another realm..."

Hold on, what's going on?!

"You that are outsiders from schemes and rules of the celestial realm..."

Oh SHIT, oh fuck, oh fuck what?!

"You shall be at his side in the quest...at his Biàn huà."

Your eyes locked to his face on the hand, now resting on your shoulder. Suddenly, your first love was to take a big step behind, away from the elders and the male, holding your hands on your chest.

".....ME WHAT?!"

He paused, waiting for you to calm down enough.

"Since the beginning, a chosen one, unbound to this world, has been chosen to follow the Destined one, to be at their side, and to witness the comeback of the Great Sage. Someone that exists yet is not here...someone like..."

You rose your hands, creating a wall between you and whatever strange things this senile simian was trying to tell you.

"NO! NAH AH! No way! I'm not any kind of Chosen or any Bia thing that you said!! I mean, I'm just a random girl walking around a mountain! How could you expect me to believe that I have to do something like... whatever this thing is?"

He took another step closer, motioning on his chest.

"Because you were called... by him." His hand moved to the male. "And so himself by you. The bond between the destined one and the chosen one is not detacted by any rule, magic, or sort of."

"Please," you pleaded, "this you can't ask me to bring back to life and old monkey! I don't even know what to do!"

"Well." He continued to circle you, moving his tails here and there, a little amused by the scene. "Not like someone knew the duty of the Bián huá! It's duty is to follow, yes, but to its purpose... well, you must take this journey to know it."

"But I want to go home! You can't force me!"

He hummed again, a little more confused this time. "I do not know how to take your back to your own realm. What I know is that the key lies on this journey. Maybe the way is at the end. But only going forward, you can really know."

You wanted to say something—that it was a mistake, that it was just a coincidence, that it was nothing such as that—but the monkeys voices were all united. One happy chorus of laughs, congratulations, and encouragement about the Destined One and his Biàn huà.

//////

Sitting on the robot of a tree, the one far away from those noisy celebrations, you kept on telling yourself that what was happening was a huge mistake.

Why that old monkey didn't want to listen to you!? Why forcing you to go through this?! It's not your mission; it's not your king; it's just an old story with a very sad ending! You're not the chosen one! Why kept one pushing it?!

You even kept on talking again with the elders, but he kept disseminating you, and he even told you basically that you were stuck there until the Wukong returned! They basically told you to screw it up and do what they wanted!

"Sulking won't lead you anywhere."

The voice of the male was followed by a pinkie object beating your head.

"I'm not hungry."

"Yes, of course. Came on. Just a few bites."

You have up and taken the peach from his hand, while he took that as and invitati on tò sit near you, a few feet away but enough.

"...I'm Sorry. It must be absurd for you."

"It Is. They want to force us to go and play Frankenstein."

He hummed, not knowing what you were talking about, biting a piece of his own fruit."Yeah, I get that... it's kind of my fault; I took you here in the village."

You sighed. Despite it all, this one seems nice. At least he had asked you how you felt about it. He wasn't like the others; he seemed serious, yes, but he was calm and educated enough to not push you... It was easy to talk to him.

And there was this still lungering feeling in your chest. You started to ask yourself if that thing about the bond was true, but you immediately dismissed it.

"I'll take you home."

"Come again?"

"It's not all right; you deserve to be chosen. That's what the Great Sage would have preferred. If I am the Destined One, then I must uphold his own view!"

"Wich is... great, really?"

You crossed your arm in your chest, "but the old one said clearly that he doesn't know how to bring me back home. How could you say that so easily?"

"He said that; he didn't say that there was none of them! I'm sure someone must know the way! A celestial being? Or maybe "he rose from his seat. "The Great Sage knows that! How to send you back home! If we find him, I'll complete my mission, and you come back home!

"He laughed, quite happy with his own ideas that... made sense? He was right; he didn't know! And, more importantly, by asking for help, you could have more chances!

"It does make sense..."

He smiled, the kneeled in Front of you, this time with a kind smile. He took your hands in his own. They were rough, but warm and just. Holding that staff on back every day... Must have been hard.

"I vow to you, Y/n, to help you in your quest, vile aiding me in mine. I'll promise to protect you, being your companion and ensuring your safety. I'll take you home, I promise."

@sleepingdramaqueen

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@biankanoir

@cromboloni

@miraclecherryblossomsblog

@masksandfeathers

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@dressycobra7

#black myth wukong #jttw #jttw sun wukong #sunwukong #sun wukong #wukong #wukong x reader #wukong x oc #sun wukong x reader #sun wukong x oc #sun wukong x y/n #journey to the west #isekai #X Reader #F #fem reader #monkey king #destined one

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sylvia-plaths-fig-pie · 5 months ago

Text

The night we met ♡ Sam Winchester

As a young girl it was drilled into you to never be alone in the woods.

As a woman the same sentiment was echoed.

But as a hunter, you found that that warning couldn't be one that you listened to. For the sole reason of what if there was a young girl or a woman in the woods at the mercy of the very things that you were trained to hunt. Trained to kill.

You'd been a hunter for as long as you could remember, grew up on the road with your mother. Never went to a real school or met anyone your age. It was just the two of you.

Untill it wasn't.

One particularly bad hunt with a nest of vamps left you to mourn the loss of your mother, and you were alone.

And that's how you stayed.

That's how you liked it.

Sure you came into contact with men, it was always men, who thought they knew more or were better than you. But you were still standing, and they, well they were not.

Life expectancy wasn't particularly high in your line of work, it would be a miracle of you made it to your 30th birthday. It seemed that hunters either died young or seemed to live forever. You didn't know what was worse.

That being said, the earlier option seemed very likely right about now.

You were alone in the woods, in a deep fog, after killing three vamps.

It was dark and there was probably other creatures lurking in the shadows, knowing your luck there would be a vamp nest right around the corner.

What made matters worse is that the exit wasn't exactly clear. You'd lost your map, couldn't hear a road, and (rather inconveniently) there was no sighn posts anywhere.

All you could do is walk in a straight line and hope that you were going in the right direction.

Hope.

You knew the irony.

Hope wasn't worth much. Hope was a damn sure way to get yourself killed. Hope was for young girls who wished on stars, but after learning the myths behind them you had lost faith even in the night sky.

Hope wasn't somthing you would bet your life on, yet you had no choice. It was better than a prayer you supposed.

Suddenly you became aware that your footsteps weren't the only noise in the darkness. There were voices.

Two distinct low voices. Voices of men. Why was it always men?

Familiar warnings rang through your head. You knew it wasn't just monesters you were to be afraid of, sometimes there are more sinister things that lurked in the darkness. Sometimes death wasn't the worst fait to face.

Your hand griped tighter around your knife, your free hand rested on top of your gun.

The voices stopped after a rush of feverish whispers.

You were going to do something stupid.

"Who's there?" You shouted, trying to sound as stoic as possible. If they didn't know you were there they sure did now, along with anything else lurking in the shadows. It really was a stupid decision, but making stupid decisions was part of the job description and it had gotten you this far, or at least you were still alive to tell the tale.

"I'm armed and you've lost the element of surprise so why don't you do us both a favour and stop hiding!" You shouted once more, slightly more urgently this time, even you could hear the slight panic in your own voice.

A tall figure emerged from the shadowy fog, arms raised in surrender. He was tall, almost abnormally so. 'Go for the legs if necessary' you mentally told yourself, just incase he want so friendly. He took slow, purposeful steps towards you in an attempt not to frighten you, you appreciated the gesture but it did nothing to settle your concern.

As he drew closer you could look him in the eyes. And that's exactly what you did. His eyes were Hazel, almost green with a touch of gold with a sense of softness and sensitivity about them. It felt like you were reading a book, being continually drawn in till you don't even rember who you were before you picked it up. Looking at him gave you a sense of comfort you hadn't expericed before on the road. It was nice. It was terrifying.

You cursed yourself for staring too long.

"Who are you?" You questioned, bringing the tip of your knife to rest against the base of his neck, the blood from the vamps, which still coated the blade, sticking slightly to his neck. He stopped in his tracks, his arms still up in surrender.

He looked unfazed, he looked as though he understood.

"My name is Sam winchester and I'm a-" he began but you cut him off, realisation hitting you.

"Winchester? Where's your brother?" You asked lowering your knife. You knew they hunted together, and you didn't want to be ambushed unwittingly my the other.

"Hi sweetheart." Another figure said as he sauntered out of the thick trees.

You rolled your eyes at his remark, making a menal note to stay clear of him if your able to.

You could tell that the one that approached you was the younger of the two, Sam as he introduced himself, the boy with deamon blood, or at least he was.

Meaning that the older of the two, and shorter, was Dean who, unsurprisingly, greeted you slightly condescendingly.

You turned your attention back to the brunette just as he began to speak.

"Wait how do you-?" He asked suddenly, slightly confused but also a hit of relief in his voice.

"Bobby is aways talking about you boys, I mean every hunter knows about you and your serious fuck ups, but Bobby keeps saying I should catch you boys and work with you or whatever but-" you rambled on before the younger winchester cut you off.

"You know Bobby?"

"Everyone knows Bobby."

"Wait so you must be-"

He was about to say your name before, who you assumed to be Dean, cut him off.

"Yes yes nice to meet you and whatever but Sammy and I have more pressing issues to attend to." He said with a wave of his hand ushering his brother over. Only Sam didn't move. His eyes were still fixed on yours. Your eyes still on him.

"I killed the three vamps if that's what you're doing out here." You commented, directing your answer to Sam.

He furrowed his brown in confusion.

"Three?" He asked, slightly taken aback.

"Yeah?" You responded, worry consuming you. You didn't miss one did you? You didn't make a mistake, did you? Everything was so matriciously planned out surely you couldn't have-

"We thought it was just a brother and a sister." Sam interrupted your thoughts, placing a strong hand on your shoulder. He clearly read the panic on your face, it was like he'd known you your whole life. His hand on you seemed to ground you, help you think, but it made you feel almost dizzy. It was an unfamiliar feeling, a feeling you weren't sure if you liked it or not. Regardless of the fact you relished in his touch as you composed yourself enough to explain what you knew.

"No they were hunting with their father, it seemed like this town was their first solo hunts, but it all lead back to him."

Sam finally turned away, his hand falling from your shoulder to look at Dean, in response he simply nodded his head to the side. There was some sort of unspoken communication between the two.

You felt left out. You longed to know what they were thinking. You specifically longed to know what the taller of the two was thinking.

"You're sure there's no more?" Sam asked as he turned to face you once more.

"I know that there are no more that are killing people in this area, that's good enough for me."

He just nodded in response.

"Well I guess that means we're done here," Dean commented clapping his hands together, "you crazy kids what to get out of here, maybe get some pie-"

"Shut up." You cut him off. It wasn't beacsue you were opposed to getting out of the woods, quite the opposite. But you heard something or at least thought you did.

"Sweetheart, I can tell you like my brother here more than me but there is no need to be-"

"Be quiet." You cut Dean off once more as you strained your ears again, you heard another rustling sound coming from near by. You gripped your knife tighter, your thumb drawing small circles on the hilt.

Turning in the spot to get a better gauge of your surroundings you clocked both of the winchesters expressions, they heard it aswell.

"You said it was a father and his two kids right?" Sam asked poised, now holding a large knife of his own.

"Yeah," you responded in a hushed whisper.

"Any sign of a mother?" He asked hurriedly, voicing the one thing you hoped not to be true.

Shit.

You hoped you would stumble onto another hunter, but you knew this time you wouldn't be so lucky. It had to be the mother and you cursed yourself for mot even considering her.

"Sam-" you began but were quickly cut off by a figure charging from the shadows.

She was fast, but worst of all she was smart. Thats probably why none of you picked up on her.

She launched herself at you first, the well known glint of vengeance alight in her eyes. "You killed them you bitch, you killed them all!" She sceamed in your face as you tried to bring your knife up to decapitate her.

But she was fast and her clawed hand dug into the wrist where your knife was Sam and Dean rushed to your side but they were quickly pushed away, falling on the ground too far away to reach you.

"Was this the blade that killed them?" She asked as you struggled against her, "didn't even have the decency to kill me aswell?"

Blood was gushing from your wrist from her claws as she twisted your own blade towards your chest.

From the corner of your eye you could see Sam pushing himself off the floor, disappearing into the fog.

Logically he was leaving you. He didn't know you. It was in his best intrest to get his brother and go, regroup and hunt tomorrow. You know logically that's what he was doing.

But something inside you told you otherwise. Something in your head was telling you that he was coming for you. That he would save you. That you just needed to stay alive for a few more moments.

It was more than hope that you had. You knew Sam was still there. You knew he wouldn't leave you.

You could feel your knife pressing against your rib cage, you were no where near as strong as her, you tried pushing back with all your might but it was no use.

You felt the blade as it began to draw blood. You felt the pain of the rapidly growing wound. You felt yourself slowing begin to loose grip on the world around you.

"Oh I am going to enjoy watching you die." The vamp said, her words venomous against your ear.

"Not as much as I'll enjoy this." As voice said from behind the vamp.

It was Sam.

Her was there, knife above his head as he swung it round.

The vamp was quick, but she wasn't quick enough to avoid the blow of Sam's knife as he swung it and swiftly decapitated her.

Blood splattered on you as you let out a sigh of relief. Sam was here.

Sam saved you.

Sam winchester saved your life.

You wanted to run to him but the corners of your vision blured. You were dizzy. You couldn't see. You couldn't stand.

"Sam..." you managed to whisper as the world fell from beneath your feet.

You felt two strong hands wrap around you and lower you slowly to the floor. Your head rested against something sturdy, something warm.

"Hey look at me I'm here," a voice said, it was muffled, distant almost.

"You need to just hang on for me, keep your eyes open okay?" The voice asked of you and you nodded or it at least felt like you did. Your vision was blurry but your eyes were open.

"Dean hurry!" Sam shouted, panicked. Sam was holding you. Your head was against Sam's chest and you were resting in his arms.

You tried to sit up but a sharp pain shot throught you. "Shit." You mumbled, you looked down and saw the knife still in you. It was deeper that what you first thought, but it can't have been that bad you could breathe fine, it missed your lung. You were fine, right?

"Sam?" It came out as more of a question, you didn't want to admit it but you were scared.

This is how your mother died in your arms, did she feel like this too? Was she scared? Did she know she was going to die, or did she foolishly think she would live?

"Hey, hey," Sam stroked your hair soothingly, "I'm right here love, I'm not going anywhere okay?" His touched seemed to ground you, soothe you.

"Dean is coming back with medical supply's, your going to be okay."

"Okay." You replied, all you could do was look at Sam. Even when he was blurry he was beautiful. Even when it felt like the world was going dark his eyes were bright as ever.

Thoes were the last things you rember seeing before the world went black, and you finally understood why so many people warned you not go out in the woods alone.

♡♡♡

Anybody want a part 2?

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momolady · 2 months ago

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Commissions Are Open!

I'll be accepting a few a month so send an email to get into the queue.

The Spiel:

Include a genre or theme if you so wish. Such as horror, romance, angst, fluff, etc.

If you want one of my universes, please include it as well. Ruby Empire, Hearthway Hollow, the Carnival, etc.

If you have a story idea, please include a few sentences of plot for me to work with. The more details the better

If you wish to include your OC please provide references so I can do them justice.

All characters must be 18+ for nsfw content.

All payments must be made in USD, & invoices will be sent upfront.

I have the right to refuse commissions

Discussion will take place via email or through discord if requested.

You will receive commissions through email unless requested otherwise.

Changes can be made, but there is a limit of 2 revisions. (I’m soft though so who knows if I’ll keep this up.)

All stories will be posted to my Patreon, Tumblr, and maybe ko-fi. OC can be changed upon request for public stories. You will always have the original story.

My stories can not be posted anywhere else.

Longer stories may receive an increase in price. (Under 10k words is usually fine. I enjoy longer works personally.)

Stories take anywhere from one to three weeks to complete once started depending on length, detail, etc. Feel free to ask for updates, previews, etc.

East Commission Form:

What is your budget (or desired word count):

Genre/Universe/Theme:

Reader Character Gender:

Reader Character Description:

Monster Character:

Monster Character Description:

Is this NSFW or SFW?

Any kinks, tropes, or specifics?

Story Outline:

Other thoughts or comments:

What You can Commission:

All monsters and creatures from media, folklore, myth, crytozoology, etc. (Within the bounds of cultural sensitivity.)

Horror stories. This can be straight horror, romance, smut, etc. Slasher, Lovecraftian, weird, etc.

Magical girl stories. Heroes as well.

Original Characters are always welcome.

Legally distinct characters are okay. I don’t write fanfic, but I’m happy to build your dream character with an existing character as reference.

If you need an idea for character or plot, I will brainstorm with you. I also will do free reign stories for a small discount.

Continuing stories from my masterlist is also accepted! I enjoy revisiting beloved characters.

Plotting help for your own stories such as outlines, character bios, etc. (This is new dunno where it’ll go.)

Moodboard can be requested upon story completion if wanted. Otherwise it will be seen on Patreon first.

Themes:

Smut of course. Other NSFW themes can be done upon approval. (No under 18 or dub-con themes.)

All romance of course. Ranging from slow burn, enemies to lovers, one bed, etc.

LGBTQIA+ themes are always welcome.

Classic tropes:forbidden love, fake dating, friends to enemies, hurt-comfort, stuck together, cafe au, etc.

Horror stories, romantic or not. The weirder the better.

Fantasy: can include anything from DnD themed, urban fantasy, future, past, other worlds, etc.

Fluff: domestic bliss, confessions, dates, proposals, etc.

Platonic stories.

Plot heavy.

PWP

#writing commissions #writing comms open #writers on tumblr #commission #terato writhing #monster romance #romance writing #writeblr #monster writing

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thedisabilitybookarchive · 6 months ago

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Disability in Non-Fiction #1: Plain Text Edition

A plain text version of this post. Here you will find detailed image descriptions and easier-to-read versions of each book summary. If you think that any image descriptions/summaries need to be updated, please let me know!

================================================

‘How to Live Free in a Dangerous World’- Lawson, Shayla

[ID: A book cover. The background is a pale orange colour. In the centre, a large photograph of a person with brown skin standing in front a desert under a blue sky. They have short braided brown hair swept over their left eye, and have their arms crossed over their chest, with one hand resting on the side of their face. The title “How to Live Free in a Dangerous World” is around them in large orange writing that covers the length of the photo. The subtitle “A Decolonial Memoir” is to the right their head in very small white writing. The author’s name “Shayla Lawson” is below the title, at the bottom of the photograph, in smaller yellow writing. Black text at the bottom of the cover reads, under the author’s name, reads “author of ‘this is major’, a national book critics circle award finalist”. /end]

Summary:

Poet and journalist Shayla Lawson follows their National Book Critics Circle finalist This Is Major with these daring and exquisitely crafted essays, where Lawson journeys across the globe, finds beauty in tumultuous times, and powerfully disrupts the constraints of race, gender, and disability.

With their signature prose, at turns bold, muscular, and luminous, Shayla Lawson travels the world to explore deeper meanings held within love, time, and the self.

Through encounters with a gorgeous gondolier in Venice, an ex-husband in the Netherlands, and a lost love on New Year’s Eve in Mexico City, Lawson’s travels bring unexpected wisdom about life in and out of love. They learn the strength of friendships and the dangers of beauty during a narrow escape in Egypt. They examine Blackness in post-dictatorship Zimbabwe, then take us on a secretive tour of Black freedom movements in Portugal.

Through a deeply insightful journey, Lawson leads readers from a castle in France to a hula hoop competition in Jamaica to a traditional theater in Tokyo to a Prince concert in Minnesota and, finally, to finding liberation on a beach in Bermuda, exploring each location—and their deepest emotions—to the fullest. In the end, they discover how the trials of marriage, grief, and missed connections can lead to self-transformation and unimagined new freedoms.

‘Being Seen’- Sjunneson, Elsa

[ID: A book cover. It is a dark black with faint, grey, writing over it. The writing, from top to bottom, reads: “Elsa Sjunneson” “Being Seen” “One Deafblind Woman’s Fight to End Ableism” All in capitals. The “I” in “Being Seen” is designed to look like an opening of sorts, with a ray of light coming through. /end]

Summary:

A deafblind writer and professor explores how the misrepresentation of disability in books, movies, and TV harms both the disabled community and everyone else.

As a deafblind woman with partial vision in one eye and bilateral hearing aids, Elsa Sjunneson lives at the crossroads of blindness and sight, hearing and deafness—much to the confusion of the world around her. While she cannot see well enough to operate without a guide dog or cane, she can see enough to know when someone is reacting to the visible signs of her blindness and can hear when they’re whispering behind her back. And she certainly knows how wrong our one-size-fits-all definitions of disability can be.

As a media studies professor, she’s also seen the full range of blind and deaf portrayals on film, and here she deconstructs their impact, following common tropes through horror, romance, and everything in between. Part memoir, part cultural criticism, part history of the deafblind experience, Being Seen explores how our cultural concept of disability is more myth than fact, and the damage it does to us all.

‘Disability Pride’- Mattlin, Ben

[ID: A book cover. The background is made of simple, colourful red, cream, white, yellow and teal shapes. Large text reads, from top to bottom: “Disability Pride” in large, black capitals, “Dispatches from a Post-ADA World”in smaller, black capitals, “Ben Mattlin”, in slightly bigger red capitals. /end]

Summary:

An eye-opening portrait of the diverse disability community as it is today and how attitudes, activism, and representation have evolved since the passage of the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA).

In Disability Pride, disabled journalist Ben Mattlin weaves together interviews and reportage to introduce a cavalcade of individuals, ideas, and events in engaging, fast-paced prose. He traces the generation that came of age after the ADA reshaped America, and how it is influencing the future. He documents how autistic self-advocacy and the neurodiversity movement upended views of those whose brains work differently. He lifts the veil on a thriving disability culture—from social media to high fashion, Hollywood to Broadway—showing how the politics of beauty for those with marginalized body types and facial features is sparking widespread change.

He also explores the movement’s shortcomings, particularly the erasure of nonwhite and LGBTQIA+ people that helped give rise to Disability Justice. He delves into systemic ableism in health care, the right-to-die movement, institutionalization, and the scourge of subminimum-wage labor that some call legalized slavery. And he finds glimmers of hope in how disabled people never give up their fight for parity and fair play.

Beautifully written, without anger or pity, Disability Pride is a revealing account of an often misunderstood movement and identity, an inclusive reexamination of society’s treatment of those it deems different.

‘Crip Kinship’- Kafai, Shayda

[ID: A book cover. The background is light blue, with colourful pictures of butterflies, flowers and a house setting featured in the centre. Lower right centre of the image, a black figure in a long sleeved, billowing dress, holding a curved black walking stick in their right hand. Behind them, a drawing of a room with a table, chair, pink wall with a window, and a blank wall with an orange picture. Text on the book cover, from top to bottom, reads: The title “Crip Kinship” in large black font at the top of the image, The subtitle “The Disability Justice & Art Activism of Sins Invalid” in smaller black capitals, in the upper right corner of the image, The authors name “Shayda Kafai” in medium black capitals in the lower right of the image, partially overlapping the figure in the dress. /end]

Summary:

The remarkable story of Sins Invalid, a performance project that centres queer disability justice.

In recent years, disability activism has come into its own as a vital and necessary means to acknowledge the power and resilience of the disabled community, and to call out ableist culture wherever it appears.

Crip Kinship explores the art activism of Sins Invalid, a San Francisco Bay Area-based performance project, and its radical imaginings of what disabled, queer, trans, and gender-nonconforming bodyminds of colour can do: how they can rewrite oppression, and how they can gift us with transformational lessons for our collective survival.

Grounded in the disability justice framework, Crip Kinship investigates the revolutionary survival teachings that disabled, queer of colour community offers to all our bodyminds. From their focus on crip beauty and sexuality to manifesting digital kinship networks and crip-centric liberated zones, Sins Invalid empowers and moves us toward generating our collective liberation from our bodyminds outward.

‘Sounds Like Home’- Wright, Mary Herring

[ID: A book cover. The background is yellow. A black and white photograph in the centre shows two young black children and a dog in front of a car. The title “Sounds Like Home” is at the tope in large, curvy black writing. The subtitle “Growing Up Black and Deaf in the South” is written in small orange writing, on three black bars on the right side of the cover. The author’s name “Mary Herring Wright” is written in curvy black writing, slightly smaller than the title, at the bottom of the cover. /end]

Summary:

Mary Herring Wright’s memoir adds an important dimension to the current literature in that it is a story by and about an African American deaf child. The author recounts her experiences growing up as a deaf person in Iron Mine, North Carolina, from the 1920s through the 1940s. Her story is unique and historically significant because it provides valuable descriptive information about the faculty and staff of the North Carolina school for Black deaf and blind students from the perspective of a student as well as a student teacher. In addition, this engrossing narrative contains details about the curriculum, which included a week-long Black History celebration where students learned about important Blacks such as Madame Walker, Paul Laurence Dunbar, and George Washington Carver. It also describes the physical facilities as well as the changes in those facilities over the years. In addition, Sounds Like Home occurs over a period of time that covers two major events in American history, the Depression and World War II.

Wright’s account is one of enduring faith, perseverance, and optimism. Her keen observations will serve as a source of inspiration for others who are challenged in their own ways by life’s obstacles.

‘The Right to Maim’- Puar, Jasbir K.

[ID: A book cover. The background is white. A painting stretches from the bottom of the cover to bottom of top quarter. In the upper quarter of the cover, text reads: The author’s name “Jasbir K. Puar” is at the top in black writing. The title “The Right to Maim” is immediately below this in red caps. The subtitle “Debility, Capacity, Disability” is immediately below this in smaller, yellow caps. The painting is immediately below this. The background is a dark cream. It appears to show a humanoid figure climbing a mound. Two other figures appear to be falling off the mound. There are splashes of red paint around the mound and the figure on it. /end]

Summary:

In The Right to Maim Jasbir K. Puar brings her pathbreaking work on the liberal state, sexuality, and biopolitics to bear on our understanding of disability. Drawing on a stunning array of theoretical and methodological frameworks, Puar uses the concept of “debility”—bodily injury and social exclusion brought on by economic and political factors—to disrupt the category of disability. She shows how debility, disability, and capacity together constitute an assemblage that states use to control populations. Puar’s analysis culminates in an interrogation of Israel’s policies toward Palestine, in which she outlines how Israel brings Palestinians into biopolitical being by designating them available for injury. Supplementing its right to kill with what Puar calls the right to maim, the Israeli state relies on liberal frameworks of disability to obscure and enable the mass debilitation of Palestinian bodies. Tracing disability’s interaction with debility and capacity, Puar offers a brilliant rethinking of Foucauldian biopolitics while showing how disability functions at the intersection of imperialism and racialized capital.

‘Uncomfortable Labels’- Dale, Laura Kate

[ID: A book cover. The background is a close photograph of some kind of knitted garment, and its label. The garment is blue. The label is in the centre. Text on the label reads: The title “Uncomfortable Labels” in large black caps The subtitle “My Life as a Gay Autistic Trans Woman” in smaller black caps, lower left of this The author’s name “Laura Kate Dale” at the bottom of the label in black writing. A smaller label attached to the bottom has a single, black capitalised “M” written on it. /end]

Summary:

“So while the assumption when I was born was that I was or would grow up to be a neurotypical heterosexual boy, that whole idea didn’t really pan out long term.”

In this candid, first-of-its-kind memoir, Laura Kate Dale recounts what life is like growing up as a gay trans woman on the autism spectrum. From struggling with sensory processing, managing socially demanding situations and learning social cues and feminine presentation, through to coming out as trans during an autistic meltdown, Laura draws on her personal experiences from life prior to transition and diagnosis, and moving on to the years of self-discovery, to give a unique insight into the nuances of sexuality, gender and autism, and how they intersect.

Charting the ups and downs of being autistic and on the LGBT spectrum with searing honesty and humour, this is an empowering, life-affirming read for anyone who’s felt they don’t fit in.

'Brilliant Imperfections'- Clare, Eli

[ID: A book cover. A photograph of stones can be seen. Over it, a dark box stretching from left to right at the top of the image. Text in the box reads: “Brilliant Imperfection”, in large caps. “Brilliant” is in green, “Imperfection is in white. “Grappling With Cure”, in small, green caps. “Eli Clare”, in white caps. /end]

Summary:

In Brilliant Imperfection Eli Clare uses memoir, history, and critical analysis to explore cure—the deeply held belief that body-minds considered broken need to be fixed.

Cure serves many purposes. It saves lives, manipulates lives, and prioritizes some lives over others. It provides comfort, makes profits, justifies violence, and promises resolution to body-mind loss. Clare grapples with this knot of contradictions, maintaining that neither an anti-cure politics nor a pro-cure worldview can account for the messy, complex relationships we have with our body-minds.

The stories he tells range widely, stretching from disability stereotypes to weight loss surgery, gender transition to skin lightening creams. At each turn, Clare weaves race, disability, sexuality, class, and gender together, insisting on the nonnegotiable value of body-mind difference. Into this mix, he adds environmental politics, thinking about ecosystem loss and restoration as a way of delving more deeply into cure.

Ultimately Brilliant Imperfection reveals cure to be an ideology grounded in the twin notions of normal and natural, slippery and powerful, necessary and damaging all at the same time.

================================================

A short list of 8 non-fiction books featuring and/or discussing disability!

I don't highlight the non-fiction section of the archive enough, so I think this is a perfect opportunity.

A plain text version of this post exists here, featuring more detailed image descriptions of each book cover and easier-to-read versions of every summary.

Books on this list:

‘How to Live Free in a Dangerous World’- Lawson, Shayla

‘Being Seen’- Sjunneson, Elsa

‘Disability Pride’- Mattlin, Ben

‘Crip Kinship’- Kafai, Shayda

‘Sounds Like Home’- Wright, Mary Herring

‘The Right to Maim’- Puar, Jasbir K.

‘Uncomfortable Labels’- Dale, Laura Kate

'Brilliant Imperfections'- Clare, Eli

All of these books and more can be found on the Disability Book Archive.

Happy Disability Pride Month!

#books #disability books #disability #disability representation #the disability book archive #lgbtq books #lgbtq+#lgbtq representation #non fiction #disability pride month #disability pride #disability history #link #images #described #alt text #plain text #disability in non fiction #part 1

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intheholler · 1 year ago

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On Appalachian and Southern Stereotypes

After seeing some people leap at the opportunity to insult and further harm us under my posts, even by obviously leftist accounts, I wanted to address some of the most popular stereotypes of our region.

Not as an excuse. There are many negative, violent and otherwise harmful features of the American South. We have a horrific history especially in terms of the violence we inflicted and continue to inflict upon the Black community that cannot be forgotten, and, as a culture, we do need to pay our dues.

But maybe this will help y’all apply some nuance to the situation and understand that we aren’t all your enemy.

Stereotype 1: Everyone is a Republican Racist

Absolute horse shit, my friends. There are people like me all over the south and in the hollers. We just get drowned out by the fascists, and it is all by design.

In my home state of North Carolina alone, they are working tirelessly to make it impossible for young, often liberal (if not outright leftist) voices to be heard. They specifically target regions with heavy POC populations.

As recently as May of this year, the North Carolina Supreme Court overturned their own previous ruling which once made gerrymandering illegal. This allows Republicans free range to draw their congressional lines wherever benefits them most.

Meanwhile, Roy Cooper, our Democratic governor, has been in office since 2017.

Gerrymandering is a real problem, and it reflects the worst of us. But it does not reflect all of us.

We are a working class, pro-union people.

We are coal miners and mill workers and farmers.

We took up arms against the government and fought for our labor rights during the Coal Wars as recently as the 1920s.

We bled for labor rights at the Battle of Blair Mountain.

It’s a myth that you keep perpetuating that we are all closed minded, bigoted regressionists. It diminishes the efforts of everyone from the coal miners to people like me while we try to make the region a better place.

It actually only worsens what you say that you wish you could “saw off into the ocean.”

That's my home you're talking about.

Stereotype 2: Everyone is Obese

36.3% of the overall population of the Southeast is obese. This is true.

Have you considered why that may be? For starters, Southerners are more likely to be uninsured compared to individuals living in the rest of the country.

"Among the total nonelderly population, 15% of individuals in the South are uninsured compared to 10% of individuals in the rest of the country."

Partially because they didn't even expand the same Medicaid benefits to us. and partially because we are just so fucking poor.

17% of the American South is below the poverty line, compared to 13% in the Midwest, 13% in the West, and 13% in the Northeast.

Percentages under 5% may not seem like much, but when you consider 1% of the total United States population is around 3,140,000 people, yeah, that adds up real quick.

How does this relate? Well...

Mississippi has 19.58% of its residents below the poverty line, and a 39.1% obesity rate.

West Virginia has 17.10% of its residents below the poverty line, and a 40.6 % obesity rate.

Kentucky has 16.61% of its residents below the poverty line, and a 40.4% obesity rate.

Are you seeing the trend?

We, generally speaking, are more likely to be unable to afford to feed ourselves wholesome foods, and we are less likely to be able to afford medical insurance--two things that are obviously important to maintaing good health and a "healthy" weight.

By the same token...

Stereotype #3: We're All Uneducated

The South and Appalachia are some of the lowest ranked in terms of educational funding and spending per pupil in the entire country. We don't even break the top 30 on the list, y'all.

49. Tennessee at $8,324 per pupil 47. Mississippi at $8,919 per pupil 45. Alabama at $9,636 per pupil 42. Kentucky at $10,010 per pupil 36. North Carolina at $10,613 per pupil 35. South Carolina at $10,719 per pupil 33. Georgia at $10,893 per pupil 32. West Virginia at $10,984 per pupil

The top three best-funded states, by comparison, receive between $18k and $20k per pupil.

In terms of higher education, student loans are a death sentence for everyone but especially impoverished kids just looking for a way out. It just isn't feasible for most of us. And that's if we even tested well after going to shitty schools our whole lives. If we had better education, we'd have better literacy in all things, including critical thinking, allowing us to better see through the bullshit we are taught. But we don't. And you aren't helping the ones who are trying in spite of that.

Stereotype 4: Bad Teeth

Quickly going to touch on this one--when we consider a lack of access to affordable, healthy food, shitty medical insurance in general and our poverty rate, this one is kind of obvious. Even so:

“Dental coverage was significantly lower than the national average in the South Atlantic (45.6%), East South Central (45.6%), West South Central (45.9%), and Pacific (48.0%) regions.”

Every time you make a toothless hillbilly joke, ask if poverty is really the butt of the joke you want to be making.

These are just the most pervasive of them, imo. And they can all be underlined by extreme poverty which is absolutely by design.

It also contributes to why it isn’t so easy to “just leave” as we are so often dismissively told to do. Moving is expensive.

And why should we have to, anyway? Why should we have to flee our homes?

Why, for those who feel safe enough and/or have no other choice, should we not stay and fight to better the region?

And why can’t you other leftists get behind us and help us in our fight instead of perpetuating harmful stereotypes? We're your people, too.

Just some food for thought. And I hope some of y’all take a big ol bite.

#i am already exhausted #if you wanna discuss or for some reason argue any of these points my asks are open but i'm hopping off of here for now #appalachia #appalachian culture #appalachian mountains #southern usa #txt

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acesw · 29 days ago

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Knowing our Arcanists 8: APPLe

Welcome to entry eight of my series: "Knowing our Arcanists"! This is a series in which I introduce and tell the stories of our fellow characters in Reverse: 1999. This week's character is: APPLe!

I never understood why people's knees buckle under the sound of his voice. My friend said: "This apple is just that charming," so that checks out one box. I don't know though, what do you guys think? While you ponder on your answer though, lets get started.

APPLe is an arcanist that awakened on January 4th of an unknown time, born out of the many possible conscious beings branched off of a larger entity in space and time. His arcane skill is in relation to optics, being able to manipulate the light around him and those in his range.

We don't know much about him compared to other characters, with his story to be incredibly vague. Although, what we do know is that he has a huge connection to the concept of alchemy.

With what's been written, many had pursued alchemy in the Middle Ages, and it led to the creation of the legend of the Philosopher's Stone: a substance that could turn metals into precious material like gold and silver.

This myth captured the hearts of the masses and resulted in a larger pursuit of the alchemical material.

With how the Awakened are conscious beings born into a material object based on their chosen concept, it can be believed that APPLe himself is based on the concept of pursuing alchemy as a whole. But there is no explicit statement to it, so this is only a theory for now.

Despite these, we have little idea of APPLe's origins, nor how he ended up to where he is now. Besides alchemy, he decided to take up learning things such as philosophy, astronomy, optics, and winemaking.

APPLe is an active wine taster, and he's often found drunk by those close to him, but in the end he is able to mysteriously improve the fermentation of wines if he deems fit.

It can be assumed that this hobby, as much as it allows him to let go for a bit, is a cover-up for his alchemy experimenting. Its made clear that he actively conducts experiments and researches on alchemical materials like the al-iksir adhesive.

His experiments allowed him to further expand his abilities in optic arcane skills, and make him an efficient fighter.

APPLe is a very intelligent and analytical character, enjoying his hobbies in his free time and keeping Regulus company as her first mate. There's no defined timeframe to when these two had met, but their bond strengthened over time and to APPLe, Regulus had become family to him. He also finds joy in being able to talk with those interested in what he likes studying about, especially when they're near his level of knowledge.

His kindness shines through his humility and quiet demeanor, actively looking after his friends and his captain. However, this can come to a fault with him being secretive and very adamant about avoiding certain topics around those he cares for. With light comes the shadows left unspoken of.

Yet, there's not much to say about him, so I hope that we get to know him a lot better in future patches.

#reverse 1999 #knowing our arcanists #apple reverse 1999 #the apple of my eye #soundin ahh

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a-butterfly1 · 2 years ago

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==✦NINJAGO AU MASTERPOST✦==

This is an AU I've been working on, I will actually work on it on writting ( on AO3 ) instead of making a comic/manga because I tend to procastinate when it comes to drawing panels ( if you have been keeping up with other pojects of mine you would know this), hopefully I will keep this updated.

==❤︎CHARACTER INFORMATION❤︎==

Lloyd Montgomery Garmadon

Age- 1000+ (immortal) Height: 5'8 (1,73m)

Lloyd has lived many years, of course, now he's immortal, he doesn't have much of a choice but to continue living on. He was many things throughout his life: a bratty child, a son, a master, a hero and now he's nothing more than a myth, while still a part of ninjago history many actually question if he ever really existed or not. He ostracized himself from society for a reason, after all,- it's painfull to make relationships when they are so short lived. He is considered a god by many, but he denies that being the case, maybe the embodiment of the balance between good and evil but he wont try to call himself anything more. Lloyd now lives with the spirits of his family with the occasional visits from Morro and Garmadon, his father.

==꒷꒦︶︶꒷︶︶꒦꒦︶︶꒷꒦==

Jay Walker

Age- 1000+ (spirit) Died at 115 Height: 5'10 (1,78m) Status: Nya's husband

He was a man of the spotlight, he shined brithly- TV shows, TheyTube channels, he was knowed worldwide. Not that he minds the retirement, he lived his life; he had two beautiful twins with the love of his life, Nya. He died happy, even if he was the last one to die, 3 years after Nya had passed. His last years were spent with Lloyd. In his many years in the Ninja team, he's come to realise he doesn't exactly have the same type of strengh like the others so he created a different weapon one that creates iron alloy strings, that resemble spider webs. He also practiced racing with his wife in his free time and created all kinds of machines and weapons which ranged from house equipment to ninja tech, like mechs, weapons and transport.

==꒷꒦︶︶꒷︶︶꒦꒦︶︶꒷꒦==

Kai Smith

Age- 1000+ (spirit) Died at 95 Height: 6'2 (1,88m) Status: Skylor's husband and Nya's bio brother

Kai was a little bit of an influencer in his younger years, but as the years went by he settled more into being a family man with his wife Skylor and his little girl. How did he become a spirit? Well it was his idea; well his plan was to become immortal like Lloyd but he was intersected by Morro, so he opted for the second best option: giving his powers to Lloyd, so even if he was dead he would be with Lloyd through his power; what wasn't part of the plan was he actually becoming part of Lloyd as a spirit, not that he is complaining, he got what he wanted in the end; and since he was the one that piched the idea to the ninja, he just involved them all into the mad plan- one that Lloyd was unaware of. He trully is a mad man, no one, and I mean, no ONE, puts themselves between him and his family, the last person who did so, is no longer amoung us, the last thing they saw was Kai becoming a demonic ball of flames.

==꒷꒦︶︶꒷︶︶꒦꒦︶︶꒷꒦==

Nya Smith Walker

Age- 1000+ (spirit) Died at 112 Height: 6'0 (1,83m) Status: Jay's wife and Kai's bio sister

Nya, famous racer, only had to step down from the hobbie/carrer when she got into a small accident, while she wasn't gravelly wounded that was enough for her to be proibited from competitive racing. From that day on she still raced but became more of an idol than a racer per say. She ended up working on engineer projects, solo or with Jay, mostly out of boredom. Now, since she is dead, she has more free time than ever, and uses it to learn and explore every digital corner of the internet, catching a few criminals in the way. Many say she is mystical and her strengh is as crushing as the waves in a storm can be, yet calm and relaxing as the days in the beach, others, like the Ninja themselves just see her as they're beloved sister.

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Cole Brookestone

Age- 1000+ (spirit) Died at 87 Height: 6'8 (2,03m) Status: Vania's husband

Cole, King of the Kingdom of Shintaro, Husband of Queen Vania, father of the prince of Shintaro, and our beloved cake lover, sadlly passed away early, well earlier than his siblings at least, the unknowed illness that had taken the life of his mother had decided to claim another. Cole fell gravelly ill, bedridden in his late stages of life. Bedridden in the castle, he invited Lloyd over for most possibly a final goodbye, although he didn't think that Lloyd would stay around the whole time it wasn't completly unexpected, right there he was the first one to execute Kai's plan, and the first to discover the side effects of the plan; from then on he was part of Lloyd and made sure to let the others know of the end result.

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Zane Julien

Age- 1000+ (nindroid) Height: 7'0 (2,13m) Status: P.I.X.A.L's husband

Caretaker of the rest of the Ninja team and their children, especially since those little kids sure liked uncle Lloyd a whole lot and would visit constently. He stayed with Lloyd in the monastery alongside P.I.X.A.L and Morro (who visits soo much he pretty much lives there, has a room and everything). Him and Lloyd share house chores, and Zane is in charge of looking at news around ninjago, to ensure it's safety, as well as helping in some researches since Lloyd is only one person and can only intake soo much information at a time. He is the only one that hasn't partaken in Kai's plan, since there is literally no reason to, Zane obviously doesn't die of old age, one may claim that he could possible get rusty and need repairs at some point but Lloyd and P.I.X.A.L are always around is any issue is to come.

==✿ADDITIONAL INFORMATION✿==

The Ninja team, many years after most of the team's death, has move the location of the monestary far away from the main ninjago island, and instead now lives in a far away island that Lloyd created west of Ninjago city, around the middle of Ninjago and the dark island (thats has been sealed away by Lloyd). The reason for that change is because of something rather strange, it's not just to ensure Lloyd's ever soo wished isolation but also because a merchant had attented to buy the place, with the intention of turning the monestary into a tourist attraction. Lloyd got a bit peeved and decided to pick up the mountain where the monestary was on top of and relocated it;

The only reason the Jay was living with Lloyd in his last moments, was because he genuenly belived he would miss the mark to execute Kai's plan, because he belives himself to be quite clumsy and distracted; either way he didn't miss it and now is with the rest of the team (which is a way to say that he can now torment the Ninja forever);

Lloyd has a cute nickname for all the Ninja's kids, and spoiled them to no end (he is the fun uncle who takes everyone to Disneyland), he calls Kai's daugther "munchkadee", Jay and Nya's twins has "Starlight" and "Moonlight" for the girl and boy respectively, and Cole's son is "Duckling";

the age diference of the Ninja are, from youngest to oldest: Lloyd - Nya - Jay - Kai - Cole - Zane ( to say, with maybe the idea of the 1 season, Lloyd (8->15) - Nya (15) - Jay (16) - Kai (17) - Cole (18) - Zane (30-40? he is old);

(conceivable for change) As of right now, Lloyd's power is one that could rival gods, the source of said power is something OP is still considering but the possible main reason might be related to "source dragons", has to why the other Ninja's had powers even after having kids is related to Lloyd giving them an artifact that has their specific element embodied into them (the artifacts are not phisical and can only be visualised when the Ninja have already passed, the artifact will most likely have the form of a card); (the reason of this possible change is the development of the plot of "Dragons Rising").

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devoted1989 · 6 months ago

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free range eggs - the reality

Don’t be misled by free-range eggs with pictures of happy animals running near quaint country barns and reassuring labels proclaiming “organic” or “free-range.”

Free-range hens begin their lives in hatcheries. These are factories where chickens’ eggs are intensively incubated and hatched. Regardless of where the chicks end up, all their lives begin here.

After hatching, male and female chicks are separated as only the female chicks will grow up to lay eggs. Hundreds of millions of male chicks are killed on their first day of life.

While the U.S. Department of Agriculturie (USDA) requires chickens on so-called “free-range” farms to have access to outdoor areas, it doesn’t specify how much time they must be allowed to spend outside or how much space they should be given.

Almost all free-range chickens are still kept in huge flocks in large crowded barns, being let outside for parts of the day, weather permitting.

These barns have a stocking density of up to four hens per square metre.

Pop-holes are the exits provided in barns to allow free-range hens to get outside. Many barns don’t have enough, and the exits are often blocked by dominant hens asserting the pecking order.

In reality an average of fewer than 10 per cent of free-range chickens will be outside at any given time. What’s more, some never go outside at all.

Overcrowding in the free-range system leads to the same problems of aggression and feather-pecking that we see in cage and barn systems of egg production. This is caused by frustration and stress as the chickens compete for space. As a result, free-range birds still have the end of their beaks cut off when they are one day old, just like caged birds.

Free-range hens are still regarded as ‘egg-producing machines’ and are slaughtered as soon as they cease to be profitable.

At the end of their lives, they are typically shipped on trucks through all weather extremes-usually without food, water, or rest - to the same slaughterhouses used by factory farms.

Source: Compassion in World Farming and United Poultry Concerns.

Image: World Animal Protection.

#vegan #veganism #animal rights #free range #free range myth #humane myth

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acti-veg · 1 year ago

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Not to worry, just the British Free Range Producers Association opposing requirements to give birds natural daylight and access to outdoor spaces… You know, the thing everyone believes free range already includes?

Their concern is that there is ‘no evidence of any obvious financial return for producers.’ How can anyone honestly believe that free range or animal welfare means anything at all when the industry speaks like this openly in their own publications?

#free range #articles #animal welfare #humane myth #to add

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smallpeniscollective · 2 years ago

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Smokin’

Eddie Munson x Reader (18+)

Summary: (reader smokes weed with her crush Eddie, lowered inhibitions lead to shared secrets, smut ensues)

Word Count: 5.8k

Content: she/her pronouns, drugs (don’t do drugs, kids), some cursing, sexual content, p in v sex, unprotected sex, praise during sex, pet names (princess, baby, sweet thing), loss of virginity (reader’s)

Minors DNI pls !!!

Part 2

*~*~*

All she could focus on was the ticking of the clock, digging deeper into her psyche and driving her absolutely crazy that class was not over yet. She wasn’t a bad student, in fact, she did very well in her English class, but right now all she could think about was meeting Eddie out by the abandoned wooden table in the woods, just far enough from the school so nobody would bother them. She was downright jonesing for some of that za.

It didn’t hurt that she had had a crush on the school freak for a while. They shared the senior Calculus class, and if it wasn’t for her letting him brazenly cheat off of all of her work, he wouldn’t even be passing. In the period before her English—the Calculus class—she had slid a note to Eddie that read, Woods after last period? He answered with a subtle nod, and that was that. They had plans to make a sweet deal.

The bell rang, and she scooped up her bag and almost ran out of the classroom, jump-scaring a few peers as she zoomed past them still in their seats. She slipped through the halls towards the exit, darting past all of the high school trope groups and the group-less people who were getting excited for the weekend.

It was a sunny day outside with small fluffy clouds, but still a briskness to the air, making her realize she had left her sweater in her English class in her rush. Well, she thought, I guess it’ll be in the lost and found on Monday.

She snuck past the track field, managing to stay unnoticed by all of the students leaving the school at the same time. Trudging through the forest, she made a game of it to make as little sound as she could, staring at her feet and avoiding twigs and leaves that looked particularly crunchy. She almost won the game in her head, just about to make it to the wooden table...

She hit something sturdy, immediately bouncing backwards and landing hard on her ass. “Ow,” she reacted, then looking up to meet the eyes of the man, the myth, the legend. Eddie Munson.

“Sorry, was I in your way?” he joked, extending out an arm to help her up off of the ground. She accepted it, taking his hand and feeling him yank her up with such ease that it gave her a small headrush coming up so fast.

“Sorry, I was looking at the ground,” she mumbled, following him to join him at the table.

“Yeah, I noticed you do that,” he said. Even when he didn’t mean to, everything he said sounded like flirting, and it only made her more nervous around him. He sat across from her, opening his box and keeping its contents out of view of her. “So... same as usual?”

“Mmm, I think I want more this time. How much can I get for thirty-five?” she asked, pulling a crumpled wad of cash out of her jeans pocket.

“Woah, that’s a lot. You trying to stave off our little visits?” he jokingly asked, although the fastest little glint of sadness shone in his big brown eyes.

“Oh, no, you know these are the highlights of my week,” she mused back, flashing a cheeky grin that had him smiling back immediately. He pulled a bag of bud out of his box, and it was a lot; her eyes were glued to the hefty amount of weed in the plastic bag. She could feel his stare burning her skin as she struggled to meet eyes again. “How much would I have to pay you to roll for me? I’m just not as good at it as you are.”

“Princess, you know flattery is the way to my heart,” he openly flirted, “For you? I’d roll your whole bag for free. Only price is that you’d have to pick up your goods from me later at my place, it’s gonna take some time to roll all of this up.”

The pet name caused her cheeks to burn, and he must have noticed the effect that that had on her because his grin turned deviously large. She managed to stutter out, “Y-yeah, that’d be c-cool.”

“C-cool?” he mocked, eating up her nervousness and having it boost his confidence. “Don’t tell me you're clamming up on me, sweetheart.”

She rolled her eyes, releasing her tension with a breathy chuckle. “Don’t play dumb with me, Munson, you know you’re hot,” she joked, hoping he would drop the subject of her anxiety if she called out the reason for it.

“You think I’m hot?” he asked. His tone had changed from his usual flirtatiousness to actual intrigue. She dropped the cash on the table in front of him, hoping to escape the mess she had created.

“So, where do you live? And when do you want me to meet you there?”

He raised an eyebrow at her, giving her a look that said, So, we’re just gonna skip over what you just admitted? Her unmoving stare answered his question and he moved on, taking her money off of the table and answering her with, “The trailer park. I’m the big silver one. Van outside. You’ll know it when you see it. And... how about nine?”

“Nine’s good,” she uttered, swiftly turning away from the table and taking off in a blushing rush, tucking her hair behind her ears as she power-walked away from the table as fast as she could.

“Alright, see you at nine, princess!” she heard Eddie call from behind.

*~*~*

Nine p.m. had finally rolled around, and she managed to find his trailer in the trailer park. She recognized his van, sweeping her fingers along the side of it as she made her way to his front door. Or, the only door of his trailer.

Admittedly, she had gotten a little dolled up. She didn’t change her outfit, for that would have been way too obvious, but she did add a touch of makeup, just enough to make her eyes pop in the way she likes and make her lip look extra kissable.

Taking in a deep breath, she knocked softly on the door three times. The third knock was cut off by the door swinging open and Eddie’s tall figure stood in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe.

“Hey there, sweet thing, you come here often?” he flirted, tilting his head to the side and looking her up and down obnoxiously. The exaggeration of his attempt at flirting drew a giggle out of her, rewarding Eddie with a sense of satisfaction at making her laugh.

“Got the goods?” she asked, taking a step towards the door, and he moved out of her way to let her in. She scanned over the piles of cassettes and VHS tapes, noting his abundance of horror movies and metal music, which she had expected. The smell of cigarettes and dust lingered in the air, which she didn’t mind at all. She’d never admit it because of all the medical propaganda her family dumped on her, but she thought it was cool that he smoked cigarettes. She had seen him lighting up a few times before in his van while leaving school, and she just couldn’t deny what seeing that little stick hanging from his lips did to her.

“Yeah, uh, sorry about the mess,” he said, rubbing the back of his head with his hand. She had never seen him be bashful before, and heart did a little leap as she had found it endearing.

“It’s fine, Eddie. I can promise my bedroom is much worse,” she joked, still looking around his trailer. She hadn’t realized it, but he noticed that that was the first time she had ever referred to him as Eddie. To everyone but his club, he was always Munson, always the freak. His heart did a leap too in that moment.

“Oh! I got your goods in here,” he said, dipping away to fetch the baggie of joints he had pre-rolled for her. Damn, he was right. That was a lot of joints. She stared at the bag in awe.

Being in his home must have given her a small sense of confidence, because she proceeded to nervously ask him, “Um... if it’s not too much to ask, would you like to smoke one with me...?”

He stared at her with an indecipherable expression. She couldn’t tell if he was deciding for or against smoking with her, and she broke eye contact and looked down as a nervous habit. She started to backtrack, “Y-you don’t have to, I just—”

“Fuck, yeah. I’d love to.” He dropped a big dimply grin, infecting her with the giggles.

He opened the bag and pulled one of the neatly rolled joints out before zipping it closed and passing it back to her. She put the baggie of joints in her bag quickly, pulling out her own small bright blue handheld lighter. She gave the lighter to Eddie before mentioning, “Don’t forget to give that back, it’s my only lighter.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, princess,” he answered smugly before extending an arm in a silent invitation to sit on the couch, and she obliged. She sank down on the old couch, and it felt more comfortable than her own couch at home. He plopped down next to her hard, rocking her and the couch, before holding the joint out for her to take. “You go first,” he said, tilting his head down to look at her with a devilish grin.

“Gladly,” she said, leaning forward and catching the end of the joint on her lips, taking it from him without using her hands. “Light me up?” she asked through the joint on her lips.

“Gladly,” he returned, using her wording against her. He held the little blue lighter to the end of the joint, flicking the gear and igniting it. She hovered over the flame for a moment before pulling back to breathe it in, puffing on the joint heavily before Eddie swiftly grabbed it from her lips.

The burn in her lungs felt like a warm tingle spreading through the inside of her chest, but it was the burn in her throat that made her cough. She coughed an embarrassing amount, her face and eyes turning red from it. “Hey, it’s supposed to be puff puff pass,” she whined in a manner that conveyed she wasn’t serious, but her mangled voice was what made Eddie laugh.

He gave a dark chuckle before saying, “Like you’d say no to me, sweetheart.” He held her gaze intensely as he hit the joint, taking in a deep puff before letting out a billowing cloud of smoke, blowing the smoke into her face teasingly. She laughed at his gesture, waving away the cloud.

After they had gone back and forth, taking turns of the joint until it was just a roach, she put the roach down on the ashtray on his coffee table. Eddie had some of his music playing as they were both leaning back against the couch, heads staring at the ceiling as they felt the weed kick in.

She began to feel fuzzy, her body feeling so heavy like it was sinking further into the couch. She let out a light stoner laugh as she felt the tingles spread down to her fingertips and toes, feeling her brain swirl around like the room was spinning. The voice of her consciousness sounded out loud, and her speaking voice sounded too quiet like it was in her head. But her absolute favorite part of getting high was the sense that she truly had no other care in the world, just bliss and fuzziness and oversaturated colors. It felt like peace.

“This shit fucks so hard, Eddie,” she said, her brain confused to if she even said those words aloud.

She lazily tilted her head towards him, watching with heavy eyes as he stared at the ceiling. She couldn’t help but stare. It was definitely the weed heightening this thought, but she couldn’t help but notice how pretty he was. His big brown eyes with the long eyelashes, his dimples that suited his cheeks so well, his sharp jaw and strong chin, and oh, those plump, kissable lips.

“Eddie...?” she whispered, pulling his gaze from the ceiling to her.

“Yeah, princess?”

His eyes were so red. She would have laughed if she wasn’t about to say, “Has anyone ever told you how pretty you are?”

He laughed slower than usual, so she could tell he was deep in his high like she was. Their conversation felt like it was happening underwater, and his voice tickled her ears as he replied, “Damn it, babe, I was supposed to call you pretty first.”

She felt the laughter bubble in her chest first, slowly erupting from her mouth, her brain feeling disconnected from the process. “Beat you to it. Sucks to suck, Munson.”

His eyes drooped, and he glanced at her lips before looking back into her eyes. “You are, y’know. Pretty.”

She looked away out of habit before giving a huff. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious,” he said, turning his body so he was facing her. “I was surprised you even wanted to smoke with me. Hell, I’m surprised you even wanted to buy from me. The cute girl in my Calculus class wanted to buy from me? How did I get so lucky?”

She turned her body so she was facing him, leaning her swirling head against the couch. Her eyeballs felt fuzzy as she looked up at him with doe eyes. “You think I’m the cute girl in class? You dummy, I think you’re the cute boy in class. Why do you think I let you cheat off of my work?”

His eyes stared deeply into hers, and he glanced at her lips briefly again. This time, she returned the favor by glancing at his. She felt her heart racing in her chest, every thump echoed through her body until her extremities felt numb. He placed his large hand on the side of her face, and the coolness of the rings were like a shock to her as he swiped over her lips with his thumb. His touch felt electrifying, as if every nerve cell in her body was magnetized to his skin. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, in the softest tone she had ever heard from his lips.

“You fucking better,” she joked and was immediately pulled in. When their lips met, it felt like fireworks were going off inside of her. Tingles shot up the back of her neck and crept up the base of her skull, capturing her in pure bliss as Eddie’s lips melted into her own. She could taste the weed and hint of cigarettes in his mouth, and she could hear the heavy breathing from his nose against her face. It was all she ever dreamed of, plus some. She had never enjoyed kissing other boys, mushing mouths always felt so awkward and unnatural. But with Eddie, now, all she wanted was to feel the soft fleshy wet mess of tongue against tongue. Her heightened sensations from the weed mixed with her established crush on Eddie had her already giving out soft moans into his mouth, and she could just feel him smile against her mouth in return. She felt his big warm hands place themselves on her waist, and she leaned in further, pressing her chest against his.

She didn’t even feel when her hands had moved to grip his Hellfire Club shirt until he pulled back. “Damn, why have we never done this before?” he said in a deep husky voice.

“Because I get nervous,” she said, feeling the words spill out before she had time to think of a proper response. She looked down and fiddled with the neckline of his shirt before saying, “And because this weed’s got me feeling brave, Eddie.”

“Just how brave are we talking?” he asked, thinking she wouldn’t notice his quick glance down at her body. She did notice. In that moment, her body felt hot to the touch, and then the weed did something it had never done before. Maybe she had just never been horny and high at the same time, but the way the pot in her system sent her body into maximum overdrive at the way Eddie eyed her body had her throbbing hard in her jeans. Her nerves were ablaze everywhere, especially there, and she could just feel her underwear becoming increasingly more damp the longer she stared at him.

“Really brave,” she muttered, unable to speak above a whisper due to the intense craving her body was feeling. He flashed that dimply grin like he knew she couldn’t resist it and moved his hands to cup her face. She let her neck go lax, melting into his touch and letting him hold the weight of her head. His hands felt so hot against her face, and then he leaned in so close that his lips brushed against hers as he spoke.

“You ever fucked a future rockstar?” he inquired, his eyes looking darker and deeper than ever.

A chill ran down her spine at his words, and a let out a shaky exhale before admitting, “I’ve haven’t ever fucked.”

He immediately dropped his charismatic persona, pulling back with a look of concern in his eyes. “I’d offer, but I don’t think it would be right to... deflower you... in such a state...” He began to trail off, but she put a finger to his lips.

“Eddie, right now, I’ve never wanted anything else so god damn bad,” she said, unable to take her eyes off of his perfect plump lips. “Only reason I never have is because I’ve never liked anyone else this much.”

She watched as his lips morphed from a concerned flat line back into that devilish smile she liked to see so much. It infected her, making her smile wide as well, and the tip of her finger felt like it was buzzing as she traced along his smiling lips with her finger. The underwater feeling returned as she leaned up to bring his lips back into a kiss, laying back on the couch and pulling him down with her so that he was laying on top of her and kissing her.

“Damn, you really do get brave when you smoke,” he chuckled, and the deep chuckle rumbled in her ears as she caught his lips again, opening her mouth to invite him into hers. His tongue slid across hers, feeling hot and slimy, and she loved it, returning the gesture. She felt him slowly drop all of his body weight onto hers, and the pressure against her lower abdomen caused her to let out a small gasp into his mouth. He felt her gasp, taking a sense of pride in being the one to make her feel this way and pressed himself against her again, feeling his own excitement start to build.

She spread her knees apart, allowing him to lay between her legs, and he willingly obliged to taking the position, sliding his denim-clad crotch against hers. The friction of him pressing the seam of her jeans into her elicited the smallest moan from her, and Eddie repeated this against but harder, fulling grinding into her as their mouths danced and his clothed erection rubbed against her. Her fingers found their way into his long hair, her nails accidentally scratching against his scalp, making him groan into her mouth. The sounds and feelings that he was giving her welded together in a fuzzy entanglement, making her already spinning head feel like she was on air. She felt his warm hands snake down from her face down to the hem of her shirt, dipping his fingers underneath the fabric to brush against her hot skin. The sudden coldness of the rings made her slightly jump, and he pulled back, worry apparent on his face. His eyes nonverbally asked, Is this too much?

“Sorry, your rings are just cold,” she giggled, before taking the initiative to lift her own shirt over her head, revealing the black bra underneath. Truth be told, after school she had switched into her fancier undergarments in the hopes that something would happen between them. And she was appreciative to her past self for making that decision. He stared in awe at her chest, all pushed together by the tight black bra and looking extra plump in the dim trailer lighting. He took the chance to bury his face in her cleavage, sucking and smacking on the soft flesh, leaving little reddish purple spots in his wake, causing her to moan and lightly buck her hips up. She was already turned on, but now she just felt like an animal in heat, all wet and needy for him. He pulled a nipple out of its bra cup and took it into his mouth, swirling his tongue softly on the hardened bud, and she felt waves of tingles flow through her body, half from the high and half from the pleasure he was bringing her just from sucking on her naked skin. When she had gripped his hair so hard she was worried she’d accidentally yank it out, he grinned against her soft skin, just knowing how he was affecting her untouched body.

“That feel good, princess?” he whispered, releasing her nipple from his mouth, pulling back to look in her eyes. He had never seen her, or anyone, look so desperate and needy. Hell, she would have begged if he told her to. She looked up at him with pleading doe eyes, and he just melted at the sight. “C’mon, baby, use your words.” His deep voice dripped like honey into her ears, and she felt the shift in her core that made her need some friction down there.

She whispered back, “Please keep touching me.”

He chuckled and with a teasing voice said, “Oh, baby, you think that is me touching you? You don’t even know.”

He unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans, pulling them down her thighs until she lifted her legs above his head so that he could pull them off of her calves. He threw the jeans on the floor next to her shirt, keeping her legs up with his hands. She didn’t realize she was panting as he slid his hands down her legs, letting them drop on either side of him while he gazed tenderly at her damp panties.

“Already so wet for me, baby? That’s so sweet of you,” he teased, hooking his finger under the wet patch and pulling her underwear to the side. She gawked at him unabashedly as he swiped his fingers up her wet slit, his fingers feeling cold against her heat. She whimpered at the cold sensation, accidentally bucking her hips. The high had left her brain and traveled south, making her body feel abuzz as he rubbed up and down her slit a couple of times, barely grazing the sensitive nub at the top.

“God, you’re so hot,” she heard him say, but her eyes screwed shut at the sensation of her throbbing cunt being touched so gently. When she felt a finger prod her hole, she gasped, letting him know she was very ready to be entered. A thick finger entered her, and she moaned loudly as he pushed his finger all the way in, his thumb still rubbing up and down. He slowly pulled out and pushed back in his finger, choosing to add a second one. The second finger made her feel the slight stretch, and she moaned louder at the sensation. He started pumping his fingers in and out of her, starting a new building sensation in her core. The faster he pumped, the more he bumped that sensitive nub with his thumb, and that feeling inside of her felt like something deep was about to explode. She unashamedly rutted her hips against his hand, letting out more whimpers and moans than she ever had before in her life. And just as she teetered the edge of that sinfully delicious explosion, he stopped completely, pulling his fingers out of her and leaving her a panting, soaking mess.

Her throat hitched, releasing an audible whine, making Eddie laugh. He leaned over her, his painfully hard but fully covered erection hovering over her sopping heat, and said, “Now see, baby, that was me touching you.”

She was speechless and desperate, needing any sort of attention back on her tingling loins. “Will you please fuck me?” she timidly asked, relinquishing any morsel of control she had and completely throwing the ball in his court.

“Of course, princess,” he said with a wink. He paused to sit up and look around the small living room of the trailer before declaring, “But not here.”

“Not here?” she breathed out.

“C’mere, we’re going to my room,” he said, lifting himself quickly off of the couch before turning around to swoop down and suddenly lift her off of the cozy furniture, bridal-style. She reveled in the romance of it all, feeling most definitely like a princess with her handsome knight in shining armor, freely laughing as he carried her to his little room.

Eddie’s bedroom smelled a lot more like weed than his living room, and she could guess where he smoked most of the time. Metal and rock posters lined the walls, and towers of cassettes, books, and VHS tapes littered the floor.

He ducked down to lay her down gently on the bed before yanking his Hellfire club shirt over his head quickly and tossing it on a pile of discarded clothes on the floor. She stared at his bare torso, admiring his tattoos, and he just ate it up. He smiled before dropping himself down on the bed over her. “You ready for more, sweetheart?”

"Yes,” she blurted out with zero hesitation, eagerly nodding and eyeing the tent in his jeans hungrily. He followed her line of sight, smirking to himself when he realized she was staring straight at his boner. He leaned back, looking down to undo his jeans before he shimmied them off, letting the tent in his boxers swing free, before throwing his jeans onto the pile of clothes to join his shirt. He then resumed his place, crawling over her as she laid back on his bed, his clothed erection grazing her legs and then her abdomen as he climbed up her body. Using his forearms to hover over her, she dug her fingers into his hair and pulled him into a steamy kiss. As their mouths meshed together again, he steadily lowered himself so that their half-naked bodies were flush against each other, and she could feel his stiffness nestle right into the crotch of her panties, making her let out a shaky breath.

He slithered his large hands down her body before reaching her underwear, hooking his fingers into the sides before pulling from the kiss to ask, “Can I take these off?”

“Only if you say please,” she joked, mentally slapping herself for choosing this moment to toss in a joke. But, like the good sport he was, Eddie was quick to respond.

“Please, oh please, may I take thy panties off?” he mused back, but looked confounded when he saw her flinch. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re very hot, Eddie, but please don’t use the word panties. It just feels so weird when guys say it.”

“Panties.”

“Eddie, I’m serious. It feels icky.”

“Panties.”

“Dude!”

“Panties!” he yelled, waving his hands in her face and laughing hard at the cringing expression on her face. She couldn’t help but join in his laugh, being able to look at their conversation in a different light, and seeing how ridiculous they sounded.

She sighed, shaking her head in an endeared manner as she said, “Fine. Thou may remove mine panties,” returning the joke of Old English speak.

He gave an exaggerated groan and said, “God, you’d do so well in DnD. That’s so hot.”

“Ist thou removing mine panties, or what?” she asked flatly, hoping to get back on track to their sexual shenanigans.

“Oh! Right, yes,” he said before theatrically yanking down her underwear and tossing them over his shoulder. All of the laughing and giggling stopped when he laid eyes on her sopping cunt. She could just see his erection strain against the thin fabric of his boxers. He pulled them down, letting his boner spring free, and his length slapped against her thigh. She hadn’t expected it, but the boy was hung. She gawked at his long extremity, and he let her, taking pride in her jaw dropping. She looked back up into his eyes and smiled when he asked, “You ready?”

“Mhm,” she mumbled before wrapping her hand around his member, but he put his hand over hers to stop her, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do.

“Woah, wait, do we need a condom?” he asked, gingerly stroking his thumb over her hand.

She shook her head, “I’m on the pill, Eddie.”

He grinned in response, before taking the reins to line the tip up to her still-soaking entrance. When he started to push in, she felt the swirling feeling coming back to her head, and she couldn’t tell if she was still so high or if this was a new feeling, being already cock-drunk on Eddie. The stretch of him felt sharp for a moment, but she felt too blissful to react to it, pulling his head down to attach her lips to his once more. Their mouths hung open against each other’s as he fully sheathed himself in her, and this time she did let a small whimper of pain escape. Her pain immediately dissolved into pleasure as she adjusted to his size.

When he began to move inside of her, starting slow as he pulled out and pushed back in ever so gently, she was still a moaning mess, moaning against his open mouth.

“That feel good, baby?” he asked, and his words had never felt so sugary sweet. All she could do was moan in response, her moan raising in pitch as it caught in her throat. He broke their kiss to watch her face, her expression conveying euphoria as he slid in and out of her. Her tight walls felt so good on his cock; he would have finished then and there if he wasn’t so focused on her. He snuck a hand down between their bodies, searching for her sensitive little nub, and once he found it and began drawing small circles around it with his finger, she could feel that building sensation return. And he could tell from her moans getting progressively louder. He wanted her first time to be everything she could have wished for, so he started to pick up his pace and thrusted harder and faster into her, keeping his finger steady on her clit.

Sparks were shooting through her body, centered around her lower abdomen, and she wrapped her legs around Eddie to keep him closer, even though she knew he wasn’t going anywhere. The steady circling around her clit became sloppy as he let himself pound into her hard, and she felt his member reach impossible depths inside of her. The faster and harder pace of his cock sliding in and out of her, stretching her from the inside out, had her digging her nails hard into Eddie’s shoulder blades as she felt her hips begin to chase that tension building in her. She let herself get lost in the pleasure of it all, the tingles in her brain all the way down to her fingers and toes mixed with the waves of pleasure coming from her abdomen had her toes curling and her eyes squeezed shut. She felt her walls begin to squeeze tighter as the tension inside of her began to reach its peak, like a string about to snap.

She suddenly felt her face being grabbed by a strong hand, her jaw entirely encapsulated. “Look at me,” his voice demanded, and she opened her eyes pitifully, giving him the eye contact he wanted. Eddie had always been so silly, such a tease. It was shocking yet so deeply arousing to hear such sternness in his voice. “I wanna see it in your face when I make you come.”

“Eddie,” she whimpered, “I think I’m gonna—”

“I know, baby, I can feel it. Be a good girl and come for me.”

And with his words, that string inside of her snapped, and she let out a squealing moan as she experienced her orgasm in waves, feeling her walls pulsate and stretch over his cock while her body went completely lax. He continued to pound through it all, letting out aggressive grunts as he thrusted through the clenching of her walls, giving her continuous echoes of her orgasm until his pace stuttered. He released a gentle moan with his own release, prolonging it with extra pushes into her until he felt his own hot liquid seep out of her tight hole that was clenched around his member. He pulled out slowly, and she whined at the sudden emptiness inside of her.

“God damn,” he huffed with a tired smile before dropping his body onto hers, burying his face in her naked chest. She giggled at this, playing with his hair and scratching her nails over his scalp.

They stayed like that for a good long moment, basking in their post-coital bliss, until she noticed the clock next his bed. She read the time with a gasp. “Oh my god, it’s like three in the morning! Shit, I gotta get home.”

They climbed out of Eddie’s bed reluctantly, gathering their clothes from his bedroom floor and from the living room floor. They hadn’t spoken a word yet, both too nervous to wreck the good thing they had going, until Eddie couldn’t take the tension anymore. “Okay, so... I guess I’ll see you on Monday?” he asked, not sure of what to say but wanting to desperately to beg to spend more time with her.

“Yeah,” she shrugged, before pausing a long moment to suggest, “or we could hang out like tomorrow, or technically later today... Uh, if you’re not busy...”

He absolutely beamed at her words. She did want to spend more time with him. He felt excitement blossom in his chest as their little situation felt like the beginning of something special. “Tomorrow—er, later today—would be awesome.”

She let out a nervous, breathy chuckle. “Cool.”

“Cool,” he repeated back to her. They fell into silence again, but it was comfortable silence this time.

“I, uh,” she began, gesturing to the door.

“Oh! Yes, of course,” he said, stepping out of her way and opening the door for her. When he opened the door, the cold night air hit her like a ton of bricks and she shivered, regretting leaving her sweater in class earlier that day.

He witnessed her slight shiver, instantly saying, “Wait right here,” before dipping away to grab something from his bedroom. He came back with his iconic denim and leather jacket, offering it to her. “It’s really cold out tonight,” he shrugged, like giving her his jacket was no big deal.

“I can’t take your jacket,” she said, attempting to politely decline.

He hung it on her shoulders and said, “Well, you can give it back later,” both as a way to make her more comfortable but also as a way to express that he hopes she sticks to their plans.

“Okay,” she breathed, “and you’ll have to give back my lighter.”

And with that, she was on her way home with plans to see Eddie tomorrow.

*~*~*

A/N: my first Eddie fic !!! Part of me wants to do a part 2 so bad, but pls let me know how u feel about it omg <3 lov u guys

#stranger things #stranger things eddie #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut

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