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emchant3d · 5 months

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modern au, exes to lovers, transfem stevie harrington

Stevie Harrington is not having a good day.

By all accounts, she should be. Robin woke her right on time by pressing a perfectly made brown sugar shaken espresso into her hand. Nancy and Chrissy got to the venue earlier than expected. The hair and makeup people were on schedule. Their boozy charcuterie brunch during their prep time was perfectly served, the mimosas delicious and the food fresh and light enough to put on her nervous stomach.

Everything’s gone off without a hitch. She looks gorgeous. She’s got her something old, her something new, her something borrowed, and even her something blue. Her hair’s done in a soft blowout, framing her face but out of the way, ready for the combs of her veil to slip into. Her makeup is elegant, not too showy and not too dramatic, neutral and warm and sweet. And her dress. It’s what she always dreamed of, clingy and silky with a dramatic leg slit and a long train, off the shoulders, perfectly white. She’s staring at herself in the mirror knowing that in forty-five minutes, she’s going to hold the world’s most beautiful wedding bouquet and walk down the most perfectly decorated aisle in the quaintest, sweetest church she could find, and she’ll stand across from her fiancé and take his hands and say “I do” and all of her dreams will come true.

So she should be having a good day.

Because it’s her wedding day, and Stevie Harrington is about to become Stefania Hagan.

Maybe that brunch wasn’t so perfect after all, because she thinks she’s about to puke.

“I can’t do this,” she says, but her voice is so soft it’s barely a whisper and the girls don’t even glance at her. “I can’t do this,” she repeats, and Robin - bless her, her favorite person in the world, her soulmate, her other half, her maid of honor - glances up.

“What’s that, Evie?” she asks, and the others look over at her, and Stevie stands there beneath their gazes and knows if she just says it again, says I can’t do this, don’t make me marry him, get me out of here, all three of them would drag her to an exit and get her the fuck out.

They don’t even like Tommy. Robin actively hates him, actually, and that should have been enough for Stevie to never look at him twice.

But it wasn’t. It wasn’t enough.

She thinks back to a few days ago, drunk in a bar with a white sash wrapped around her torso, a tiara on her head, and mascara running down her face as she desperately sobbed on Robin’s shoulder during her bachelorette party. That little meltdown wasn’t enough. And she thinks back further, to when Tommy proposed - in public, at a fucking baseball game, on the goddamn jumbotron. Dread had settled in her chest at the sight of the ring (huge, gaudy, she hated it on sight) even as she pasted on a smile and said yes. That hadn’t been enough.

But somehow standing here done up head to toe, about to walk down the aisle in her absolute dream wedding - that’s enough. Because everything about today is right. Everything’s in place. Everything’s gorgeous and going to plan and she should be so, so happy - but it’s the wrong man waiting for her at the end of all of it.

She can’t do this.

She looks up and meets Robin’s eyes and forces a smile. “I said I need to get my veil,” she lies, and she slips into her shoes (red bottoms, a gift from Tommy’s mother, perfectly white and pointed and it’s her dream day, how can she be throwing this away?) and walks into the other room where her garment bag is hanging, and her veil is there with its delicate detail and it’s scalloped edges and it’s all so fucking perfect she’s going to scream, she wants to rip it to pieces and she wants to tear this dress off and she wants to sob, she doesn’t want to do this, she doesn’t want to get married - not to him. Not to Tommy.

She could ask for help. Robin would have her out of here in five minutes flat, Nancy would craft an excuse to tell everyone, and Chrissy would cause a distraction. But even that’s too long of a wait. Even that’s too much attention, too much suspicion. She needs to move faster than that. She needs out now.

She quickens her pace as she crosses the room, dress dragging along the carpet, and she snags her phone where it’s sitting on the end table next to an overstuffed love seat, and in three long strides she’s out the door and in the hall and the church has been busy and packed all day but somehow, miraculously, there’s no one here.

No one sees Stevie as she gathers up the fabric of her dress in her hands and starts to walk towards the exit. No one sees as her walk speeds to a jog, and then a run, and then she slams out of a side door and she’s on the sidewalk and she’s sprinting, her heels are going to get scuffed by the pavement but she can’t care, she’s running as fast as she can and dodging people on the sidewalk as they turn and gawk at her and she cannot give them a thought, cannot focus on them even a little bit because she has to get away, escape is the only thought on her mind as she gasps for air, her dress is so heavy and it’s not made for running that’s for goddamn sure, and the last few years with Tommy flash through her mind - every time he’s undermined her or given her a backhanded compliment or policed her, told her she wasn’t feminine enough, told her she wasn’t trying hard enough to pass, told her to just keep it all to herself so no one would know she wasn’t cis, wouldn’t embarrass him by making a scene, all the times that come together to a glaringly obvious conclusion that he doesn’t really love her and she kind of hates him a little actually, and obviously she can’t fucking marry him and–

There.

A beat-up four-door with an Uber sticker in the window.

That’ll do, she thinks, and she changes course, shoulder-checking a man and not apologizing for it as she makes a beeline for the car. She pops off an acrylic wrenching the door open and tossing herself into the backseat, and she yells “DRIVE!” at the top of her lungs and somehow, through some miracle, they listen, swerving into traffic with a loud curse and a myriad of honking horns and a quaint, sweet little church growing smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror.

She’s gasping for breath, chest heaving, staring out the back window like she’s waiting for someone to follow her - and maybe she is, maybe Tommy is hot on her trail, or maybe Robin is coming to kill her for not including her in her mad dash to freedom and instead jumping in a stranger’s car going God knows where.

“So uh,” a voice says, and she whips around, staring wide-eyed at the brown eyes fixed on her in the mirror, and no, no fucking way– “where to, ma’am?”

“Um,” she says, and her voice is shaky, cracking a little, she brushes her hair out of her face and stares and– wait.

There’s a beat. The driver’s eyes widen. Recognition flashes over his face at the same time it registers for Stevie.

“Stevie?” Eddie Munson, her ex-boyfriend of several years, the man she hasn’t spoken to since that fateful night they went their separate ways, is staring at her in shock, not even looking at the road, and the only thing she can think is how he’s just as averse to road safety now as he’d been way back when.

“Eddie,” she croaks out.

Too many emotions are overwhelming her at once and it feels like the biggest cliché in the world, but honestly, Stevie feels like she’s entitled to some dramatics. It’s her goddamn wedding day, after all.

Her failed wedding day.

Where she just left her fiancé at the altar.

“Oh god,” she manages. Her lower lip wobbles. Her vision blurs.

“Stevie,” Eddie says again, like a warning, and that’s enough to push her over.

She bursts into tears in his backseat.

“Hey hey hey!” he says like she’s a fucking spooked horse or something, which only makes her cry more, ugly sobs that shake her shoulders and drip tear drops onto her dress. “Stevie, honey–”

“Do NOT call me honey right now!” she manages, and he raises a hand in surrender before flipping on a turn signal and finding a parking lot to pull over in.

“Okay, okay! No comforting pet names, you got it,” he agrees, and he shuts the car off, turning in his seat to look at her, concern painted all over his face and that’s just really not fair, she thinks, that he still looks so earnest and sweet and fucking worried about her.

“Are you hurt?” he asks, urgent and serious, and she shakes her head quickly.

“No! No, I’m - I’m fine, really,” she insists and he proves that he is a gentleman after all, because he doesn’t call her out on the blatant lie.

“Okay,” he says, level, his hand hovering in the space between them like he wants to touch her. “What do you need?” he asks, and she wipes at her face with her hands, swallowing down yet another sob.

“Get me out of here,” she pleads, and he searches her face for - something, she doesn’t know what, because she’s sure all she’s showing him is how much of a fucking mess she is, but he must find whatever he’s looking for.

He gives her a sharp nod. “Anywhere in particular, sweetheart?” he asks, turning to start the car again. She doesn’t call him out on the pet name this time.

“Anywhere but here,” she says, and he puts the car in reverse, pulling back onto the road.

“You got it,” he says, and some of that old charm must kick in - he winks at her in the rearview. She resolutely ignores the spike of emotion it gives her.

Then she takes a deep, shuddery breath, and opens the group chat to break the news to her wedding party.

part 2

#steddie #steddie fic #trans steve harrington #transfeminine steve harrington #stevie harrington #runaway bride stevie #my fic #apologies in advance but i don't do tag lists <3

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tteokdoroki · 3 months

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hi hi !! :3 first off ur new theme is soo so cute!! n for your valentines event i wanted to send in one for satoru + an amusement park date as the gift !! you can make it sweet or spicy but i don’t have a specific kink in mind for it so that’s free range for ya ehehe

⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡. — SATORU GOJO. swipe spicy: high on you.

about. boom, it’s a match! satoru gojo has always come up with creative ways to celebrate the most romantic day of the year. this time, he decides to make things a little naughtier atop a ferris wheel ride ( 1.4K ).

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, established relationships, fingering, public sex, exhibitionism, also ik ferris wheels don’t exist at amusement parks shuddap!! fem!reader.

・:〃⤥ bumble date, swipe right event !

every valentine’s day you’ve spent with satoru has been unique. different.

for your first, he’d filled every corner of your apartment with every type of flower he could possible find because he wasn’t sure what type was your favourite (he was too nervous to ask). for the second, he’d rented out an entire aquarium for you to walk through and dragging him through each exhibition with pure unfiltered joy. for the Valentine’s Day that he had proposed — your third or fourth, satoru had rented a plane that carried the message ‘will you marry me?’ to fly over your rooftop dinner date. you’d said yes, of course, and every day with satoru since had been a wild ride.

even now, years into your life together, he remained just as crafty and as adventurous as satoru’s gojo had always been.

“s-satoru!” you squeal needily, tucking your face into your lover’s shoulder in a weak attempt to muffle your weak cries and trembling voice. “‘toru please. n-not here. n-not now,” you add when his slender and inquisitive fingers dip past the waistband of your jeans and the scalloped edge of your cotton panties. he’s been like this all day, feeling you up in line for different rides, licking the sugar from your fingers outside overpriced concessions stands dotted across the amusement park he'd taken you to. and now, satoru’s ravenousness has come to a head — with him trying to finger fuck you at the top of the ferris wheel. “p-people are around!”

while typically a romantic spot to watch the world go by, the white haired man has his heart set on making you squirm and cry at the highest peak of the ride. “that’s what makes this all the more fun, right baby?” his digits flex under the rough denim of your jeans in an attempt to get a feel for your wetness all while gojo whispers sinful words against the shell of your ear — hot breath cascading down the back of your neck and sending shivers down your spine. “relax for me, we’re too high up for anyone to notice. let me make you feel good, yeah?”

your hips buck down against your lover’s hand for a taste of friction — chasing the blistering hot sensation that spreads through your lower tummy once his fingertips come into contact with your swelling, pulsating clit. the very notion of your body succumbing to a few of gojo’s simple touches has him chuckling breathily in your ear, his voice an octave lower than usual. you can’t help the instinctual response of your quivering, a stream of wetness gathering in the seat of your underwear too.

“do you think i can make you cum by the time we reach the top?” satoru mumbles huskily, lowering his head to your neck so that he can place hot, sloppy kisses to your exposed skin — contrasting with the night air. tufts of white hair tickle at your jaw, sending you into a fit of shakes and shivers that make your cart of the ferris wheel rock back and forth. “don’t answer that, i know i can.” he’s cocky when he teases you and has every right to be, your thighs twitch apart instinctively to make space for satoru’s hand between them.

he skilfully massages your pretty little pussy even from underneath tight denim jeans, circling in your entrance as it dribbles sweet salacious nectar for him. so much so, that you might soil the fabric of your clothes. if your arousal seeps through, would you drip and gush on all those people below? the thought crosses your might and only serves to turn you on even more — evident in the way you clench around nothing as gojo plays with your empty hole.

“m-mph, satoru,” you hiccup, only tilting your head to face his. your noses nudge slightly, lips ghosting over one another’s while your hot breath mingles. to anyone else — you appear a couple in love, innocently kissing, enjoying a date to the amusement park, and a ride to the top of the ferris wheel. but you’re far from that, and you know it, two delightfully sinful individuals who can’t keep their hands off of one another. “m-more!”

gojo obliges, and you thank whatever diety is up above for blessing him with such magical fingers. two of them slide past your entrance without resistance, stretching your gooey and sensitive walls around their length easily. “hm? what’s the matter, baby?” comes the silver haired man’s lazy response, a sleazy smirk spreading across his plush pink lips at the sound of you squelching around him already. you shake your head at his question, eyes screwed shut since you’re too far gone with the pleasure to answer coherently.

from your side, gojo uses his free hand to keep you nice and spread for him — sapphire eyes glowing in the dark night whilst remaining trained on the way your hips jut down to push back against his fingers inside of you. “god you’re so fuckin’ wet. you really like this, huh? all tbose unsuspecting people below…having no idea that i’m fucking your pussy open right above their heads,” he purrs hungrily and curls his fingers, instantly finding your g-spot because he’s mapped out every inch of your sopping walls and knows them off by heart. “taste yourself for me.”

your lips part on command and tongue rolls out of your mouth to make room for the fingers that have been inside you — sucking on them diligently when satoru presses down on the palette of your tongue. he gets off to the way you taste yourself, moaning around him nastily. you should feel shame and humiliation for acting like this in public, all desperate and needy, but you’re as ravenous and as depraved as satoru is. it’s what makes you a match made in heaven.

with his fingers now tainted with a crude mix of your saliva and arousal, satoru returns them to your temperate and sopping mound — stuffing you full of him once more. he’s knuckle deep in your cunt before you can even moan his name, stroking your insides into the shape of him while you drool syrupy evidence of your arousal into the seat of his palm.

“we’re almost to the top, brace yourself, pretty girl. i gotta see you cum. it’ll give me the prettiest view.” satoru coos to you patronisingly, making sure to grind his wrist against your puffy clit — refusing to let it go unattended. “can you do that for me?”

everything is so sticky and hot, especially with all of the layers of clothes in the way — shielding your dirty act from any onlookers on the ground or in the carts below you. strings of your slick tie satoru’s fingers to your honeyed sex and glue this thumb to your sensitive nub, tucked away between your puffy pussy lips. you claw at the silver haired man’s arm trapped in the middle of your quivering thighs band writhe around in the cart so much so that it creaks with the weight.

you whimper into the cool night air, but satoru lights your body on fire from the inside out — your gut lurching and twisting with an unbearable sense of yearning. “‘m close… think i’m gonna—“ you begin to stutter, bleating like a lamb being sent to the slaughter. you remain at the mercy of your boyfriend’s fast paced fingers, pumping in and out of you with no regard to the painful stack of ecstasy building up inside of you. “please, i can’t hold it, ‘toru,”

“you don’t have to,” your lover tsks in reply, never slowing the speed of his digits stroking at your ribbed walls, slipping and sliding against pleasure spots only he knows exist. “why don’t you let go for me, yeah? there you go. that’s it… just like that and all for me,” satoru’s mouth find yours in the final stretch, sloppy praises whispered against your kiss swollen lips while he rubs over your luscious and equally swollen folds like his life depends on it. “let the people down there know how fuckin’ good i finger fuck this sweet pussy. cum for me baby, i know you can do it.”

each syllable, each impassioned word that escapes him and that he pours into you drags you by the ankle towards your high — and you don’t even try to fight it. once you reach the very top of the ferris wheel, your peak reaches a crescendo. satoru flings himself over you, arm arm wrapped around your shoulders to keep you in place in the cart as your orgasm crashes over you in drowning waves. you slip beneath the surface of pleasure, your cunt rushing like a river while you cum all over satoru’s masterful hand with a muffled cry of his name.

“satoru!”

“shh, quiet…that’s my girl, my sweet sweet girl.” he sighs dreamily, fucking you with your fingers throughout your high — only pulling out of your greedy cunt to slap down on it, dragging more spurts of arousal out of you. you squirt through your jeans, onto the metal seat in your ferris wheel cart and all over satoru. who happily praises you through it all. “i bet you’re just drippin’ on all those nasty strangers below. i’m sure they’d love it.”

catching your breath, you tuck your face into satoru’s neck while you come down from your high (and literally too — your cart begins to make its descent back town from the top of the ferris wheel). “y-you’re sick.”

satoru smiles, slow and sexy. “but you love me,”

“mhm, sure,” you quip, somehow finding the energy to pull away from your debauched lover to shift to your knees in front of him — the cool metal digging into your knees. “maybe i love you just a little.”

“only a little? then why are you on your knees for me?” he asks, spreading his legs to make room for you between them.

“it’s your turn, i want to see if i can make you come before we get to the bottom of the wheel.” you say breathlessly and with mirthy eyes, teeth descending on gojo’s zipper while you bat your eyelashes up at him.

celebrating valentine’s day with satoru was always…unique. different…but you’d be lying if you said you failed to enjoy his unconventional methods of gift giving with the person you loved most.

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xi-chan · 2 days

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Pink Carnation

[Spoilers for Boothill's backstory]

sypnosis: Boothill spending a nice sunny evening with his family pairings: Boothill x fem!reader tags: established relationship, pre-cyborg Boothill, Boothill snd his adoptive daughter, reader is referred to 'mama' by them, fluff and angst A/N: why is everyone's lives destroyed by the IPC

"Nono, place this finger here, and 'yer other one here..." Boothill placed his daughter's fingers on the strings, and laughed with her as she failed to hold them in place again. He sat on a patch of grass with her on his lap underneath an old tree that has been growing on the farm for many, many years.

As his daughter tried again to play the strings, he remembered why this place- underneath this tree- was so meaningful to him. He met you here, a few years ago. A warm breeze went through his bangs, and an actual nice sound emerged from the guitar, a sound his daughter made. Much better than the last few times, he thought.

Her eyes were filled with light as she turned her little head to him, a wide grin as she raised her arms in joy, "dada! dada!" he laughed loud, raising his daughter high by the arms, the sunlight reflecting her wide smile. "That's some talent 'yer have! Don't become better than me though, 'yer hear?" she squealed in his arms as he engulfed her in his arms. His favourite sound- his daughter's joy.

"Seems like you two are having fun." your voice made Boothill perk his head up, smiling leisurely once he saw you. A low-bun, a white tunic and an orange apron wrapped around your waist- no matter what you wore or how you made your hair, no matter how healthy or how sick you were, you were always perfect in his eyes.

"Would 'yer look at that, pumpkin, mama's here." Boothill poked his daughter's cheek and she squealed again before clumsily trying to get out of his grasp. "mama!" she gasped, and Boothill showed some mercy, letting her go to walk to you.

Her little shuffle was adorable, you thought to yourself, which was to be known, since she just learned to walk. You crouched down to her height level, "hey- you're doing good! Come to mama!" and you spread your arms wide and she was even more determined to reach you. "Mama!" she repeated, but once she was almost in your arms, Boothill suddenly picked her up, placing her on his shoulders.

"ah, 'yer were so close! T'is a shame." she squeaked before laughing again, warming your heart. You giggled softly as you rose up back to your feet, with your lover now in front of you. "You're not very nice, she almost had it" you joked and he simply laughed again, "She learns better this way- I was taught like this." he said, before crouching down a tiny bit to kiss you on the cheek.

"Fine, fine, but don't do it too often. She might feel discouraged." you berated him and he nodded, but it seems like his attention was on the little girl. You shook your head to yourself but were still smiling as you swiftly took Boothill's hat from his head and placed it on your own, giving him a quick wink, to which he smiled. You just loved the two of them so much.

"So, has mama made us some dinner? Would be quite disappointed if she didn't, 'yer agree, pumpkin?" Boothill nudged his daughter softly with his head and she nodded her head profusely. "Dinner!" you could hear her stomach rumbling and nodded yourself. "It's finished! That's the reason I came to get you. Pork chops with Scalloped Potatoes- sound tasty enough?"

"Well, if I ain't dreaming. Another wonderful dish of 'yer mama, you agree?" your daughter clapped her hands in joy and was urging Boothill to go faster, her hunger really couldn't be stopped.

"Oh- wait, the guitar! Walk up ahead, I'll get it." you patted him on the shoulder before running up to the tree again and picking up the guitar your daughter had played with. Once you turned your back again, you saw the two of them standing still in the middle of the farm.

"What 'yer saying, pumpkin? Think mama can catch us with your guitar?" your daughter raised her arms, repeating "yes, yes!" and you sighed to yourself knowing another game of tag would happen. It was almost a daily occurrence, one of you was holding your daughter while the other one chased. Once the game ended, it was truthfully time for dinner.

You laughed as you ran up to them with the guitar in hand while holding the cowboy hat and keeping it in place on your head. Before you touched Boothill, he swiftly moved a hair away, and ran away from you with your daughter bouncing on his shoulders. "You know I always lose!" you shouted, running up behind them. "C'mon sweetie- help mama catch papa!"

"hey! 'yer ain't cheating!" Boothill shouted back as he continued to run from you. He was playing- you knew that. If he wanted to, Boothill could run as fast as he could and you'd be out of breath shortly after. "It's not cheating, dear! It's called cooperation!"

The three of you laughed as you ran to the ranch, the sun setting and the delicious smell of dinner lingering in the air.

Terror, anxiety, loneliness, darkness, rage- these feelings didn't dissipate with his physical body, but remained within the mechanical shell in a different manner- and they were even heavier than before.

He heard the call of the dead, smelled the scent of something being charred, the whirl of machinery buzzed around his ears, and the new blue blood flew towards his thirsty heart... Some cruel memories resurfaced as the unforgettable hatred turned into a weak light in the darkness.

he could never forget the sea of flames... the sight of the land scorched in black... and the loss of his loved ones.

The ones he called his family.

#boothill #boothill x reader #boothill x you #hsr #honkai #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkaistarrail #hsr fluff #her angst #boothill hsr #boothill honkai #boothill honkai star rail #xi-chan writes #boothill fluff #boothill angst

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tylermileslockett · 7 months

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APHRODITE

“Muse, tell me the deeds of golden Aphrodite the Cyprian, who stirs up sweet passion in the gods and subdues the tribes of mortal men and birds that fly in air and all the many creatures that the dry land rears, and all that the sea: all these love the deeds of rich-crowned Cytherea." (-Homeric Hymn, translated by H.G. Evelyn white)

APHRODITE (a-fruh-DIE-tee) (Roman- Venus); The goddess of love, pleasure, and fertility, was born from Ouranus' severed penis which was cast down into the sea by his son, the titan Cronus, and the resulting sea spray. While in some versions she is the daughter of Zeus and a sea nymph name Dione.

She reclines upon a swan (early depictions in ancient Greek art show her riding a swan, a symbol of grace and divinity) and underneath is the commonly portrayed scallop shell. Aphrodite holds her sacred golden Apple of Discord, won by Paris choosing her in the beauty contest between her, Athena, and Hera. Upon her waist sits a golden chastity belt, said to invoke lust in gods and mortals alike.

Aphrodite had a lively entourage. Resting upon her arm, is Eros, the winged godling and her companion, (later becoming cupid in roman culture) who whispers sweet sensualities, while a couple Erotes(more winged godlings associated with sex and love) flitter above tossing flower petals. Frolicking at the lower left are three goddesses, the Charites(or Graces) who symbolize beauty, dancing, and banquets. Swimming atop the dolphin is a Nereid, a reference to Aphrodite's oceanic roots. and finally, above right, near the waterfall, are three more goddesses, the Horai, who represent the seasonal shifts and constellations.

But the goddess of love has a dark side, like when she punishes arcadian princess Atalanta and her lover Hippomenes for neglecting to honor the goddess. The Spartans worshipped an armored, warlike variation of the goddess; Aphrodite of Areia.

Want to own my Illustrated Greek myth book jam packed with over 130 illustrations like this? Support my book kickstarter "Lockett Illustrated: Greek Gods and Heroes" coming in early 2024. check my bio LINKTREE

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lionsongfr · 9 months

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Warrior's Way Snacks

Now this year is the lore it was mentioned that “We’d especially like to thank Arvelle for her generous donation towards our food budget”, and in the pamphlet for Warrior’s Way itself it mentions that “Food is available to participating warriors at all times throughout the course of the event.” So that got me thinking, what kind of food would dragons and beastclans eat during such an event?

Unfortunately, Warrior’s Way is during the summer and the heat can stifle anyone’s appetite- leading to warrior’s struggling to have the energy and hydration necessary to fight. Larger meals most likely would be served in the early morning and after sunset, and battles probably would be held off during the hottest middle of the day. But warriors would also need small meals and snacks to sustain them throughout the day. So, what kind of snacks could they expect?

Live Hornworms- a staple insect for insectivores, this import from the Mire is high in water and can be gut-loaded with either Fire Flower (for magic boost), Redblood Sapper (iron for blood), or Greenpod Bloom (calcium for bones and muscles). They are contained in large barrels with a cooling charm upon them, keeping the insects less active and from perishing in the heat.

Pickle Platter- while our most of our dragons do not sweat (I think maybe Light, Earth, and Ice dragons do), there are beastclans who definitely sweat. And with sweat comes the craving for salt. Pickled foods are high in salt, curb sugar spikes, help blood clot, and can provide the necessary electrolytes to relieve muscle cramps. The most common pickled foods are Basilisk eggs, Dubious Cucumbers, Wild Onions, Zeeba/Rambra sausages, Noxious/Leopard Caterpillar, and Kelp Beds Mackerel. Occasionally, Blacktongue Pepper is added for a spicy kick!

Cold Lume Daffodil and Spearmint Tea- every Fire Flight forge has a pot of tea cooling nearby in a large clay pot for refreshment. While Fire dragons typically prefer Cindermint, the cooling and refreshing combo of Spearmint and Lume Daffodil is a blessing on a hot summer day. Peppermint tea may also be used for creatures having nervous stomachs for their upcoming battles.

Blood Red Smoothie- to many a Wildclaw’s sorrow this does not actually have blood. This smoothie combines Spinach, Blood Acorn, Strawberries, Blood Spath, Goat milk, and ice into a frothy, highly caloric, and nutritious drink. Sometimes it is easier to drink all of one’s calories than eat them, especially when it is hot outside. (Plus the Spirals brought these cute curly straws to drink them with!)

Cold Cut Wraps-unlike bread, flat breads can be quickly made and can be easily sized per creature. Creating a wrap with cold cuts of meat, vegetables, and condiments makes for an easy to carry and customizable snack for busy warriors. Some favored cuts are: honeyed Featherback ham, smoked teriyaki Rainbow Trout, roasted lemon pepper Woodland Turkey, and spicy Flameleg Millipede.

Energy bites- the Longnecks are known for their Berry and Nut trail bars and the Centaurs for their Ration Pouches, and dragons have their own Elk pemmican tins and Cricket protein bars. Energy bites are a variant on this idea, mixing granola with a fat (Goat yogurt, Sunflower butter, Elk fat, ground Mealworm), Sugarbee honey, and dried fruit (Blueberries, Raspberries, Mushrooms, Butcher’s Fig) into round balls. The bites are then cooled overnight and put into bags made from Sweet Potato Vine (which is also edible), which can be carried about the event.

Shrimp and Potash Gazpacho- served by the cup or by the gallon (Imperial sized), this is a chilled soup for the seafood lovers. The base of the soup is the tangy and sour Miniature Potash Peach along with Cucumbers, Golden Peppers, and Wild Onions. And then anything seafood can be added to it! Most common is sweet Jumbo Shrimp, Pastel Scallops, and feisty Blue Swimmer Crab.

#Flight rising #fr headcanon #lore #long post #food #Warrior's Way #feel free to add your own food concepts for the event!#my headcanon

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munsonology · 5 months

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O Holy Night

A Biker!Eddie and Nunny short story

18+ only, MINORS DNI

CW: Fem!Reader, blasphemy, knife kink, sodomy, religious kink

Summary: Eddie visits Nunny at the convent late at night and they discuss her new attire, and some new feelings.

With her habit hoisted around her waist, Nunny watched as her lover took the blade of his switchblade up her thigh. The sensation against her stockings made her thighs quiver.

Eddie took hold of her stockings at the crotch, he cut a hole inside and pulled the fabric apart.

“These are new,” Eddie observed.

Usually his little nun wore white, cotton briefs. Tonight she was wearing a pair of high cut white panties, scalloped lace around the edge. A delicate pink rose in the waistband.

“I thought…I don’t know,” you shied away from him, closing your legs.

Eddie grips your thigh open. “Tell me. What did you think?”

You lean forward, fingers playing with the chains around his neck.

“I thought—I thought you’d like it..if I was more—I don’t know, more modern, more sexy like the girls at the bar.”

“The girls at the bar…” Eddie hums.

“So I bought all this stuff. Panties—garters—”

“Jesus Christ Nunny, you just jump into the deep end, huh?”

It’s silent between them for a moment. Eddie pushes back Nunny’s veil to reveal her hair. He can’t help but imagine what a white one would look like on her instead.

“I don’t want the girls at the bar, my little nun. The only girl I want in my bar is you.”

With a warm hold on your face, he kisses you deeply. You welcome him, your legs bringing him closer. You moan at the feel of the knife handle against your mound. It pushes past your panties and slowly creeps into your cunt.

“What would He say about your getting fucked like this? Hmm?”

You whimper as the handle kisses your g-spot. “He’d ask if I could turn cum into wine.”

The vulgarity stuns Eddie for a hot second. He laughs, bringing you along with him in a fit of giggles.

“I love you,” you tell him.

Eddie’s breathing slows. “I love you too.” He pockets his knife and rises from the bed.

Staring at the bland wall of Nunny’s convent room, he takes the crucifix down from its post.

Using his powers, he transforms the bottom piece of the cross into a smooth, rounded head. A curve at the end.

“If you want we could test it out…see if your cum is as magnificent as that little book you tote around says.”

Nunny bites her lip with anticipation. Eddie stands over her and takes hold of her neck. His thumb rubs against her throat. “What’s your safe word?”

“Bethlehem.”

Eddie pushes her back on the bed. Crawling over her, Eddie rips the rest of the habit and underclothes off her body with his sharp claws. She mews seeing the horns on his head grow from the curls.

With her legs wide, Eddie slides the crucifix inside her sopping cunt. He fucks her with it, not holding back how deep he’s inside. “Fuck,” Nunny pleads.

She could fill a pool she’s so wet. Her sheets will be soaked. That’s how it always is with him. She grabs the crucifix and with him, guides it further, her cunt squeezing the wood.

“Say a prayer for me, my little nun,” his voice is deep.

“Hail Satan.”

#eddie munson/reader #munsonology’s eddieverse #eddie munson x female reader #fem reader #eddie munson fem!reader #sav’s multiverse of eddie’s #biker!eddie munson #smut #Eddie smut #biker!eddie #munsonology’s biker!eddie #biker!eddie and nun!reader #Eddie and nunny #nunny #nun!reader #o holy night #munsonology fics

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buffetlicious · 2 months

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Itacho Sushi (板长寿司) is currently holding a Premium Hokkaido Scallop Festival with up to 30 per cent off their range of innovative scallop items. As a seafood lover, I can’t afford to miss this chance to savour the shellfishes. Heading to the branch at ION Orchard on a weekday morning to beat the peak lunch time crowd.

Flipping through the online menu via the tablet, I quickly zoomed in to the Scallop Sushi promotion page and started sending the items to the cart. Took a slightly longer time to decide which are the dishes I wanted as they all look equally delectable. In the meantime, scooped out a small spoonful of wasabi and poured soy sauce over it.

Didn’t have to wait for long before the first plate of sushi was served. From the left are two each of Roasted Salmon Skin Soya Sauce (S$1++ each) and Roasted Salmon Skin Soya Sauce with Cod Fish Caviar Mayo (S$1.20++ each) sushi. The salmon sushi were melt in the mouth soft and so yummy. If not because the restaurant limits each customer to just two pieces per type, I would have order it over and over again.

The three scallop sushi on the right side of the plate are Roasted Scallop Sushi (S$3.50++), Roasted Scallop with Black Truffle Sushi (S$3.90++) and Roasted Scallop with Cod Fish Caviar Sushi (S$3.70++). All three of the scallop items were so fresh and sweet tasting just like those I had in Hokkaido. The toppings on the two of the sushi enhanced the overall flavours to raise it up a notch.

The next plate I ordered is the 3 Kinds Scallop Sushi Set (S$5.80++). The scallops are un-torched and came with different toppings of tobiko mayo (seasoned flying fish roe), black truffle (paste form) and lobster salad with avocado. Again the raw scallops were just so yummy and the toppings complemented the whole package.

The last dish to be served is this Baked Scallop Spicy Salmon Mayo Egg with Rice (S$8.40++). A beautiful dish topped with six scallops, an egg and baked till golden brown. The creamy and spicy salmon mayonnaise completely covered the white rice underneath. The oozing egg yolk added a wholesome goodness to the rice dish. Even as I walked to the cashier to pay the bill, I am already planning on the next trip to try out the other dishes on the menu.

Selected images courtesy of Itacho Sushi.

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