#Blue Ginger menu

[vraiao]

sultry reunion

this was a request from my favorite (and only lolol) anon, and is now also an apology for disappearing for 4 months

✰ . fem!reader & wears a dress, calling him ajax in this, my hc with ajax having lots of freckles hehe, smut w plot-ish, lovesick and desperate ajax ehehehwhwehe he's so pathetic i hate him(lovingly), reader and ajax are drunk, nipple play, unprotected sex, very vague mention of pregnancy

in your younger years, you met a friend you quickly grew fond of. of course, eventually, your friendship came to an end when he had to abruptly skip town for an unknown reason. imagine your surprise when you met him again in a restaurant many years after! and later in your bed..

ajax swore to everyone he knew that he truly fell in love when he was young. many called him a fool for it, but he didn't care. he told them all the story of his dear childhood friend and first love, and to himself, he swore that he'd find you again as soon as he got the chance to visit liyue.

when you were a kid, you made friends with a blue-eyed boy who had bright ginger hair and so many freckles that you could map out constellations in them. he was a colorful and kind boy, usually the one cheering you up when you cried, and hardly ever the opposite. many of the other kids adored him, though you were his favorite above all else. not only that, but you two also made a silly pact to marry each other when you became adults.

unfortunately for you both, those dreams and fun times were cut short when you walked outside one morning to see his parents packing all of their things up in a moving van. you didn’t know why he had to leave, but you were both more than saddened to part ways. the last thing you remember is him promising he'd meet you again one day before his parents dragged him off and drove away.

and that he did! though rather unexpectedly. it was sort of late, and you were standing at the front of a restaurant arguing with the woman at the counter as she insisted that you didn’t have a reservation, even though you very much did. you turned around, about to leave the restaurant frustrated and hungry when you suddenly locked eyes with a very familiar man. big blue eyes(that no longer had that glow you'd grown so accustomed to :<), firey ginger hair, and just as many freckles as you remember.

the both of you froze, staring at each other with slightly widened eyes like deers in headlights. boy did he age like fine wine. broad shoulders and toned muscles all over, faint battle scars peaking from under his halfway rolled up sleeves, the lines of his perfect abs visible from under his shirt, and best of all, he was tall, towering over you like a building while his rich, musky cologne attacked your nostrils and clouded your senses. you couldn't help but wonder if those hundreds of dark and light brown freckles had expanded to other regions.

he was definitely eyeing you up and down, but after a short moment of shocked silence he was the first one to speak up. “..y/n?”

you smiled. “ajax! it’s so good to see you!” really good to see him, in fact. it took all of your might to keep your eyes from wandering all over him! he ran a hand through his hair, a charming smile as he spoke. you could almost detect a sense of.. nervousness from him? “likewise! you look.. wow, you look great. how’ve you been?”

you started off by telling ajax how your night was going, and luckily for you he happened to have a reservation. immediately after you both sat down, he ordered the most expensive wine on the menu, and through the night as you both caught up, one bottle quickly turned into three. just how rich was this guy?

you told him about your quiet life in liyue, and in turn he told you about his rather adventurous life all over, which was much more exciting. the one thing that didn’t go unnoticed by you was the underlying tension in the air between you two, and you wondered if he could sense it too. you didn’t once take your eyes off of him— you couldn’t, and you weren’t sure he did either.

a delicious meal and countless glasses of wine later, it was late enough for the both of you to head home. he somehow managed to safely drive you back to your place, but as you both stood on your doorstep and you glanced behind him at the rain that started to pour and got heavier by the second, you weren’t sure you’d feel safe letting him drive anymore given his lack of sobriety and the current weather. so instead you held your door open and said, “..do you want to come in?” it was the least you could offer since he paid for dinner.

he glanced at his parked car before turning his gaze back to you with a nod. "yeah, thanks," he muttered, trying to keep the drunken slurr in his voice down to a minimum. when you walked inside he followed behind you, and you hardly noticed his hand suddenly reaching forward and clutching yours.

you were tired and fairly wasted, the fancy wine lingering on your tastebuds as your fingers rubbed your temple and you tried to wish away tomorrow morning’s inevitable headache. you moved to your room, not even bothering to turn on the light as you sat on the edge of your bed and kicked your heels off. the moonlight peeking through your curtains was enough lighting that ensured you weren't rendered completely blind.

too dazed to pay him any mind, you didn’t know what he was doing until you looked up and saw his face so close to yours. so close that you could feel the softness of his breath brush over your skin. he was standing in front of you and leaning over, his hands on the mattress on either side of your legs, effectively caging you in. you froze. he was so close to you that your nose picked up the scent of liquor from him after you every breath. it was so silent that you could only hear the quiet sounds of his breathing, and you were sure that in this moment a pin dropping would be louder.

your breath caught in your throat and you swore he could hear your rapidly pounding heartbeat, but you didn’t pull away when he inched a little closer. he was so out of it that he hardly knew what he was doing, and all he could think about in the moment was how your perfect looking lips would feel against his. he moved his hand up, resting it on your cheek before he was pulling you closer and pressing his lips against yours. immediately he was whipped.

the kiss was slow, a little messy as your teeth occasionally clashed with his. he leaned forward, pushing your back onto the mattress as he crawled on top of you, not once pulling his lips off of yours to catch his breath. he didn’t need to when this was so much better than breathing. his tongue slipped past your lips and prodded at your teeth, and your jaw immediately fell slack to let him in. his tongue tangled with yours, the taste of earlier’s wine somehow amplified by your lips locked together.

your hands moved up to tangle in his hair that was even softer than you remember, and his free hand moved to a firm grip on your waist like you were going to slip away if he didn’t hold on tight enough. his kisses suddenly moved down to your neck while you softly panted to chase air back into your lungs. he was so touchy, his hands mapping all over your body like he was some madman. your boobs, your ass, your thighs, anywhere he could grab and squeeze hard enough to leave faint nail marks all over your skin.

but it wasn't enough-- feeling you only from above your clothes. the fabric suddenly became a great bother to him as he reached around your back, fingers struggling to undo that pesky little hook before he started to drag the zipper down. he pulled his lips off of yours, his eyes searching your own for permission before he went any further. he wasted no time after recieving a nod from you. he started to pull the dress down your shoulders, and he pulled it halfway down your stomach before he stopped, abandoning the idea the moment he caught sight of your bra.

his breath hitched, and he was completely awestruck by the sight of your perfect tits sitting so nicely in the delicate red lace. he started to kiss all over your neck, his hands working fast to remove your bra. the fiery trail of his lips all over your skin started to travel down when he finally got it off, kissing and squeezing all over your soft breasts before his lips suddenly latched around one of your nipples. his tongue swirled around it, sloppily licking and sucking at your nipple like it was the sweetest lollipop he's ever had. that combined with the feeling of him pinching and rolling the other between the pads of his fingers pulled soft moans from your mouth as your back slightly arched off the bed.

he was painting a picture of this moment in his mind that'd be engraved into every inch of his soul from this night on. every ounce of love he felt for you then and still feels for you now was boiling inside him and screaming like a tea kettle seconds away from bursting with the overwhelming heat of affection and attraction. pulling his mouth off of you only for a moment, his hungry, half-lidded eyes met yours before he lowered his lips to give your other nipple some attention. one hand now free, he used it to continue pulling that bothersome dress down your body. sliding the dress over your hips and down your squirming legs, he pulled it off and tossed it to the floor with your bra.

he finally pulled his mouth off of your tits, but the look in his eyes as a string of saliva connected his lips to your sensitive mound told you he was far from satisfied. he brought his head back up and caught your lips in a passionate, messy embrace with his. he smiled against your soft lips as he felt your grabby hands dip down, grabbing the hem of his shirt and tugging up at it. he lifted his lips off of yours to let you pull his shirt off, but they were crashing right back down when the fabric was lifted over his head and tossed onto the floor. he couldn't get enough of the taste of you and the way your tongue melded against his.

his hands hooked under your thighs, lifting them up and pushing them so far back until they were pressed against your chest. you softly gasped at the sudden feeling, having been unaware that you could even bend like that. one of his hands kept firm on the back of your leg while the other slipped downward and struggled to unzip his pants. it was hardly a moment later when he was eagerly shoving his pants and boxers down, and you shuddered when his fat tip already leaking with pre cum fell against your panties after he tossed his remaining clothes away to join the pile on the floor.

you didn't even have to look to know that he was big, his fat shaft dragging against the fabric of your panties, and you suddenly felt so small beneath him. his lips hovered over yours, his pulsing eagerness shrinking to a minimum, much more gentle as he pulled your lacy panties aside, eyes glued to your pulsing hole that dripped with physical evidence of the pure need that radiated off of you. you understood why he had suddenly become so gentle when he pressed his tip against your entrance, slowly pushing and easing inside of you.

the sheer size of him stole the air from your lungs. your greedy hole barely let him in, pulsing and squeezing as he pushed further, but it certainly wasn't gonna let him out now. a deep, needy groan jumped out of his throat before he could stop it, and by the time he finally bottomed out, he swore your pussy would cut of the circulation in his dick if you clenched around him any tighter.

he started off slow, but definitely not gentle. he'd pull all the way back, leaving just the tip in before slamming forward, the loud smacks of skin contacting skin reverberating through the room. his face was buried in the crook of your neck, bites along your skin muffling the groans that jumped out of his throat as his cock kissed your insides a little deeper with each thrust. your hands were desperate, fiercely tugging and running through his soft ginger locks as he fucked the very oxygen out of your lungs. his nails dug marks into the backs of your legs as he held them in place, and his teeth marked your delicate skin up with reds and pinks after every bite mark like he was painting a picture.

your head was spinning out of control, wanton moans and sharp whines pouring from your mouth as his tip kissed the deepest parts of you that no one had ever reached before. euphoric was the only way to describe what both of you could feel right now. he started to get faster, pulling out less and less each time before roughly snapping his hips forward, effectively burying himself inside of your already gushing pussy.

he'd given up on biting you because he could hardly control the groans that leaped from the deepest pits of his throat. so determined to reach that pinnacle of ecstasy, that exhilarating feeling, he was thrusting fast and desperate, hardly keeping a steady rhythm as he urgently chased his high.

it was too much-- too much! you could feel that familiar knot coiling in your stomach, getting ready to snap at any moment. your arms clung around his neck, squeezing tight as you buried your face in the crook of it. he was fucking you so fast and so rough that you could barely even voice the fact that you were seconds away from completely unraveling, but you were sure he could tell by the way you clenched impossibly tighter around him. and he definitely could. he leaned in, hot breath fanning over your ear as he used the last ounce of self control in him to coax it out of you. "fuck- hm.. you're close, aren't you baby? come on," he whispered, his voice dripping with seduction and a severe lack of self control, "cum for me, pretty."

his words were certainly enough, but he really pushed you over the edge when he brought a hand down from your leg, pressing the heel of his palm firmly against your lower stomach right where that bulge was penetrating you. you practically screamed his name as you came, copious amounts of your juices spilling all over his cock and lower abdomen, creating a creamy white ring at the base of his shaft.

your head fell back against the pillows, looking up at him with an expression that made him lose all remaining restraint. your cheeks were flushed, eyes half lidded, and beading sweat stuck baby hairs to your forehead. your mouth was hung open, jaw slack as overstimulated whines and desperate calls of his name slipped past your pretty lips and floated straight to his ears that picked up the sounds as if they were a set of notes composed in a symphony.

those pretty noises, combined with your sultry expression, sent him over the edge-- his head falling slack and burying his face in the crook of your neck as he came undone. his already unsteady pace stuttered more, and a loud groan escaped the very pits of his throat as his cock pumped seemingly endles thick, sticky ropes of cum deep inside of you, painting your inner walls totally white. his thrusts stuttered and slowed to a stop after he finished dumping his heavy load into you, and he waited for a moment, catching his breath before he pulled out, watching as his pearly white seed dripped right out of your utterly stuffed hole.

he was panting heavily, the lust-charged haze he was in slowly dissipating as he held your trembling legs in place. “d’you still wanna marry me?,” he murmured against your neck, half joking, half serious. given the lack of protection in the previous moments between you two, you just might have to!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dark Energy 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Wanda Maximoff

Summary: you become a point of contention between Wanda and Steve.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Wanda knots the scarf around your neck. She smiles, her red lips glistening. She tilts her head and flicks your chin.

"Perfect," she drawls. "You know, sweet one, you would look marvelous in a shade of blue just so."

She touches the scarf, tickling your through it. You smile, "thanks. Uh..." you turn and dig through your purse.

"Antonia," she signals to the woman behind the stall, "here."

She hands over a bill before you can even find your wallet. The black-haired seller takes it with a grin. She as good as dances away to the next customer.

"Wanda, I was going to get that."

"It is my treat. It looks so marvelous. You must have it." She purrs. "Darling, did we say we would get you some cards?"

"I'll pay for those," you insist.

"Mm, oh if you wish," she grins. "Come. Ooh, I am parched," she points to a booth. "How about some tea?"

"Uhh, well..." you hesitate. There's only portapotties here and you're not the biggest fan of those. Still, it's hot and you've been wandering around for almost an hour. "Maybe a small one."

"I recommend the ginger and peach. It's very tame," she grabs your hand and drags you over. "Onyx," she greets the bald woman behind the counter. "Tea, for me and my friend. Rosehips and pomegranate for myself and..."

She pauses and looks at you as your eyes scour the small menu propped up on the counter.

"I will have the peach one," you shrug.

"Yes, peach. And do make them special." She smiles.

"Wow, you know everyone," you say as you bounce on your feet and look around.

"Ah, I know quite a few. Many of them are pretenders. They like to play at magic," she chirps.

"Oh..." you look at her again and touch the scarf as it tickles your chin.

"This and a nice little dress," she pinches the scarf again then surprises you as she frames your waist. "You have a precious figure."

"Oh, ha," you touch her wrists and gently brush her away. "Well..."

"Soft..." she winks and turns back as Onyx sets down two cups. She pays, too quick for you again.

"Thanks, I'll have to pay you back," you say as she hands you a cup.

"No, we are friends. We don't keep tally," she raises her glass. "What is it you say, 'cheers'." She knocks her cup against yours. "Enjoy."

You sip. The tea has a bit of silt to it. The flavour clings to your tongue. You choke it down as the tangy sweetness lingers.

"Mmm," you hum.

"You will get used to it," she assures. "It is all natural. Very good for your gut. Cleansing."

She turns and weaves ahead of you. You follow her at a scurry. She twines around a cluster of women all in black and she stops before a table.

"Martha," she bends to peruse the merchandise. "My friend looks for a deck."

"Oh, yes," the woman with white hair and knobby hands leans forward. Her eyes are glassy and almost all white. Can she see? "These are all hand made."

She waves her hands over the table and you look over the selection. There's a deck with black cats, another with planets and stars, others with medieval figures in finely painted scenes. Your attention sticks on the ones with birds of all kinds. Cardinals, jays, crows, and vultures.

"Ah, yes, a deck for the wise," she taps the cards and you meet her eyes. She looks right through you. "A good witch does not take beyond the buyer's needs. Pay what you can."

She takes the deck and wraps it up with brown paper and twine. She stamps it with a pentagram and sets it down. You stir around in your purse. You hold out a fifty. You weren't intending to spend more than that all day.

She takes it and feels the paper. She bends and opens a chest. She tucks away the bill and sits up. She hands you a twenty back.

"I said no more than you spend," she girds and squeezes the money into your hand.

"Thank you." You say.

"Martha, you are ever so kind," Wanda praises.

She picks up the deck and beckons you away. You follow her and keep away from the growing crowd. You look at the tide of bodies in dread.

"The air..." Wanda says. "You are not one for many people."

"Not really."

"Ah, the lonesome are the most interesting," she says and take your hand again. "Come, let's find a quiet place and I will teach you to read."

You nod. You blink and sip again. You don't know if it's the heat or the crowd, but you feel a bit off. Almost woozy.

Wanda hums a melody that seems to echo and when you look at her, her red waves are even brighter. It must be the sun. You let her drag you through the marketplace.

She leads you beyond the booths and past the trucks waiting to take them away at the end of the day. She finds a patch of grass and spreads her shawl over it. She tugs you down and unwraps the cards.

You drink again and make yourself stop as the liquid clogs your throat. You put the cup down next to hers. She shuffles the deck and tells you to cut it three times. You do then rub your palms together. You flutter your fingers up to the scarf as you feel like your choking.

You look at Wanda as she spreads the cards on the shawl. "Pick three."

You blink and sway. Her eyes are like emeralds in sunlight. You cough and giggle. Your brain feels fuzzy. You take three cards, slapping each down clumsily.

"Darling?" Wanda eyes you, her eyes catlike as she flicks her lashes. "I do not need the cards to see what you want." She gets to her knees and leans over the cards. "For I want it just the same."

Her lips meet yours and you mewl. It's like a strike of lightning. Your vision flashes and your body locks up as you can do nothing to keep her away.

[trashmouth-richie]

𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: escaping Hawkins was impossible, but he did it. when a ghost from your past shows up unexpectedly, bringing with him old memories and holding up a mirror to the train wreck life you’re living… you find it hard to trust him again.

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ no minors, depictions of poverty, child neglect/ endangerment, drug use/abuse, alcohol use/abuse, endangerment, 18+ sex working, 18+stripping, violence, smut. no use of y/n reader has a name that’s introduced in the first chapter, and another “nickname” that is lightly used throughout this series. eddie also has a nickname given by reader.

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎: this series switches pov’s between reader and eddie, thank you to @succubusmunson @joejoequinnquinn @choke-me-eddie @sweetsweetjellybean for helping me read through the first chapter, helped me brainstorm etc i love you

there are two easter eggs in this let me know if you catch em! like pokémon only not

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞: here i come, but i ain’t the same

masterlist

Stupid fucking bitch.

One dial tone waned into another, a monotonous wave taunting you from the end of the receiver. Your fingers tap impatiently against the counter. How long could a phone actually ring before it stopped or someone finally answered?

Too damn long apparently. 

Giving up and counting your losses, you slam the receiver back on the wall, muttering more choice words as you skirt your hips behind the wooden bar, thumbing through the blue lined notebook schedule.   

Work was packed. More-so than any other Friday night, but since it was the beginning of graduation weekend for Hawkins High— every Sam, Dick, and Harry had wandered into the bar looking for a cheap escape and a sugary drink. 

Lucky for them, that was exactly what Queen of Hearts had on the menu. And if you talked to the right person, the luck didn’t stop there. 

“No answer?” Jolene called over her shoulder, hands full with a bottle of Jack Daniels. 

Scribbling an angry dark mark through the name Ginger on the schedule, you toss the notebook back into the drawer shutting it with your hip.

“Just rang and rang,”  you say, annoyingly jumping in to help her finish pouring three Jack & Cokes. The soda fizzes under your thumb, “and before you try to cover for her, this is the fourth time she’s done this.” 

She lets out an exaggerated sigh, taking the cans from you and tossing them into the trash.

“Really thought this one would work out,” her long legs cross behind you to slot the liquor bottle back in its designated spot, “she had kids.. poor thing needed the cash.” 

The familiar ache of neglect radiated through you, “I found a babysitter for the nights she was working, told her I’d help pay… that asshole she keeps around probably found out she was working here.” 

Jolene raises her eyebrows. Her slender fingers hold the three drinks with ease, setting them on a tray.

“Can’t believe Jackie skipped town with that rich salesman,” she sighs heavily, leaning an elbow on the sticky bar, “lucky girl, something like that would never happen to me.” 

Jealousy pings in your chest but you shake it off, “he was really dreamy huh? Those beauty marks? His hair? His ass?” You wolf whistle, “cut me a slice.” 

You weren’t jealous that Jackie was now probably driving a BMW, that her life would be nothing but luxurious from here on out, or even that her boyfriend was movie star hot. 

What made your blood boil over was the fact that she got out, and you were still stuck here like hardened gum underneath a table. 

The club was a part of you. Like an unwanted birthmark, this lifestyle was something you couldn’t get away from. Understanding at a young age, when most girls were playing with dolls, just exactly the kind of life you were destined to live, and unfortunately it wasn’t outside of these four walls.

“Your time will come,” Jolene smiled, looking into a compact and wiping a smudge of lipstick from her teeth, “you’re still young, Miss Assistant.” 

You rolled your eyes, placing the tray on her awaiting palm. Since Jackie was gone, her job was now yours.  Tacking on added responsibilities with no pay raise in sight. You found out all too soon what a fucking joke that title of ‘assistant’ actually was. 

“Told him I didn’t want it, but you know how that went.” 

“I do kid,” she sighs, looking down at you, her eyes sweeping over the still pink scar in your eyebrow, “I really… oh honey, you’re gonna be a busy little bee tonight!” 

You breathe heavily through your nose, dragging your hands down your face, “don’t remind me.” 

“I’ll help out wherever, ‘kay?” 

Jolene had taken you under her wing when you first walked into Queen of Hearts. Freshly eighteen almost down to the hour, naive waters brimming your eyes, forced into this life. 

Her motherly ways comforted everyone, only thirty-three but in this industry that was practically ninety. Just like you, Jolene had deep roots in this place. 

Her tall frame slinks over to the waiting guys sitting at the stage, a pleasant smile on her lips. Twirling the ends of her black hair twisted into schoolgirl pigtails, laying the charm on thick. 

Staring over at her in a forlorn gaze, you hated to think of yourself still here ten years from now, a permanent fixture to this place, like Jolene. The lemons of life were squeezed and you had made the lemonade, but it was sour, bitter.. you longed for something sweeter. 

The bubbly fantasy is popped when Mickey Fritz’ oversized hand hits the counter like he’s a toddler in a highchair.

“Hey sugar tits, I’m empty o’er here!”

Your nightmare reality comes back into view. 

The walls at Queen of Hearts were draped in deep shades of red velour, a cozy ambiance to invite strangers and locals alike. The bar was backlit and stocked with a decent selection of polished bottles of whiskey, gin and bourbon. 

His boots clapped along the wood floor as the pair walked further inside, leaving a plume of smoke in their wake, catching on the neon lights and creating a smoked crimson haze across the dark club.

The raised stage was centered, creating an aisle on either side of it, clad with leather backed red chairs surrounding it at every angle. For a night club in the middle of Indiana, it wasn’t half bad compared to the places he was used to out East. 

A row of booths were tucked onto the left side of the club, high top tables stood crowded with drunk college students, yelling loudly and making asses of themselves to impress the working girls. 

The music blaring over the speakers was a little cliche and too “pop” for his liking—fuck, had he really turned into one of those guys, questioning what a strip club was playing for music? 

He rolls his eyes at his own false pretentiousness, turning it into a wink at a cocktail waitress carrying a tray full of plastic flutes filled with a gut rot of pink liqueur. The gold thong she was wearing sat high on her hips, matching the cheap glittery cowboy hat on her blonde curls. 

Dark eyes follow her long legs to a nearby table, a fist to his mouth as he whistles and licks his chomps.

“Damn! Can you believe this used to be the Hideout?” Jeff squawked, not so casually adjusting himself as they slid into an open booth, “that was Gareth Emerson’s twin sister, she really grew up huh, remember him?”

He didn’t.

Much like anyone else Jeff had tried to bring up since he had agreed to meet up for a drink on the occasion that they were both home, he hadn’t given high school a second thought since the night he left. 

“Nah, man,” he said, grabbing for the sticky menu on the black table top, “I don’t.”

It had been years since he had seen Jeff, and he was surprised that he had recognized him at the gas station last night when he was filling up his motorcycle. 

His own appearance hadn’t changed much, dressed a little better, wore cologne now, normal shit that came along with getting out of puberty. 

Back then Jeff still had braces, a small lisp when he got really drunk. Now, he was a grown man. Living in Phoenix with a big important job at some company, home for the weekend to visit his parents, and watch his youngest brother graduate.

There would be no visiting family or old friends for him on this trip back to Hawkins. The thought of running into anyone he knew and having that painfully awkward small talk about the ‘good old days as a Tiger!’ made him cringe, as if that ever were the case for him. 

Having left this shit hole in the middle of the night seven years ago, he took nothing with him but some saved cash, his guitar, a full tank of gas and the clothes on his back. 

The heavy ache in his chest, brim filled with remorse, was an added carry on, something that didn’t go away with the miles he had put between him and Hawkins. 

He had planned to keep this town in the rearview, but life, probably karma, had other plans. 

Back in Hawkins strictly on “business,” that's what he told Jeff when the smiley old friend grabbed him into a bear hug in the checkout line, crushing the chips he was carrying to a powder in its aluminum bag. 

Technically, it was family business. But he hadn’t mentioned that to Jeff. He didn’t want the questions, didn’t want the pity.

He barely even knew his uncle that well anyway, but being the only living relative of the deceased, he didn’t have a choice when the call came through that he had passed. 

A week. That was the timeframe he told his job that he’d be gone for. Leaving just enough time to plan the funeral, and sell the trailer. 

Coming home to the haunting shadows of Hawkins was like playing in a graveyard filled with demons of his past. Sorrow filled every dark corner, looming around him like a fog, making him unable to forget the damage left behind. 

For years it had worked out fine, he had moved on. But every now and then, he had to push his inner demons down, and still to this day, years after the fact, they kept trying to crawl back up. The shame of his past coming to the forefront.

The music changes to another upbeat song that was popular on the radio, Jeff nods along to the beat, strumming his fingers against his belly like he was playing the guitar. 

He looked over at his old highschool friend and smiled for the first time since being back here, “still play?”

Jeff stretched a wide grin across his face, chuckling a little too loud, “only in my dreams… working seventy-hour weeks doesn’t really allow me to have that kinda freedom.” He nodded and smiled a little at the waitress who was coming to take their drink orders, “so what have you been up to man? It’s been years!”

He knew all too well about not having free time to spend the way he had wanted to. He didn’t even own a guitar anymore. The last time he saw his Warlock, it was sitting in a pawn shop in Nashville— the last of his many possessions sold to make ends meet. 

Ordering a beer, he counts his budget for this trip in his head, deciding to buy Jeff’s drink too. Maybe being back wouldn’t be so bad after a drink or two, a little liquid courage to get him through the night at least.

The pleather seat creaks beneath his weight when he leans back further into the booth, stretching his arms out wide. Trying to gain a sliver of comfort since being home. 

Working the pole to Ginger’s song of choice, Once Bitten, Twice Shy, you found it hard to get into music you could care less about. But you didn’t have time to complain. 

Legs crossed and spinning upside down, bare besides a face full of makeup and a red thong, you pretended that you were anywhere else but there. 

How nice it would be to not have to crawl across dirty dollar bills, teasing a faceless man with your body so that he would be eager enough to slip a twenty into your g-string.

Collecting your tips from your set, you tap them against your vanity in the dressing room, counting out loud your mind already knowing how much money will be put away after bills are paid. 

The long jagged crack in your mirror served as the only looking glass you liked to look in. The warped shapes of your face looking back at you made it easier to swallow the life you were living, as if it were a fever dream, a disturbed Alice in Wonderland type reality. 

In the mirror you weren’t a dancer at Queen of Hearts. You could be a nurse, a librarian, a cook in a shitty home town restaurant who went home smelling like grease instead of men’s cologne and wearing suspicious stains. 

It could be easy, simple really. Bus tickets weren’t terribly expensive. Going to any city, a map in your hand and the saved coffee can of cash tucked into your purse. You could almost imagine the taste of the ocean. The thought of even stepping outside of Indiana was enough to power you for the rest of the night. 

As easily as the daydream came it fluttered away when the boss stepped into the dressing room. 

His eyes loomed in a dead stare, sweat pooling on his temples. The ice in his glass shifted as it melted into the whiskey. A Colombian cigar tucked into his fat mouth had an inch long ash waiting to fall. 

He wasn’t much taller than you, barely older, but his attitude and small dick made him seem eight feet tall. 

“The hell are you doing in here? Fucking Christ woman, the girls are drowning out there, those needle dick college fucks are about to swing fists and you’re in here staring at yourself?”

“Just takin’ a little break Tommy, I gotta change.” 

“I don’t need any lip from you, better watch it before I match that other scar y’ hear me?” 

His threats didn’t scare you, it was who he answered to that made you terrified. A bad report to the big boss and you’d be drinking your meals through a straw. You knew because it’s already happened. Turns out you don’t need your mouth to swing around a pole. 

“Loud and clear.” 

This type of life was the only one you had ever known. You quite literally grew up with this environment right under your nose, and everyone at the club knew it. 

The romance novels you kept in your purse were full of knights in shining armor type of men, another fallacy to your looking glass. 

The thought of anything else was only real in your daydreams. Escaping the festering wound of Hawkins was impossible, almost unheard of. No one with your background got out. 

But he did.

Shoulder to shoulder, squeezing in sideways with grimy singles fisted in their hands, the club was stuffed to the hilt with sweaty, drunk, and extremely horny men. 

“… here!” you slam two more drinks onto the heaping tray and shove it into Wendy’s hands, “take this to those asshats and tell them we are out of triple sec, no more Long Island Ice Teas, if they want a drink they can order beer like everyone else.”

Wendy swung her hips with the Long Islands in tow over  to soften the hearts of the college boys. Batting her lashes, sitting topless on their laps and letting them tell her stories of the parties they went to, the classes they skipped and the girls they fucked. Anything to keep them from hollering and starting a fight with the locals. 

Lisa Ann was working over the business men from out of town, their briefcases shining with a matte patent leather, expensive watches adorning their wrists. Her pretty Marilyn Monroe smile on display as she brought over their drinks, tussling their hair between her pink fingernails, putty at her fingertips.  

Between the rest of you rotating between pouring drinks, collecting payments and trying to wiggle past the grabby hands of Donny, the roar of the busy hour had started to lull. 

All of you were tired and crabby, legs cramping and toes pinched in uncomfortable shoes. Jolene wiped her brow and blew out a deep breath. 

“Take fifteen,” you said to her, “I got it from here.” 

She shot you a wink and disappeared into the dressing room. 

Peeling the soles of your boots from the floor you lean your back against the shelf of liquor bottles. Working your hands on the base of your neck behind your head.

The usual crink that ached when you were stressed was flaring up again. Causing your shoulders to tense up and sending a pinched dull ache from your back up to your throbbing temples. Radiating your jaw, with a heat so fierce it could melt glass and it wasn’t even eleven o’ clock yet. 

Your eyes are pressed closed in a tight squeeze, maybe you could shut the pain out by pretending it wasn’t there.

“Tiffs just about done in room D,” Veronica chirped, her bracelets jingling in a metallic tune, “the ‘doctor’ again,” she explains with air quotes chuckling to herself.

“He’s only here on nights she’s workin’” you say exhaustedly,  “she’s his favorite.” 

Being one of the few regulars that wasn’t married, he was somehow the slimiest worm in the dirt. Tall and slender framed with icy white hair, he seemed to stare down his nose at the girls, his voice an eerily calm when he asked for Tiff, handing over the crisp fifties to secure her for the allotted amount of time. 

Beads click together as she stumbles in from the back, adjusting her lipstick and holding the ripped strap of her bra, followed behind her like clockwork was the doctor, tucking his oxford shirt into his slacks. 

Your jaw felt like it was going to ignite, as if it were covered in tension rods and the gears were  cranking it tighter and tighter, sweat beginning to form on your back, “can you hand me my purse?” 

Rustling your bag from underneath the bar, Veronica hands over the canvas tote, her emerald eyes staring at you expectantly like a serpent watching its prey, “care to share those little party favors?” 

Rolling your eyes, you move your hand through the contents inside. Pushing past a checkbook, lipsticks, and the papered corner of a tampon. Finally your fingers close around the smooth unlabeled bottle. 

Two tablets land in your palm when you pop the cap, and you shake it begrudgingly to release another tablet from the bottle for Veronica.

She giggles and grabs two shot glasses, pouring bourbon into them both. 

“Only one,” you instruct, a serious look in your eyes, “I’m not picking you up from the floor later.” 

A coy little smile on her lips, she brings the shot glasses over, handing one to you, “you worry too much.” 

Placing the pill in her free palm, you clink the glasses together in a little cheer. 

“To us,” Veronica grins, “may our titties stay perky, our asses juicy, the boys pockets fat and our kitties not loosey.” 

You roll your eyes and she laughs, her lips close around the glass the same as yours, and you swallow down the liquor, wincing at the taste. 

Within fifteen minutes the temporary high coats your brain like a warm blanket, floating you to a place far away from shiny poles, 6 inch heels, and ass slaps, away from Hawkins. 

Jeff listens intently as he explains a very bland and watered down version of how he left Hawkins and traveled east, working odd jobs. 

Skipping the part about how he lied about his age to find work, and how he spent an entire month getting his ass kicked after dishwashing shifts at some swanky restaurant outside of Raleigh. 

He explained the good stuff, how he worked part time at a tattoo shop for one of his buddies he met in Philly. His full time gig being a lead shift at a factory. 

It wasn’t that impressive, he knew that, but he couldn’t make himself give a shit what anyone thought of him. For only being twenty-three, he was proud of having a paycheck every two weeks from a legit place. 

The click of the waitresses shoes on the floor had Jeff looking up, thanking her for the drinks. She was dressed a little more conservative than the other waitresses had been, wearing a black mini skirt and a see-through red long sleeved top, showing off black sparkly stickers that covered her nipples. 

But that wasn’t what had him taking a second look. At first glance he thought maybe it was just a note written in pen, a reminder of some sort on the top of her hand, lots of people wrote on their hands right? But when she set the drinks down, reaching past them and across the table to grab a napkin, sopping up spilled beer, he almost choked on air.

It wasn’t something written in pen, or a weird unlucky shaped birthmark. The marks on her hand were two small symbols, they had faded with time and were blown out a little on the edges. 

Of course they were, because the identical marks on his hand were blurred the exact same way. Two little symbols, done on the hottest day in July. The smell of his childhood room stung his nose as he thought of that day. 

A day when you were both only thirteen. 

The regulars were bellied up to the bar holding an aluminum can toast to their long gone friend, hollering for you to play some David Allen Coe in a final goodbye. 

Flicking through the jukebox to find “Never Even Called Me By My Name,” you were too busy to pay any attention to the toast of the deceased buddy.

Maybe if you had, you wouldn’t have been completely blindsided. 

“Clovie?” A disgustingly sweet saccharine voice laced between bubble gum pink lips sang out from behind you, tapping you simultaneously on the shoulder, “be a dolly and run the drinks over to table 8, would ya?”

“Why c���”

Tiff was already gone, the door to the dressing room swinging shut in a shower of White Diamond perfume before you could even spin around and tell her where she could shove those aforementioned drinks. 

Outside of collecting her own tips, and pleasuring the doctor, Tiff never lifted a finger to help. 

Wiping your hands on the cleanest towel you could find, your muttering goes unheard as you cross back over to the bar and grab the cracked black plastic tray set with two large overflowing mugs of draft beer. 

The ground was sticky under your boots, like walking in half dried paint, sometimes you wondered if Wendy actually served a full drink to anyone. 

Balancing the heavy tray on your palm and shoulder, you pray that it won’t snap before you’re able to place the drinks down. 

Table 8 was occupied by a guy you had seen before but couldn’t remember from where, and a long dark curly haired woman who was facing away from you. 

The smile on your face was the fakest one you could make, hoping to maybe get a good tip before Tiff could notice and take her claim. 

“Alrighty,” your customer service voice sang with a false sweet sincerity, “looks like we have two Busch Lights?” 

The guy you had greeted smiled eagerly, moving his elbows from the table allowing room for the frosty mugs to be placed. 

Your fingers work gingerly to set the ruby colored drink napkins down first. The beer was placed carefully, his greedy fingers grabbing the handle before you could barely remove your hand from it. 

The second beer started to slide on the tray, and you over corrected causing it to land with a thud on the table, sloshing the pale ale all over the table—luckily not on the woman. 

So much for a tip, huh?

Apologizing quickly, you lean across the table and reach for the paper napkins. Wiping up the mess hastily you toss the wet heap onto your tray. 

Turning to the woman to offer her a look that’ll hopefully get you in her good graces— well enough that maybe her husband would reconsider tipping, “I’ll go fetch a rag and come back with another beer free of charge sweetheart,” you start to smile sheepishly, “I’m so s—”

The eyes you were met with were the deepest shade of brown, struck with astonishment, crowded by a grove of thick lashes, a look of dismay etched into them. 

Blinking once, twice, you couldn’t register if you were truly seeing this or hallucinating. 

You hadn’t seen those eyes in years, a flash of recognition drops on your face and the perky smile fades. Heart falling to the well of your stomach, punching the air from your lungs, heat rising to the surface of your cheeks. 

In an instant, you’re brought back to many years before tonight. When those eyes were younger, full of teenage angst and rebellion. 

Hell must’ve froze over, pigs were without a doubt flying overhead: Eddie Munson had returned to Hawkins. 

taglist: @mmunson86 @sidthedollface2 @winchester-angel @mrsjellymunson @joannamuns9n @tlclick73 @mewchiili @spacedoutdaydreamer @emxxblog @maybeisthemoon @str4ngergirlw0rld @chrrymunson @insertcoolnameherethanks @kellsck @prestinalove @mandyjo8719 @onegirlmanytales @mopeymopeymouse @veravee-blog @taintedcigs @eddies-acousticguitar @oeuryale @kthomps914 @bangaveragewhitewine @lil-quinnie @corrodedcoffincumslut @definitionwanderlust @madaboutjoe @littledemondani @eiightysixbaby @usedtobecooler

[blackenedsnow]

I can't think of anything but I would think it would be nice to see something with Movie Dude :'3

paradise blues

WARNING: None

PAIRING: Postal (Movie) Dude x Reader

NOTE: I love him SO much!! I love writing for him. Thank you very much for this ask :D

SUMMARY: In the desolation of a dying city, you share coffee and fleeting hope with a stranger whose honesty feels like a mirror to your own loneliness.

The Arizona sun slashed the horizon into jagged golds and bloody reds. It baked the cracked pavement underfoot, curling the heat up in shimmering waves. Paradise City—a joke in name and reality—choked on its own dust. The streets were mostly empty now, save for the flicker of lives barely lived: a junkie rooting through garbage bins, a mutt with a limp nosing at an old burger wrapper. You walked, as you often did, letting the desolation wrap itself around you like an old, threadbare coat.

Some ginger guy crossed your path in this haze of a city that refused to die. You didn’t know him yet, of course—not more than anyone here was known, faces passing like blurs in a bad dream.

But he walked differently than the others: stiff-legged, shoulders hunched, his head dipped as if some invisible weight bore down on him. His thrift-store collar shirt was loose and wrinkled.

His hair glinted like copper wire in the dying sunlight. Something about him caught your eye. Maybe it was the way he muttered under his breath, hands stuffed into his pockets like they might keep the world at bay, or maybe it was just the sheer lack of pretense. He wasn’t trying to be something he wasn’t—because he’d clearly stopped trying at all.

"Hi," you said, because you were reckless like that.

His head jerked up, surprise written into every sharp line of his face. His expression—brows up, eyes wide, lips parted—was almost cartoonish, like he couldn’t quite believe someone was speaking to him. "Oh," he stammered. "Uh. Hi."

Your lips quirked. "Rough day?"

He barked out a laugh, bitter and abrupt. It sounded like something he hadn’t done in a while. "Yeah, you could say that. Just got out of an interview. Didn’t go well."

His voice had a certain twang, not quite local, though you couldn’t place it. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, his hand smudged with the faint residue of grease and ink—probably from some pitiful résumé he’d scrawled out on his last ten bucks' worth of paper.

"Job hunting?" you asked.

"More like job dodging me," he replied, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "Can’t really get rid of this curse of being ‘not what we’re looking for.’ Which is so weird, since I’m desperate enough to be anything."

There was something about his honesty—raw and unpolished, no mask to hide behind—that made you keep the conversation going. Maybe it was that same loneliness you recognized, like catching sight of your own shadow in a stranger’s posture.

"You look like you could use a break," you offered. "How about I buy you a coffee? If we’re both stuck like this, might as well be miserable together."

His gaze softened, the weight on his shoulders lifting just enough for you to catch a glimpse of something else beneath it. Hope, maybe. Or just gratitude.

"Yeah," he said, his voice quieter now, almost shy. "totally, that'd be nice."

The café wasn’t much to look at—faded linoleum tiles, a bell over the door that didn’t ring anymore, and a menu board missing half its letters. But it was quiet, and the coffee smelled more or less like coffee.

He hesitated when you gestured to a booth near the window, his hand gripping the strap of his pants like he was ready to bolt. Then he slid into the seat across from you, his movements stiff and uncertain, as if he’d forgotten how to sit comfortably in someone else’s company.

“So,” you started, breaking the silence as the waitress brought over two chipped mugs and a pot of coffee. “What kind of job were you interviewing for?”

He chuckled darkly, stirring a sugar packet into his cup. “Oh, you know. The usual. Something soul-crushing, minimum wage, probably involves wearing a name tag and pretending to care.”

Your lips twitched. “And they didn’t think you were qualified for that?”

“They said I lacked enthusiasm,” he said, deadpan. “Like that’s a requirement for stacking shelves or flipping burgers! Who the hell gets enthusiastic about stacking shelves?”

You snorted, nearly choking on your coffee. It wasn’t that funny, really, but the way he said it—with that faint edge of incredulous bitterness—had you laughing anyway. His eyes flicked up to yours, and for a moment, his expression softened.

“You’ve got a nice laugh,” he said, almost absently. Then, as if realizing he’d spoken aloud, he ducked his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry. That was—uh—random.”

“It’s fine,” you said, smiling. “It’s not every day someone compliments my laugh.”

“Well, I’m not every day, I guess,” he muttered, his voice tinged with self-deprecation.

You leaned forward slightly, resting your chin on your hand. “What’s your name?”

He hesitated, as if the question had caught him off guard. “Uh, Dude.”

“Dude?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged.

You tilted your head, studying him. There was something endearing about the way he deflected, like he didn’t quite know how to handle being the focus of someone’s attention. “Well, Dude, I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he repeated, as if testing how it felt on his tongue. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

The conversation drifted into easier territory after that. You learned he’d lived in Paradise for a while, though he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—say why. He talked about his bitch of a wife, odd jobs he’d had over the years, each one more short-lived than the last, and you shared a few anecdotes of your own.

Despite his self-proclaimed lack of enthusiasm, he had a knack for making you laugh. His observations about the absurdities of life in Paradise were sharp and strangely charming, and you found yourself forgetting, if only briefly, the weight of the city pressing down on you.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the café in dusky shadows, he glanced at his watch—a cheap, battered thing that looked like it had survived more than its fair share of disasters. “I should probably get going,” he said, though he didn’t move to stand.

“Where to?” you asked, and he gave a half-shrug.

“Nowhere in particular. Just… home.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The world outside the window seemed quieter than before, the streets bathed in the faint glow of neon signs flickering to life.

“You know,” you said finally, “if you ever want to grab coffee again… or just talk… I wouldn’t mind.”

He looked at you, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a small, genuine smile crept across his face.

“Yeah.. sure, okay,” he said softly.

And with that, Dude stood, slinging his backpack over one shoulder. He hesitated at the door, glancing back at you one last time.

“Thanks, Y/N,” he said, his voice low but sincere.

And then he was gone, swallowed up by the night and the city’s endless sprawl. But for the first time in a long time, you felt a spark of something—hope, maybe—that you hadn’t realized you’d been missing.

Sometimes, all it took was a chance meeting to remind you that Paradise wasn’t entirely lost.

[honey-crypt]

ERM HI…. HAHA… I really like ur elliott fics and im wondering,,,,,, *looks at you with HUGE eyes* what if that one scene on Ginger Island where you have the dialogue option to “help him put sunscreen on” turns SPICY… Perhaps with an afab or genderless farmer…. 👁️👁️

Again, i love your stuff and i get super happy to see ur posts on my TL 🐝💕💕 long live the great bee 🤴

(For now i will remain anonymous… 🪳)

a/n: sorry that this took forever! i was in anti-horny mode. nonetheless, i hope you enjoy this fic!

word count: 1.6k

warnings: accidental boner, blowjob, deepthroating, semi-public sex (farmer and elliott fuck in the bathroom on ginger island), cum swallowing, farmer and elliott fail to realize that they're crushing on one another

summary: elliott needs help with applying sunscreen on his back and as his friend, you're more than happy to help! but what happens when you get too close and too intimate with the whole process?

★ the sunscreen incident - elliott x farmer ★

The summer breeze ruffled your hair and the sun beamed down warm rays on your skin, as you walked along the boardwalk to the resort. A rare day off in the summer season warranted a trip to Ginger Island and it seemed that many other residents had the same idea. An assortment of individuals scattered about the sandy beaches of the island, some soaking up rays while others chatted amongst themselves near the crystal clear waters. Your flip flops made contact with the sand and you let out a sigh of contentment, What a nice day.

Yet, out of the blue, your throat tightened and you groaned from the sensation, suddenly parched. Yoba, I need a drink. Thankfully, Gus had set up shop at the rental bar, serving drinks and snacks to the beach attendees. You made a beeline for the bar and greeted Gus with a smile, “Gus, my man, how are you?”

“Oh, (Y/N)!” the bartender flashed you a smile, “Things are well, very busy today. Can I get you a drink? Maybe a snack?” you eyed the menu and pondered your options, “I’ll take a mango smoothie,” you placed your order with Gus. He gave you a thumbs up and walked over to the blender, dumping the ingredients and blending them. Gus poured out the smoothie and garnished it with a little umbrella, “One mango smoothie.”

“Thanks,” you dropped a few G in the bartender’s hands. You took the smoothie and scanned the shore for any good spots to sunbathe. That was when you saw him, Elliott lounging on a striped beach towel with his glorious chest on display for all to see. Your face heated up at the sight and averted your gaze, not wanting to get caught staring at him like a creep. However, Elliott must have caught you anyway when he exclaimed, “(Y/N), my friend! Come here, please!”

You fulfilled his request and approached Elliott, plopping down in the sand next to him, “Hey, Ellie,” the nickname rolled off your tongue cheekily, “Enjoying the weather?” the redhead nodded, his ponytail bouncing with the movement, “Yes, yes, indeed. Despite living on the beach back home, Ginger Island’s waters seem more lively and fresh.”

“You think so?” you eyed the ocean before the two of you and sipped on your smoothie, “I guess it does look clearer than the beach back home,” you watched the people in the water, such as Kent guiding a floatie-wearing Vincent farther into the sea and Leah’s braided hair and snorkel straw poking out above the water. It brought a smile to your face, to see the residents of Pelican Town enjoy the wonders of Ginger Island.

“Oh, (Y/N),” you perked up at the sound of Elliott’s voice. He held out a bottom of sunscreen, SPF 70 to be exact, “Could you do me a favor and apply sunscreen to my back? I burn quite easily and I’m not flexible enough to apply it myself.”

“Of course,” you took the sunscreen and gestured to Elliott to lay down on the towel. He laid on his stomach and pushed his ponytail out of the way, allowing his back to be completely exposed. Your mouth watered at the sight of his toned back, adorn with freckles galore and prominent muscles. You had no clue why he was so in-shape, given his lifestyle of eight hour writing sessions and daily trips to the saloon for his meals. 

“Everything alright?” the writer questioned. You shook off your stupor and replied, “Yes! Just zoned out,” you uncapped the sunscreen and squeezed the white goop into your hands. You leaned closer to Elliott’s back and began applying the sunscreen, massaging it deep into his skin. Elliott let out a soft groan from your motions, He must have a sensitive back. 

“Need me to pause?” you asked. Elliott lifted his head up enough so you could clearly hear his response, “No need, I’m simply tender when it comes to my back. Please resume,” you squirted more sunscreen on your hands and swung one leg over Elliott’s legs, sitting down on his ass so you could get better leverage. 

Elliott let out a squeak of surprise, but quickly settled down and allowed you to resume your work. You continued to massage the sunscreen into his skin, humming a tune to yourself while you did so. Finally, after a few minutes, you finished up and announced to Elliott, “All done!” you hopped off his backside. Elliott turned himself over and smiled at you, “Thank you, (Y/N). I much appreciate it.”

“Of course, no–” you cut yourself short, your eyes locked in on Elliott’s crab-patterned swim shorts. Without realizing, the writer was displaying a proud erection, you held back a squeak of your own and hastily shielded his boner with your body. Elliott tilted his head like a confused puppy, “What’s wrong?”

“Ellie…” you swallowed your spit hard, “You got a, uh… you got a boner.”

Elliott’s eyes widened in shock and immediately covered the tent in his swim shorts with his towel, “Oh, dear! I’m so very sorry, (Y/N). I don’t know why I have one, I must go and take care of that,” with his towel as a shield, Elliott rose from the sand and walked over to the bathroom. 

To both parties’ surprise, you stood up after him and grabbed him by the wrist, “Wait, I…” you stared down at the sand, “It’s kinda my fault you, uh… have that little issue. Do you, uh–” your face was flushed with embarrassment, “I can take care of it.”

Elliott’s jaw dropped at your proposition, his freckled face a lovely shade of tomato red, “Oh! Oh my, I–” he covered up his surprise with a faux cough, “I wouldn’t… be opposed to that. Meet me in the family restroom,” he then entered the bathrooms. You waited a few moments, not wanting to arouse suspicion, before heading inside. Mustering up some courage, you approached the family restroom and opened the door. Inside, Elliott sat on the pull-out chair, towel still covering his boner. You gave him a small wave, “Hey.”

“Hello,” he returned the pleasantries. You walked up to him and removed the towel, staring down at Elliott’s boner. Elliott let out an awkward cough and you broke eye contact with the boner, “Sorry,” you apologized, twiddling your thumbs, “Do you want me… to suck you off?”

“That should do the job,” he answered, “If you’re okay with that, of course.”

“I’m okay with it,” you reassured the freckle-faced man, “Can– Can you pull your shorts down?” the writer nodded in confirmation and slowly slid off his swim shorts, his cock now free from its confinement. You gawked at its appearance, the mushroom tip red and angry with some pre-cum leaking out. It was on the bigger side, maybe six or seven inches, but it was nothing you couldn’t handle. After all, you were referred to as “The Blowjob Master” back in college for your blowjob skills. 

You folded up your towel and made a makeshift pillow, placing it on the water-soaked floor and resting your knees on it. Timidly, you placed your hands on Elliott’s thighs- Yoba, those thighs could crush watermelons- you waved off your horny thoughts and looked up at Elliott, “Are you ready?”

“I am,” he patted you on your head, “Thank you for your help again.”

“Of course, anything for you,” you flashed him a small smile. Taking a deep breath, you grasped the shaft and gave the tip a tentative lick. Elliott stifled back a moan, his face now a deeper red. You carefully guided his cock in your mouth and once inside, you began to suck Elliott off. The writer bit down on his hand to silence his moans while you bobbed your head up and down on his dick. 

Yoba, this exchange felt otherworldly to Elliott, his crush down on their knees and sloppily blowing him. Spit leaked from your mouth and onto the remainder of Elliott’s shaft, coating it in the bubbling substance. With his free hand, Elliott found his way into your hair and tightly pulled at it, earning a moan from you that vibrated down his whole cock. 

Elliott’s eyes rolled into the back of his skull when you managed to find his weak spot, a vein directly under the tip of his dick. You licked and nipped at it, relishing in Elliott’s descent into madness from your cocksucking skills. In one swift motion, you took his full length in your mouth, your nose touching his beautifully manscaped bush. 

Elliott held out a muffled moan and promptly climaxed, shooting ropes of hot cum down your throat and into your tummy. You groaned against his shaft while he orgasmed and as soon as he finished, you pulled yourself off his cock and wiped off any excess cum from your lips. Elliott cleaned off any spit and cum from his now flaccid cock; he then put his swim shorts back on and gave you a relieved smile, “Thank you.”

“Anything for you,” you winked, “I’ll see you outside?” Elliott nodded, “Yes, I just need a moment,” you gave him a thumbs up and exited the bathroom, leaving Elliott to his own devices. The redhead approached the mirror and steadied himself, hands gripping the sink hard.

“I need to buy them flowers as a thank you gift.”

[horrorgorewhore]

31 Days of Halloween 2024

This year is going to be a little different with adult ingredients so some nights I will have a queue up in the discord with the movies playing while I have class or am not home but here is our list for the year. I live in Texas and the movies usually happen starting in the afternoon or evening my time but I usually post on here to let everyone know we are starting and post corresponding gifs. Everyone is welcome to join and glad I get to keep this tradition up with yall still after all these years ❤️ if the queue system works well i might just put spooky themed media up during the day too if people are interested.

As always, tradition means we watch hocus pocus and Halloween on the 31st ❤️

1. Gremlins/ Gremlins 2

2. Paranormal activity 1/2/3

3. Wrong Turn 1/2

4. Psycho 1960

5. Abigail

6. Werewolf by night / Wer

7. We are the night / Kiss of the Damned

8. Final destination 1/2/3

9. Geralds Game

10. Scream 1/2/3

11. Eden Lake

12. Fresh

13. Friday the 13th

14. Ginger snaps/ Howl

15. The Ring / The Ring 2

16. Saw 1/2/3

17. Splinter/ Laid to rest

18. Dracula (1931) / The mummy (1932) / Frankenstein (1931)

19. Martyrs

20. Susperia / Funny Games

21. X / Pearl/ Maxxxine

22. The menu

23. Resident Evil/2/3/4

24. Would you rather/ Ready or not

25. Alien/ Aliens/ Alien 3/ Alien resurrection

26. Deep blue sea/ Under Paris / Jaws

27. The platform

28. Wolf Creek / Vacancy/ High tension

29. 13 Ghosts/ Nightbreed / Near Dark

30. Silence of the Lambs/ Hannibal/ Red Dragon

31. Hocus Pocus / Halloween 2007/ Halloween 2 2009/ Halloween 2018/ Halloween kills/ Halloween ends

[pastafossa]

I had another Charlie Cox/Daredevil related dream last night.

I am in an insanely long line at a Starbucks. The line, in front of me and behind me, is entirely FILLED with Charlie Cox lookalikes, an endless sea of counterfeit Charlies.

They were not Charlie though - they just all LOOKED like Charlie. Idk, maybe there was a contest or something. So anyway, I'm the lone pasta noodle in this Charlie contest line, chatting away, and eventually I get to the front and navigate through the 50 step menu. I select the glittery Frost Queen Witch frappucino with ginger sprinkles (or something like that, white and blue, sparkly, had a crown and witchy sigils on it) when all of a sudden there is a low, growing hum.

"Quick! Close the window!" howls the manager.

Five Charlie Dopplegangers run to the window but they are too late.

A swarm of killer bees slams into the 5 Charlie Lookalikes at the window, knocking them over like bowling pins.

That's right, my subconscious went

Anyway, I'm afraid of bees, so I rush over to the closet, drink in hand, go inside, and slam the door. I then mash towels against the bottom of the door to stop the bees. Outside, I can hear the Amazon Ordered Charlies running around screaming as they are attacked by wrathful Starbucks bees.

I sip my drink.

I do not open the door.

I do not try to save them.

Because in this dream, my only thought is, 'well at least they aren't the real Charlie. I need more Daredevil. Sucks for them, though.'

[phoenixcatch7]

Things tloz has not been consistent about that you'd think it would be:

Everything. Buckle up.

The hero being called Link. He's Link in the same way Frisk is the character. The player chooses the name in every SINGLE game up until botw, and that only happened because of the voice acting. It's just shorthand for the link between the player and the game.

The princess being called zelda. Wind waker, she was called Tetra.

The princess being in the game at all (links awakening)

There only being one princess (the hero of either hyrule or legend had two)

There only being one hero (hyrule warriors had three and also linkle)

The princess not being a playable character (hw, aoc, and upcoming EoW. There's also non canon games like cadence and smash bros).

The master sword being in the game (four swords, minish cap, triforce heroes (?), ooa/oos only have it as a linked game post story unlockable, zelda 1,2 and la it was the magical sword).

Ganon being in the game (basically the exact same as the last point minus the 1st 3 games)

Ganon being a bad guy (hyrule warriors and generously, GENEROUSLY aoc, where he's playable as an ally post game).

The master sword being needed to defeat ganon (in botw aoc and totk the master sword is entirely optional, and totally inverts the traditional 'zelda weakens and link deals the final blow').

Link being the main character (upcoming eow which I'm cackling about)

The existence of humanity

Link being in green (abotk made him blue :( and took his hat >:((().

Zelda being in pink (abotk)

Zelda being blonde (she's anything from blonde to brown to ginger)

Link being blonde (tp and lttp (why is he pink?! Zelda is blonde! There's brown haired people! Why neon pink??)

Gerudo having rounded ears (up until abotk)

Nintendo making the games (hw and aoc, cadence lol)

Teen/kid link (totk is the only Link over the age of 19)

Link having a companion (it's pretty evenly split)

Zelda having the companion (aoc and eow)

Link having two companions (hw with basically all of them)

The nature of humanity vs hylians

The story taking place in hyrule (literally so many... La, mm, ooa, oos, technically ww, technically ss, half points for lttp and lbw, tfh)

Just the one triforce (lbw)

Just three separate pieces of the triforce (ww)

Any triforce at all (okay this one is complicated bcz depiction/hand marks/Actual Wish Granting Triforce but hylia alone knows where the triforce was in abotk. I'm counting ooa/oos because opening cutscene. La has zilch and I'm pretty sure mc too.)

Literally any religion has come and gone INCLUDING IRL CHRISTIANITY

Knowledge of the triforce

Knowledge of hylia (it's literally just ss abotk and maaaybe lbw)

The existence of hylia (^^^

The general populace being useless (totk) (that's it)

Link being left handed (in ss and abotk he's right handed. Tp is 50% right handed because they flipped the controls (and world) for the wii).

Link being able to swim at the start of the game (only in the 3d games minus lbw and la remake)

Link succeeding in his quest (botw) (I'm not counting failed hero oot because it's a meta attempt at a working timeline)

At least a tiny bit of time travel (loz 1/2, la, fs, lbw, lttp, botw...)

The hylian shield (only appears in the 3d games! (-la remake and ww and mm))

Link using a bow! (surprisingly 50/50)

Epona!! (literally just oot mm and tp. Botk she's noncanon amiibo and she's in mc but doesn't belong to Link T-T.)

A tutorial (varying subtlety, yes, but there's a difference between the great plateau and a 'press x to open menu :D' prompt five minutes into the game while a knight is trying to kill you (lttp)).

Link having the hero's spirit (ww. I personally disagree but hey)

The hero being a hylian! (totk hero's aspect)

Sleepy boy link (botk he has power naps On Lock)

Link being masc presenting (linkle, hw)

The symbolic elements (3/5/7 combos, lightning/ice/water/fire/wind triforce, boar/owl/dragon/whatever tf)

Things tloz has been consistent about in every game:

Link being a gnc short king (tp is the beefiest he ever got and that was 4'9 male gymnast build at BEST).

Him not telling anyone anything important ever.

[ebitenpura]

reiterating off my tangent about a potential SWTOR themed cafe with foods representing the eight classes, I decided to come up with a fake menu for fun:

• Sith Inquisitor // Force Ghost Cereal in Lord Kallig's Helmet: Liquid nitrogen infused cereal puffs (with fog!) can be eaten out of a specialty treat bucket shaped after Lord Kallig's infamous helmet, producing a spooky and atmospheric effect of a spirit coming out of this sith lord's vessel. Comes with sweet black licorice flavor and purple yam flavor. The helmet can be washed and taken home as a keepsake.

• Imperial Agent // Castellan Restraint Cocktail with Serum IX Syrup: Non-alcoholic. Inject IX serum (kiwi syrup) into your blue curacao cocktail over fizzy lemonade and ice and blend. Comes with a monaka wafer of Watcher X's face and a red crosshair white chocolate decorative piece. Must be ordered with the secret keyword: onomatophobia.

• Sith Warrior // K'lor Slug Spaghetti al Nero: Black squid-ink spaghetti adorned with parsley, red ginger, and Korriban temple decorative pyramid wafers engraved with Sith teachings. Comes with a side of K'lor slug (one lobster tail) grilled with drawn butter to perfection. Worthy of any Sith Lord.

• Bounty Hunter // Grand Hunt Spicy Flamethrower Curry with 3-meat Skewers: Mandalorian emblem shaped pilaf rests atop hot curry with numerous spices, carrot, and potato in this hearty hunter's meal. 3 different kinds of meat skewers with 3 clan flags (ordo, viszla, lok) are supplied on the side with spicy mala dipping sauce held in a bounty hunter's bracer.

• Jedi Knight // Knight's Lightsaber Rolled Crepe: A crepe rolled into the shape of a lightsaber and drizzled generously with blue raspberry sauce, filled with fresh cream, konpeito, and berries. The mild sweet taste and galactic theme is reminiscent of the light side. The wrapping paper comes with a special print design of various Knight NPCs.

• Jedi Consular // Meditation Tea with Raindrop Cake: Fresh black tea is served aside a clear raindrop cake with dark kuromitsu sugar on one half of the plate and light kinako soybean flour on the other half, signifying the dark and light. The consular's mind is empty, yet draws on these forces, much like the cake. Which will you choose?

• Smuggler // Scattergun Sundae: Dual blaster monaka wafers adorn this loaded sundae (matcha, coffee, and vanilla) with broken glass (cracked sugar candies), blue milk pudding, and chocolate credit pieces, all in a waffle cup. Comes with a paper standee of the XS stock light freighter.

• Trooper // Republic Rationed Lunchbox Meal: Open a special box container modeled after M1-4X to eat themed rations of Mantellian beef stew, Coruscant croquettes (cream and corn), and Taris rakghoul-green wheat bread. The box comes with backpack straps and can be cleaned and worn as such.

[tastesoftamriel]

Talviel's Tamrielic Anniversary Banquet

In lieu of an updated jubilee cake for the 30 year TES/10 year ESO anniversary, here's a banquet menu fit for the nobility of Tamriel! Dig in!

Summerset

Soft Indrik cheese and caramelised onion and pear chutney vol-au-vents, with sundried tomatoes

Auridon Blue Monkfish, poached in Russafeld Heights chardonnay

Shimmerene cherry blossom snowskin mooncake, with an apricot mousse and lemon crème filling

Black Marsh

Crocodile dumplings, with a spicy peanut and sweet saltrice dipping sauce

Stormhold jerk kagouti haunch, with guar fat vegetable fried rice

"Kueh cendol" chewy tapioca rice cakes, with dark palm sugar and coconut milk and jelly layers. A Black Marsh specialty!

Valenwood

Wild venison Greenshade carpaccio, with whipped bacon-honey butter

Stone-baked timber mammoth tail, slow roasted for 48 hours with a honey and mammoth butter glaze

Frozen honeyed "bingsoo" yoghurt, with sweetgnats, candied bacon, and deep fried lard bits, drizzled with sweet condensed milk

High Rock

Alcaire smoked pea soup, with bacon lardons and fresh garden herbs

Flambéed foie gras à la Shornhelm, with a blood orange and goose fat reduction

Gorapple tarte tatin, with golden butterscotch sauce and Bantha vanilla bean ice cream

Morrowind

Smoked kwama egg yolk carbonara, with scrib bacon

Spicy Ashlander-style shalk and ash yam stew, served in a shalk carapace

"Baked Vvardenfell" guar milk ice cream and kwama meringue cake, flavoured with comberries and gold kanet flowers

Elsweyr

Old Anequina jerboa and "lap cheong" sausage pie, with a saffron rice and an ale-and-moon sugar gravy

Terror bird egg "foo yong hai" omelette, with an array of Pellitine seafood and a bhut jolokia moon sugar caramel dipping sauce

Frozen samar pekoe tea custard, with hot moon sugar fudge

Cyrodiil

Bruma barley soup, with homemade herbed sourdough foccacia

Barbecued Blackwood cavy, basted with a rich Surilie Brothers port and habanero barbecue sauce

Abecean sea salt, dark chocolate, and Cyrodiilic olive oil ice cream, with wild strawberry coulis

Skyrim

Markarth goat cheese and pine nut crème tartlets, with smoked juniper salt

Lake Honrich salmon steak, hot smoked over maple wood with Goldenglow honey, served with dill remoulade

Snowberry panna cotta, with spiced Whiterun apple-akevitt compote

Wrothgar

Echatere Gruyère and rosemary mini soufflés, with smoked Vorkhiposh roe

Echalette steak, served medium-rare, in a ginger wine jus

Kurog's wild berry chocolate gateaux, with whipped echatere cream and drenched in wrathberry brandy

Hammerfell

Port Hunding roasted red pepper and harissa hummus, with spiced lentil flatbreads

Spicy Alik'r giant snake tikka, with mint yoghurt dipping sauce and pickles

Coconut and medjool date kulfi, with a slice of rosewater and pistachio baklava

[momo-no-tane]

Box Cafe & Space has announced that they will be holding a Shugo Chara! cafe next month. The cafe will be held at Box Cafe & Space Shibuya 109 Shibuya Store from June 5th, 2025 to July 6th, 2025. If you purchase something from the following menus, you can receive an accessory.

Food Menu - Playing Card Style Card

Drink Menu - Straw Tag

Set Menu (Food + Mini Dessert Set) - Mini Card

Set Menu (Drink + Mini Dessert Set) - Straw Tag

Take Out Menu - Straw Tag

The prices are as follows (tax included):

Food:

Amu's Omurice​ - 1,690 yen

Tadase's Cream Pasta - 1,690 yen

Utau's Ramen - 1,690 yen

Ikuto's Dry Curry - 1,690 yen

Drink:

Amu's Lassi​ - 990 yen

Tadase's Blue Chamomile Tea - 990 yen

Utau's Grape Soda - 990 yen

Ikuto's Blue Ramune Soda - 990 yen

Set Menu:

Food + Mini Dessert Set - 2,190 yen

Drink + Mini Dessert Set - 1,490 yen

Mini Dessert:

Ran, Miki, Suu, and Daiya's Mini Parfait

Kiseki's Mini Parfait

Iru and Eru's Mini Parfait

Yoru's Mini Parfait

Dessert / Side Drink:

Packed with Dreams! Heart's Egg Mousse Cake - 1,390 yen

Hot Coffee - 690 yen

Hot Tea - 690 yen

Iced Coffee - 690 yen

Iced Tea - 690 yen

Cola - 690 yen

Orange - 690 yen

Ginger Ale - 690 yen

Take Out:

Ikuto's Blue Ramune Soda - 990 yen

Utau's Grape Soda - 990 yen

Amu's Lassi​ - 990 yen

Tadase's Blue Chamomile Tea - 990 yen

Original Goods:

Acrylic Keychains (4 Types) (Random) - 770 yen

Acrylic Charms (4 Types) (Random) - 605 yen

Pin Buttons (8 Types) (Random) - 605 yen

Compact Mirror (1 Type) - 2,200 yen

Drawstring Purse (1 Type) - 1,430 yen

Sticker Set (1 Type) - 1,089 yen

Dolomite Coaster (1 Type) - 1,320 yen

Source: Box Cafe & Space, Nijimen, X

[daisyswift3]

Castles Crumbling 💍👻

I think the castle is going to crumble today at the Chiefs game (which btw is at the LA Sofi Stadium, what an interesting coincidence)

“Coffee at midnight” -> “That’s that me ESPRESSO” -> Sabrina’s Short n Sweet -> Olivia’s SOUR -> Julia Cooper’s SWEET N SOUR (which I think uses the cardigan metaphor to describe Taylor’s duality; Taylor the brand vs Taylor the person) -> Sabrina's Taste (sweet and sour are flavors) -> the secret menu in the 5th 🎃 message (which is abt the mass coming out movement) -> the Short n Sweet Cafe in NYC being from Sept 27-29 -> Sept 27 being World’s Biggest Coffee Morning -> Sept 29 being when the castle will crumble -> the Short n Sweet cafe being 1989 moonstone blue 🩵 -> “Some guy said my aura’s moonstone” -> Bejeweled mv ending scene where Taylor’s castle crumbles -> Chappell’s Coffee and My Kink Is Karma -> Taylor mysteriously going missing while Chappell burned down the castle at the VMAs -> Hayley Williams, who collabed w Taylor on Castles Crumbling, wearing a Vivienne Westwood dress that looks very similar to Taylor’s yellow dress in Bejeweled -> “The best ppl in life are free” -> Clean/Is It Over Now? -> Karlie and Hayley Williams both being in Paris this last week -> Young Woman and the Sea being abt a woman who competed at the 1924 Paris Olympics and shattered glass ceilings (ginger messages) -> The Paris Olympics opening ceremony which featured a headless Marie Antoinette in a castle that looks like it's burning bc of all the pyrotechnics -> Taylor dressing as Marie Antoinette in Bejeweled bc her fans are abt to figuratively behead her for rejecting Travis's proposal at the game today

(x)

[trancylovecraft]

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆THE CHRISTMAS MENU

Salutations, My name is Trancy, Welcome to my café!

Here at The Nowhere Café, We are excited to announce our first writing event for the month of December. When the fated month comes around, I want to have twenty five separate drabbles of your favourite YANDERE characters- All published and finished in the days leading up to Christmas!

For each entry in the menu, I will make a short drabble for each character that you request. Your request will be tailored depending on what drink/food you order in the prompt section below.

And what are the prompts you ask?

EGGNOG: Amnesia/Memory Alteration HOT CHOCOLATE: Forced Affection MULLED WINE: Willing Reader CHAMPAGNE: Manipulation TURKEY: Bone Breaking/Yandere-Inflicted Injury STUFFED GOOSE: Reader's Death MINCE PIE: Cannibalism ROAST RABBIT: Escaped Reader CHRISTENROLLE: International Christmas Activity. TRIFLE: Kidnapping GINGERBREAD: Imprisonment/Punishment YULE LOG: Fluff TIRAMISU: Platonic Yandere (You may order up to THREE different food/drink item's for your request.)

CHECK OUT MY MENU FOR THE FANDOMS I ACCEPT!

RULES FOR REQUESTING!

Please Include the name of your character and the fandom they belong to along with the 1-3 prompts that you want within your request.

Your request will be themed around the festive holiday, As you can probably tell. Please include the prompts in the above section to tell me what kind of festive activity you want reader to get traumatised to.

If I get too much of one fandom, I may stop accepting entries for them. I want variety!

I am a yandere blog, If you request, You will get yandere.

I do NOT write smut or pointless SA.

NOTES: Since I won't have time to do any fun writing events for Halloween, I have decided instead to settle on the second best- Christmas! I've also decided to open the request's for it early, Since I'll need time to write it all <3 ive also stopped doing moral orel for now btw. i love the show but i am tired of the reqs for it.

LEVI ACKERMAN (AOT): Roast Rabbit, Gingerbread, Hot Chocolate

2. SATORU GOJO (JJK): Gingerbread, Hot Chocolate

3. MEPHISTO PHELES (BLUE EXORCIST): Eggnog, Champagne, Hot Chocolate

4. KOKUSHIBO (KNY): Roast Rabbit, Turkey

5. ADELHEID AURELIA FAUST (TEKISUTOTON): Christenrolle, Hot Chocolate, Ginger Bread

6. ENMU (KNY): Eggnog, Hot Chocolate, Champagne

7. BILL CIPHER: Tiramisu

8. JOHN DOE (JOHN DOE): Mince Pie

9. KENTO NANAMI (JJK): Tiramisu, Gingerbread

10. ABDUCIUS MORAIL (TNMN): Stuffed Goose, Turkey

11. ROBBIE (GRAVITY FALLS): Christenrolle

12. JD (HEATHERS): Champagne, Stuffed Goose, Gingerbread

13. L LAWLIET (DEATHNOTE): Gingerbread, Hot Chocolate

14. ALASTOR (HAZBIN HOTEL): Mulled Wine

15. LUKE CASTELLAN (PERCY JACKSON): Eggnog, Trifle

16. KYOJURO RENGOKU (KNY): Christenrolle, Hot Chocolate

17. YOG SOTHOTH (TNMN): Roast Rabbit, Trifle

18. RAMONA FLOWERS (SPTO): Yule Log

19. PERCY JACKSON (PJO): Mulled Wine, Yule Log (GN!reader)

20. FRANCIS MOSSES (TNMN): Hot Chocolate, Trifle, Mulled Wine

21. RAGATHA (TADC): Turkey, Hot Chocolate

22. RYOMEN SUKUNA (JJK): Tiramisu, Mince Pie, Mulled Wine

23. MAMMON (HH): Roast Rabbit, Turkey, Gingerbread

24. VENTI (GENSHIN): Hot Chocolate, Gingerbread, Tiramisu

25. LEWIN LIGHT (BLUE EXORCIST): Hot Chocolate, Turkey, Tiramisu

[love-and-deepspace-wiki]

Elysium: The Connoisseur's Menu

Details:

Elysium's "The Connoisseur's Menu" is the most infamous menu in the N109 Zone. Not only do it's dishes draw inspiration from the area's most celebrated eras and figures, but it also doubles as a top-secret ledger for "intel trading" and "deals with high stakes". Menu items are subject to change due to seasonal availability and local logistics.

Each menu item includes a summary of the dish, a series of numbers (representing services from their "Special Services" list), and a description.

Menu Items:

Do It:

House special blend. One-third whiskey, two scoops of cream, one brown sugar cube, and a sprinkle of fate. (Complimentary)

Description: Every gift comes with a hidden price. But this coffee is actually free. "Do It" can be a command or an expression of encouragement. Then again, some say to ignore people and do whatever you want.

Mobster's Salad:

Mashed potatoes, eggs, fresh shrimp, chickpeas, and yogurt, all crushed together with desire. (5, 6, 7, 8)

Description: They came here to survive. They drowned in their own greed. To those ruthless criminals we lost forever. Without them... The N109 Zone wouldn't be what it is today. Although they're no longer here to see it.

Coward's Shell:

Fresh oysters, lemon juice, ground pepper, and a dash of courage. (1, 3, 4)

Description: Without their sturdy shelter, the spineless remain spineless. That is why we built our foundation from the strongest materials. This dish honors those misfits who once graced our establishment. Without them, Elysium would never exist. Some exiles become worthless junk, and others transform into pearls. Is it the environment that determines their fate? Or their own nature?

The N109 Grand Platter:

Venison from acorn-fed deer, white truffle cheese, white caviar, and blue lobster tart with mango. Complimentary to the true VIPs. (3, 5)

Description: Four distinct powers dominate the N109 Zone. They are the true players at the N109 Zone's gambling table. A platter of four rare delicacies. They don't complement each other. They're just equally expensive. Choose wisely. If you're unsure, try them one at a time.

24K Exchange Artist:

Chicken leg cooked with scallion oil, soy sauce, salt, golden coconut oil, sesame oil, shredded ginger, and scallions. Comes with a dash of humor. (1, 2, 4, 6)

Description: He's no thief. He's an artist who believes in fair exchange! Dedicated to the unseen Phantom Thief Pea. Everything has a price. Pain is traded for an equal amount of pain. Joy is exchanged an equal amount of joy. But is your happiness truly equal to mine?

The Point of No Return:

Smoked pigeon, saffron, pickled onions, barley, toasted truffle bread with au jus, and 100% trust. (5, 7, 8)

Description: At Charon, no deal goes unmade. The "pigeon" meat from the market's "arena." A rare delicacy available only this season. Pay the appropriate fee. And they will fulfill your every wish. Remember... Once a deal is in place, there's no turning back.

Strawberry Disaster Special:

Strawberry ice cream, fresh strawberries, strawberry sauce, chocolate-covered strawberries, chili powder made from the Red Savina pepper, and a four-leaf clover. (7)

Description: If you survived 2036... The gang war that engulfed the N109 Zone... This is the dessert you can't refuse. Rich ice cream wrapped in strawberry sauce... And spiced with chili to sting your tongue. Like that night, when the streets ran red... Not all survivors were strong, and not all the strong survived. Wouldn't you agree, you lucky duck?

Today's Special: Sweet Evil Trap:

Pepper walnut tart, rosemary gelato, pomegranate jelly, red wine marshmallow, and 10.5 grams of soul. (0)

Description: I'm waiting for you.

Special Services:

Assassination

Arms Deals

Infiltration

Intel Collection

Mediation

Biological Substances

Protocore Trading

Proxy Deals

Today's Special: ?

Interesting Facts:

In "Main Story: Death and Rebirth: Absurdity Unfolds: Connoisseur's Dessert", the protagonist orders "Sweet Evil Trap". Though every item in the menu tells a story from the N109 Zone, Aislinn mentioned that the story behind this particular "[hadn't] started yet" and had been waiting for someone to order it "for a long time now". After finishing the dessert, the protagonist said it was "like [Sylus]". When presented with her bill, it included a five-digit number. When she input the number into a map of the Charon Arena, a red dot appeared on a location called "West District Docks".

[vilevexedvixen]

Inscryption cocktails

Each Scrybe would have a menu reflecting their three minions (increasing in size - a shot, a squat drink, then a tall drink) and then the main cocktail based off of the menu's titular Scrybe.

Each scrybe also has a dish relating to them and how they play their cards.

Thank you @dariusblake for your suggestions on different flavour profiles and placemat details.

Leshy's menu:

"The prospector"

A caramel whisky shot rimmed with golden nugget cereal crumbs. Modelled after the gold nuggets the prospector can transform cards into.

"The Angler"

A salted liquorish cocktail using anise flavouried liquior and fish-shaped gummy salted liquorish hanging over the rim of a bucket shaped recepticle. Modelled after the Angler's bait bucket card.

"The Trapper/Trader"

A rich, blood-red velvet cocktail made with red grenadine and a chocolate liquior. Served in a stein with a fake bit of pelt padding embellishing the handle. More modelled after his trading role than how he plays cards.

"The Scrybe of Beasts"

A botanical gin-based cocktail comprised of rhubarb gin, elderflower tonic and red grenadine seeping in from the top like a drop of blood, garnished with a sprig of elderflower. Served in a tall tiki mask glass (ideally etched to look like his masks, but a normal tiki glass would work) Playing into his tree-like appearance, emphasis on blood sacrifice (thematically and mechanically), and because he's an old man (hence use of elderflower specifically).

"Eight Fucking Bears"

Technically more of a food challenge than a regular dish of eight very spicy pork ribs with a thick, blood-like sauce.

Grimora's menu:

"Royal Dominguez"

A limoncello and triple sec shot rimmed with crushed sherbert. Based on his death from scurvy at sea.

"Sawyer Patel"

A stout Sheep Dog peanut butter whisky and ginger ale drink served in a tumbler lined with a dash of peanut butter drizzle.

"Kaycee Hobbes"

A refreshing blueberry vodka and fireball slushy served in a tall glass and garnished with blueberries and cinammon caramel drizzle.

"The Scrybe of The Dead"

A black forest espresso martini made with Kaluha, cherry vodka, chocolate liquior and a shot of espresso. Served in a china teacup with a pitted black cherry skewered on the teacup's rim.

"The Lord of Bones"

Fried chicken drumsticks and wings served in a coffin-shaped basket.

Magnificus' menu:

"Goobert"

Lime jelly(jello) shot. The shot glass would have little googly eyes stuck to it and an edible paper wizard hat instead of an umbrella.

"The Pike Mage"

A sweet and spicy chipotle-orange syrup, bourbon and vanilla liquior cocktail served in a martini glass and garnished with a skewered glacie cherry donning an edible paper wizard hat.

"The Lonely Wizard"

Black Sangria (made with dark wine - blackberries, black grapes and black plums) imbued with green edible glitter. Served in a wine glass and garnished with a lime slice donning an edible paper wizard hat.

"The Scrybe of Magicks"

A colourful tie-dye milkshake of creme de menthe, mint ice cream and strawberry cream liquieur embellished with edible glitter. Served in a tall flute and garnished with a swirl of whipped cream, rainbow sprinkles and a spherical marshmallow made to look like Magnificus' missing arcane eye in place of a cherry.

"Mox"

A dessert made of blue raspberry, orange and apple sorbet scoops. Sprinkled with crushed sherbert and gemstone-shaped hard candies.

Po3's menu:

"The Inspector"

A simple blue raspberry sour shot with a blue raspberry popping candy rim.

"The Melter"

A vibrantly fire-coloured chocolate orange spritz. Mixing chocolate liquieur with aperol and prosecco. Garnished with curled orange rind and dark chocolate shavings.

"The Dredger"

A boba blue gin fizz. Made of bombay sapphire gin, lemon juice blue curaçao and soda water with lemon boba. Served with a silver coloured straw.

"The Scrybe of Technology"

A bright blue bubblegum cocktail topped with sweet sparkling wine and lemonade. Served in a tall, angular glass. The most boring of the Scrybe cocktails tbh.

"Kilo-bites"

Byte-sized sharing platter of savoury pastries and square pizza slices made to look like floppy discs.

I'll be honest, I was drawing a blank for Po3's menu. Dude's Vox if Vox had self-control, which takes away a lot of vibrancy to bounce off of for flavour profiles and visual ideas.

Bonus Mycologist dish:

Roasted ox-tongue mushroom, stuffed with mushroom paté and blue cheese with a creamy but sharp cheese sauce.

Ngl, Leshy's is my favourite menu. Definitely tempted to make it, maybe for an Inscryption themed party?

[jaxxsoxxn]

Do you think boomer would ever be comfortable talking about his son’s death? I mean losing the kid is way harder.

Or he hasn’t never told anyone he ever had a son and when he just mentioned it out of the blue everyone’s like surprise and I can just imagine Harley saying oh my God you have a kid can we see him and Boomer just said it’s so normally you can’t, he’s dead he got murdered anyway, I’m hungry 

I feel like Boomer doesn't deal well with death of people close to him. He probably just doesn't actually think of it as a thing that happened, but more like as a fact - my son was also ginger, he was young, he died.

He gets into his feelings only when he has to recall the way he died and it's like it happens all over again. I'd say it's something like shock for him, just staying way longer than for normal people.

Digger can be childish, but he's also kinda... Apathetic to most things that happen around him. Most people would probably tie the "he's dead" under it, but I feel like Harley, ex psychologist, would try to get some more information and with every push, it'd just make Boomer more jumpy, more scared.

If the kid would die in front of him, I imagine he'd remember every single detail. Especially since I hc it that the kid died at his 8th bday. (you know, just for fun)

So, for me, it would be way more like the second version.

~~~

The squad was mostly tired right now. The after-mission high was slowly dying out, when they sat down in the random Gotham fast-food and Flag went to get their orders in. The subject was technically started by Harley, one of her painted nails pointed at a kids meal with a toy.

"Ya think we should get it for my gal and Toyboy?" she said, a genuinely happy smile on her face. "And the toys aren't bat-themed!"

Shark grabber the menu and pulled it almost comically close to his face, while Floyd rolled his eyes.

"Zoey has been into green lantern theme lately, though she says Wonder Woman is still her favourite..." he mumbled, trying to keep his typical for Gotham look.

"My kid loved the toys back in Australia, doubt he'd like them here though."

Boomer said, shocking most of them. Deadshot looks at him with worry mixed with anger, while Shark tries to decide if it's another weird joke. Only Harley smiles wider, though there's slight surprise in her eyes, too.

"Ya have a kid? Oh me, are they ginger like ya? How old are they? Why haven't we met em?! Do ya have pictures?" her voice is delighted at the idea, even though a smaller Digger doesn't sound so great.

"Uh, ye, a son, yeah, eight and he's dead, been dead for a while, so I don't have pictures." he counts the answers out on his fingers, missing how everyone freezes. Before anyone tries to say more, he softly whispers under his breath, like it's a memory hitting him suddenly: "I didn't have money for his burial..."

And Harley catches the shake of his hand, the tremble of his voice and the way his eyes look down in shame and something so close to self-hatered that it makes her stomach flip.

By the time food comes, Boomer's acting like he never said anything, eating with vigor of someone who didn't have a meal for weeks. The rest of them just send each other worried stares in silence, poking at the food and trying to regain their appetite.