#hard cider flight

[paulpingminho]

#Wild Hare #hard cider flight #apple cider #Leesburg #Virginia #alcohol #log house

[latenightbump]

I'm in an airport lounge and they offer free super dry Asahi. I got a 9 hour flight. Tempted to go ham.

#i bought hard cider for my arrival flight but This. IS FREE.

[dirt-mccracken]

SEATTLE TOMORROW!!!!!

#i just checked in for my flight im so hyped rn #MCS and streetlight and my friends and good hard cider and and and the least sleep possible for 4 straight days

[spaceacealex]

Trip report!!

For those that have been waiting, sorry! I got home and immediately had to go help with a family thing. But here it is!

First, was the obvious. We had to drop off the baby boy with my parents. He had a great time with the family and was very dirty, stinky, and sleepy when we got back.

So where were we? We went to see the eclipse! As many of you know, My wife proposed to me under totality in the 2017 solar eclipse. So she surprised me with time off to travel to this last one on 4/8!

We flew to Nashville, TN and rented a car so I could scratch my road trip itch. We visited her family in KY, then went up to Cairo, IL for the event.

THIS is the public library in Cairo. It's an absolutely darling building, built originally to be a library and still proudly serving that purpose. The gals who were manning the counter were sweet, knowledgeable, and so welcoming. They had goodie bags with moon pies and starbursts and collected the eclipse glasses when we were done with them so they could be sterilized and sent down to Mexico for the next eclipse. So lovely to talk with and they welcomed us to spend the eclipse on their lawn with some local families. So we did!

We had a little picnic, chatted with some of the families, and got to watch totality in a tiny little town with so much character I still smile just thinking about it.

Hopefully you don't expect us to have top tier eclipse photography lol, but these are great for us! I got to kiss my wife under totality and it was hella romantic.

Then I got to drive more....then Kara got to drive because there were a ton of accidents and the three hour drive back to Nashville took more than six hours. So uh, my motion-sick self was struggling with the stop and go traffic.

But when we got there, we had a great night and then day walking around Eastside Nashville and pointing out the arcades I was going to take Kara to that evening.

That didn't quite happen.

Because the first stop we made in the arcade crawl is where we stayed all night.

No Quarter, the pinball arcade I now have a hat for because it's so friggin cool. We got to do many cool things there. 1)They had excellent drinks and in true Oregonian fashion I got to try the local cider and judge it. (it was good!) 2) I kicked Kara's ass at pinball. Very important. 3) I got MY ass kicked at pinball by literally every other person in the building. Also very important. Because 4) I got to play in a pinball tournament hosted by Belles and Chimes, specifically for women and non binary folks!

How did I, notorious nerves-haver and not a multiplayer pinball player join this?

5) I got to meet Quinn Hills. You know, @quinnhills ? Yeah. I'm still so giggly about it.

Hi. This pic is me, many drinks in, just absolutely giddy getting to meet (and hug!!) one of my favorite artists.

She's so sweet, so kind, and asked if I wanted to join the tournament.

Remember: do what beautiful women ask of you.

I am still kicking myself because I dropped the cliche, "your music has helped me through some really hard stuff." I mean, its absolutely true!! But I had told myself I was gonna be more eloquent than that. Oh well. I would blame the cider, but I was super excited and nervous before that, so I think I'm just a little goofy.

Kara also was happy to meet the woman who's music I had been blaring for that whole six plus hour car ride back to Nashville, and she's agreed to play pinball with me at our home bar! Major win!

We stayed until one in the morning, Kara ordered pizza to the hotel, and we had safe flights back home the rest of the day.

It was such a fun trip and I'm still losing my mind at all the little bits of it.

When I stream next (soon) I'm sure you'll hear about all this again. Along with my breakdown of eclipse conspiracies I've spent far too much time analyzing. <3

#talking tag #quinn hills

[monzamash]

red desert — daniel ricciardo

summary - I'm a slag for boys on dirt bikes and I'm not proud of it. warnings - mostly fluff with a LOT of swearing (sorry), sexual references, crude language, smut adjacent content, aussie slang. 18+ word count - 2.8k a/n - This is my first attempt at writing for F1 and it's also my triumphant return to tumblr in like, 10 years so go easy on me! masterlist

“At first I thought he was in his element but now he’s hooning around like a fucking loose unit.

“He’s a professional driver, mate. Don’t stress.”

Daniel really was in his element. After 8 months of non-stop madness, countless flights and sleepless nights – he was home. Home at last. It had been a day marked in his calendar since December last year when you had boarded the plane with him in Perth and bided farewell to his family who he adored so much. Every goodbye hurting more than the last until every ounce of energy had been sucked from his soul, resulting in him conking out a few minutes into your flight back to your home away from home.

He had been gifted a few extra weeks back in Western Australia over Christmas and New Years now that his schedule and commitments had dwindled down. Although it had been a hard pill to swallow in the aftermath of his new contract, the silver lining was more time with the people who mattered the most. The ones he had been neglecting for the better part of 15 years and counting. He had missed so many family events, so many birthdays, weddings, and even a funeral. Each time he missed out on being apart of those special memories, you could see his big, loving heart breaking from the guilt.

But Daniel was going to be damned if he didn’t make the most of his time at home, savouring those extra hours to start making up for lost time. And he was bloody going for it. Loud yahoos from the neighbourhood kids could be heard all the way from where you were sitting on the porch, cider in hand and a packet of salt and vinegar chips abandoned beside you. It was scorching hot as it always was this time of the year in Australia. 37 degrees Celsius but dropping as the sun slipped behind the large gum trees that lined the Ricciardo’s property. It really was every young country boy or girls dream out there.

Nothing but red dirt and a mouthful of blowflies as far as the naked eye could see. It was glorious.

“Now he’s just taking the piss!” You screeched to Michael who had surrendered to the blazing sun and sought shelter under the veranda beside you. Michael was Daniel’s right hand man and his personal trainer rolled into one. He had also been a dear friend of the Ricciardo family for many, many years and had been invited along for the festivities.

Michael chuckled and shrugged nonchalantly, “Your boyfriend, your problem,” He replied with a knowing look as you quirked an eyebrow and watched Daniel challenging a 12 year old child on a beat up PeeWee 50 that looked like it could’ve been from the 80s.

“Sometimes it feels like you’re the boyfriend and I’m his handler,” You stated as Michael shook his head and took a swig of his beer, “You know that’s not true, mate. That dickhead loves you more than you could ever know.”

You nodded and looked back out at the small crowd gathering to watch the love of your life jump a couple of shoddily built ramps on his revved up dirt bike. He was gonna kill himself, you thought.

“I know he does.”

Daniel’s love for you had never been questioned, not for a second. No matter where he was in the world, it didn't matter the time or place; he was thinking about you. And visa versa. When you were sitting alone in your shared apartment in Monte Carlo, he was on your mind, wondering what he was doing or what insane thing he got to do that day. You were each other’s world but you were also hyper aware that racing came hand in hand with your relationship with Daniel – no matter how much he insisted it didn’t. The proof was in the pudding.

“You know that he finally told Christian that he wouldn’t be at every race next year. Straight up. I didn’t think he would,” You said, fascinated to see if Michael agreed with that decision or not. Daniel’s career was at a crossroads and so was Michael’s if he wasn’t racing every weekend.

“’Bout fuckin’ time. He’s been working like a pack horse for over a decade and deserves some time to breathe and I’m sure that time will be well spent,” Michael nodded and brushed off his shorts as he stood up, “This is all he’s ever wanted, you know? All of this with you,” He pointed out to the man-made red soil racetrack with a wink.

“Make the most of it.”

“Cheers to that,” You smiled as you clinked your bottle with Michael. He got it. And he was the first person to advocate for Daniel when the going got tough, whether that be in the paddock or in the media. It was no secret that Daniel had been through the wringer not knowing if he had a seat next season, or if he’d be involved in the sport at all. It had been a shit-show and you and Michael had front row seats for the better part of 6 months watching it all unfold. The turmoil had nearly broken his seemingly unbreakable spirit but he was stronger than anyone could’ve imagined.

Daniel’s loud, boisterous laugh broke you from your thoughts and you watched as he pulled off the way-too-small helmet he’d borrowed from his brother-in-law. He dropped the dirt bike down on the small patch of lawn that was barely holding on in the sweltering heat and bounded towards you with that infamous shit-eating grin, “Heard you were worried about me up here?” He asked more as a question rather than a statement.

“Course not,” You scoffed, “You’re a big boy who can handle those small, yet extremely unsafe ramps out there.” You were half-joking and he could see the genuine concern behind your eyes. He knew you better than anyone.

“Oh, I know that you know I’m a big boy,” He murmured under his breath as he tried to sit down on your lap, still completely covered in dust and sweat, “Shouldn’t be tellin’ the whole world though, ay?” He teased as you pushed him off, refusing to let him dirty your perfectly clean clothes before dinner.

“Eww, you fuckin’ stink. Get off me,” You laughed, standing up from the rocking chair that you were lounging in and placing your small hands on his chest. “So handsome but so sticky,” You quietly grimaced as you looked up into his playful chestnut eyes and brushed your soft fingertips over the cotton shirt he was jeering you in.

Daniel’s eyebrow rose with intrigue as his tanned, tattooed arm wrapped around your waist, bringing you closer. He was wearing that damn sleeveless shirt that he knew riled you up at the best of times, but the combination of his relaxed demeanour, toothy grin and the way the thin material was sticking to every muscle on his body, it had you hot under the collar. That was the effect he had on you and boy, did he know it. Daniel took advantage of your close proximity and leaned down, pecking your pouting lips.

“I’ll let you join me in the shower if you admit you were a tiiiiny bit scared,” He taunted in a hushed voice, dragging out his words and making your eyes roll.  

“Please!” You mocked, “This is a lose-lose for you, Danny. You’ve never been good at blackmailing, darling and it shows,” You gently poked his tummy and spun around on your heel, making your way back inside to enjoy the air-conditioner that was blasting through the house.

“Fuck,” Daniel scolded himself, realising that there was no way you would admit to being scared, “I’m really off my game today. I thought doing those sickass wheelies would’ve reeled you in.”

He was playing with you, although watching him totally dominate a bunch of heckling teenagers did make you squeeze your thighs that little bit closer together. But you couldn’t tell him that.

You chuckled, secretly loving how defeated he must’ve looked sulking behind you like a sad puppy. Daniel’s beast mode was something you admired, craved even, especially during a race weekend or in your bedroom after teasing him with your wandering fingertips. He had a ferociousness that so many people got to witness on TV throughout his career and a level of intensity that was almost hard to believe he had when you got to know the man underneath the helmet. Most of the time Daniel was gentle, caring and an aspiring comedian if you asked him. He was always the life of the party but he was also the light in the life of everyone he knew.

You were one of the lucky ones who got to experience all the different facets of his personality, some you loved more than others. Sulking on Christmas Eve wasn’t one you were particularly fond of but you had a plan to rectify that – one that you knew would perk him up.

Daniel was taken aback when you turned and continued strutting down the hallway before entering the room you were sharing together while you were here. “Lock the door and please don’t make me regret this,” You said before kicking off your slides and turning around to see that cheesy fucking grin again. He was beautiful but insufferable.

“That’s it – I’m out!” You fake shouted and threw your hands up before Daniel surged forward and snaked his arm around you again, his smile dropping into a smirk.

“I’m just fuckin’ with you, baby. Come ‘ere,” He whispered, capturing your curled up bottom lip with his in a sweet kiss, “Let me love you.”

Your hands crawled up and brushed against his warm neck, small grains of dirt snuck under your fingernails as they dragged gently across his glistening skin. Daniel kicked off his Vans and a small whimper slipped from your lips as he slowly nudged you towards the en suite, one eye slightly open so he didn’t ram you against the tiled bathroom wall. Well, at least not yet anyway.

“We’re just showering. No funny business,” You mumbled against his perfect lips as if you could read Daniel's filthy mind, not wanting to break the spine-tingling kiss but needing to put down some ground rules.

“I should be saying that to you, ma’am,” Daniel nuzzled into your neck while skilfully unbuttoning the black denim shorts that were clinging to your hips, “You’re the one who loves getting railed in the shower, remember?”

Of course you did. You had countless memories of being fucked into a state of absolute ecstasy by Daniel either in your shower back in Monaco or that unbelievably lavish hotel shower in Abu Dhabi that was the size of a studio apartment. All of those visions came rushing back as you stood in your future parents-in-law’s spare bedroom, half-naked and wishing for nothing more than for their son to do exactly that. Fuck you.

“Don’t say railed,” You quietly moaned as Daniel focused in on the sweet spot just below your ear and tossed the white shirt you’d stolen from him aside, “So vulgar.” You were smirking and Daniel could tell from the tone in your voice. He also knew how much you loved his dirty talk.

“You fuuucking love it,” He deeply groaned and grasped your face in his large hands, quickly bringing you back to the present so you were looking into those gorgeous brown eyes again. You were a goner.

“I really, really do,” You whispered and reached for the waistband on his shorts, “Feels like you do too.”

Daniel was always just a couple of minutes from being exactly where you needed him in times like this. Hard. It never really took much besides a few sweet nothings whispered into his ear and maybe a touch or two to get the show underway. He had an unimaginable level of self-control but when you needed him, he was right there, standing to attention and desperate for what was to come. Pun-intended.

“Always ready for you, baby',” He whispered as his lips trailed over your chest that was on display and perfectly positioned for him to have his way, “Thank you god,” He playfully teased, praying up at the ceiling with a grin before you shushed him and reached for the shower taps.

“You’re a dork,” You jested sweetly as his fingertips slid your very colourful, polka dot undies down, making him chuckle. “Not as dorky as these knickers though.” He teased but deep down, he thought you looked cute.

“Don’t even try and pretend that this isn’t what you imagine when we’ve been apart for a month and you’re thinking about me in some ridiculously expensive hotel room, god knows where,” You sarcastically replied and posed up against the shower door with an exaggerated pout, “So hot, right?”

Daniel’s bravado dropped for a split second as his eyes glanced over you, taking in the image before him. He was mesmerised by your beauty every single time you stepped into a room, and when you left a room if he was being completely honest with his shameless self. This was what he imagined when he found himself desperately missing you, hand wrapped around his aching cock late at night, wishing it was you squeezing out everything he had to give. He wanted you. He needed you. 

“You will forever be my fantasy, baby. And probably the death of me too,” Daniel declared before guiding you under the lukewarm water. He didn't need to say much more because he understood that you knew how much he missed your touch on those lonely nights. And you were always a FaceTime call away if he needed that little extra push across the finish line.

Daniel took the lead. Deep down all he really wanted in this moment was to be close to you. All the teasing and flirting was just a bit of fun to pass the time. He was obsessed with you and god, did he want to do unspeakable things to you but right now, he just needed to feel you there. Physically having you by his side had been a luxury during the season and you both hated being apart but that was how it was. Like it or lump it. But being able to stand under a cascading waterfall and wash off the day you’d spent laughing and living life together was an indulgence that you never took for granted. Especially not now.

“Feel good, honey?” You asked, gently massaging his sun-kissed back. Every muscle contracted as the knots loosed under his taut skin, begging for a release and you delivered. “Feels incredible.”

Daniel closed his eyes and savoured the sensation of your hands moving down his tight back. Everything hurt all of the time with the intense training and relentless race weekends so having you take away all that tension and all that stress for him made him smile. He could feel his mouth tugging upwards as you pressed a firm kiss to his shoulder blade and a softer one to his spine before wrapping your arms around his slim waist, “I’ll wash your hair out before we run out of hot water.”

“Ta,” Daniel quietly mumbled, suddenly lost for words.

But he knew he could be quiet with you. The silence was comfortable as you turned him around to face you so you could run your fingers through his soapy curls, making sure every scarp of dirt, grass and more than likely a bug or two was rinsed down the drain. The water swirling around your feet was tinted orange as it washed away and Daniel couldn’t help but giggle when you gently scratched his scalp with your fingernails. His eyes were closed and an involuntary smile crept across your face as he groaned in pleasure. Scalp massages are the greatest, you thought to yourself.

“You’re such a little grub – look at the water,” You teased, moving your hands from his hair to his jaw, forcing him to look at the mess he’d made.

“That’s pure Aussie blood, sweat and tears right there,” Daniel retorted with his best Bogan accent as he shook his curls and wiped the running water from his eyes, sending droplets flying everywhere.

“Alright, Paul Hogan – let’s get out of here,” You tutted with a smile and gave his chest a light tap, motioning for him to grab you a towel to dry off.

“We could just air dry, you know? Save on laundry and all that,” Daniel winked and you fleetingly saw that naughty glint in his eyes before he stepped forward with a towel open, ready to wrap you up like a burrito.

“I’d be so into that if I didn’t think your niece or nephew could burst in any second,” You reasoned and Daniel wholeheartedly agreed, although still slightly disappointed. “Yeah, probably don’t wanna scar them for life with this rig, ey?” He chuckled and methodically dried off every inch of skin on your body with crude remarks aplenty. Obviously.

"We can have our own little christmas eve celebration later if you can hold off until then," You bargained as Daniel stood up and pushed his wet curls back off his forehead, causing small droplets to slip down his sun-kissed cheeks. His bright smile was back in full force and the fist pump of excitement was a nice touch.

"You know I can't make any promises, babe. Might have to wrap it up early," He winked and you couldn't stop the blush creeping up your neck. That was the effect he had on you from day one and that was how it would always be.

a/n - I have so many ideas for Daniel and a couple of other drivers so let me know if you liked this one or any story ideas you'd like to see written! #monzamashmasterlist

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 one shot #monzamash #formula one #daniel ricciardo fluff #monzamashmasterlist

[soulofapatrick]

Forbidden Fruit - Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: Your dad’s best friend, Joel, saves you at the bar and it leads to more than either of you expected

Words: 3.4k 

Warnings: creepy guy; Joel punching someone 

Notes: Forbidden Fruit Series Masterlist

Y/N’s POV 

I knew I shouldn’t have come out tonight but it was Daisy’s birthday and I promised her I’d be here. As I slide out of the booth to get my second drink of the night I can’t help but feel a little out of place, watching them all giggling and throwing back shots like it’s water, their faces flushed from alcohol and slurring their words. I arrived late so I missed the pre-drinks which I don’t mind as I’m not much of a drinker, the sight of my weird friend group making me shake my head fondly when I make my way to the bar. 

As I order a cider, I lean against the bar and take a moment to survey the scene. The dimly lit bar is bustling with people, all talking and laughing over the sound of the jukebox in the corner. This place is very different from my usual surroundings so it’s a little overwhelming, especially when a hand touches my arm and the strong scent of beer fills my senses. 

“Hey, there beautiful.” The voice is slurred and every muscle in my body tenses as my fight or flight kicks in as this random stranger leans on the bar in front of me. My cider arrives so I take a quick sip of it, feeling a mixture of fear and annoyance as I try to ignore him. He doesn’t take my silence as a hint, even when I pull my arm away from his touch, “Playing hard to get?” His tone is quickly becoming aggressive and I’m looking around for help but no one seems to be paying enough attention to us to see how uncomfortable I am. I’m feeling trapped, like a deer in headlights as he continues to make his unwanted advances, a sense of panic rising within me. 

“Please leave me alone,” I speak finally, meeting his gaze and instantly regretting it when I realise how close he is to me. He leans closer, his face a mere few inches from mine and his breath smells sour and I can’t help but scrunch my nose in disgust. 

The man seems undeterred by my request, in fact, he seems to take it as a challenge as he leans even closer, breath damp and gross against my neck as he whispers a pick-up line in my ear, making my skin crawl, "My couch pulls out but I don’t.” I’m taking a big step back, my back hitting a familiar chest, the smell of woodsy musk mixed with burnt coffee and something citrusy has me relaxing. 

I let out a breath I didn’t realise I was holding when Joe’s strong and muscular are wraps around my waist, pulling me closer to him. I feel so safe and protected, knowing that nothing can harm me with Joel around. His voice is low and dangerous as he speaks, breath ghosting my neck and leaving a trail of goosebumps over the skin. “She said to leave her alone.” 

“Shut up grandpa, she’s mine, I saw her first.” The guy sneers back, his sweaty hand gripping my wrist almost painfully. Joel’s grip tightens around my waist and I can feel the tension in his body as he speaks again, voice even lower and even more dangerous than before. 

“Let. Her. Go.” But, of course, the guy doesn’t listen and before I can even react the guy is on the floor, Joel standing above him with his chest heaving and hand still raised. The guy's grip on my hand is gone and I’m placing a gentle hand on Joel’s strong forearm making him turn his head  to see me, guilt filling those honey eyes as he lowers his fist, “Sorry sweet girl.” He’s turning around to face me properly, calloused hand moving to cup my jaw and thumb caressing my cheek softly, sending a flurry of butterflies through me. 

Joel is my dad’s best friend and seeing him so hot and with a light sheen of sweat across his skin has me leaning into his touch. He’s such a DILF and I can see my friend group watching us, giggling behind their hands and sharing glances as they look Joel up and down like he’s a slab of meat. I don’t blame them really as Joel is so fucking fine. 

He’s a ruggedly handsome man with dark and loose curls, warm honey eyes, and a strong jawline. There’s a thick, bushy beard that covers his entire jawline and chin. It's well-groomed and appears to be trimmed with a bit of length. The beard is dark brown, matching the hair on his head, and has a slightly rough texture to it, only adding to his rugged charm. His physique has featured in a lot of my late-night fantasies but who can blame me when I see him shirtless almost every day during summer? Being my dad’s best friend I get to see him almost every day and he and his younger brother and daughter are always having dinner with me and Dad. He’s muscular and chiselled except for his tummy that you can see ever so slightly against his teeshirt but it just adds to his appeal, taking some of the hard lines from him. His muscles ripple and flex when he moves and his thighs are thick, jeans hugging his body in such a way that leaves very little to the imagination. 

“Your friends are ogling sweetheart.” There’s a smirk on his lips, eyes crinkling slightly with amusement and suddenly I’m aware of how close he is to me, my mouth drying up as my eyes focus on the way he wets his bottom lip with his tongue, a small sound escaping me that he definitely hears as he’s moving closer. 

“Can you blame them?” I choke out, heats flushing a little, “You are really good-looking.” 

“You think I’m good looking hmmm?” He’s ducking his head, nose bumping mine as he leaves no space between us, his firm body pressing against mine and his other hand gripping my hip. I can feel my heart racing as his lips press against mine, stealing all the air from my lungs. His kiss is firm, yet gentle, and I can feel the warmth of his lips against mine, tasting the beer on them adding to my heightened senses. His hand on my hip leaves me feeling secure and wanted all at once, his other hand moving from my jaw to my hair. 

My friends are hollering in the background but their voices sound distant as I lose myself in the kiss. It feels like we’re the only two people in the room like time has slowed down for us. I’m acutely aware of every sensation - the way his lips move against mine, the feel of his stubble grazing my skin and the heat of his body against mine as he presses my back in the bar. It’s a long and slow kiss that leaves me feeling dizzy and breathless when he pulls away, desire in his eyes and something else. 

“Was that okay sweet girl?” His voice is low and gravelly, sending shivers down my spine as he speaks. His tone is both commanding and tender, conveying a sense of strength and vulnerability. It's a tone that exudes confidence and experience, yet also carries a hint of hesitation as if he's not quite sure how I will respond. As his hand moves from my hair back to my neck, his thumb rubbing my jaw, I can feel the roughness of his calloused skin against the softness of my skin. It's a touch that's both gentle and possessive, and it makes me feel like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.

I just nod, still trying to catch my breath, “Y-yeah, that was more than okay.” I manage to say, my voice a little shaky. I can feel my cheeks flush as I meet his gaze, eyes flickering over his handsome face and settling on his beard. It’s scruffy and unkempt but somehow still suits him perfectly. I’m reaching up and scratching my fingers through it lightly without thinking, feeling the coarse hair under my fingertips, “I like your beard.” I murmur, voice barely above a whisper.

He chuckles softly, a low rumble in his chest that I can feel against my own, “Yeah? I was thinking of shaving it off actually.” There’s amusement in his tone 

I’m shaking my head, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips, “No, don’t! I like it. It makes you look… rugged.” 

His smile morphs into a grin, eyes sparking with amusement, one eyebrow raised, “Rugged, huh? I’ll have to remember that.” I just hum in response, eyes flickering to the guy still passed out a few bar stools away and Joel follows my gaze, his hands tightening on my hips, “You want me to take you home sweet girl?” 

“Not home.” I shake my head, knowing my dad would never let me go out again if he finds out what happened, “Can I come to yours?”

Joel’s nodding, a small smirk on his lips, “Sure thing, baby doll.” He’s letting go of my hip to interlock our fingers and I’m being led back over to my friends who are staring in almost disbelief at me and Joel. Of course, Daisy has no filter being this drunk, jumping up and pulling me into an unsteady hug that rips my hand from Joel’s. She smells like alcohol and I feel back leaving her but she doesn’t seem to mind, whispering in my ear that I need to tell her everything about how the neighbourhood DILF is in bed. It has me spluttering a choked laugh as she pulls away, too drunk to know she’s not whispering but yelling. Then she’s pushing me towards Clemmie, Sadie, and Hazel who all hug me goodbye and whisper-shout variations of the same thing Daisy said before I’m moving back to Joel’s side and taking his hand again. 

“Neighbourhood DILF?” Joel’s asking once we get outside, the night air hitting me and making me shiver a little, “So, you gonna tell me what a DILF is sweet girl?”

“I’d rather not.” I’m choking out, blushing a little as he squeezes my hand, sending me a quizzical look as he tugs me lightly in the direction of his car. He unlocks the doors and opens the passenger side for me, gesturing for me to get in and I think my heart swells as he is ever the gentleman as I slide in, feeling somewhat self-conscious under his gaze. He’s studying me for a moment before closing the door and walking around the driver's side. He gets in the driver's side, starts the car, and pulls out of the parking lot, and I can’t help but feel a sense of nervousness and excitement. I kissed Joel, my dad’s best friend, and I’m going to be sleeping over at his. I’ve stayed at his plenty of times but this time feels a little different as Joel’s hand moves to settle on my thigh as he drives, an act that seems to be done subconsciously but has butterflies erupting in my stomach. 

I’m glancing down at his hand, feeling the head of his touch through the fabric of my jeans, and then back up at him, my heart pounding in my chest. I still can’t quite believe this is happening, that I’m in Joel’s car and that he’s touching me like this. It’s all so surreal but at the same time feels so damn right as we sit in comfortable silence for a while. The only sound is the hum of the engine and the occasional shift of gears and I’m acutely aware of Joel’s fingers flexing against my skin every so often, both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. 

Finally, we pull up to Joel’s house and he’s switching the engine off before turning to me in his seat, gaze intense, “So, what’s a DILF?” 

“No, nope, not-“ His large hand grips my wrist before I can move to open the car door, curiosity on his face as he sees the blush and shyness on mine, those enthralling eyes narrowing as he raises an eyebrow and I’m blurting it our, “Dad I’d Like to Fuck.” 

He lets out a spluttered sound before suddenly I’m being lifted over the seats and straight onto his lap, my legs settling on either side of his thick thighs as he grips my jaw in his large and calloused hands, asking in a low and husky tone, “Do you think I’m a DILF?” 

“Have done for quite a while now.” My hand slams over my mouth in surprise at how easily that slipped out and he’s grinning like the cat that got the cream, prying my hand from my mouth. He’s grinning as he pulls me closer to him, lips brushing mine teasingly before he kisses me properly. His lips move against mine, teasing and coaxing, before deepening the kiss. His other hand is on my lower back, slipping under my sweater to splay across my skin as he pulls me closer to him and his tongue slides into my mouth, exploring and tasting every inch. The car is filled with the sounds of kissing and heavy breaths as he leaves me breathless. 

He’s pulling away with a smirk, “Let’s not rush this sweet girl,” I can feel the heat rising as I nod, trying to catch my breath as my fingers play with the soft tufts of hair at the nape of his neck. My eyes fall back to his lips, wetting my own with my tongue as I know that now I’ve had a taste I’m not gonna be able to not kiss him and he notices, a light rumble of a laugh in his chest as he breathes out, “One more kiss.” Before he’s tangling a hand in my hair and pulling me into an almost bruising kiss. It’s intense and passionate, with Joel's tongue expertly exploring every inch of my mouth while his hand remains tangled in my hair, pulling me closer to him. I can feel the heat between us, our bodies pressed tightly together, and my hands roaming over his muscular shoulders and chest. It's a moment of pure desire, and I feel myself getting lost in the sensation of his touch. 

When we finally break apart, gasping for breath, Joel opens the driver's door and helps me off his lap and out of the car before following suit. His hand finds the back pocket of my jeans as he locks his car behind us and leads me to his front door, unlocking it and leading me inside. As soon as we step inside, Joel kicks off his shoes and I do the same before he’s pulling me into another kiss. This time, it’s slower and more tender, and I can feel myself melting into his embrace. His hands sliding down my back and settling on my hips, pulling me closer to him as our tongues dance together in a passionate tango.

 A soft sound leaves my throat when he breaks the kiss, looking at me with such an intensity that I feel my knees go weak, ‘God, you’re so beautiful. What would your daddy think if he found out you were here with me like this?” He murmurs, voice low and husky. My cheeks flush at the thought of it all and he’s leading me to the living room where he settles on the couch and suddenly I’m in his lap again, “Can’t get enough of you, sweet girl,” His forehead rests against mine and his eyes slip shut as if he’s fighting something, “This is so wrong, you’re best friends little girl-“ 

“I’m twenty-four.” I protest but he runs his thumb over my bottom lip, silencing me, and my breath hitches. 

“And I’m thirty-eight, ” He moves his mouth to my neck, body betraying his mind, “That’s fourteen years doll.” 

“Joel,” I grab his face and make him look at me, feeling the coarse hair of his beard under my palms and make sure his honey eyes are on mine before I speak, his hand still gripping my jaw and thumb close to my lip, “I am a grown adult who can make my own decisions and I have like your for forever.” 

Joel’s expression softens at my words and he leans in to place a soft kiss on my lips, free arm moving to wrap around my waist, “I know sweet girl,” He murmurs, “But I can’t help but feel like I’m taking advantage of you.” 

I’m shaking my head, caressing his cheek and he leans into the touch, “You’re not,” I reassure him, “I want this too, Joel. I want you.” He smiles at me, his eyes alight with something I can’t quite decipher, before he’s leaning in to capture my lips in another soft kiss. The lust and desire fading into something sweeter and more caring. It’s tender and slow, his lips moving gently against mine. His hand still cradles my jaw and I can feel the rough pad of his thumb brushing over my cheek. It’s a kiss that speaks of deeper feelings and emotions, a connection between two people who have known each other for a long time. The heat and passion of earlier are replaced with a softer, more intimate feeling and I can feel myself melting into him as we kiss. 

Joel’s pulling away from the embrace, “Come on, it’s late.” His voice is soft as he stands, letting me slip to my feet and he’s capturing my hand in his before he’s tugging me towards the stairs. As we walk, I can feel my heart racing with anticipation and nervousness, not sure of what’s gonna happen next when he hit the landing. He’s turning to me, “The spare room is made up for you…” His voice trails off when h feels how tightly I’m gripping his hand and how hesitant I am to let go of him, “Alright, you can stay with me, sweet girl. Anything you’re comfortable with.” 

Relieved, I’m nodding and follow Joel to his room, feeling a rush of excitement at the thought of sleeping in the same bed as him. He’s gesturing for me to sit on the edge of his bed as he rummages through his drawers, searching for something before coming back over with a teeshirt for me. He silently moves back to the other side of the room to strip down to his boxers and he keeps his back to me while I shimmy off my jeans, sweater, and bra before pulling on the shirt he gave me. It smells of him: burnt coffee mixed with his woodsy cologne and something citrusy like oranges and it’s intoxicating. 

Joel’s crawling into bed, the mattress dipping under his weight as he reaches over to wrap those strong arms around me and yank me onto the sofa mattress beside him with a shriek of surprise. The heat from his bare skin seeps through the fabric of his shirt and his chest hair tickles my cheek as he nuzzles his nose into the crook of my neck. I can feel the tension in his body as he pulls me closer, almost as if he’s holding on for dear life and I just snuggle closer to him despite the worry building up in my chest that he’ll wake up with the regret of all this. I’m turning my head to look at him, but his eyes are closed and his breathing is even as if he's already fallen asleep. I chew on my lip, trying to calm my racing thoughts and assure myself that everything will be okay. After a few minutes of laying in silence, I finally allow myself to relax and fall asleep in his warm embrace as I will face tomorrow when tomorrow arrives, for now, I can just let myself have this moment.

----------------

Part Two ⇢ A Moment of Clarity

The Last of Us Masterlist

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[violet-shadows]

Scary Stories

Masterlist

Summary: On a camping trip with the Inner Circle, a spooky tale has you leaning on Azriel for comfort. 

Pairing: Azriel x Reader (She/Her)

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: none

A/N:  Thank you to the anon that requested this!

 ⊱ —————— ❈  —————— ⊰

The Harvest camping trip had become something of a tradition for the Inner Circle, serving as a final hurrah before the harsh winter chill swept the Night Court. This was your third year attending with your mate and you were looking forward to the trip. There was something magical about snuggling next to Azriel by the fire and retiring to the quiet of your tent, huddled together for warmth under an endless sea of stars. Campfires, marshmallows, and ghost stories were the perfect reprieve from the stresses of daily life and you couldn’t wait to spend a few days in the wilderness with your family. 

“Why are you bringing so many blankets?” You asked Azriel as you both buzzed about your bedroom, packing your bags for the trip. He was shoving yet another wool blanket in the trunk containing your camping gear and it had you curious, seeing as the shadowsinger was more than used to the cold. 

“Do you not remember how cold you were last year?” He said, his tone playful. You thought back to the previous year’s trip when the unseasonable warmth in Velaris lulled you into underpacking on warm clothing. Azriel had fretted the entire time, disturbed by your constant shivering despite his best efforts to keep you warm. He had insisted that you wear his coat, but the draft let in by the wing holes made it largely ineffective. In the end, you spent the trip tucked into his side, one wing wrapped around your shoulder while you nursed mugs of warm cider. Those memories were some of your fondest.

“I’m dressing warmer this time, I promise,” you assured him, tugging at your chunky knit sweater for emphasis. He peered over at your bag suspiciously and nodded, but did not remove the additional blankets. 

“Amren said she prepared a story for us this year,” he mentioned. “You ready for that?”

“I just hope it’s better than Cassian’s,” you replied. From down the hall, you faintly heard the General give an indignant shout. “Sorry, Cass!”, you called out. Both you and Azriel chuckled, recalling Cassian’s “scary” stories which ended up more comical than thrilling, but fun nonetheless. 

“I think her’s will involve significantly less laughter,” said Azriel, “so brace yourself.” 

“I’m counting on it,” you said, glaring when he gave you an incredulous look. “Oh c’mon, they’re just fun, scary stories.” 

“Fun!” Cassian commented with a laugh as he passed by your open bedroom door, bags in hand. He didn’t stop to elaborate, so Azriel filled you in.

“Last time Amren told the stories Mor winnowed right back to Velaris and Rhys stayed up the entire night,” he explained. “Are you sure you won’t be scared?”

“Sounds like you’re the one that’s scared, Shadowsinger,” you teased and Azriel grinned at you.

“We’ll see about that, love.” 

⊱ —————— ❈ —————— ⊰

The flight to the campsite offered a beautiful view of the Night Court landscape. The hills were lit up in hues of red and gold as summer gave way to autumn, and the crisp fall air was sweet in your lungs. The campsite sat at the base of the mountains near a small stream, far from any other settlements. Thanks to Rhysand’s magic, camp was set up swiftly and you were soon gathering around the fire for dinner and stories. 

Mor started it out with a tale about a Bogge that stalked a maiden for all of her days, constantly lingering in her peripheral no matter where she went. A hush fell over the group as Mor narrated under a rapidly darkening sky, and when she finished, gooseflesh had broken out over your skin. You shared a look with Azriel, who wore a knowing smirk. “Are you scared yet?” he teased and you elbowed him in the ribs. The story was unsettling, but with Azriel at your side it was hard to find anything frightening. 

“I seem to recall you having nightmares about the Bogge when we were young,” said Rhysand, returning to the group with more spiked cider. Azriel’s cheeks reddened slightly and you giggled. 

“And should I bring up your first encounter with a Martax?” Azriel shot back, earning a laugh from the entire group. Another round of drinks was passed around as darkness fell, and soon the only light remaining was the warm glow of the fire. Azriel pulled you close, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and extending his wing to shelter you. You sighed in contentment, leaning into his touch. 

“Amren’s turn,” Feyre announced, prompting the immortal. Amren’s stories were known to be terrifying and you were all eager, if somewhat nervous, to hear her tale. 

She began to speak, her steady, dispationate intonation adding the ominous atmosphere. The story she told was long an winding, but enraptured you nonetheless. Soon, you found yourself on the edge of your seat, leaning forward as you listened intently. She spoke of a creature more powerful and frightening than any in Prythian, one so horrifying, she said, that Bryaxis looked like a kitten in comparison. The details came to life in your mind’s eye, and as the story went on, you felt your heartbeat quicken. Enthralled by Amren’s words, no one but Azriel noticed when one member of the group slipped away into the shadows. Just as she reached the climax, revealing a bone chilling twist, a great roar sounded from the trees behind you. 

You screamed, jumping to your feet at the sound, along with most of the other guests. For a brief moment, you were frozen in terror until you heard a familiar, booming laugh. “Cassian,” Nesta shreiked indignantly, glowering at her mate. He continued to gafaw and soon, the rest of you were cackling as well. 

“You knew,” you said, swatting at an amused Azriel. He shrugged, a rare, easy smile on his face, and you didn’t have it in you to be mad. 

“I thought you said you weren’t scared, Y/N,” Cassian teased, reclaiming his spot by the fire. “You could have heard your scream in Velaris.”

“I was just… startled,” you lied, chuckling as you settled back in your seat. Amren finished the story, it’s conclusion both eerie and shocking, and your mind remained fixed on it, even while the others followed up with their own stories. The shadows cast by the firelight continued to catch your eye throughout the night, and an uneasy feeling rose within you whenever you glanced towards the dark forest. 

You tried to hide how unsettled you were as you bid your family goodnight, walking into the woods towards yours and Azriel’s campsite. The forest seemed unusually alive and each snap of a twig or sway of a branch made you jump. Without the light of the fire and your family’s warm presence, the fear from before was no longer fun, morphing into an uncomfortable feeling in your gut. 

Azriel, ever observant, wrapped an arm around your waist. “Are you alright, love?” he asked, sounding equal parts concerned and entertained. You nodded, swallowing thickly as you cast yet another glance over your shoulder, and Azriel chuckled.

“Don’t laugh at me,” you grumbled, wrapping your arms around yourself as Azriel moved to open the tent flap. A gust of wind whistled through the trees just then and you jumped, drawing a strangled gasp. Suddenly, sleeping in the dark forest did not sound like fun. 

“Alright, come inside where it’s safe, love,” Azriel teased, beckoning you into your tent. While your mate would be able to sleep on nothing more than bare ground, he had taken care to make the shelter as comfortable as possible for your sake. You shed your outer layers, and the two of you slipped beneath several warm blankets on top of a plush mat. Outside, the wind picked up, and you shuttered, remembering the way Amren had described the creature’s voice, it’s hateful whispers carried on the breeze. “What’s wrong?” Azriel asked, no longer poking fun. He looked down at you, eyebrows furrowed in concern, and you wrapped your arms around him, inhaling his comforting scent.

“I may or may not be a bit… unsettled by Amren’s story,” You admitted, feeling your cheeks flush. A twig snapped outside and you held your mate tighter. 

“You’re scared,” Azriel surmised, his quiet voice like velvet. 

“Yes,” you said, closing your eyes. He wrapped both arms around you, tugging you even closer until you were nearly on top of him. 

“You know I would never, ever let anything happen to you, right?” He asked, sounding earnest. His shadows, barely visible in the darkness, settle overtop of you both like a protective cocoon. 

“I know.” And you did know. If there was one thing Azriel had proven to you time and time again, it was that you were safe with him, always. “The creature from the story was just…” 

“Horrifying? Ghastly? Dreadful?” Azriel suggested and you chuckled, nodding your head in agreement. “Even if it were real, I wouldn’t let it get to you.” 

“You’d fight it?” You asked, skeptical. The monster Amren had described was not one any warrior want to take on. 

“If keeping you safe was my motivation,” he shrugged, running a comforting hand up and down your spine, “I’d fight the whole world.”

“Even a Bogge?” you teased and Azriel groaned, trying to hide the smile on his lips.

“I’m gonna kill Rhys for telling that story.” 

⊱ —————— ❈ —————— ⊰

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[dameronscopilot]

Taking Flight

Poe Dameron x f!reader

Summary: In which you and the handsome aviation technician that strolls into your coffee shop most mornings finally get the nudge you both need with the help of an aptly placed sprig of mistletoe.

Word Count: 1.5k

Content: modern au, fluff, first kiss

Prompt: Mistletoe + dialogue prompt

DECK THE HALLS MASTERLIST

The lively, pleasant chords of holiday music trickle throughout the café, the interior of which is currently lit by the soft glow of brightly colored lights strung up amongst an array of seasonal décor. Groups of people mill about, talking animatedly over hot drinks and browsing the selection of books for sale on the shelves set along the back wall. You smile to yourself as you wipe a spot of powdered sugar off of the countertop before leaning against it.

You’d spent the past week handing out flyers to customers, inviting them to drop by the shop for an evening of free hot cider and half-off pastries. In turn, you’ll be donating a portion of all proceeds from book sales during the event to a local animal shelter. Though you initially wondered if you’d doomed the turnout by scheduling the event just days before Christmas, the store is thankfully teeming with regular and new customers alike, though one familiar face is nowhere to be found.

At the feeling of something brushing up against your leg, you bend down to scratch the ears of the large orange cat at your feet. 

“I don’t think he’s coming, Bee,” you sigh, and the feline offers up an unimpressed noise in response as she stalks off, likely to wage war with the tinsel hanging in the front window display again. 

He, being Poe Dameron. A man with a smile as devastatingly warm as his laugh. While you’ll never outright admit to picking a favorite customer, he holds the title by a landslide

Several early mornings on any given week will find Poe striding into the shop with a grin that you like to imagine is reserved just for you, boots scuffing against the floor as he makes his way over to the register. Donning the leather jacket that you hardly ever see him without and a pair of sunglasses slung over the silver chain around his neck, the aviation technician will run a hand through his dark curls before pulling out his wallet. You’ll normally already have his coffee ready by the time he’s begun twisting his credit card between his fingers, if only because you’re not confident in your ability to actually pour the hot liquid successfully while he makes casual small talk with you from the other side of the counter.

When Poe arrives, Bee usually makes an attempt to steal his attention, butting up against his ankles, tail curling around his leg while he asks how business is, remarks on the weather, and talks to you about the planes he’s working on that week. Meanwhile, when you gesture toward the day’s assortment of pastries, he’ll shrug good-naturedly as he tells you to pick out whatever you think he’ll like. As if the question doesn't send you into an absolute spiral each and every time.

After months upon months of these interactions, you’re certain he’s just naturally this friendly with everyone, but you can’t help the way you fall a little bit more in love with the man each and every time the tinkling of the bell above the shop door is accompanied by the familiar scent of engine oil— something you’ve fondly come to associate with him.

Thinking too hard about the way his nose scrunches and his eyes crinkle when he smiles sends a tide of longing unfurling in your chest, one that’s becoming more and more difficult to contain. 

When you finally worked up the nerve to invite Poe just moments after he’d turned to leave one morning with his coffee in hand, you’d called out for him, brandishing one of the small flyers for the event. He'd looked pleased as he scanned the paper and told you he'd do his best to drop by.

“Can’t wait!”—you were still banging your head against a figurative wall for what you’d chirped back in response, the eagerness that your tone had been brimming with, your complete and total unawareness in the moment of the fact that he was likely just being nice. The insinuation that you'd be leaning against the register all evening, gazing at the door waiting for him to waltz in.

You’re so lost in your own thoughts that you jump at the sound of a voice beside you—

“Hey. Decent turnout.”

Warmth blooms in your chest as you turn your head to find Poe standing there, arms crossed as he surveys the bustle of people filling out most of the tables and chairs throughout the room. Snowflakes still linger in his hair, and the tip of his nose is red from the cold. 

“You came,” you remark dumbly, unable to hide the surprise in your voice.

Poe unfolds his arms, and you spy a flash of something wrapped in gold paper clutched in his left hand as he lets them fall to his sides. “Of course I did. I couldn’t say no to the hot cider,” he winks.

You snort as you make your way behind the counter to pour him a cup. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you order something that doesn’t have caffeine in it.”

“Coffee is just for the morning so I’m awake enough to make sure those planes get up in the air in one piece,” he chuckles.

“If that’s the case, you’ll have to stop in after work once in a while then. I’ve been told I make a mean peppermint hot chocolate.”

“A woman after my own heart.”

Your face heats up at his words, and you fiddle with your apron in an attempt to find anything to do to busy your fingers, the ones that ache to reach out and see just how soft his curls really are. Before you can mull too hard over how many seconds of silence have passed between the two of you as you attempt to come up with a witty response, something gold flashes in front of you. You turn your focus to Poe’s outstretched hands, which are holding a thin, rectangular package. 

“For me?”

He places it in your own hands and nods.

“But I didn’t get you anything,” you argue, mind racing as you wonder what could possibly be waiting for you underneath the wrapping paper.

“Just open it,” he patiently encourages you, voice laced with a hint of amusement.

You carefully peel open the gift and find a small, worn, leather-bound book, eyes quickly spotting where 'Dameron' is written across the front of it in the bottom right corner. Raising an eyebrow, you shoot a confused look in Poe’s direction, but he simply tips his chin at you, urging you to look inside.

As your fingers untie the thin leather straps wrapped around the book, Poe’s shoulder brushes against yours when he comes to stand closer to you. It’s a journal. The lined, off-white pages are full of ink, and it takes you a few moments of flipping through them to realize that it’s more than that—it's a handwritten glossary of aviation terms and other related notes. 

Poe clears his throat. “That’s the journal I used when I started studying to get my pilot’s license.”

There’s a fluttering caress of emotion that sends your insides careening at the admission as you carefully run a finger over one of the pages, eyes scanning the notes left in the margins and the hastily drawn diagrams. Early on, Poe had explained to you that although he works on planes for a living, he also flies in his free time as a hobby. 

He continues, scratching the back of his head, “I hope it’s not too, uh, presumptuous of me. But you always seem so interested in the planes I work on, I thought maybe I could take you out for a ride sometime.” Tapping a finger against the page the book is opened to, he adds, “And I know how much you like researching things, so I figured you might want to study a little first or something.”

You’re at a loss for words, heart fit to burst out of your chest at the gesture, at the hopeful look on his face, at the fact that perhaps he might look forward to seeing you every morning just as much as you look forward to seeing him.

When you don’t say anything back, Poe hastily adds, “You don’t have to say ye—”

“I’d love to, Poe.”

The lines of worry creeping across his face quickly smooth out as he flashes his teeth in a smile that leaves your knees weak, eyes shining. And as if you weren’t already caught off guard, he leans in, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek.

Your lips fall open slightly, and he looks slightly sheepish as he points above you. “Mistletoe.”

Fuelled by the hope that you’re not reading into all of this terribly wrong, you finally offer Poe Dameron a smooth response of your own for once. “If you wanted to kiss me you could have just said so. You didn’t need to wait until we were under the mistletoe.”

Poe turns to you fully, carefully taking the book from your hands and placing it on the counter. There’s determination and resolve in his gaze as his eyes meet yours, and he tilts his head to the side, the corner of his mouth quirking upward.

“In that case…” he murmurs.

Poe cups your face in his hands, the cool press of his palms a balm against your hot skin, and your eyes flutter shut as you lean into his touch. And when he slots his mouth against yours, kissing you gently with lips that taste of apples and spices, a soft sound escapes you as you press in closer.

—

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[breannasfluff]

By the Heat of the Fire

There’s something decadent about staying inside on a rainy fall day with a fire. Legend arches his wings and rolls closer. Ravio gives a disgruntled whistle when a wing flops over his face.

Legend ignores him and opens one eye to look at the fireplace. “Need another log.”

“Then put one in.” Ravio pulls his wing over his face.

“I put in the last one.”

“Lazy.”

“You calling me lazy?”

One eye glares back at the vet. “Yes. L-A-Z-Y.”

Legend moans and rolls, whacking his flockmate with his primaries, but pulls himself off the floor and adds some more logs to the fire. He makes it a grand total of three steps—just far enough to not set feathers on fire—before collapsing.

Fortunately for him, it’s on top of Ravio. Unfortunately for the merchant…it’s on top of Ravio. He squawks and thrashes slightly until Legend shifts and unpins a wing.

“Soft feathers,” he mutters and rubs his face against one. They gleam in the dim light; both of them preened to perfection and then some.

Ravio snorts but stops struggling. “Flattery isn’t going to win you any points, Mr. Hero.”

“Does it win me a napping spot?”

“No.”

“What if I preen your wings first.”

“No.”

“With oil?”

“…no.”

Legend pulls out his ace. “What about a shoulder rub?”

Ravio puffs, feathers fluffing, and the vet’s grin edges on feral. The satin bowerbird can’t see him, face down on the floor, so it doesn’t matter.

“Fiiiiine.” Ravio pulls the word out like taffy, but it’s got an underlying warble that says he would very much like a massage.

Legend pulls himself off Ravio’s wing fully to grab one of the nearby lotion pots. Then he steps carefully over the merchant’s back as he raises his wings. It takes some careful nudging of his knees to sit and tuck them under feathers so he doesn’t pinch one on accident.

Really good back massages—the ones that can reach the flight muscles in the back—are hard to do when the recipient is sitting on a stool. Lying down with someone else on top of you? That’s reserved for flock.

The lotion warms quickly in his palms and he unsnaps the back of Ravio’s shirt before he stains it with oil. The first pass of his fingers is to spread lotion and feel for knots, but the bowerbird goes limp anyway.

“You better be trading me when I’m done,” he says, poking the base of one wing to make it twitch.

Ravio mumbles something into the rug that the vet takes as a yes.

His back isn’t too bad; they haven’t been flying much with all the rain. Still, it helps to massage the muscles and keep them loose during periods of inactivity. When Legend hits a knot, the merchant gives a sharp little whistle. He stops to focus on the spot until the tension eases.

By the time he’s done, the satin bowerbird is fully limp and purring. Legend wipes his hands on his arms and does up the shirt snaps. Then, with a devious smile, he sinks his feathers into the scapular feathers at the base of Ravio’s wings until they touch skin.

Ravio shrieks, wings going straight up and flaring out. The vat laughs so hard he nearly falls as he climbs off.

“You—! Don’t do that, Link! That’s so—so—just don’t!” The bowerbird dissolves into wordless shrieks and scolding, popping off the floor.

Legend gives him a particularly smug look. “Had to make sure you didn’t fall asleep before my massage.”

He gets a face full of feathers, but it’s worth it.

Ravio brings in mugs of cold cider before he switches Legend, so the merchant can’t be too mad. The vets commandeered the prime spot on the rug; just far enough from fire not to roast, but close enough to relax in the heat.

The satin bowerbird gives a little whistle before starting on a leg. While Legend enjoys a back massage as much as any avian, his scars appreciate the attention in the rainy weather. The heat of the fire loosened him enough that he could enjoy the massage with only the occasional wince.

“What do you think the others are doing?” He obligingly moves a wing so the merchant can run the heel of his hand along a scar across his lower back.

“Hmm.” Another long pull of the muscle. “Wild and Hyrule have replaced me with Four, who will put up with the attention for a short period of time, at least. Four is off harassing some poor employee he’s yet to talk an ear off of. Wind…is probably taking a flight to stretch his wings and rubbing in to Sky how waterproof he is. Sky’s napping, or playing with the new litter of puppies with Twilight.”

“Wing,” Ravio says, and taps on his shoulder to get him to shift. There’s a scar on the muscle under his marginal feathers that benefits from some attention. The merchant is very careful to avoid the scapulars—typical.

“Who else…” Legend chirps softly as Ravio hits some tightness, then continues. “Wars is lurking on the edges trying to pretend he doesn’t want to be involved without actually being involved. And Time’s lounging on the couch, trying to tempt Warriors to join him.”

“And you’re here. With me.”

“With you,” he agrees easily.

Ravio moves on to his shoulders and oh—that does feel divine. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather have stayed with them at the inn?”

“And miss out on seeing you? No way. I’m stuck with those featherheads too much already.” The insult holds not heat; Legend is too fond of his flock to do otherwise.

Still, it’s nice to have some quiet time with Ravio. The merchant is flock, too, and was flock first. Having the big flock stay at his house is always a loud, rambunctious time with little privacy. Alone, there’s no one to tease him about being soft.

And if it means he gets to watch Ravio flash his secondaries? Well, that’s just a bonus.

#flufftober2023 #fireplace #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu flufftober #breannasfluff #mywriting #lu wing bois #lu wing au #lu legend #lu ravio #ravioli #kinda #ravio #ravio x link #ravioli ship

[shoshiwrites]

hospital bed + Jo/Egan >:))))

Continuing my BoB OC Jo's MotA wanderings! From this prompt list. Bucky Egan/WarCo OC. Warnings for non-graphic medical references & non-graphic abuse.

She studies him, the glint of the low light and the drink in his hand, tapping her fingers along the tall glass of cider in hers. “I was…eleven. Got my appendix out.” 

He winces a little, but he’s still smiling. “Sounds like a swell time.”

“Just about.” 

She’s still thinking of the triage section this morning, the light through the thin curtains, the sound of squeaking wheels across the floor. The overwhelming smell of antiseptic underlaid by vomit. 

Silent, watching the doctor move from bed to bed, the stretchers being carried in by boys still in flight gear. The nurses tolerated her as long as she didn’t get in the way, and she didn’t, or tried not to. The last boy she’d seen before she walked back outside was a frostbite injury, so bad that they had to move him to a hospital. It’s warm and humid here, on the ground. Her blouse feels tacky between her shoulders, and at her sides.

And this is something he just does. Major Egan. All of them. Leave in the dark of the morning, and then you’re back here in a pub by late afternoon. Go up so high that if the Germans don’t kill you, taking off a pair of gloves or an oxygen mask will. 

“And how was that?”

She blinks at him. “Getting my appendix out?” 

“Yeah! Still got mine.”

He’d only been telling a story about a high school sports injury, after she’d tried not to look too hard at the new bruise blooming on the apple of his cheek. Someone had gotten mouthy, she wasn’t sure who. He looked like he didn’t want her to ask. 

“All I remember, really, is that it hurt a lot less after, you know? Than it did before.” 

He nods.

“My mother came, and she sat with me, and brought me little sweets, cookies, probably. Leftover spice cookies, from Christmas. I wasn’t in too long.”

“What’s your father do, again?”

“Uh, steelworker,” she says. “Was. In Pittsburgh. He came by, too, right after—”

She doesn’t mean to say that part, to tell a real thing about him. It seems like she’s remembering it wrong, hearing her father tell her she was brave. But she tells John that, like it’s easy to say, by a little light in the corner booth of a pub on the coast of a windswept country. 

And she tells him too about the day she went home, the memory that was more like her father. He’d showed up smelling like plum brandy and berated the nurse, and then her mother. 

He quirks his mouth a little, for a moment, like he wishes he could throw a few more punches. If anyone could fight a spirit, she’d say it was John Egan. 

“And now you’re here,” he says. Like it’s something that makes sense, from a little girl in a hospital bed to a correspondent sitting here, across from him, writing about a blinding freezing blue she’s never seen. Like a kid playing touch football in the mud, going to school with his arm in a sling he hates, to this. Up there, the indescribable sky.

She nods. “And now I’m here.”

A pint glass slides onto the table, and Biddick sidles up, his voice warmed by the beer. “Hey, Major.” He nods at Jo. “Miss Brandt.” The honorific sounds like zz's, in his accent. 

“Hey, now,” Bucky says, smiling. “This lady here’s a captain.”

Jo tries not to make a face. “In name only.” 

“Hey, they oughta know that, right?” Curt says. He jerks his chin towards his friend’s face. “That’ll teach ‘em, right, Buck? To say things about—”

The look Bucky shoots him tells Jo exactly what the fight was about. If they’re calling it that. Something to remind her she shouldn’t be sitting here alone. 

“What? I’m just saying—”

“Can it, Curt. That’s an order.” He doesn’t quite sound like he means it.

“Gentlemen, it’s been a pleasure. But I think I ought to make this one an early night.”

“Let me walk you out.” 

The sky is still streaked with faded red and peach, still time to get back to her rented room before worrying about the dark. His fingers brush her arm, on the way to the door, but he doesn’t say anything more.

#latibvles #masters of the air oc #mota oc #bucky egan x oc #me realizing they're having a candlelight conversation about an appendectomy #normal things #motaverse #jo's tag #shoshi writes #'mota oc' jo: i am ???? #hi curt miss you curt:'(

[cwritesforfun]

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Fem!Reader: Hurt

You trained with Bob a few years prior & met Phoenix before going to Top Gun. You were one of the top weapon systems officers. You had lost your dad to a flight gone wrong 5 years ago and never have been the same. You coped with running & your call sign is “Bolt” because you’re fast. Y/N = Your Name *** I do not own Top Gun characters or plots - some of it will change!

Y/N’s POV

Tonight is a Saturday night and we have it off. We’re going to a bar called the Hard Deck owned by Penny who used to know my dad and has been flirting with my boss, Maverick. I hung out with her daughter, Amelia, when she was tiny so she could hang out with my mom. Penny is one of the kindest people I know. 

As soon as we make it there, everyone orders their beers first. I wait for a little so that I can hug Penny. I hug her and she hands me a cider.

I head back over to the boys and Phoenix exclaims “I call Bolt on my team!” I ask “What are we playing?” She answers “Darts against Fanboy and Hangman! Wait... you’re still really good right?” I answer “Uh... sure.” She smiles. Bradley plops into the seat next to us to watch and cheer our team on. I always appreciate his positivity and kindness no matter what. He’s there for everyone and I think everyone likes that about him. We actually have similar backgrounds because we both lost our dads in a flight gone wrong and we grew up in this area. No one wants to talk about the loss though. Everyone tiptoes around the subject. It sometimes can hurt when all you want to do is talk about your loved one and all those feelings. I’ve talked with Bradley once or twice about it, but I can tell it puts him in a very negative headspace so I avoid the subject. 

I turn back to the game and finish playing darts. I will admit that I was a little nervous going into it because I’ve heard Hangman is the best. He loses his winning streak to us by 2 points causing Phoenix to start gloating. Hangman then sulks in a corner causing everyone to laugh. Bradley thinks the game is rigged, so he calls for a 1v1 match against me. I throw a perfect bullseye on my first dart.

Bradley tosses his first dart and exclaims “Well sh**! I didn’t know you were that good. How do you know how to play so well?” I throw another dart and answer “I would come here growing up with my dad. He taught me.” He replies “That’s cool. I wonder if we ever hung out together here growing up because I came here too.” I hear “Less chit-chat! Play the game!” Bradley turns, flips them off, then throws his dart.

After the game that I win by 1 point, I get a celebratory new drink. I sit at the bar and am talking to Penny when I feel an arm around my shoulder. I shrug it off and see a clearly drunk older man.  I move away and Penny says “Sir, please leave the premises or you’re paying a round of drinks for everyone here.”

Bradley/Rooster's POV

Y/N just beat me by one point in darts. I’ve always liked her but seeing her so focused was sexy. Sometimes I consider flying in a double just so I can request to fly with her. Maverick would say yes because he’s practically been begging me to since we started training at Top Gun. One thing that scares me about Y/N is that we have grief that we have both felt, but she’s used hers to fuel her drive for flying. I blame all my drinking and anger on the grief. I just am intimidated by her and how together she is.

Y/N went to get drinks a few minutes ago. Where is she?

I start walking around the Hard Deck and I watch as a drunk older man puts his arm around her. She shoves him off and moves away. I watch Penny exchange words with him and see the frightened look in Y/N’s eyes. I quickly start moving towards her past all of the people crowding the bar area.

I make it to Y/N after I see her get shoved onto the ground. I rush over to her and I gently place my hands on her to help her start to sit up.

I hear “She is a waste of the uniform! Her father would be sickened that they let this happen!” I yell back “She’s actually one of the top weapon officers in our program! Her father would be proud of her and all her successes!” I notice Maverick and a few other men move to push this man out of the room. I would’ve punched him if he hadn’t been removed from the room or if I wasn’t holding Y/N up. She doesn’t deserve those nasty words.

I turn back to Y/N and ask “Y/N! Hey... are you okay? I mean, of course, you’re not, but what hurts?” She answers “My head hurts a little, but I covered it when I fell. I don’t think I hit it. My back also hurts and my side hurts too. I’ll be okay.” That doesn’t sound like okay to me.  I reply “Ok um... I’m going to help you sit up and then I’ll get you some ice.” She nods and I gently help her sit. I ask “How are you feeling now?” She answers “It feels better to be sitting. I might move to a booth, so I’m out of the way.” I reply “You’re never in the way to me.” She slightly smiles and says “Thanks, but we are in a bar and I don’t want anyone to trip on me.” I reply “Screw them.” She lets out a laugh causing me to smile.

I help her stand and sit on a stool. Penny hands a bag of ice to Y/N who holds it to her head.

I ask “Hey Penny, did we ever meet when we were younger?” Penny shakes her head and answers “No, actually you two never met. You may have met somewhere else, but your dads never brought you both here on the same day. They always planned to have you two meet, but they would get drunk and forget.” I laugh and say “Cool. Yeah, we were wondering that.” Penny says “You two have a lot more in common than you might think. You’re both strong successful proud children of pilots who died too early and too young. I’ve always wanted to introduce you two to each other.” I smile.

Penny goes off to help someone else.

I turn to Y/N who says “You can go enjoy the rest of your night if you want to. I’m fine to sit here. Penny is here. I’m okay.” I ask “Are you trying to get rid of me?” She laughs and answers “No, I enjoy the company, but the girl on the other side of the bar has been watching you for an hour. I thought you might like spending your night off with her instead.” I ask “Is that what you think I would like to do with my night off?” She shrugs and says “I don’t know. I just thought I would toss that idea out to you. I wanted to give you a way out.” I lean forward and kiss Y/N on the forehead. I move back away from her and exclaim “I want you to be okay. I don’t want any older men to get any ideas...Is that girl still watching?” She answers “No.” I reply “Good... I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. I want to be with you and only you.” Little does she know I mean that in a romantic relationship type of way. Y/N smiles and we continue talking for a while.

We leave with the rest of the group who was oblivious to Y/N getting hurt. They said they all heard the crash and didn’t think it was someone they knew. They played darts and took more shots, which I can tell.

Y/N’s POV

We arrive back at base and everyone starts walking in together. I walk slowly with Bradley back to where our rooms are. 

I see Maverick and he runs up to us. Maverick exclaims “Hey. The on-call nurse is awake and I think you should definitely get a once over to make sure you’re okay. I told them what happened tonight and it shouldn’t take that long.” I nod and reply “Thanks. I’ll head over there right now.”

I walk off as Maverick pulls Bradley to the side.

Bradley/Rooster’s POV

I ask “What is it, Maverick? I don’t think she should be alone right now.” Maverick answers “I just wanted to ask what was going on between you and Y/N. I care about you, Rooster, and I care about Y/N because you’re both children of some of my dear friends. She hasn’t talked about what happened tonight, has she?” I answer “No she hasn’t talked about it to me. Why?” He answers “The words that man used, from what Penny said, and seeing how defeated Y/N looks means something. Try to make her smile or let her know you’re there for her. I worry about her sometimes.” I reply “She’s one of the strongest people I know. I’ll talk to her tonight. Do you think she’ll be okay? Did Penny see how hard the man hit her?” He answers “Yeah he full-on shoved her to the ground and because it happened fast, Y/N didn’t have time to defend herself.” I nod and reply “Okay… I’m gonna try to catch up with her then. She’s with the nurse, right?” He nods. I shake his hand and then run off.

I make it to the nurse’s office and see the light still on in the room. I lean against the door and hear Y/N’s muffled voice. I then move away from the door and sit against the wall.

Y/N’s POV

I leave the nurse’s office and see Bradley sitting across the hall on the floor. I ask “Were you waiting for me?”  Ugh, how vain of me to think of only myself. He could be here for himself or for the nurse. He answers ���Yeah. I wanted to walk you back to your room.” I answer “Thanks. That’s really sweet.”

Bradley stands up and we start walking to my room. He asks “So … what did the nurse say?” I answer “I’ll have slight bruising on my hip and arm. I’ll be fine. She said my body is going to be still in shock from the fall, so to take it easy. That means I can’t go on my morning run tomorrow, which sucks.” He replies “I don’t get how you can run every day before training. It’s honestly inspiring.” I ask “What if I told you it’s how I cope with my problems?” He answers “Then I would tell you that I am here for you and you can talk to me if running ever doesn’t solve your issues. I use drinking to cope with my issues, so your method is healthier.” I smile and reply “Drinking can be fun, but I try to reserve that for happy times.”

We keep walking for a few minutes before I exclaim “Thank you for tonight. You sat with me and waited for me. You also expressed concern and care. I appreciate that, Bradley. Thank you.” Bradley says “Always. I’m always here for you. No matter the day or night or anything, I’m here.” I feel tears in my eyes and I ask “Can I give you a hug?” He answers “Yes you can.”

We hug in the middle of the hallway and my tears fall. I feel him squeeze me together and he whispers “It’s okay. Let it out. I’m here. You’re here. It’s okay.”

After crying and hugging, I exclaim “The man … the man tonight said that I was a waste of the uniform and my father would hate to see me like this. It hurt. I just … I needed to cry it out.” Bradley replies “You’re not a waste in the uniform. In fact, you’re one of the best there is. This program is for the best of the best. That is you.” I sniffle out “How can you be so sure?” He pulls away from me and holds me so he can look straight into my eyes as he answers “I’m so sure you were right for this mission just like I am so sure you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. It’s just a fact, sweetheart.” I reply “Thanks. That’s wow… you’re handsome too.” He replies “Now you got me blushing. I am just going to throw an idea out there and you can say no. But how does a date on our next night off sound?” OMG I answer “A date on our next night off sounds perfect. I would love to go with you on a date.” He kisses me on the cheek and says “It’s a date then. Good night Y/N.” I reply “Night Bradley.”

#top gun fic #top gun movie #top gun fluff #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster fanfic #top gun imagines #bradley bradshaw imagines #bradley bradshaw fluff

[mjolnir-steve]

if ur feeling so inclined i'd love to read something with our bestest boy steve rogers, maybe fall-themed? maybe you're making hot chocolate or carving pumpkins or something 🥹 of course no pressure. congrats again my love!!!

AM I EVER!!!! Thank you so much for this sweet prompt and for being an even sweeter friend. I adore you 🥺💜 I guess I’ll call this a ficlet because it’s almost 1000 words. Oops!

A Whittle More Practice

Steve Rogers x gn!reader

Word count: 876

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff hehehe

A/N: Special shout-out to @the-sal-del-mar for the pun/title 😉 Sweet divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics!

“Steeeeeeeeeve, we have to grab some pumpkins! Pretty please?” Before he had a chance to respond, you were already walking over to the wooden pallet where pumpkins of all shapes and sizes were stacked for purchase. You were on the checkout line at the apple orchard after spending most of the morning on your boyfriend’s shoulders, picking the most perfect, unblemished apples from the tops of the trees. He even helped out a few families whose little ones insisted on using the former Captain America as a human elevator.

As you scrutinized the selection in front of you, Steve grabbed a pumpkin-carving kit at the register while a teenager weighed your basket of apples. “C’mon, sweetheart,” he called to you, smiling and running over to help you since you were struggling to carry four medium-sized pumpkins on your own. He handed his debit card to the boy ringing you up before you even had a chance to take out your wallet, earning a huff from you. He leaned down to sign the receipt, tutting at you. “None of that. This was my idea. My treat.” 

You pressed a kiss to his flannel-covered bicep before he placed the pumpkins and apples in the complimentary wagon from the orchard. With the handle in one hand and your hand in the other, he wheeled your purchases back to the car, loading the trunk swiftly as you climbed in and started the engine, turning up the heat just a little bit.

A little less than an hour later, you made it back to your shared apartment. “Hey, why don’t you go up and clear the table for the pumpkins? I’ll carry everything,” Steve ordered gently, squeezing your hand in his before getting out of the car. To Steve’s dismay, you took two of the pumpkins and the gallon of fresh apple cider and climbed the two flights of stairs, awkwardly maneuvering to get the door unlocked with your hands so full.

Once inside, you poured some of the cider into a pot and turned on the stove, warming the sweet and spiced drink to enjoy while you kicked off fall festivities. You set to work clearing off the kitchen table and set down some newspapers and plastic bags to aid in cleaning up the inevitable mess. Finally, you changed into your stained, designated crafting t-shirt so you wouldn’t ruin your new sweater you’d picked out just for this morning’s activities.

“Sweetheart, can you come open the door for me?” Steve called from the hall, arms full of all sorts of farm-fresh goodies, plus the other two pumpkins. You let him in and helped carry everything to the kitchen counter, then stopped to pour the two mugs of cider and brought them to the table. “That smells amazing.” He smiled softly and his eyes closed on instinct as he inhaled the scent of the drink, his face so innocent, reminding you that there was so much he never got to experience as a kid and before going into the ice.

“I can’t believe my boyfriend is the most beautiful man in the world,” you cooed, cupping his cheek in your hand before kissing him, making him blush all rosy and warm. You peppered kisses across his face, making sure not to miss any freckles, until he was laughing so hard you had to stop.

“All right, all right. I give.” He kissed your cheek, mouthing a thank you against your skin. He grabbed his laptop from the bedroom, placing it on the kitchen counter and playing Hocus Pocus, which you’d introduced to him this time last year. “Let’s do this.” Steve rubbed his hands together in determination before tearing open the carving kit. He’d never done this before, but how hard could it really be? 

You set to work on your first pumpkin, cutting out a standard jack-o’-lantern face with ease. As you started on your second, Steve was still struggling with his first. The knives were too small for his hands, and no matter how careful he was, he kept breaking through the rind in places he hadn’t intended. You could tell he was becoming frustrated, so around the time “I Put a Spell on You” finished playing in the background, you slipped away to Steve’s office and returned with some of his paints and brushes.

“Baby?” Steve looked up at you, dejectedly dropping the tiny blade to the table. “Would you rather paint your other pumpkin? I think we can just use this one for pie at this point.” You gave him a small smile, placing the supplies on top of a clean section of newspaper. He tilted his head up to kiss your cheek, then grabbed the bottle of black paint, shaking it vigorously before squeezing some out on the newspaper and dipping a brush into it.

“How do you always know how to fix things? Fix me?” He began by painting the stem black while he thought of his design.

“There was nothing to fix, Steve.” You rubbed his shoulders and kissed the top of his head. “You just need a whittle more practice.”

Steve snorted, nearly spitting out the sip of cider he’d dared to take. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Yeah, I am, aren’t I?”

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x gn!reader #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fic #steve rogers #maggie's writing #maggie answers #rodrikstark 💙

[brightereyes]

God if you really exist please prove it to me by letting the 6 pack of hard cider in my checked bag survive this flight intact

#I wrapped each bottle in a pair of socks and an individual plastic bag then wrapped the entire thing in foam and bubble wrap #and put it in a trash bag #if one breaks it will NOT get on my clothes

[unhingedselfships]

@majimemegoro here ya go, you wanted my take hehe

ANIMAL: coyote, crow, eel

COLOURS: phthalo green, charcoal, phthalo blue, scarlet, frost white, silver

MONTH: January

SONGS: Killing Strangers - Marilyn Manson, Call Me Devil - Friends In Tokyo, Bad Man - Esterly, Twisted - Missio, Happy Face - Jagwar Twin, Adderall - Max Frost

NUMBER: 1, 4, 15, 21

PLANTS: shameplant, zygopetalum orchid, japanese maple, hemlock

SMELLS: gun oil, tobacco, licorice, petrichor, clean linen

GEMSTONE: emerald, sapphire, malachite, blizzard stone, peacock tanzanite 

TIME OF DAY: midnight

SEASON: winter

PLACES: Sapporo, Tokyo, the gun range, the kitchen, wherever Kimi has drug him to

FOOD: blackberry cobbler, kobe steak, greasy burger, Sapporo miso ramen 

DRINKS: absinthe, gin and tonic, hot whiskey cider

ELEMENT: water, shadow

ASTROLOGICAL SIGNS: Gemini/Scorpio/Virgo

SEASONINGS: anise, salt, black garlic

SKY: cloudy with light snow

WEATHER: overcast, light snow, frigid cold, thin air

MAGICAL POWER: domination

WEAPONS: silver desert eagle, bowie knife, charm

SOCIAL MEDIA: professional accounts manned by a team, a few anon accounts here and there for lurking

MAKEUP PRODUCT: aftershave

CANDY: hard lollies, licorice, bubblegum

METHOD OF LONG DISTANCE TRAVEL: first class luxury flight

ART STYLE: Norman Rockwell

FEAR: dogs, intimacy/vulnerability, memory, genuine emotion

MYTHOLOGICAL CREATURE: Itsuki, Prometheus

PIECE OF STATIONARY: professional letterhead

THREE EMOJIS: 🕺🏻❄🙄

CELESTIAL BODY: moon, just shy of full

#yakkimi #oc stuff #character associations

[tabletoptrinketsbyjj]

Trinkets, 52: Interesting baubles, semi magical objects and items touched by mystery.

A silver compass with a phrase inscribed on the cover which reads “Never Lost Then Never Found”.

A broken bell that rings with the sound of lost love.

A one-gallon keg painted bright green, with red lettering spelling out the name “Mountain Dew” along the side. The cask is filled with a hard Dwarven vodka with a hint of lime and honeydew.

A three-inch oval of glossy obsidian stone worn smooth by countless years of wear. Inset into its surface are potent necromantic sigils, lined with frost. The stone itself is cold to the touch and unusually heavy for its size.

A foot-long, egg-shaped object made from stitched leather. If thrown properly, the item will spiral during flight, greatly increases its range and accuracy.

A stone statuette of some forgotten deity that produces a low rumbling chant in an unknown tongue when struck by moonlight.

An animated map of an unknown city that appears to be tracking the movements of five specific creatures within the city limits.

A finely made key carved from a single piece of milky-white ivory. It has an ornate filigree handle and traces of a red substance on the handle. PC’s proficient in calligraphy can determine that the scarlet material looks like archival ink as used by the clerics in the local temples.

An obsidian bust of a devilishly handsome, horned archfiend.

An interlocking wooden map made of nine concentric circles that can be rotated around the page like some sort of puzzle.

—Click Here to be directed to the Hotlinks To All Tables post, which provides (As you might have guessed) convenient links to all of the loot and resource tables this blog has.

—Keep reading for 90 more trinkets.

—Note: The previous 10 items are repeated for easier rolling on a d100.

A silver compass with a phrase inscribed on the cover which reads “Never Lost Then Never Found”.

A broken bell that rings with the sound of lost love.

A one-gallon keg painted bright green, with red lettering spelling out the name “Mountain Dew” along the side. The cask is filled with a hard Dwarven vodka with a hint of lime and honeydew.

A three-inch oval of glossy obsidian stone worn smooth by countless years of wear. Inset into its surface are potent necromantic sigils, lined with frost. The stone itself is cold to the touch and unusually heavy for its size.

A foot-long, egg-shaped object made from stitched leather. If thrown properly, the item will spiral during flight, greatly increases its range and accuracy.

A stone statuette of some forgotten deity that produces a low rumbling chant in an unknown tongue when struck by moonlight.

An animated map of an unknown city that appears to be tracking the movements of five specific creatures within the city limits.

A finely made key carved from a single piece of milky-white ivory. It has an ornate filigree handle and traces of a red substance on the handle. PC’s proficient in calligraphy can determine that the scarlet material looks like archival ink as used by the clerics in the local temples.

An obsidian bust of a devilishly handsome, horned archfiend.

An interlocking wooden map made of nine concentric circles that can be rotated around the page like some sort of puzzle.

A huge scorpion's barb engraved with a single letter in the Random Humanoid Race tongue.

A pair of scrimshaw cufflinks with an image of a fisherman on a boat engraved on them.

A plain-woven wool travel blanket (6ft x 6ft) with an embroidered edging of leaves and vines.

A sealed, one-gallon cask filled with an alcoholic drink known as “Cray's Crazy Cider of Creation”. It tastes of thin rolled oats with skinned golden apples and might be the thickest beverage the drinker has ever had the pleasure of consuming. Upon imbibing, the drinker of Cray’s Crazy Cider of Creation feels calm, a soothing wave caresses their body but they can feel the strange brew changing inside them. 1d6 hours after consuming enough of the cider, the drinker will feel sick and harmlessly regurgitate a Random Trinket. There is enough liquid in the keg for eight creatures to drink enough of it to be magically affected by it.

A fine wooden comb with the name of a noble family carved into it.

A thin quiver for light-weight travel that can hold up to hold up to five arrows. It has leather straps to easily attach to arms, legs or thighs, as well as across the back or waist.

A glossy black stone, with a complex sigil on its surface. It is cold to the touch and anyone who holds it experiences a sense of melancholy.

A wired together skeleton of a small bird with humanoid hands where its wings should be.

A tiny silver butter knife etched with ivy patterns.

A child’s drawing of a house on a hill, with a smiling sun in the sky.

A lacquered oak leaf on a leather strap that can be worn as an eye patch.

The last page of an unknown diary containing only the words “close the door” written in what appears to be blood.

A tear stained love letter written by an an elf, breaking things off with their human lover.

A soap carving of a beautiful Random Humanoid woman.

A bracelet made of three intertwined leather strands with a silver crescent disc in the center. The bearer is always aware of when the moon will rise and fall.

A bronze death mask of a young, noble-looking woman.

A pouch made from the skin of a platinum-furred fox. The pouch's top flap is the beast's head, its tail dangles from the base, and the whole is trimmed with white woolen tassels.

A chess set of onyx and alabaster inset with garnet and paraiba. The black queen is a unicorn and the white queen is a wyvern.

An elaborate dress saddle, made of black and golden leather tooled with linked triskelions and trimmed with golden bells.

A polished ram's horn stoppered with a pewter lid and filled with powdered glass.

A clay jar that contains a brownish-green liquid with the viscosity of syrup. When applied to the bare skin, flesh takes on a thick and warty quality, darkening slightly, and giving off a cinnamon aroma for a few hours.

A carved and crafted armband made from the horn of the shovel horn rhino that dwells in the Hinterlands.

A grisly fetish consisting of the head of a winter wolf. It is meant to be worn as a mask.

A cloak pin shaped like a falcon in flight on a field of gold.

A large metal carafe, engraved with depictions of the peace ceremony it was meant to commemorate. Knowledgeable PC's know that a set of these flagons were crafted in Solanos Mor to commemorate the one-hundredth anniversary of peace between the Solani and Encali dwarves. Since that time, replicas of the original have become a common gift of truce between nations and different factions.

A ram’s horn scrimshawed with images of menageries and gardens. The inside rim of the device is scribed with benedictions to the Goddess of Fertility, asking for the blessing of her bounty.

An ivory pipe capped at either end with grimy bronze fittings. When smoking from this pipe, the grey smoke tendrils form macabre shapes of menacing spirits.

A palm sized, scintillating disk of unknown material.

A wooden chess piece shaped like a dancing satyr wearing a bishop's hat and clutching a gnarled staff.

A thin bottle labelled “Whiskerburp Vodka” that features a drawing of what only could be wispy long whiskers of some unknown animal on it. Bubbly as it could possibly be, the liquor colors the drinker’s sense of taste with a light orchid flavor hinted with clovers. The vodka fizzes up an obscene amount when swallowed. Every shot taken causes the drinker to burp grotesquely, and quite generously, for 30 to 40 seconds. Knowledgeable PC’s are aware that it is a local favorite in the City of Jestero.

A ball-and-cup toy that plays a short, victorious jingle whenever the ball lands in the cup.

A bone coin with a smiling satyr's face on one side and a satyr's skull on the other.

A bracelet made of bird skulls that occasionally caws when not worn.

An ivory bracelet depicting a tribal warrior.

A knot of petrified wood wrapped around a stone that hovers when released.

A mummified Random Humanoid heart that was clearly ripped not cut, from its owner's body.

An aged, yellow parchment covered with sharp, angular runes. Written on this scroll is an arcane spell of Summon Familiar.

A small glass jar that to most, merely looks as if it contains colored sand. A particularly perceptive observer however will see the sand shift, forming itself into a dazzling, miniature vista of a woodland glade.

A marionette, belonging and possessed by a young girl who took a fatal misstep.

A battle wand made from the shattered hilt and jawbone of a defeated hobgoblin warband leader.

A majority of a length of horn, originating from a fiend. Almost imperceptible runes are engraved on the jagged bottom part where it broke off the demon’s head.

A pick-ax with a false bottom at the end of the haft that opens to reveal an old map of a cave system with an “X” marking a remote part of the depths with the words “MINE HERE!” written next to it.

A hard leather case that contains an incense maker’s toolkit. This includes a metal press for forming incense cones, a mortar and pestle, a mixing pan, dozens of bamboo splints for joss sticks, containers of sawdust and coal dust for binding and a half dozen small vial of aromatic oils and fragrant powders.  

A rusted, iron incense holder that still smells of pungent herbs.

A pair of pressed flowers, perfectly preserved between a set of smudged journal pages.

A drinking cup with painted fish designs on the inside.

A wooden toy of a cameldrake with carved-on riding tackle.

A petrified wasp's nest, wrapped in fabric like a swaddled baby.

A wolf-like skull with a pair of antlers. The bone is a deep, unnatural grey.

A palm-sized cauldron that continuously emits harmless, white smoke.

A heavy, stone key overgrown with moss. One of the teeth is chipped off.

A leather wallet stamped with the image of a kiln being fired. It contains a full set of certified identification papers denoting that the bearer is a member of the potters and tile-makers guild. The section containing the member's physical description (Height, weight, sex, race, eye, skin and hair color) is completely blank and could be filled in by anyone with half decent handwriting.

A portable metal cooking fire grill perfect for camping.

A dog collar made of the finest leather.

A fist-sized lump of moss that seems to be breathing.

A lollipop that seems to contain a strange ethereal light within.

A one-gallon cask filled with a stout ale known as Luiren's Best. Brewed in Luiren by the Smokardin clan, the heavy beer is jet-black with a thick consistency and a sweet aftertaste.

An onyx charm in the shape of a leopard seal on a leather thong.

A wolf skull lantern that sings a haunting tune every dusk.

An ivory set of leatherworking tools that are particularly well suited to working with blubbery animals such as seals, walruses and whales.

A stuffed cuddly doll of an owlbear.

An extremely detailed page detailing the design of a complex puzzle box. This appears to be only one of several pages within a complete set. Haphazardly scrawled across the design, and partly obscuring the document, is the words: "We were wrong. BE CAUTIOUS".

A single crystal slipper that will fit anyone who tries it on.

A pair of furry balls linked by a silk cord. They relax the bearer slightly when squeezed.

A silver locket that shows the portrait of the person the bearer has the strongest feelings for in the world.

A glass sculpture of a serpent eating a sun.

A tarnished chalice engraved with a prayer asking for the blessings of Random Godly Domain.

A partly melted holy symbol depicting a sun.

A tiny steel anvil. When heated up it displays a love ballad.

A crude map of the local area inscribed on a tattered canvas scroll, that bears an “X” marking an area near where the map was found. There is a list of instructions in the bottom corner of the map: Find the road marker leading south, then go south for 3-4 miles until you find the beach strewn with black seashells. From there, go east for 2-3 miles, until you find the crossroads, then go north-east for 1-2 miles and you'll find the reserve protected by magical wards. ---Note: It is up to the DM whether or not if the instructions can be followed (The “landmarks” might be a code, riddle or simply not exist for example) and if there is anything at the end. The map could easily be a prank, trap, confidence scheme, ambush or the area could already have been stripped of any value by other adventurers.

A bronze coin which lands moon side face up at night and sun side face up in the day.

A leaf that burns up each dusk and regrows every dawn.

A crystal bracelet that shows six different animal faces, changing depending on the mood of the bearer.

A fine tricorn hat. It gives nightmares of its previous owner's demise.

A weightless scabbard decorated with blue and white swirls.

A bronze egg with golden swirls.

A wooden puzzle that depicts a flying copper dragon.

A small wooden sculpture of a sapling.

A clear glass bottle, filled with liquid, sealed with wax and labeled “Carnal, 8:69 Blessed”. It contains an Orlesian liqueur for the daring, or those who wish to seem so. Said to enhance sensation. And at the bottom, an erotically carved peach pit. The design is plain, but the bottler assures that the act of carving was scandalous.

A butterfly’s cocoon contained in a perfect glass box.

A locket covered in burn marks, containing the picture of a Random Humanoid family inside.

A sealed five gallon barrel filled with milled flour of impressive quality.

A tin box with a small, eternally lit ember inside.

A cold-iron nail twisted into the shape of a holy symbol of Random Godly Domain.

A brass pocket watch whose hands won’t stop spinning wildly.

A curiously made coin of magically toughened glass, stamped with obscure ritual imagery and filled with quicksilver, without seams or air bubbles. They are about 20% larger than the size of a standard gold coin, but five times thicker and weighing 5 times as much as a single coin (10 per pound). To a numismatist collector it may be worth anywhere from 30 to 150gp. A PC proficient with alchemist’s tools can determine that it contains 30gp worth of mercury.

A nose to chin mask, which forces the wearer to talk in whispers.

A carved mahogany cigar box.

A pair of large balloon leg pantaloons made of blue velvet and sewn with tiny pearls depicting flamingos in flagrante delicto.

A large, collectible tin container full of antique boiled sweets now prized for their rarity and aged flavor. The flavors are fruit, herb, spice, meat, bone, and blood.

[old-archivist]

Foods of Thedas: Prepared Ingredients

I separated these from raw ingredients because they either are foods/drinks on their own but are included in recipes, or involve a certain amount of cooking/processing to make them that separates them from those listed in raw ingredients. However, like with raw ingredients, I’ve only included items that are mentioned or shown in game for easy reference. Should you want to find additional and “speculative” ingredients you can visit this post or the master post.

For Additional Food Posts

Dishes, Sauces, and Sides

Drinks

Raw Ingredients

Cannonically Possible Foods and Drinks

Master Post

Basic Ingredients

Alcohol

Brandy

Cinnamon-infused whiskey

Dark Llomerryn Rum

Hirol's Lava Burst

Prophet's Laurel Gin

Red Wine

Watered Down Ale

Whiskey

White Seleney Wine

Broth and Stock

Broth

Deepstalker Broth (Dwarven)

Fish Broth

Stock

Brown Stock

Eggs

Hard Boiled Egg

Essences and Extracts

Essence

Orange Essence

Extract

Mint Extract

Orange Extract

Vanilla Extract

Golds

Edible Gold Leaf (Orlaisian)

Gold Dust (Orlesian)

Grains

Noodles

Grain-based Noodles

Pasta

Spaghetti (Antivan)

Pie Dough

Oils

Cod Liver Oil

Oil

Sugars

Brown Sugar

Molasses

Powdered Sugar

Sugar

Sugar Syrup

Vinegars

Apple Cider Vinegar

Herbed Wine Vinegar

Vinegar

Desserts and Sweets

Desserts

Buttercream

Caramel

Chocolate

Chocolate Bitters

Custard

Pound Cake

Tea Biscuit

Toffee

Wafer

Jam

Plum Jam

Raspberry Jam

Misc

Sugar Cream Icing

Sugar Flowers

Sugared Rose Petals

Syrup

Dried and Cured Foods

Dried Fruits, Vegetables, and Fungi

Dried Apple

Dried Apricot

Dried Beans

Dried Cherry

Dried Cranberry

Dried Currant

Dried Mushroom

Dried Peas

Prunes

Pitted Prunes

Raisin

Cured Meats

Bacon

Smoked Bacon

Cold Cuts

Dried Meats

Dried Mackerel

Jerky

Lutefisk

Salted

Dried Salt Pork

Salt Pork

Salted Beef

Salted Dragon Meat

Salted Fish

Salted Goat Meat

Salted Meat

Sausage

Blood Sausage

Smoked Sausage

Spiced and Salted Sausage

Smoked

Smoked Beef

Smoked Fish

Smoked Goat Meat

Pickled Foods

Pickled Ox Tongue

Pickles

Prepared Animal Products

Gelatine

Grease

Ground Meat

Ground Beef

Ground Nug (Dwarven)

Lard

Spiced Meat

Miscellaneous

Lyrium

Wyvern Venom - There are 47 ways to distill wyvern venom to be safe for consumption.

Sources: ( If you want to find direct links or page numbers check out the wiki’s Food and Ingredients page.) Dragon Age: Origins (Base and DLCs) Dragon Age: Awakening Dragon Age 2 (Base and DLCs) Dragon Age: The Last Court Dragon Age: Inquisition (Base and DLCs) Dragon Age Tabletop RPG Core Rulebook

World of Thedas Vol. 1 World of Thedas Vol. 2 Dragon Age: The Stolen Throne Dragon Age: The Calling Dragon Age: The Masked Empire Dragon Age: Last Flight Dragon Age: Tevinter Nights Short Story: Paying the Ferryman Short Story: Paper and Steel

DA:O Codex Entry: The History of Soldier's Peak: Chapter 3 Codex Entry: A Tattered Shopping List Item: Sugar Cake

DA II Codex Entry: Wyvern

DA:I Codex Entry: Plant vs. Corpses Codex Entry: Waterlogged Diary Note: The Gilded Horn's Drink List Note: Knight-Captain's Orders

The Last Court Flames of Freedom The Next Course Thieves The Wyvern is Cornered

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