#chardonnay legacy

[simgerale]

during her morning jog in the snow, arlie decided that today would be a good day. what better way to start it off than a coffee date with friends?

[hmslusitania]

For the OTP Ask:

#21 with Arrowverse: Tommy Merlyn and Oliver Queen.

21. "I don't drink." "Oh really now? When did that start?" Sooooo.... this became basically a deleted scene from season one? I've never written arrowverse fic before, this was honestly very fun! I mean, angsty, ambiguous ending, but fun to write at least!

Be at the party. Be Oliver Queen. Be the idiotic socialite they all still expect you to be.

It’s not quite working the way it should, and Oliver kind of hates that. Most people are buying it, the strangers, the hangers on who’d always wanted to flock to and fill up the Queen and Merlyn parties back in the day. There’s a blonde girl by the bar who’s a little too young to be hanging with this crowd, and she reminds him of Sara with a sharp stabbing sensation right up under his ribs. There’s Laurel, real and here and so understandably mad at him, for dying and for surviving and for every shade in between those two extremes. There’s Thea, definitely too young to be at this or any party, still working on that drug problem he’d tried to curb when Amanda Waller had brought him back to Starling in time for Tommy’s birthday party, years earlier.

They all still see the Ollie they’d lost, the man who’d died the second Robert Queen pulled that trigger.

The memory of his father drags him out of his maudlin thoughts about how well his social camouflage is or isn’t working. He’s got a task, something to accomplish tonight. There’s a reason he’d arranged to have his welcome home party here, right across the street from the offices he’ll need to sneak away into, to cross one more name off the list.

“You look more in need of a drink than any man I’ve ever seen.”

Oliver tears his gaze away from the party, away from the target’s office, and discovers Tommy, standing beside him with a glass in his hand that he’s extending Oliver’s direction.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you at a party with an empty hand,” Oliver says, but he accepts Tommy’s offering. After his time in Russia, after his time with the Bratva, there’s basically nothing the booze in Starling City can do to him. Frankly, considering how he and Tommy had spent their youth, the only reason the Bratva’s vodka had been able to do anything to him at all had been because of his drier time on the island.

“Yeah, I don’t really drink at parties anymore,” Tommy confides.

Oliver takes a sip of the concoction Tommy’s brought him, and raises an eyebrow. “Who are you and what’ve you done with Tommy Merlyn?”

Tommy laughs, just a little, and ducks his head before he scans the crowd. Oliver doesn’t have to follow his gaze to note where his attention pauses: Laurel at the bar, Thea in the crowd, and ever so briefly on the blonde at the counter who reminds him of Sara.

“You don’t want to hear the story,” Tommy assures him. “Promise.”

“No, I think I do,” Oliver says. It’s not… quite right for the Oliver he’d been before all of this, but it’s in keeping with the man he’s trying to be publicly. The Oliver who regrets the decisions he’d made before he’d been lost at sea, the Oliver who’s come back to Starling City to do right by his family and his family legacy.

But there’s a script for stories like this, for reasons why socialites don’t drink at parties. It’s usually something like “I don’t drink white wine anymore, because I had a terrible day entertaining my father’s contacts at the club, and I spent eight entire hours at one table and the waiter kept refilling my glass of chardonnay and now whenever I smell the stuff, I dry heave.”

It’s usually silly problems like that, that don’t have any bearing on Oliver’s life anymore, that he can’t imagine caring about. But from the cloud that passes over Tommy’s face, he’s suddenly driven to remember Hong Kong, to remember escaping Maseo’s guard long enough to call back home, to remember being placed on a roof with a sniper rifle, because Tommy had trekked across the globe to find him on the faintest shred of hope that Ollie might still be alive.

It won’t be stupid socialite reasons, and Tommy confirms that when he steers Oliver closer to the stairs and to a quieter part of the party.

“While you were gone—” Tommy pauses to shudder, and swallow back the idea of the five years Oliver had been dead for all intents and purposes. “—my twenty-fifth, Thea snuck into the party, and she was, uh, I don’t want you to go off the rails about this, but she had a drug dealer, and, I should’ve been keeping a better eye on her. I tried, man, you have to know I did everything I could to be a big brother for her while you were missing, but this guy got into the party anyway, and I’d been drinking enough that it took Laurel intervening to keep Thea out of juvie, and ever since, I might not have been able to keep her out of parties, but I can at least make sure I’m sober enough to keep her out of trouble.”

He doesn’t mention that the drug dealer had died at the party, and Oliver doesn’t blame him. They’re not at a point where they can be totally honest with each other about what they’d been doing with their time in their five years apart, and they’re not at a point yet where Oliver can tell him about the Hood, about the arrows, about the list.

But they don’t have to be at that point for Oliver to know in his bones that Tommy is a good man. A better man than he’ll ever be.

“I know you did,” Oliver says, and lets himself give in to the impulse to throw his empty arm around Tommy’s shoulders and pull him into a hug. “There was never any doubt in my mind that you’d keep an eye on all of them for me.”

“Yeah,” Tommy says, and his voice is a little thick when he responds, but it’s nice when he actually hugs Oliver back. It’s… it’s nicer than Ollie deserves. All of this is, even the open animosity he’s getting from the Lance family. “Yeah, man, you know it was the least I could do, since I — since I couldn’t do anything for you.”

If they were other people, it might be the moment Tommy tells him about following a wild goose chase to Hong Kong, about clinging desperately to the hope that Ollie was still alive, not because he didn’t want to keep an eye on Oliver’s family for him, but because of the simple fact that he missed him.

But they’re not other people, and they’re both maintaining reputations, and Tommy’s reputation might be hiding less of a dark interior than Ollie’s own fakery, but it’s no less of a mask. One of these days, at least for a minute, he wants to sit down with Tommy without a mask to hide behind. He wants — well. He wants a lot of things, and one of those things is that he wants to share the whole truth of himself, the reality of everything from Lian Yu and Hong Kong and his return to Starling and Russia with someone, and Tommy’s the only candidate he’s got. Not just because he couldn’t bear the idea of burdening his mother or Thea with it all, not just because Laurel is rightly not speaking to him, but because Tommy’s… Tommy. He wants to tell Tommy about Shado and Slade and Sara and Ivo and Anatoly and Tatsu and Maseo and Constantine and goddamn Amanda Waller. He wants to tell him about his father, about the list, about whatever the fuck the Undertaking is.

But Tommy is Tommy, and therefore Tommy is a good man, and Ollie—

Well. He’s not Ollie anymore, for one thing. And he’s not a good man anymore either, if he ever was. But maybe, maybe, he can fix his city, and if it costs him his life, well. At least he’ll be content to know that he’s got Tommy, keeping any eye on everyone left who’s still precious to him, including Tommy himself.

“I love you, man,” Tommy murmurs, just quiet enough that it could get lost in the music and noise of the party if Oliver wanted it to.

“I love you too,” Oliver says, and then he has to tear himself out of the embrace he’d started. He has to duck into the stairwell with the excuse of needing to track down a bathroom. He has to find his bow and hood where he’d stashed them.

He’s got a name to cross off.

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

FINDING YOU Chapter 7

Summary: You're in a relationship with Steve Rogers, but his best friend just always seems to be around!

Word Count: 5.6K

Warnings: angst, self doubt

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 7

“You didn't love her, you just met her!” Bucky laughed.

It was the most relaxed you’d seen him in a public setting and it warmed your heart. Bucky had become your best friend in the months following your trip to the mountains. You were awkwardly watching Bucky, Steve and Peggy having a conversation from a distance feeling afraid to approach, despite your conversation with Peggy, you still felt apprehensive. Your partially concealed attention may have been considered eavesdropping.

“I thought you said she wasn't real.” Steve said with bravado, but you could tell he was trying not to blush.

“My pal here was sure this ‘woman’ was the only one who would love him,” Bucky teased.

“Who was she?” Peggy asked. Did she have a hint of apprehension in her voice? Was there more he had kept from her?

“Her name was Dottie. She was from somewhere over the rainbow. I thought I was saving her, but she ended up saving me.”

“I think he got caught in the rain after seeing the Wizard of Oz and was delirious from the pneumonia he developed.” Bucky interjected.

“I guess in the end she made me feel like there was hope for me. And there was.” Steve took Peggy’s hand. “I still believe it happened. But I know it wasn’t real, it wasn’t love.”

You had wished you hadn't stuck around to listen to this story. Your curiosity for the man you loved had taken over but wanted to scrub his words from your brain. The words Steve had spoken had no malice, but his firm simple matter of fact denial of his feelings, or lack thereof was devastating.

You wandered away from the crowd that surrounded Steve and Peggy lost in a haze of your thoughts. He had never cared for you. It was Peggy, it had always been her and always would be. Had he cared about you at all? Had you imagined the connection you’d felt with him. The whole year you’d spent in each other's arms, it had all been a lie.

It wasn’t long before you found yourself at the bar, nursing a large glass of chardonnay. Oh how tempting it was to drink down to the bottom of the bottle, but instead you stared at the smudged fingerprints of your hand on the glass, lost in a storm of negativity. Every criticism you’d heard, every derogatory thought you’d had about yourself came crashing over you, every insult, every taunt pulled you under, deeper and deeper into despair.

All the years you’d spent at medical school amounted to nothing, the years with S.H.I.E.L.D. hadn’t borne any fruit. You hadn’t made a difference to the world, not like her. You’d been living in her shadow ever since you’d made the decision to join Coulson’s team. What were you even doing with your life now? Deep down, you knew that you had made a difference in the lives of many, but what was a few individuals compared to the legacy created by Peggy Carter. Of course he hadn’t chosen you.

There was a tightness in your chest, a black cloud which descended on you. The darkness spread through you, creeping into every corner of your being, poisoning your soul and corrupting your thoughts. You were so lost in your despondency that you didn’t notice Bucky sitting down beside you.

It wasn’t until he snapped his metal fingers in front of your face that you were able to acknowledge his presence.

“Oh hey Buck.”

“Don’t ‘hey Buck’ me. What’s wrong?”

You opened your mouth with the intention of speaking, but your throat felt thick with emotion and you couldn’t find the words to describe how you felt without tears falling. So you stayed silent, shrugging slightly in response.

Bucky studied your features intensely as you took a mouthful of wine to avoid further conversation. In the end, he decided not to press the issue. He ordered a bourbon and sat with you in silence. Bucky’s presence always seemed to give you comfort, his solid non invasive nature made him the perfect companion when you didn’t want to talk. You were about to order your third glass of wine, but he stopped you.

“Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure.”

“It’s just going to make you feel worse.”

“I don’t care.”

“Why don’t I take you home?”

“That’s fine, I have wine there.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but dismounted the barstool. He offered you a hand but you pushed him away. It was only to your detriment, as you’d consumed two large glasses of wine on an empty stomach and you weren’t as stable as you’d have liked.

“Come on.”

You followed him, teetering along until you reached his bike. He handed you his helmet which you accepted reluctantly.

“What about you?”

“I’ll be fine,” he smiled at your concern for him. “Come on.”

You put the helmet on and climbed onto the motorcycle behind him. You wrapped your arms around his waist as Bucky sped down the street. The protective helmet was snug around your head and the warmth of Bucky’s back against your front made you feel safer than you had all evening. You felt yourself letting out the grief you’d been fighting to keep buried all evening. Tears slipped down your face in the confines of the safety helmet as you wept.

The ride home was taking a little longer than expected, not that you objected to the scenic detour that Bucky had taken. You were glad that you were able to stop crying before you reached your apartment.

“Thanks Bucky,” you mumbled, not making any moves to remove the helmet.

“Any chance I can get my helmet back?”

“Unlikely.” You didn’t want him to see your red puffy eyes.

You were locked in a stalemate. Bucky wasn’t volunteering to leave and you made no further moves to dismiss him or invite him in.

In the end it was Bucky who made a lateral move and swung his leg back over his bike.

"Get on."

You decided not to challenge him and hopped back on behind him. He made a few swift turns and pulled up in front of an iHOP.

You smiled at the thought of pancakes and your stomach rumbled loudly in anticipation. Bucky twisted round to look at you. It was almost like he could see through the reflective visor surface.

"Pancakes won't work if you keep that thing on."

"Fine."

You pulled off the protective headgear, grateful that Bucky made no mention of your tear stained face. You followed him inside where you found a table in a shadowy corner. Wordlessly, he handed you a napkin giving you a chance to wipe your face. You were surprised at how he had taken control of the situation, normally Bucky was very docile with your interactions, preferring to comply with your every demand. Before you knew what was happening, he had placed an order for both of you and you were silently tucking into strawberry covered pancakes. It was only when you'd finished that Bucky turned on you.

"What happened?"

It wasn't a question, it was a command.

You sighed. "Bucky…"

"Tell me."

The look in his eyes almost frightened you, giving you a momentary glimpse of the last thing his enemies might have seen before their encounter with The Winter Soldier. You blinked and that look was gone. It was almost as though he was angry. It wasn’t that you were afraid of Bucky, you knew you could trust him, but you were glad that those days were behind him. The wildness and fury in his eyes, his dilated pupils a midnight blue, the icy fire you caught, that wasn’t something you’d have wanted to encounter in a dark alley.

Just as suddenly as it had appeared, the look was gone and your friend with his gentle easy going manner was back in front of you. It was so short lived that you wondered if you’d imagined it.

“Ace?”

"I thought he loved me," you admitted dismally. You felt foolish for hoping that Steve might still harbor feelings for you even though he'd made his choice clear.

"I don't understand."

"He said it didn't mean anything. What we had was nothing."

You didn't need to tell Bucky who he was. 

"When?"

"Just now," you waved your fork in the direction you thought the party was continuing. "You were there."

"Steve wasn't talking about you."

"Yes, he was," you said quietly. “Okay, I’m not sure how to even start explaining this. But I’ll try. You’ll have to be patient with this crazy story. Okay?”

“Alright.” Bucky looked at you quizzically, but nodded in agreement.

“So a few years ago, my team and I ended up getting involved in a war against the Chronicoms.”

“Chronicoms?”

“They’re an extremely advanced and ancient race of synthetic, semi-robotic beings that operate in the galaxy as observers. They have a strict code of not interfering with the natural course of life on a planet. With one exception: to prevent an extinction-level event.”

“Extinction?”

“Extinction,” you confirmed.

“Thanos didn’t count?”

“Thanos didn’t,” you shook your head.

“Wow. So what extinction level event were you involved in?”

“Cliff notes version, because that's a whole other story. The Chronicoms planet came under siege and they wanted to establish Earth as their new home. They harnessed the powers of the Time Di’Allas to go back in time to change-”

“Woah, woah, I’m sorry, Time Di’Allas?”

“It’s a giant monolith artifact which has time travel properties. Understand?”

“No, but I’m not sure I’m going to understand more than half your story.”

“May I continue then?”

Bucky held out his hands, as if to say ‘the floor is all yours’.

“So they went back in time to try and destroy S.H.I.E.L.D. And we followed them. Anyway, I got stuck in early 1939. It was barely over twenty four hours but the Chronicom Hunters spent the whole time trying to kill me.”

Images flashed through your mind as you told Bucky the story as you remembered it.

Your heart was pounding as you ran through the streets of New York City. The hunters were on your tail and they were vicious, showing no mercy to anyone who crossed their path. Your throat burned as every breath stretched your lungs to the max. At any second, your body was going to give out. Lactic acid was scorching the insides of your veins, your legs were feeling heavy and you were losing speed.

To make things worse, it started to rain. Dark clouds loomed overhead, reducing visibility and the wet cobblestones made your feet slip and slide as you pushed one drenched shoe in front of the other.

You knew your luck was about to run out, as you rounded a corner, a last minute decision to zig rather than zag. It was a fatal error in your calculations as your feet went sliding in different directions and you landed face down in a puddle. A groan escaped your lips as you pushed yourself up and small pebbles pierced the skin of your palms and ripped your pants. You stood up, brushing your palms off when you came face to face with a brick wall. You sighed, turning to face the opening of the alley, ready to fight for your life.

“Hey!” A voice hissed at you from behind you.

You turned but didn’t see anything.

“Over here!” The voice called again.

This time you caught sight of a slender built blonde haired man behind a fence.  He was beckoning to you. You looked back and forth between the alley entrance and the stranger behind the fence. It didn’t take much time to calculate that you would more likely stand your own defending yourself against a single rather scrawny looking man versus three Chronicom Hunters with sophisticated weapons of destruction. You decided to take your chances with the man.

He held the fence open and you slipped through the gap.

“Come on, this way.”

You followed him silently, stalking through small back alleys until you reached a movie theater.

“We can duck in here.” Steve smiled at you.

“Thank you.”

“Two please.” Steve pulled out his wallet and bought two tickets.

“What movie are we seeing?” you asked.

“It’s something new, just released yesterday. It’s called The Wizard of Oz.”

A grin spread across your face. “I’m sure it will be incredible.”

The two of you hurried into the screening room and claimed two seats in the back just as the room darkened and trailers started up.

“Thanks for helping me out back there,” you whispered.

“No problem.”

“Why did you?”

The blonde shrugged. “I don’t like bullies.”

It was such a simple answer, an honest one. Something you hadn’t heard in a while and you appreciated the sentiment. You settled back and tried to enjoy the movie, every once in a while you glanced towards the door, but no one appeared and your heart rate settled back into a normal range.

The movie came to a close with Dorothy telling Aunt Em that she had been in Oz. "I’m so glad to be at home again!”

The lights came up and people began to file out.

“So-”

“So! Thanks again for helping me.” You smiled at him gratefully.

Now that the lights were brighter, you could see his face more clearly along with the blush which had spread across his delicate features. He didn’t quite meet your eyes when you spoke to him.

“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. I’m-”

He stopped as you pressed two fingers to his lips to silence him. He stared at you in surprise and it was your turn to blush as you pulled your hand away.

“Sorry. I just don’t think we should learn too much about each other. Those people that are looking for me are incredibly clever at getting information from people. The less we know about each other the better it is.”

“Alright.” Steve didn’t look surprised that a girl didn’t want to know who he was.

“I do need something to call you though. How about Daniel?”

“That’s fine,” he stammered back at you. “You’re not leaving?”

“I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind helping me out a little more?”

“Of course,” Steve replied eagerly.

“My friends will be back to get me soon. I was wondering if you knew somewhere I could lay low for a while?”

“I think I have an idea.”

You smiled.

“So if I’m going to help you out, what do I call you?”

You thought for a moment, before a smirk crept across your face. “I’m Dorothy.”

“Nice to meet you, Dottie.” Steve smiled. “Come on, before they throw us out.”

You followed his lead. Steve shoved his hands in his pockets as he strolled down the street. You matched his stride as he walked, slipping your arm through his as you noticed that there were few unaccompanied women out and about. It wouldn’t be wise to draw attention to yourself.

“Sorry,” you said as you noticed Steve blushing. “I just didn’t want to get questioned about being out unchaperoned.

“We don’t live in the 1800s anymore,” Steve grinned at you. But he didn’t make any move to untangle himself from you. “That said, I’m curious about where you purchased your clothes. I’ve never seen a dame wear anything like that around here.”

You looked down at your fitted black top and dark jeans. “Maybe we need to make a stop for clothes.”

Steve stopped outside the first store that sold women’s clothes.

“Guess this is as good a place as any.” 

You shrugged. “What if I have standards?”

“Then you wouldn’t be here with me.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Look at me. It’s not as though women are lining up to cut a rug.”

You didn't understand what he said, but you knew you didn't like his tone. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Sell yourself short.”

“Are you really going to bring up my height?” Steve kipped.

You swatted his arm. “Come on,” you pulled him into the store. “Help me find something to wear.”

After a few moments of perusing the aisles, you picked up something that caught your eye.

“So Daniel, what do you think?” You held a green swing dress up in front of you and shook your hips from side to side.

“Looks real swell.”

You laughed and threw it across his arms.

“What brings you to this neck of the woods?” he asked, trying his luck at getting information from you.

“Where else could I find a dress like this?” 

Steve chuckled at your evasive answer.

“Come on, I’m going to try them on.” You lead the way to the fitting rooms.

You spent the next hour parading outfits in front of Steve, trying to get his opinion. Unfortunately he didn’t give you much guidance, he said you looked beautiful in every single one. Eventually you found a winner, a scarlet below knee ruched puff sleeve A-line dress. You knew you’d found the one because his jaw quite literally dropped as you emerged from the curtained cubicle.

“You like it?”

“It’s perfect,” he whispered. He was almost afraid to make noise and wake himself from the dream. “Now that you’re all decked out, I can show you a place where you can stay.”

“Thank you.” You squeezed his arm gently, grateful for his generosity.

You felt lucky to have come across this kind stranger, knowing that you’d not survive if you were stuck on the streets of the city. The hunters after you were ruthless and you definitely needed rest if you were to make it until Zephyr One jumped to the next point in time. You needed to be ready.

You paid for the dress with the little money you’d left the Zephyr One with and the two of you left the store with your clothes folded in a bag. You had decided to keep your own boots on, luckily they didn’t look too out of place and you needed to be practical. The man beside you kept glancing in your direction, blushing profusely when you caught his eye.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. You made a great choice.” You grinned at him.

Your expression changed slightly as you caught a glimpse of a familiar looking figure. It made your heart rate shoot up and you slipped your arm through his in panic. You gave a quick glance backwards but there was nothing there. You’d always been a rather jumpy person, it was shocking you’d survived for so long with Coulson’s team. Facing an enemy face to face was so much easier than waiting for someone to jump out at you from the shadows. 

“It’s alright,” Steve said softly. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

You felt a pang in your heart. This poor man had no idea what he was up against, yet here he was, offering to protect you. The Chronicom hunters would squash him like a bug. Maybe letting him help you wasn’t such a good idea after all. You were about to pull away from him when he spoke again.

“So you’re really not going to tell me anything about yourself?”

There was something about his eyes, the beautiful blue made you feel like you were falling into the sky. Your heart contracted with his offer of chivalry.

“You don’t think a little mystery is exciting?” you flirted.

“I’ve had enough mystery to last me a lifetime. I prefer getting to know people.”

The earnestness in his eyes made you feel guilty. “I wish I could tell you something more.”

“Do you think something terrible would happen if you did?”

You bit your lip, thinking about the butterfly effect, the ever diverging multiverse, the implications on the future. “Maybe.”

“Who are you? Mata Hari?”

“I’m not much of a dancer,” you quipped. “Look, Daniel. Or whatever your name is. I’m not sure that this is a good idea.”

“Why?” His face fell and you hated it.

“I don’t want to put you in any danger. You’ve already done enough for me.”

“I can’t stand around and leave a beautiful dame in danger.”

“Wait? Are you just helping me because you think I’m ‘beautiful’?”

Steve looked incredibly flustered by your sudden outrage.

“No, I wanted to help you. And you just happen to be incredibly beautiful.”

“Nice save, Danny boy.”

“Are you interested in somewhere safe to stay?”

“It’s not your apartment, is it?”

“I think we’d have to be going steady before I’m ready to take you home.”

You chuckled at the phrase. “Good to know where I stand.”

“Come on,” he took your hand and led you down a side street. The boldness of his action surprised you. He had been so reserved until now, this move was unexpected and you loved it. Despite the sweatiness of his palm, you were happy to follow him.

“Where are we going?” you asked.

You didn’t hear his answer as a Chronicom rifle blast missed your face by mere millimeters and hit the side of a building.

Everything after this point happened very quickly. Steve, or Daniel pulled you behind him. His arms raised for a fight. One second he was standing in front of you, the next he was on the floor, out cold having been hit with a stun blast.

“Daniel!” you screamed, your emotions getting the better of you for a moment.

It was suddenly as though your brain had switched to fight mode, it was just you against hunters. May’s training had been grueling but your body now moved flawlessly as you dodged blasts from the rifles, deflecting the energy pulses with your powers until you were close enough to engage in hand to hand combat.  You were able to disarm the hunters and incapacitate them with their own weapons.

You stood in the middle of the street, breathing hard from exertion, rifle in each hand, as it started to rain. The drops struck the street with force, drenching your clothes within minutes

“Daniel!” you patted the unconscious man’s cheek and whispered his name in his ear. “Daniel, wake up!”

The hunters were definitely down for the count, but they traveled in packs and you weren’t sure if the two on the floor had sent out a signal before they shut down. Either way, you didn’t need to be found surrounded by two electronic bodies by the authorities.

Steve groaned, regaining consciousness. 

“Hey, can you get up?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Steve jumped up to his feet. His clothes were already drenched and hair plastered across his face. “Get behind me.” He grabbed your wrist, trying to push you to the side, looking around for the threat. His eyes widened as he spotted the bodies sprawled on the ground.

“We have to go!” You tugged at his sleeve.

“Dottie, what happened?”

“Not now, let’s go!” you urged him to lead the way. “Come on!”

Steve started marching down the alley, away from the Chronicoms with you in tow. Your fast walk turned into a jog, then a full run until you arrived at a large warehouse-like building. Steve stopped in front of a large iron studded door and started fumbling with some keys. You glanced around checking for anyone who might be pursuing you before you and Steve slammed the heavy door closed behind you.

You and Steve both collapsed against the door, panting with exhaustion and relief. As soon as you caught your breath you lay your head on his shoulder.

“Thanks Daniel.”

He didn’t answer. But you noticed a whistling noise coming from his chest. You looked up at Steve’s ashen face and realized that he was still breathing hard. The whistling was actually wheezing.

“Do you have asthma?”

He nodded.

“Got your-” Did they have inhalers in the 1940s? “Got any meds with you?”

He gave you a shake.

You looked around, your heart picked up the pace a little again. Asthma attacks could kill, this was potentially more dangerous than the Chronicoms. You spotted a little kitchenette and armchair with blankets draped across it.

“Come on, get up.”

Steve whined, although it came out as a loud wheeze.

“I know, we’re just going to go over there.” You nodded your head towards the hardback chair and tiny table.

He took the hand you offered him and you supported him across the space. You searched your brain for all the ways to help ease an asthma attack without using inhalers and steroids. As Steve sat down, you noticed that his teeth had started chattering slightly. He must be freezing in this wet clothes, you thought.

“I think you should take off the wet clothes. There are some blankets,” you grabbed one from the sofa a few feet away. “The cold must be triggering your symptoms.”

Steve complied reluctantly, removing his coat and shirt, but kept his undershirt and pants on. You draped a blanket over his shoulders and rubbed his upper arms to try and make him feel warmer.

“Sit up straight. And take deeper breaths. Nice and slow. Like this.” You inhaled slowly and blew out slowly through slightly pursed lips, holding tightly to his shaking hands.

Steve copied you. Once his breathing was a bit more controlled, you told him you were going to make him some coffee. If you remembered correctly, caffeinate was a bronchodilator and a warm drink would really help him warm up.

It wasn’t long before the wheeze had quietened and Steve was looking less gray. His grip on the mug didn’t loosen and he was staring at the steam coming out of the cup but he looked more stable and you felt less anxious about leaving his side.

“Daniel, I’m just going to go and change back into my clothes, they’re still dry. Okay?”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t even look up. So you started walking away.

“Who were those people?"

You didn't answer.

"Did you kill them?” Your silence didn't deter him from asking another question.

“No.” That wasn’t strictly untrue. They’d never been flesh and blood to start with, not alive.

“Who are you?”

“Daniel, please.”

“My name’s not Daniel.”

“I know,” you replied sadly. “But the more I explain, the more I have to tell you and it risks so much. Please, I need you to trust me. I'm not a bad person.”

“What happened to those men?”

“I fought them.”

“If you know how to fight, why were you running away?”

“Because I was scared. I am scared. Of messing things up. I'm not supposed to be here. I've already put you in so much danger. I'm so sorry.”

“You could go to the authorities.”

“The authorities wouldn’t know what to do with these people.”

“Why are you here?”

“Ummm-”

“I mean why are you here in New York? You said your friends were coming to get you. What happens when you leave? Will those people go around hurting anyone else?”

You smiled about the fact that he cared.

“They’ll leave too.”

Steve continued to look at you, trying to analyze your intentions. His piercing blue eyes felt like they were boring into your soul. It sent a chill down your spine and you shivered.

“You should put on your dry clothes. Or you’ll catch a chill.”

You did as you were told. It was a relief to be out of the wet clothes and you instantly felt better. You went back over to where Steve was still nursing his coffee, glancing around the room as you walked.

“I’m sorry, you don’t like it?” you pointed at his mug.

“Too much gives me palpitations.”

You chuckled. “I feel that.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you say the oddest things?”

“Yeah, I’ve déjà’ed that vu.”

Steve stood up, slightly unsteady and wobbled over to the sofa and pulled another blanket over himself.

“Are you still cold?” you asked, going over to sit beside him.

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine.”

You pulled the blanket tighter around his slim torso, shuffling closer, trying to warm him with your own body heat.

“So what happens here?” you asked, waving your arm towards the rest of the room. You were suddenly feeling nervous about how close you were to this man you’d only met earlier that day.

“Art.”

“Art?”

“Yeah, I sometimes do sketches, illustrations for work purposes.”

“You’re an artist?” you smiled. 

“It pays the bills.”

“You’ll have to show me some of your work some time! Maybe?”

“I’d like that.” 

And he smiled. Damp strands of his blonde hair flopped over his eyes. You reached out and brushed them away from his forehead.

“Still cold?”

You leaned in towards him so your shoulder touched his.

“A little.”

His eyes were mesmerizing. His lips looked so soft. You felt an invisible pull towards this stranger who had dropped everything in his life just to help you. Your noses were almost touching and you tilted your head. Steve closed his eyes, you did the same. Just as you thought he would close the space that was left, you heard him gasp and you opened your eyes in time to see him turn his head and sneeze loudly.

He flinched, not wanting to see your reaction. “Sorry.”

“Bless you,” you whispered in his ear.

He turned back to face you, surprised that you hadn’t moved. You were just as close as you had been. He watched intently as your eyes flicked down to his lips, it made you blush. It wasn’t often that you had to make the first move, you didn’t have the nerve. There was always a first time for everything.

“May I kiss you?” you asked.

He nodded nervously and you smiled, giving in to the pull he had on you. It was slow, he was unsure, but you could taste the coffee on his lips. You took the lead, his lips were soft and his breath felt hot on yours. His eyes remained closed the entire time. It was short, you didn’t want him to feel pressured or overwhelmed. As you moved away, your nose brushed his gently and he opened his eyes to look at you and it was your turn to feel flustered. This time it was Steve who reached out and took your hand.

“Thank you.”

You grinned back at him bashfully, not wanting him to let go of your hand. Both of you sat in a comfortable silence until Steve’s head started sagging on your shoulder.

“Hey sleepyhead, you should get some sleep. It’s late.”

Steve jumped up, the blanket across his lap falling to the floor.

“You can take the davenport.”

You assumed he meant the sofa. “We can take it in turns. I think you should go first. I’m not in the mood to sleep yet.”

You were lying. You were tired, but he looked exhausted.

“Are you sure, Dottie?”

You smiled, he finally used your pseudonym. Steve was definitely feeling the weariness. Even though you’d known him for less than a day, you could tell he wasn’t the unchivalrous type. He would give up the sofa in a heartbeat had you asked.

“I’m sure. Thanks Daniel.”

He handed you a blanket. “I’ll take this one. You need to stay warm too.” Steve kicked off his shoes and curled up on one corner.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” You pointed at the other end.

“Of course not.”

You made yourself comfortable, wrapped in the blanket which now smelt distinctly of the man beside you. It made you feel calm and relaxed. Your mind told you sleep wasn’t wise, but your body had other ideas and you fell into a light slumber.

You woke up with a start, groggy from your sleep. Your phone buzzed again and you silently thanked Fitz for having upgraded your battery giving it a week’s lifespan. It was time to leave. You could tell it was still dark outside, and Steve was still out cold beside you.

You picked up your phone and texted the team. “Send me the location. I’m on my way.”

There wasn’t time for a long protracted goodbye. The Zephyr One jumps were getting more and more erratic, which is how you’d ended up in this situation in the first place. If you woke him, there would be more questions. If you left a note, there was only evidence of your presence. 

You climbed off your seat cautiously, trying not to make any sudden movements, then pulled on your boots. He looked so peaceful but you wished you could see his eyes one last time. You shook your head, trying to push away the sentimentality. It had been a day, you’d known him for less than a day, you couldn’t be this mushy. May would be disgusted by your behavior. You ought to leave. You were going to leave.

You dropped to your knees and leant over the sleeping Steve. You stroked the hair away from face and pressed a chaste kiss on his forehead. He felt hot, hotter than you'd expected. There was a flush on his cheek. Did he have a fever?

You were about to put your hand on his forehead when he stirred. You froze, not wanting to risk waking him. The buzzing of your phone called your attention, you needed to leave now. You didn't want to leave him vulnerable and alone but ultimately you couldn't stay. You got up quietly and padded over to the door. It locked automatically when the door was shut. Good. He would be safe from anyone trying to enter.

You slipped out of the door, closing it behind you. Then you started running hoping that no one would stop you. 

"Wait, I can't believe this! It was real? It was you?" Bucky asked incredulously.

"Yeah," you sighed.

​​

[the-invisibility-bloke]

001 harry potter/albus Severus Potter

WHAT I was not prepared. I have not met any Halbus shippers on Tumblr. We need to talk, my friend. Okay.

-

001 | send me a ship and I will tell you:

when I started shipping it if I did: I. Don’t know. It was sometime early this year and it may have been this classic but that one's not very Pottercest focused so more likely something I just ran across randomly. It’s funny because. My friend was trying to get me into Orion/Regulus and I tried, man, I did (I even wrote one for her birthday, as you can see I had to pad it with Starcest for my own well-being XD) but ultimately I kept insisting “I just can’t get into parent/child.” LOL, cute. Turns out I just needed the right parent/child to drag me in. Enter Harry/Al.

my thoughts: My thoughts have been fueled by a lot of Chardonnay but listen. I take Cursed Child canon with several grains of salt. I use what I like and discard the rest. The idea of Albus as a Slytherin who resents the fact that he’s expected to not only live up to but exceed his father’s legacy and the fact that the whole world sees his sorting as a handicap is so fucking golden because of course he would grow to resent Harry, it’s middle child syndrome on steroids, you’ve got James Sirius who is basically James Potter OG, popular and athletic and probably a bit of a prick (which tbh makes for some prime Al/James shipping but I digress), and Albus who is... good at potions? (Fanon, yes, but well done because of course he’d excel at the thing Harry hated.) What I love about CC is that it creates a very plausible conflict dynamic between them and what I hate about CC is that it completely cheapens that beautiful dynamic by portraying Harry as a tone-deaf bumbling idiot of a father and no. I’m not buying it. He’s a bit thick but he would make every effort to be the most conscientious parent who truly works to relate to all of his children and make them feel valued for exactly who they are. Again, I digress, but if we accept this dynamic on a broad scale and ignore the minutiae, it creates this lovely scenario of James S. being more Lily’s kid and Albus being more Harry’s kid and everything changing when Al goes to Hogwarts and sorts Slytherin and learns what everyone else thinks of his father and befriends the kid of his dad’s nemesis and thus eventually sheds that daddy’s-boy skin and Harry just being heartbroken about it but not really knowing how to win him back.

What makes me happy about them: I think at their core they are so, so very alike which is why the conflict exists in the first place. I think they share the same sense of humour, the same ideological passions, the same deeply sensitive core, the same need for that desperate hungry all-consuming love that Harry hasn’t had since Sirius and Albus had but never quite trusted because he always felt like an outcast and he was probably always a bit jealous of James and definitely jealous of Teddy (...rightfully so but NEVER MIND). So they are a bit Drarry in the sense that they both need the same things but are coming at it from wildly different angles, so lots of room for conflict and misinterpretation. Yay. :)

What makes me sad about them: I mean, well, if they carry on long-term, they will never be able to flourish, they will never be able to hold hands in public, they will be imprisoned in secrecy the rest of their lives, and Harry will suffer unbearable guilt over that because all he wants is for his children to have the normalcy he never did, regardless of how many times Albus assures him he doesn’t give a fuck about normal. I think they also both have the potential to truly wound each other because of the depth of their love and their volatile personalities. They both have a temper and they both need each other so desperately that one misstep can leave them feeling very unstable. They very much know how to push each other’s buttons which can lead to a very toxic albeit passionate relationship.

things done in fanfic that annoys me: Eh, don’t want to offend any fellow writers.

things I look for in fanfic: Canon compliant/adjacent is always my preference; as with most cross-gen/incest I prefer Al to be the instigator and for Harry to suffer the Burden of Unfathomable Guilt™. I love bratty but intelligent Al who just literally does not give 0.5 shits about social mores and, hey, if his dad is fit af and the only person who truly gets him and makes him feel safe and protected and cherished, why shouldn’t they get it on.

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: Scorpius is probably the best choice for Al, but I’m a guilty Dralbus and Drarry/Scorbus OT4 shipper. I also love the idea of Harry/Albus/Teddy, i.e. Harry/Teddy are together but when Albus finds out he gets wildly jealous because he always had a crush on Teddy and Harry is his daddy, tyvm, so all the feelings get muddled and Teddy’s the one to eventually invite him in and mediate to help Al and Harry realize their feelings for each other.

My happily ever after for them: Best case scenario, they have to hide forever. They’re not exactly a happily ever after ship. :/

who is the big spoon/little spoon: Daddy is the big spoon. :))) But but but also I think Harry still occasionally has nightmares or just needs some of that cuddly comfort he never got as a kid, when work gets really stressful etc., and he’d never vocalize it, never admit it, but Al is very attuned to that need for occasional role reversal and knows when to simply hold him and stroke his hair and tell him everything is going to be okay.

what is their favorite non-sexual activity: I think they bond over films and music and maybe dueling. Lots of Muggle things, I think Al is curious about that world because he’s curious in general, which makes Harry feel relevant because that’s what he grew up with, and none of his other kids or friends (besides Hermione) really relates to it.

[rabbitcruiser]

Freemark Abbey Winery, St. Helena (No. 2)

In 1939, three businessmen from Southern California, Albert "Abbey" Ahern, Charles Freeman and Markquand Foster purchased Lombarda Cellars. Together they reopened the winery and renamed it Freemark Abbey (a combination which includes a portion of each partner's name). During the 1940s and 1950s the partners sold the majority of their wines to retail outlets in San Francisco. The winery went through several hands in the early 1960s before being purchased by a group of seven partners in 1966. After the purchase, the new owners made major improvements to the facility.[2] This core group owned the winery until 2001 when they sold it to The Legacy Estate Group. In March 2005 the Legacy Estate Group overreached and tried to consolidate Arrowood and Byron into one group. Eight months later, in November 2005, the Legacy Estate group went bankrupt and sold its assets in an auction. Freemark Abbey is now a part of Jackson Family Wines, which is owned by the family of the late Jess Jackson.

The winery won the New York Wine Tasting of 1973, a wine competition of 23 California, New York, and French Chardonnays. The blind tasting brought together 14 wine experts, including France's Alexis Lichine. Freemark Abbey Winery achieved international recognition when it achieved sixth place in the historic Judgment of Paris, placing ahead of two French and two other California wines.

Source: Wikipedia

[trilobiter]

The previous owners of our house were big wine people, and it was plainly evident from their decor on our first visit. We moved in two and a half years ago, and our understanding is that they moved to Portugal, where I imagine there is some fantastic wine, but the mark of their lifestyle is still visible on the house. We still have a bunch of decorative bottles they left behind. There are windows that still have decorative grape stickers.

A couple of months ago, I was clearing out a corner of the garage I hadn't gotten around to clearing yet. There I discovered another part of their legacy: a bottle of Chardonnay. This bottle had been sitting on the floor of the garage for at least two years, through three cold winters and two (very) hot summers. It was unopened, but it was also sitting mere feet from a stack of old paint cans.

Anyway, we call it the floor wine. We're a little over halfway through the bottle now. It's not excellent.

[xpeachesimsx]

Generation 1 Family Photo - Isaac (Founder), Naomi (Mate), Julian (Gen 2 Heir), Ally, Dustin, Eli, Emma, Layla

ISAAC DONOVAN - I

After retiring as a firefighter when he gets to level 10, Isaac wishes to live the rest of his remaining days fishing and training horses. He would have literally come full circle from his first day in Riverview. He never got to be a doctor, but that is okay. He knows that one of his children will one day carry on and fulfill that ambition long after he is gone. His Sci Fi novel was not even his greatest accomplishment in life. Rather, it was his marriage to his beautiful wife Naomi, and his 6 spectacular children. He has planted a seed with the beginning of this family, and he is all too sure that Naomi will keep the torch alive after he is gone. He will die a very, very happy man. *tear.

Isaac remains celebrated with a Firefighter Trophy of Honor, a science fiction novel, an autobiography, and a racing trophy that he won with his horse Chardonnay.

NAOMI DONOVAN

Naomi testifies that she has lived the most fulfilling and content life in her marriage to Isaac. He was a perfect husband and much, much more. Through the trials of earning to make a decent living , she has never felt more secure and more loved by a man than she did with Isaac Donovan. She is proud and honored to have carried and raised each of his six amazing children alongside him. Even though it put her body through so much strain, she would jump at the opportunity to do it all over again. She blushes at the thought of working alongside this man as a Firefighter for over a decade, she honors their memories together, and her best day remains the day they eloped and instinctively got themselves married at city hall in the peak night of winter. 

Naomi remains celebrated as the most loyal legacy wife, the first legacy wife, the role model for every future mate that would join the family, and a beloved mother and best friend to six children.

[lizzybeth1986]

Petals and Thornes - Side Stories

As a series, Petals and Thornes focuses on the friendship - and later, love - blossoming between Hana Lee and Kiara Thorne during the engagement tour of the newly-crowned King Liam and Countess Madeleine.

The story is largely canon-compliant in some of the story beats, but I make significant changes to accommodate questions I've had about canon itself. Some of the times, those changes include or explore the stories of other characters in the series, but including them in the series proper would mean taking the story away from Hana and Kiara. So this is the space where I explore those characters and their side-stories, through one-shots and miniseries.

Right now only Liam and Esther have side stories, but I have a few plans for Drake and Maxwell in the P&T series too.

Esther

Keychains: Esther | Liam

In the aftermath of the Coronation, and the scandal that robbed Liam and Esther of their chance to be together, what do the two lovers cling to in their time of grief?

Masks

Dressing for Cordonia's first event of the social season - the Masquerade Ball - has Esther walking down memory lane. Set in Chapter 2 of TRR1.

When the Sun Kisses the Sea

Esther and Liam spend a magical evening at the beach. Set after the Forgotten Falls scene and before Constantine talks to Liam at the end of Ch 10 of TRR1

Three and a Half Weeks (miniseries)

Esther DuPont has three and a half weeks in Ramsford. Three and a half weeks to prepare for her return to court, three and a half weeks to get over the man she thought she was going to marry, the friends she thought would be at her side.

Three and a half weeks...to make peace with the way she left.

(Coming soon!)

Headcanons

Esther Noelle DuPont: Character Sheet

Liam

Eleanor's Kitchen (series)

Join little Prince Liam as he watches his mother, and her friends, experience the foods that remind them the most of their homes...as he enjoys the delights of good food and great friendships.

Bedtime Baklava

In her first few months as Queen, Regina Amaranth bonds with her youngest stepson over an unlikely sweet.

Cordonian Waltz

Box step, reverse, spin, twirl. A mere arrangement of dance steps. Until you came along, that was all Liam ever imagined the Cordonian Waltz to be.

Our Sword of Damocles

Barely seconds after becoming king, Liam faces his first ever crisis in court - a scandal that results in his chosen bride being disgraced and thrown out. Is his final decision a wise one that will protect her, or an act of cowardice? A former monarch helps him find the answer.

That Old Grape Juice: Cabernet Franc | Chardonnay

As Liam and Olivia renew their friendship during his social season, how do they deal with the changes they see in each other? Set in the Lythikos chapters of TRR1.

Legacies (miniseries): The Statues | The Queens

In the aftermath of his father's death, Liam struggles with the lionizing of Constantine's rule, and wonders at the legacy he wants to leave behind. Answers emerge from an unlikely source.

(To be updated soon!)

Headcanons

Coping Strategies, Food and Fashion HCs

The Children of the House of Rys

[thebawdybaldurian]

BG3FicFeb Day 23

SFW: A peek into Tav’s younger days, as she prepares to become the chaotic, horny bard of legend.

NSFW: When Tav returns to Halsin, covered in fang marks, he decides to one-up his vampiric lover by unleashing his inner beast

SFW: A day in the life of Tav’s childhood

Background: Before she was known as Tav or Chardonnay Brandywine, she was Clataedre Calthrenis (aka Addy), a young high elf born to sorcerer parents.

Addy walked home from school beaming, holding a loosely bound stack of paper. ‘Best in the class, you have a real talent for writing’ was written across the top. She’d spent hours refining the class assignment, more engaged in this project than any other before. She did well in all her other studies, if she could manage to pay attention, but this was something she had actually enjoyed finishing. She couldn’t wait to show her parents the story she had written.

They were both in their study, as they usually were, pouring over arcane literature or experimenting with spells. They were two of the best Evokers in Neverwinter, meeting and marrying quite quickly while attending the arcane academy. It was more of a mutual arrangement than a romantic partnership, but they did manage to have one child, despite the lower rate of Elven births. Their daughter would be the culmination of their combined magical legacy. As such, she was expected to practice spell casting as often as she could, sometimes to the detriment of her other studies.

Her parents barely noticed when she entered the room, her smile still wide. “How was school, Addy?” Her father asked, carefully stirring a potion with a Mage Hand.

“My teacher liked my story the best out of the entire class,” Addy proudly held her work up.

“What story?” Her mother replied, forming a small ice crystal in her hand. She began manipulating it with her other hand, barely paying any attention to her daughter.

“The one I have been working on for a month.”

“Time better spent mastering your Thunderwave spell, in my opinion,” her mother continued her manipulation. “Honestly, what is that school teaching you? The sooner you are enrolled in the arcane academy, the better. You are grown now, you shouldn’t be wasting your time writing fancies.”

“I like this school,” Addy frowned, wishing they would show interest in anything other than magic. “They teach me a lot of different things.”

“No harm being well rounded,” her father added, finishing with the potion and giving it a sniff.

“Addy, Jorgan should have lunch prepared for you. Tell him to come in here so I can test this potion when you find him. You can start on your studies after.”

Addy’s shoulder’s slumped, expecting perhaps the slightest bit of pride from her parents. She’d worked so hard on this story and they didn’t even care. She went to find their sorcerer’s apprentice, who was little more than a glorified servant and test subject, receiving only the benefit of room and board with some magical instruction. She hated the young elf, only a few years older than her, who frequently gave her creepy looks and put in the least amount of effort in the meals he was forced to prepare for her. She found him leaned over the kitchen counter, talking to someone through a well hidden sending stone.

“I could probably finger you with my Mage Hand from here,” he whispered, clearly talking to some new love interest. Addy cleared her throat, letting him know she was there. “What do you want?” He sighed, hiding the stone in his pocket.

“Just grabbing my lunch,” she pulled the cloche off the plate that sat on the counter. It was some amalgamation of vegetables and charred meat. “It’s burnt,” she scrunched her nose.

“Fix it with a Prestidigitation Spell then,” he sassed her, slipping into the pantry to continue his lurid conversation.

“My father has a new potion for you,” she made a rude gesture at him, hoping the potion made his cock fall off, and took the plate up to her bedroom, her only sanctuary from both him and her parents.

She sat on the floor, fixing the meat with the simple cantrip, and ate while she re-read the story she’d written. It was an adventure about a halfling who find a magical artifact and travels all across Faerun. She’d stared at map for hours, picking out interesting sounding places for her heroine to visit. There was nothing she wanted more than to escape her house, escape Neverwinter, and escape the pressures of magic. She wanted to have fun, be known, be loved.

She eventually let out a long sigh, tossing the story into the pile of accomplishments her parents couldn’t care less about. She reached under her bed to grab her private journal, something no one would ever read. It was full of her dreams and desires and short little stories about the life she wanted to have. She began to write something new, something she desired more than anything.

‘I want to meet a handsome man who sweeps me off my feet, takes me on an adventure, and then marries me, giving me lots of children.’

She scribbled out the last bit. No, that was the fantasy of little girls and she was pretty much a woman now. She didn’t want any other child to have to live like she had, even her own. She couldn’t wait to get out of this house and never look back. She was supposed to begin at the arcane academy next year, but she knew in her heart she would hate in more than anything. She wanted to write, to travel, to be free, to finally be loved.

She’d met a young bard a few months ago, hanging up flyers for the local college around her school. They’d talked and flirted shyly, the bard giving her her first kiss, that had left her in a daze for a tenday. She could never have anything like that at the arcane college. Their fraternization policy was incredibly strict. She needed to explore everything, including herself, wondering how angry her parents would be if she enrolled in the bard’s college instead.

NSFW: Marking

Background: When Tav returns to Halsin, covered in fang marks, he decides to one-up his vampiric lover by unleashing his inner beast. (That story is already written for one of the last prompts 😄)

Content and Warnings: Female elf x male elf. Semi-public sex, marking, biting, oral sex, PIV sex, cum play, masturbation.

Tav and Astarion returned to the Elfsong Tavern, rejoining their companions after spending the night at Tav’s cottage. It was an unusually hot spring day, but Tav was wearing a long-sleeved dress and a silk scarf tied around her neck. Astarion had ravaged her the night before, leaving her covered neck to ankle in bite marks. She was a little sore and tired from their vigorous lovemaking/blood drinking session, but she’d loved every second of it. She was already sweating from their brief walk through the Lower City by the time they arrived.

She found Halsin out on the balcony, enjoying the warmer weather lounged on a wooden chaise, in just a pair of shorts. He would have prefered to be fully nude, sparing his companions the awkwardness. “Hello, my heart,” he grinned up at her, shielding his eyes from the sun.

“Hi, love,” Tav felt a hot flush spread across her body, the shorts leaving little to the imagination.

She could see the outline of his flaccid, but still thick cock, his balls resting on his thick, muscular thighs. His golden skin glistened slightly from the mix of sweat and body oil he applied to his skin to keep his body hair soft and supple.

“Join me,” he added, patting the chaise beside him, looking her up and down. “Though perhaps you’d like to change first? You must be sweltering.”

“A little,” she blushed, pulling at the scarf around her neck. She untied it, revealing the two bites marks on either side of her throat.

“You and Astarion enjoyed yourselves, I take it?” He grinned as she climbed onto the chaise next to him. He leaned over to kiss her neck, nuzzling against the tiny red wounds.

“A little too much, I think,” she blushed even deeper, unlacing the top of her dress so she could get some air on her chest. The top of her breasts had bite marks on them as well.

“I see,” he gently caressed his hand down her neck, giving one of her breasts a squeeze. He reached down for the hem of her dress, pulling it up to her knees as he kissed her. “How many times did he bite you?” He looked down at the marks that trailed up her legs as well.

“I lost count,” she blushed even deeper. “You’re not mad, are you? That he marked me so much?”

“Definitely not mad,” he glanced down at his growing arousal, already bulging out of his loose shorts. “Perhaps jealous he got to taste so much of your skin,” he pulled her dress higher, revealing the many bites on her thighs.

“You could as well,” she let out a quiet sigh as he bent down to kiss her thighs. He spread them apart, nuzzling and kissing the soft, unmarred flesh in between the bite marks. “Ohhh,” she let out a little yelp as he bit roughly into her inner thigh. He didn’t break the skin, but it would bruise her delicate flesh quickly. He reached up to tug on the top of her underpants, the scent of her own growing arousal too much for him. “Halsin,” she bit her lip, looking back to make sure she’d shut the door to that led inside. “What if someone comes out?”

“Let them,” he slid her underpants down, lifting her hips to get them off. “They can watch me reclaim you,” he pressed his mouth to her clit at once, sending a shock up her spine.

“Gods!” Her legs trembled as his tongue probed her, his hands spreading her thighs wider.

He licked and nibbled on her, letting his mouth drift down her other thigh for a moment to bit her there. He brought her to climax quickly, his hunger for her making her bite into her own flesh to keep her moans quiet. He left more rough bites on her outer thighs, nibbling past her knees and then left a few bites on each of her calves. She’d unlaced her dress by now, leaving it completely open in the front. He looked over her with a smile, watching as she rubbed her fingers against her clit. “I need to mount you,” she hissed, staring down at the cock protruding through his shorts.

The wet spot of pre-cum spread wide across them. He grinned and climbed beside her again, his cock spilling out of his shorts effortlessly. She straddled him quickly, rubbing her slit against him as she checked the door again. There would be no way to hide her riding his cock if someone should come out. “Fuck!” She arched her back as he guided himself inside her, eager to feel her around him. She’d already opened completely for his sizable member, not needing any slow warmup to begin riding his cock quickly and urgently.

His mouth went straight to her breasts, his wide mouth biting just above Astarion’s teeth marks. The chaise creaked underneath them, their sweat beading together and dripping between the wooden slats. She slowed her hips for only a moment, pulling her dress off completely, leaving her fully nude and completely exposed. Anyone looking up at a certain angle from the street below would be able to see them, but she didn’t care. She wanted him so much, his hunger for her making her want him even more. He moved up to her neck, sucking on her sensitive flesh, leaving hickeys up and down her throat.

“Gods…fuck…uhhhhnnn,” she pressed her face into his chest as she came again, muffling her moans against the musky dew of his skin. He bucked his hips with her, close to his own climax. “Wait,” she breathed heavily, slowly circling her hips around him as he grunted with need. “I skipped my tincture this month, so Astarion could drink my moon blood…you probably shouldn’t come in me.”

“Okay,” he nodded, moving her hips against him a little more. He knew her thoughts on children, and as unlikely as it would be to impregnate her given their Elven heritage and his perceived infertility, he would always comply with her wishes.

She climbed off of him, returning to her original position on the chaise, rubbing and circling her hands around her breasts, ready to take his seed all over her. “Yes, my big bear, come here,” she purred at him as he straddled her, keeping his hips high so he could fuck her tits. He took control of her breasts, pressing them together with the right amount of friction and allowing her to finger herself to a third climax. “Please…yeah…oh, cover me in it,” she begged, staring up a him looming over her.

He’d been so close before, it didn’t take long for him to spread across her neck and chest, his growl echoing across the neighborhood. Their companions inside, all occupied with other things, each raised a curious eyebrow, Astarion hiding a wide grin as well. “Mmmmm fuck,” Tav squealed, vibrating from her final climax as he huffed above her. She reached her slick fingers up to slid his copious seed across her skin, drawing them up her neck to her lips so she could taste a bit of him.

“You are so beautiful,” he grinned widely, resting on his heels, watching as she slicked his cum all over herself. “You make me feral,” he leaned down to kiss her. “Do you mind if I transform and lick you clean?”

“Maybe later,” she teased, sliding her hand up his chest again, getting more of his scent on her. “I want to smell like you for a bit.”

He let out a low growl, kissing her deeply before returning to her side. They lounged in the sun for a bit, their fingers softly caressing each other’s thighs. Astarion eventually ventured out, curious as a cat as to what exactly they’d gotten up to out on the balcony. He grinned widely when he found the pair both glistening in the sun, fully nude. He could smell them both, his loins beginning to tingle. He hadn’t done anything other than kiss Halsin up until now, but felt himself getting closer to taking things further. “I didn’t know we had a nude beach going on out here,” he teased as Tav opened her eyes to see who was blocking her light.

“You’re welcome to join us,” she grinned, watching as his eyes drifted down her body, seeing all the new bite marks and hickeys Halsin had left on her. He leaned down to kiss her, Halsin’s scents heavy on her skin. It made him stir even more, his eyes glancing to Halsin, who was already blushing deeply.

“I can cover up,” Halsin sat up, reaching for his discarded shorts.

“No need,” Astarion smiled, unbuttoning his pants and untucking his shirt. “We might as well all enjoy the sun as nature intended.”

There was barely enough room on the wooden lounger for the three of them, Astarion making his way to the opposite side of Halsin as he undressed. Tav propped herself up on her elbow, watching as he stripped, his cock still flaccid, but excitedly pink. He had more self control than she did apparently. He climbed beside Halsin, stretching the beautiful pale of his skin out in the early afternoon sun. He propped himself up on his elbow as well, looking them both over. “We’ve done quite a number on her, haven’t we, druid?” His eyes continued to scan her glistening, but marred flesh.

“Indeed we have,” Halsin’s blush deepened. “I am pleased we can share her so throughly.”

“I was thinking,” Astarion pulled Halsin’s face towards him to give him a gentle kiss, only releasing his lips when he knew any longer would make him aroused. “We might soon share her…together. Once we deal with this damn brain, of course.”

“I’d like that very much,” Tav blushed, feeling an anticipatory pulse between her thighs.

As much as she loved their playful competition to own and mark her body, having them both, and seeing them together as well, stirred something deep inside her very core. Her nectar oozed from her just thinking about it, her thighs shifting to quell the sensation for now. They remained lounged in the sun together for while, before thirst and hunger drove the living elves inside. Between Halsin’s scents all over her and the thought of soon having them both at the same time, Tav grabbed a quick bite and then headed to a bath.

She was practically trembling by the time she climbed in, her fingers going to her cunt immediately. She finally washed her lover from her skin as she slowly fingered herself, her toes gripped into the edge of the tub as she braced herself with her feet. She thought about having both of them at once and watching them together, eager to see the stark contrast of their sizes. She caressed the fingers of her free hand across the marks of their desires, her hunger for them just as needful. She would face down the Netherbrain herself if need be, to allow herself more time with them. Each tender wound was a reminder of how much so wanted to give herself over to them completely. She loved them both more than anything.

She swallowed her moans, letting her other hand drift between her thighs as well, driving her towards yet another climax. Her joy couldn’t be contained, her voice crying out loudly, trying to form it into a song so her companions didn’t have to hear her a second time today. She continued to sing, her legs trembling against the tub, creating her first composition dedicated to her lovers. She quickly collected herself and dried off, finding a sheet of paper to write the notes down immediately. Astarion sought her out again, his superior hearing catching all of her song. “Perhaps we should stay at your cottage from now on?” he brushed up behind her, her robed frame bent over a table to write. “To spare our friends the opera.”

“Hmm, that would probably be best,” she chuckled, scribbling down the last of her notations. “Do you remember how the last part went?” She grinned, knowing he had likely heard it all.

He wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling his face into her neck. He hummed the last part of her spontaneous melody, swaying his body with hers as he did. She scribbled down the final notes, setting her pen down and placing her hands on top of his. “I’m glad you have such a good ear,” she closed her eyes, still swaying with him in silence.

“Your voice still makes my skin tingle, every time,” he spun her around, holding her just as close and kissing her deeply. He led her in a simple dance, his body guiding hers as she picked up the steps almost instantly.

“You know, I was always the entertainment at those fancy balls, but I wanted nothing more than to dance with someone,” she looked up at him.

“I’ll happily take you someday,” he stopped his steps, dipping her into an even deeper kiss. Their impending fight with the Netherbrain so near, he couldn’t help but fantasize about a life with her afterwards, their chances of survival so slim. “Will you sing that song for me again…tonight?” He smiled at her when their lips finally parted.

“How about we write a new one?” She pulled him in for another kiss.

[wine1]

Coonawarra Wineries: Where Tradition Meets Terroir

Introduction: The Vinicultural Marvel of Coonawarra Wineries

Nestled in the picturesque Limestone Coast of South Australia, Coonawarra stands as a beacon of vinicultural excellence. Its wineries, perched on the terra rossa soil, are not just places to taste exquisite wines; they are sanctuaries where tradition, passion, and terroir converge. Coonawarra wineries offer a profound exploration into the art of winemaking, inviting enthusiasts to revel in the flavors and aromas that define this unique region.

The Terroir of Coonawarra: Nature’s Canvas for Fine Wines

Coonawarra's terroir is its greatest asset. The vibrant red soil, a blend of clay and limestone, imparts a distinct minerality to the grapes grown here. Coupled with a cool maritime climate, this terroir becomes the canvas upon which winemakers paint their masterpieces. The Cabernet Sauvignon, in particular, thrives in this environment, producing wines of unparalleled depth and complexity. The unique characteristics of Coonawarra wines are a testament to this extraordinary marriage between soil and climate.

The Legacy of Coonawarra Winemakers: Artisans of Flavor

The winemakers of Coonawarra are not just cultivators; they are guardians of a rich legacy. Families have passed down their winemaking traditions through generations, each bottle a testament to years of expertise and dedication. Whether it's crafting bold Cabernets or delicate Chardonnays, these artisans infuse every drop with the essence of their land and heritage. Each winery carries a unique story, blending history with innovation, and offering a glimpse into the passionate world of Coonawarra winemaking.

Varietals: A Symphony of Tastes and Aromas

Coonawarra wineries boast an impressive array of varietals, each a tribute to the region's versatility and skill. The Cabernet Sauvignon, rightfully the flagship grape, is a bold revelation of blackcurrant, mint, and spice. Shiraz, with its deep plum and peppery notes, offers a robust alternative. Merlot, with its velvety texture and plum undertones, caters to those with a preference for softer reds. The whites, especially Chardonnay, add a touch of elegance with their citrus and melon nuances. Every varietal from Coonawarra is a testament to the region's mastery of the grapevine.

Cellar Doors and Tasting Experiences: A Sojourn for the Senses

Visiting a Coonawarra cellar door is akin to embarking on a sensory voyage. The lush vineyards, neatly rowed and basking in the Australian sun, set the stage for an unforgettable experience. Inside, wine enthusiasts are greeted by knowledgeable sommeliers who guide them through tastings of the finest vintages. These encounters are not just about the wines; they are conversations about the land, the grape, and the meticulous craftsmanship that goes into every bottle. It's an education in every sip, a communion with the very essence of Coonawarra.

Sustainable Practices: Nurturing Nature for Future Generations

Coonawarra winemakers recognize their responsibility towards the environment. Many wineries have adopted sustainable practices, embracing organic viticulture, water conservation, and eco-friendly initiatives. These efforts are not only a testament to their dedication to preserving the land but also a pledge to produce wines that are as responsible as they are delightful. Coonawarra's commitment to sustainability ensures that future generations can continue to revel in the region's vinicultural wonders.

Culinary Adventures: Pairing Perfection

Coonawarra wineries offer more than just wines; they invite guests on a culinary odyssey. Many estates boast exquisite restaurants where gourmet chefs create menus that harmonize seamlessly with the wines. From decadent cheese platters that elevate the tasting experience to meticulously crafted multi-course meals, the food and wine pairings in Coonawarra are a celebration of flavors. Each dish complements the wines, enhancing both the food and the drink and offering an epicurean delight for the senses.

Conclusion: Raising a Glass to Coonawarra’s Vinous Heritage

In the lush vineyards of Coonawarra, every grape carries a legacy, every bottle tells a story. Raising a glass of Coonawarra wine is not just a toast; it's a salute to generations of winemakers who have transformed humble grapes into liquid poetry. It's an acknowledgment of the land, the climate, and the passion that breathe life into every vintage. Coonawarra wineries are not just producers of wine; they are creators of memories, encapsulating the essence of a region where tradition meets terroir in every exquisite sip.

[global-analysis]

Raise a Glass to Perfection: Discover the Finest Wine Brands in India

India, known for its rich cultural heritage and diverse culinary traditions, is now making its mark in the world of wines. With a growing appreciation for the art of winemaking, Indian wine brands have emerged as the epitome of excellence. From lush vineyards nestled in picturesque regions to expert craftsmanship, these top wine brands in India are capturing the hearts of wine connoisseurs across the globe.

Sula Vineyards: As one of the pioneers of the Indian wine industry, Sula Vineyards has revolutionized the perception of Indian wines. Their wide range of offerings, including Sauvignon Blanc, Shiraz, and Chenin Blanc, showcases the remarkable potential of the Nashik region.

Grover Zampa Vineyards: With a legacy spanning over three decades, Grover Zampa Vineyards is renowned for its exceptional craftsmanship and attention to detail. From their exquisite reds like La Réserve and Art Collection to the elegant whites such as Viognier and Sauvignon Blanc, every bottle tells a story of passion and expertise.

Fratelli Vineyards: Combining Italian heritage with Indian terroir, Fratelli Vineyards has created a unique range of wines that embody elegance and finesse. From the vibrant Sette to the velvety Sangiovese, their collection offers a delightful journey for the senses.

York Winery: Nestled in the serene landscapes of Nashik, York Winery captures the essence of the region in every bottle. Known for their award-winning sparkling wines and robust reds like Arros and Cabernet Sauvignon, York Winery is a testament to India's growing reputation in the wine world.

Four Seasons Wines: Crafted with precision and passion, Four Seasons Wines presents a wide array of varietals that cater to every palate. From their refreshing Chenin Blanc to the rich Merlot and Shiraz, each sip promises an extraordinary experience.

Charosa Vineyards: Located in the breathtaking Dindori region of Maharashtra, Charosa Vineyards produces wines that reflect the unique terroir of the area. Their offerings, including the sophisticated Reserve Tempranillo and the crisp Sauvignon Blanc, showcase the immense potential of this emerging wine region.

Chandon India: With a legacy rooted in the famous Champagne house Moët & Chandon, Chandon India brings the essence of celebration to Indian wine enthusiasts. From their sparkling wines like Brut and Rosé to the delightful Délice, Chandon India is synonymous with luxury and elegance.

Myra Vineyards: Known for their innovative winemaking techniques, Myra Vineyards offers a range of distinctive wines that captivate the senses. From the vibrant Misfit to the velvety Reserve Shiraz, their portfolio pushes the boundaries of traditional Indian wines.

Reveilo Wines: Nestled in the serene landscapes of Nashik, Reveilo Wines crafts wines that embody elegance and finesse. From their award-winning Cabernet Sauvignon to the refreshing Chenin Blanc, each bottle reflects the dedication and passion of the winemakers.

KRSMA Estates: Situated in the picturesque Hampi Hills of Karnataka, KRSMA Estates produces limited-edition wines that epitomize exclusivity and sophistication. Their meticulously crafted wines, such as the robust Cabernet Sauvignon and the elegant Chardonnay, are a true testament to the art of winemaking.

As the Indian wine industry continues to evolve, these top wine brands showcase the incredible growth and potential of the country's winemaking scene. Whether you're a wine enthusiast or a curious novice, exploring the exquisite offerings of these Indian wine brands promises a journey of taste, culture, and sheer excellence. So, raise a glass and toast to the perfection found in every sip of these exceptional wines from India.

[simgerale]

vikram doesn't take kindly to dumb jokes apparently. arlie is unfazed by the obvious distaste he has for her, as she has never failed to befriend someone.

arlie's impression of her new acquaintance under the cut:

[sokolblosserwinery]

Sokol Blosser Winery

Sokol Blosser Winery

Sokol Blosser Winery is a family-owned and operated vineyard nestled in the heart of Oregon’s renowned Dundee Hills. Since 1971, we’ve been committed to crafting world-class wines that reflect the character of our land and sustainable farming practices. As one of Oregon’s wine pioneers, we blend tradition with innovation, producing exceptional Pinot Noir, Chardonnay, and other varietals. Our tasting room offers an inviting space to explore our award-winning wines while enjoying stunning vineyard views. At Sokol Blosser, we honor our legacy by continually evolving, focusing on quality, sustainability, and creating memorable experiences. Visit us to discover the heart and soul of Oregon wine country.

“Our story began in 1971 when our parents, Susan Sokol and Bill Blosser, first planted vines in the now-famous Dundee Hills of Oregon’s Willamette Valley.

Wine Tasting Willamette Valley

As second generation winegrowers, we are passionately committed to our family’s legacy of creating world-class wines. Our wines are made from organic grapes, crafted sustainably with the environment at the forefront of our minds, that express the distinctive flavors of our hillside vineyards.“

-Alex & Alison Sokol Blosser Siblings, Co-Presidents, and Second Generation Winegrowers

From the start, the Sokol Blosser family was aware of the impact that farming and wine production would have on the environment. Before it was popular, the winery did everything it could to give back to the land. The Sokol Blossers knew preserving the land would help the winery remain family-owned for generations to come.

Being good to the earth – farming, buying and building through the lens of sustainability – is really about paying attention to and respecting the details. We believe this is the only way to make the best wines. 

Wineries Near Portland Oregon

contact us

Sokol Blosser Winery https://sokolblosser.com/ ADDRESS:  5000 NE Sokol Blosser Ln Dayton, OR 97114, United States PHONE: (503) 864-2282

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[winelimos]

Napa valley winery tours

Explore the heart of California's most acclaimed wine region—known for its gorgeous scenery and internationally recognized wines—with Napa Valley winery tours. Visitors can experience expansive vineyards, quaint winery estates, and cutting-edge winemaking facilities on a tour of Napa Valley's wineries. At several of the most esteemed wineries in the area, guided tastings are usually part of each tour. Here, visitors can savor a variety of delectable wines, including robust Cabernet Sauvignons, refreshing Chardonnays, and delicate Pinot Noirs. Along the journey, knowledgeable guides discuss the history of Napa's winemaking legacy, the distinctive soil and climate that enhance grape quality, and the complex process that turns grapes into wines that earn awards.

[terrantravels]

Witness Nature’s Wonder with Oregon Waterfall Tours and Mt Hood Wine Waterfall Tour

A natural beauty haven, Oregon offers stunning scenery, verdant forests, and tumbling waterfalls. Oregon waterfall tours and the Mt. Hood Wine Waterfall Tour are two of the state's many must-do activities for those who enjoy the outdoors and fine wine. These tours offer the perfect opportunity to indulge in the rich viticulture legacy of the area while discovering its picturesque charms. There is a remarkable variety of waterfalls in Oregon, each with its own distinct beauty and charm. Oregon waterfall tours provide visitors the chance to see these natural wonders up close and offer a cool respite in the middle of the Pacific Northwest's wilderness.

The breathtaking canyon that the Columbia River has carved out is known as the Columbia River Gorge, and it is one of the most visited places on these tours. The crown gem of the gorge is Multnomah Falls, one of many waterfalls scattered throughout. Multnomah Falls, which plunges 620 feet, is the tallest waterfall in Oregon and a breathtaking sight. Usually, the tour includes a stop at the famous Benson Bridge, where guests may get a closer look at the breathtaking force of the falls. Other noteworthy waterfalls in the region include Bridal Veil Falls, a gorgeous location ideal for photography, and Latourell Falls, which is well-known for its distinctive basalt columns. With paths that accommodate all levels of fitness, each tour stop provides an opportunity to fully appreciate Oregon's natural splendor.

The Mt. Hood Wine Waterfall Tour is the ideal option for anyone who like to enjoy the best wines Oregon has to offer together with their appreciation of the great outdoors. This exclusive tour offers a journey through the picturesque landscapes surrounding Oregon's highest peak, Mount Hood, with stops at some of the best wineries in the area.

The journey starts with a visit to a few wineries in the Hood River Valley, which is well-known for its superb wines. Enjoy the stunning vistas of Mount Hood and the surrounding vineyards as you taste a range of wines, from crisp Chardonnays to powerful Pinot Noirs.

The tour continues to some of the most stunning waterfalls in the region after the wine sampling. The tour's high point is Tamanawas Falls, a breathtaking 100-foot cascade on Mount Hood's eastern flank. Most guests may go to Tamanawas Falls because it's a reasonably straightforward hike. The whole experience is enhanced by the insightful insights that guides offer along the way about the region's vegetation, animals, and geology.

[royalbatchus]

Experience Luxury: Mumm Champagne - A Sparkling Sensation

Indulge in the epitome of elegance and sophistication with Mumm Champagne, available exclusively at Royal Batch. As a trusted provider of high-quality liquors and wines, we cater to the discerning needs of US customers seeking the finest libations to elevate any occasion. Let's delve into the world of Mumm Champagne and discover why it's a sparkling sensation worth savoring.

1. A Legacy of Excellence: Mumm Champagne

Founded in 1827, Maison Mumm has established itself as a beacon of excellence in the world of Champagne. With a rich heritage spanning centuries, Mumm Champagne embodies the essence of French savoir-faire and dedication to craftsmanship.

Each bottle of Mumm Champagne is a testament to the artistry and expertise of the winemakers who meticulously curate the finest grapes from the prestigious vineyards of Champagne, France. The result is a symphony of flavors and aromas that captivate the senses and leave a lasting impression.

2. Grand Cordon Brut NV: A Toast to Perfection

At the heart of the Mumm Champagne collection lies the Grand Cordon Brut NV, a masterpiece of blending and precision. Crafted from a harmonious blend of Pinot Noir, Chardonnay, and Pinot Meunier grapes, this Brut NV expression epitomizes the distinctive style and character of Maison Mumm.

With its golden hue and delicate bubbles, Grand Cordon Brut NV exudes elegance from the moment it is poured. On the palate, notes of citrus, pear, and brioche dance effortlessly, culminating in a crisp, refreshing finish that lingers tantalizingly.

3. Elevate Every Occasion: Mumm Champagne at Royal Batch

Royal Batch is proud to offer Mumm Champagne to our discerning customers, ensuring that every bottle delivers an unforgettable drinking experience. Sourced directly from Maison Mumm's cellars in Champagne, France, our selection of Mumm Champagne exemplifies our commitment to quality and authenticity.

Whether you're celebrating a special milestone, toasting to success, or simply indulging in life's pleasures, Mumm Champagne is the perfect companion for any occasion. With its unparalleled elegance and sophistication, it elevates every moment into a cherished memory.

4. Unmatched Quality and Service at Royal Batch

At Royal Batch, we understand the importance of exceptional quality and unparalleled service. That's why we go above and beyond to ensure that every aspect of your Mumm Champagne experience is nothing short of extraordinary.

From our meticulously curated selection of wines and liquors to our seamless ordering process and prompt delivery, we strive to exceed your expectations at every turn. With Royal Batch, you can trust that you're receiving the finest libations and the highest level of service, tailored to your discerning needs.

In conclusion, Mumm Champagne is more than just a beverage – it's a symbol of luxury, refinement, and celebration. As your trusted provider of high-quality liquors and wines, Royal Batch invites you to experience the magic of Mumm Champagne and elevate every moment into a sparkling sensation. Cheers to indulgence, sophistication, and unforgettable memories with Mumm Champagne and Royal Batch.