#hot cocktails > cold cocktails in the winter

[enfys-squees]

It's Tom & Jerry time!

[chadwick211]

7 Hot Liquor Drinks to Keep You Warm

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[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Cocktails

"Cocktail," like many words, has evolved over time, broadening its meaning.

While it once indicated a narrow range of drinks—perhaps originally a single drink—it is now customarily used to cover nearly the full range of mixed drinks available in the bars of the world.

Purists may insist that a true cocktail include at least 3 ingredients, two of which are distilled liquor and bitters. Others may argue that any drink mixed on the spot from two or more ingredients, at least one of which is alcoholic, is a cocktail.

The first known references to drinks called cocktails come from the late 18th and early 19th centuries. At that time, alcoholic beverages were largely served in inns and public houses, and weary travelers and thirsty locals would order concoctions.

LONG DRINKS

Also known as tall drinks, are simply drinks in tall glasses with larger amounts of mixer than short drinks.

Some, like highballs, are simple and straightforward; others are complex concoctions.

What they have in common is a relaxed quality, in that they present a relatively low concentration of alcohol and, often, an easy-drinking accessibility.

SHORT DRINKS

A drink served in a tumbler or old-fashioned glass.

Since they contain a higher concentration of alcohol than long drinks, they tend to be built more for slow, deliberate sipping—but there are no hard and fast rules here.

UP DRINKS

The classic image of a cocktail: shaken or stirred with ice and served, almost always strained, in a cocktail glass.

The most elegant of the cocktails, and not only because of their presentation.

Subtle or intense, austere or rich, they tend to have distinct personalities.

SHOTS & SHOOTERS

The most recreational of cocktails.

Despite their popular image, most of them are actually rather low in alcohol; the danger of shots lies in the temptation to drink too many, too quickly. Given how delicious many of them are, that can be all too easy to do.

HOT & FROZEN DRINKS

Hot cocktails have a long history, having been used for centuries to warm chilled travelers and bar customers.

Frozen cocktails are a more recent development, but they offer a bracing kind of refreshment that is perfect for steamy summer evenings.

Some Cocktails

Classic Cocktails

Some drinks have become timeless, iconic libations of cocktail culture:

THE MARTINI Despite a myriad of variations since its first appearance in the nineteenth century, the classic Martini remains the quintessential elegant cocktail: a cool, somewhat austere drink, not showy, but certainly powerful.

THE MANHATTAN The richness and power of whiskey gives the Manhattan slightly rougher edges than the Martini. It gained prominence in the 1930s as one of the five Borough cocktails of New York.

THE OLD FASHIONED Long before Don Draper of Mad Men revived interest in this classic, adding bitters and sugar to whiskey was a mainstay of cocktail culture and one of the most basic drink preparations.

THE DAIQUIRI The classic rum cocktail, the Daiquiri was a favorite of Ernest Hemingway and John F. Kennedy, and has spawned a host of variations.

Seasonal Drinks

Though most cocktails inhabit the perpetual season known as cocktail hour, many capture—or help create—the distinct mood of each quarter of the year.

SPRING & SUMMER Light, refreshing cocktails dominate the spring. Consider such classics as slings, smashes, lemonade drinks, and colorful coolers. Go-to cocktail: a French 75 Summer is, of course, the season for clear and tropical cocktails. Fresh fruit fills the market stands, the sun pours down through long days, and a cold, sweet-and-tart drink is what you crave. While you could always go for a Gin and Tonic, for a bit more personality try one of the great Caribbean drinks—a classic Daiquiri will keep you cool.

FALL & WINTER As Keats put it, autumn is the “season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,” and that vibe is what you’ll want in a cocktail. Deeper, richer drinks come to the fore. Any drink involving apple juice or apple brandy chimes with sentimental visions of autumn. Go-to cocktail: a Sidecar. When winter comes, linger over an Irish Coffee or Hot Toddy; or brace yourself against the cold with a potent whiskey drink—stay toasty warm with an Old Fashioned.

Champagne Cocktails

Occupy a distinct niche in cocktail culture.

At once colorful and elegant, festive and intimate, they lend themselves not only to romantic settings but also to expensive parties.

Source: The Ultimate Cocktail Encyclopedia by Walter Burns More Writing References: Wine-tasting �� Drunkenness ⚜ Drinking

[headphonegrl]

“Here you go.” It’s late in the morning on a Sunday, and the sun is pouring through the window, casting honey-coloured light all over the living room. Jude’s half-asleep with his cheek squished against the cushion his mum bought him for a housewarming present, and the sudden sound of your voice startles him into full consciousness; all he’s heard for the last hour is the lull of characters speaking on the show he’s watching and that cheesy laugh track played on all nineties sitcoms alike. 

“What?” His words are half verbal and half a content hum through his nose. One of his eyes is closed and the other is squinting, trying to make out where you’re sitting in front of his coffee table with your legs tucked under yourself.  

“Put your arm out.” You shuffle towards him, your fuzzy socks gliding against the wooden floor. Months have passed of you trying to convince him to buy a rug, but still the space remains bare and shiny due to his indecisiveness. 

Jude pokes his arm out from between the blankets he’s had bunched up by his chin. Despite the sky outside being a stretch of clear baby blue, he’s dramatically complained all morning about his risk of getting hypothermia. There’s a mug of tea on the floor next to the foot of the sofa which you had made him earlier, and it sits there lukewarm because he’s afraid that once he moves all the heat will escape in one go. “It’s cold.”

“Here.” You stretch a bracelet over the back of his hand and onto his wrist; tiny blue and green beads placed perfectly in patterns of three, with a little yellow heart that you fiddle with so it sits flat against his skin. Goosebumps appear on his forearm and you try and rub them away with your palms, which are still warm from the little hot water bottle you’ve had sitting in your lap, the one Jude’s grandma had bought you for Christmas.

“You made it?” His voice is still hoarse from rest and he tries to clear his throat with a little cough, and then another when that one fails. Part of him is mad at himself now, he’s had his eyes shut all this time and missed the image of you adorably poking your tongue out in concentration. 

“It’s stupid.” You scrunch your nose up, murmuring something about how you made some over cocktails with your friends one night and bought a kit for yourself because you thought it was fun. A little patch of golden light is illuminating one side of your face and if his phone wasn’t sitting in the other room on his bedside table, Jude would be a very annoying boyfriend and insist on taking a photo. 

“No way.” The idea of you being paired with the word ‘stupid’ seems completely morally wrong, like two things that shouldn't exist in the same universe. It’s a firm belief of his that you should only be associated with all things sweet and kind, like old fifties love songs with trumpets in the back or those little flowers that appear at the beginning of spring after an awful winter.

“You don’t have to wear it.” You twiddle the beads around on the stretchy elastic, before moving your fingertips to trace the lines on his palms; the same thing you do when you’re sitting next to each other at dinner or on the train. “You can take it off later.”

“I’m not taking it off!” Jude snatches his hand away from where you’ve been holding it, and you let out a wheeze of laughter that sends a fuzzy rush of love to his heart. A feeling that he wishes he could catch mid-air and bottle up for when he’s far away and misses you so much that his chest aches like he’s pulled a muscle. 

“Okay.” You smile down at where you’re picking at a loose thread on the blanket, curling it around your finger over and over again. “If you’re sure.”

“Are you kidding?” To him, you must be. It’s already been decided: He’ll wear it to sleep and in the shower. He’ll tuck it under his sleeve so he doesn’t have to take it off during training. It’ll hang on his hook in the changing rooms during a big game like a little good luck charm. If it slides above his wrist, he’ll search frantically under the hem of his sleeves in fear he’s lost it. He’ll wear it even when all the colour rubs off the beads and they’re left white. He’ll keep it until it inevitably snaps and you have to make a new one, exactly the same. “It’s my most prized possession.”

[katsukikitten]

A zombie apocalypse au for @medusashima collab! Find the collab master list HERE! Be sure to give the others a read too!

Warning: graphic, violent, and sexual content intended for adults 18 or older.

Synopsis: Shelter isn't hard to come by in the End but good, untouched, shelter is. When you find paradise in the middle of a dead field in the shape of a 900 square foot home you start to break a few of your important rules. Always keep moving and don't help anyone. Especially if that anyone is a hot headed blonde bounty hunter sent to settle score you'd rather forget.

Peachy Keen Master List

Chapter One - Never overstay your welcome, keep moving

Winter

It scares you at first, the mummified body facing the door in the cramped living room of the home you found tucked away in a field of corn long past it's harvest. 

Petrified you, like the farmers that sat facing one another. In wooden rocking chairs, gnarled fingers slack around the handles. Coming closer to inspect and seeing no signs of teeth marks or infection. Letting loose the held breath you kept as deft eyes looked over every liver spot and wrinkle in the leathery skin. No fluid on the hardwood floors beneath their rocking chair or in the blankets around their shoulders. 

And by some miracle, the cold, the house didn't smell like rot. 

You figure they must have died earlier this winter, it lasted damn near since October as the Earth naturally cooled in the fall of the human race. 

With critical climate change hitting irreversible levels and long lasting damaging effects in just a few short decades, Mother Nature took matters into her own hands. Doing what she does best. 

She evolves, she changes and grows, makes a deadly cocktail of pathogens and fungi that rids her realm of blight. 

Humans. 

You were just surprised a nuclear war didn't wipe humanity off the map first. 

You hadn't meant to live this long, six whole years in the apocalypse, honestly you were one of the many who'd rather take their own lives. Least then you had a say in how and when you went. 

But the body has a funny way of forcing you to survive. To dissociate in some feeble attempt to keep the body going for an organ that tortured itself daily with endless, grueling tasks and for what? 

So you could experience your first kill? Watch your friends and family die when the Feds bombed cities instead of trying to quarantine sections? Of you walking until your feet bled, fleeing the city just to live in the outskirts to hear the screaming and wails as the undead met the living? Tied to a tree limb with your worn belt to sleep or maybe it was so you could loot the dead man for his tent but not without putting a bullet between his eyes as a parting gift first. 

No longer does Grim accept the coins laid upon the eyes of the dead. Now payment for a safe travel down the river Styx is paid with the bullet lodged into the third eye of the deceased.

A tradition sure to be passed down to the generations to come.

Despite the rage you've aimed at yourself for still living, the home was a welcoming sight. The old farm house made of gray cinder block, stout in the field of the tall stalks that you yearned to see each sweltering summer when you were stuck in the city before the world went to shit.

Now the sight of the dried crop makes the nostalgia coat your tongue thickly, like the bitterant of a large pill.  

You think you choke when you swallow. 

Still even with the two harmless corpses it was an amazing find. The shingles of the roof are all in tack and the old wood stove holds the reminiscence of a charred log and ashes. 

Logs lining either side that would last through the winter and then more still kept under an open awning out back. Plenty of birch wood to burn white smoke making you sigh in relief. 

First things first and with the few hours of sun you had left you needed to get to work burying the couple. Half debating over taking their rings that were about to fall off before thinking better of it. 

Grabbing the shovel from the makeshift shed and going to the edge of the corn field out back. Only you were stubborn, stupid enough to fight the frozen ground as you shoved the sharp spade into the Earth. Moving it to your will as sweat collects on the inside of your thermal undershirt making it stick to your back and the nape of your neck uncomfortably. 

Your calloused hands protect you from the biting wood as you spend the better part of your day light going six feet down. Using the height of the shovel as a measuring stick.

I wonder if their kids and grandkids will visit. I'll have to make a good marker so they won't miss it. 

And then it hits you. The realization of what you're thinking. Fat droplets blurring your vision as you chide yourself over wasting quickly dwindling time. 

You hadn't even cried when you watched your friends being torn apart from the force of the bomb but here you were crying over two strangers and their imaginary family.

Except they weren't imaginary were they? They were hung neatly throughout the home. 

Ya know the multi generational home that you planned to squat in. The one with the warped photos in warm senpia of when the family first arrived and built the modest country home to the vibrant color photo of the grandparents smiling ear to ear as their kids and their kids' kids stood on the still sturdy porch with corn cobs in their small hands. 

Another sob racks through your body forcing you to take a break from carving out your last foot hold so you could climb out of the grave you'd just dug.  

Should you start digging your own now too? 

Since no one else was going to be around to do it. 

Once you're back in the house you try to think of the logistics of bringing the pair out. You start with the wife, taking her delicately preserved body with the blanket around her shoulders. 

"’Xcuse me." You murmur to her as you lift her up, surprisingly light compared to the other corpses you've carried or moved. Careful to avoid banging her up against the door jamb accidentally before you make it out the few yards to the edge of their little property. 

Easing her down into the hole using the long and strong quilt that she must have made until you could slip it from beneath her to bring the fabric back up. 

"Sorry." Another involuntary pleasantry as you scoop the husband and his quilt up. Repeating the same action until he rested beside her as much as he could be. Dropping the first and second quilt over them as if tucking them in. You just hoped they wanted their holy matrimony to be reflected in the after life as well. 

Rooting around in your pocket for the few spare ammo you've got left. 

"For the toll." You murmur dropping a bullet each before tackling the grueling task of shoveling dirt back into the hole you half killed yourself to dig. Returning to the house only to place their wooden rocking chairs at the foot of their grave before heading inside for the night. 

Telling yourself not to look for their names, refusing to and that the wooden rocking chairs would have been enough. 

But it gnaws at you as you move around their furniture to better suit you, as the old wood stove fills the home with a warmth, with a luxury, you've long since forgotten.

Knowing full well she would have been the type of woman to have a farmer's log. 

A handwritten one or a more accurate family log written in the old bible that sat on her night stand. 

You left it alone, thankful they hadn't died in their queen sized bed as you moved it into the living room frame and all. 

The moon shining bright over head, peering in through the kitchen window over the sink as if to check on you. To see if you were still awake. 

And of course you were, when was the last time you've ever had a restful sleep? 

Your mind back to the "holy book" specifically the one with the worn leather and cracked spine. Even to the end the wife was a woman of faith, a bible open on the coffee table that you quickly used for kindling. 

Because what has God ever done for you?

He sure as fuck wasn't as merciless as he claimed to be.

Although he'd given her and her husband an easy enough death hadn't he? 

You were sure the rest of her family didn't meet the same gentle fate. 

In the end there was only one true God and that was Death. 

Ever waiting and watching, coming to steal you away before you could even blink with nothing to show you ever existed at all save for your own headstone, least til that crumbled away.

You jolt out of bed, rushing towards the book as if it whispered your name all this time and now it was shouting. 

Screaming, demanding your undivided attention until you flip open the front cover. Old cursive greets you as the pages sigh, rolling over birth and death dates until you're forced to flip to the back, finding the first two names without death dates but plausible birth dates that would line up to their age and the End. Slamming the generations old book as you rise. 

Finding yourself outside, bare foot. Knife in your hand and your breaths coming out in ragged puffs. 

Scrapping along the tops of the wooden rocking chairs like a woman possessed, carefully carving the letters into the headrest of the rocking chairs.

Stepping back in a fever to admire your work, feet numb from the biting cold ground before you turn on your heel. 

They echo back to you as if you'd carved each curving letter into your psyche instead of the smooth stained grain. Unsure if the haunting was that of thanks or scorn and you were sure a poltergeist was the least of your concern.

Even as you drift the names burn your retinas as if to remind you whose home you spent the night in. 

ASTRID     EMROY 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The next morning you find yourself trapped in the house by deep snow so you poke around the home. Rearranging some things here and there but not to disturb the personal belongings just yet. 

Even though you know you won't stay long, never breaking one of your many rules that lead you to survive this long. But why not disturbing their belongs matters to you, you aren't sure. 

Maybe it's the way that this home is untouched. Truly loved and lived in, while the other houses you've squatted in were long since looted. Ransacked and trashed, taken back by the unforgiving weather and those desperate enough to defile what was once someone's home.

For others, their Hell within four walls and maybe the big End meant nothing to them anyway. Besides, it wasn't like you weren't one of the many who rooted through homes and hissed when you found nothing of use, just fading photographs and old DVDs and CDs. Shit that didn't matter now.

Right now you were mostly looking for a good pen with a plan to roughly guess the year so you could add the rough date beside their names and put their bible up somewhere. As if compelled to end their chapter properly so that they may live on despite, their bloodline most likely having died long before them. 

The couple really didn't have much and you were sure if you tried you could dedicate one small wall and bookshelf to their personal belongings to honor them. The thought makes you suck your teeth, so easily you cling to sentimental bullshit, out of spite now their things would be lucky to be stored away in a box. 

On the dusty coffee table are two sets of coasters, tops well worn from sweating drinks, a black leather book and a copy of The Great Gatsby with a broken spine. 

The book peaks your interest, hadn't read it since highschool and even then that felt like a foreign memory. Of harsh fluorescent lights that buzzed loud enough you were sure you'd go deaf to them after having lived in silence for so long. Tossing the tattered paperback onto the old wood top before your fingers grab for the worn leather spine, flipping the pages to see dozens and dozens of entries.

You settle into the old couch, the fire in the wood stove keeping the place warm as the sun lazily bleeds in through the windows to provide you with just enough light to read as you flip it open you're met with a threat.

If ya settle here ya better watch over our goddamn farm. 

The cover page makes you snort, flipping the thick page to consume what you could, hoping there would be some hints on where they stashed their canned goods and supplies. Even if it didn't provide you with anything, at least it helped past the time.

Jan 31 20XX  Six years after the "Rapture" 

It's ain't all fucking peachy keen as I'm sure ya can see and I'm comin to realize that I ain't built to live forever.

And if I was, I couldn't imagine a worse hell than this. 

If ya settled here in our little house I've got some rules. 

No drinks on my damn coffee table without a coaster. I got plenty of 'em. The ones from my birthday (they got cats on em but the paint'll be rubbed off by now I'm sure) or the ones Emroy made outta small trees. Hell use a book if ya gotta. 

Two, you best sweep this home. I don't care where ya came from or who ya came from, what god you do or don't worship but there is one thing for certain, house as old as this has a spirit and ya best keep it happy. Open the front and back door (good cross breeze in the sweltering summer) and you sweep my damn house. 

Or I just might be the spirit that haunts ya. 

Reckon that's it. So I'll quit my belly achin and step down from my soapbox to learn ya a thing or two.  

Now if you're a country folk and from 'round these parts y'all'll know two things. When snows a coming, or rain, y'all can smell it real easy in the air. Can't tell ya the smell but if you know ya know. And the second being it always snows heavier in the next coming weeks before spring than it will in the dead of winter. 

Now if you're from the city or just can't smell like ya used to, Bets the cow will be able to tell ya. She won't come out, simple as that and by the next day snow'll be up to your knees and Bets will look at you like she told you so.  

Hopefully she'll live that long, seems this disease ain't affecting the animals like it is us folks. Reckon we didn't pray hard enough or some preachy shit Gran would've said. Now if the cow ain't there to tell ya, the farm log will. Use yer head, you'll see the pattern even with the blasted greed fueled heat spikes. It's best to prepare for the worst. We've enough canned rations to last us a lifetime in the cellar but Emory and I are old as dirt, it won't last forever but as long as these hands can can, they'll can what he grows. 

Emory, my husband, says hello. Wants me to tell the "stranger" that's you I reckon, that the Great Gatsby is worth the read and that if ya find yourself with nothing to do, which ya will eventually, you should read it. 

Go on now, get back to surviving and be sure to dust my damn picture frames too. 

Yours truly,

Astrid & Emory. 

Pushy. You think to yourself but relish in the fact that old folks like to ramble, even in written form. Quick to explore the home to find the cellar doors in the fading short lived light of winter before realizing the age of the home. 

Shit, it's probably buried under a whole foot and a half of snow, you could exhume it now but you and twilight always seemed to have bad luck. 

It's when you've been raided most and almost bitten more times than you can count and after finding this place you don't wish to push your luck. Even if the undead were few and far between in bumfuck nowhere. 

Flipping open the cabinets in the kitchen you find a few manufactured canned meats. Fingers smoothing out the old label for any sign of denting or damage that could lead to botulism. Finding none makes you pop open the can to sit atop the old black wood stove, glass casting the room in a soft orange that rivals the sunset. It makes you pull the blinds closed in caution, not wanting any light to attract unwanted guests and when the wind howls you wrap tighter in one of the many blankets lying around. 

Three days pass and there is only so many times you can study the farm logs and widdle wood into pitiful shapes with your dull knife before you drive yourself mad. Still avoiding the books for now in some sort of spite or rebellion to God knows who before you're outside and bundled up. Shovel in hand as you scrape the metal spade all along the foundation of the house until you hear a satisfying tink. 

Your luck would be to start in the wrong direction and have to walk all the way back around the house just for the damn thing to be on the left side of the back porch instead of the right. Shoveling away the icy snow before coming across the wooden cellar doors. You wonder if you'll have to replace them soon but your curiosity of the future dies when you spy a combination padlock. Sucking your teeth pull a bobby pin from your hair, straightening it out and wiggling it between the rusting dials, scraping it around before feeling the soft give of the locking mechanism. You jab roughly and the lock pops open making you smile as if you hadn't picked anything ten times as hard. 

Taking the steps into the deep cellar where the air was cool yes but warmer than outside. As if it were deep enough in the Earth to stay a balmy fifty degrees even in summer heat. Flash light paints the darkness in harsh white when you spy a candle and a box of matches into an enclave built right into the old cobblestone. 

Once the fire flickers to life you switch your flashlight off, pocketing it as the candle washes the old glass jars and few metal cans aglow. 

Jarred jerky catches your eye first as you snatch for that, then a small jar of syrupy looking strawberries, as bright red as when they were first picked, making your mouth salivate. The place neatly organized and labeled, the metal cans of all of those beef stews that were upstairs despite there only being enough of those left to last through this winter. Even if you stretched them out with water. Finger following the shelf lining to try to find more sweet fruit coming across the word peaches under a layer of dust. 

Delight you look up, just to find the shelf empty and the sight of it makes you snarl. 

But at least you had your strawberries. 

They taste like late spring, like your childhood when you'd pick the berries at the local farm. How the sun beating down on your back made them taste that much sweeter in the field. A little reward paid by the sweat on your brow and the money your mother would toll out for the fresh fruit. 

Well, well worth the price. 

Spring is coming like her book says and you sweep and dust her house.

[forkfulofflavor]

Dirty Snowman Ingredients: 8 ounces hot chocolate 2 ounces Baileys Irish Cream 2 ounces chocolate liqueur (such as Tippy Cow or Mozart) 1/2 cup vanilla ice cream Directions: Pour the liqueurs: In a glass, pour in the Baileys Irish Cream and chocolate liqueur. Add hot chocolate: Slowly pour the hot chocolate into the glass over the liqueurs. Top with ice cream: Add a generous scoop of vanilla ice cream on top of the hot chocolate mixture. Stir and enjoy: Stir the drink well to combine the flavors. Garnish with whipped cream, chocolate shavings, or a drizzle of chocolate syrup if desired. Enjoy your Dirty Snowman! Prep Time: 5 minutes | Total Time: 5 minutes Kcal: 350 kcal per serving | Servings: 1 serving The Dirty Snowman is the ultimate indulgent winter drink. Made with hot chocolate, Baileys Irish Cream, and chocolate liqueur, this rich and creamy drink is topped with a scoop of vanilla ice cream for the perfect balance of warmth and sweetness. Every sip combines the velvety texture of hot chocolate with the smoothness of Baileys and chocolate liqueur, making it an irresistible treat for cold nights. This dessert drink is not only easy to make but also a show-stopper for cozy winter gatherings. Garnish it with whipped cream, chocolate shavings, or a drizzle of chocolate syrup for an extra touch of decadence. Whether you’re looking to warm up by the fire or enjoy a sweet treat after dinner, the Dirty Snowman is sure to become your go-to winter cocktail.

[daddymilker691]

Well my revered readers of Londons most bohemian and relentlessly sought after newspaper The Daily Milker we are back of course a recent bout of Covid has I’m afraid put rather a damper on things and not wanting to pass it on to my wonderful Co Editor Dawn Green we closed our Holborn studios for the week still feeling the after effects somewhat it really has a way of kicking the old proverbial bottom as our American so eloquently put it anyway so we opened up our studios yesterday darlings to our wonderful page five stars there are now so many it’s almost impossible to put them all in one edition but I shall strive to appease both our hungry readers appetites for these wonderful stars⭐️ and their own desires to be a page five ⭐️ , it’s been a dim and rainy day here in Holborn and actually in London as a whole indeed Dawns had to put the heating on I did suggest Dawn put on a fur coat but from the back room came the reply I don’t get paid enough well enough of the sauntering monologue I hear you say get on with it ok so here goes first off as always the wonderful Dawn Green our Co Editor wearing that in winter it’s no wonder you get cold Dawn next we were visited by the very lovely Petra no stranger to the Daily Milker but it’s been a while and as always in fine form and looking fabulous after the delightful photo shoot Petra caught the bus back to Wandsworth with a big smile and a page five ⭐️ badge , next was the one and only Jodie Hot Sauce who has sent me many get well soon messages what a lovely thing to do thanks Jodie your a staple star ⭐️ of the Daily Milker and we here all love you next after I’d had a coffee and a bit of a rest Dawn sipped on a cocktail only to inform me that Happy Little Lucy had just arrived at Heathrow and was in a Taxi on way to our studio all the way from Canada probably one of the only places colder than London what a Canadiandoll a vision in Polka Dots we made Lucy feel very welcome and took great delight in warming her up , we are hoping Lucy becomes a regular here , next the lovely leggy and fun Cindy Lace arrived you could have knocked me down with a feather when I heard Cindy say trick or treat I said get in for heavens sake before you catch a cold Dawn set up a Haloween themed background and Cindy showed me a trick and I got quite a treat ( ouch Dawn ) , next was the lovely Sandra Clapham who was somewhat late and then I noticed Dawn wasn’t about I thought to myself I know what’s happened and sure enough found them in the Queens legs discussing the different deniers of stockings Sandra showing Dawn a new suspenders belt I joined them both for a quick pint before we departed back to the studio as a brand new page five star only Monica , only I thought under my breath I congratulated Monica on the forethought of bringing an umbrella as it was pouring but did somewhat doubt of how much rain it would keep off, next was the lovely sweet Sue all the way from Manchester rather tired but given time to relax of course in our very special green room looking amazing and left with a smile lastly it was lovely to have Madison back . Before I finish the post I’d like to thank all you page five stars and the wonderful Dawn Green and if you haven’t made it on this issue please don’t think you won’t on the next we would have done a double if was feeling more up to it love and peace and thanks to all who follow the Milker ( never be nasty when you can be nice ) xxx

[thedroneranger]

Daggers on Draught: Open Bar 🍻

Daggers and your requested drink combos! Shoutout to @gretagerwigsmuse @roosterforme @sylviebell and @beyondthesefourwalls for inspiring Open Bar 🥂

The bar is CLOSED. Drink up the OG Daggers on Draught, Drinking Drabbles and Craft Edition.

Also follow @love-in-light as she crafts cocktails based on this series!

Amelia

• Cherry Limeade (na) | Cherry Crush

Bob

• Angry Orchard | Apple of Your Eye • Aperol Spritz | Buon Compleanno • Arnold Palmer | Homegrown • Moscato | Fall for You • Old Fashioned | Bobby After Dark • Peroni (0.0%) | Love Language • Pina Colada | Beach Bob • Pink Lady | Pretty in Pink • Screwdriver | Breakfast & Bob • Stella Artois | Gift of One-liners • White Sangria | Happy as a Clam

Coyote

• Aviation | Laissez Le Bon Temps Rouler • Prosecco | Coyote Casanova • Cabernet Sauvignon | Uncorked Coyote • Margarita | Hot Up in This Joint • Sazerac | Good Libations

Cyclone

• Brooklyn | Checkmate • Gin & Tonic | Everything is Blue • Sazerac | Night Moves • White Russian | Heart of a Cyclone

Fanboy

• Bellini | No. 1 Fan • Bramble | I Feel the Need • Cayman Jack | Later, Gator • Hurricane | The Night is Calling • Moscato d’Asti | Shining So Bright • Pacifico | California Sunshine

Hangman

• Angry Orchard | Cider House Rules • Body Shots | Licked It • Captain Morgan | Adventure is Out There • Gin & Tonic | Gin & Jake • High Noon | Let's Go Girls • Jack & Coke | Save A Horse • Jack Daniels | Gentleman Jake • Margarita | Drinking in a Winter Wonderland • Maker's Mark | Marksman • Mimosa | Yuletide Greetings • Mint Julep | Cashmere, Cologne & Hot Sunshine • Paper Plane | It's Not the Plane • Pina Colada | Ride the (Heat)Wave • Ranch Water | Ranch Hand • Sex on the Beach | Cake by the Ocean • Tia Maria | Nigthtcap • Tequila Shots | Tequila Little Time • Whiskey Sour | Bon Voyage

Hondo

• Mojito | Minted

Iceman

• Bourbon | Puff, Puff, Pour • Vesper | GoldenEye • Belvedere | On Ice • Whiskey Sour | Old Friend

Maverick

• Boulevardier | Twice as Nice • Tom Collins | Old Time's Sake

Payback

• Midori Sour | Solo Session • Paper Plane | Wingman

Penny

• Bloody Mary | Hair of the Dog • Martini | Shaken Not Stirred • Mimosa | Sail Away

Phoenix

• Bahama Mama | Golden Afternoon • Bellini | So Classic • Fuzzy Navel | Poolside Peach • Long Drink | Now Imagine Her Holding a Long Drink • Merlot | Raise You Like a Phoenix • Phoenix | Grit & Glam • Shirley Temple (na) | Tastes So Good • The Last Word | What's the Password?

Rooster

• Blanton's | Giddy Up • Captain Morgan | Captain n' Cock • Champagne | Too Much is Just Right • George Dickel | Too Young to Know • Gin & Tonic | Ain't Leavin' 'til Six in the Mornin' • High Noon | High Noonster • Kamikaze Shot | Stateside • Long Drink | Long Day, Long Drink • Malibu | Just Beach • BB™rita | Salt and a Buffett Song • Margarita (strawberry) | Pourin' All Weekend • Margarita (spicy) | Sweet Heat • Tito’s and Lemonade | I've Got Sunshine • Bellini | Bellinis in Bed • Pina Colada | If You Like Rooster Coladas • Ranch Water | Take Me Home Country Road • Wild Turkey | Cold Turkey

[mistydeyes]

OMG THERES 1K OF YOU!! I cannot believe it! Thank you all so much for all the love and support these last few months :) Literally tearing up at how many people love my works. It all started with a silly little pharmacist fic and look at where we are now!

To celebrate, I will be opening up my inbox for some prompts! For the next week, feel free to send me a character, a prompt below, and any other details (ex. female, male, or g/n character) :)

aesthetic prompts 💌 - CLOSED NOW! thank you for all the submissions :)

soft and cute - all fluff!

vase of flowers - they return home to your door with a small bouquet of flowers with rudy

loveseat - shopping for furniture for your shared home

linen tablecloths - hosting a dinner party (one that is pinterest worthy)

orange juice - sick days call for the best care

vintage maps - a spontaneous trip with an event filled itinerary

cherry lip balm - what was your first kiss like? with graves

paper rings - “put this on” “why did you make a ring out of the straw wrapper?”

ramekins of soup - you both are not experienced chefs but you try a new recipe in the kitchen

tuberose- looking at old photo albums and reminiscing on old memories

tote bags - “hey can you hold this for me?” “why do you have so many things?” “it’s not my fault these pockets don’t hold anything”

sugar cubes - they surprise you with your favorite dessert/sweet treat with price

music - “i made you a playlist!”

pearls - a fancy dinner out with expensive clothes and dining

folded sheets - "hi, i'm your neighbor across the hall :)"

gold - a small gifted ring as a token of your love with price

unlit cigarette - meeting in the most unexpected of places

hot chocolate - a warm snowed in cabin with nowhere to go

house plant - “for your new apartment!” “you know i’m not here enough to water that”

pastel bonnets and rattles - “we are NOT naming our child that”

perfume - perfume bottles decorate your bureau and you decide to let them choose your scent for the day with gaz

friendship bracelets - friends don't look at friends that way, is there something between us? with ghost

shower of tears - angst

crystal glasses - a fight ends with shattered wine glasses and someone is left to pick up the pieces with gaz

running mascara - "i can't believe you would say that to me" with the 141

hyacinth - they decide to interrupt the wedding just as you're about to say your vows with ghost

cardigans - "please don't go, please don't leave me" with ghost

sea salt - you can't do this anymore and just need to get away from them

stars - "do you think in another universe things would have worked out for us?"

cubic zirconia - you both come to the realization that your relationship is beyond repair

cold sheets - "can you hold me just one more time?" with soap and gaz

hydrangeas - a sudden death leaves one of you without the other for the rest of time

cocktails - "you need to stop drinking too much" "what do you know?"

graveyard - "please i don't want to die" with price

enlisted - military au

empty cartridges - "I want you to run, I'll cover you!"

uniforms - they sure clean up well as you look at them in their dress uniform with price

cigarette smoke - you share a cigarette (and exchange indirect kisses) while on patrol with ghost

confidential files - you're the newest addition to the team and you recognize a familiar face

jacket - you forgot to pack you winter gear and they're helping you avoid the cold

angel - this time you're their knight in shining armor as you save them with soap | with price

manila folders - "I'm being transferred to another unit"

bandages - you are the only one with the med kit and are tasked with patching them up

barbells - "you're doing it wrong, let me show you"

MREs - "can we switch? this food is absolute shit"

hit the showers (18+) - a prank ends with you getting your clothes and towel stolen with soap

wigs - you get sent undercover with them

hot and seductive - smut (18+)

lace (18+) - “wait for me in the bedroom, i have a surprise”with soap

stained lipstick (18+) - rough kisses in the back of an uber with gaz | with ghost

stolen glaces (18+) - "are you going to kiss me or not?"

tanning lotion (18+) - you just wanted help with an even lotion application but now their touch is venturing elsewhere

black and white photos (18+) - you take a few photos so they can remember you (and your body) while on deployment with price: part i and part ii

fruit juice (18+) - "let's test out that theory about drinking pineapple juice"

morning sun (18+) - you have nowhere to go and decide to spend it in bed ;) with ghost | with gaz | with price

silk (18+) - “you look absolutely gorgeous tonight”

[elliespuns]

This or that | tag game:

Thanks for the tag @immafreespirit

coffee or tea | early bird or night owl | chocolate or vanilla | spring or fall | silver or gold | pop or alternative | freckles or dimples | snakes or sharks | mountains or fields | thunder or lightning | egyptian mythology or greek mythology | flute or lyre | butterflies or honeybees | macarons or eclairs | typewritten or handwritten | secret garden or secret library | rooftop or balcony | spicy or mild | opera or ballet | london or paris | vincent van gogh or claude monet | denim or leather| ocean or desert | masquerade ball or cocktail party | reading or writing | movies or tv shows | bunnies or guinea pigs | netflix or sex | wine or beer | carpet or hardwood | company or solitude | junk food or healthy food | comedy or horror | sneakers or flipflops | skirts or jeans | sweet or salty | bathtub or shower | rain or sun | partying or daydreaming | missionary or on top | laptop or computer | guitar or piano | food or sleep | hot drink or cold drink | banana or water melon | red or yellow

Adding Tlou related choices:

Ellie or Abby | Joel or Tommy | Riley or Dina | young Ellie or adult Ellie | part 1 or part 2 | playing as Joel or playing as Ellie | Ellie's summer outfit or Ellie's winter outfit

I've seen this so much recently I feel like everyone has already played, but a few no-pressure tags:

@puduvallee | @mihstar | @joelsfavoritegirl | @thetipsybison | @xxx-silhouette-xxx

@radioheadfan699| @infiniteinquiries | @starrfish111 | @iamsherlocked-1998 | @pattwtf

[drunk-on-dk]

Ugly Sweater Bar | Choi Seungcheol (m)

✦pairing: stranger/one-nightstand!Seungcheol x fem!reader

✦genre: pwp (some plot, heavy emphasis on some), SMUT (minors DNI)

✦w/c: ~1.4k

✦summary: Only Seungcheol could keep you warm after all those drinks at the chilly Ugly Sweater Bar.

NSFW warnings under the cut, minors do not read, 18+ only

✦c/w: one-nightstand; no pronouns used but female anatomy; unprotected sex (be safe pls); teasing; pet name (baby); oral (f. receiving); thigh fucking; temperature play; mentions of alcohol; maybe big cock cheol (we know he's big does it even really need to be mentioned); lmk if i missed anything

✦a/n: a little Christmas drabble and gift for you all, heavily inspired by the cold ass weather I am experiencing currently and my constant state of cheol brain rot. Anyways, I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas if you celebrate, otherwise happy holidays, and stay warm out there<3

“Want to get out of here and warm up at my place?” Seungcheol’s lips were hot on the shell of your ear and convincing enough for you to abandon your overpriced, festive cocktail at the bar. Honestly, even in the chilly winter atmosphere of this cursed Ugly Sweater Bar, the large hand splayed on your back had your body temperature running so high you may as well be considered a space heater for the room. However, how could you turn down such an offer from the dashingly handsome stranger that you’ve just met tonight?

You first saw Seungcheol from across the bar, appreciating that he and his group of friends were following the dress code for this ridiculous Christmas pop-up bar theme. You despised the people that dared to show up without their best ugly sweater, and something about Seungcheol in his over-the-top light-up sweater made you even more attracted to him.

Admittedly, this wasn’t Seungcheol’s sort of thing, ears burning and muttering phrases of denial when Jeonghan first handed him the sweater earlier in the night. Little did he know, this was the exact thing that scored his shot with you.

Your friends had encouraged you to go talk to him, but you weren’t quite sure you had built up the liquid confidence yet to approach a potential hook-up.  Surprisingly, he had beat you to it, sending a free shot your way, before greeting you with a cheers motion and taking a shot with you from the opposite side.

Now here you are, not warm at all despite Seungcheol’s original promise, pressed against the cool sheets of his bed as he devilishly trails an ice cube from the swell of your chest down to the contrasting heat of your core.

“Love the way you shiver, baby,” Seungcheol groans, eyes widening at the way your back arches for him, nipples hardening, and watching the little goosebumps that pepper your soft skin.

“Thought you said we’d warm up at your place?”

“Oh,” he coos, the sound coming out teasing and patronizing as he brings the ice cube back up to your chest, letting it melt on your burning skin and wetting your peaks. “Are you cold? Let me warm you up then.”

The juxtaposition of his hot lips on your icy chest has you moaning in relief, his tongue searing the skin as it tauntingly flicks and teases one of your nipples, one hand coming up to massage the other mound, fingers tweaking the peak ever so slightly.

Seungcheol loved how he felt you instantly warm upon pressing his body and lips against yours, breaking away to look at the trail of red skin that was once chilled by the ice cube but has now been soothed by the warm contact of his skin on yours.

“Better now?” Seungcheol taunts you, savoring the way you whimper beneath him as he nips at your chest, tongue tracing down your body until he reaches your lower belly. “Still cold down here?”

You’re nodding, watching him with starry eyes as he gets closer and closer to where you need him the most, “still cold, Cheol, please do something.”

“Don’t want ‘ya to be cold, baby,” he mutters before diving into your core, fiery tongue hastily licking between your folds and instantly making you writhe beneath him. Seungcheol harshly grips your hips, holding you flush against the mattress before continuing to lick and suck at your clit.

Seungcheol was right, you felt like your entire body was burning up in flames, and the only shivers coming from your body were now from pure, euphoric pleasure as he works his tongue in and out of your cunt.

You could tell you were becoming a mess, feeling your wetness spread to your thighs as he continued working at your sopping core. Seungcheol added two fingers, letting them slip between your folds and scissoring inside of you, only making your walls slicker with each pump. You were struggling beneath him, attempting to chase your orgasm against his tongue and with his fingers by bucking your hips, but his tight grip on you didn’t allow for any movement.

You had to admit, you were impressed when Seungcheol coaxed your first orgasm from you, gushing around his fingers as the coil inside of you snapped. You were dizzy from the pleasure, the arousal still burning inside of your lower stomach and making you claw at his biceps, begging him just to fuck you at this point. Now that would really warm you up.

Seungcheol wouldn’t indulge you that fast though. Lifting your legs up and holding them together, he used the slick that had covered your inner thighs from how messily you came for him, experimentally rutting his cock between your two thighs. Seungcheol couldn’t hold back the guttural groan that escaped his body when he felt you squeeze your muscles for him, loving the way you let out a moan too from just the sight of him fucking your thighs, lewd noises coming from your mouth and skin.

Before Seungcheol could lose himself in the pleasure, he slowed down his motions, dragging his cock slowly between your inner thighs as he antagonized you. “Getting too warm now, baby? Do we need to stop?”

You’re crying out pathetically at this point, exclaiming that you’re still so cold and need him to warm you up again. Seungcheol would beg to differ though, not when you’re this wet that your slick is providing sufficient lubrication for him to drag his cock continuously between your thighs and feel this warm around him.

“What can I do to make it better then?” He’s losing himself, hips rutting dangerously against the back of your thighs as he continues to pleasure himself with your body. He almost cums when you beg him to fill you, claiming that is the only thing that will keep you warm, but he can’t miss out on the opportunity.

Seungcheol is filling you with ease, the mess from his precum that’s mixed with your wetness has him sliding between your walls effortlessly. Moaning in unison as he bottoms out inside of you, you clench around him as his thick length fills you so perfectly, reheating your body instantly from how full you feel.  

“God, you didn’t tell me you were so fucking warm n’ tight,” Seungcheol is groaning out, lips coming down to your neck after losing the strength to hold himself up, wrapping one of your thighs around his waist as he begins to slowly thrust in and out of your walls.

Body arching into him, you attempt to tease him back, “maybe you’re the one who needed warming up?” Seungcheol doesn’t like this though, wanting to stay in control as he rams his hips back into yours, the tip of his cock dragging harshly against your walls before hitting you so deep that he has you gasping for air.

You absolutely love the way Seungcheol continuously bullies his length into you. Each thrust pulls a gasp and moan from your chest as he hits the spongey spot deep inside of you, and it makes you clamp down on his length even tighter with each pump of his cock.

It doesn’t take much until you're reaching your second orgasm, letting Seungcheol know when your sounds get louder and louder and your walls gripping him impossibly tighter. Your hips are desperately chasing his to allow for more friction against your clit as he ruthlessly fucks you into his bed. The coil inside of you is overheating at this point, a hot white pleasure taking over your body as you finish from his cock, your walls fluttering around him and clit throbbing from the extreme pleasure.

Seungcheol follows suit, working you through your orgasm as long as possible until his hips and thrusts become sloppy. Reluctantly, he pulls his length from between your walls, pumping his cock with his hand and letting his seed spill all over your stomach. The aftershocks of pleasure are intense for you both, your body jerking beneath Seungcheol’s as he spreads his cum across your lower stomach, finger dipping in the blistering liquid before bringing it to your lips for a taste.

“What do you say? I kept you warm, didn’t I?”

[im-done-with-this-im-out]

Protective (J.T x F!READER) P.T1

For@p4inis who requested a Jason Todd fic with "Where whatever you want. I can fight". I'm literally hyper fixated on Jason Todd right now. I need things to write about with him.

Warnings: Established relationship, Female! Reader, Jason is taller than reader, implied smut, mentions of physical violence, Mentions of Sexual harassment,  Jason and reader smoke weed, Jason shotguns with the reader, swearing,

Its midnight when I'm writing this so its probably shite. Not proof read at all.

(Part 2)

'Wayne Gala tonight. I'm expected to be there. Where something pretty.' That's all you got from Jason. Just a text at 12:34 in the afternoon on a Friday.

'What's the dress code?' You text back. You run into your bathroom, turning on the water to your shower. You strip out of your pajamas and throw them into the hamper in your bathroom.

You set your phone down on the bathroom counter as you brush your teeth, looking in the mirror at the barely there hickey Jason had left about a week before. You set your toothbrush down and take a sip of water, swishing it around in your mouth when your phone chimes.

'Black Tie. Cocktail dresses and such.'

'Okay. What suit will you be wearing?' You spit the water out of your mouth and take off the silver necklace Jason had bought you for valentines day the year prior.

'The all black one. I plan on wearing that red tie Demon spawn got me.'

'Okay gonna hop in the shower. brb' You set your phone down on the counter and grab your towels and set them on the toilet, jumping into the water.

Stepping out of the shower, you grab your hair towel, wrapping your hair up and piling it on top of your head. You grab the second towel, your body towel, and wrap it around your body. Walking over to the sink, you grab your phone, reading a text from Jason

'BTW I'm bringing you a jacket, it's gonna be cold in the venue. Bruce went all out and got ice sculptures and shit. SMH.'

You smile and shake your head at Jason's antics. ever since he died he always ran very warm never needing much more than a leather jacket in Gotham winters.

'Your leather one?'

'Yes my leather one.'

You walk back into your room, throwing your phone down on your bed and open your closet. Pushing all of the clothes to the side you reach the side where you keep all of your fancy stuff, cocktail dresses, blouses, dress pants and suits.

"Go With the red floor length dress, The sparkly one. It'd match my tie."

"Jesus Christ Jase. Gave me a fucking heart attack" You turn to see Jason leaning up against the doorframe to your room, joint in hand. He's dressed in an all black suit, with a ruby red tie and black dress shoes. On top of the suit is his classic black leather jacket.

"Sorry princess. Didn't mean to scare ya." He walks over pulling a hit. He kisses you open hand coming up to cup your cheek, thumb rubbing over your cheekbone before descending. His hand now rests on your jaw, thumb pulling your bottom lip down, opening your mouth as he breathes the smoke from his lungs into your mouth.

You inhale the smoke, letting it sit in your lungs as he pulls away, still keeping his hand on your jaw as he pulls another hit. "You sure about the red dress?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Jason kisses you again, this time short and chaste, before pulling away completely and setting the still burning joint on the ashtray on your nightstand. "Its hot as fuck and you look so fucking good in it."

"That's the problem" You say, pulling the dress out and placing it on the bed. "It's- well it's revealing. Plus I know how you can get"

"The fuck do you mean by that?" He asks, walking over to your dresser, pulling out a matching red lingerie's set.

You unwrap the towel off your body, throwing it on the chair in front of your desk. "Well I Don't exactly feel like getting kicked out because you start a fight Jase." Jason hands the set over to you

"That's not what I meant." He says sitting down on your bed next to the dress. "You said 'it's revealing' like that's a problem" He reaches over onto the nightstand to grab the joint, tapping the ash off.

"Jason I don't want to be harassed by creepy ass old men all night just for wearing the dress." You slip the lace panties on, the fabric feeling snug on your skin. "Honestly I might just wear that damn suit Damian got me for the Wayne Christmas Foundation Party. Would make my life easier."

"Wear whatever you want, gorgeous. I can fight."

"And that's why I'm worried Jaybird. I don't want you starting fights over me." Jason stands up, placing the joint in between your lips, taking the bra from you, turning you around to face the mirror with him on your back.

"Any fight I will ever start over you," He grabs your hand gently, pulling the strap over your arm before repeating the action on the other side. "Is a fight for the most noble of causes." He pulls the band tight, clipping the bra in place.

"Damn." You say pulling a hit of the joint "If we didn't have a Gala to attend in an hour and a half, I would be jumping your bones right now Jason Todd."

Jason laughs, pulling the now nearly burnt out joint from your lips. "We can always be fashionably late." He says with a grin.

"No, we will not be fashionably late." You walk over to the dress on the bed and gently take it off the hanger. "But if you behave yourself tonight you might just end up getting lucky."

"Is that a promise doll?" He says. Jason places the now burnt out joint on the ashtray and grabs the hanger from your hand. "Cause if so you have a deal."

"I promise." you chuckle. You bunch the skirt of the dress up and pull it over your head, allowing the fabric to fall over your hips.

"Is this a yes to the dress?" Jason walks over, grabbing the string for the top of the dress, pulling them over your shoulder.

"Maybe." You Adjust the fabric of the top part of the dress, pulling it so that it's comfortable and allowing Jason to pull the strings tight and tie them off.

"God you look so sexy right now." He bites his lip, checking you out. "I might just have to take you right here."

"I literally have a towel wrapped around my head and I don't have any makeup on. How hot could I actually be right now." you say

"The beauty of a woman isn't in the clothes she wears, the way she combs her hair, or the makeup with which she adorns," Jason Quotes "It is in her eyes, as the eyes are the windows to her heart, the most purely her thing she has."

"Did you seriously just quote Audrey Hepburn?" you say. you pull your hair out of the towel, walking over to your desk to grab the discarded towel.

"Maybe I did, what are you gonna do about it hmm?" You walk back into your bathroom hanging your towels on the towel rack on the wall. "I mean come on Todd, you are a theater kid for crying out loud. couldn't you come up with anything better?" You tease the smile you send him over your shoulder confirms it for him.

"She walks in beauty, like the night. Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that’s best of dark and bright. Meet in her aspect and her eyes; Thus mellowed to that tender light" He recites. The gentle love he stares at you with makes your heart tingle as you open the drawer with all your makeup.

"That's much better."

[heartbreak-sandwich]

Billy Hargrove x Fem!OC

Summary: After a day of sledding with a group of her former classmates, JJ is freezing and prepares to walk home when Billy offers her a ride. She invites him in for a warm drink to repay his favor, and things quickly heat up when he lights a fire and shares his best tips on keeping the frost bite at bay. Bask in the glow of this incendiary encounter in the next 1.8k words🔥 CW: SMUT, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, Billy is a little demanding A huge thank you to my beta reader and editor @lifesshort-imshorter for helping me bring this piece to life!!!

DAY THREE OF HOHOHOE WEEK Prompt: Fireplace Read the rest of this mini series here: Part 1 | Part 2

JJ stood at the top of the snow covered hill with the rest of her classmates. Quite a few of them showed up to the Hawkins sledding reunion party Nancy had organized for those of them that were home for the holidays. Everyone was complaining about how cold it was and how they didn’t want to be chilled to the bone by falling in the snow. She couldn’t believe these people had agreed to make an appearance solely for a party to play in a winter wonderland and then refused to participate.

“Seriously, you guys?” She shook her head in disappointment. “Move. I’m going down.” The small crowd parted, and JJ steadied her sled at the top of the hill, making sure it would travel straight from where it started. Everyone’s eyes were on her, including Billy’s, whose burned brightly as he watched her daredevil antics.

“Need a push?” He stepped forward and offered to help JJ start her downhill journey. She smiled over her shoulder at him and replied with one simple word.

“Nope.” With that, she took a running step forward and jumped into the sled, the momentum propelling her forward and down the hill. Inspired by JJ’s bravery, the rest of the group followed suit, everyone finally conceding to having the good time they all gathered for in the first place.

The rest of the afternoon was spent laughing, catapulting snowballs, and wiping out in the icy powder. Everyone agreed they couldn’t remember the last time they had so much fun. Billy was just glad to be there with JJ, soaking in the warmth that emanated from her on that freezing winter day.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun was setting, and JJ was completely soaked through her clothes. Teeth chattering, cheeks aching from smiling and the bite of the bitter wind, she began saying goodbye to her classmates.

“I need to get going so I’m not walking in the dark. I’ll see you guys at Tina’s in a couple days!” She waved, a chorus of farewells arising from the group as she gathered her sled.

“Walking?” Billy’s voice boomed above the rest.

“Yeah,” JJ answered. “It’s not far.”

“No way. You’re freezing. Come on, let me give you a ride. It’s on my way.” Billy stepped toward her while all of the bystanders quieted, waiting for her to bite back sarcastically. To their surprise, she accepted graciously.

“Actually, that would be nice.” JJ’s whole body shook from the cold as she spoke. Following Billy to where his car was parked, she was thrilled to see he was still driving that cobalt blue Camaro she had always made fun of him for but secretly loved.

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

“Thanks again for the ride.” JJ was still shivering as Billy pulled into the Ferons’ driveway.

“Any time,” he drawled, his signature smirk sliding into place. JJ had the house to herself for the night. Her parents were being entertained at another stuffy cocktail hour for some other overly posh law firm, and while she originally planned to get some relaxation time in, she now had a better idea.

“You want to come in? I’ll make you a hot drink for your troubles.”

“Thought you’d never ask,” Billy replied, his smirk blooming into a smile. He followed JJ inside, and he couldn’t help but notice she was still shaking from the cold permeating through her wet clothes.

“I’ll put the kettle on. You make yourself comfortable,” she instructed, leaving Billy alone in the living room. 

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

“What’s all this?” JJ’s grin shone brightly against the dim glow of a fire crackling in the fireplace. She handed Billy one of the mugs she was carrying back from the kitchen, taking note of the pile of blankets on the floor in front of the dancing flames.

“You’re freezing. We need to get you warmed up, and I thought a fire might help. Here,” Billy said, taking JJ’s hand and leading her over to the bundle of warmth he had prepared. They sat down on the plush area rug together, and Billy draped two of the blankets over JJ’s shoulders, wrapping his arms around her, moving them up and down slowly to create friction.

“What a gentleman,” JJ crooned in jest, giggling at Billy’s display.

“Frostbite is no joke, Jacqueline,” he quipped back, his smile still bright in the low light.

“I suppose that’s true,” she agreed. They shared a comfortable silence looking far off into the fire, the crackling and popping sounds keeping them company.

“You know,” Billy started. “Body heat is really the most effective way to warm up.” JJ met his gaze, and his ocean eyes were dark with a devilish haze. She knew exactly what he was playing at, and she loved this game.

“Oh, well, in that case.” JJ stood up, letting the blankets fall from her shoulders, and pulled her sweater over her head, discarding it onto the floor. Billy’s eyes followed her every move as she peeled off more layers – t-shirt, undershirt, pants, socks – until she was down to just her underwear, her blue lace bra almost matching the color of his stare.

Billy followed suit, shedding his sweater, shirt, and pants, still watching her all the time. JJ felt the heat of a blush creep up to her cheeks just looking at him. He was like a God. The outline of every dip and valley of Billy’s body was contoured by the flickering of the fire. His golden skin looked butter-soft, and all JJ wanted to do was touch him, but she forced herself to be patient.

They returned to their seats on the rug, and Billy leaned closer to her, cupping the side of her face in his hand with a hungry look in his eyes. JJ’s lips parted as Billy ghosted his thumb over them, and there was no more talking. He kissed her slowly, with passion and sincerity, and she was already losing herself.

Billy tasted sweet like honey and warm sugar, and soon JJ was melting into him while their kisses turned fiery, all teeth, tongue, and desperation. Billy pressed wet, needy kisses to her jaw, her neck, her collar bone, leaving playful bites in his wake. JJ’s breathing grew heavy, and all she wanted was more, more, more.

Just when she thought she couldn’t take it any longer, Billy leaned into her until her back was pressed into the thick, plush rug in front of the fire. He lowered himself to her face one last time, locking her lips into his and running his tongue along the bottom one, then the top. He was teasing her, and she was eating it up.

Billy placed nips and kisses again down her neck, to her collar bone, to her chest, and he didn’t stop until he got to the top of her panties, taking the waistband in his teeth and letting it snap back against her skin. He glanced up at her from between her thighs, eyes full of sin, and JJ’s heart hammered double time.

“Are you warming up yet?” Billy asked seductively before pressing his warm, wet tongue flat against her clothed slit, just enough so that she could feel the rush of his hot breath.

“Whatever you do,” JJ warned, running her fingers through Billy’s sandy curls, “just don’t stop.” A dangerous grin formed on Billy’s face just before he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties and slid them down her legs, tossing them to the side. Big, strong hands pushed her thighs apart, making room for Billy to nestle down in between them. His breath ghosted across her bare skin, creating goosebumps over her entire body as he licked a long stripe through her folds.

JJ’s breath hitched at the contact, and she pulled lightly on Billy’s curls, eliciting a growl from deep within his chest. His tongue was like warm velvet sliding up and down and in delicious circles around her clit, and her vision grew hazy in the glow of the flames. She didn’t have room in her mind to care that her moans sounded pathetic and desperate as she tightened her grip in Billy’s hair and moved her hips languidly against his expert mouth.

“Fuck, that’s so good.” Billy’s eyes snapped up to meet hers as she glanced down at his mesmerizing movements, the work of his mouth and his dark stare setting her core ablaze. She let out a gasp when she felt him push two fingers inside of her, curling them up to meet her sweet spot. He fucked her slowly, the constant contact of his tongue pushing her closer and closer to the breaking point.

“Billy, please,” she breathed, her eyes brimming with tears at the stimulation.

“Beg me,” he purred, the low vibrations of his voice against her aching pussy sending shockwaves crashing over her.

“Please, I want to cum for you so bad. Mmmm – please, Billy.” With those magic words, he picked up the pace, thrusting his fingers into her harder and faster and sucking fiendishly on her clit until her moans turned into blissful sobs. Every move Billy made stoked the embers in her core until it was white hot and smoldering, and then there was an explosion.

JJ’s eyes screwed shut, tears spilling down her cheeks as she lost control, her whole body shuddering as her walls clenched around Billy’s fingers. She writhed against his tongue, a string of colorful expletives flooding from her lips as she rode out her climax. Slowly seeping back into the fabric of reality, JJ steadied her breathing as Billy removed his fingers and set an iron grasp on her thighs, pushing them farther apart while his blunt nails dug into her flesh as he held her there.

He continued to lavish slow, lazy circles on her clit, the overstimulation sending jolts up her spine as more tears slipped down her cheeks. JJ couldn’t take it anymore and tried her best to push him away, but he was too strong.

“Beg me,” Billy commanded once more. He wasn’t going to stop until she was a pathetic, weeping mess.

“Billy, please,” she cried. “I can’t take it anymore, please.” He gave one last long lick along her clit and looked up at her, his cerulean eyes shining like the surface of the ocean under the sun. He steadied himself on his knees and stretched his back, the glow of the fire rippling over his defined muscles before he laid down next to her.

“You taste divine,” he whispered. He leaned in and kissed her fiercely, and she could taste the sweet and sour remnants of herself on his tongue.

Once she was finally able to string a coherent thought together, JJ knew she was in trouble. Everything about Billy consumed her entirely, and though she knew she’d never be the same, in that moment, all she wanted was to be completely immersed in him. He was going to ruin her, and she was content to let it happen.

💕Tag list: @imyourdaninow @justsimonrileythings @b1tchy3lf @jozstankovich @darleenjade @peachyaliien @dananahenderson @strangerthing93 @yoyokiss97 @californiaboytoybilly

[therealharrywatson]

Hi there my favorite line chef!

Do you have a good recipe for hot summer days? Thanks!

hiii, hmm let me see. cocktails.

err, i don't really work like that. i'd eat a blazing hot casserole on the warmest day of the year and you can offer me ice cream in the freezing winter and i'll gladly take it. 😁

anything seafood is usually great, like shrimps or crab. salad. cold pasta dishes. anything you'd fancy?

of course there is ALWAYS watermelon or icy popsicles. 😄

[jedusaur]

hot spiced whiskey sour

I love the vibe of mulled wine in the winter but am not actually that big on wine, so here's an alternative! all you need is:

whiskey (Brown Sugar Bourbon works great for this if you like it sweet) water sugar mulling spices (e.g. cinnamon stick, whole cloves, star anise, maybe some citrus peel, anything you'd put in mulled wine) fresh-squeezed lemon juice

first thing you wanna do is throw some water in a pot with your spices. the amount of water depends on the amount of simple syrup you want to end up with, but don't worry about measuring carefully at this point bc some will evaporate. simmer this until it smells super good (like 10 minutes) then strain out the spices and measure the water. add the same amount of sugar (e.g. if you have a cup of spiced water, mix with a cup of sugar) and stir until dissolved. this syrup should stay good in the fridge for a couple weeks, if you want to make it ahead of time.

now measure out 1 part syrup and 2 parts whiskey (I did 1oz and 2oz) into a microwave-safe mug and heat it up. I put it in for 30 seconds because my syrup was still warm from the stove; if yours is cold you'll need longer. AFTER heating, add 1 part lemon juice and stir.

btw you can do this with basically anything that will infuse into water—one of my all-time favorite drinks is a whiskey sour using strong Earl Grey tea as the water. it's an easy way to get creative with your cocktails without needing a whole mixological education :D

[jrooc]

🚄 w e e k ly 🌊 t a g ✨w e d n e s d a y ✈️

Thank you @deedala for putting it together this week! and thanks for the tags @juliakayyy @creepkinginc @mybrainismelted @michellemisfit

_____________________

Name: Jess (or J-rock as I randomly pronounce my own handle in my head like a weirdo)

Age: A little over a Nosho and a half (jumping on this train!)

Location: A cold winter tundra in which I'm afraid to go outdoors

we're going on a trip!! Thank fuck.

📍where are we going? Barbados

📍whats the weather like there right now? Hot and delightful

📍are you an over-packer or a light-packer? Over-packer. The last minute editing is real so I don't have to check a bag. 

📍are we taking a plane or a train? Flying Neeeooowww 🛫

📍early morning departure or an overnight trip? Early morning. Sleep is for the weak, let's get to the beach. (I'm basically the spawn of satan before 9am so sorry if you're travelling with me lol)

📍what song are you playing in the car while we drive to catch our departure? I'm late so something for driving fast? Kendrick Lamar maybe. Or Greta Van Fleet.

📍we need to grab something on the way, starbucks or dunkin? Starbs as the kids say (do they?). I like the egg bites.

📍we've made it to the transportation place 🚂✈️! be honest, are we on-time or are we rushing because we're running late? Late. I've never been on-time to an airport in my Nosho-and-half-years. I travel a decent amount so I've gotten real lazy. I show up and basically walk on the plane.

📍are you taking the window seat or the aisle seat? Window!

📍we're settled in our seats, are you gonna read or watch a movie/show? A long period of time where no one will interrupt my reading? Hello Fanfic.

📍what are you reading/watching? So much fanfic. Although I once had to stop reading a Porn Star AU for fear of the people behind me looking at my kindle.

📍are you using wireless or wired headphones? Wireless

📍are you going to take a nap or stay awake? I miss being young and being able to sleep on planes. My long legs don't fit.

📍do you want a salty snack or a sweet snack? both?  Yes.

📍we've arrived! are we heading straight to activities or are we gonna rest at the hotel? Pour me a cocktail and let me wander around the hotel. I always like to put my feet in the ocean.

📍finally, pick a treat to reward yourself for a travel day well done! Aforementioned cocktail and deep breaths of ocean air.

Also here's this cute picrew! It's sorta-accurate. The leather jacket and red lip certainly is.

Also I'm gonna tag you below - but as we recently chatting about in the fanfic discord. If I missed you, I didn't mean to! I love you all my mutuals. Consider yourself tagged if you see this. And if you don't want to participate you can unsubscribe at *fax dial-up sounds*.

Or I'm just waving hello! @ian-galagher @deathclassic @redwiccanrobin @mmmichyyy @stocious @skylerwinchester @mickeysgaymom @sgtmickeyslaughter @energievie @darlingian @thepupperino @skies-below @callivich @gallavichgeek @too-schoolforcool @guessiliedinthehook @cynfinsaa @bawlbrayker @rayrayor @ms-moonlight-inn @jessieoneday @crestfallercanyon @heymrspatel @such-a-barbarian @suchagallabitch @sluttygallavich