#cam scotch

[sphooney]

THE GIRLS — SWIMSUIT PINUPS!

>> my ocs..AMA + please follow me if u enjoy! its very hard to reach people when you make original character art, but i really care abt them and i really want to draw more

ANUBIS

CAMDEN

ESTELLE

req open i will draw anything with them im so srs rn.

(i will not draw anyone pregnant)

[savvyreyes4587]

Never give me your back

(Pm!Dazai x Gifted!FemReader)

Nakahara Chuuya x Gifted!femReader (but not really?)

Summary: To say it was your plan to be at Yokohama's most famous hotel and in its casino\club wouldn't be true but what wasn't really in your plans was meeting a certain redhead and the baggage that came with him.

Author's Note: So here is the prologue and let's see how it works from here, also slightly edited so ignore any mistakes if you find one, also Dazai, Reader and Chuuya are 16 here.

Info: Wc(2k-ish) Violence, drinking, gun and bullets, I suppose.

Go to Life Waster Series

Dazai Osamu prided himself by how intelligent he was and how he managed to look beyond and see what others couldn't and that was exactly what had him frustrated in this very moment… What was it that he was missing?

The slug had told him that the sheep were looking for a certain someone, someone that Chuuya implied was like him in some aspects but to no avail, not the sheep, not the government… no one was able to find that person.

No matter how many paths Dazai followed, they all led to dead ends and now, he was faced with the choice of finding that person no matter the cost or it would be his end, at least in his eyes.

"Sir?" Someone calls for Dazai and he had half the mind to shoot whoever it was that broke his chain of thoughts but then his eyes drifted to the security cams on his desk, showing a live stream of the HQs casino slash nightclub and Dazai's eyes doubled in size when he saw…

He only thought to himself at that moment as his hand tightened around the gun in his hand… There is no way the slug figured it out before me.

Earlier that night

You regretted the decision you made the second you made it, why did you listen to Keisuke? That man didn't know shit about you yet he did but perhaps you should have stayed home instead of accompanying him to the meeting he had.

The Shady meeting he had if you might add because nothing about this meeting was normal in any shape or form and your gut feeling has been giving you signs since he told you about it but the nature of humans being the way it was… you ignored it.

Now, your ignorance had you sitting at the bar in one of the most expensive hotels in Yokohama, drinking scotch and questioning your existence… not a good combination by the way.

The other thing that had your stomach twisting with nerves was the fact that if anyone here caught wind of who you were… it would be over for you and whoever decided to tell on you.

You took in a shaky breath, hand barely able to hold the glass that contained your drink and you figured that the only way to calm yourself was probably to get somewhat drunk and loosen your nerves.

Without a second thought, you downed your drink, fighting against the burn that settled in your throat and the slight sting in your eyes and you had to close your eyes momentarily to steady yourself which also served as a reminder to why you didn't usually drink.

Everything suddenly felt heightend for you, the music was overwhelming, the speakers blasting, the movements of people around you and it made you feel like wanting to crawl out of your own skin, a sensory overload.

You needed to disconnect from all this, you had to but you also knew that the way your hand began clawing and scratching at your arm was no good sign… you had to stop… scratch harder… no, stop… draw blood…

The hand you used to claw at your arm was beginning to dig deeper, to draw blood but that's not what you wanted so why didn't it stop… Why wouldn't it stop?

Stop it! You are my greatest creation and I won't have your anxiety ruin it.

Shut up. Shut up. Shut the fuck up.

Go away. You're not here anymore.

I'm not yours anymore, I'm not-

You just realised that your hand was stuck, no longer sedating the unexplainable itchiness and you looked down to figure out what had it stuck but the moment you did you saw it.

It wasn't a what, it was a who. There was a gloved hand holding yours, keeping it away from your now red and angry arm and your brain didn't even comprehend the whole thing until the person who held your hand talked.

"Take it easy, Doll. Deep breaths." His voice was so… calm and relaxed and it somehow drowned the other sounds around you, making that dark cloud of thoughts disappear.

Your raised your head, your eyes meeting those cobalt blue ones that stared into your soul and you wondered if he could recognise how fucked up you were with the look he was giving you.

But something was still off about you and you couldn't for the life of you figure out what it was.

"Sorry to break it to ya but you kind of need to breathe, Doll." The redhead spoke again and you now understood what was wrong with you… you might have left the state you were in but your body was still in defence mode, where even breathing was barley allowed.

Slowly but surely you took one breath, then another and it almost felt like your lungs wanted to cry in relief at the feeling of air entering them again.

The embarrassment of the entire situation kicked in your brain as the gears started turning again and you felt your cheeks heat up in an instant.

"I-I'm so sorry, I don't know what happened, I-" You stuttered and stumbled over your words, adding insult to injury to this already embarrassing moment.

But when the redhead simply gave you an understanding smile and took a seat beside you, the embarrassment subdued at the thought that he didn't find what happened with you alarming.

He talked in that voice of his again. "No need to apologise or explain, Doll. I would get overwhelmed in a place like this, especially if it wasn't usually my scene."

He then tapped the bar and told the bartender to refill your scotch and ordered a new one for himself before he turned to you again.

A gloved hand was extended to you. "Chuuya Nakahara."

You pondered for a moment whether you should tell him your name or not but figured that it would be no harm to do so… like come on, what were the chances you meet again, right?

Shaking his hand, you told him your name before taking your glass of scotch and taking a huge gulp from it.

Chuuya downed the entire glass and it didn't look like he had the slightest issue with the burning sensation it left behind.

He tapped his glass for a refill before he turned to you, his blue eyes piercing through you. "So what brings you here, Doll? It's obviously not your scene."

Your fingers drummed against your glass, a habit you should have gotten rid of a long time ago but answered nonetheless and if you somehow screwed up anything, the alcohol was taking the blame.

"A friend of mine has a meeting here and thought it would be a good idea for me to come here too." You found your gaze wandering all over the man, from his face to his suit to that weird looking hat he had on.

Who was Chuuya Nakahara?

Chuuya said before he downed another glass. "Well, I'm glad he did, Doll. Otherwise, how else would I have been able to meet you?"

"But I'm also curious, what kind of friend leaves their friend alone in a place like this? I mean he must understand that some people wouldn't miss an opportunity to take advantage of you and hurt you." He questioned.

And that actually had you laughing, like straight up laughing out loud because he didn't just say that but he was excused, he wasn't aware of who you were, he didn't know that no one would be able to hurt you with what you had.

"Sorry, that was rude but trust me, Chuuya… no one can hurt me." You told him and you could almost swear you saw his eyes shine with a new light, as if he won the grand prize but as soon as you saw it, it disappeared.

He sighed. "Perhaps but sometimes we are the ones who hurt ourselves and you definitely seem the kind to do that."

Your body movement stopped all together and your blood ran cold in your veins while your skin paled. "I'm not--"

"Oh yes, you are. I know a haunted look when I see one and what happened with you a few minutes ago, it wasn't just about being overwhelmed… it was a triggered reaction but what exactly triggered you, Doll?" Chuuya asked and you felt your body kick into flight mode as you immediately jumped to your feet and went to walk away from the redheaded man.

But his hand caught your wrist and pulled you back to your seat and he looked you in the eye while his grip tightened on your wrist.

And he made the biggest mistake of his life when he asked again and said what he shouldn't have said. "What are you afraid of, Time Weaver?"

Your eyes burned blue and so did your body, you let the monster out as you stared him dead in the eye. "Certainly not you."

Blue ropes shot out of your body and slammed him to the nearest wall when you heard Keisuke call out for you. "Run! They want you!"

From the corner of your eye, you saw Chuuya get up and recover from the impact of the slam you gave him but you didn't comprehend that soldiers entered the club, with people screaming and running, it was hard to keep track.

Bullets rang in the air and you closed your eyes, knowing there was no way out of this, you just had to get Keisuke out and away from here then the rest could be solved or at least you hoped it would be.

Then everything went quiet and your eyes fluttered open and you took in how everything barely moved, the bullets directed at you were stuck mid air and Keisuke was stopped mid run to you.

You walked with slow and steady steps to him and shot out your ropes again, grabbing his body and walking up to the elevator, you put him inside and clicked on the G level before going back to the club.

A slight humming was what you let out while using your ropes, moving everyone and everything to suit your own purpose and a smile graced your lips as you saw the final image of the scenario you created before you went to stand behind chuuya.

With confidence you snapped your fingers and the world went back to its normal speed and you watched in amusement as the guards that were shooting at you were now in front of the bullets meant for you and how they fell to the ground as they got shot by them.

Chuuya was watching the scene with angry eyes and he looked left and right for you but didn't think about checking behind his back.

You had one rope out and almost… almost wrapped it around his throat from behind when you felt the cold bite of a barrel on the back of your head…

"I wouldn’t do that if I were you. He tends to lose his mind when he's angry." A nonchalant voice spoke behind, digging the gun deeper into your skull as Chuuya turned around.

His eyes widened when he saw you behind him but simply gave him a smile and was going to slow down time again when you sensed a hand holding the nape of your neck and suddenly you couldn't feel your ability… what the…

You turned around to look at the man who did something to you and stared into one uncovered eye as he smiled mischievously at you.

"Welcome to the port mafia, Time Weaver." Was the last thing you heard before someone knocked you out and everything went dark.

[loveandleases]

Thought I would do a nice little prompt for our favorite dilf. You can find Cam's prompt here. More below the cut~

After watching Ardent's niece for him over the weekend, he offered to take you out for a drink. You accepted happily, knowing not to let the chance to get a free drink pass you by.

As you step through the weathered door of the dingy bar, the first thing that hits you is the unmistakable smell of stale beer and cigarette smoke lingering in the air. The dim lighting casts a gloomy ambiance over the space, with flickering neon signs barely illuminating the dark green walls.

The bar itself is worn and scarred, evidence of countless nights of rowdy patrons leaning against its surface. The stools are mismatched and worn, their upholstery torn and frayed from years of use. The wooden floorboards creak underfoot as you navigate through the dimly lit room.

In one corner, a jukebox hums quietly, playing a selection of classic rock tunes that echo through the space. A pool table occupies a shadowy alcove nearby. The balls all racked and ready for the next game. The bar is empty, aside from an old grizzled bartender wiping down the surface. He looks up and briefly smiles at you before continuing his task.

"Hey, I've got that. You head on home, I'll close up when I'm done." Ardent comes behind the old man, placing a large hand over his, taking the rag from his grasp.

"You sure Denny, I thought you had a hot-"

"Nik!" Ardent hisses.

Making your way to the bar you slide onto one of the stools. Drumming your fingers on the bar top.

The old man looks between you and Ardent, his cheeks flushing under your glare. "Alright, be a good boy eh? Your mother would kill me if she thought I was letting you run wild." He pats Ardent on the back, making his way over to a back door.

He clears his throat, causing you and Ardent to stare at him. "There….there's a dispenser in the men's bathroom."

You don't miss how Ardent grits his teeth and rolling his eyes, before turning back to look at you.

"Now, I wonder what kind of dispenser he could mean. Tell me Denny, what's the old man talking about." It's far too late to hide the smirk on your face as Ardent rubs the back of his neck and groans.

The bar lights paint Ardent's olive complexion with a slight orange hue. His chin length hair tucked away from his face. It allows you to appreciate the slight stubble he's wearing.

"You know not to listen to old people."

"Does that include you?"

Ardent glares at you, placing a small napkin down in front of you. "Don't you start. Or I'll charge you for the drink."

You raise your hands up in defeat. You know not to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially one with lips like Ardent. One's you've kissed several times by now, among other things.

"So how do you two know each other?"

"Oh, he's my uncle. Nikolaso." He places two cups in front of you. Making his way to the opposite side of the bar,grabbing ice some scotch, and a few other ingredients. Before walking to stand beside you, finding comfort in the smell of his cologne as he brushes against you. You watch him quietly as he mixes your drink, even going so far as to garnish it with a strawberry.

His eyes watch you closely his tongue darts out along his lips before he clears his throat. "I used to work here when I was younger, now I just come by to help when he needs it. Alright, try this." He pushes the drink in your direction.

You look at it, at the smooth consistency of the salted rim. Picking up the glass you take a sip. The burn in your throat makes your eyes tear up and you slam the glass back down trying to get your coughing under control.

Ardent begins to laugh, smacking you on the back. "Forgive me, I assumed you were good at swallowing."

You don't miss the implication or the slight curl of his lips. You smack his hand away. "Ya know, you should hold off on the alcohol, old man. Look's like you're starting to develop a beer gut."

Both of you know you're lying. You can't ignore the six-pack, the tautness of his stomach as you smack it teasingly. Ardent's hand grabs your wrist holding it in place.

His gaze follows you, looking you over before huffing,"Go fuck yourself."

Shaking your head at him you stand getting closer to him, your face mere inches away. "Fuck me yourself, you coward."

He pulls you behind him walking toward the alcove, you don't hide the smile on your face, you've always been good at ruffling his feathers.

Teasingly you open your mouth, "What's the matter, cat got your tongue?"

Both of you stop as Ardent moves to clear off the billiard table. You can feel your pulse quicken, and he doesn't bother to let go of your hand, not until it's cleared it.

He turns to you a grin on his face, reaching his hands up to cup your face, before gently pressing his nose against yours, feeling his warm breath as he pulls you closer. There's a tenderness in the act and then, as your noses linger, he leans in for a kiss, your lips meeting softly yet eagerly, sighing into it as his fingers lovingly brush against your cheeks.

"I'd rather fuck you here." His voice is husky, and you don't miss the shakiness of it.

You push him back until he leans against the billiard table. "Then you better go to that dispenser your uncle mentioned."

[lunaicfantastic]

ok so, Paul, right?

like one of the things that makes me love them so much is the world building implications of their existence.

Because we know that the emperor's lyctors did not achieve perfect lyctorhood, they essentially did a shortcut that functions but is not ideal, like fixing something broken with scotch tape versus soldering, with john and alecto's lyctorhood being the soldering in this metaphor.

But Paul begs the question, is soldering really perfect lyctorhood, or is perfect lyctorhood taking the broken pieces, melting them down, and reforging them altogether? Which is more perfect?

Is it more perfect to become one entity or to tether two together? Did Pal and Cam achieve a lyctorhood more perfect than god's?

[superblycaffeinated]

What Happens At The White House, Stays At The White House:

A/N: originally posted on my old account // it has been edited slightly (okay, just fully re-written) since my original writing - I appreciate any new notes left for it! 💙 It was originally inspired by an NSFW post that said: “Somewhere along the way, the pair vows that they will somehow, someway, hook up in the White House. It happens at a dinner when they’re thirty-seven.” which then lead me to think about their age in The Listen Series by @averagejoesolomon and well, here we are. This, in my mind, takes place the day before the first chapter of "Listen Between The Lines", the first book in the series.

summary: The one where Zach & Cammie hook up in The White House, finally, when they're thirty-seven years young. | NSFW - this is 18+ ONLY, Minors DNI please

🎵 For your listening pleasure: Pressure by Martin Garrix, Tove Lo

Cammie Morgan / Zach Goode

Dinner is over. 

A dinner he didn’t want to be at, and a dinner she insisted they attend. 

It’s that time of the evening, when mingling is boring, laced with privilege, and scented with sharp liquor and tobacco. The time when he’s desperate to get the hell out - out of the room, the building, the suit he’s been forced to wear. 

But now that he’s here…he’s finding it difficult to not think about a certain promise Cam and he made many years ago. Vowing to do something, somewhere, somehow, in this place. 

By this place he means, of course, The White House. 

He wonders if Cammie remembers it too, as he holds a glass of a fancy Scotch that a fancy man bought from a fancier man in a fancy place. 

Zach tries, he really does, to listen and pay attention to the story the ambassador from Croatia is telling, but that exact moment is when Cameron Goode walks past him again. 

It’s not his fault that his listening skills aren’t up to his usual performance level, when she leans against the bar across from him. 

The group around him laughs, and he laughs too, not hearing a word though. He can’t hear a damn thing when Cammie’s leg is exposed like that. 

She had to have done it on purpose. 

The color, for one, was bright red. Sexy red. Cam hasn’t worn red like that since Spain, fifteen years ago. 

He likes Spain. 

It’s really not his fault, when she crosses her ankles, and he gulps down a generous swallow of the Scotch. Because the movement opens up more of the slit. 

The slit is definitely on purpose. His wife doesn’t wear dresses with slits. Except that one, for things like what they did in Moscow that one time - the black dress.

Zach loves the black dress. 

He knows it’s on purpose, when fingers glide up the slit, the dainty bracelet (which just also happens to be a laser cutter strong enough for steel) he gave her for their anniversary last year dangles from her wrist. The wrist attached to the fingers that glint from her wedding ring as they travel up, up, and up until a curl is being pushed behind her ear. 

He can’t breathe, when she eyes him over the rim of a champagne glass, and smirks. 

Zach starts to make his apologies, his requests to be excused, setting the glass on a tray as he makes his way to the bar, but when he looks back towards it, his wife is gone. 

Why, why did he have to marry a woman who was so good at disappearing?

It’s easy to slip out into the hallway, to scan the few groups, and know she’s not there anymore, but close.

He quietly, casually, walks to the end of the hall, like he’s supposed to be, like he isn’t searching for his wife who he’s certain is driving him crazy on purpose now. 

“Cam,” he hisses as he rounds the corner, only to find an empty corridor. “I don’t think we-”

Fingers tug on his collar, and before instincts can kick in, he’s being dragged into a room and a door is closed swiftly and without sound behind him. 

His eyes adjust to the dark closet, his hands land on hips that push against his as her voice floats through the air.

“Took you long enough.”

Boxes surround them, packages, and various bottles of high end cleaning products. 

“Well," he drawls, “If I had known this is where you wanted to meet me, I would have gotten here so much sooner honey.”

Cammie rolls her eyes as she backs away from him. She leans against the wall, and bends her leg like she’s freaking Mrs. Smith. 

Now he really can’t breathe. 

Her finger lifts his chin, as she murmurs, “Best I could do on short notice. And bathroom sex is dirty.”

Zach’s heart is racing, but he plays it cool, his hands landing on the wall on either side of her head. 

He leans down, lips ghosting over her skin with each word, “If I recall correctly,” he kisses the dip between her shoulder and neck, smiling when she sighs. “And I typically do, since, you know,” he pauses for dramatic effect and points to himself as he whispers, “Spy.”

“Zach-”

“We conceived Matt in a bathroom.”

His lips find that spot right below her ear, that makes her fingers tug on his tie, that makes her eyelashes flutter. 

“Don’t,” she tilts her head back, so his kisses can travel down her throat and back up, “Don’t talk about the kids before we have sex.”

“Why, want another one?” He nips at her other ear lobe, and she laughs. 

He catches her lips as she shakes her head, her fingers slip down his lapels, around his waist.

His fingers skate over skin, fingering the edge of the slit as his tongue slips over her bottom lip teasing. Languid movements shared between mouths until she pulls him closer by the belt loops. 

She gasps around his lips, “We - we need to hurry, we-”

He mouths at her jaw, hands grabbing at her waist as he sighs. “I know. If we’re not out of here in the next ten minutes, we’re gonna miss that plane and not make it in time for Mag’s bir-”

“We have three minutes and twenty eight seconds,” she catches his lips again, fingers moving swiftly on his belt. 

“Wh-what?” He swallows harshly as she shoves at pants and boxers. The power positions shifted, quickly and unexpectedly. 

“To have sex,” she says, like it’s obvious, like she’s not guiding his hands to her ass and wrapping her legs around his waist like she does it all the time. 

Zach laughs into her mouth, “Baby,” a kiss, then another one, trying to remain some sort of fraction of their normal dynamic, “I’m fast but not that fast.”

He moans as she wraps her fingers around his length and lines herself up, sinking down on him and silencing him with her kiss. 

“Cam, I-” he breathes harshly against her mouth, having no idea what has come over this woman. 

“Zach,” she grips the back of his head and tugs, mouthing at him needy, desperately, hungry. Her eyes blink, wide, unwavering from his gaze as she begs, “Fuck me. Please.”

Kissing Cammie, having sex with Cammie, Cammie herself - is not fast, and hard, or filthy, or like this at all. 

“Two minutes,” she breathes, continuing to blink at him, waiting for him to make a decision. 

The air is thick with unspoken words, tension, heat pressing down and around their bodies. Taut muscles flex, gripping one another, ready. 

He doesn’t know what to do except do exactly what she asked for, because that’s all he ever does. 

It’s primal, it’s messy, it’s grunts silenced by passionate mouths. Teeth biting into lips and tugging, tongues slipping together as he starts thrusting. Hands tangle, they grip and tug in dark brown curls and fingers leave bruises on hips that circle, that bounce in a frantic rhythm. Slick walls grip him, as he practically growls, pushing her up against the wall for better leverage. 

A brutal pace, building pressure that neither can deny they want more of. It’s all a little dirty, and wrong, and so not like them. Her back arches against the cold cement, but she tugs him as close as she can, noses bumping with each of his thrusts up into her. She gulps, panting for air around their kissing as she breathes his name out like it’s a promise and a plea all at once. 

“Zach.”

He swallows it, feels it latch onto something inside him, never ever letting him go. His senses, everything he is, belongs to her.  

“Cam-I-shit, I-”

Cammie nods, mouth parting in a gasp against his lips, furrowed foreheads pushed against each other as they come together, the pressure exploding suddenly, blissfully. A wave breaking, washing over both of them until her legs are shaking around his waist and his arms are doing the same around hers. 

He practically collapses against her, both using the wall to support themselves. His lips graze over the sweat slick skin on her neck.

“Well,” she laughs, the back of her head hitting the wall behind it, “Mission accomplished.”

He groans at the bad joke, but laughs too, squeezing her hips that wiggle against his. 

“I don’t want to go, but…”

“Yeah, I know, forty three seconds,” he exhales sharply against her jaw. A chaste kiss pressed right behind it, before he slips out of her with a wince. 

She rips open a bag of towels with her teeth. Tossing one to him that he catches with his mouth as he latches his belt. Like a practiced team, they clean themselves up as if it’s been done hundreds of times, except it definitely hasn't.

“Cammie,” he starts, something not feeling right as she adjusts her dress in front of him.  

She looks up at him with a smile and lifts a hand to adjust his hair. Her fingers laced with his, and they were slipping out the room as quickly and quietly as they had entered it. 

Footsteps approached sure and quick as Cam grabs him by the tie and presses her lips to his. A movement forceful enough she falls against the wall and he has to brace his fall with two hands on it. 

But a kiss shared that was slow, heated, and saying a lot more than she could with words. Making him feel a lot better about the situation. His hands cupped her jaw, thumbs grazing cheeks as he exhaled into her inhale. 

This is what he was used to. This was the kind of kissing that didn’t make him worry about a thing in the world except why there weren’t enough hours in the day to always do it. 

A throat is cleared, as a voice tinged with laughter calls out behind him, “Folks, you’re going to need to head back to the party. This is a restricted area.”

“Sorry,” Cammie apologizes with a gasp as she breaks away from him, eyes sparkling. “We didn’t know.”

He turns to find Macey McHenry standing in front of him with her arms crossed over her typical service uniform of a sleek pantsuit and heels, accessorized by a dangerous glint in her eyes. 

“Hey Mace,” he coughs. 

“Goode,” she nods. Eyes coolly assessing the situation before her - like the lipstick on his lips and the gelled curls sticking every which way. “Having a good time?”

“Of course. It’s always a great time at The White House” he grins, looking around, “Preston here?”

“Afraid not,” she tilts her head and points down. “Might wanna tuck that in.”

Black lace dangles from his pocket and he quickly shoves it and his fist deep down, hidden from her despite being absolutely caught in the act. 

Cammie hugs her, whispering something in her ear. Macey rolls her eyes at Zach over her shoulder, but her lips twitch. 

“Uh-huh. You owe me.”

She nods to him, a smile, quick and barely caught, but he does. She shoos them both off around the corner with her fingers, before she’s speaking into her cuff with an eyeroll. “Left wing secure.”

Cam laces her fingers with his as they walk out the front doors. She tucks herself into his arm, nose nuzzling his shoulder as they make their way down the steps. 

“Cam,” he stops, eyes searching hers as he holds her hand. “What just-”

She kisses him, thumb swiping over more lipstick on his bottom lip when she pulls away.

“I just wanted to do something we’ve talked about doing for a long time. Maybe we don’t have many of these dinners left.”

“God, I hope not,” he grumbles, hands settling against her shoulders as she smiles. 

“Plus, you, Zachary Goode, are typically a man who likes to take his time…” 

“You make that sound like a bad thing, Gallagher Girl.” He leans in closer, thumb dragging down her neck. He doesn’t care that they’re at The White House and this goes against protocol. Letting his lips tease over her skin, lightly, not letting her get what she wants.  

“It’s not,” she promises, hands pressed to his chest. “But tell me that wasn’t a little fun?”

Zach’s fingers flex against her neck, tilting it back how he wants so his mouth can slip over her throat. His lips press one, soft kiss at the base of it, before he whispers against her skin. 

“It was, but you know what’s more fun?”

“A-a,” her eyelashes flutter as his tongue drags over a collarbone in a filthy, and not at all acceptable way to do when security is ten feet away. “A ten hour plane ride and two hour drive to get there in time for Maggie’s birthday?”

His lips skim over pebbled skin until they’re at her ear. 

“Don’t talk about the kids before we’re about to have sex.”

“We-we just -”

“It’s a ten hour plane ride, Cam.” He kisses her jaw, “Oh, and a private one.”

She laughs, a little nervous, a little bit like a giggle - like she’s not his wife or thirty-seven. 

“And I intend to take all ten of those hours to show you…” he trails off, kissing over her skin repeatedly, slowly. 

His lips are precise hits, strategic and skilled in leaving lingering kisses that leave her satisfied yet somehow wanting more. Until she’s got her arms around his neck, practically bent backwards as he leans in, and hovers over her lips. 

“That taking your time will always be more fun.”

No kiss to the lips is granted. Not then, when he stands up straight and tugs on her fingers like he didn’t just do all that teasing. Not once on the ten hour plane ride, while kissing between her thighs instead. Not until they’re in bed, and he’s kissed quite literally every other inch of her body, and he’s asking her if taking their time is really so bad, if taking their time wasn’t way more fun. 

She doesn’t get to answer, with his lips pressed to hers finally. 

[r34ding]

The scent of the sea

Part 2

Jeremiah and OC Fanfiction

~Dealing with the aftermath of their kiss and consequent tension between herself and Jeremiah, Em tries to deal with a budding romance and her personal problems, that she has yet to process.

Or: Opening up is hard.~

Still connected at the lips, Em felt as if her whole body was tingling with excitement. Jeremiah had pulled her even closer and his hands caressed her hip, while she had buried one hand in his curls and the other under his shirt. From time to time they parted their lips and Em could admire his face, beautifully illuminated by the moon-

*Police!*

As if hit by lighting the yell shattered the intimate moment. Jeremiah sprang to his feet first, reaching for her arm and swiftly but gently pulled her up to stand. He seemed to have regained his composure first, already scanning the scattering crowd in search for his friends and brother.

*Come on, follow me.*

Em was readjusted her shirt that had ridden up a bit while making out and fell a step behind Jeremiah looking for Belly. Coming to a stop in front of a visibly drunk Conrad, he draped on of his brothers arms around his shoulder and began steering him towards the parking spots. From time to time he looked back to make sure Em was still there and Em could not help but smile admist the chaotic situation. Looking past him she spotted the head of brown hair she had searched for and called out to her. Belly, who was accompanied by a boy she had met earlier, made it to the car just as Jeremiah was done securing his brother on the back seat.

*Get in guys.*

Jeremiah's voice seemed strained as he urged his friends to hurry up. Em got into the backseat while Belly said goodby to her friend.

*I could just drive with Cam.*

She vaguely adressed the group. Cam seemed eager to drive her and shyly smiled at Belly. Jeremiah howerver was not as fond of the idea.

*You are not getting into some randoms car!*

Concerned and slightly aggravated Jeremiah had glared at Cam, who seemed to want to ease the tension rising up.

*I'm Cam- Cameron.*

He reached to shake Jeremiah's hand but let it be, after his gesture was ignored.

*Sorry, but thanks for tonight.*

As a goodbye Belly gave Cam a kiss on his cheek. All the while Steven, sitting in the back of the car squeezing squeezing Em in between him and Conrad, made some gagging noises. With a glare Belly got into the passager seat and just as they wanted to start their way home, a bright light was directed through their window. The police got to them, before they could drive off.

The night ended in an argument between Belly and Laurel, with an unexpected objection from Conrad.

Tucked into bed, tired but still somewhat alert, Em sat up and took out a ragged journal from under her pillow. Soft snoring came from Bellys side of the bed, who had falled asleep as soon as her head had hit her pillow. With her bedside light barely on Em flipped through the pages stopping at some pictures she had taped in there at random places with some scotch tape. One was of her as a small child, held in her fathers arms in front of a small suburban house. The Em of the past had looked up at her father, him with his slicked back black hair and brown leather jacket, looking off to the side. She mostly remembered him like that, his side profile, a half smile, his eyes seachring for something in the distance.

The pen l only left the paper after she had completed a rough scetch of the sea and a night sky. In random places she had noted the name of some songs that had been played tonight.

Awoken by sunlight Em got up, fondly looking at her friend buried under pillows and disheveled hair. Stepping out of their room, she was greeted by the smell of pancakes that had filled the whole house. Susannah was up and serving Laurel, who did not seem to be in the best mood, some fruit and coffee.

*Hey Em, what do you want to eat? I'll fix you something.*

Feeling welcomed by Susannah's smile Em sat down next to Laurel at the counter.

*Just some pancakes please?*

Laurel wordlessly handed her a cup of coffee as well and soon her plate of pancakes topped with some fruits and nuts was ready. Em just stared at her plate for a second. Most of the times she fixed her breakfast herself and ate alone or not at all, because her mother was out at work.

*Thank you.*

Some thoughts of shame had almost kept her from joining the women, because of yesterdays trouble she had played a part in, but neither Laurel nor Susannah seemed to hold any grudges towards her and Em could enjoy her meal in peace.

*Morning mum!*

Jumping down the stairs on soft soles Jeremiah greeted his mother with a kiss on her cheek earning a loving smile and hugged Laurel and Em in passing.

*Want some pancakes honey?*

*Nah thanks, I am feeling muffins. Em, wanne join me on my ride?*

Em's plate was mostly empty and she did want to see more of Cousins at daylight.

*Sure.*

On their way Em let her hand ride the wind, taking in some of the nature but felt more transfixed by the sky painted with cotton like clouds.

*So, how was your first night?*

Jeremiah's gaze was fixed on the road, but he had stolen some looks at the girl next to him, who was lost in thought. He liked her slightly wavy hair, and noticed a small beauty mark on her left cheekbone. She shrugged.

*Your bed is comfortable.*

Regretting the way she prhased her answer, she began fiddling with the radio. In response he just chuckled. They reached their destination and the bakery's smell of freshly baked goods lured Em to look around. Jeremiah had bought the favorite goods of all the others, meanwhile Em had picked herself a cookie to enjoy on their way back. They made some more small talk but each dwelled on their thoughts and didn't feel the need to talk while just enjoying the shared silence.

The sun at zenith made for a picture perfect day at the pool. Belly and Em had claimed the pool chairs for themselves. Steven had gone out to meet some girl he had been joined at the hip with jesterday. The Fisher brothers where nowhere in sight and Susannah and Laurel had gone out for some errands.

*You know, I was so angry yesterday.*

Confided Belly in her friend.

*Conrad has changed so much and watching him with this girl... he seemed like a person I don't know anymore.*

Spinning herself around slowly to face Belly, Em saw, her friend's furrowed brows beneath her sunglasses.

*Did you talk to him, maybe something happened?*

Conrad did not speak to her much, just greeting her politely but otherwise keeping his distance and Em was not that interested in him either.

*Not yet. I will... Whatever. Now tell me, Em, what happened with Jer yesterday? I remember you two sitting at the beach together.*

Heat rising up to her cheeks Em spun around again.

*I don't know, I just had a good time you know. Nothing serious...*

*Why do I get the feeling that is your default answer. Jeremiah is a really nice guy, I like that you two get along so well. And honestly back in school I was kinda scared my brother might be interested in you.*

Em had made a full circle and stared at Belly in dibelief.

*How did you come up with that?*

Holding a giggle at Em's reaction, Belly didn't bother to answer.

*I sometimes think he might have something for Taylor or vice versa... I just don't know if I would like them together. You know he can be such and prat.*

*He's alright... but I can imagine how you woul feel a bit weird seeing Steven go after one of your friends.*

Belly changed topics again.

*Back to you, do you want to go after Jer? Maybe it would be good for you.*

Concentrating on anything but Belly's question, Em suddenly found the ripples her hands left in the water as she spun herself around quite vexing.

*Come on, dont ignore me!*

Belly jokingly shoved Em's pool chair with her feet.

*Alright alright. It's just I dont think there will be more than what happened yesterday.*

As a response Belly let out a heavy sigh.

*You always say that.*

Relaxing with their eyes closed the girls were oblivious to Steven, Conrad and Jeremiah that had come back from surfing and began to quitly sneak towards them.

*Now!*

Steven's yell gave them the starting signal to jump into the pool. Under water Conrad honed in on Belly, pushing her screaming and kicking body out of the pool chair. Instictually Em had began paddling back to the edge of the pool for safety, but before she could reach it, her life boat stoppped moving.

*Nah ah. You can't just escape.*

Holding her floating device at the head rest, mischief sparkled in Jeremiahs eyes.

*No, no no no.*

Threatening him with her held up finger, she got pushed out from under her chair by Steven who had waited until she was incapacitated. She fell right into Jeremiahs chest. His arms wrapped around her waist and he pulled her under with him. The reached the surface and Jeremiah had pulled them quite a bit away from the others. His hands held her by the underarms and he looked down at her. Em held her breath, suprised.

*Hey, do you want to go to the beach later. Just us?*

He seemed serious for once, just waiting for her answer. Em's whole body froze up.

*I...*

She wanted to say yes, but she couldn't.

*Maybe we should ask the others?*

Jeremiah's hands fell to his side and he took a moment to regain his signature smile.

*Let''s do that.*

The moment at the pool haunted Em for the rest of the day, during dinner she evaded Jeremiah's look, even though he took her answer well. She instead acted invested in Susannah's plight to get her but more importantly Belly to become a debutante. While Jeremiah did not take it to heart that Em didn't want to spend time alone again after their kiss, he did mind, that she so openly distanced herself from him. He was the last person, that would hold it against her, if their moment just happened because of the alcohol and otherwise their relationship was just platonic.

*Look at it as a way to commemorate this summer, growing up into young women.*

The hopeful look Susannah had was enough to persuade Em.

That night she felt haunted by her decision to reject Jeremiah, it made her evade sleep, so she went out. Walking wherever she felt like, it lead her to the beach.

*You came...*

Jeremiah greeted her, as she unexpectedly joined his side. He had watched the stars with Belly before, who was conflicted over Conrad's change in behaviour. After she left, he felt confronted with the lingering feelings he had for her, that resurfaced whenever they spent time alone.

*I didn't know you would be here.*

She felt stand-offish, was unsure why, because Jeremiah was one of the most lovable people she had met so far and he had given her no reason to be confrontational. The inner turmoil left her confused.

*Em, I don't get it. Did I do something?*

Jeremiah looked up at her inquiringly.

*No! No, I... fuck. I'm sorry- it's not you. It's m-*

*Spare me!*

It came out sounding more solemn than he planned for. About to turn around, he reached for Em's hand, gingerly pulling her to sit down.

*It is all good, I just don't understand. Ok? You don't need to explain it, but if you want to, I'll listen.*

Just as his hand retreated, she reached out. While she wasn't ready to be vulnerable right this moment something compelled her to not let go. Conflicted but also appeased, Jeremiah just enjoyed her company. They parted ways as the sun was just short of rising.

[scorpsik]

I haven't had a very good day.

Soooo.... this very bleak piece of fan fic is written here, live, straight to the board.

It is bleak. Hopeless/hopeful.

Life Is Very Long When You’re Lonely

Dave Rossi frowned as a hammering at his door began to drown out Tony Bennett’s ‘My Heart Sings’.  It was late.  He set down his Scotch, huffed and hoped the knocking might stop, but it didn’t.  He rose from his chair, lifted the needle from the vinyl and walked through to the front door.  He peered at the image on the door cam and immediately opened the door.

“Can I come in?”

Dave regarded Emily Prentiss, as she stood in his doorway, her long coat pulled up high around her neck, her body leaning against his porch.  “Seeing as you’re here, I guess you’d better.”  He said, stepping aside for her.

Emily shuffled in.  “Boots off?”

“Please.” He watched her kick off her shoes with a stumble.  “You’re drunk.”  He noted.

“A bit.”  She agreed.  “Not enough. Despite best efforts.”  She attempted a laugh but it got stuck in her throat.

“Come in. I’ll put the coffee on.”  Dave nodded.

“Ugh.  No coffee.  I’ll drown.”

“Tough.”  He gestured for her to head to the lounge and she wordlessly complied.  The smell of cigarettes lingered after her.  “You shouldn’t smoke either!”  he called.  He waited for a reply, but got none, so he continued making coffee for two.  When he brought the mug to her, she let her fingers brush his as she took it.

“What is it?” he asked softly, sitting himself in the chair opposite her.  He couldn’t help the concern that flowed through him.  Emily hadn’t been quite the same since her return from Paris. Oh, she covered it pretty well whilst at work… but there was a darkness about her now; A melancholy.

“I didn’t know where else to go.” She said just as softly. Her eyes raised to his for the first time – they were rimmed red and watery. “I couldn’t face the apartment. I’m all alone, Dave.”

He reached across and took her hand.  “No you’re not. I’m here.”

She nodded. “I feel alone. I’ve hardly spoken to my parents since Paris. And my friends… they’re all dead.  He killed them all.”

“You’ve still got us at the BAU.”  He reminded her.

She scoffed. “Spencer hates me.  Derek doesn’t trust me.  Hotch and JJ are suffering because they tried to help me. I hurt you and I didn’t mean to.”

Dave listened silently.  “Hey?”  He waited until she looked at him.  “You came to me. So you know I’m not angry with you.”

She frowned, her tipsy brain weighing that up. “I guess.  I’m sorry. I interrupted your evening.”

“That’s okay.” He assured her.

“I only meant to have one drink.” She told him.

Dave chuckled.  “What happened?”

“I… had a glass of wine at home.  I need a bit of courage to go out again.  To feel safe going out again.  And then… when I got to the bar, I just felt… overwhelmed and afraid. So I had a couple more drinks, and… I couldn’t stop. Couldn’t stop myself.  I was afraid if I stopped, then I’d realise I was drinking alone… that I was all alone… and I’d wind up sobbing in the toilets until closing time.”

“Why did you come to me?” Dave asked.

Emily shrugged.  “I didn’t want to be alone anymore.  I-I can’t be alone anymore.  I was alone for so long.  I haven’t got anyone else.  I haven’t got anyone.” She shook her head, those tears hanging from her lids.

Dave sifted until he was sitting next to her. He took the half drunk coffee from her hands and set it on the table before drawing her into his arms.

“Dave.” She whispered, her voice hitching.

“You’re safe.”  He told her quietly. “You’re not alone.”  He felt her arms wrap tightly around him.

“Don’t let me go.”  She whispered against his chest.

“I won’t.  I won’t let you go.”  He assured her.

[sindirimba]

Cam work? 😁

hello!

this is a very lighthearted no immortality AU, with nile as a camgirl meeting booker as a new cam...dilf. it’s just an excuse for porn, i can’t lie, but for now it’s stalled. i’ll share a little snippet:

He fixed himself some of his grandmother’s cure for sleeplessness-- tea with a shot of scotch-- but while that dulled some of the loneliness, it did nothing to make him really want to sleep. Instead he found himself wandering to his office and dropping into his desk chair. He could kill time on the internet, perhaps buy something for the boys in anticipation of their return. Or he could read the news, if he wanted to put himself into a sour mood. Or...

Perhaps an impromptu late night stream. He wasn’t particularly in the mood, but it would be nice to make a little extra money beyond the normal schedule he kept. He grabbed his phone, looked at his face in the camera, and winced. He looked as exhausted as he felt. Was that a fetish? Sad tired dad? The thought made him snort, then sigh.

He logged in and paused as he stared at his dashboard, trying to decide whether to give it a go. He’d have to speak English if he streamed then, wouldn’t he? It would be nothing but Americans at this hour, probably. He felt too tired for English. Maybe he didn’t need to speak at all, though...

one day maybe! 🖤

[anglophiletraveler]

Six Sentence Sunday

Here's a little something that I cam up with this weekend with some characters from The Almighty Johnsons. I don't have a title yet, so I haven't shared what I have yet. Enjoy!

Chapter 1

Year 200?

The telephone rings on the desk of Anders newest assistant, Dawn Sutherland.  Dawn’s an eager to please person who is thrilled to be working in a marketing agency, her dream job.  She is bright and fresh and green, with hopes of changing the world with this job. And the phone keeps ringing while Dawn gets untangled from the scotch tape that keeps stretching out and out.  Soon, the scotch tape has wrapped around her arms, and her new boss is yelling, “Dawn, answer the fucking phone!  I’m busy!”  Busy for her boss Anders Johnson means snogging with the brunette on his lap.  

“I’m trying!  I’m all tangled up.  Hold on, maybe I can push my hand through … “Hello, thank you for calling JPR Marketing, my name is Dawn, how may I help you?” She manages to get out that much while her whole body is bent over her desk with her ear pressed against the phone in her one hand that managed to get free of the tape.  “Hello, hello?  They must have hung up.  Sorry Anders.  I promise to do better next time.” 

Anders finally managed to walk over to Dawn’s desk to see what disaster Dawn was creating at the present moment, “Well Dawn, let’s hope that there is a next time so that I can make some money to pay you, although for what I’m not sure.”

[camxle]

continued from here / @nathanccrane

"And you felt it was necessary to bribe me? I'm not sure if I should feel offended or flattered." Cam jested back, reaching into the bag to pull out a bottle of Scotch. She glanced down at the expensive liquor, playfully releasing a soft whistle. "Fancy. I usually prefer jewelry when I'm being bribed, but I'm willing to make exceptions." The club owner smirked back at Nathan, sliding off her bar stool to step behind the bar to grab two glasses. "You caught me, I hate getting gifts. Nothing is worse than having someone buy you an extravagant present. The nerve of some people." Cam grinned, returning to join Nathan at the bar. "Jokes aside, thank you for the Scotch, and the apology. Both are very much appreciated." A kind smile graced her lips. She poured them both a drink from the bottle of Scotch, sliding a glass over to Nathan. "It's nice to see you back to yourself again."

[foulbearobservation]

hey hi hello coming to your ask box direct from my real life occupation as an adult bc I saw that gifset of camila-iS hE stEALING praYERS FrOm GOD-no-last-name and lost it in the break room.

honourable mention on the “camila is a fake nun” evidence list should go to that scene is S1 where Lilith has just come back from hell and is all banged up in Dr Salvius’s totally dubious medical facility (don’t get me started) and Beatrice and camila are like “damn girl death sure didn’t stick huh” and camila crosses herself like she’s voguing - the level of drama in the movement was entirely incompatible with her being a serious nun and I am incapable of seeing otherwise.

ALSO I saw the “camila bi-panics with Ava” thoughts (LOVE by the way and PLEASE let us witness Ava explain to bea why she’s losing her shit over her phone) and I raise you the aftermath of mother superion getting that “hi so I’m maybe into Lilith? Thoughts? (And prayers?)” text from cam and just drinking scotch staring into the middle distance contemplating the stats of all her nuns actually being gay

(bonus points if all her totally normal and not at all charged “heated philosophical debates” with dr salvius begin to circle in her thoughts while playing the jaws theme)

Wow sorry this became an essay bestie being Responsible exacerbates the mental illness yknow how it is 😔

hello sorry to make u lose it in the break room 😭 in my defense I'm usually losing my shit in my office so at least I get to inflict the pain on others now lmfao

HELP I always think catholics look a little silly when they're doing the sign of the cross but now I gotta go back and rewatch those scenes because they're filled with So Much camilith

ALSO not this being the thing that makes mother superion want to renounce her vows like she gets that fun update from camila and goes. fuck I need a drink. FUCK I'm a nun I can't drink. fuck I have a homoerotic friendship with local scientist. FUCK.

mother superion absolutely does not get paid enough for this like she's SO TIRED

[and-so-he-rambled]

Home

(Bones)

“I saw the world, I traveled and I learned so much.” He learned that the sunrise was just as beautiful in Africa, that bones looked the same in Rome, that there was murder and mystery in every corner. He learned that the best meals of the world meant nothing eaten by yourself. He learned that epiphanies came on sparse mountaintops so devoid of life that you felt you were the only one alive. That crisis came in an empty hotel rooms at one in the morning, halfway through a bottle of scotch and realizing that you were utterly and completely alone. That the adrenaline rush of adrenaline and endorphins was almost like solving a murder, even if not quite. That it was easier to crawl into a bottle than face the reality that the family he’d built was gone. That there was a special kind of terror found in waiting rooms waiting for std results because you couldn’t remember the last four weeks.

So yeah, he’d learned a lot.

“But at the end, I just wanted to go home.” To England? To Berkshire where his mum and sister went about their lives? He did miss England, but more so he missed the past, when he could hole up in his room and read encyclopedias and National Geographic magazines. Before he had to grow and up be something. He missed the lab, when he finally was something.

Vincent wasn’t a man of faith, but he knew many religions and beliefs. He wished he did have such a strong devotion, that he wasn’t truly abandoned, but at the end of the day he was a man of facts. Facts were a lonely religion.

Even if he was the richest man in the world, he liked to think he would have found his way back to the Jeffersonian anyway. He didn’t have his doctorate and was only an intern, but he felt at home under the white lights, solving mysteries and giving people their identities back. He had a purpose there, and he would have given away every penny of that million to just go back to the way it had been.

His adventures weren’t a complete loss, and there truly was no freedom like the outdoors, but he was content to spend the rest of his days inside. It was easy to close his eyes and remember the sights before he gave in to his weaknesses and tainted his perfect memory. He could see it so clearly, every little detail.

“Did you have a favorite place?” Angela smiled at him, small and soft and kind. She was special, tolerating him and seeming to care about the facts that drove his life. Hodgins was a lucky man.

Did he have a favorite place? Maine was beautiful, if cold, and Rome was historic, if overwhelming. He’d seen beautiful and rare sights, but if given the chance he wouldn’t go back to any of them. Those mountaintop epiphanies were passed and gone, and the magic of traveling for the first time was well worn.

“Coming back, that was my favorite.” He remembered the way the plane bumped down on the D.C runway and a weight had lifted. He’d been fresh from rehab and time with his family, but the second Cam called he had been on the first flight home. His mum said she understood, had patted him on the arm with a smile only mothers could pull off and told him to go back to the family he found.

The city had never looked so beautiful that night, grimy and dark and oh so perfect. His apartment was untouched, set on a recurring payment from the account he hadn’t drained completely, and it greeted him with open arms. It was dark and dusty as he set down his bags and sat in the dark, listening to police sirens in the distance.

And he cried. He cried, an ugly messy sort of cry, until he was aching and empty. He cried for all he had done and all he hadn’t, for his mistakes and his accomplishments. He cried for the horrors he’d seen and those he’d yet to see, for the ghosts of his past already starting to follow him. He cried for any and every reason, and to just cry at all. Vincent was only human, but he was home.

“This place is really that special to you?” Angela looked at him before looking back at her painting, a 8x10 painting of the snowfall in Alaska from his description alone. She was remarkably on point.

Instead of a proper answer he shrugged. He doubted he could put into words what the Jeffersonian meant to him. He found himself falling back on habit, one he’d let fade in the pursuit of adventure.

“Did you know,” He smiled at the faux shine of painted snow on the bowed branch of an evergreen. “That it's illegal to feed pigeons on the sidewalks and streets in San Francisco?”

Angela laughed, throwing her head back before giving him a look that felt like home.

“Never change Vincent.”

But he had changed. He had lost himself somewhere between Nevada and Paris, in scotch and pints with strangers. He let his love for knowledge be overshadowed by his need to feel something and fill a hole he hadn’t realized was there until the Lab stopped filing it. If anything’s he was changing back, finding his way back to himself.

He was here, he was home and finally getting better, and he never wanted to go.

—/

Your honour I miss him 🥲

[ruou-tot]

The Grants Whisky

The Grants Whisky là một trong những sản phẩm đi đầu xu hướng rượu whisky Scotch pha trộn. Cùng cạnh tranh với rất nhiều đối thủ nhưng danh tiếng lâu đời của thương hiệu Grant cùng chất lượng hương vị luôn nhất quán theo thời gian giúp dòng rượu mạnh này trụ lại vững chắc trong trái tim người dùng.

Đôi nét thú vị về rượu The Grants Whisky Có nhiều người không biết, trước năm 2018, The Grants Whisky vẫn còn được biết đến với cái tên Family Reserve và là một trong những loại rượu tồn tại lâu nhất trong dòng sản phẩm này. Mặc dù tên mới đã thay thế hoàn toàn tên cũ ở Châu Âu nhưng tại Mỹ, tên cũ vẫn còn được sử dụng. Vì vậy, bạn có thể vẫn gặp một vài kh�� khăn khi tìm rượu dưới cái tên “Triple Wood” ở Mỹ.

Tuy vậy nhưng chất lượng sản phẩm không có gì thay đổi. Việc đổi tên chỉ là một dự án làm mới thương hiệu và mô tả rõ hơn quy trình sản xuất. Như cái tên The Grants Whisky Triple Wood đã gợi ý, rượu được ủ trong 3 loại thùng khác nhau: Gỗ sồi nguyên chất để sản xuất hương gia vị, gỗ sồi Mỹ tạo hương vị vanilla và thùng gỗ bourbon để tạo vị ngọt.

Hương vị The Grants Whisky Triple Wood The Grants Whisky là loại whisky quyến rũ ngay từ lần thử đầu tiên. Khi bạn đưa ly lên mũi, một hương thơm ngọt ngào giống như rượu sherry bao trùm khứu giác. Hương thơm trái cây khô lôi cuốn ngay khi mở nắp trong khi hương gỗ và mạch nha tinh tế gia tăng chiều sâu cho trải nghiệm tổng thể.

Khi vào vòm miệng, hương vị dần bung tỏa với sự pha trộn hài hòa giữa vanilla, mật ong và các gia vị. Vanilla mang lại vị ngọt êm dịu, mật ong thêm vị đậm đà sang trọng và gia vị mang đến sự phức tạp thú vị. Ảnh hưởng của các loại ngũ cốc lâu năm và mạch nhà than bùn đều hiện diện, khiến mỗi ngụm rượu đều là một hành trình khám phá tuyệt diệu.

Kết thúc là minh chứng cho sự cao cấp của rượu Grants Triple Wood bởi nó kéo dài, êm dịu và ấm áp. Hơi ấm đọng lại trong vòm miệng cùng sự cân bằng giữa vị ngọt và các hương gia vị độc đáo, để lại ấn tượng khó phai.

Giá rượu The Grants Whisky Triple Wood Đây được đánh giá là dòng rượu mạnh có mức giá tương đối mềm dẻo. Hiện nay trên thị trường The Grants Whisky Triple Wood đang có giá dao động chỉ từ 345.000vnđ đến 425.000 đồng/chai, tùy vào số lượng, thời điểm và địa điểm mua hàng. Mức giá này rất phù hợp để bạn có thể phục vụ trong các bữa tiệc với nhiều loại cocktail khác nhau.

Rượu Tốt là địa chỉ cung cấp rượu bia ngoại nhập uy tín hàng đầu Việt Nam. Chúng tôi không chỉ cung cấp nguồn sản phẩm đa dạng chất lượng chính hãng mà còn có những offer về giá vô cùng mềm dẻo. Liên hệ với Rượu Tốt qua hotline để được tư vấn và có cơ hội nhận thêm nhiều phần quà hấp dẫn khi mua hàng ngay nào!

Một số công thức pha chế The Grants Whisky Triple Wood Bạn có thể thưởng thức Grant's trong một chiếc ly rock hoặc ly Glencairn. Rượu sẽ dễ chịu hơn khi được làm mát và đương nhiên, giống đa phần các loại rượu mạnh khác thì dòng rượu này cũng có thể uống cùng đá. Nếu uống với đá thì thực khách nên cân nhắc dùng ly rock thay vị ly Glencairn có dáng khá hẹp. Hoặc, bạn hoàn toàn có thể thêm một ít nước để trải nghiệm được trơn tru hơn. Cuối cùng, The Grants Whisky còn có thể dùng để pha chế cocktail whisky. Tham khảo một vài công thức phổ biến dưới đây:

Scotch Sour: Loại cocktail cổ điển này cần có 60ml Grants Triple Wood, 25ml nước cốt chanh tươi, 15ml siro đường và 15ml lòng trắng trứng tiệt trùng. Lắc đều các thành phần với đá, lọc đá rồi lại lắc đều. Rót rượu ra ly rock đổ đầy đá và trang trí với một xoắn vỏ cam hoặc một lát chanh để phục vụ.

Rob Roy: Các thành phần cho loại cocktail tuyệt đẹp này bao gồm 60ml The Grants Whisky, 30ml vermouth ngọt và 8 giọt rượu đắng Bob’s Abbotts. Khuấy đều các thành phần cùng đá trong cốc pha chế rồi lọc rượu vào trong một chiếc ly coupe. Trang trí bằng vỏ cam hoặc anh đào rồi thưởng thức.

Nguồn gốc rượu The Grants Whisky The Grants Whisky là sản phẩm của William Grant & Sons, một trong những công ty rượu whisky độc lập và do gia đình điều hành lâu đời nhất ở Scotland. Được thành lập vào năm 1887, công ty đã xây dựng nhà máy chưng cất Glenfiddich và Balvenie chỉ trong vòng vài năm. Chuyên về cả sản xuất rượu từ mạch nha đơn và hỗn hợp, Grant's là một trong những nhãn hiệu nổi tiếng nhất của công ty, đồng thời cũng là một trong những nhãn hiệu rượu Scotland do gia đình sở hữu lâu đời nhất ở nơi đây.

Thưởng thức The Grants Whisky Triple Wood chuẩn sành Chocolate đen thực sự làm nổi bật đặc tính hương vị của The Grants Whisky. Tương tự, quả óc chó tươi hoặc trái cây khô đều có thể tiếp nối liền mạch với trải nghiệm ban đầu của rượu. Trái cây sấy khô như nho khô, quả sung hoặc chà là sẽ giúp mang lại một số nét hương vị đặc sắc hơn.

Và ghép cặp với whisky thì xì gà cũng là một ý tưởng đáng cân nhắc. Với dòng rượu Grants này, hãy thử những điếu xì gà có cấu trúc từ medium tới full-bodied. Một điếu xì gà medium-bodied sẽ không lấn át hương vị rượu. Tuy nhiên, nếu bạn thích đôi chút táo bạo, hãy thử một điếu Plasencia Alma del Fuego. Còn nếu bạn muốn trải nghiệm nhẹ nhàng hơn thì Alma Fuerte của Plasencia hoặc Oliva Serie V Melanio Maduro đều là những lựa chọn hợp lý.

#wine #winelover #whisky #TheGrantsWhisky #ruoutot

[fiyatinedir]

Norlan Whiskey Bardak Özellikleri ve Fiyatı

Norlan Whiskey Bardakları, viski tutkunlarının damak tadına ve vizyonuna hitap eden özel tasarımıyla ünlüdür. Bu bardaklar, viskinin aromasını ve tadını maksimum düzeyde vurgulayan bir tasarıma sahiptir. İşte Norlan Whiskey Bardaklarının özellikleri ve fiyatı hakkında genel bilgiler:

Norlan Whiskey Bardak Özellikleri

Norlan Whiskey Bardak Özellikleri - Çift Duvar Tasarımı: Norlan bardakları, çift duvar tasarımına sahiptir. İki ince cam tabaka arasında hava izolasyonu yaratılarak içeceğin sıcaklığının daha uzun süre korunmasına yardımcı olur. Aynı zamanda bu tasarım, bardakların dış yüzeyinin sıcak veya soğuk içeceklere dokunurken elinizi yakmamanızı sağlar. - Whiskey Belirlenmiş Tasarım: Bardakların iç yüzeyi, viskinin aromalarını daha iyi yakalamak ve odaklamak amacıyla özel olarak tasarlanmıştır. Bu iç yüzey, viskiyi dairesel bir akışla döndürerek tadını ve kokusunu geliştirir. - Şık ve Modern Tasarım: Norlan bardakları, zarif ve modern bir tasarıma sahiptir. Estetik açıdan çekici olan bu bardaklar, viskiyi içerken keyifli bir deneyim sunar. - Kristal Kalitesinde Cam: Bardaklar, viski tadını bozmamak için en yüksek kalitede kristal camdan üretilmiştir. Bu cam malzeme, içeceğin tadını doğru bir şekilde iletmeye yardımcı olur. - Dayanıklılık: Norlan bardaklar dayanıklıdır ve uzun ömürlüdür. Kaliteli malzemelerden üretildiği için, uzun yıllar boyunca kullanabilirsiniz.

Norlan Whiskey Bardak Fiyatı

Norlan Whiskey Bardak Fiyatı Norlan Whiskey Bardaklarının fiyatı, model ve satıcıya göre değişebilir. Genellikle bir çift Norlan bardak setinin fiyatı ortalama olarak £48.00 ila £52.00 arasında değişmektedir.. Ancak özel tasarım veya koleksiyon için üretilmiş özel modeller daha yüksek fiyatlarla satılabilir. İçim TarzıFiyat (GBP)Fiyat (Türk Lirası)On the Rocks (1 Çift)£48.001,605.12 TLNice and Neat (1 Çift)£52.001,739.68 TLIn a Highball (1 Çift)£48.001,605.12 TLNorlan Whiskey Bardak Fiyat tablosu NYHT WHISKY ŞİŞESİ £354.00 (KDV dahil) yani 11.828,16 Türk Lirası'dır. Bu nedenle, Norlan Whiskey Bardakları'nın fiyatını belirlerken, satın almayı düşündüğünüz modeli ve satıcıyı dikkate almanız önemlidir. Ayrıca çeşitli çevrimiçi perakende siteleri veya yerel bar ekipmanları mağazaları gibi kaynaklarda farklı fiyatlarla karşılaşabilirsiniz. İhtiyaçlarınıza ve bütçenize en uygun seçeneği bulmak için birkaç farklı kaynağı karşılaştırmanızı öneririm. https://www.youtube.com/shorts/UBKdJkpqXW4 Norlan Whiskey Bardak Özellikleri ve Fiyatı Viski Fiyatları (Jack Daniels, Chivas Fiyatı) Baileys Nedir, Nasıl İçilir? Viski Terimler Sözlüğü Jim Beam: Amerika’nın En Popüler Bourbon Viskisi Scotch Blue Viski Fiyatı Yılanlı Viski Fiyatları En İyi Japon Viskileri Chivas Regal Orjinal Olduğu Nasıl Anlaşılır? Amerikan Viskileri: Tüm Bilmeniz Gerekenler! Whisky Sour Tarifi Blood And Sand Tarifi Viski Hakkında Sıkça Sorulan Sorular Viski Markaları ve Tarihleri Read the full article

[vangchatt]

Chivas 12 - Biểu tượng của sự tinh tế và đẳng cấp trong rượu whisky thế giới

Rượu Chivas 12 (Chivas Regal 12 Year Old) là một trong những sản phẩm nổi tiếng của thương hiệu rượu Scotch Chivas Regal, một biểu tượng của sự tinh tế và đẳng cấp trong rượu whisky thế giới. Được giới thiệu lần đầu tiên vào năm 1938, Chivas 12 đã nhanh chóng trở thành một trong những loại rượu whisky phổ biến và được yêu thích trên toàn thế giới. Trải qua hơn 80 năm phát triển, Chivas 12 vẫn giữ nguyên vị thế của một loại rượu sang trọng và đáng kinh ngạc.

1. Lịch sử và nguồn gốc Thương hiệu rượu Chivas Regal được thành lập bởi hai anh em John và James Chivas vào năm 1801 tại thành phố Aberdeen, Scotland. Ban đầu, họ kinh doanh cửa hàng tạp hóa và bán các loại thực phẩm đặc sản. Với lòng nhiệt huyết và đam mê nghệ thuật pha chế rượu, họ đã nhanh chóng chuyển hướng sang sản xuất và phân phối rượu whisky, đặc biệt là cho các vị công tước và tầng lớp quý tộc. Chivas 12 được giới thiệu vào năm 1938 Khởi đầu kỷ niệm sự thành công và phát triển thương hiệu. Với hương vị tinh tế và chất lượng đáng kinh ngạc, Chivas 12 nhanh chóng chinh phục trái tim của nhiều thượng đế và nhà lãnh đạo trên thế giới. 2. Process output Rượu Chivas 12 được sản xuất từ ​​sự kết hợp tinh tế của hàng chục loại rượu whisky có tuổi trên 12 năm từ các khu vực nổi tiếng của Scotland. Những thùng gỗ sồi được sử dụng để ủ rượu được lựa chọn thận trọng, tạo nên hương vị độc đáo và phong phú. Quá trình ủ rượu của Chivas 12 kéo dài ít nhất 12 năm, cho phép rượu whisky trưởng thành và phát triển hương vị độc đáo của nó. Trong suốt quá trình này, rượu whisky hấp thụ hương vị từ gỗ sồi và hòa quyện giữa mùi thơm đặc trưng của hoa quả chín mọng, hạnh nhân và hương socola. 3. Hương vị và mùi thơm Khi thưởng thức rượu Chivas 12, người ta sẽ cảm nhận được hương thơm dịu mát và quyến rũ từ những loại trái cây chín mọng như táo, lê và cam hiền. Hương vị của Chivas 12 mềm mại và mượt mà, kết hợp giữa vị ngọt ngào của caramel và hạnh nhân, cùng một chút hương cỏ và vani nhẹ nhàng. Nhấp vào rượu nhẹ trong rượu và để nó lan tỏa khắp vòm miệng, người thưởng thức sẽ cảm nhận được sự cân bằng và sự phức tạp của hương vị. Chivas 12 mang đến một trải nghiệm thưởng thức độc đáo, vừa êm dịu vừa phong phú, đậm chất Scotland. 4. Chivas 12 - Sự lựa chọn hoàn hảo Rượu Chivas 12 là một sự lựa chọn hoàn hảo cho những người yêu thích whisky và đam mê thưởng thức hương vị tinh tế. Với giá cả hợp lý và chất lượng đáng kinh ngạc, Chivas 12 thường được coi là loại rượu whisky "được trả giá tốt" trong nhiều bình chọn và danh sách đánh giá sản phẩm. Được pha chế với sự tỉ mẩn và tâm huyết từ những nghệ nhân pha chế phụ nữ kinh nghiệm, Chivas 12 đã đến với người thưởng thức một trải nghiệm tinh tế và đẳng cấp, nhưng không quá cầu kỳ hay biểu diễn. Đây là lý do tại sao Chivas 12 trở thành một trong những loại rượu whisky Scotch phổ biến và được ưa chuộng nhất trên toàn thế giới. 5. Kết luận Rượu Chivas 12 mang đến cho phần thưởng thức gia một trải nghiệm rượu whisky đích thực với hương vị nhẹ nhàng, phức tạp và tinh tế. Được sản xuất từ ​​sự kết hợp tinh tế của các loại rượu whisky có tuổi trên 12 năm. Tham khảo thêm các sản phẩm khác tại:  https://vangchat.com.vn/ Nguồn: Vang chất

[johnniewalkertwb]

Rượu mạnh là gì?! Những loại rượu mạnh nổi tiếng

1. Thế nào là rượu mạnh?

Rượu mạnh là những loại đồ uống có cồn có cao từ 40% ALC – 50% ALC. Những cái rượu mạnh này cũng là nguyên liệu nền pha chế ra đa dạng mẫu cocktail khác nhau. Bao gồm sở hữu 6 chiếc chính: Brandy, Vodka, Whisky, Gin, Rum và Tequila. Mỗi mẫu rượu mạnh sẽ được khiến nên từ những vật liệu cũng như thời kỳ cung cấp khác nhau, được lên men, chưng cất và trải qua thời gian ủ để tạo nên những loại rượu mạnh mang hương vị mặn mà say nồng.

Bài viết chi tiết tại: https://thewinebox.vn/ruou-manh/

2. Các chiếc rượu mạnh trên thế giới

Rượu Whisky – Rượu mạnh

Whisky – được biết tới là chiếc rượu mạnh khiến cho nên từ bác bỏ cất ngũ cốc (grain/ cereal) lên men như: bắp, lúa kiều mạch, lúa mạch, tiểu mạch, lúa mạch đen,… Rượu Whisky thường mang nồng độ cồn cao khoảng trong khoảng 40 tới 45% ALC, rượu với màu nâu hổ phách đẹp mắt và là 1 trong các thức uống biểu tượng của phái mạnh.

1 số thương hiệu phân phối rượu Whisky nổi tiếng như: Rượu Johnnie Walker, Dewar’s, J&B, Dewar’s, J&B, Bell’s, Label 5, Chivas Regal, rượu Hibiki…

Rượu Whisky chia làm 4 cái chính:

Scotch Whisky

American Whisky (Bourbon)

Canadian Whisky (Rye Whisky),

Irish Whiskey

2.1.1 Rượu Chivas

Rượu Chivas – một thương hiệu rất lừng danh của loại rượu ngoại trên toàn cầu

có nguồn cội trong khoảng quốc gia Scotland, Rượu Chivas – một nhãn hàng rất nức tiếng của chiếc rượu ngoại trên thế giới được đông đảo người mua hảo rượu ưa thích. Được lên men trong khoảng ngũ cốc và mạch nha, ủ trong những thùng gỗ sồi phổ biến năm cho ra 1 mẫu rượu mạnh với 1 mùi thơm đặc trưng là sự pha trộn giữa thảo mộc, cây thạch nam, mật ong và vị ngọt của những cái trái rừng… Chivas đã và đang gây được tiếng vang, chiếm lĩnh thị gần như của các chiếc Whisky trên thị trường:

Chivas 12

Chivas 18

Chivas 21

Chivas 25

Chivas 38

Chivas Regal Extra

Chivas 13 American Rye Cask

Chivas Mizunara

Chivas Regal Ultis

2.1.2 Rượu Singleton

Rượu Singleton

Rượu Singleton cung cấp tại nhà máy ven bờ sông Speyside, đây là khu vực trọng tâm cung cấp Whisky ở Scotland quy tụ hơn 50 nhà máy phân phối rượu m. Rượu Singleton đại diện cho sự khó tính, kĩ lưỡng trong khâu chế biến, mang những lúc dịch vụ chỉ chọn được khoảng 30% số hậu sự rượu trong đầy đủ mẻ rượu để bán ra thị phần.

vật liệu chính của rượu Singleton là lúa mạch và mạch nha cộng mang nước thuần khiết trong khoảng suối thiên nhiên, được chưng cất và ủ trong quan tài gỗ sồi Châu Âu tối thiểu 12 năm. 1 Mẻ rượu Singleton hoàn hảo sẽ sở hữu hương vị mạnh mẽ của vỏ cam khô, than bùn khô, thạch nam đốt và mềm mại từ sáp thơm, con đường nâu, hoa khô.

những cái rượu Singleton phổ biến:

Singleton of Glen Ord (dành cho thị phần Châu Á – thanh bình Dương).

Singleton of Dufftown (dành cho thị trường Châu Âu)

Singleton of Glen Dulland (dành cho thị phần Châu Mỹ).

2.1.3 Rượu Johnnie Walker

Rượu Johnnie Walker

Là một thương hiệu rượu Whisky Scotland, Rượu Johnnie Walker được với bởi Diageo, căn nguyên từ Kilmarnock, Ayrshire. Là 1 trong những nhãn dòng rượu whisky pha Scotland phổ thông được bán phổ quát nhất trên toàn cầu, sở hữu mặt ở đầy đủ khắp tất cả các nước có lượng bán ra 130 triệu chai 1 năm.

Johnnie Walker mang các loại rượu sau :

Red Label: Là chiếc rượu được phối chế trong khoảng 35 loại Whisky khác nhau mang lại hương vị hòa quyện tuyệt vời.

Gold Label: Là dòng rượu mạnh tổng hợp từ 15 dòng Whisky quý hãn hữu với hương vị của trái cây và mật ong.

Black Label: Được xem rượu Whisky sang trọng, biểu tượng cho sức mạnh và sự tao nhã, phối chế từ 40 chiếc rượu Whisky, mỗi cái đều mang tuổi tối thiểu là 12 năm. Hương vị của Black Label là vị cay nồng của gỗ Sồi, mù tạt, khói. Đây cũng là loại Johnnie Walker bán chạy nhất trong những shop miễn thuế trên khắp thế giới.

Double Black: sử dụng phần lớn là các cái Whisky trong khoảng vùng bờ biển phía Tây của Scotland đem lại vị khói hơn dòng Black Label thường ngày.

Green Label: dòng Johnnie Walker được phối chế từ Whisky lên men trong khoảng mạch nha của các vùng sản xuất lừng danh của Scotland ấy là Highland, Speyside và Isley. Nguồn vật liệu sử dụng để làm ra Green Label được lấy từ 27 nơi bác cất rượu khắp quốc gia Scotland, mỗi cái có độ tuổi tối thiểu là 15 năm, mẫu rượu này mang mùi táo chín đỏ, vị ngọt của mạch nha, mùi khói than bùn khô mang đến hương vị cực kỳ trong lành, sảng khoái.

Blue Label: Đây là loại sản phẩm cao cấp nhất của Johnnie Walker , Số năm ủ rượu ko được bật mí . Blue Label với hương vị phức hợp được Hòa quyện sành điệu nhất và là mẫu Scotch Whisky được ngợi ca trên khắp thế giới