bourbon tasting

3

Scientists invented a synthetic tongue that can taste whiskey better than any human

  • The robots may soon take one of the best jobs of them all: whiskey taste-testing.
  • Scientists recently designed a set of sensors, playfully called a “tongue,” that can analyze the chemical composition of whiskey and tell us about its age, country of origin and malt status.
  • The sensors are made of glowing solutions that change brightness when drops of whiskey are added to them. The result ultimately indicates different properties of the liquor — which may be noticeable to a whiskey master, but without the chemical certainty. Read more (6/9/17)

follow @the-future-now

Team Voltron themed drinks!

In light of season 3 releasing soon and planning a viewing party with some of my friends, I recently started thinking about making themed drinks after certain characters and what-not (seeing as I’m the designated bartender of my friend group lol). There’s obviously TONS of different drinks you can make to fit a character, but I took a bit of liberty to fantasize what drinks I’d love to make (had I the time and money); these aren’t arbitrary choices either. I primarily chose drinks that I thought reflected certain character aspects, so I’ve included a small analysis along with each drink choice.

note: for practical reasons (like if ppl actually wanted to make themed drinks) I’ve included both a simplified mixed drink alternative (which, let’s be real, that’s what I’m actually making) AND a non-alcoholic alternative (which are super basic im sorry but it’s the best i could do)

Let’s get mixing!


Shiro – “Boulevardier”

This is one of the few drinks I chose based more on personality than appearance. Most purple cocktails just didn’t quite ring true for Shiro’s full-bodied character, so I went with my gut feeling and started browsing some bourbon based drinks. After going through a few classic recipes, I settled on a Boulevardier. What it contains:

  • 1.5 oz Bourbon
  • ¾ oz Sweet vermouth
  • ¾ oz Campari
  • Orange or cherry as a garnish
  • Served over ice optional

Shiro, as a character, radiates a sense of maturity and warmth. He is kind and caring, but knows when to take charge of his team and push harder. The subtle sweet undertones in bourbon and the warmth of dark liquor, I feel, reflect these aspects of his character very well. Sweet vermouth, like bourbon, has those husky, herbal undertones; it’s basically a wine spiked with brandy and slightly sweetened. Campari is a liqueur made from infused herbs and fruit, a sweet and spicy flavor. This is, in essence, a darker drink, and one that is probably an acquired taste; aka, this is not a beginner or casual drink. It’s a drink I think is well suited to our beloved enigmatic leader, the Head of Voltron, pilot of the Black Lion. It has warmth and depth, a complexity of flavors that matches Shiro’s nuances in character.

Practical party alternative: any type of whiskey and coke (though I still recommend bourbon, it tastes better imo); you can also do a spiced rum and coke if you’re not a whiskey person.

Non-alcoholic alternative: honestly? cherry coke or like…diet coke with lime strike me as very Shiro for some reason lol.

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New Zealand Gothic
  • Australia stole pavlova. Australia stole Phar Lap. Australia stole your family dog, Rex. Who will be next? You are afraid to know when Australia’s kleptomania will claim you.
  • For some reason you cant quite place, rainbows fill you with an overwhelming sense of bitterness towards France.
  • You pass a sheep on the road. Soon, another. The wall of white becomes blinding. It will soon be their time.
  • You met Jemaine Clement on Cuba Street yesterday. You met Jemaine Clement on Cuba Street today. You will meet Jemaine Clement on Cuba St tomorrow. He waits. He watches. He judges. 
  • A minimum wage store worker acts strangely. Jono and Ben slink from the shadows. A celebrity tweets about a peculiar interview. Jono and Ben lurk in the darkness. A Bugs Bunny bouncy castle floats over Lake Taupo while a banana boat is pulled across the Cook Strait. Jono and Ben. This is normal.
  • The ginger spaceman with the mustache reminds you of someone. A man named Murray. Murray, when did you go to space?
  • You accidentally stray into the university quarter. The students hands end in stumps that bleed awful cider. An unmoving body lies in the corner. You have a Speights in your hand. It is morning and you remember nothing.
  • Every year, Aucklanders are rolled down a hill. This goes unquestioned.
  • You see smoke rising in the distance. You hang your head in reverence to the brave furniture sacrificed to the young and foolish.
  • Someone mentions the ANZACs. You embrace the closest Australian warmly.  Someone mentions underarm bowling. A new name appears in the obituaries.
  • An iconic bird perches in a yellow-flowered tree. You can’t help but blame the nation’s drinking culture on it. It sets a bad example.
  • Sir Peter Jackson sees that Weta Workshops workers work hard. The insects will soon cast of the chains of his tyrannical oppression. The time is now.
  • The wind blows cold and sharp in Wellington. It shears the flesh from your bones and you are reborn anew in the cold and salt of the capital.
  • You are travelling south. The Cook Strait ends and the road begins. What happens in between, you have forgotten. You’re not sure if it was ever really there.
  • A bogan approaches you. You suddenly feel the creeping of hair on your neck and the taste of bourbon in your throat.  He calls you cunt. You feel welcome.
  • Fate made the kiwi flightless. The alternative was far worse.
  • Australia is the most dangerous Pacific country. Everybody agrees. Somewhere, deep in the flow of history, an eagle caws. A baby cries nearby.
  • The political direction of the nation is determined by bees. From their hive, they manipulate our country to their will.
  • A foreigner asks you if you’re Australian. You feel a wisp of your soul seep away. Little by little, the Australians grow stronger. You refuse to let them win.
  • A man encountering a Tyrannosaurus rex fills you with an odd sense of national pride.
  • Your dead friend offers you incorporeal fries. A swell of guilt and frustration builds inside. It’s puzzle time. Monique was right.
  • A minnit passes. And the nek. And the nek. The slow, lumbering passage of time wears away at you, pulling you to pieces like an abandoned scooter.
  • For some reason, an overheated pie fills you with concern for New Zealand’s nuclear-free image. Someone blows on it. Your concerns are appeased.
  • A mountain parrot steals your window wipers. It steals your passport. It steals your identity. Who are you now?
arranged marriage; jungkook x reader (part 1)

Originally posted by dream-bts

for better understanding please read the description and foreword here;

genre: fluff, romance, angsty?

word count: 9.457;

a/n: thank you so much for reading this little story with jungkook; jimin x reader as well;  has a few swear words, nothing violent; if you like it please let me know; lots of love and hugs

PART I

Impressions:

“So,” Taehyung paused, adjusting his voice with a sunken cough, “You are her bodyguard, right?” He asked, turning his head to the right in Jimin’s direction as he wrapped his fingers tightly over the drinking glass filled with bourbon. Taehyung despised drinking, but he loved sipping from a classy glass of bourbon from time to time, especially when he was nervous – there was something about the smoky taste of bourbon that offered a sense of calmness to him. He was not an alcoholic, just a casual drinking.

Jimin snatched his glare from his own glass and looked directly at Taehyung, keeping his lips in a straight line during the whole time, “And you are his?” Jimin asked, tapping the bar’s woodened surface with the bottom of his glass filled with just plain water, evidently irritated by Taehyung’s question.

Even if he looked like one, Jimin disliked to be labelled just as your bodyguard, your subaltern. The fact that outsiders saw him as a part of your personal staff and security infuriated Jimin, he was pissed that he was always reminded of his mere position. Not your acquaintance, not your friend – just the guy who stood next to you. Thinking about that, his fingers wrapped even tighter around the glass.  

Taehyung chuckled, “Do I even look like I could be a bodyguard?” He asked as he shook his head in disapproval, “I am Jungkook’s best friend; I am here to guard him up from that kind of a position.” He answered, resting one of his elbows on the counter and slightly touching the bottom of his lips with two of his fingers, “He is not very good with girls, you know.” Taehyung added, subtlety watching his best friend over his shoulder, “He has never been on a date before.”

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Wanna taste more?

A small thing and because I had something special in mind, it totally didn’t work which… not a surprise here. A lot of thanks and love to @maliex for helping me with all the mistakes and wrong words! If it’s as good as it is, it’s because of them <3. Enjoy!


Tony doesn’t know when it had started, but suddenly Bucky’s mad at him.

After weeks, months of good natured banter, of nice talks and trading ideas, of spending time together in the workshop, playing with an engine from his collection of cars it came  like a slap to the face. Bucky’s absence is like another arc reactor in Tony’s chest, a hole that can’t be filled and he doesn’t understand how it had happened.

They were fine, really, and suddenly they weren’t anymore.

The first hint of trouble doesn’t seem like much, but it becomes the beginning of a slow downfall.

“Buck-o, you coming? Steve’s preparing movie night an-”

“Not coming,” Bucky said coldly, his eyes never leaving the book he was reading. It wasn’t weird in itself, but Bucky had always taken the time to look at Tony when speaking to him. Well. Until now.

“Everything ok?”

Tony took a few steps further into the room only to freeze in place when Bucky finally lifted his head and looked at Tony. Bucky’s eyes were hard as steel.

“Everything’s fine, Tony. You should go.”

Tony swallowed the concerned questions, the worry that was starting to gnaw at his insides and nodded. Without adding anything else, the genius turned heel and left the room.

 (mobile readers, beware the cut! There’s a read more.)

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I Need To See Her

Masterlist  

Pairing: Kai x Reader

Summary: After having an argument with Kai you go to Stefan’s house since his your best friend. Kai later comes over to apologize because he feels guilty for yelling at you.


It was possibly the worst argument ever to occur between you and Kai. Things has been tough for him ever since he had inherited emotions. No-one around Mystic Falls could comprehend why on earth you would believe Kai has changed, let alone start any romantic relationship with him. That’s why every single time you showed up on Stefan’s doorstep, he automatically knew why and used that to try and convince you that you deserved better. He made it no secret that he wasn’t Kai’s biggest fan.

“Another fight”, Stefan stated as he welcomed you into the Salvatore household.
Taking off your coat that was keeping you warm from the brisk winter air, Stefan offered you a drink which you took and proceeded to sit on the couch.

“Not a fight, just a small heated argument”. You responded, although that still didn’t sound any better.

He sighed and took the opposite couch, “Y/N-”.

Putting your hand up to signal he didn’t need to say another word. “I know what you’re going to say Stefan. That I’m in way over my head, I’m a fool for believing Kai has changed and my personally favourite, I deserve way better than him”. Taking a sip, the strong taste of bourbon slide down your throat.

“Can you blame me? I hate that every time that doorbell rings there is a strong possibility that you’re standing on the other side, either in tears or in complete anger because of something Kai did. We’re best friends Y/N, my job is to protect you”.

Finishing off the drink, you set the glass down on the table. “I hear you, really I do. And I’m more than grateful for your friendship Stefan. But sometimes it’s hard to explain what you see in a person”. Standing up, you made your way over to Stefan’s side of the couch and sat beside him.

Continuing to speak as you got comfortable. “But your love life isn’t exactly relationship goals either, I mean Katherine Pierce and Rebekah Mikaelson”. Poking Stefan in the chest, he lightly smiled.

“Okay, I see your point but that still doesn’t change how I feel”. He wrapped an arm around you leaning it against the back of the couch. This wasn’t unusual. Stefan and you had always been close, so little things like this was merely an affection of friendship and not anything romantic.

“Do you mind if I quickly go have a shower?”. You asked, getting up from the couch.

Stefan shook his head. “Nope, go ahead”. As you were walking down the long hallway, you reached the stairs and heard Stefan call out. “There’s a spare set of your clothes in the drawer, you know the ones you left the last time you were here”.

You could sense the cheeky tone in his voice. Climbing the stairs you shouted back, “Very funny Stefan”.

While you were off showering, Stefan was cleaning up the two glasses when the doorbell rang. He automatically regretted opening the door, because there stood Kai. Rubbing his hands together he stopped when he came face to face with Stefan.

“Look, your not my biggest fan and I get why. But I know Y/N is here, she always comes here. So please can I come in?”. Kai asked, in fact begged.

At this point Stefan has his arms crossed and wasn’t looking all that thrilled, “She’s better off without you. So give me one good reason why I should let you in”.

Kai sighed. “You really need to ease up on this dramatic brooding demeanor you’ve got going on. I’m trying to be polite here Stefan, so can you just please step aside and let me enter?”.

Stefan didn’t move for at least a few minutes, he eventually allowed Kai in but kept a hawk like stare on him as he sat down on the couch.

Not one of them said a single word, it was like an intense game of who would blink first. Kai exhaled. “I need to see her, I need to apologize”.

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen”. Stefan retaliated.

Kai smirked and got up to the same eye level, “Is this the part where you tell me I’m not good enough for her? Because if so that’s such an overused term in this town, not to mention extremely cliche. I’m trying to change Stefan and I can’t do that if you keep acting like an overprotective ass”.

Stefan was ready to come back with a witty response, when you entered the living room feeling all fresh and clean from the shower. “Kai?”.

He took a step back from Stefan and gave you a small, shy wave. “I’m so sorry Y/N. The argument was stupid and it only happened because I’m still trying to deal with, well…everything. Let’s just go to Mystic Grill, grab some lunch and talk about this”. He took a few steps to reach where you were standing, his height hovering over you.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Stefan roll his eyes at Kai’s apology attempt.

“Pretty please with a cherry on top”, Kai sweetly added while pouting. It was something you couldn’t resist, and a small smile played on your lips.

“Fine, but only because I’m hungry. But your still going to have to work on the apology”. Pointing a finger at him to let Kai know you were serious.

He broke out in a grin. “That’s fair, I’ll take it”.

You knew Stefan didn’t approve just by the look on his face. But like you told him earlier, sometimes a person just can’t explain what they see in another.

Things not to say to your ex

I love you

I miss hanging out with your brother

Your cats an asshole

I like your cat more than you

Sometimes it’s hard to sleep at night without you

Do you ever think about us?

My mother was right about you

This bourbon tastes kinda like that lip balm you had

I am drunk

I am very drunk.

I just wanted you to know that I care about you

I just… What am I to you?

Do you ever think about us?

Does it ever bother you?

Do you miss me?

Did I mean as much as he does?

Do I mean anything?

Do the storms scare you more now too?

Do you still shut the lights off three times and lock the door six and does that drum beat still invade your soul?

Do you still sleep with one eye open and your fists clenched with your dreams chained to the head of the bed so your father can’t take them too?

I can’t breathe anymore cause the air here doesn’t smell like you anymore and now I can’t sleep without the ceiling fan on and I don’t think depression cares that much whether or not I sleep or if I eat or if I ever get over you. It just eats the pain and demands more.

I miss you

Goodnight

You Heard? - Elijah Mikaelson

(NOT MY GIF)

Summary: reader and her best friend go to New Orleans to visit Kol and Elijah but the older Mikaelson seems to have moved on with Hayley?

A/N: currently am writing a Tristan smut lol! I do apologize for my lack of uploads I just can’t write sometimes haha

Word Count: 1122

Warnings: angst and fluff


Jealousy? Anger? Pain? You couldn’t describe what you felt walking into that party. Seeing Hayley in Elijah’s arms broke your heart and you felt embarrassed you had even come to see him—stupid even. Kol was dating your best friend, they’d met in Mystic Falls and so when he invited her to visit she brought you too seeing that you and Elijah had a ‘fling’. To you is wasn’t a fling, it was the one thing you thought of when you were down. Just the thought of being with Elijah made your mood brighten so when he told you he was moving you broke and now here you were, heartbroken that he seemed to be getting on just fine.

“(Y/N)?” Kol asked confused seeing your broken expression. “Are you okay?”

You simply nodded, the tears threatening to spill but you wouldn’t allow it. You worked too hard on your makeup for tonight and (Y/F/N) was happy so you wouldn’t ruin that. She followed your gaze however and instantly grew angry, knowing how much that man meant to you just to throw your feelings away.

“Kol, who is that girl with Elijah?” Your friend asked.

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anonymous asked:

Kirk. 71

71: “You’ve been drinking tonight, haven’t you?” ft. Jim Kirk

(Definitely not requested by @my-dreams-are-not-unlike-yours. Not even a little bit)

Part of my 1000 Follower Fun drabbles set

Originally posted by captainprincesskk

By the time Jim managed to haul himself back into the turbolift; his mind was a whirling mess of flashing lights and sweaty palms. He could still taste the bourbon on his lips; he licked it off, the burn warming the inside of his cheeks. Chekov’s birthday wasn’t until next week, but somehow they’d found themselves digging into the crates they kept in storage. He had been sent to go and find more while Bones and Scotty dealt in a poker hand; but he wasn’t sure he was ready to lose more money to those two.

The lift clicked and Jim haphazardly stumbled out: only to smack into someone on his exit.
(y/n) yelped, holding out her hands to brace the young Captain as he straightened up, sniffing and tilting his head.
“That’s…wow, a good catch” Jim grinned, swaying slightly. The lights were all blurry and his head swam with colour.
“It’s hard not to catch you when you collapse onto me in a heap” (y/n) said, her voice laced with amusement as she looked him up and down.
Jim rolled his eyes dramatically, leaning his hand against the turbolift door.
“You’ve been drinking tonight, haven’t you?” (y/n) added, folding her arms to her chest and raising her brow.
Jim winced, pinching his index finger to his thumb and holding it up to her. Her face contorted and he scoffed.
“You’re hot when you’re mad” he hiccuped, stumbling backwards as his knees lead him in the wrong direction.
(y/n) blushed at that, wrinkling her nose.
“Come on then. Let’s figure out what to do with you” she mused, linking her arm under his and shuffling him down the corridor.

In another universe, you don’t cling to me like cobwebs, sticky and unseen. In this life, you’ve never touched me at all.
In another universe, I don’t have to write bad poetry about your mouth because I’ve never kissed it. I don’t know that you taste like bourbon.
In another universe, I can still drink without thinking about your tongue.
In another universe, my hands are never near your hands and my bed is always empty but it still feels full with just me inside of it.
In another universe, I’ve never met you and I don’t wish for you.
Everyone always says, in another life, I will love you better. I will love you longer and shake the stars from the sky.
Well I say,
In another universe, I will never love you at all. This will be my rebirth and my baptism because in this world where your hands don’t exist, I am finally free.
—  and I am better for it. (via @brizzlewritesthings)

Bravo Brown is a American #BrownAle style #beer brewed by @firestonewalker. in Paso Robles, #california with a 95 out of 100 on @beeradvocate. Pineapple for scale .
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Firestone Walker brews the 2017 Vintage of Bravo, an Imperial #BrownAle aged in retired American oak bourbon barrels. A single-hopped strong brown ale brewed using the hop variety Bravo. This beer is then aged for up to a year in circa 1990’s used Heaven Hill bourbon barrels.
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Deep cherry brown which has a very thin creamy head with a good carbonation. Aroma of coconut and bourbon. Tastes similar to the nose. Mouthfeel is smooth with a lot of alcohol warmth. Overall it’s a good bourbon barrel aged beer.

Chance Encounter (Sam Drake x Female Reader)

Background :  It’s been about a week and half since Rafe got Sam from prison.  They are driving back to Rafe’s compound before going to search for Avery’s treasure, but because the world still needs to believe Sam is dead, their travel can’t be documented.  Rafe buys an old car with cash and they begin their road trip, stopping in small towns for the night.  While Rafe sleeps in the room, Sam goes to the nearest bars to find a cold drink and warm body. This is one such night.

Warnings : NSFW Text

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Darkness and Light

Characters: Sam, Dean, Castiel, Reader/Ariel (appearances by Mary and John Winchester)

Word Count: 1639

Warnings: A little fluff, a little angst, slightly graphic suicide/self-harm, brief character death.

Prompt: The Light by Disturbed

A/N: Hello hello! This is kind of funny because it’s for both @mrsbatesmotel53 and her Motel Playlist Challenge, and @iwantthedean‘s YouAU Challenge played well into the little bit of mind-fuckery that takes place in this fic. Just to clarify, this is a third part of the Love’s Soldier series. Reading the first two definitely helps. This gets kinda dark pretty damn quick. 

I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.

Originally posted by thecwspn

Play catch up - read Give and Take and Wicked and Divine to see where the fantasy begins…

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i. you were drunk. i’d never tasted alcohol before but i’d smelled it on my mother’s breath, and it smelled a lot heavier on yours. you were my first taste of anything, my first innocent plunge into the waters of adolescent lust, and you were my first exercise in idealization. you told me i was a bad kisser. i took it to heart, and decided i would practice before i kissed you again, but i never got to.


ii. we forged something out of nothing. the wilderness of it all was almost too much for me to wrap my mind around. you were weird and i was lonely. we were blind toxicity, three years of it – well, almost. we were two years and eight months of stupid teenage idleness and wandering hands and getting yelled at for making out in stairwells. i threw it away because you treated me like nothing and for once, i just wanted the upper hand.


iii. you were my way out. you were another pawn in my selfish game. i should’ve treated you like a person. i shouldn’t have begged you to kiss me back. but all i could think about was the fact that you weren’t him, and your lips would do nicely for a change. if i weren’t so observant i would never have noticed the way your gaze lingered every tuesday, and perhaps i wouldn’t be here – so i guess i’m thankful for it all.


iv. hello, destruction. i never imagined you’d look so beautiful. i never thought something so lovely would be my catalyst to pure madness. you woke up something inside me in the dead of winter. you were older and you were wild and adventurous and i was on the verge of adulthood and i decided to hitch a ride. you broke me in june; november was when the storm came. i remember tasting your tears when we kissed on the porch. i tried to make us something we weren’t. it was never your fault. i should have loved you more purely. i’m sorry.


v. new year’s eve. i was your placeholder and you were mine, but we didn’t know it until afterwards. we laughed about it. you’re alright.


vi. your kiss meant more because i waited 60 days and some change for it. it also cost me, ultimately, 1200 miles on my odometer and my ability to trust. i should have known you were too good to be true, but you made everything look so pretty – i couldn’t break my own heart even if i tried. i saw it coming and handed you your weapon anyway. please, please…just treat her better.


vii. i never thought i’d meet someone less in control of their own life than i am, but there’s a first time for everything, isn’t there? you always tasted like bourbon – which was fine, at first, because i really like bourbon – except one night we were lying on your mattress without a frame (yeah, one of those guys, you were) and you were telling me how stifling it was to be sober, how you always wanted to be drunk or high once you could afford to be. i felt the disconnect there and decided to break it off – but how on earth did you manage to turn the tables so that i felt as though i was the one being shortchanged?


viii. i almost saw a quirky indie movie in you. i turned you down but you persisted; i mean, you were really interested. or so i thought. you asked me about everything under the sun and i talked because you liked to listen. you were a christian, and exuded spirituality; i think maybe my lack thereof turned you off, but i’ll never know what the issue was because you never gave me an answer. maybe i had something in my teeth? figures.


ix. i knew we were incompatible from the get-go but i was tired of feeling unsuccessful in my romantic endeavors, and there was something different about you that i knew i had to try on for size. unfortunately, that ‘something different’ was a truckload of baggage attached to an ex-lover that, let’s face it, i could never live up to. your bedroom was dark and cramped, and you drank too much beer. i hope you’re alright, though – and i hope you’re over her.


x. you. have i even found the words for you yet? they float within me unattached to anything because there’s no gravity when i’m around you. when i look at you i know that i’ll never be able to make sense of myself but that’s okay; you seem content with doing it for me. you are sunlight in the middle of the night and warm blankets in faraway places. you are more than that. you are a confidant, you are a dream. i never want to wake up; i will always see your smile behind my eyelids. i hope i never have to taste another pair of lips again.

—  letters to people i’ve kissed
Hiatus Fic #3

Title: Prompt #3 - Taste

Written for the Olicity Hitaus Fic-A-Thon started by @thebookjumper

Read on AO3 or ff.net

She misses the taste of him the moment the door closes behind him.

Dinner had gone well, better than well really, and by the time they’d returned to the loft, she had convinced herself that it wouldn’t hurt anything if she invited him to stay over.  They’d agreed to go slow, to start over and take things one step at a time.  She’d made the first move with a desperate kiss on Lian Yu before following it up by asking him to dinner on their flight home.  It was a date, a real one, at a nice little Italian bistro – much like where they’d had their first disastrous date – and it couldn’t have gone better.  They’d both been so at ease, so relaxed, to finally be back where they both belonged.  Together.  But when Oliver had walked her to the front door of the loft and she had invited him in for coffee, the air between them had thickened, crackling with tension.  He’d had her backed against a pillar before she could get a word out, his mouth fused with hers, his tongue begging for entry.  They’d ended up stretched out on the sofa where they’d made out like unruly teenagers for close to an hour.  When Oliver had finally pulled himself away and stared down at her with flushed cheeks and mussed hair, the invitation to spend the night had been on the tip of her tongue.  But she hadn’t gotten the chance to verbalize it.  He’d sat up, taking her with him, and gave her one last kiss before backing his way to the door.

Now, as she sits curled into the corner of her sofa in front of a dwindling fire, she can still taste him on her lips.  He’d tasted of bourbon and Bolognese and that distinct taste that belonged solely to him.  The one she had spent more than a year craving.  She’d tried to move on after the mistake they’d made in the bunker, after she’d let herself go one single time, but there was no replacing Oliver in her life.  She’d come to that conclusion rather quickly.

She sighs, her head falling to the back of the couch, and closes her eyes.

She had been the one to suggest taking things slow.  To easing back into their relationship one step at a time.  And she knows that it’s the right thing to do, that they need more time to figure out who they are separately and who they can be together.  But she’s not sure that she can handle slow, that she can take this snail’s pace that she inadvertently subjected herself to.  

Felicity snorts to herself, her head rolling along the couch.

“We just made it past first base and were well on the way to second,” she says to the empty room, “I guess we’re not going that slow.”

But even as the words leave her lips, she finds herself longing for more.  She imagines what would have happened if he’d stayed, if Oliver hadn’t adhered to her request and put on the brakes.  She imagines they would’ve ended up upstairs, in the room they used to share, a trail of clothes left in their wake.  And she would’ve gotten more than just a taste of his lips.  Because her mouth would’ve found his ear and slid down the column of his throat.  She would’ve sucked a mark into his collarbone while he fisted his hands in her loose hair, drawing her closer, holding her there.  She would’ve tasted the salt on his skin and the faint trace of his soap.  

She shudders and groans and clenches her thighs as a heavy ache settles low in her belly.  It’s been too damn long and she knows what she needs, what she wants.  She wants Oliver.  She wants him in her life, in her home and in her bed, and she doesn’t care about taking it slow.  Not really.  She’d thought, when the bombs had begun detonating on that island, that she would never see him again.  That she’d never have the chance to remind him that she loved him.  And she had – has – so many regrets.  The most prominent being that she hadn’t had the chance to marry him, to marry the love of her life.  She doesn’t want to live with that regret anymore.

Reaching for her phone where it lies on the coffee table, she pauses only when it’s securely in her hand.  Her finger hovers over the screen.

It takes all of her self-restraint not to call him and ask him to come back.  She misses him, she does, but she’s sure he’s already home, possibly already in bed.  And while she knows without a doubt that, if she did call, he’d come back to her without question, she makes the decision that what she wants to say to him can wait.  She’ll give herself time to cool off, to let her hormones settle to a more respectable level, before she tells Oliver what it is that she really wants.  She doesn’t want to go slow.  She doesn’t want to take things one step at a time.  No, the one thing that Felicity wants more than anything, is Oliver Queen by her side. As her friend, her partner, and – hopefully soon – her husband.