#does balsamic vinegar go bad

[healthlifeai]

Health Benefits of Balsamic Vinegar You Should Know

Discover the amazing health benefits of balsamic vinegar! Learn how this flavorful ingredient can enhance your well-being and elevate your dishes.

[theesirenteller]

𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐫

【Description】

Set in season four of Good Girls; Epiphany Martinez is a freshman in college, heavily into the party scene. she lives her life on the edge with Molly under her tongue. when her co-worker, Annie puts her onto a new dealer attraction blooms, and the lines between business & pleasure blur.

════ ⋆♱⛧⋆ ════

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞 ♦ 𝓔𝔂𝓮𝓼 𝓞𝓯 𝓟𝓻𝓮𝔂 ♦ Masterlist

"Mierda" Epiphany groaned as she pulled her face back from the drool-drenched pillow. The blaring of her alarm stopped as she crashed her fist against it. 3 p.m. it read. "Fuck!" she quickly shot out of her mountain of covers and rushed to the bathroom. The process of freshening up and getting herself decent for auditions felt like a blur. She hadn't even gotten a proper breakfast; just stale nachos and salsa. One minute she was in her shared bathroom and the next she was rushing into Sweet P's gentlemen's club which was located eight blocks from her apartment.

"Well if it isn't my fave party animal, my main squeeze." Annie Boland greeted as she approached the hungover college student, "You look like shit, dude." 

"Oh I feel like shit too, trust me." Epiphany replied after she caught her breath. "Sorry I'm lat-"

"Auditions are over." 

Epiphany was cut off by an uppity voice that she wasn't familiar with. Which caused her to turn her attention towards it. The college freshmen came face to face with a heavy busted red-haired woman who looked to be in her mid-forties. Her aesthetic screamed Stepford wife. Maybe it was her cardigan or her layered sidebang hairstyle. whatever it was, she just screamed suburbia.

"Aw Beth come on, let her audition," Annie replied with a groan.

"No." Beth said quickly before looking at Epiphany up and down, "Sorry, we've already picked our set of girls."

Epiphany scoffed with a roll of her eyes before she snickered "Oh you mean Gene's ol girls? Good luck with that." Her attention shifted over to Annie once again, "See you around Annie." and with that turned on her heel.

"And you think you can do better, kid?" How old are you? another voice called out causing epiphany to look over her shoulder.

"She's from Vegas, of course, She can do better, Ruby!" Annie vouched. 

She hadn't known Epiphany very long, only two months to be exact but Annie had made great friends with the college student. The two clicked instantly after meeting and chit-chatting at the mini-mart. The two bonded over liking balsamic vinegar and onions over their french fries.  

The hefty-set umber-skinned woman sighed before she turned her attention to the strawberry blonde, "Let her audition Beth. The more women that can bring in profits the better." 

Beth pursed her lips as she sucked in a scowl. She looked between Ruby and Annie for a few moments before shifting her attention over to Epiphany. "How old are you?" 

A look of amusement flashed across Epiphany's face as she watched the women in front of her, "I'm twenty-two." she replied before asking, "Have any of you got any dancing experience? Ever worked in show business or the strip club before."

"No, of course not!" Beth snapped, "What does that have to do with anything?" she proceeded to ask.

Epiphany took a few steps forward as she shrugged her shoulders," It means you aren't qualified to be hosting auditions. And I doubt you even enjoy going to strip clubs to watch the performances."

"I have," Annie spoke up with a grin as she raised her hand. "Have you guys ever seen a pair of boobies covered in glitter bounce? looks like two light bulbs from heaven." 

Epiphany eyed Annie and shook her head as she bit back laughter. " A glorious sight ain't it?" she goofed. her expression turned serious as she then turned her attention back towards Annie's busty sister. "How about I just perform opening night and if you magically don't like it, I'll leave." she propositioned.

"That's not a bad idea Beth. I'm tired and need to get home and start on dinner." Ruby spoke up. The mother of two already had a bias towards strip clubs and sitting in one for the last two hours made her skin crawl.

Beth's lips formed into a straight line as she scrunched her nose and closed her eyes. Her fists balled up at her sides as she rumbled out an exaggerated groan. "Fine!", the moment she opened her eyes and shot Epiphany a slight glare. "Be there an hour before and not a minute later." The college student paid the strawberry-haired woman no mind and instead smiled when Annie cheered and clapped. "Woohoo! Yes!" Annie cheered before high-fiving Epiphany with both hands. 'We're totally gonna celebrate after…I say Chick-fil-A"

♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪𓆩♡𓆪☆♡𓆪𓆩♡⊹˚.♡

Opening night came quicker than Beth and the girls would've hoped. Beth had been betting on Rio not showing up but unfortunately for her…he did. He and Mick had arrived just a few moments after the club got packed with eager men who were ready to spend their money. The mother of two did her best to ignore him as she sipped on her strawberry margarita. Her shoulders relaxed as the vodka settled her down. Friskily she adjusted her the cleavage of her v-neck blouse lower than its proper fit before her green eyes settled over to where he sat. Her breath hitched when their eyes met. He had been already looking at her when she turned to look at him. Rio was the type of man to cause shivers to run across her skin. Her palms grew sweaty and the valley between her thighs grew even more moist. She couldn't help but shift in her seat.

Meanwhile, Epiphany had arrived late with rollers in her hair while dressed in a fluffy pink 'Playboy Bunny' robe as she rushed into the club through the back door. Speed walking to the locker room, her fuschia-pink kitten heels clicked loudly behind her. Bags under her eyes from cramming in back-to-back study sessions after a long night to early morning house party hopping. The girl was beaten but that was nothing that her favorite concealer couldn't fix. Once she'd removed her robe and carried her Prada cosmetic bag to the lined vanity in the dressing room; Epiphany worked quickly in the mirror to apply shimmery fuschia and gold eyeshadow.. She then sprayed her thick thighs and perky breasts with glittery golden bronzer. A bubbly voice quickly caught her attention causing Epiphany to look up into the mirror. A topless brunette smiled widely at her. "Hey, what's up?" Epiphany greeted her.

"Hi! I'm Krystal." She grinned, "You must be the new girl Annie's been talking about. Definitely Gorg, you're totally giving Selma Hayak vibes from that vamp movie. Beth didn't think you'd show. She and Annie wouldn't stop fussing over it, total bummer."

The woman was an endless chatterbox and Epiphany wasn't able to get a word in. So, instead, she focused on undoing her rollerset and teasing out her curls until she achieved her desired look. As she switched her kitten heels for stilettos the beat of her introductory song started to play and Epiphany sashayed her way onto the stage. The place was packed with men. 

Their lust-filled eyes fueled her ego. The coke-bottle-shaped Latina swayed her hips and arched her back to wiggle her ass to the crowd. With a swift motion Epiphany wrapped her right leg around the pole as she grabbed onto her breasts. She swirled down along the pole as if she were licking along a lollipop. and as the beat of the music sped up her negligee tugged off. The roaring of the crowd and the rain of money arose as she fondled her breasts and rocked her hips against the pole. Her bra dropped the moment the beat did. Epiphany worked her body around the pole like a snake. Slow and sultry. Her plump ass in the air generously jiggled towards the crowd like jelly freshly spread on toast. The hibiscus scent of her hair flowed throughout the air as she flipped her bombshell curls around.

"Jesus, she's pretty vulgar huh?" Beth grimaces to Annie and Ruby.

'Dude she's hot." Annie sighed with dreamy eyes.

When Epiphany flipped her head back and eyed the crowd she was met with dark brown eyes. To put it plainly, The man seated at the back table was devilishly handsome. She could feel his eyes on her. Fuck he was hot. His type of hot stood out in any crowd. A heavy hitter. Epiphany wasn't like most girls growing up who fawned over pop stars and Disney stars. No. She yearned for men like Tony Montana. Her life changed the day she saw Scarface at the tender age of twelve. Men with power, drugs, and the promise of a diamond-studded lifestyle were what fueled her. She yearned to spread her legs like butterfly wings for him.

Curving the corner of her lips, Epiphany sent him a sultry smirk. Swirling around the pole she stood on her right leg as she slowly rose her right in the air. Empathizing the curve of her hips she buckled forward with her hand gliding down her sweaty, glitter-glistening skin. Her gaze locked into his as she slipped her hand into her shimmery lavender g-string. A teasing peak at her waxed kitty kat as she rolled and shook her hips. The way the eagle-neck-tatted gangster bit his lip as he watched her made her pussy wet as she toyed with her strings. She yearned to spread her butterfly wings for him.

Epiphany had blown him a kiss directly before twirling off stage as their eyes met once more. His cocky grin made her heart flutter with glee. "Omg that was fucking awesome girl!" Krystal squealed as soon as Epiphany had gotten into the dressing room. "Can you show me how to do that butt jiggle thingy you do? Looks wild." 

Snickering, Epiphany nodded as she went to retrieve a water bottle from the mini fridge,"Yeah sure". she replied breathlessly before quenching her thirst. The two women exchanged numbers before they'd gone back to occupying themselves. Epiphany freshened up in the bathroom with her feminine products before she had changed into a mini wine-red babydoll dress. 

She reapplied her lip gloss as she made her way outside to the bar. The dancer barely made it to one of the stools before being engulfed into a tight hug by Annie,``Dude that was epic! you gotta show me some of the moves to work on Kevin." The youngest boland sibling took a seat on the bar stools beside Epiphany.

"Ew Annie, not the homeless dude."Epiphany grimaced, "Maybe we can teach him those moves so he can get on the pole and earn some cash."

"You know that'd actually be pretty hot?" Annie agreed with a laugh before she ordered a beer.

Her eyes skimmed around the crowded area until her attention narrowed in on the handsome gangster conversing with Beth. Fires of desire flamed her eyes, matching the fire in between her thighs, "Who's that?" she asked with a soft nudge to Annie's shoulder. Beth's sister followed Epiphany's gaze, her nose slightly scrunching. 

"Oh that's Rio." Annie proceeds to take a sip of her beer, "Or as i say gang friend. Well…my gang  friend. Beth's kinda dating him now,,.unofficially."

"Yeah right." Epiphany snickered before taking a sip from her Corona, "She's way out his league." her chocolate brown eyes ranked his slim frame. He looked so delicious in black. She  wanted to just run her tongue across his neck tattoo.

"Hey. What happened to feminism? dude? Us girls have to stitch together." Annie frowned, "That isn't nice, Beth's a total milf."

Epiphany let out a melodic sinister laugh as she flipped her curls over her shoulder, "Feminism is a fucking joke Annie, No offense to your sister. But no one hates women more than other women. It's like in our DNA to be territorial and competitive." she took another sip of her beer before proceeding,"He's simply too divine for me not to indulge in." sighing dreamily she looked at Rio once more.

Annie kept quiet at first before her eyes widened, "You're gonna seriously get at him?"

"And swallow him whole." Epiphany winked before slipping out of her seat.

Making her way through the crowd she could feel eyes on her as she briefly passed by both RIo and Beth. The sound of the music and chit chatter died down as she walked down the hall that led to the dressing rooms. Her clicky footsteps were masked by heavy footsteps.

"Hey superstar…that was some performance." His voice was smokey despite his arrogantly teasing tone. Deep, aged like fine whiskey. His touch was warm despite his fingers only brushing at her wrist. Which caused her to turn around to face him. The two eyed one another like two lions who'd caught their prey. Under the blue lights the mutual feeling of raw-primal desire made the air grow thick. Hotter. 

"Well I had a captivating audience to motivate me." Epiphany replied as she looked up at him. Breathing in his scent as he got closer; she couldn't but breathe him in. He smelt of a deep and rich musky aroma like cuban tobacco yet also sweet. Like vanilla. A milky vanilla similar to that was soft and comforting. Similar to the scent of coconut milk put through a milk frother

"Oh yeah I bet you did." he let out a rasped chuckle as his eyes flickered from her eyes down to her body. "What's your name?"

"Epiphany."

"Your mama gave you a beautiful name, Epiphany." The way her name rolled off his tongue like smooth butter made her want to come undone.

"Not much else." The light in her eyes dimmed for a split second before she smiled at him, "What's yours? Bet I could guess."

"Be my guest." he nodded.

"Rio." His name sensually purred off her lips.

"I see you've been asking about me then." Rio let out a deeply rumbling laugh as he edged closer to her. Her chest pressed against a few inches above his waist.

"Nah I'm just psychic." Epiphany teased.

The two shared a chuckle before he licked his blush-pink lips. "So, you need a ride?"

"On top of you or in your car?" Her challenging yet teasing banter caused Rio's left brow to rise. And nothing was more alluring than his laughter she was convinced.

"Both."

No other words were uttered nor needed to be said after that. Ephipany allowed herself to be whisked away by him. The pair left the back entrance and got into his Benz truck. A night of their bodies saying everything words weren't good enough to say was in store.

♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪𓆩♡𓆪☆♡𓆪𓆩♡⊹˚.♡

@darqchilddaydreamz @danzer8705

[ryttu3k]

Ta'varin 'Tae' Arkenval | Drow (Surface) | Circle of the Land Druid / Cleric of Eilistraee | They/Them | 94

Questions by @sporeservant , found here! A slightly more lighthearted set of answers for my fluffy pastel custom Tav when compared to my Durge, haha.

Favourite weapon: Phalar Aluve most beloved! They don't actually use it much? Like, they're very much not trained in using a longsword, haha. But they have an emotional attachment to it due to the connection to their Goddess, and so it's a permanent part of their gear.

Style of combat: Distance magic user. They mostly use stuff like Moonbeam, Spike Growth, and Call Lightning, although Sunbeam certainly becomes a late-game fave!

Most prized possession: As mentioned, very attached to Phalar Aluve.

Deepest desire: By the end of the game, it's to find a cure for Karlach. You don't willingly go to the Hells for someone you don't intend on helping to the fullest extend of your ability!

Guilty pleasure: They're most comfortable in the wilderness, but secretly… they really like shopping in the Wide.

Best-kept secret: They actually secretly really like the Underdark. It has this weird sort of beauty to it - glowing mushrooms and trees and all. It sort of feels like an insult to Eilistraee, but it's just… a cool vibe.

Greatest strength: A finely balanced combination of gentleness and forgiveness, and a willingness to murder someone if they deserve it. This may or may not be a strength.

Fatal flaw: A finely balanced combination of gentlene…

Favourite smell: Clean green loamy smells, the smell of the forest after rain. Also, freshly baked bread.

Favourite spell or cantrip: Speak With Animals their beloved. It was the first one they ever used (a scroll as a birthday gift) and is still their most-used.

Pet peeve: People who leave trash and stuff around their campsites. The traveller's chest just kept filling up with random trash they kept finding in the wilds so they could dispose of it later. Pick up your shit, people!!

Bad habit: Like. Eating leaves and flowers and mushrooms. One of the reasons they started learning herblore and the like was to work out what would be safe to randomly stick in their mouth. Their favourite is acorn truffle.

Hidden talent: A pretty dab hand with a grass whistle. PHWEET.

Leisure activity: Honestly they just love hanging out outside and chatting with animals. Catching up on gossip with the birds and all. They also enjoy reading and listening to music, and a bit of drawing (albeit not very well).

Favourite drink: Fruity teas. Technically at this point they're not actually teas, they're like, fruit infusions, but they're nice hot drinks with fruits. Tea!

Comfort food: Pumpkin soup, served with freshly-baked bread dripping with a good-quality olive oil, a good sweet caramelised vinegar, and sprinkled with nuts and spices (I'm thinking EVOO, caramelised balsamic, and dukkah specifically, although I don't think it'd be called that in Faer��n. The wiki does, at least, list sesame seeds, coriander/cilantro, cumin, and mint, and hazelnut oil that implies the existence of, well, hazelnuts, has olive oil, and has vinegars, so the dish itself would certainly be possible!). Shit now I'm hungry.

Favourite person: Karlach <3 Aside from their actual girlfriend, though, they adore and look up to Halsin - he reminds them a great deal of their wood elf grandfather, who, while not a druid, had a love of nature too that he instilled in young Tae.

Favoured display of affection (platonic and/or romantic): Honestly they're almost like an animal themself in the sense that it's just… sitting and existing near a person they like. Not necessarily touching or talking (although they're not opposed to it!), just… chilling in their space.

Fondest childhood memory: Got that Speak With Animals scroll and was never the same again. Spent that entire birthday just wandering the forest and talking to every animal they could find.

[cherrywhipped]

Hunter x Hunter character scent hcs 🌬️

This is kinda for laughs but also I tried to make it reasonable, hope you enjoy♡

XX Gon: maple syrup or a chuck-e-cheese playhouse. no in between

XX Killua: some fresh expensive laundry smell 🙄 (gain fireworks beads), or sweat + campfire/burning smoke⚡️

XX Kurapika: faint pine needles & vanilla (😀??) hard to tell but whatever it is always smells the strongest right below his ear towards the back of his neck kiss

XX Leorio: hot cologne I just KNOW bro smells MMMM (more specifically maybe a mahogany teakwood type of delicious 👏)

XX Kite: my beloved. His smell is so comforting, it’s like wrapping yourself up in a blanket of honeysuckle and dewy grass.

XX Morel: yes obvi smoke but tbh… a hot whiff of that rich & refreshing incense smell that makes your head all cloudy 😵‍💫 [China rain, anyone?]

XX Knov: defeat. Probably wouldn’t have a defining smell, maybe something really light like mint

XX Knuckle: manly, gotta be like sweat and old spice deodorant 🔥

XX Shoot: absolutely nothing. It is bizarre how scentless he is

XX Palm: an unsettling dark berry candle

XX Biscuit: marshmallow fluff

XX Melody: smells like a friend. A friend that smells of citrus fruit.

XX Illumi: I bet he smells intoxicating but it’s eerie, similar to how some people like to sniff gasoline. This is so specific but y’know the heat residue smell when you flat iron your hair or iron clothes? That plus a deep forest musk or red wine note idk it smells good but gives u the creeps

XX Hisoka: I can’t imagine him not smelling like blood or at least somewhat metallic underneath. But he covers it up with some flower bomb type of perfume 💀

XX Chrollo: god he smells sexy. Sandalwood, rose water, maybe some vanilla bean or cinnamon or other deep spice in there? It’s the perfect blend of sexy musk and spicy with a little sweet on top. scent will put u on ur knees

XX Feitan: straight up smells like Hot Topic. musky & musty <3

XX Nobunaga: smells cool tbh, reminiscent of stormy weather, or how hot asphalt smells when it starts pouring rain (I rlly like that smell)

XX Machi: very clean like white tea, lemon, or lavender. You have to be super close to her to actually catch a whiff

XX Uvo: weird. Not good or bad necessarily, just the combo he has going on isn’t working with him like ginger or black pepper and salty ocean body wash

XX Shalnark: kinda basic but at least it isn’t bad, smells like clean linen tbh

XX Paku: a refined, strong scent. Amber or black cherry balsamic vinegar (trust me) something unique and a lil sensual

XX Phinks: icyhot. The icy hot muscle pain reliever stuff. (Peppermint, menthol) and honestly… it smells pretty good

XX Shizuku: grape jelly. That’s it. Idk how she smells like she spilled the whole jar on herself every day but somehow she does.

XX Ging: ……… literally dust. I feel like he smells like whatever the hell he was around that day, (a swamp, animals, fish, the sewer 🗿) never smells the same two days in a row, even his sweat smell doesn’t repeat 😖

XX Pariston: Irish spring soap bc the best liars and manipulators I knew always used that shit LMAO but yeah pariston would smell clean + good as to not offend any nostrils unlike ging

[draytnation]

I'm making ✨Headcanons✨ again this time with

Billy Knight

I am making a fic ATM but it isn't on Ralph, my brain cannot focus on one comfort character. But any ho

💧:He has many scars on his body from many things, s*lf harm, biting himself, scratches or marks from other things

💧: He has lots of night terrors, and sometimes wets the bed from them and frequently does so when the terrors come back.(Which is actually canon too/srs)

💧:He does canonically has Schizoid affective disorder, but doesn't take meds for it because he hasn't been able to seek or get proper help

💧:He has autism, and his main icks to things are shouting, flashing lights, and bad clothing textures

💧:He bites his fingers when his bored or nervous, leaving teeth marks all over them

💧:Has trust issues, and isolates himself a lot but is extremely touch/affection starved

💧:I feel like he's been in a bad relationship or two, since it seems he's constantly surrounded by toxic people his whole life

💧: He's been masking for years, and is rarely able to express himself correctly

💧:He also had an abusive father, and when he has his episodes he constantly remembers him

💧: He's lost hair before from stress, thankfully it regrows back easily but he also rarely takes care of it

💧:Talking about hygiene, his hygiene is horrible. He can go weeks or months on end without cleaning himself, and has rashes because of it, and his skin complexion is not the best

💧:He has fleas, definitely has fleas

💧:He smells like dirty pond water, balsamic vinegar, and fermented BO

💧:He needs a bath badly

💧:Was bullied alot when he was younger, even by his own brother and his friends

💧:His clothes nearly always irritate him, there always so baggy and they make his skin absolutely crawl

💧:His stims through hitting himself, hand flapping, repeating quotes from things he likes, Gnawing on things, humming, and rocking

💧:He tends to go nonverbal alot of the time due to everyday being so overstimulating for him

💧: He has insomnia, and has gone many nights without sleep

💧:He doesn't drink water alot, I mean the man barely even cares for himself so I doubt he would drink water

💧:He doesn't like the texture of soap, the sliminess of it bothers him greatly

💧:His comfort foods are Boston cream donuts and banana pudding, he really likes the foods with sweet creamy textures

💧:He doesn't wash his hands with soap, like this was a joke at first but guys I DONT THINK IT'S A JOKE ANYMORE

💧:He rubs his scalp with his fingers to calm himself down or when he's overstimulated

💧:He special interest is wood carving, He tries his best to carve his animals and figures and what not.

💧:He picks strands of his hairs out sometimes

💧:His favorite movie growing up was Robin hood, he would fantasize about stealing from the rich giving to the poor and having zero worries

💧:The closest thing he's ever had to a mother figure is Jimmy's ex wife, she would occasionally comfort him when he was having an episode, panic attack, or was overstimulate

💧:He basically swaddles himself when he sleeps to feel the touch he desperately yearns for

💧:He always sleeps facing towards the door

💧:His father would get on him for every little mistake, so if he evers breaks something or messes up he starts to profusely apologize with tears even forming in his eyes

💧:He hates the every about broccoli, the texture, smell, and ESPECIALLY taste. He hated having to eat them as a kid and would immediately throw them up after

💧:He has a lot of fears, Doctors, Thalassophobia, Abandonment, The Dark, Social situation, etc

💧:To Destimulate he locks himself in the bathroom and sits either on the floor or in the tub and let's loose

💧:When he's overstimulated he pulls on his hair, and feels like his skin is crawling, and in the show he constantly does a little fidget of some sort where he roughly kinda wipes under his nose idk how to explain it but if you seen the show you know what I'm talking about

💧:He also has scars on his hands because he's accidentally cut himself with the chiseler before

💧: Nearly to never makes eye contact unless the person notices he isn't

💧:Also I know he can do some awesome parkour, in the show man's hopped of a building down to crates like it was nothing

💧:Idk but I have a feeling Jimmy has hit him before, like he still cares about him and all cause y'know brothers, but there's just one occasion where Jimmy's temper is worser than usual and he just snaps. Jimmy dore try his best to apologize after, but nonetheless Billy gets put up with alot.

💧:He finds it soothing when someone runs there fingers through his hair, especially if someone were to put there hand on his cheek, he would absolutely melt in your hands

💧:He will shy away from affection at first, but ya gotta warm up to him first till he finds you safe enough to trust

Well that's definitely enough Hc's for today, I do have a fic cooking up for Billy rn, but imma post that later. if y'all got any requests for Billy send em in, I advise you watch the show he's in cause it's pretty good, idk why my brain keeps hoping from person to person tho. I'm strangely contemplating if I should ever make smut with his character . Cause I love the little man to death

[tastesoftamriel]

Hello, Talviel! First of all, I LOVE your work - thank you for sharing the fruits (ha!) of your labor with avid readers like myself.

Now to the meat of my correspondence: I have recently developed a ravenous appetite for the pickled red onions one often sees garnishing delicacies in both Skyrim and Morrowind. Sweet, sour, salty, and crunchy… delicious!

If you have the time and the will, I would SO appreciate any recipes you might have for delicious pickled foods! I know you are always busy researching and writing splendid new texts, so please don’t let my request weigh too heavily on your shoulders.

With much appreciation,

J. T. of Shornhelm

Dearest J.T.,

I'm about to make a shocking confession: I am impartial to pickles. The very word fills me with dread, as I look back upon a childhood spent gulping down buckets of pickled fish from the Riften fishery. I will, for you, consider picking up the pickling jar once more, but for now I shall leave you with a nice list of various sour, preserved foods from across Tamriel.

Altmer

As I have mentioned many times in the past, the Altmer simply cannot abide by preserved foods. However, there is one exception: pickled ginger. This punchy, crunchy treat is served alongside raw fish, with a ponzu dipping sauce and wasabi root mousse. Delicate, but still guaranteed to deliver some zest.

Argonians

The climate of Black Marsh makes pickling an ideal form of food preservation, and it's used on everything from fruits to snails. I can't say say much about the pickled snails as I managed to avoid this delicacy by coming down with a case of swamp flu, but I can confirm that Argonian pickled palm fruit is delicious. It is often served as part of dessert, but is also had as a side dish, or stuffed into fish and roasted.

Bosmer

Before you can scream about the horrors of pickled meat, I'm going to have to stop you there, as Bosmer pickles aren't always as dreadful as they sound (I'm being diplomatic here. We don't talk about pickled eyeballs). A fermented saltwater shrimp paste that's a common feature in both Bosmeri and Khajiiti cooking is produced in Valenwood, and it smells absolutely rancid. It does, however, taste excellent with a twist of lime and fresh chili paste, so be sure to give it a go if you dare!

Bretons

I don't know why, but Bretons love pickling their walnuts for some perplexing reason, turning perfectly good food into a bizarre party snack. Once pickled, the walnuts achieve a soft, tender texture that isn't half bad until you bite into it. It tastes absolutely nothing like walnuts; it is more akin to a sad, round gherkin. However, they are almost edible on crackers with a good amount of caramelised onion jam.

Dunmer

The Dunmer are quite partial to a good pickle, and make them in every form, for every occasion. Comberry pickles are probably one of the most common food staples in the Dunmer kitchen, which pack a distinct sweet and bitter flavour with a good amount of crunch. They go on almost every food, hot or cold, and some comberry enthusiasts enjoy munching on them straight from the jar too. Think of it as the cocktail onions of Vvardenfell!

Imperials

Cyrodiil has an enormous range of pickles to choose from, but my favourite would be pickled roast paprika. These beauties come in slivers that are perfectly roasted to bring out that sweet, smoky flavour before being pickled with balsamic vinegar for a week. They're an excellent finishing touch to any meat or vegetable dish that looks and tastes vibrant!

Khajiit

Pickled mango is probably my favourite on this list, which is eaten in slices that are sweet, sour, and spicy (some Khajiit also enjoy them with a pinch of salt). It's usually eaten with rice or flatbread, and is sometimes served minced with garlic, shallots, and moon sugar. It's a flavour explosion, so this is definitely one for the more adventurous eaters.

Nords

Aside from our pickled fish, Nords also enjoy a slightly curious snack: pickled honeycomb. It's exactly as it sounds, where fresh honeycomb bursting with honey is pickled in apple cider vinegar when the moons are at their fullest. Once the moons begin to wane, the honeycombs are ready for eating. The sweetness of the honey pops against the tart apple cider vinegar, infusing the wax with a curious flavour that makes it excellent to chew on.

Orcs

The stereotype of radish-loving Orcs absolutely extends to pickles, and by the Nine, there are many of them. Variants beyond the simple pickled radish slices that adorn every slice of bread, meat, and more radishes. For example, a spicy fermented root vegetable pickle is made in clay or glass jars, heavily featuring radishes, carrots, cabbage, and several handfuls of fresh chili. The end product is a fiery, crunchy starter dish that is also fried into pancakes or rice.

Redguards

The Redguards absolutely love their pickled Alik'r cactus, which packs a peculiar sweet and sour flavour. The cactus either comes in slices or as a mince, and is used especially with sweet and spicy dishes like curries and tagines. It's said that a spoonful is also good for indigestion, but I prefer yoghurt myself.

[goodatyugioh]

The tag on your last reblog got me curious so now I'm gonna give you a chance, how does vinegar affect pickling and what kind of vinegars are there for pickling?

(i love pickled stuff so i might learn something new here)

KICKS DOWN THE FUCKING DOOR

ok so. you have white distalled vinegar, fruit cider vinegar (typically apple), malt vinegar, and the wine vinegars (rice, red, white, champagne). those are the ones i know anyway. there's also balsamic but that's so expensive and intense i can't imagine pickling with it. the vinegars all pickle items the same, roughly speaking; my rice wine is only 4.2% acidity (my others are 5% acidity, which is about what you want) so it's less acidic than my other ones but there's not a meaningful difference in pickling.

but what the vinegars do is affect the flavor. and they're a big influence on the taste of the pickles, arguably more than any seasoning. here i documented a basic flavor profile for the vinegars i have at home, to give you an idea of how the flavor of each vinegar would affect the pickled item. most pickled things use white distalled vinegar; it has a good tang but not a strong flavor, which showcases the flavor of the pickled item and any seasonings. it's also very cheap and easy to get in bulk. but if you're dealing with strong vinegars like white wine, their flavor is so intense it can overwhelm the pickled item itself, especially if not diluted.

which brings me to dilution. when i make pickles, i do a 1:1 water:vinegar ratio. some people go all vinegar, and some people go only water. for me, the 1:1 ratio gives a strong vinegar flavor while having the water dilute it enough that the vinegar flavor doesn't swallow everything. 1 cup rice wine might not be bad on its own but a full cup of white wine? that would be terrible. as an aside i don't like white wine that much because it's really if you don't have the exact right amount it's impossible to taste anything but that. ruined some otherwise delicious apples but that's just me. so anyway if you do want to use stronger vinegars, it's better to do it with other milder vinegars. those vinegars will cut the intensity of the stronger vinegar while bringing their own unique flavor, like if you used red wine vinegar with its fruity tang then cut it with rice wine's dry sweetness. with this being said, malt vinegar is often used on its own in things like english pickled onions. i've never had nor used malt vinegar before so i can't account for taste or usage.

so there you go. tl;dr: vinegar affects pickles by taste primarily and you can use those tastes in different ways.

[fific7]

Dangerous and Divine - Part 10

Billy Russo x Reader

Summary: Billy Russo is an itch you don’t want to scratch. But he’s all over you like a rash.

A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s mainly fluff & lemon zest 🍋 In case you hadn’t guessed, this is my ‘Real Love for Russo’ AU. The GIF is from Exposed, unreleased pilot show in case you’re wondering 😌... Billy vibes.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content including oral and unprotected* sex between consenting adults. A little voyeurism. Some drinking & swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My GIF)

His eyes looked huge as he gazed at you, “I, uh... think I’ve fallen in love with you.” He stroked your cheek, “And it scares the shit out of me.”

You realised you must look like a fish, your mouth had dropped open in a big O. No sound came out of it though, as your brain had frozen solid when you’d heard Billy’s words.

He looked at you, worried frown on his face, “I know! I know what you’re gonna say. It’s too fast. I think it’s too fast too! - but I can’t help how I feel. It’s like I’ve run into a wall or something. Can’t stop thinkin’ about you. Wanna be with you all the time. Wanna make love to you all the time.”

You scratched the bristly hairs under his chin, running your fingers through them and into those on his neck. Still trying to think of what to say.

“Uh, I...” you stuttered, thinking ‘good start, “...Billy, I really like you. I’m enjoying being with you, and I’ve definitely got feelings for you. Already. And it scares the living shit out of me too. Not sure exactly what they are just yet,” you smiled at him, and were relieved to see him smile back. “But, yeah, I think I’ll hang around so I can find out. If that’s OK with you.”

He was still smiling, and leaned over to kiss you softly. “That’s more than OK with me. We can both be scared together.” Your arms went round his neck, your lips dotting little kisses onto his eyes, his nose, his cheeks, his lips. “Yeah - let’s do that.” His eyes were still closed and a happy little smile had appeared on his face.

Oh, and Billy?” Dark eyes opened slowly and looked at you, “You know how we didn’t use a condom?” A tiny little frown on his brow, “Yeah?” “There won’t be any mini-Russo’s running around, don’t worry. I’m on birth control.” He chuckled, “Okay, I suppose that’s good to know. Wouldn’t have been a problem if it did happen, though.” You burst out laughing, “Really? Not a problem for you, so you say, but have you thought about how it might’ve been a problem for me?”

He sat up a bit, “Well... no I guess I didn’t. Would it be that much of bad thing?” You lay down and stared up at the ceiling. After a moment or two of silence, you hummed and said, “Well, having kids is not in my immediate life plan, but I’m not ruling it out.” Billy perched his chin on your shoulder, and you turned your head to meet those deep dark eyes again. He grinned, “Okay, I hear you. Guess it’s not in my plans right now either. But I have to say, we’d make beautiful babies.”

You smiled, “Maybe... but you still aren’t getting me pregnant and locking me in the kitchen!”

Billy had just laughed, giving you more of the puppydog eyes.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

After Billy had finally enjoyed a very pleasurable joint shower the next morning - he’d been fantasising about that ever since that time she’d locked him out of her bathroom - he’d dropped her at the Chelsea café before heading out to Anvil. He had a huge smile on his face as he thought back to the two of you playing around under the warm water of her rainfall shower, having immense fun and indulging each other with erotic pleasures.

But then his smile faded a little bit. His mind had moved on and was now playing over their conversation from the previous evening. Should he have told her how he felt? Not that he’d meant to, to be honest, but his sex-drowsy brain and loved-up mindset had let his mouth just blurt it out. It wasn’t like he was lying or anything, he’d just not planned for it to happen that way or at that particular time. She hadn’t said she was in love with him, but he was very pleased that she’d actually admitted she had feelings for him, which was good enough for him for the time being.

He was making his second cup of coffee by the time Frank arrived, so made him one too. The two buddies lounged back in their chairs, sipping at their caffeine hits, and Billy started catching Frank up with the dramas of the previous day, who listened with an increasingly amazed look on his face.

When Billy got to the bit about Madani’s visit to Anvil and what she’d done as soon as she arrived, Frank swore out loud and said angrily that he shouldn’t leave it like that, he should report her. Billy sighed, “Now’s not the time, Frankie. My girl’s got the right idea, she wants to wait till the case is done and then we’ll see. Madani’s crazy mad enough right now without us stirrin’ up more trouble for her.”

Frank grumbled, “Even more unhappy havin’ to work with her now. She’s a loose cannon.”

Billy shrugged, “You know we don’t have a choice, Frankie. And it was my dumb idea to lead her on in the first place.” He looked over at him, “This hotel meet tomorrow should bring this whole fuckin’ thing to a close.”

Their case was coming to a head. There had been shady goings-on back in Afghanistan when the two friends had been in the Marines, involving black ops and drug-smuggling which had led to Madani’s then-partner getting killed, and Billy getting his Anvil funding from CIA bad guy Rawlins. He was dead now too. And Madani was determined to get his remaining accomplices, one way or another. Homeland was using an undercover agent to lure them into a trap with the promise of selling them video and phone tap evidence, and Homeland had agreed to work jointly with Anvil on it.

Frank and Billy had insider knowledge which was crucial to keeping the undercover agent safe from discovery. They were originally arrested after the gun battle which ended Rawlins’ life because Anvil had muscled in on the confrontation between him and Homeland, and Frank had killed Rawlins in the course of it. Once the remaining two accomplices were under arrest - tomorrow hopefully - Homeland had promised Billy and Frank that all pending charges against them would be dropped.

Frank frowned, looking like a huge irate teddy bear, “It better,” he said darkly.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You were immersed in paperwork, but your mind kept wandering. It was a busy little bee. All the stuff that had happened yesterday... it was a lot to take in. Madani’s two visits to you, her full-on assault of Billy, and then... Billy and what he’d said. Yeah, those three little words.

You could tell by his eyes when he’d said it that he’d surprised himself. At least he was as scared as you were. Did you love him? Really not sure. You definitely had feelings for him, that was for damn sure. When Madani had told you she was seeing Billy, you could have cheerfully murdered her. And again, when Billy told you what she’d done to him.

He’d told you this morning that in all honesty, if you hadn’t been in his life, his prior persona would have just let her carry on with it. You’d appreciated that he was being completely truthful with you, about that and also about stopping her in her tracks. He’d actually seemed quite shocked about how she’d behaved. And really not looking forward to seeing her again.

But he’d also told you that the case should be coming to a close tomorrow, and he couldn’t wait for it to be done and dusted. He also said he had a surprise for you which he’d tell you about tonight.

A smile crept onto your lips as you thought about seeing him that night. He was going to pick you up at your place and then head over to his, as he was cooking you dinner this time.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy was flitting around his kitchen area, tea towel over his shoulder, wooden spoon in hand, picking up and moving pots and pans around his cooker, and basically just being a domestic god.

You were sipping wine, sitting at his kitchen table and watching this vision unfold in front of you, as you’d been told that you weren’t allowed to help. He looked edible, never mind the food - which smelt delicious. Billy was making pasta with meatballs in a tomato sauce, joking that it wasn’t quite as fancy as the lunch you’d made for him. And he’d also sliced fresh crusty bread with some olive oil and balsamic vinegar alongside for dipping.

“How’d it go with Mizzzz Madani today?” you asked, drawing out the “Ms” mockingly, dying to know what had happened. You could hear his sigh from where you were sitting. He looked over his shoulder at you, running a hand through his hair and frowning as he did, “Uhhhh... how can I put it? Really. Fuckin’. Awkward.”

He turned back to the food steaming away on the cooker top, continuing, “She just literally glared at me for the whole briefing. Like if she’d had knives with her, they’d all be stuck in me right now. Didn’t speak a word to me the whole time.”

“You know, Billy - that really fuckin’ annoys me! She’s the one who created the whole situation.”

Again a sigh, “Well, like I said to Frankie before the meeting, it was my dumb ass that thought leadin’ her on was a good way of getting her to keep us in the loop.”

“Yeah, you’re right but listen, she escalated this beyond reason when she stalked me and jumped you! You know what, Billy, once this is done and you and Frank are free and clear, I’m going after her ass.”

Billy started dishing up, chuckling as he did so, “That’s my girl!” “Billy, I reckon she thought I’d crumble when she marched into my café with her power dressing and big shiny badge. She picked the wrong person to piss off!” Strolling across to the table, Billy put the two plates of food down along with the cutlery, leant in and kissed you long and slow. “Mmmm,” he grinned, “yeah, she really did!”

His eyes softened, and he whispered, “I love you.” “Oh Billy,” you whispered back, and kissed him. Then you drew back, looking down at your dinner, “This looks and smells amazing!” “Stop changing the subject,” he grinned, sitting down and starting to eat. “Now that I told you, I’m just gonna keep saying it to you, and one time you might say it back to me!” You stroked his jaw, dragging your fingers through his beard, “You big sap.” He nodded, “Uhuh.”

“Now, tomorrow...” he continued, “...we’re finishing this thing. Can’t tell you details, but we’re gonna be based in one of the big hotels downtown. I’ve booked a room. Can you bunk off work to spend some time with your boyfriend? Sexy times in a fancy hotel room before he goes on his mission... and afterwards?”

You smirked, “Might do. If he makes it worth my while.” Bigger smirk from him, “He will, you can bank on it.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy had dropped you home after dinner; he had to head back to Anvil as he, Frank and their team needed to get prepped for the next day. You felt quite giddy when you realised he’d taken time out just to make you dinner. Maybe you did love this guy!

You texted Jake & Jen to say you’d decided to take the next day off, but they could of course get in touch with you if need be.

Jake: No problem, have a great day off 😌

Jen: Lucky you!!!! 😉🥵

You laughed at Jen’s reply, cheeky woman! She’d guessed exactly what you’d be up to on your day off.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Packing an overnight bag after you’d showered and dressed very early the next morning, you made sure to include some pretty lingerie. Billy was in for a treat.

Speak of the devil. Your phone chimed with a new text.

Your Boyfriend: I’m outside your place, my angel 😘

You: Do you have to be on time, all the time? 🙄😌

Your Boyfriend: Ex-Marine, darling 🥷😉😘

You: OK big boy, I’ll be down in 5 😘

Your Boyfriend: 🍒🍆😈

Twenty minutes later, you were driven into the hotel’s underground carpark in Billy’s SUV (no Wraith today!) and he asked you to wait in the car until he came back for you. Once he returned with the keycard, he took you up to the lifts via the fire exit stairs, so you wouldn’t have to walk through the lobby. Very cloak and dagger, you thought.

The hotel room was very fancy indeed, all boutique hotel chic. You’d just put your large tote bag down beside the bed, when two arms grabbed you, spun you round and threw you onto the bed. Billy nuzzled into your neck, making low growling sounds. His hands got busy unfastening your shirt, so you started on his, both of you kissing each other’s skin wherever you could reach it.

Billy groaned, “Angel... sorry, this is gonna have to be a really quick thing, m’nearly due to get kitted up for this fuckin’ op.” “That’s okay,” you gasped, “just get your clothes off, Russo.” He grinned, sitting up on his knees and stripping off his shirt, followed by his boots, jeans and CK boxer briefs. You were just lying there, eyes drinking in that fine body of his, until he took hold of his erection and gave himself a few strokes, stiffening even more. That snapped you out of your trance, and you sat up and stripped off your clothes quick as a flash.

You and Billy then kind of leapt on each other at the same time, and you found yourself tumbling backwards again onto the huge bed with Billy on top of you. He slid two fingers gently inside you before finding your clit and rubbing at it hard with his thumb. He was kissing your neck and then your breasts, licking your nipples roughly, making you give little squeals.

His fingers left you, and you felt him move his hard cock between your legs with his hand. He pushed inside with one big thrust and you gave a big, deep sigh at how good he felt inside you. Hearing Billy sigh out your name as he buried himself in you, you thought you also heard a click. Billy was kissing you hungrily and had started thrusting into you at a pretty fast pace. All thoughts of anything else went out of your head.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Dinah Madani had calmed down quite a lot over the last 24 hours.

She’d drunk herself into oblivion when she’d got home after leaving Anvil, and had to sit through that excruciating briefing with Russo and Castle the next day nursing a raging hangover. Did she regret what she’d done? Any of it? No, she didn’t.

To put it mildly, she wanted Billy Russo, and had thought she was going to get him. While she knew that she’d lost her head over him, that she’d looked so desperate when she’d jumped him in his office, she really didn’t give a shit. Madani had decided to take a shot at getting him back, and she’d taken it.

It hadn’t worked. That had really surprised as well as humiliated her. What did that bitch have that she didn’t? Anyhow, yeah - he’d kicked her to the curb, so she was just going to have to take it on the chin and move on. Not that she was happy about it, and easier said than done.

She’d decided to hunt Russo down in his room and go over some last-minute details with him. And if she was honest, maybe see if being in a hotel bedroom with him changed the dynamic any. The hotel manager had given her a master keycard as she was Agent-in-Charge of this undercover op. She was going to go in unannounced she decided, well she was the boss on this op after all. Maybe Russo would be in the shower, she mused to herself, with a pleasurable thrill.

As she opened the door and walked in, about to call out his name, what she saw did not please her in the slightest. Billy Russo’s naked tight ass thrusting up and down, him sighing and groaning out loud, lying in between a pair of legs, and she could just guess who they belonged to.

Wanting to turn round and get the hell out of there, Madani found herself rooted to the spot. It was like car crash TV... she just couldn’t bring herself to look away. So, she stood there and just watched.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@blackbirddaredevil23 @galaxyjane @omgrachwrites

[megthemewlingquim]

  ❛   i want you. and the thought of anyone else having you is like a knife twist in my dark soul.   ❜   Bucky gets jealous of someone (Sam maybe) but he doesn't think he deserves the reader bc of his past? Followed by some very sweet smut?

Sugar, Sweetheart, Angel

Summary: Bucky can't help himself when it comes to you — especially when Sam's away with a girl.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: sweet... but not too explicit smut, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, corny poetry about jealousy, Bucky being shy but very, very loving

A/N: Hi, loves! Happy Kinktober. This is my DAY ONE entry. I promise, I will get into more explicit smut as the month goes on.

“Nah, go on, man. Have your fun.”

Mistake Number One.

He feels the regret immediately after the words slip out of his mouth, and it only worsens when he sees Sam go off with a girl — a dame — beside him. She’s beautiful, with chocolate skin and velvet eyes and long, braided hair.

But, in his lonesome state, he turns and sees you.

Dancing to the unrecognizable tune that’s pulsing through everyone at the club, lit up by neon purple, green and blue lights and a smile that literally glows in the dark.

Mistake Number Two. 

Because his eyes don’t leave your figure and his mouth doesn’t open and — of course — his pants have gotten much, much tighter. 

Hope rises within him, but it quickly fades.

You’ve been on Bucky’s mind for ages.

You started out as Sam’s friend, his partner in superhero work. No, you couldn’t fly or move things with your mind or control lightning and thunder, but you could hack into computers and software, and you could actually use a knife well. You met both Sam and Bucky after the war for the world, after he and Sam were dusted and you lost your boyfriend for five years. And of course, with no contact for that long, even if it’s not intentional, a relationship can crack and dissolve.

So you were a hardened, tough wreck, but one that was starting to pick up pieces and put yourself back together. You were starting to learn to love again, and to fight for what you loved and who you loved... which, when you started working with Sam, was only your family.

Bucky was completely awestruck when he saw you for the first time. He was reminded of all of the pretty dames from the 40′s, the ones with shorter hair and cherry red lipstick. You brought him back to his sergeant years....

And when you make eye contact with him for one, split second moment, even before his sergeant years.

And there he is.

The boy who grew up with very overprotective parents. The boy who was scared of growing up, the boy who was so shy around the fifth grade girls. And the sixth grade girls. And so on.

Bucky is transported back to those years, and all he can do is look at you.

You’re free, it seems. You’re liberated, you’re unhinged, as you dance and sway to the tune... which now seems to be a slower, more psychedelic song. (Sam taught him that word. Enter Pink Floyd.) Your arms lift and you look up, absolutely content and so in love with the music and the lights and...

Well, not with him. That’s for sure.

He sighs, going over to sit at a vacant table. It smells of beer, the aftermath of an arm wrestle from whoever sat there last. Lifting a hand up to scratch his stubble, he finally tears his eyes away from you; he does not want to seem creepy.

Mistake Number Three.

Because he does not see you come up to him, sit down on an empty chair beside him.

“See something you like, James?”

He shudders at the use of the name. Not that it’s a bad shudder — it’s just... it sounds lovely coming from your lips.

You must take it as a bad sign, because you look down at your shoes. “Sorry,” you mumble. “Sorry, Buck.”

His voice lifts a little. “No, sweetheart, it’s okay.” The term of endearment goes unnoticed by you. He’s used it with you so often, and even the first time you were numb to it. It fell on deaf ears, as it does now. “It’s okay. You can call me that... if you want to.”

He pauses. “I... I did see something I liked, by the way.”

“Oh, yeah?” Now it’s your voice that lifts. “And what was that?”

Either you’re really, really ignorant, or you’re doing it to be a tease and to piss him off. Bucky can’t tell.

“You.”

He says it bluntly. No hiding, no blushing, no nothing. Because he knows that you won’t think anything of it.

Not that you don’t like him back. You absolutely do. It’s just that you’ve been so hardened, so toughened, so numb to the fact that anyone might love you back, and Bucky knows it.

“Hm,” you mumble, “thank you.” It’s as sincere as you can make it sound, which isn’t very.

There’s an uncomfortable pause, one in which you’re both thinking the same thing.

“I want you,” he says, “and the thought of anyone else having you is like a knife twist in my dark soul.”

Every word from Bucky falls from his lips like weights. They drop, then they sit where they land. One lands on your shoe, the others land on the floor. He’s keeping eye contact with you, his gaze intense and... regretful? Introspective? Sincere? Sad?

You blink. And then you laugh.

Not at him, he quickly realizes.

“That’s some Billie Eilish type shit,” you giggle, “but that’s okay. I like her music... but hearing you say it is somehow much more corny.” You break off into more snickers. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You do mean the apology.

He’s a little hurt, but he expected it. He accepts the apology wordlessly.

“I’m serious,” he says, and then you shut the hell up. “Completely serious.” He lifts his hand up and points his index finger at you. “You’re the one I want. Not Sam’s dame, not a girl I kissed in a hallway after knowing her for a month seventy years ago and never saw again.”

It’s a little insult to Steve, you remember. But then you remember what Steve actually did, and how he did it, and exactly who he left behind.

So this means something.

“I like you. I want you. And I love you, whether you know it or not.” He stops, leans in close so his lips are less than a centimeter from your ear, whispers the next part: “Whether you’ll accept it or not.”

His breath is hot on your neck, and he takes a warm hand in yours. It’s his flesh hand. Your heart is racing, and you note that Bucky can probably hear it. 

“Buck -” you stammer, “I — I don’t —”

“You don’t have to say yes, sugar,” he says nonchalantly, but with that sincere tone still lingering. “But you have to realize that some people actually do like you. Want you. Love you.”

He pulls back, his face so close to yours it’s almost claustrophobic for you. The tension in the room is overwhelming, and the air is stuffy and hot and you don’t know how to react to any of this.

“I do,” he continues, “even if that son of a bitch didn’t. You’d think that after five years of not seeing you, he’d come rushing back with flowers and chocolates and a weddin’ ring. You’d think that distance would make a relationship stronger, if it’s the right one.”

“He was dead,” you croak.

“So you thought. And what did he do? He left...Tell ya what, sweetheart,” he says, his tone lightening once again. “Why don’t you let me show you how I feel instead of telling you?”

His hand travels up your thigh and stays there.

“I’ve loved you for so long,” he whispers, “and you don’t know how long it’s taken me to actually say it. Because now you’re listening. Now you’re learning. Now, hopefully, you’ll begin to accept it.” He looks down, down at your lips, then back up to your eyes.

Then, suddenly, unexpectedly, he looks nervous. He stammers out the beginnings of words, never meeting your eyes. "Er — I don't — I don't deserve you. I really don't. You're an absolute angel compared to me. I've — I've killed people, I've done things that you'd recoil at.... I just hope that you come to realize that I love you. I adore you. And if something happened to you, I'd never forgive myself."

It takes a moment for you to collect your thoughts.

You shove them all aside and kiss him.

It’s gentle, and it’s warm and welcoming and it’s Bucky. He lightly takes a hold of your cheek and pulls you further in. The hand that was once on your thigh is now in your hair, at the very back of your head. His lips are soft, which is strange, because you know he used to bite and pick at them, especially when he was nervous... which was often.

You feel like you’re going to topple off of your chair, but if that happens, you won’t mind, because you have Bucky there to catch you.

“C’mon, let’s get out of here,” he says after pulling back, nudging his head at the exit. “My place.”

All you can do is nod your head.

He cooks you dinner, the gentleman. It’s unexpected... you thought you’d just be a fling for tonight.

It’s chicken caprese - seasoned chicken breast with basil, mozzarella cheese, tomatoes and balsamic vinegar. A classic Italian dish, and a classic date night dish.

If you want to call this a date.

After you’re both done, he does the dishes. You both agree to brush your teeth and rinse with mouthwash.

He’s on you directly afterward, latching his lips onto yours in a frenzy. You ground yourself by gripping onto the bathroom counter with white knuckles. He towers over you now, leaning over you and surrounding you with his seemingly much larger form. You’re a small thing.

“Bed — ” he gasps. “Bed, now, please.”

He picks you up, hands on your ass, and you have no choice to wrap your legs around him and hold on. Somehow, you make your way into a bedroom.

He lays you down as if you could break if handled less carefully, and lays down beside you for a minute, doing nothing but taking in the sight of you all breathless and blushing.

He's never seen you blush before. It's a very pretty sight.

"You know," he says, "I haven't done this in forever: properly made love to a woman. But I want to do it right. I want to make you feel loved, sweetheart."

Loved. Not "good". Loved.

"Bucky, there's really no need." There you go again, denying it. It infuriates him and saddens him, but he only sighs.

"How bout this. How bout you... for an hour or so.. just forget about that sonofabitch that left you. Forget about the denial he gave you. And, just for an hour or two, maybe just try to accept the absolute fact that I want to treat you better than he did. Just because he left doesn't mean that I will."

You don't say anything.

"Do you trust me?" he asks rhetorically. "See, you really shouldn't, but you do. I often think, 'How the hell could anyone trust me?' but I accept that fact because you just do.

"That's how I feel with you. You don't think that people should be able to love you, but they do. I do. And I want to show you that.”

“You did make me dinner,” you say with a light smile, your stone exterior cracking a little.

He nods. “That’s one of the million things I’d do for you.” There’s a split second pause that does not prepare you for what he says next. 

“I’d marry you,” he says. Only then does he kiss you, when you’re too stunned to move. You kiss him back, your grip on him heavy this time. He notices, and he smiles.

Clothes are quickly discarded and hot, fast breaths are all you hear for a while. Bucky latches his lips onto your own lips, your neck, your jaw, wherever they can reach, and his hands do the same. 

But when you’re both naked, taking in the sight of each other, your breathing slows, and you both stop, let time pass before anything continues. He breathes out a question, one of consent, and you say yes.

Soft whispers and touches are what your senses take in. Bucky takes note of your every gasp, every whimper and every moan that you make, and remembers what to do to make you do it again.

For example, you like your left breast fondled more than your right. Your neck is a sensitive spot, especially right below your right earlobe. You really like it when he kisses your palms and your inner wrists. You do not like the idea of cunnilingus, unfortunately for Bucky, though you’ve never actually done it.

“Next time maybe we could try it,” he says.  Next time.

You notice, in a random moment, that he does everything with his flesh hand.

His fingers find your intimate parts, and explore there slowly, spreading your wetness all around and rubbing at your clit in slow circles. You don’t moan until the very end, where you’re almost ready to come. His eyes never leave yours, even when yours leave his in a rush of sudden bliss and a shuddered breath.

“Look at me,” he whispers. “I want to see you. I want to see you come.”

You gasp at that, throwing your head forward and looking at him with a look that can only be described as desperation.

“Come for me,” is all he says, a low whisper laced with lust. You clench around his fingers as you come, whining and gasping, and he touches your forehead with his as you’re lost in that wonderful feeling of ecstasy. He mumbles something under his breath, and your brain registers it a millisecond later:

“’Atta girl.”

At that, another rush of pleasure jolts through you and you shudder and twitch, your body becoming oversensitive. 

He doesn’t let you go down on him. Today, he says, is all about you, and you deserve all the loving he can give you today.

Which means he buries himself inside of you quite quickly, holding onto you with an iron grip. You’re on top of him, looking down at his sweaty, awestruck smile.

This is Bucky’s way of making love with you today: very deep, passionate strokes set to a faster rhythm than you thought he would go, but you don’t mind. In fact, you’re moaning almost as soon as you feel the first thrust, and your hair hangs a little in his face as you let your head fall closer to his. He wraps his arms around your torso, bringing you closer to him. So, his thrusts are more shallow but you can get all close with him.

You moan and sob, the wonderful feeling of warmth in your gut never leaving once but only growing. Bucky himself grunts as he thrusts, emitting a breathy chuckle once in a while when he notices how hard you’re gripping onto him.

There are no words here, only sounds and gestures. Enough words have been said.

Once you’re both satisfied and his seed starts to dry on your breasts, all you do is look at each other.

Two souls, two people, two broken hearts that have begun to mend.

[flowerfan2]

Love Is The Seventh Wave

McDanno, A03, 2400 words

Written for the H50 Writers Club Discord “Danny Deserves Better” challenge

“Are you serious?”  she says, and all eyes in the writer’s room turn towards her. “That’s just cruel.  And it makes no sense.”

 “It’s dramatic, Lola.”

 “Lilla,” she corrects, surprised that the douchebag even came close, given that he hasn’t spoken more than those three words to her since she started working for him a month ago. “Just hear me out.  What if instead of having totally out of character bathroom sex with Joanna....”

 *****

 Danny’s sipping idly at his drink when he notices the woman sitting nearby.  She’s pretty, her dark hair a contrast to her light silky blouse, and she’s about as out of place at this bar at ten o’clock in the morning as Danny is.

 She looks up at him, and Danny cracks a smile.  “You looking at me?”

 The woman shakes her head.  “The television’s behind you.  And I desperately need a distraction.”

 Same here, Danny thinks.  “Well, if you’d rather have a live distraction than whatever’s on the news, I’m happy to oblige.”

 The woman smiles and moves over to the seat next to him, bringing her coffee with her.  “At this point I’m willing to try anything.”

 “Buy you a drink?  Wine, beer, scotch on the rocks?”

 “Nah, I’m good.  Not quite desperate enough to drink the hard stuff before noon.”  She glances at Danny’s glass.

 “Club soda,” he admits, and she grins.

 “We’re practically twins.”  She sticks out her hand.  “I’m Joanna.”

 “Danny.”  Her hand is soft, but her grip is firm and doesn’t linger.  “It’s nice to meet you.  So, what do you want to talk about?”

 “Oh, anything but my love life.”

 A laugh bursts out of Danny. “Get right to the point, do you?”

 “No sense wasting time.  For all I know, you’re a reporter doing a story on bars that open before noon and you’ll have to dash off to the next one any minute now.”

 “No chance.  I’m a detective, actually.  But I’m taking a personal day.”

 She gives him an appraising look. “A cop?  But you seem so nice.”

 “Ha, ha, ha.  Very funny.”

 “So,” Joanna says, “why a personal day?”

 Danny takes a moment wondering how to answer this – he’s not really sure himself – when his phone rings. It’s Steve, of course, and the fact that hearing his voice makes his whole body light up just adds fuel to the giant dumpster fire that is his life.  He hangs up after a few minutes and turns back to Joanna.

 “Who was that?”

 “My partner.”

 Joanna looks at him appraisingly, and then nods.  “Yeah, I’ve got one of those.”

 “You’re a cop too?”

 She snorts.  “Um, no, that’s not what I meant.  I’m a lawyer, actually.”

 Danny’s confused.  “So you have, what, law partners?”

 Joanna takes a packet of sugar and adds it to the fresh coffee the bartender has set down in front of her. “You’re a little oblivious, aren’t you?”

 It’s said with such amusement that Danny isn’t mad, and he’s happy to play along.  “Oblivious about what?”

 Joanna sighs and takes a careful sip of her drink, then stirs it some more.  “You’re telling me that guy you just spoke to is your work partner?”

 “Yes, who else would he be?” Danny has his own answer for this, but it’s a fantasy he hasn’t entertained in, oh, at least an hour or so.

 Joanna shrugs noncommittally.

 They slip into a more or less comfortable silence, and Danny contemplates his club soda.  It’s just as boring as it was when he started it. He’s not even sure why he’s here, at a random bar on the north shore.  When he woke up this morning, knowing he had a day free to do anything he wanted, a day off from work and all of its headaches, the first thing he thought of was checking the weather report to see what the waves would be like – because surfing with Steve is one of his favorite things to do to de-stress.  But then he realized that Steve didn’t have the day off too, and it all seemed pointless.

 A day without obligations is hard to come by for a single working dad, and Danny knows in theory he should be enjoying it.  But he’s not.

 “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push.”

 Danny is drawn out of his thoughts by Joanna’s comment.  “No, you’re fine, it’s not you.”

 Joanna leans back a little and runs a hand through her hair.  “Want to know what I’m doing here?”

 Danny takes in her flattering outfit, her carefully done make-up.  “Waiting for a client meeting?”

 She laughs.  “Nope.  One with my partner.”

 “Your law partner,” Danny clarifies.

 Joanna laughs again.  “Yes.  Except that’s the problem.”

 “What’s the problem?”

 Joanna takes a deep breath.  “The truth is, I’d like it if my law partner were a little more than that.”

 Danny feels a rush of shame, and looks quickly around the bar – still empty, except for the bartender.  “Is this some kind of joke?”

 She reaches out and puts a hand on his arm.  “Relax. I’m really not pulling your chain. I’m telling the god’s honest truth.” She takes her hand back and swipes at her phone.  “Here, see? We go out for drinks every Thursday night, everyone in the office.  Thirsty Thursday kind of thing.  Last night went on a little longer than usual, since we just got some really good news on a case.”

 Joanna shows him a photograph of a tall, blond woman with her arm around Joanna, both of them in business suits and holding glasses of champagne.  Several other people are crowded around them.  All of them are making happy faces at the camera, except for Joanna, who has eyes only for the woman at her side.  

 “Oh,” says Danny.

 “Yeah,” says Joanna.  “And I’m pretty sure Jasper – he took the picture – sent it and about twenty other equally embarrassing ones to everyone who was there, including my partner.”

 “Is that good or bad?”  Danny asks.

 “I’m not sure.  But I’m going to find out.”

 “What do you mean?”

 Joanna taps her fingers on the bar, clearly a little nervous.  “Okay, you’re probably going to thing I’m nuts.  I went for my usual run this morning, through my neighborhood and down to the beach.  It’s the same route I’ve run hundreds of times, and there isn’t much beach there, just some scrubby trees by the water’s edge, but you know any bit of beach is beautiful here, so it’s all good.  And this morning, for the first time ever, I saw a honu on that little beach.

 “A turtle?”

 “Yeah.  I’ve never seen one there before, but today there was a honu right there, a really big one.”

 “Okay…”

 “Honu are a symbol of good luck, right? I’ve realized that if I don’t say something to my partner soon, I’m going to lose my mind, or have to quit my job, or both – and once I saw that honu, I knew I could tell her how I feel. I’m going to do it today.”

 “Wow,” Danny said, feeling buoyed by Joanna’s excitement.  “You really are?”

 “I really am.”  Joanna stands up from her chair and straightens her skirt. “I finally realized it’s too important to keep hiding from.  The way I feel about her… I think I love her, you know?  And I can’t believe I’m telling you all this, maybe it’s easier because I don’t know you…”

 “No, I get it,” Danny says, and he does.  Sitting in this random, sunny bar, with a woman he’s never met before, with no preconceived assumptions, no rules or requirements, Danny suddenly feels like he’s opening up, too.  

 “I just don’t want to let a chance for love pass me by, not any more,” Joanna continues.  “Not if we could really be something, and I think maybe we can. So I asked her to meet me at one of our favorite restaurants for lunch, in Haleiwa.  Away from the office, somewhere private… and I better go, I don’t want to be late.”

 “Of course not,” Danny says, standing too.

 Joanna regards him for a long moment, and Danny squirms a little.  “I think today is your lucky day, too,” Joanna says.

 “Why’s that?”

 “Because you met me,” Joanna says, grinning as she leaves.  Danny thinks she’s right.

 ****

Joanna’s excitement is infectious, and Danny feels himself standing a little straighter as he leaves the bar. Maybe her plan would work for him, too. He hasn’t wanted to say anything to Steve for all the obvious reasons – he doesn’t know if Steve feels the same way despite how close they are, he’s never heard Steve express any interest in men at all, and he doesn’t want to ruin their friendship.  But this constant pining is wearing away at him, and he isn’t getting any younger.  What if he waits another ten years and then it turns out Steve was up for something more after all – what a waste that would be.  Or what if he doesn’t have ten years to make up his mind – what if Steve’s conversation with Eddie’s veterinarian this morning turns into asking her out for a date, and they hit it off and live happily ever after?

 There are millions of ways that Danny can miss his chance with Steve, and only one way to find out if he’s still got one.

 Danny makes a few stops on his way back to Steve’s place.  He texts Tani a few times to keep tabs on the team and make sure he knows when Steve’s heading home.  He’s got a caprese salad drizzled with balsamic vinegar on the table and wine opened and breathing on the counter when he hears the front door open.

 Steve appears in the doorway to the kitchen, and Danny’s jaw falls open.  Steve’s wearing a dark gray button-up shirt, collar open at the neck, and black slacks that hug his ass like his cargoes never quite manage.  He even looks freshly shaved.

 “Hey, Danno,” Steve says, voice low, and Danny shivers.  He takes a step towards Steve but somehow trips over his own feet and the carving knife in his hand goes flying to the ground.

 Steve sucks in a breath, and they both stare at the knife, stuck in the floorboards about an inch away from Danny’s bare right toe.  “Huh,” says Steve.  “Lucky.”

 Danny sucks in a breath and shakes his head, trying to grab on to anything at all that makes sense. “Why’re you dressed up?”  he finally comes up with, which isn’t particularly witty but is somewhat better than oh my fucking god what is going on here, which is a close second.

 Steve smirks.  “I’ve got a date.”

 Danny’s heart sinks.  He’s too late, he’s just one goddamn day too late, this is his life every single time.  He was a fool for thinking otherwise.

 “With that vet?”

 Steve looks determined.  “No, not with the vet.”  Steve crouches down at his feet and retrieves the knife, then places it in the sink.  He’s right up in Danny’s space.  “You look nice too,” Steve says, and at first Danny think’s it’s a non sequitur, but then he takes in Steve’s expression, that cocky confidence with an undercurrent of uncertainty, and the way Steve is lining up his own very nicely clad shoulder with Danny’s, and suddenly the clouds part and all is clear.

 “Wait,” Danny says.  “What do you think… How did you…?”

 Steve’s face does something that seems to be a cross between a smirk and a hopeful grin.  “Tani said you texted her a few times today.”

 “So?”

 “She said you were buying wine.”

 Danny bites his lip.  “Again, so?”

 “You never buy wine, unless you’re cooking a fancy meal.”

 “I buy wine all the time.”

 “When was the last time?”

 Danny has to think pretty hard about it, and that’s when he knows he’s losing this particular argument.  He still has hope for winning the war, however, so he stops talking about wine.

 “Can we go back to the part where you said you had a date?  Because you’re not acting like you have a date.”

 “No?”  Steve asks.  “How should I be acting?”  Steve somehow moves even closer to Danny, tilting his head, waiting for Danny’s answer.

 Danny can feel his heart pounding in his chest, and he thinks he might be getting light headed.  

 “Come on, Danny,” Steve says, his breath puffing against Danny’s skin.  “How should I be acting?”

 Danny just blinks up at him, and then he’s saved from having to come up with an answer by Steve’s lips pressing against his own.  Danny thinks he lets out something like a moan as his mouth opens under Steve’s, and he slides his hands up Steve’s back under his ridiculous shirt and pulls him close.

 ****

 “You can’t possibly have known what I was going to do just from Tani telling you I was buying wine.”

 Steve flops over onto his back. The sheet is pulled up just over his stupidly attractive hip bones, and Danny sneakily reaches out a finger to slide it back down again.

 “Honestly, all I knew was that it seemed like you were getting ready for a date,” Steve says.  “And it made me realize that I could lose my chance with you, anytime.  You could meet someone, maybe even that woman you were talking to at the bar this morning, and it would be too late for us.  So I changed into the spare clothes I keep at the office, and figured I’d give it my best shot.”

 Danny pushes up on an elbow. “Have you eaten a radioactive spider lately?  Drank some kind of serum?”

 “No…”

 “Because the mindreading shit is frankly disturbing…  I literally – and I mean the actual meaning of literally, not the one the kids are using these days – I literally had that same thought today.  That you’d finally get up the nerve to ask out that vet again, or fall in love while buying ammunition, or save some gorgeous lady’s pet parakeet from terrorists, and I’d lose my chance with you.”

 Steve turns towards Danny, his face brimming with affection.  “I guess today really was our lucky day, then.”

 Danny grins into Steve’s kiss. He’s gonna send Joanna a fruit basket. And maybe give a great big donation to whatever organization looks out for the honu, because he owes them, too.

[thisislizheather]

June Jaunts 2021

July always feels like one big long nap to me. There’s never really anything going on, kids are off school, adults seem to work less, it’s kind of great in that way. Maybe I won’t hate it this year? In any case, here’s what went down in June.

I compiled the best tweets of June over here and here.

I visited and wrote about the new Rockaway Hotel and pool.

I did Nathan’s podcast amidst his hiatus.

I recapped what I did from my spring list and made an upcoming summer to-do list, which I really encourage you to do on your own.

I read and reviewed The Happiness Advantage by Shawn Archor.

I’ve almost finished watching Living Single and seasons one through four are definitely the best ones. Love the episode where Kyle says goodbye to an old jazz venue that gets demolished, such a solid show.

I just saw the latest issue of the LCBO magazine and someone needs to pick me up that dill pickle vodka immediately.

Dying over how good the Strawberry Pound Cake candle smells from Bath & Body Works. Also picked up the Whipped Coffee candle for later this year from their semi-annual sale.

I went on an impromptu day trip to Connecticut.

I met up with Irene in Chinatown so I went early to walk around because man, I love that area.

Above Photo: Chinatown NYC, June 2021

Above Photo: Doyers Street, Chinatown NYC, June 2021

Above Photo: Irene!

Above Photo: Me!

I ate at dell’anima and it was insanely disappointing. It felt like being in a cafeteria at the mall, it’s just a terrible location. I wasn’t expecting much since I knew it was on 11th Avenue, but still. I had no idea it would be so deeply casual (which is upsetting for an NYC restaurant). The food was as average as could be. Also, can we stop with the plastic cups at restaurants? It’s time.

I also stopped by Anfora which is a pleasant little spot, especially before or after dinner.

I went to Daily Provisions and tried their roast beef sandwich and salted caramel brownie and does everywhere just suck this month? And I support Danny Meyer, but he truly is the master of overpricing food. Also - on what planet can a brownie taste bland?? Tell me??

I’m on the lash extension train again (I know, I’m weak) and I just got them done at Lash Princess in the city and they look incredible so I’m definitely going to return.

I rewatched Baywatch: Hawaiian Wedding and yep, still great.

Love the stationary/toy store Modern State on the Upper East Side.

I’ve heard about cotton candy grapes for years and have never been able to get ahold of them, but I just found them and whoa! Everything you want them to be and more. Am I bothered by the fact that they’re 1000% modified and MUST be terrible for humans to eat? A bit.

I finally ate the Wednesday sandwich special at Mama’s Too on the Upper West Side and it was pretty incredible. It was a roast beef au jus with horseradish cream on top of their house-made pizza crust. It was a little heavy on the fatty pieces of meat, but once those were taken out, it was insanity to eat. Take a look.

Above Photo: Roast beef au jus with horseradish cream at Mama’s Too, NYC

We saw A Quiet Place 2 in theatres and yes it’s an okay movie but it was too suspenseful for me after not seeing a movie in theatres for so long. I don’t think I want any more suspense in my life

We also watched The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It at home and meh. Patrick Wilson can still get it, though.

Yet another great song off of Olivia Rodrigo’s album.

I finally got a reservation at Forsythia and it was looooovely, I can’t wait to go again. The restaurant itself is beautiful and such a perfect date place, the chairs are gorgeous and comfortable, the service was flawless and the pastas were phenomenal (the garganelli was a standout for sure). And god knows how much I love a place that serves their bread with olive oil as well as butter, WHY DOESN’T EVERY PLACE DO THIS?

I had to try the panzanella salad at L’Artusi and of course it’s great, but it’s also just so genius to put the cheese ON THE BOTTOM of a salad like this one. (Also, I’ll forever support whatever this team wants to do.)

Above Photo: Heirloom Tomato & Burrata Panzanella with Stonefruit, Sourdough, Basil, Yuza, Nigella at L’Artusi, NYC

Above Photo: Bucatini with Pancetta, Tomato, Chiles, Pecorino at L’Artusi, NYC

I tried the new Milk Bar cookies at Whole Foods and they truly taste like the cake truffles at their stores, so watch out.

The two best gelato flavours at il laboratorio del gelato? 1) Peach 2) Ginger. I’m telling you.

I’ve been looking for the perfect navy raincoat for years and I finally found her at J. Crew on sale for $71.

I tried the gelato at Anita Gelato and even though the wild strawberry with ricotta & mascarpone was really good, there’s no way it’s worth waiting in line for twenty minutes.

Above Photo: Wild strawberry with ricotta & mascarpone with a vanilla scoop, Anita Gelato in NYC

A great piece, with great photos on NYC reopening.

I made hash browns at home and does everyone do this already? It’s ridiculously easy and satisfying and I had no idea.

I’ve been on a real orzo bender lately and this tomato one was great. So was this lemon basil one (I added a ton of fresh parmesan and it was nuts).

This sketch is old, but I just saw it for the first time and man it’s great.

The new Halloween trailer is out and I want to love it but can’t we just let some things die?

This Target candle reminds me of Florida vacations and I want to buy ten.

I stupidly ate at Eataly (don’t do it, especially if you live in New York, you should know better) and of course it was bad. What a smart idea to eat at a place called Le Pizza & La Pasta, I’m a moron. Even smarter, I got the steak tartare and it was as bland as the day is long (and look I know I’m a clown for not even ordering pizza OR pasta when it’s in the name). The basil vodka cocktail was pretty good, though.

One thing that Eataly is good for, though, is selling really good dried pastas. I finally tried the brand Afeltra (the pasta as well as their canned tomatoes) and wowza. Definitely will be buying again. Best dried brand I’ve tried so far. Oh! I also bought this Ponti Balsamic Vinegar that tastes like candy, it’s so good. It’s thicker than other balsamics, so maybe it’s more of a finishing vinegar but I highly recommend.

I made these white chocolate apricot scones (and then later that week some white chocolate strawberry scones) and they were phenomenal. I did use cake flour because that’s all I had and I think that might be the reason they tasted so great. Also, it’s a wildly easy recipe to follow incase you’re intimidated by the word “scone.”

Above Photo: White chocolate apricot scone

I started watching the new season of Dave and it’s so well done I could scream (do you remember how good this part was from last season?). Such a good show. I do sort of hate men more by the end of each episode, so I don’t know what that’s about but I think I’m okay with it.

Bought a new nonstick frying pan (the GreenPan) and it’s incredible. Sometimes the answer is new cookware, no matter the question.

Nathan bought a new filtered shower-head and it’s making me excited for every shower now. Just a powerhouse. Feels like I’m at a hotel in there.

Since it’s summer, I’d love to make these summer recipes:

Grilled Caprese Skewers with Halloumi and Sourdough

Pan-Seared Scallops with Chorizo and Corn

BLT Pasta Salad

Summer Coconut Chickpea Curry

Strawberry Crumble Coffee Cake

Some things that I’m looking forward to: I’m not usually into miniseries but Nine Perfect Strangers looks pretty good so I might watch that, we’re going to TWO weddings this month so that will be wonderful, and I really need to get back in a pool so I’m working on that happening.

If you have any interest in reading what went on in May, come on over here.

[yoolee]

Hey, so I’m thinking I may be ace but not entirely sure? I have zero desire nor interest to have sex nor do I see people in a sexual light (not very often anyways). I keep doubting myself that since I haven’t been in a relationship that perhaps I just “have to wait for the one” but I really couldn’t care less about who I get with (man or woman, I don’t really have a preference)or when. I think that I *am* ace but then again I keep doubting myself. Any advice on how to figure out such things?

OH MY GOD APPARENTLY I HAD A LOT OF THOUGHTS ON THIS SORRY.

TL;DR - BRAINS ARE WEIRD. BODIES ARE WEIRD. BOTH ARE INVOLVED IN SEXUAL ATTRACTION and both are dynamic - so try not to worry about fitting a single definition for all time, and go easy on yourself - your body feels what it feels and what’s right for you.

In this LITERAL SIX PAGE ESSAY I will ramble more:

CAN I CONDENSE THIS into bullet points let’s try:

It’s okay not to define yourself. We all learn things about ourselves as we grow and experience things, and (as a whole) sexual attraction isn’t a one-time-done-deal (though aspects may be)

It’s typically easier to know what we DON’T WANT than it is to know what we DO, so don’t feel weird about not knowing for sure

The media has NO IDEA how often or how little people think about sex and trust me the answer to that question varies WILDLY.

Check out AVEN to read about experiences and see if any of them feel like yours.

Know that level of sexual interest fluctuates over time based on all kinds of inputs (age, medication, other people, stress), so don’t worry too much about changes from your baseline limited/no interest - it’s a bucket, not a pre-measured dose.

If you DO decide to try a relationship or try physical intimacy, do it for YOU not because you feel like you should, and be upfront with your partner about your baseline interest levels before you make it to a bed (or wherever else you choose to instigate)

If you decide it’s not something you want to explore, but you still want an intimate or romantic relationship with someone - know that it’s absolutely possible, more common than you might think, and definitely doable. It may take a few tries, and a few awkward conversations, but those get easier. 

OKAY NOW THE LONG ASS VERSION SORRY

It’s okay not to define yourself. We all learn things about ourselves as we grow and experience things, and (as a whole) sexual attraction isn’t a one-time-done-deal (though aspects may be)

I don’t think how you feel about sex is something you figure out once and are done with, so I’d encourage you to be open to the idea that your definition for yourself may flex a little or change with factors like age or medication that you’re on or the people you’re with, and that’s okay! And it may not, that’s also okay! Bodies and brains are weird and also dynamic, sometimes things are hard coded (whether or not cilantro tastes like soap!) Some things vary over predictable pattern (generally, kiddo taste buds are wired to prefer sweet and this, generally along a predictable sort of timeline, decreases as they age) and sometimes WHO THE FUCK KNOWS (why does person A prefer A dark roast coffee and person B a medium roast and person C thinks both taste like mud and would like to stick to their peppermint tea, please, which person D - Lee - can’t even stand the barest, faintest, tiniest sip of it?) and sometimes the right circumstances make the difference (Person F may hate brussel sprouts - unless grandma makes them with her magic balsamic vinegar, but it’s not the same when Aunt E tries) point being - give yourself some grace if you don’t feel like you perfectly fit one single bucket at all points in your life.

 Consider, to go back to food - Sally KNOWS she’s allergic to peanuts and that cilantro tastes like soap. These are hard coded. So even without trying a Thai stiryfry with peanut sauce, she knows it’s not for her. Less clearly life or death, she’s not a fan of catfish, just because the texture is kind of rubbery, even though her sister loves it. How does she feel about seabass? Dunno, she hasn’t had it. If she has a general idea that seafood’s not her thing, cool - plenty of other things to eat (in this metaphor, plenty of other kinds of relationships to have with people! Physical intimacy is only one) if, one day, she decides to try it, she may learn she likes it, and she also may learn she likes seabass EVEN LESS than catfish. But she can also live her whole life not knowing for sure, and--who cares what her seafood preference is? Why does she have to tell anyone - unless she’s going over to someone’s house and they ask what she likes so they can serve it, and she can tell them, definitely no peanuts or cilantro, not a huge fan of seafood (or, not a huge fan of seafood but if you have a recipe you really like, I may be willing to try it? Both are okay). It may also turn out that the first time she had it, she kinda liked it, but then she had it prepared by someone else and, nope, gross and weird. There’s all sorts of reasons why what tasted one way today will taste different tomorrow. Not everything changes like that (see, peanuts - or, in this metaphor, your kind of baseline) but it may fluctuate a bit in a number of directions, based on a number of factors, internal and external (who prepares the seabass! Is it fresh?) 

 The internet is often one of the few safe spaces for people to openly, proudly define themselves from a sexual identity perspective, so you see a lot of folk doing so - and that’s GREAT. But I PROMISE YOU there’s a HUGE POPULATION who is right there with you going...am I this? Or that? Why don’t I know? 

It’s typically easier to know what we DON’T WANT than it is to know what we DO

Seriously. It is. Maybe you aren’t sure if you want to kiss someone or not. I bet you DO know that you DON’T want to kiss rusty chainsaw blade dripping mysterious green goo. While there are personalities that are very good at clear decisions and classifications (I want to eat at Restaurant A because I want tacos and Restaurant A is the first restaurant I know of that serves tacos) there is also an equally common personality that is wired towards possibilities. (I could eat tacos. But pasta also sounds good, and so does baingan ka bharta.) For the latter, it’s usually easier to focus in on, I don’t know what I want but I know I do NOT want a sandwich. And that’s okay

(related - sometimes our bodies don’t even know we’re hungry. Are we? Or are we thirsty? WHO KNOWS) 

Hopping back to Sally and her seabass. Sally knows for sure she’s not into catfish. She’s never eaten catfish, but they freak her out and her stomach flips over just thinking about it. Cool. But seabass? She doesn’t feel that immediate stomach flip aversion. But her mouth doesn’t water either. She KNOWS her sister tried it and love it. But you know what? Her sister also likes reality TV so her judgement? Different than Sally’s. 

Whether she wants to try it one day or not doesn’t change anything except what tense she can use when talking about it. If she tries it, maybe she’ll learn she LOVES seabass. Maybe she’ll learn she only likes it when a particular chef makes it, and only if it’s seasoned with chili flakes first. And, also, honestly, maybe she will try it, and it will make her sick and lead to a miserable 24 hours in the bathroom and a wish she’d never tried it. That’s a risk. It’s up to Sally if she wants to take it, and whether she does or not, NOBODY ELSE’S BUSINESS except hers and the potential chef making it.

Society is weird about this SO WEIRD and puts SO MUCH PRESSURE - ignore it. There is no ‘normal’ when it comes, specifically, interest level in engaging with sexual activities

If you find yourself pressured to ‘try’ - ask yourself how much of it is YOU and how much of it is SOCIETY. It’s okay to try if you want to, or you’re curious. BUT if you’re trying because you think you ‘should’ I’m gonna tell you flat out and point blank that you are probably going to be in for a very uncomfortable experience, literally and figuratively. And y’all listen. Media does NOT align with reality. It does a lot of people a hug disservice with its prevalent narratives about sex drives. Some of the horniest people I know are cis women in their forties, and I knew teenage cis guys embarrassed and worried that all they wanted was to cuddle when movies were shoving down their throats that they should be thinking sex 24/7. Don’t assume anything about your potential partners.

You don’t have to try something if your gut says, not for you. 

Personal experience? I’ve had to break off relationships with some good people (and some shitty ones) because I was hoping for something to click into place and it never did. Those were harder to end than the ones where the other person did something bad or dumb or stupid, because there wasn’t any one thing I could point to. But as much as it sucked to dump people I liked but didn’t connect with on levels I had hoped, I think we both learned stuff, and it wasn’t time wasted. Others, I was better prepared to say up front, and we explored other options together that we both got something out of, and they ended for other reasons (....usually me being like, ugh, other people and their emotions, no thanks, but, I’m also kind of a self-centered bitch, full disclosure, which you could probably guess from the fact I am STILL TALKING)

Communication is key

To that point, if you ever find yourself in a relationship that seems to be drifting from casual to serious, COMMUNICATE. Tell your partner up front that hey, you’re not sure sex is for you, you’re not into intimate touch, are they okay with that. If NO, you’ve saved both of you some future heartache, if YES, then it’s on the table to talk about later and explore--or not--together. And you don’t have to worry about how or when to bring it up for the first time. The earlier you do it, the less stressful it will be, promise, because you can lay that casual tidbit, and it’s out there. Communication is key. 

You don’t owe society sex, and you don’t owe your partner sex, not even to see if it’s for you or not. But you do owe them communication and honesty. If physical intimacy is something your partner needs to feel fulfilled in a relationship, and it’s not for you - then a romantic relationship may not be right for you both. It’s okay not to know that up front as long as you communicate it may be a possibility and get their buy-in, and communicate when you ARE sure. As much as that sucks, it’s a thing just like any other (like, person A wants kids and person B doesn’t - there are some things were there isn’t exactly a compromise, and everyone ends up miserable - baseline expectations around sexual needs can be one of them).

It’s easier than it sounds - Hey, not gonna lie, you’re cute and this is fun but kissing is as far as it goes for now. Hands there don’t really do it for me. Before this goes further, I just want to be upfront that I consider myself ace, so I don’t really see sex happening. Before this goes further, I’m pretty new at the whole sex thing and honestly not sure it’s really for me, so I need you to go slow. Etc etc etc. Most of the time you get an ‘okay’ and life goes on. Sometimes they ask questions in which case, shiny! Communication! Answer honestly, and ask in return. 

You’re not drawing up a legally binding contract about you will or won’t do - you’re just aligning expectations, and check in with them when they change. 

 Check out stories!

Check out AVEN. Even within asexuality, there’s a lot of variability in how people define themselves - read some of the experiences and see if any of them feel close enough to yours that the definition feels ‘right’ for you. If not, don’t sweat it! Just means you’re still exploring. Some people find they can masturbate but once another person is involved, it’s a no-go. Others find that it takes a long time to ramp them up but it’s possible with a patient partner they trust. Others never feel anything. Others are okay with it in the moment, but don’t spontaneously feel their own desire to instigate it. Asexuality is a pretty welcoming variety!

 Sex drive is impacted by a lotta things

Know that lots of things impact sex drive in particular. Like. Again, for cis women, the data suggests the more you have sex the more you want it - it can ramp up like that. Also, some people get going with visuals (pictoral imagination, porn, naked people in front of them) but a LOT of people need WORDS (legit, why do you think romance novels are such a booming business?) this can come in things partner says or, you know, written erotica (Just like with porn though you have to be careful - recommend Smart bitches, trashy lit) 

It doesn’t necessarily remain static over time. For example, medication and age are both two big inputs to this (ask any nursing home staff - I’m deadly serious. It’s honestly a little concerning because of dementia and consent issues, but like, it’s a thing for sex drives to WILDLY SPIKE in 80 somethings) you could be in a lull, or impacted by meds (for example, hormonal BC is pretty well known to suppress sex drive, and yet, being pregnant--which hormonal BC supposedly mimics to an extent--tends to make some folk absolutely and unexpectedly nutters for physical sensation)

It can be kinda shocking to go, like, years without any interest in sex as an activity or people as sexual partners, and then all of a sudden hormones whallop you upside the head and scream at you do something about them - that doesn’t mean WHO YOU ARE has changed. It just means your biology is responding to something. ANd listen 

L I S T E N

If we knew HOW, consistently, to turn attraction on and off? That would be a thing.

We don’t.

Like. One of the weird ass symptoms of SLEEP PARALYSIS of all things, which is basically, a nightmare you have where you think you’re awake but you aren’t (you ARE semi conscious) and you can’t move, is the idea of an incubus hanging out in the room, because people feel like spontaneously aroused. And we have NO IDEA WHY. And it’s NOT ALL THE TIME. ANd yet it’s documented across CULTURES across TIME, it’s a THING. 

So. 

If your body is not doing something other bodies are doing - well, it’s doing what it needs to to be your body. If your body suddenly stops or starts doing something, and it concerns you (sudden appearance of sex drive! Sudden vanishing of it!) talk to a doc. 

Otherwise - your hair gets longer, sometimes you get freckles where you never had them before, your tastebuds change. This is just one more thing on the list of shrug.

[loulougoingsolo]

“You know you’re after tang”

I love salads. In fact, a bowl of fresh salad is probably my favourite thing to eat for lunch - or dinner. I’ve always been baffled by some vegetarians who say they don’t like vegetables that much, and rarely eat salad, because it’s like the best thing there is. Of course, just how tasty and enjoyable a salad is, comes often down to the dressing.

I’ve been on all kinds of diets for half of my life, and at one point, I did try to find a consumable light salad dressing. The ones I tried only succeesed in making me eat less salad, and once I learned that the vegetable oils in dressings are actually healthy in moderate amounts, I just decided never to buy a light dressing again. If I want to keep things light, I’ll just use balsamic vinegar, but 99 percent of the time, my go-to dressing is an off brand garlic dressing, which I love.

But, in the name of science, today’s GMM is all about tasting regular and light dressings, in order to find out, if it’s ever worth while to go light.

The first dressing to test out is caesar. My personal opinion is that regardless of the fat content, caesar should not be a thing. I once accidentally tried caesar dressing, having already been vegetarian for over a decade, and I thought I was being poisoned. If you want to eat fish (anchovies), put it on the salad, not the dressing. Or, at least, label it so that an ignorant peasant girl like me understands, that it contains fish (yeah, I was a lil’ traumatized).

After a gentle dink, we find out that even Rhett thinks the anchovy taste is off-putting. I’d happily build an entire deck if that meant I’d never have to eat caesar salad again (besides, building decks is fun).

I don’t usually go for ranch dressing unless it’s the only one available, but my initial thought is reducing the fat of ranch will severly impact the flavour, and no surprise, that is the case according to Rhett and Link. And since the serial killer is going to catch me sooner or later regardless of which dressing I choose, there’s really no point in eating healthy in this scenario, right? Instead of running, I’ll just finish my salad and accept my faith. And since I’m already dying, I can even eat the raw carrots which I can’t normally digest. It’s a win-win!

Ah, Thousand Island brings back memories. For some reason, back in the old days, garlic dressing was never an option anywhere. At home, we had a mustard dressing (which I didn’t like), and something else, and usually, that something else was Thousand Island. It seemed like an ok dressing as a kid, but nowadays, it just tastes like tomatoes to me. And kinda bland. But what is a protein style turkey burger? Is that a no bun burger? (Why do I want a burger now?) Does Link have a sixth sense to instantly finding even a hidden slice of tomato?

It would probably take me 35 minutes to fold just one origami crane, but if Rhett ends up starting his own Pinterest account of just folding paper, I’ll follow that.

Nicole is really trying to push Link into eating tomatoes, apparently. There are quite a few of them in the salads for the Italian dressing round. I’ve definately tried a fat free version of an Italian dressing, and that is possibly the saddest thing ever. When a dressing is mostly vinegar and oil, if you remove the oil, there’s very little left to enjoy. And many spices require the fatty part to taste right. No wonder the light version lacked layers. And I have only fond memories of cooking with my grandma, so I’m happy to work out the extra calories in the kitchen. Besides, a good experience in life needs to have a bottom and a top (and everything in between).

I hate blue cheese, so you know what my opinion of blue cheese dressing is, but man, does Link have an efficient way of eating a chicken wing! That is some engineering degree level skill, and it leaves more time for cracking some slightly inappropriate jokes.

In More we get more ranch, and it seems that identifying ranch flavours might be Link’s hidden talent. Nicole’s hidden talent is her ability to throw the ranch bottles with perfection, and for some reason, the guys are really good at catching them. My primitive reaction to someone throwing anything at me is to close my eyes and take cover, and I’m also very bad a throwing things, so all this baffles me.

But now it’s time for me to go and fix myself a salad, because it’s past lunchtime here, so I’m going to end this post with this short exchange between Rhett and Link from GMMore, because it made me giggle:

Link: “Did you just eat that?”

Rhett: “Yeah.”

Link: “You ate it without me.”

Rhett: “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I ate it without you.”

Link: “Is this good to you? Because it’s not good to me.”

Oh, and one more question: Can you buy Viagra at a gas station in the US? And how did Link get to that idea from tasting ranch dressings?

[wilsonsnest]

semi-cataclysmic events | sambucky

Oof, had to get this one out of my system. Not beta’d, will post on ao3 later when I have time.

Summary: It took time travel for Steve to figure his shit out, so Bucky doesn’t think he’s doing too bad.

“So, you and Sam…?”

Bucky looks over at Steve and squints suspiciously. He looks infuriatingly serene, a small secretive smile on his lips. Ever since he came back, he’s taken the grandpa schtick and run with it. Even now, their taking a leisurely paced walk around the Mall while Sam is lapping them at a steady pace. Bucky’s fairly certain Steve could still run with the best of him, but pretending to hobble around really seems to amuse him more than it should. ‘Keeping up appearances’ he had cheerfully informed Bucky one morning.

Bucky doesn’t have much of an excuse, other than that they’ve actually got a break from missions and actually getting out of bed before 8am is enough of a sacrifice. Sam, as hardworking as ever, has a routine to keep up with and refuses to bend no matter how much Bucky begs. Its infuriatingly noble and warms Bucky’s heart.

“Me and Sam.” Bucky mumbles, kicking one foot so that his shoe makes a a scraping noise against the cement. Run or Talk. Two options, neither very appealing.

“Have you told him?” Steve asks, knowing full well what the answer is. “He’s waiting for you, you know.”

Does Bucky know? Not really. He watches Sam, who is steadily gaining on them for another lap. The sun is coming up behind him, and Bucky almost wants to take his cellphone out and snap a picture. Luckily Bucky isn’t that much of a weirdo.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Bucky sighs and slides his eyes over to look at his friend. “Stop looking at me like that.”

Steve’s eyebrows are raised, the wrinkles on his forehead pronounced. Its annoying that he can still pull off innocent when he looks like someone’s grandfather (He is actually a grandpa, something he’s quite proud of).

“Take some advice from an old man.” Steve ignores him when he scoffs. “Don’t wait too long, you’ll regret it.”

Bucky looks over at him, tight-lipped. He’s never asked, but he wonders if Steve regrets how it all happened. Sure he got his happy ending, but it still cost him. Friends, family and so much more. Bucky knows it wasn’t all sunflowers and roses for Steve, but it still stings.

“Nah,” He answered, looking at the reflecting pool. “Figured I’d wait until the next cataclysmic galaxy threatening event to go back in time and tell him how I feel.”

It’s biting, and meaner then Bucky meant it to be. He can’t look at Steve, his old man face will make him feel even more like an asshole. Steve puts a hand on his shoulder, heavy and comforting in a way he doesn’t deserve. Especially when he knows Steve is just trying to help.

“Sorry.” He says quietly. Sam passes them with a wave, he’s panting hard, and theres a laser focus in his eyes. Sam has about two more laps in him before he calls it a day. Then they’ll all go out for breakfast, pick up some balsamic vinegar because Sam wants a fresh salad for lunch and then head home for movies and cards. “It’s fine, Steve. Everything is fine.”

xxxxx

Everything is very not fine at the moment.

Bucky curses and ducks down next to some undergrowth. Bullets are flying and smoke is filling the air so densely that he can’t see his targets. It’s impossible to get a lock on where Sam is visually, and the other man isn’t answering his comm. Whatever element of surprise they might have had is completely blown.

This was supposed to be an easy job, but now Bucky’s worried about just getting out of it alive. He presses the button on his earpiece. “Get me a location on Wilson, now.” His voice is much calmer than he feels in the moment.

The Shield agent on the other side says that they’ve lost all contact and they're sending in someone to pick them up. It’s too late for that though, theres no enough time for Bucky to wait for them.

The shooting has died down, the enemy probably thinks that Bucky has either run or been taken down by now. Cursing he crawls from the bushes and begins to pick his way stealthily towards the base. He hates going in with a plan, but he hates the idea of Sam being dead more.

The bunker is built low in a valley, and the smoke has started clearing already. Theres a distinct lack of gun shots or even shouting coming from the area and the smoke seems to be coming from the building itself. Bucky frowns, his weapon raised as he stalks into the clearing. He sees bodies, near the entrance, obviously fleeing, but they aren’t moving either dead or knocked out already.

He hears groaning, coming from the tree-line, and he looks over. It’s Sam, his uniform is torn and his wing pack is nowhere to be seen but he’s alive. Bucky doesn’t hesitate before running to him, his heart nearly caught in his throat.

Sam is leaning against a tree, the shoulders of his costume and ripped and charred. He’s wrapping his own leg with shaky hands, and Bucky can’t quite tell where the blood is coming from, only that theres a lot of it.

“God, Sam.” He tosses his weapon aside and immediately crouches and moves into Sam’s space, waving away his hands so he can assess the damage. “Stupid. You’re so fucking stupid.”

“Fuck off, Barnes.” Sam says completely without heat. He’s smiling weakly though. It’s a testament to how shit he must feel that he doesn’t stop Bucky from bandaging him up. “Just jealous ‘cuz I got here first.”

His words are starting to slur, and his eyes are glassy and wet. Bucky grunts, and ducks his head, pressing his earpiece again. “Located Wilson, we need evac immediately.” He gives their coordinates and then begins checking Sam over for other injuries.

“Getting handsy there, buddy.” Sam sounds amused, but his words are starting to slur together and his eyes are drooping. Bucky presses his gloves hands to Sam’s face and shakes him just a little.

“Hey, stay awake for me, yeah?” Bucky’s voice does not crack as he watches the awareness in Sam’s eyes start fading. He catches him before Sam tilts over and curses under his breath. “No, no, come on. Don’t do this to me, Wilson. Don’t.”

He holds him tight, whispering into the side of his head until he hears the sound of a chopper overhead.

xxxxx

“Really, Barnes?”

Bucky nearly jumps out of his skin, not realizing he had almost fallen asleep in the uncomfortable hospital armchair. He blinks hazily, the lights way too bright and everything far too reflective.

“Over here, sleepyhead.”

Sam’s tired, but cheeky voice draws Bucky’s gaze. He looks over and feels like he could collapse right onto the floor. It’s been two days, Sam completely out for all of it and Bucky refused to move from his side. The Doctors insisted his injuries weren’t extreme, but Bucky was fairly certain that someone being unconscious for days was exceptionally extreme.

He reaches over and touches Sam’s hand lightly, carefully of the IVs he’s currently hooked up on. His face is ashen, and theres a bruise on the right side of his temple, but otherwise he looks okay. Bucky’s just so glad he’s finally awake.

“I know,” Bucky takes a deep, shaky breath. “That you are Captain America now, but you really, really don’t have to copy every stupid thing that Steve ever did.”

Sam snorts, and then winces a little. He looks at Bucky, his lips pursed. “Says the man who takes flirting advice from him. Trouble Man, really?”

Bucky can feel heat rising in his face, he had forgotten he had put the music on playing quietly in the background. It was one of the first things Steve had introduced to him to when he was getting back on his feet. He hadn’t explained the significance of the music at all, only that it helped him relax and stop thinking so hard.

He vaguely wonders if Steve ever figured out what Sam had been hinting at. Steve was always bad at picking up romantic cues like that. Luckily, that seemed to be one thing Sam and Steve didn’t have in common.

“Is it working?” Bucky can’t stop the blush, and once the words are out theres nothing he can do about it. This is happening, its actually happening.

“The music? No. That’s mea and Steve’s thing.” Sam says. But he smiles gently, tilting his head back so that he can look at Bucky fully. “But everything else? Me and you? Definitely working.”

The tension flees from Bucky’s body and he smiles, big and dopey and he’s so relieved he couldn’t care less. He notices Sam looking at him imploringly, one eyebrow raised in an okay, what are you waiting for? kind of way.

He doesn’t need more than that before he leans over the hospital bed and presses a sweet kiss to Sam’s lips. Steve would be proud. He finally did it. Only a semi-cataclysmic event needed.

[mirandagoing4baroque]

Field of Streams: Ariodante, in Concert, While Making Lasagna

The English Concert was supposed to perform Rodelinda in concert at Carnegie Hall on May 3rd 2020. Obviously they did not. In some ways I am lucky--if the Met hadn’t done Agrippina I might have made plans come to New York to see Rodelinda instead. It wouldn’t be unprecedented. In fact, in 2014, I finally got to call in an IOU over a decade old. As I mentioned on this blog, when I was in kindergarten and first heard Alcina, I managed to get my father to promise to take me to see Alcina live whenever it came to the east coast. And more than twenty years later we finally got to see the English Concert perform it in concert in Carnegie Hall. In the intervening years there was a debate about whether Toronto counted as the east coast, but my father insisted that he had only meant the east coast of the United States. And when the English Concert brought Ariodante on tour in 2017 they were kind enough to take the show to the Kennedy Center which was considerably more convenient.

As a replacement for the aforementioned cancelled Rodelinda concert, they streamed a recording of the Ariodante in Concert recorded at and live streamed from Carnegie Hall in 2017. As I mentioned above, I was lucky enough to see this concert at the Kennedy Center when it was touring, and I also watched the stream at the time, and then I rewatched it when it was streamed again this past weekend (twice, I regret nothing). So I am, shall we say, intimately familiar with this production.

Opera in concert is an interesting phenomena. I’ve seen three operas in concert (Alcina, Ariodante, Zelmira) and a few others that were only ‘semi-staged’ (Don Giovanni 2x, Radamisto, Giulio Cesare at Boston Baroque). Well, Miranda, you say, “the monkey paw has curled, and you got what you wished for in the Acis and Galatea review, an opera stripped of any ‘razzle dazzle’ or distractions. So, can the emotional drama stand alone?” On this subject I cannot speak for anyone other than myself but I believe it can and it does. I am sure that there are those for whom the grand sets and costumes are an integral part of the experience, and that is a legitimate position to take, but not one to which I ascribe.

However, especially in these times, watching operas in concert (stay tuned for my review of the Boston Baroque Agrippina stream) makes me think about what the bare essentials of opera are. The sets and costumes are fun, sure, and all other things being equal, I would rather have sets and costumes and the full spectacle. And they can cover a multitude of sins. It is far more difficult to create an entertaining production when it is just the orchestra, the singers, and an empty stage. But this production is, to me, as moving as some fully staged productions I’ve seen. So what is the immutable core of these operas? What is it that I am searching for when I am “Going for Baroque?”

The value I find in opera is as an emotional touchstone. This is not a novel concept, and I am not the first, or even the thousandth to think it. Why it is Baroque Opera for me and Jazz or R&B for you, I cannot say,* but when I hear this music performed well my heart (or my soul, or my grey matter, or whatever the thing is that is that feels the feels) stirs in response. So what I am looking for when I am going to an opera is not a spectacle. I am looking for a conflict that put the characters through a variety of feelings, music that is performed with care in a baroque style, and singers and musicians who will sing or play with pathos, so I can have the transcendental experience of sharing an emotional response with a room of strangers, and most importantly, with my father. We have been watching many of the same streams, and sharing our thoughts over the telephone but it’s not the same as sitting next to him in a hushed auditorium and seeing, out of the corner of my eye, a small small creep across his face as the horns come in because he knows they are my favorite. I am counting down the days until we can share this again.

But enough philosophizing. Let’s review the stream. So we know the standard, how did this production measure up? Well, I watched it four times, so that’s a hint. In fact as to music performed in the Baroque style, this performance could be considered a gold standard (of course along with the Glyndebourne Giulio Cesare). I am such a sucker for period instruments. To my ear the difference between Baroque Opera performed with and without period instruments is the difference between your average red wine vinegar, and an expensive aged balsamic. The red wine vinegar is fine, but the aged balsamic has a far more interesting, layered, intense flavor. This is especially true with respect to brass, where the natural horn is basically a completely different instrument from the french horn. The English Concert has never once disappointed me. Harry Bicket is always a master of the correct tempo, but in this concert, the flowing dance rhythms that undergird the arias really shone.

So next up we have a drama that puts the characters through a variety of feelings. If you need a refresher on the plot of Ariodante, I covered it earlier here (and if you’re too lazy to click the link, think the Hero/Claudius plot from Much Ado About Nothing), but there is no debating that it certainly takes the characters on a roller coaster of emotional situations. The stellar cast dug deeply into the libretto and squeezed every drop of feeling from Handel’s brilliant arias. Ariodante was composed when Handel was at the peak of his operatic abilities and it contains some of his most sublime music. 

Mirroring the tasteful stylings of the orchestra the cast had subtle but effective ornamentations in the da capo sections that elevated the theme but did not obscure it (no mean feat in such arias as “Dopo Notte”).  The King of Scotland was played by Matthew Brook, who I do not believe I had seen before and nor have I seen him since. I really enjoyed his performance and he was an especially capable actor. He leaned into the paternal aspects of the role, and I found his emotional arc quite moving. David Portillo was a wonderful Lurcanio, and I still hope to see him again in something (hint, hint, DC directors). I particularly enjoyed his “Tu Vivi.”  In this aria Lurcanio tries to dissuade his brother Ariodante from choosing suicide after seeing a woman they believe (incorrectly) to be Ginevra let a man into her rooms. It is often sung in a rage, which allows for blistering speed and impressive displays of vocal prowess, but in David Portillo’s interpretation, it was a desperate plea to save his brother's life. By toning the aria down a notch, he accessed some very interesting interpersonal and emotional drama that added novel layers to a familiar aria.

This was my first time hearing Sonia Prina live, but I had fallen in love with her voice on many Baroque recordings. She has a wonderful vibrancy and fluidity  in her lower register, which is particularly critical for women playing Polinesso, in my opinion. Sometimes they can sound a little stilted in the low runs, but she had full power and flexibility. I also appreciated her aesthetic. The punk rock bad guy Polinesso she portrayed was believable as a love interest for Dalinda, and as a villain. It is not her fault that Polinesso’s arias are all a little one note (think Iago’s extensive monologues in Othello).

I absolutely adored Mary Bevan’s Dalinda. I hadn’t heard her prior to this concert, and I eagerly await my next opportunity (still waiting......). She was believable as a young woman who fell in love with the wrong manipulative man and made a mistake. I loved her portrayal of the rising horror throughout the second half as she realized what was going on. I always love "Neghittosi, or voi che fate?", the aria where she calls on the heavens to strike down the man who wronged her, but I found her interpretation to be a particularly affecting vision of female empowerment and rejecting the notion that she was culpable, and laying the blame squarely at the feet of Polinesso, where it belongs.

This was also my introduction to Christiane Karg, who was a vocal standout as Ginevra. I would have liked a little more emotion from her, but, as I’ve acknowledged above, I like my Handel drama cranked to eleven, so that may just be personal preference. Regardless of the acting, her singing was note-perfect and I have no real complaints.

Which brings us at last to Joyce DiDonato. Her performance in this production is one of my most treasured concert memories, and the kind of magic you are just grateful to bear witness to. Any performance of “Scherza Infida” is a miracle of acting and vocal stamina. As I said in my last review of Ariodante, the song is 12 minutes long, and contains four lines of distinct lyrics. To hold the audience’s attention with no prancing dancers in nude bodysuits, with only your voice and the music--that is a gift. But you can google reviews of this production and read critics who know far more about this than I do raving about her “Scherza Infida” and her “Dopo Notte.” I want to talk about the redheaded stepchild of Ariodante’s third act arias “"Cieca notte." This is the moment when Ariodante learns that he was fooled--that he was betrayed by his beloved, that in fact he has betrayed her. (Apparently I have a thing for arias in which Handelian heros realize they have been fooled, see also, “Mi Lusinga” from Alcina) To watch her sing this aria, and to see the distinct waves of realization rolling across Ariodante’s soul as the aria progresses is to watch a master at work. I will at some point write up my magnum opus on how, when properly performed, da capo arias should replicate the structure of the Hegelian Dialectic, but that is a problem for another day.

So there it is, how you can strip away all but the absolute essential bits from an opera and still have a dynamic, dramatic, engrossing evening (even when you’ve seen the thing three times already). Because for me, I got what I needed out of it. I felt that resonance in my soul. I found a little comfort in these times. It’s no replacement for live opera, but it soothed a bit my parched throat. Okay, I lied, I do have a few things to say about “Dopo Notte.” Ever since I watched this stream, I’ve been listening to “Dopo Notte,” the bravura aria Ariodante sings at the end of the show, rejoicing in his reunion with Genevra, almost every day, because it is the tonic I need during these times (you can listen here if you think it might be the tonic your soul needs too). It is a promise I make to myself; permission to let myself hope. A promise that the sun will shine again, that these dark and stormy waters will not drag us under, and that someday I will sit next to my father in a dark opera house, and we will once again share in the experience of Handel’s glorious music.

“After a dark night, the sun shines in the heavens and fills the world with joy...”

*It was definitely the brainwashing.