#Grape Growing Elevation
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spurbleu ¡ 2 months ago
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scapegoat / tucked tail - john price
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nsfw. ao3. ~4k
s. the old bruise in his eyes is gone. in its place, blue charcoal ignites, licking at his pupil in a dilated, focused anger. “doesn’t feel good, f'your space to be invaded,” his cigar breathes embers over the bridge of your nose, “does it?”
or, you and your boss get stuck in an elevator.
cw. fem reader. pnv. fingering. power imbalance/inappropriate work dynamics.
for @tobeholyistobeempty <3 thanks for letting me rant about him, love being abhorrent with you.
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The world feels odd today.
Tectonic shift. An onslaught of rubble plateaus at your feet as you stand in the elevator. You taste the disquiet in your coffee and try to find its source in the tile grout. This anxiety is an old knife, sweating against a whetstone and the back of your neck.
Your mind searches for a scapegoat- forgotten papers, an unlocked door, perhaps the stove top was left on. But you come up empty-handed and are left to swim in these troubling waters alone and wondering.
The elevator bell brings you back to the morning. Opening doors reveal grey carpet and China blue walls. Clouds with silver linings that shade over the windows. Ceiling lamps. The familiarity should bring you comfort, but the knife is still at your throat as you walk to the main office.
Rounding the corner, it cuts.
The blue in Mr. Price’s eyes is bruised and the pupils have shrunk into capsizing ships. Purple grows beneath his lashes like swollen grapes, where his crows’ feet pick at sunspots. Exhaustion has seized the bridge you spent a year building between the two of you- made from iron, coffee runs and polite banter.
It’s seemingly been burned sometime between the elevator and his office.
“Good morning, Mr. Price.” You say. He stares.
Time takes a drag of its cigar and puts it out on your back while you wait for his reply.
“Morning.”
The answer to your unknown anxiety stamps itself to the slam of his door.
8 AM
He’s not in the office for your first delivery.
His absence is disturbing- abnormal. Even when he isn’t there he lingers- a man who frequently shadows the space and people around him. A wall of force.
You find that his room is similar. Swallows you, despite its minimalism. Mahogany flays the skin under your nose as you survey the small space.
Barren walls aside from a few framed accolades. Tobacco torn carpet. And a desk in the center of the room, framed by a small bookshelf and a single leather chair. Whiskey, neat.
“Excuse me.”
You flinch and spin around. Mr. Price has his hand on the door handle, paused as he glowers at you from the threshold. You smile, but it only seems to wrinkle what little patience he had left.
“Paperwork,” you clear your throat, nerves sparking down your spine “I…have some paperwork. ‘Was leaving it on your desk. I didn’t mean to intrude.”
He takes a long stride to the corner of his desk, hands folded behind his back. Sits in his leather chair with a huff and then holds his hand out expectantly. It takes you a second to understand, before you slowly lower the papers into his palm.
Usually, this is where he thanks you. Says he likes your hair “done like that”. Compliments the color of your shirt. It’s an arguably meaningless moment.
But not to you.
The way his voice purrs over your name, a small sentiment that brightens the dirtier, drawling parts of your day. John Price hand feeds you your own importance, and you hardly understand what you did to earn it.
But you don’t have to- the moment beckons content sleep anyway. Because someone- he- believes you did something good.
He says nothing to you today.
10:30 AM
Your knock on his door is timid at best.
“Come in.”
You poke your head through the crack. “I made some coffee…” He waits for you to make this worth his time, and both of you are skeptical that you’ll be able to, “I have an extra cup- black, how you like it. You seem tired today so I-“
“Just…leave it by the door.”
Your eyebrows draw. “…On the floor?”
He looks up at you from over his glasses. “Is there anything else to set it on?”
You look around to give your throat the opportunity to unclose. “No, sir.”
He looks back down. “Then yes. On the floor.”
You stand under the top of the door and watch tantrums manifest themselves around his torso. Small cracks in a meticulously built machine, where enflamed sores spit steam. Alloy lighthouse that searches for labor even when there is none.
Rusts when stagnant.
He does not look at you when he speaks again. “Today would be preferable.”
You’re already walking before your mind can stop you. Foot in front of the other to reach the corner of his desk, and the journey feels twice as long when you register the way he watches you. A fridged gloss over his iris- numbs an anger that squints when you place the cup next to his pen holder.
 He lets out a long, dry, sigh.
“I told you that you could-“
“One less trip for you…” You remember yourself when his eyebrows raise, “sir.”
Your words echo. The walls corner your shoulders. The air he exhales chokes you, and everything slows until it’s just the Atlantic of his eyes and the unshakeable sense that you are drowning in them.
He opens his mouth, but you leave before the words come.
1:00 PM
The seat in the breakout room next to yours is empty. He ate lunch in his office.
When you return to your desk, his mug is on its corner.
It’s empty.
5:25 PM
He calls you into his office this time.
You close the door with your back, hands folded in front of you.
He rubs the bridge of his nose when you walk in, evidently already annoyed. Takes his glasses off with a sigh, interlacing his fingers and rests his elbows on the desk. Greek statue still, with all the imitation of their Gods to match.
“I went through the reports.”
“About the covert?”
“What else,” he grits, “would I be talking about?”
You nod dumbly and stay with your back to the door.
“Do you w-“
“It’s missing pages.”
You swallow a rock. “What?”
“I said,” he stands, straightening his spine, “if you could listen the first time,” a frequent tactic you’ve seen him use on his subordinates- “It has,” but never you, “missing. Pages.”
He’s in front of you and he brings with him a particular quiet that triggers your fight or flight. The pause before an explosion, after a gun fire, or the sound of a casket closing. All of these buries you six feet under- still alive and restlessly terrified of living at the same time as his temper.
He pushes the paper into your chest, and when he removes his hands, he takes your breath with it.
“Fix it.”
5:28 PM
You fight tears at the printer.
When you’ve triple checked that all the pages are there, you return to his office.
You slide the report under the door.
It’s dark when you let your aching bones stand to leave.
Collecting papers, fixing your desk, shouldering your bag…a routine that feels uncharged without Mr. Price to talk with you. Funny, how much you miss his presence.
It’s hardly appropriate, but you pretend that it is.
The lights are off in his office, shades drawn. You didn’t see him leaving, but after your last interaction you hadn’t really been watching. You stare at the room, desperate for it to burst into flames, rot to the floor, melt into wax and metal and dread. Do something that isn’t absurdly empty.
None of those things happen.
So, you wave your white flag. Tomorrow, it’ll be better. You’ll be better.
Your day ends where it began- at the steel doors of the elevator. It looks frosted in the evening; the fluorescent lights above you casting a sick yellow hue over the China blue walls and grey carpet. It looks as stale as you feel.
It opens, and you let out a long sigh as you step in. And for a blissful moment, the day is over.
And then a hand slams between the closing doors.
They jut open, and reveal John Price standing at full height. He does not soften like he usually does when he sees you- in fact he goes ridged. It haunts you, how guiltless he looks.
“Good evening, sir.”
Your nicety falls on deaf ears. He hums and fishes out a lighter from his pocket, sticking a cigar between canines as he steps through the doors. Lights it as they close, and the room fogs.
Within seconds, you’re swelling in the familiarity of cigar corpse. Buried under the nickel smoke that clips to the heels of his boots and stagnates above the slope of his shoulders. Vaguely expensive, like it’s a luxury to be near him and his vices.
Your nose burns, a cruel itch that nudges your sinuses and overwhelms the place behind your eyes. Suffocating as Mr. Price and his cigar smolder beside you, watching the floor numbers decline with your tolerance.
Your peripheral renders embers- fizzles at his facial hair that rests over its barrel, and the fixed position of his jaw when he takes a drag. Calm blankets his silhouette, and you can see his attitude begin to repair itself.
It halts when you cough.
You don’t dare look at him when you feel a shift beside you. “Somethin’ the matter?”
You hold your breath, and when you exhale it’s shaky. “N-no si-“
“Speak up.”
“No sir.”
You cough again.
“Not used to these yet? For how long you’ve been workin’ f’me that’s pretty damn insulting.”
You’re blinking back tears, shifting in your heels. “I- it’s just because we’re in a-“
His hand is on your jaw, yanking it to look up at him.
The old bruise in his eyes is gone. In its place, blue charcoal ignites, licking at his pupil in a dilated, focused anger. Stikes quickly enough to paralyze you in his grip, stone as he squeezes the soft out of the base of your cheeks.
“Small space? Doesn’t feel good, f’your space to be invaded,” the cigar still sits between his teeth and breathes embers over the bridge of your nose, “does it?”
“No sir.” You can’t tell where he ends, or the cigar begins- all you know is that you’re burning in the subsequent ash that follows them both. Tears well up in the corners of your eyes as you become horrifically aware of how much he overwhelms you. How it’s always been this way- the kindle to his fire. A match to paper.
Just took him force feeding you secondhand smoke to see it. Or, rather, taste it.
“Been doin’ this t’me all fuckin’ day. Hoverin’ like a damn heli.”
“I’m sorry-“
He squeezes until your teeth mark the inside of your cheeks. “Can’tcha tell when a man needs his g’damn peace? When he’s fed up? What about today made’ya think I needed-“
The car convulses with the intensity of thunder. Mechanical earthquake sends you forward and into his chest, and you tense at the abrupt loss of gravity. You feel his back hit the wall, and the way he grunts as you follow close behind. Instinct moves his hand to cover the curve of your head, and you inhale into his shirt.
It’s quiet for ten long seconds. In that time, you realize the elevator isn’t moving.
Mr. Price speaks first. “You alright?”
“Yes.” You breathe.
You slowly part, and the light flickers over your head. Mr. Price curses.
“Not claustrophobic, are you?” You shake your head, and he runs a hand through his hair.
“Good.” He makes his way to the operating panel and clicks the emergency open. Theres a whine from somewhere in the front of the car, but nothing budges. He shakes his head and tries to pull the doors apart.
He grunts, but the effort is futile. He doesn’t quit, though.
“Mr. Price.” No response.
“Sir-“ He tries again.
“John Price.”
He turns to you, and for the first time today you see all of it. How his hand-built dam broke, and the surrounding bridges collapsed, and somehow and for some reason, the blame is on him. The blood in the water and the festered rage clogs up his senses until all clarity dies.
How when he softens, it’s the first time he’s seeing you.
You dig your water bottle out of your bag and hold it out to him. He takes it silently, and you press the fire department button.
You slip off your heels and set them next to your bag.
The closed door turns you into a gauche- softly painted in the flickering, orange lights. Theres a halo of static around your figure- as if the curves of you had been smudged. Your face is made up of vague features- shapes that follow its structure but feel slanted. A disorienting, surreal reflection of yourself.
You want to laugh at how fitting it is.
Next to it, is an equally detached painting of Mr. Price. The color of your shirt and the cream of his collect in the middle. It’s fuzzy, and you must squint to see it, but the tether is still there. If only, in the dull steal of an elevator door.  
Price is already looking at you when you glace in his direction. You lean against the side of the elevator wall. “What happened today?”
He lets out a sigh- like he knew you were going to ask. Props himself against the other wall and crosses his arms. In your peripheral, you see how the reflections are no longer on the door.
“A mission did not go as plan.”
You look at him as if to say that cannot possibly be all, and he drops his cigar and puts it out on the tile. “We lost two of our men.”
Your heart twists. “I’m so sorry.”
He nods solemnly, and you pinch your skirt.
“…was it the one I gave you today?”
He shakes his head, and you’re relieved. “No. I found out last night.”
You pause and begin to walk towards him. “Did you sleep?”
The question crosses a boundary, like your body is now. The invisible wall all employees and their bosses have. The absence of real empathy, loyalty without attachment, and the hard rule of never involving yourself in their outside.
The places beyond the office- his home, his habits, his thoughts. The places you so desperately want to be inside.
He watches you approach him, and his shoulders slouch. You’re in front of him now, the smoke still burning at your nose, but it fizzles from below your calf and travels up and between your legs. An awareness follows it- of just how large he is too you without the aid of your heels.
When you look at him, you’re cognitive of why you asked, why you stepped forward, and why you haven’t back away.
And how dangerous that is.
“What do you think?” The question is rhetorical, but your thumb comes to trace the dark space beneath his eyes anyway.
“Not a wink.” You whisper. His breath draws and comes out ragged. His eyes watch you carefully, and despite how hunted they make you feel, your other hand holds his shoulder. When you speak again, your question is genuine.
“Can I do anything to help you, sir?”
His kiss comes to you like an epiphany.
Evens out the grass in your yard that grows awkwardly. Dissolves the spots in your vision after you look at bright lights. The puzzle piece that fell under your desk. All the trifling anomalies that coexist with your ignorance. Orphaned calamities that, until now, it felt futile to repair.
But his mouth pulls it out of you. Biting your lower lip tipping your chin so your lips mold together and you can feel his breath- the thing that keeps him alive- burrowing itself into yours.
Put simply- he was the thing you didn’t know you needed until you had it.
His hands push your hips to the wall, and you inhale, lifting onto your toes and steading yourself by gripping his shoulders. He mutters something incoherent before running his tongue along your gums and you freeze.
He dips to your neck, and you stifle a moan, feeling his hands grab the back part of your thighs and pulling them forward to lift you up-
“Sir- wait-”
He looks at you- almost as angry as he had been about the missing report pages.
“For once,” his right hand comes back up to hold your chin, “let me do what I need to do.”
He doesn’t let an argument form before he slams his lips on yours again- this time it’s violent. Holding your face still so he can shove his tongue down your throat. Your mouth is his ashtray, swallowing his depravity, his rot, the injuries that kept him festering in a locked office. You widen your mouth to fit all of it, so when he groans your name, you swallow that, too.
His left hand relinquishes his grip on your thigh and slips it under your skirt. When you try to pull away, his other hand is there, holding your face still until he runs his index and middle over the wet patch on your underwear.
He smiles against your mouth. “Been wantin’ this, huh darl’?”
You gasp when his thumb presses against your clit through the cloth- “P-Pri-“
His hand falls away and you whine. Tuts, looking you in the eye. “Sir, sweet’eart. Say it.”
“Sir.” You breathe, rolling your hips forward to find fleeting relief against his limp fingers.
“Tha’s a girl.” Kisses behind your ears, before slipping his fingers past the lace to wander between your folds. You sigh, gipping his shoulders for balance, rocking your hips. His thumb returns to its small ministrations against your clit, and a curious finger slips into the sleeve of your cunt.
You groan. “S…sir the f-fire depart-“
He hushes you with a second finger. You yelp, and he takes your surprise as an opportunity to knock your planted foot out to let him stand between them. Shoves his fingers deeper, and you bend forward, moaning as you try your best to see straight.
“Tight lil thing, isn’t she,” his pumps become purposely cruel, and you’re resting your head against his shoulder, mouth agape with drool pooling on the white of his shirt, “have’ta warm her up, hm?”
You don’t know why you find yourself nodding. You’re long past an appropriate work relationship. Employee contracts don’t include riding your superior’s fingers in a stranded elevator.
But it’s been in the fine print, hasn’t it? In the lingering hands, careful eyes, the way you watched his mouth when he talked, and he let you. Even today, you weren’t upset with what he’d said and done on principle, but because it was done to you. It tore down the selfish, callow notion that you were removed from his cruelty- that you had and always would be an exception.
You think in some twisted way; this is him proving you right. The apology you’ll never hear said aloud.
He’s always been a man of action, anyway.
He adds a third, and you’re choking back a sob, shivering like you aren’t burning. Searing where he touches you, while the rest of him crowds everywhere else. Entirely aware that he’s stretching the sensitive tendons of your body and the bones that hold you together so he can watch himself put you back together. Molding you, for him.
Like you haven’t done so already.
“C’mon now, ‘can feel you getting close, sweet’eart,” he purrs in your ear, “give it to me.”
And he’s right. It’s building, the slow and pulsing anticipation your body cannot save itself from- pinpricks of lightning before the thunder. Shuddering breaths as you become desperate- echoed in the curls of your fingers and toes and the mantra you repeat against his neck,
“Please, please, please, ple,”
Your orgasm (you think for the moments that everything whites out) makes you a witch. Burns you at the stake, flays you alive, the mob of your own consciousness jeering from somewhere and nowhere. The limbo where the thunder finally rolls in, but too quickly disappears when he removes his soiled fingers.
“Stay with me,” the tap on your cheek pulls you back to the crammed elevator and the arms that hold you still, “open.”
You do, unlatching chattering teeth and flattening your tongue until his fingers are bed there. He doesn’t move his eyes from you.
“Ain’t that a sight…”
You close your lips and taste the beginning of the end. The torn tapestry yarn of your professionalism, your impulses, your desires. Congregated on the digits that have signed your reports, touched the small of your back, and have now been deep inside your cunt.
He grunts and pulls his hand away with a quiet pop, and steps back to put his hands on his belt.
Your mind is only now beginning to catch up with reality. “Pr-Sir I don’t…“
He draws his cock from the waistband of his pants, and you’re quiet. It holds all the same weight he does, and the hair. Thick swirls that brush over heavy flesh, where it blossoms in an angry red at the tip. You swallow thickly, back pressed to the wall and cunt aching for something your mind isn’t ready for.
“I’m not-“
“You’re prepped enough, darl’,” he steps forwards, running his tip between your folds you wince, “Be a good girl for me, hm? ‘S gonna feel,” he groans when he pushes in further, knocking your lungs up to your throat, “Christ…good.”
He wraps his palms on the underbelly of your thighs and lifts, pressing you against the wall of the elevator. You breathe in the infant relief, before he bottoms out.
You sob, gripping onto his dress shirt as your walls stretch. It’s all lost to the current of his own curses and ragged breaths into your neck. “Fuck, still tight huh?”
You try to reply but it’s lost to the waves that cascade under your ribs with every thrust you’re forced to take. Only able to focus on how full you are, the rest of your body hollowed out in comparison. Light, feverish shivers unfurl up the base of your spine, and you wrap your legs around his hips. He doesn’t mind your silence.
He starts with slow thrusts, letting you bounce on his cock in a rhythm that makes you squirm. When you put up a fight, he grabs your hips and pulls them against his, and you lean your head against the wall at the new depth that should be impossible.
His hand finds your clit and you’re quick to fold back into his shoulder, letting out another ugly moan.
“Tha’s it, knew you needed this,” his hips snap against your ass and your grip beneath his shoulder blades, “I see how you look at me,” grabs your face and tips his head to look down at you, “like you are right now.”
You sigh when he plunges deeper. “Y-you wha…wanted it too..?”
He adjusts your hips and answers with a hard jerk of his own. “’Course I did. Knew you’d be…hah..” leans his head into your neck, where he bites and you gasp, “made f’me.”
You’re flooded with a strange sense of ease.
Nothing about this is normal, but it’s warranted. Signing yourself to him with leather sticking to the underside of your thighs, shaking his hand and feeling a life richer than your own hold you with gentleness. How he’d look at you in the first week mornings and smile, so you adjusted comfortably. How he still did months into the job.
You recall an evening when he walked you to your car. You asked him when he’d be going home. He responded, “late,” and you had said “not too much later, yeah?” He had looked at you like you’d be the one waiting at home for him.
Then said, “For you, I won’t.”
You’ve been wanting it since then.
The collision shatters glass and other fragile things you’re made of. Lifted by his arms so you cannot collect yourself as he spears into you, until you are unsure where you begin, and he ends.
Didn’t hear yourself begin to speak, but you catch the butt-end of your incoherency when he steps forward and puts your back flat against the wall. “-ir so good…uh..hah good please, gonna- gonna cum’ah.”
He doesn’t relent, chasing your orgasm like he’s starving. “I know, I know sweet’eart, doin’ so well…” cages you between his elbows, “Show me how good I make you feel.”
You cling to his back like a lifeline. Drowning in him again, but now it’s beyond his eyes. Its his chest, his arms, his cock and every other part of him that makes you desperate enough to fuck him in an elevator.
Equally terrified and thrilled by his reciprocation. A follower returning to their alter, where their food has been eaten and wine swallowed and you simultaneously realize your god is real, and he knows you.
That he’ll eat you too, given the chance.
Your second orgasm is a cigar. Burns fast once lit and lingers until the smoke finds your lungs and the clenches your walls. Where the tobacco is you, your boss, this elevator, and the sprout that grew until its nicotine leaves bridged them together.  
Where Price can fit his mouth back over yours and groan, spilling himself into you and bucking until his spend kisses your cervix, and you see stars.
The come down is slow. He doesn’t move for awhile and you are grateful- entirely sure that the moment he steps away you’ll collapse to the floor. Feeling his chest inhale against your own, and kisses you like he didn’t just fuck you raw against granite that you will never look at the same again.
He peels himself from you at a snail’s pace, and when he pulls out, takes a finger and pushes his spend back into your swollen cunt. When you shift, his places a burly hand above your pelvis and holds you against the wall. Rises, and swipes the hair out of you face.
“Still with me?”
You can only nod against the hills of his palm. He smiles for the first time that day.
“Let’s get cleaned up before the firemen get us out.”
Tomorrow, Price will smile the whole day. He will get you a coffee from the break room, and you will ask how he knows the amount of cream and sugar you like. He will remind you he’s an observer. He’ll notice you did your hair differently. He will say he likes it.
At 5, he will call you into his office again. But this time, it’s not about missing pages of a report, but the missing undergarment from under your skirt.
He’ll then ask you to lift it, so he can properly see how soaking wet your cunt is.
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ecc-poetry ¡ 2 years ago
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SMASH THE MUSEUM, I NEED OXYGEN Elisa Chavez
exhibit 1.  My dad texts:  IS CRIME REALLY UP IN SEATTLE?  I send him a picture of the garden at Cal Anderson's heart. Black Lives Memorial. NO, I say. It felt like proof to me. Diversifying  in the face of scarcity. Transubstantiating the earth into wafers. 
exhibit 2. The oregon grape, qʷəbqʷəbčac  (qweb-qweb-chadth),  mahonia aquifolium, is "beloved by hummingbirds and bees."  I bring coffee to tired throats,  I bring post-it notes and pens; call me pollinator. Black and gold, buzzing corona.  Feathered shoulders. Busy, busy. 
exhibit 3.  Commenting Seattle says, Get rid of that weed patch, then the road mural on Pine. It's eating up the space we need for cars. Spare me your tree museum.  Your noblesse oblige, your death printed in triplicate. This feels like the right time to say  that I personally don't get the Mona Lisa. Kids' art I understand: color anarchy,  eyes wilding like coals in construction paper. Words I understand. I always stop for messages on telephone poles and building corners: "Wanted: the squirrel who stole my bagel"; "when I helped build this place  a worker fell down the elevator shaft and died." The Venus de Milo, I understand: armless, beautiful. Found in a farmer's field, where his habits of sowing and upturning resurrected the goddess from the earth. This is to say that not all beauty will make itself obvious to you.
exhibit 4. I watch my best friend pick blackberries straight from the bush by I-5. She swallows, no fear. I'm too scared to eat without permission, but I've thought of smoke and the tart juice ever since.  I read blackberries grow especially well  on the sites of old house fires.  I hope if I have to, I'll do the same.
exhibit 5. In the garden, we hors d'oeuvre  like it's a birthday party. We sing, we town hall, we fucking juggle. A man falls; like bees, we shift to give him space.  Like bees, the gardeners tend. Someone says, "I have narcan" and they get him back to blooming. Straggling, maybe. Pretty, maybe not. But alive.
exhibit 6. Ms. Lyles, this one's for you. For your children, who I pray will learn the story of a city that did better. Grief is a seed. It waits through winter, sprouts between the ribs like sidewalk cracks and puts reminders in your lungs. It's okay to breathe your grief. It's okay to speak it. Our grief is a story committed to dirt. We just hope something good will grow.
Hey friends, if you're in the Seattle area, please consider lending your voice to saving the Black Lives Memorial Garden! There is so much you can do that would be helpful to preserving this vital space: filling out a community survey, donating, asking local orgs and businesses you frequent to sign the letter of support. And more, probably!
Please share this poem/post/the linked resources with Seattle buddies, and remember to support your local gardeners. Okay I luh you buh-bye!
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rabbitcruiser ¡ 4 months ago
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Louis M. Martini Winery, St. Helena (No. 2)
In the 1930s Martini purchased a mountainside wine ranch in Sonoma County and named it Monte Rosso for its red soil. At the time high-elevation vineyards were unusual, but the site he bought had been a winery since the 1880s, and Martini had purchased fruit from the ranch for years. For a time the wines from these vineyards—elevation 700 feet (210 m) to 1,300 feet (400 m)—were marketed with "Mountain" or "California Mountain" in their name, but after many other wineries started using the "Mountain" descriptor, Martini's were changed to "Monte Rosso", and wines from those vineyards are still sold under that name.
In 1946 the patriarch, Louis M. Martini, was succeeded by his son, Louis P. Martini, a UC Berkeley graduate with a degree in food science. He also studied enology at UC Davis. He introduced innovations like cold rooms and wind machines, and worked with the Napa Technical Group to improve Napa winemaking and grape growing practices. His son Mike Martini joined the family business in 1974. His innovations included increased maceration time (leaving the wine in contact with the skins) and eliminating redwood tanks.
The Martini business model was to produce large quantities of many different wines, mostly red, and sell them at modest prices. This was a disadvantage by the 1980s and 1990s, when white wine was more popular and pricier wines were selling well. The fourth generation of the Martini family was not interested in working in the winery. As a result, the entire operation was sold in 2002 to Modesto-based E & J Gallo Winery, which was looking for an entry into Napa. Keeping the name Louis M. Martini Winery, Gallo increased production dramatically and trimmed the wine portfolio from its numerous varieties to focus on Zinfandel and Cabernet Sauvignon.
Source: Wikipedia
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mountrainiernps ¡ 1 year ago
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Leafy mitrewort (Mitella Caulescens) is a very easy wildflower to overlook. Small and green, it disappears against the backdrop of other spring plants growing in the low elevation forests of Mount Rainier. However, once you know to look for it, its unique petals, tipped with feathery, antenna-like lobes, are unmistakable. Flowers grow along a short stalk, 6-12 in. tall, and bloom from the top down as the season progresses. It has maple-shaped leaves and is the only mitrewort species with a few leaves along the stem.
In addition to leafy mitrewort, other forest wildflowers are starting to bloom including Cascade Oregon-grape, kinnikinnick, and salmonberry. Subalpine meadows are still covered in snow. What wildflowers are you observing in the park?
For updates on what’s blooming where visit https://go.nps.gov/RainierWildflower
Unfamiliar with Mount Rainier’s wildflower species? Check out the wildflower guide at https://go.nps.gov/RainierWildflowerGuide
NPS Photo of leafy mitrewort blooming along the Trail of the Shadows in Longmire, 5/30/24.
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fandomtherapy44 ¡ 2 years ago
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castiel x reader
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Summary: This story is from the perspective of Y/n Winchester. The sister Of Sam and Dean. We will be starting from season four since sadly we did not get Misha Collins as Castiel throughout the whole series. It will start off as a friendship, but it will grow more as the series goes on. I will be skipping some episodes even though they are great episodes they do not push the story forward. I am so excited to get to write this since they are not many Castiel X reader stories out there. Okay without further due Love War & Grace enjoy the Story.
Paring: Castiel X Reader
Word count: 4,088
Warnings: Some language, Typical Supernatural violence, Spoilers for season four of Supernatural
I got the divider from
Firefly Graphics
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Chapter 10: It’s A Terrible Life
POV: Y/n
My alarm goes off at 6:00 and I get up happily. I go to my kitchen and start to make my breakfast of eggs, bacon, and grapes. I turn on my favorite song. 
Oh!
Ohhhh, yeeeh
I used to think maybe you loved me now baby I'm sure
And I just can't wait till the day when you knock on my door
Now everytime I go for the mailbox, gotta hold myself down
'Cause I just can't wait till you write me you're coming around
I'm dancing around the kitchen and having so much that I don’t notice the time. “Crap I'm going to be late.”
I'm walking on sunshine, wooah
I'm walking on sunshine, woooah
I'm walking on sunshine, woooah
And don't it feel good!
I walk in the coffee shop to get my boss's order with a smile on my face. “Hey brain, how's it going?” ” It’s going good Y/n, the regular” “You know it!” I said back to him I got the coffee, and I went on my way to my job.
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I enter the building quickly, being five minutes away from being late. I walk calmly over to Mr. Alder’s office and knock on his door. “Come in” I hear from the other side and enter the room. “Good morning Mr. Alder, here is your black coffee with two sugars and two creamers.” I said placing the coffee down. “Aww thanks sweetheart you're the best secretary in the world.” For some reason a small chill went up my spine when he called me sweetheart. “No problem, it is my job, do you need anything else?” “Nah all you need to do is sit there and be pretty I'll call you if I do though.” With that comment I walked back to my desk. 
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It was lunchtime and I went to the break room to make a sandwich. My work bestie Lyndsey comes up to me. “Ugg, I swear if Mr. Carson makes me do his basic paperwork one more time, I might commit murder.” “Ha ha right.” “Oh, you have nothing to complain about, you have the top secretary spot in the company, and you've only been here for a month.” “I don’t know, all I have to do is just sit there. I get pretty bored to be honest.” “Oh, to be bored, I envy thee. Did you see Mr. Smith this morning so hot right?” She said, biting her lip. “Uh I don’t know.”
“Girl, are you blind whatever, did you have any more dreams about Mr. Businessman.” “You're just going to make fun of me.” “No, totally not.” I sighed looking into my coffee. “This time I was in a carpark, and I was hurt, and I hugged him, and he hugged back.” “Ohh did it go beyond hugging.” She said, raising her eyebrows up and down. “No no it’s nothing like that, it feels like a friendship.” “Ugg boring.” “You said you wouldn't make fun.” “I'm not, it's just my opinion.” Sometimes Lindsey could be a bitch that’s why she’s my work bestie.
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I ran towards the elevator and yelled out for whoever was in there to hold it. “Thanks.” “No problem.” Mr. Smith and I think the other guy’s name was Sam. The three of us were just standing listening to the elevator music before Sam asked us a question. “Do I know you two?” Sam asked us. “Um I don’t think so, Sorry.” I responded. “I don't think so.” “I'm sorry, guys, you just look really familiar.” “Save it for the health club, pal.” With that Mr. Smith walked out of the elevator quickly. “Have a good night, Sam.” I told him. “You too?” “Y/n” “Right Y/n goodnight.” 
I got home and got ready for bed and thought about Sam’s question. He did kind of look familiar even though I hadn’t really met him before. Oh well with that I went off to sleep. 
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  The next morning I woke up feeling groggy and my head was filled with my dreams from the night before and I think I saw Mr.Smith and I think Sam in them. Which is really weird because I barley known them and what we were doing was hunting monsters so like what the hell?! 
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I walked down to Lynsey’s office because she was not in the break room for our daily coffee talk. When I go into her space, she is working hard which she never does. “Lyndsey? Lyn? Why don’t you take a break huh?” I go to touch her shoulder, but she does not take that well. “Don’t touch me Y/n! I don’t have time to sit around all day like you!” I was surprised because yeah, we weren't besties 24/7 but we wouldn't seriously insult each other. “Look Lyn I don’t know what’s wrong but whatever it is I can help you.” “No, you can’t! Just leave me alone. I have to work work…” She said drifting off not looking back at me.
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I go to heat up my lunch, but the microwave is busted. “Oh, come on.” I went to the tech floor knowing that was the closest microwave to me. The elevator dings and I walk into a huge crowd of people around the break room, the reason being that a body was being rolled out. I look around and see Sam and Dean again. 
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Now what the hell is happening. As I sit down, I get a call. “Hello, this Mr. Alders-” “This is Mr. Smith I need you in my office now.” He hangs up and I put the phone down. I walk to his office, and I walk in, and Sam is in here too. “Am I in trouble?” I said because so far this is weird. “No no you're not. Just sit down.” Mr. Smith gestured to the chair, and I did. “Ok so this is going sound weird, but do you believe in ghosts?” Mr. Smith asked, and I was expecting a smile after that, but one didn't come. “He he, I'm sorry ghosts, is there a camera somewhere?” “No, unfortunately not Y/n he’s being serious.” Sam said, looking at me.
“Ghosts? What the Hell are you talking about?” “Okay, listen. What if these suicides aren't suicides? I mean, what if they're something not natural?” “So, what, ghosts are real? And they're responsible for all the dead bodies around here? Is that what you're telling me?” “That’s what Sam and I have concluded, yeah.” “Based on what? Delusion.” I said not believing what I was hearing. “No, Instinct.” “Instinct I think I have the same one.” Now remembering the dreams. “Really?” They both said at the same time.
“Yeah, I've been having these dreams with you guys in it, and we were killing monsters also I saw a businessman.” “Businessman didn’t see him but yes to the ghosts and the monsters.” Sam said. “So, you're telling me that your guy's dreams are special visions and you're some kind of psychics’?” “No. I mean, that would be nuts. I'm just saying something weird is definitely going on around here, right? So, I've been digging around a little.”
“Yeah, I agree with him.” I backed Sam up. Sam pulled at some papers. “I think I found a connection between the two guys.” He explained. “You broke into their email accounts?” “Nice Sam” I compilated him. “Thanks Y/n, I used some skills that I happen to have to satisfy my curiosity.” “So, it turns out Ian and Paul both got this same email telling them to report to HR, room fourteen forty-four.” “HR's on seven.” “Exactly.” “Should we go check this out?” “Like right now?” “No. No, it's getting late. You're right.” “I am dying to check this out right now.” “Right?” “Me too” I added, and we went on our way to room fourteen four-four.
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We walk closer to the room, and we hear a man screaming. Sam kicked the door in, and we rushed in, and the man was under a shelf. We go to try to lift it off as we do. I look behind an old man standing there, and he flings Dean back. He walked to Sam with a sparky hand, and I had the thought to grab a wrench and hit him and he disappeared with that. Dean walks over and we lift the shelf off the man. “How'd you know how to do that?” They asked me. “I have no idea.”
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Dean’s apartment was thankfully close. “Holy crap, Guys.” Dean said, referring to what just happened to us. “Yeah. I could use a beer.” Sam said. “Yeah, put me down for one too.” “Oh, sorry, Guys. I'm on the Cleanse. I got rid of all the carbs in the house.” “Hey. How the hell did you know that ghosts are scared of wrenches?” They ask me. “Crazy, right? And nice job kicking that door too. That was very Jet Li. What are you, like a black belt or something?” “No. I have no clue how I did that. It's like...we've done this before.” “What do you mean, before? Like Shirley MacLaine before?” “No. I—I just can't shake this feeling like I—like I don't belong here. You know? Like I should do something more than sit in a cubicle.” “I think most people who work in a cubicle feel that same way.” 
“No. Well, look, it's more than that. Like, I don't like my job. I don't like this town. I don't like my clothes. I don't like my own last name. I don't know how else to explain it, except that...it feels like I should be doing something else. There's just something in my blood. Like I was destined for something different. What about you? You ever feel that way?” “I don't believe in destiny. I do believe in dealing with what's right in front of us, though.” “What about you Y/n.”Dean asked me. “I feel the same as I make my own future.” “All right, so, what do we do now?” Sam asked, which was a good question cause what the hell do you do in this situation? “We do what I do best, Sammy, N/n. Research.” “Okay. Did you just call me Sammy?” “And me N/n?” “Did I?” “I think you did. Yeah. Don't.” “Yeah, please don’t” “Sorry.” He goes to sit at his laptop.
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“Oh, jackpot.” “What you got?” Sam and I walked over to Dean. “I just found the best site ever. Real, actual ghost hunters.” “Oh wow, cool!” I said sitting next to Dean. “These guys are genius. Check it out.” “Instructional videos.” Sam pointed out. Dean hits play “We know why you're watching.” These two guys were in lab coats in front of a table. “You've got a problem.” “A ghost problem.” “A ghost-related problem. A ghost—it's like a ghost-adjacent pr—it's like a problem that's—and the ghost is—” “Whatever. You've come to the right place. The only decent place, really, because the Ghostfacers know how to solve it.” “Period.” “Watch and learn.” “See, the first step in any supernatural fight:” “Figure out what you're up against.” Both of them said together. 
I went onto the computer and looked up the company’s history. There was a picture of an old man next to the article. “That's him. That's the ghost.” Dean pointed out over my shoulder. “P. T. Sandover. Died 1916. Devoted his life to his work. No wife, no kids.
The article text visible next to the picture reads "Office 1444 was considered to be the center of the company's operations, with Sandover himself overseeing all details of any construction project the company undertook. / Considered to be a difficult person to work for, P.T. Sandover had an exceptionally high standard of quality, often marching onto construction sites and halting all work until he personally inspected each aspect of the structure. Aiming for perfection is perhaps why the Sandover legacy is so impressive, dominating the industry with the scale and scope of its projects.” “Used to say he was the company, and his very blood pumped through the building.” Sam read. “Wow, okay. So slight workaholic. Maybe he's still here, you know, watching over the company, even killing for it.” Dean theorized.
“Plus, turns out this isn't the first time people started killing themselves in the building. 1929.” “Yeah, but lots of guys jumped off lots of high rises that year.” “How many companies had seventeen suicides?” I added in. “Phew. Okay, so P. T. Sandover, protector of the company. His ghost wakes up and becomes active during times of grave economic distress.” “Well, I mean, the worst time we've seen since the Great Depression—” “Is now. Yeah, now sucks. My portfolio's in the sewer. I don't even wanna talk about it.” “So Sandover's helping the bottom line—” “By zapping some model employees.” 
“Yeah. I mean, Ian and Paul. It was like he turned them into different people.” “Perfect worker bees, exactly. So devoted to the company that they would commit hara-kiri if they failed it.” “Oh my gosh Lyndsey was acting like that. Now we abustley have to do this.” “One more interesting fact. The building wasn't always that high. Used to be fourteen floors. And the room where the ghost attacked, fourteen forty-four? Once upon a time, that was the old man's office.” Of course it was.
We went back to the Ghostbusters videos. “Once you've got that thing in your sights—” “You kill it.” Good to know. “Using special ghost-hunting weapons.” “First, salt. It's like acid to ghosts.” “Burny acid.” “Not LSD.” “No. It's a bad trip for ghosts. Next up, iron.” “That's why the wrench worked.” I concluded. “Pure power in your hand.” “Dissipates ghosts instantly.” “Next little trick. We learned this from those useless douchebags—” “That we hate.” I wonder who pissed them off so much. “The Winchesters. Well, except for the sister who was nice to us, she was also hot.” “Yeah hot.” He looked off like he was thinking about this woman. “Uhh right back to the ghosts. Gun.” “Shotgun shell. Pack it up with fresh rock salt.” “Very effective.” “Very effective.” “Winchesters still suck ass, though. But the sister.” “Affirmative. Suckage major. But the sister.” 
We pack two duffels of iron pokers and salt. “Where do we even get a gun?” Dean questioned. “Gun store?” “Isn't there like some kind of waiting period or something?” “I think so.” “Well, how in the hell—” “I don't know. Seems pretty impossible, honestly.” “Right.” I mean who can just get guns on a whim.
Back to the video. “The aforementioned super-annoying Winchester douchenozzles but the sister also taught us this one other thing. You have to burn the remains.” “Okay, this next part gets a little gross. Sometimes you might have to dig up the body. Sorry.” Eww “It's illegal in some states.” “All states.” “Possibly all states.” I look up where our body is buried. “Sandover was cremated.” “What? So what do we do now?” “Now, if the deceased has been cremated—” “Don't panic.” “Don't panic.” “Just gotta look for some other remains.” “A hair in a locket, maybe. Fingernails. Baby teeth.” “Milk teeth.” “Genetic material. You know what we're talking about.” “Go find it.” “Godspeed.”
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I am terrified to go back but Lynsey is under this ghost’s spell I guess, and she needs help so here I am back in this cursed building. We entered the elevator. “Set your cell phone to walkie-talkie in case we get separated.” Dean commented. We go to search in the old man’s office Sam, and I are searching the desk when we get found out by the security officer. “What the hell are you doing here?” He asks us.”Uhh, a new cleaning service.” I responded back trying to not get us arrested. “Yeah right. Come with me.” He grabs the both of us. “Man, listen. Look. It's okay. We- we work here.” Sam tried to explain. “Whatever. Tell it to the cops.” He drags us to the elevator.
We awkwardly stand there when there is a cold spot when the elevator absurdly stops. Sam and I look at each other knowing what was going on. The guard goes to use his emergency key to open the door. “Well, come on.” Something makes an ominous sound. Sam and I are thinking the same thing Hell to the no. “Last time this happened, it took them two hours to get here.”
“Let’s just wait here I think I might have some uno cards on me.” They both look at me like your crazy girl. The guard Shimes through the door and he turns around to us. “Seriously, we’ll wait.” “Look, I don't have the rest of my life.” As he was saying the doors slam shut oh his body. And we get sprayed in blood. “Hey. You guys, okay?” Dean asked through the phone. “We’ll call you back.” 
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We regroup at the main lobby. “Whoa. That's a lot of blood.” “Yeah, we know” “Right. So, uh, in there.” Dean gestured to the display of P.T. gloves. “P. T. Sandover's gloves.” “Yeah, how much you wanna bet there's a little smidge of DNA in there? You know, like a fingernail clipping or a hair or two? Something.” “Sweat.” I added in. “So, you ready?” Sam asks us. “I have no idea.” “Me neither.” “Me too.” The boys hit the glass, but Mr. Old man shows up. All three of us hit him with the iron pickers. “Oh. Nice.” He reappears and he flings the boys back. “Dean! Sam!” P.T. is about spark them. I scramble to get the lighter. “Sorry I'm forcing you into retirement.” I said as I lit up the gloves. And he lights up like a Christmas tree and vanishes. "That was amazing.” “Right? Right?”
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Dean hands me the first kit and I'm patching up Sam. “Wow you're really good at Y/n.” “Yeah, I don’t know, I've always been good at it, thanks.” “Man, I gotta tell you, I've never had so much fun in my life.” Dean said sitting next to us. “I feel the same and I thought the bachelor was the craziest thing in my life.” “Was a hell of a workout too, wasn't it?” “Yeah, you can say that again.” “We should keep doing this.” Sam says very seriously. “I know.” Dean replied in a joking way when I was thinking about his words. “I mean it. There gotta be other ghosts out there. We could help a lot of people.” Sam went on with this. “Right, we'd be like the Ghostfacers.”
“No, really. I mean, for real.” “What? Like, quit our jobs and hit the road?” “Exactly.” “How would we live?” “You gotta be kidding me. How would we get by? With stolen credit cards? Huh? Eating diner food drenched in saturated fats? Sharing a crap motel room every night?” “That's all just details. What about you Y/n?” Sam asked me. “Uhh I don’t know Sam, this is a good job for me.” “Do you even like your Job I mean all you do is get Mr. Alder coffee! All right. Um. Confession. Remember those dreams I told you about with the ghosts? I was fighting them. With you guys. We were these, like, hunters, and we were friends. More like brothers and sister, really. I mean, what if that's who we really are? I mean, you saw us back there, working together. The ghost was scrambling people's brains. What if it scrambled ours?”
“Sam, that's a little insane.” “Is it? Think about it for just one second. What if we think this is our life, but it's not?” “Hey, man, the ghost is dead and we're still standing. I mean, I'm sorry, but—” Dean started to say. “Look, all I know is this isn't who we're supposed to be.” Sam stood his ground. “No. I'm Dean Smith, okay? Director of Sales and Marketing. I went to Stanford. My father's name is Bob, my mother's name is Ellen, and my sister's name is Jo.” And when he said that it felt so wrong. “When was the last time you talked to them? To any of them? And you Y/n?” “I don’t really have any family to talk to.” “See that’s what I'm talking about, cause I only moved here cause I just broke up with my fiancée, Madison. But I called her number, and I got a damn animal hospital.” I try to hold my laugh back at that line.
“Okay. What are you saying? Are you trying to say that my family isn't real? Huh? That we've been injected with fake memories? Come on.” Dean was getting irritated at this point. “All I know is, I got this feeling in my gut. And I know—I know that deep down, you gotta be feeling it too. We're supposed to be something else. You're not just some corporate douchebag and you Y/n are not just some pretty secretary that gets coffee. This isn't you Guys. I know you.” Dean answered. “Know me? You don't know me, pal. You should go.” I leave with Sam and stop him. “Look Sam, the girl you're describing sounds incredible but that’s just not me.”
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The next morning, I was walking to Mr. Alder’s office with his coffee, and I was thinking about what Sam said last night. “Knock knock Come in.” I heard and I entered. “Here’s… your coffee.” I set it down and went to leave but he stopped me. “Mrs. F/l/n I would like to talk about something, sit down please.” So, I do. “Look I think you're an amazing employee and simply put I want you higher on the food chain.” I was a little bit shocked.
“You want me in a company position? Wow I'm flattered but are you sure?” “Yes, I am so sure that this would be your pay raise.” He writes down a number and slides it to me. My eyes widen like saucers. “That’s a whole lot more than now to keep me here.” “Well, you are worth it now you would have to work for it properly more than others because you are starting from a low level but in like fifteen years maybe ten it you could be it.” I look down at the number and think about it. “Now Mr. Alder I really appreciate it and I am totally thankful, but I will be giving in my notice.” Now he looks shocked.
“Please tell me this is a joke Y/n.” “No Mr. Alder I just realized that sitting in a desk for the rest of my life and getting coffee from other people is not for me. It's hard to explain. Um. It's just that this—this is—it's just—it's not who I'm supposed to be.” Mr. Alder smiles at that. “Y/n, Y/n, Y/n you and your brother are a lot alike.” “My brother? What are you talking about?” He walks over to me and touches my forehead and it was like the air had shifted and everything came flooding back.
“What the fuck? Am I wearing heels god my feet hurt.” Mr. Alder laughs at that. “You- did I—did I just get touched by—you're an angel, aren't you?” He nods. “I'm Zachariah.” “Fantastic. You want me to throw you a parade.” “I'm hardly a simple angel, Y/N. I'm Castiel's superior. Believe me, I had no interest in popping down here into one of these smelly things” “But after the unfortunate situation with Uriel, I felt it necessary to pay a visit. Get my ducks in a row.” “” Unfortunate situation” he almost killed me.”
“Well, you're not so you should be grateful.” “What the hell does not that even mean?” “It means that you're alive and hunting” “Is that what this little passion project of yours is for?” “Exactly you are a Winchester, hunting is in your blood, and you will help your brother stop the apocalypse.” “I am not just a helper.” “Of course, not but you will always be by your brother’s side, right?” “Yes but-” “perfect then you be on your merry way to your codependent brothers.” I start to walk out but I stop. “Zachariah angel or not I will stab you in the face if you ever call me sweetheart again.” And with that I slam the door behind me.
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Hey oh, my gosh we have gotten to chapter ten like wow I just wanted to say thank you for reading and liking when I started, I just did for me and I'm so happy that others have liked this as much as I have! Also did anyone peak the song that Y/n was playing in the beginning. It was a little easter egg for a future character that I am so excited to get to. That Animal hospital joke of Madison gets me every time the angels went off with that one. If you like the originals, I started a Klaus x reader so yeah hope I see you over there see you next time!
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meilas ¡ 2 years ago
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Phantom of the Opera Wine List
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Your wine sommeliers: 
@meilas: Concept, Graphics, Layout, Project Manager, Hadley, Barbara the Mannequin
@gwalchmedi: Franc D’Ambrosio, Norm Lewis, Drew Sarich, Peter Joback, Bronson Norris Murphy, Hugh Panaro, Michael Crawford, Jonathan Roxmouth, Jeremy Stolle, Barbara the Mannequin, Ethan Freeman, Peter Karrie, Dmitry Ermak, Earl Carpenter
inspired by @mxbuster: Uwe Kroger
inspired by @petittneko: Saulo Vasconcelos, Thiago Arancam
@devilswalkingstick: Cooper and triptychs
@when-it-rains-it-snows: Ben Lewis
DocTy: Alexander Goebel
Tina: Gina Beck
@from-aldebaran: Derrick Davis and proof-reader
@therosenpants: proof-reader and taste-tester
@box5intern: Christopher Carl
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This wine list could not have turned out so well without the loving dedication of everyone involved. Thank you everyone for putting up with this silly project for so long!
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D’Ambrosio Vintage Vintage 1962, best run 1998 Other nicknames: Cabernet Franc; Franc D’Amn that’s good!
Slither yourself down somewhere comfortable and loosen a few buttons while you steal a taste, slowly swirling your tongue around a luscious mouthful of this full-bodied, ambrosial red. Every note stays with you while you are distracted by its elegant looks, get reeled in by a silvery touch, and feel it gliding along your throat. As you swallow, a slow leisurely piquancy reveals a muscular body and delivers a prominent, long, full finish. A total god of a wine. Keeps giving satisfaction long after you have embraced your last glassful.
Bottling notes: The reddest of red wines in the bluest of containers, and the perfect precursor to pants-less pastimes. Comes in our most prominent bottle.
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Saulo Vasconcelos, vintage 1999
An epic year for Brazilian wines, this timeless choice has performed in many a fine vintage bottle. A few tastings will assure you that this wine leaves you anything but Miserable, being a bit of a beast in disguise. Delightfully playful, sensuously hands-on with its flavour, and encasing you in its warm, chocolate tones, you’ll find yourself helplessly succumbing to its embrace. A proper, stern Daddy of a wine, this is one for those who like their types mature and commanding. De Nada!
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CrÊmant NormLew Château Tallahassee
A first for a Crémant from this region of Florida, you’ll be getting a plethora of orchard fruits here with delightful baritone notes! Up there with the finest of champagnes, just enjoy how this Crémant gives such a unique expression of its appellation.
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Peter JĂśback
This fiery Scandinavian grape is a notoriously difficult one to grow well, but prolific once it takes hold, which makes this lovely drop of sleek Swedish red even more impressive! The acidity has a true, tenor register, a light note that is just right for pairings with other Swedish delicacies, I'd say. Very quaffable indeed.
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Drew Sarich
With a very young feel to this Veltliner grape, it actually delivers a surprise that is a decade ahead of itself. This wine has a long taste on the tongue, sitting there like a kitten purring in your lap. Delightfully complex, this is a New York socialite of a vintage with a phantasm of aromatic perfume on it which is absolutely phenomenal. It’s fascinating how the acidity is so high that it somewhat devilishly disguises the wine’s natural sweetness.
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Dreamclimber from the House of Derrick Davis Two pressings, 2016-2017 and 2019-2020
An astonishingly underappreciated vintage, Dreamclimber will make you abandon your defenses from the very first sip. A potent mix of smooth deep notes of dark oak ranging upward to a soaring sunshiney sweetness, the positive energy in every bottle offers sweet intoxication and will fundamentally alter your outlook on life. The dynamic and passionate essence of Dreamclimber elevates everything around it, so if you need to restage a meal, add this bold and muscular yet soft and sensual wine to your table. Want to stay one step ahead of the crowd? Catch a Broadway-bound dream of a wine and you can say you were among the first to realize its genuine and soul-stirring star power. Dreamclimber has the uplifting soulfulness to take you and your guests to where you long to be!
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Bronson Norris Murphy Variety: Babygrapes
The very youngest of our vintages, this wine has brought out excitingly different comments from our patrons. Respected Voices talk knowledgeably either about its Wheel of Flavours, or enjoy a genuine Laugh about how this rush of taste almost knocks them over; still others amongst the cognoscenti talk about its delightfully Icie youthfulness and endearing features, or how a glassful taken at bedtime would counter a Snowy cold evening. One Purist anonymously chuckled that a grape as vigorous as this could be put in more than one setting and still retain its delightful, child-like boyish charms. Two stunningly dressed patrons, in Rose and Cora(l), admitted they’d been given a taste of this wine secretly, a sort of cameo appearance before its launch, and had felt the vibes of the overt rosehip and petal flavours long before it had become popular. The pair’s general consensus was that this vintage was young enough to Make It on the scene, although the coquettish undertones about vinicultural size and handspan were elusively enticing. The Vast Glassy Orangery was agog with gossip about some Baguette-wielding youth (and their noteworthy tailoring) having hugely overdosed on the tasting previously, almost knocking their socks off with its pale beauty and fragrant scents. Their partner in crime, a clear Persephone of a beauty, was wearing delicious couture from the House of ChristineGrrl, and the effect of this duo almost matched the effect of the wine’s heady aroma on the delightfully younger crowd. Suffice to say the vintage was a resounding success and its aura of vinicultural adolescence bursting into manhood held everyone in its attractive grasp. One worth keeping.
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Panaro Prosecco
The elevation that every note in this charismatic, versatile Prosecco provides ensures that the bubbles in this Panaro Prosecco are so much lighter than in the flatter and usually insipid Chagny Champagnes to which they are unfairly compared. For me, there is no contest; crystal clear delivery, in a bottle with movie star good looks, this vintage delivers a deliciously singing bouquet, with beautifully crisp notes of apple to finish.
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Michael Crawford, vintage 1986
Oh yes, this most venerable of English sparkling wines has a well-rounded palate with a hint of the most delicate, sweetest of orchard fruits giving way to deeper notes of Parisian brioche, with a hint of French kisses. French, I hear you ask - but did you know that English winemakers use the same traditional method that the French use to produce Champagne?
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Jonathan Roxmouth, vintage b.1987, run 2011-2012, 2019
Not an easy Chenin Blanc grape variety to like on first encounter, this South African powerhouse has a drawn-out tingle which stays on your tongue, and wanders high into your head. The yearning feel to break out in full fruit mode is hidden beneath the complex mix of earthy, graveyard depths. You may feel the emotional and smoky hint of stalk, but a flash of strength beneath its velvet glove packs a punch like no other. Rox your Sox.
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The St(r)olle
The smoothest of our wines, this will simultaneously quench your thirst and leave you begging for more. In parts of America, this vintage used to be obscure, yet when you taste it, you’ll wonder why.  This wine takes a confident, sassy stroll across your palate, its taste coiling a lasso around you as rock solid as Henry Cavill’s abs. Achingly rich and smooth, sporting lush, sweet toned, deep throated berry notes tinged with vanilla, it has suave yet elemental flavors pushing out from a deep, muscular centre. One not to be trifled with.
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Barbara the Mannequin, vintage 1988
Wooden and oaky, this wine is perfect for poorly-thought-out proposals. We’ve all known at least one weird, dorky guy who somehow engineered a vision of a hot chick.  This wine is that chick.  Barbara is also known for its thin, acid nature, bolstered with a dressing that feels domineering, but sadly is only a foreshadowing of a disappointingly textured mouthfeel, with little middle, and an abrupt finish.
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Hadley Fraser, vintage: 2 weeks old
A light dessert wine that sometimes forgets how it is supposed to taste. It’s not its fault. Really. We just didn’t give it enough time before bottling it.
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Alexander Goebel Der Goebel Veltliner - Vintage 1988
Often overlooked and replaced by the Freeman, its direct descendant, the Goebel is the true original flavour of Vienna's best vineyards, planted and cultivated by the same London vintners that originated the Crawford. Since 1988 the deep rich tones of Dunkelheit in this wine have melted the heart and palate of real connoisseurs around the globe, who also appreciate the high Skan-da-lĂśs and Maskenball notes that follow the first taste. Best served in the Original Cast environment (especially accompanied with a side dish of Nistler and Pfeifer) to highlight its most recognizable qualities, it is also recommended in its "boot" version where its taste is sublimated by visual experience to heighten each sensation.
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Peter Karrie
Vintage with a distinctive voice. A commanding flavour, this is a wine both dangerous and elegant, one a chivalrous soul would offer to another, with a heart-rending tone, and an unparalleled physicality and wealth of detail. This grape makes the wine totally in a class of its own, with a wandering taste yet, by some rare and strange alchemy, with a touch of the rock band too. A bit of The Wolf in this bottle.
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Ermak Syrah
Our only Slavic wine to date. Once phans sneak a taste of Ermak, they become avid for this imposing Russian grape. Its notes are powerful and bright, dominated by scents of ripe rich raspberry, and a touch of smoke that either comes from barrels toasted over a hickory flame or all that sexy heat. The Eastern European earthy touch, common in ‘Old World’ Syrah, is always present on the back of the palate, but bright succulent flavours mingle with those of hazelnut and chocolate. The tannins swirl like Rusalki across your taste buds, as smooth and alluring as Ermak himself.
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G. Beck, vintage 2010
A silken, dry, red English wine with a strong note of blackcurrant. There’s a hint of youthfulness in its complexities. A wine so lovely it will bring tears to your eyes, as the taste conjures up the image of wistfully walking through a graveyard while crying about your father. Perfect after a day of tired feet from wearing heels and heavy gala dresses for too long, and with dark chocolate… or perhaps even Marmite on toast, if you’re feeling adventurous? It has also been blessed by a certain soprano’s tuxedo cat, because why not.
Tested and reviewed by: Tina, who was definitely in a country where the legal age of drinking is 17 at the time. She immediately bought nearly the entire stock and gave it a 6 out of 5 stars rating.
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Thiago Arancam, vintage 1982
A total Batata Bonita, this wine from a little-known grape has been successfully transplanted from 13,000 feet up at Insosso Opera’s vineyard to the less stratospheric Sem Sal Palco Musical’s estate. You might call it a vinho on a budget mais fácil. With an early unmasking of a distinct brasiliaro flavour, this is one wine which ought to know how to show its range of notes, but sometimes just pales into insignificance.
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Earl Carpenter
A strong bold grape should produce an overbearing wine. Instead, what we have here is viniculture’s version of a smooth Movie Star. Nuanced, sensual and gentle on the palate, it has a buttery feel, although on occasion this vintage’s notes are somewhat uncertain. Building up towards a taste explosion, too much enthusiastic sampling will find you too far gone to stop at the final reveal.
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BEN BEN BEN Shiraz 2011
BEN BEN BEN is most curious; the 2011 is one of just two Phantom varietals that are easily acquired, yet rarely is it recommended. Best suited to the mad friends of Dionysus, this Australian Shiraz is a magic show as run by the white tigers:  absolutely beautiful, but whose idea was this? It cannot possibly end well… No amount of familiarity with the Brilliant Original will prepare the palate for this Absolute Beast. Expect to be dragged from delicately smoky baritone lows to peppery near-tenor highs; you may feel a little wide-eyed as you study the legs and ponder what that cheekbone is doing to the mouthfeel. Swooning is fine, this glass will pick you up from the floor, it is broad shouldered and surprisingly sweet.
A word to the wise: don't finish the bottle. Pour out that last twenty minutes in memory of the rare 2018 vintage, BEN! KELLY! BEN! KELLY!, of which no complete bottles exist.
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Uwe Kroger, vintage 1964, 2006
Ye little gods, here was a tone with an unsettling quirky tongue to it, cutting right through the sweet fruit; an acidity, quite at odds with its vinicultural opulence. This lick of minerality which is just a fingertip’s distance away, is a bit old hat. Been done to death. Somewhat late to the party and overdressed too. It is easier to define what it is not – that is, it is not richness, nor fleshiness, nor texture, it is just there, this odd mineral flavour bringing neither a sense of purpose nor a sense of depth, fashionably unpopular, kookier and saltier than a bag of KP nuts, changeable without letting you know where it is going. And in any case, minerals, rocks and stones have no flavour at all. In Kresowy Slavic folklore, the “flavour” of stones is caused by an invisible substance called petrichor, which, according to my Russian-Greek-English thesaurus (what? It’s the only one I’ve got! Give me a break!) is “constructed from petra (πέτρα), meaning ‘stone’, and īchōr (ἰχώρ), the fluid that flows in the veins of the gods of Russian mythology.”
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Gary Mauer
Are you married to your job? Just the wine for you! With a hint of sexy Dionysian wildness in its overtones, this sexy, vastly diverting and deliciously deep flavoured wine hits up hard on the brain. A sparkling good character with a touch of flair on its first taste, under all that joie de vivre, subsequent contact may make you come unhinged in the final analysis. Touted by wine snobs as 100% clean and wholesome in taste, those of us in the know greedily drink up the wicked taste and flavour, both of which provide a powerhouse duo, giving an amazing almost Elizabethan scent to the final mouthful. Having dashing good looks, this wine has a lovely tenor to its middle notes. While fairly standard from a non-specialist standpoint, it is sprinkled with touches of genius throughout; the distant whispered scent of a bridal bouquet of roses: so romantic. All in all, a great wine with a hugely masculine edge.
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Ethan Freeman
A Viennese delight, this unexpected RosĂŠ has distinct European notes, yet a brash American aroma. Moreover, it has a singing finish on the palate. A demanding Jekyll and Hyde of a wine, the duality of the fresh flavour of OberhaĂźsen strawberries combined with the descending chill of the faint ghost of basement scents have resulted in a complex type of legerdemain that can be almost felt, not just tasted. Best experienced on hot summer nights.
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Cooper, vintage 2014
Far too many notes for our taste, and most of them about this wine.  Just read this review left by a customer!  (We would like to remind everyone that we card any customers who appear to be younger than 21.) “A delightful wine, positively wonderful, just the perfect stubbly lad. Anytime is Coopertime. Also sweet.”
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Christopher Carl
Looks like a meme but also 100% legit like a stock image of STOIC MAN (TM) sold by Hasbro. (Wine bottle and fine horses sold separately.)
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colinwilson11 ¡ 9 months ago
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United States Agrivoltaics : Rise Of Agrivoltaics In The American Farming
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As climate change threatens global food supplies, agrivoltaic systems are gaining popularity in the United States as a way for farmers to boost solar energy production while continuing to harvest crops beneath solar panels. Also known as "agrophotovoltaics", agrivoltaic installations combine agriculture and solar power generation on the same land. By installing solar panels elevated high enough to allow farm equipment and livestock access to the ground below, farmers can generate solar power and grow crops or graze livestock simultaneously on the same parcel of land.
Benefits For Farmers And Food Security
Agrivoltaic systems provide multiple benefits for farmers and the environment. In addition to generating a steady additional revenue stream from solar electricity sales, studies have found that certain crops grown beneath solar panels have higher yields compared to directly exposed to sunlight. United States Agrivoltaics The partial shading from solar panels protects some crops from excessive heat and regulates soil moisture, improving overall productivity. For livestock grazing, the shade from panels protects animals from heat stress which has been shown to increase their health, growth rates and milk production. These dual-use installations are helping increase overall land productivity at a time when climate pressures are exacerbating food security risks.
Potential For Expanded Deployment 
Currently, there are a few agrivoltaic pilot projects operating across the United States but their adoption remains limited compared to conventional ground-mounted solar farms. However, as the agricultural benefits become clearer and technology improves to maximize both energy and food outputs,  experts expect agrivoltaics to play a much larger role in the country's clean energy transition. Some estimates suggest agrivoltaic systems could potentially generate hundreds of gigawatts of solar power on available farmland if deployed at sufficient scale. States with vast agricultural areas like California, the Midwest and Plains regions are well positioned to lead the way.
Project Developers Tout Multiple Cropping Options
Early agrivoltaic projects in the United States Agrivoltaics  have tested growing a variety of crops beneath solar panels including grapes, olives, berries and vegetables. Developers say that with proper panel elevation and optimization of lighting conditions, row crops like lettuce, onions and carrots can also thrive. Livestock operations are integrating panels for grazing dairy cattle and lamb. Ongoing research is exploring additional dual-use combinations suited for different soil types and microclimates across farming regions. Producers are also experimenting with staggered panel installation to allow continued mechanical harvesting of commodity row crops like corn and alfalfa. As more multi-year yield data becomes available, farmers' confidence in agrivoltaics is increasing.
Tailoring Technology To Farming Needs 
A challenge for wider deployment remains ensuring agrivoltaic systems are economically viable propositions for farmers and easy to incorporate into their existing operations. US developers are working to refine mounting configurations, panel elevations and integrated smart technologies to maximize both solar energy generation and agricultural outputs specific to local growing conditions and crop varieties. There is also ongoing innovation related to access for machinery and irrigation systems beneath panels. Additional research partnerships involving farmers, land grant universities and the national labs are vital to further adapt agrivoltaic technologies and successfully demonstrate scalable business models tailored for different commodity crop types.
Overcoming Permitting And Policy Hurdles 
In addition to technology challenges, policy and permitting issues have slowed the scaling of agrivoltaic projects. Some state and local regulations do not yet account for dual-use of farmland and view agrivoltaics as competing land uses rather than complementary. Renewable energy incentives also often only apply to standalone solar farms versus agrivoltaic systems.  advocates are working with policymakers to establish legal recognition and support for agrivoltaics through measures like revised zoning definitions, streamlined permitting procedures and tailored financial incentive programs. Widespread adoption will require acknowledgement from governing bodies that these installations can provide compatible and sustainable multi-functional land use.
Outlook
As concerns intensify about long-term global food security in the face of interconnected economic, environmental and geopolitical pressures, United States Agrivoltaics  are gaining recognition as a means to boost domestic farming resiliency. By sustainably increasing total land productivity, these dual-use systems could make a meaningful contribution to both energy and agriculture production if scaling challenges are addressed. With ongoing technological enhancements, successful demonstration projects, revised policies and expanding cooperative efforts, the outlook is positive for agrivoltaics to emerge as an important complement to America's clean energy transition and agricultural landscape in the coming decade.
Get more insights on this topic: https://www.ukwebwire.com/united-states-agrivoltaics-emerging-clean-energy-technology-for-farmers/
Author Bio
Vaagisha brings over three years of expertise as a content editor in the market research domain. Originally a creative writer, she discovered her passion for editing, combining her flair for writing with a meticulous eye for detail. Her ability to craft and refine compelling content makes her an invaluable asset in delivering polished and engaging write-ups. (LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/vaagisha-singh-8080b91)
*Note: 1. Source: Coherent Market Insights, Public sources, Desk research 2. We have leveraged AI tools to mine information and compile it
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eva-knits12 ¡ 1 year ago
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Grocery Shopping with Steve Rogers
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Trigger warning: PTSD, grocery shopping, crowds, anxiety, abusive marriage (not you and Steve), fluff.
Summary: Steve goes grocery shopping for the first time since getting out of the ice. You help him navigate the modern supermarket.
Steve wakes up on this warm Monday morning, He turns on his coffee maker, and then heads to the bedroom. He grabs his jeans and a sweater. He brushes his teeth, and then showers.
Today, he has to go grocery shopping. Steve has no milk, no eggs, no coffee after this pot, no creamer, and has only two slices of bread. Steve prepares himself some oatmeal, and toasts the last two slices of bread. When the toast pops, he slathers the slices with butter and some grape jelly. When his oatmeal is ready, he puts on some blueberries and bananas and eats his breakfast.
He then makes his list. You're still sleeping, so it will be a while before you wake up. Steve doesn't like going to the grocery store, he remembered when he used to get his groceries delivered. He remembers when his mother would go to the corner market to get things such as coffee, tea, sugar, flour, soap, and cans of soup. He remembers when his mother would go to the butcher and get things such as beef, pork, and chicken when the food budget would allow for such things.
You wake up, brush your teeth, wash your face, and then shower. You make instant pancakes and some instant sausage in the microwave, and put butter and syrup on the pancakes. You eat your breakfast, and drink your coffee. Your wearing a black skirt and a red blouse. You also need to do your grocery shopping, but that's going to have to wait until after work.
You meet Steve at the elevators and greet each other with a kiss. You and Steve have only been dating for a few months, and
"Good morning, doll," Steve says.
"Good morning, Captain Handsome," you say.
You two talk about your plans for the day, and since you both need to go grocery shopping, you two would make a date out of it. You two were holding hands while you were walking and talking on your way to the meeting room.
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You and Steve go to the meeting to discuss the latest mission. You make the coffee, both regular and decaf, and you get the donuts and various other breakfast pastries. Steve is helping you set up the meeting room, and Nick Fury and Phil Coulson walk in,
Tony was discussing the latest mission, in which several hostages were taken. What was supposed to be two days max took four days because they were trying to free the hostages while dealing with Hydra agents. Of course, every mission was followed by a meeting, and Tony and Nick and Coulson needed to know why this mission, even short, took longer than expected.
After that, you and Steve went to lunch in the cafeteria, and talked while you were on your way to the cafeteria. Steve had his arm around your shoulders and kissed your forehead. You were holding onto his arm.
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You two talk and eat your lunch. Steve goes back to his apartment, and fixes himself a cup of coffee and reads his book. You go back to Tony, and finish up your work. You finish making the copies and type of a summary of the meeting to e-mail to Tony, Nick, and Coulson. You leave when you're done.
When you arrive home, you call Steve and make your grocery list.
"Well, Captain Handsome, I can't wait to go grocery shopping," you say.
"I really don't know what I'm doing, where I'm going. The modern supermarket confuses me," says Steve.
"Look, when we go, there will be less people. Before, we'll get some Chinese. It's my ritual before I go grocery shopping," you say.
Steve and you talk some more. He's been curious about Chinese food, and has yet to try modern Chinese food. When he was growing up, there was only a few things on the menu to choose from.
Steve comes over, and greets you with a kiss. You two talk, and you're wearing your black jeans with your Docs, and a sweater.
"What's Wor Su Gai?" asks Steve when you two arrive at the Chinese restaurant and looks at the menu.
"It's Almond Boneless Chicken," you explain.
"The sweet and sour chicken sounds interesting," says Steve.
You two place your order, and you both talk while you're both waiting for you meal. You two share off of each others plates, and you both steal a kiss while you both are eating. You go to pay, but Steve insists on paying.
Steve hails a taxi, and you guys go to the grocery store. You both start on the pharmacy end of the store, and Steve gets some toothpaste, a toothbrush, some deodorant, and some soap. You get your favorite Cover Girl mascara, some body wash, some tampons, and some chap stick. Steve is amazed at the choices that are out there.
You then get some flavored creamer, and Steve is not only amazed by the brands, he's amazed by the flavors.
"Steve, it's just creamer. It's not going to bite you," you say.
'Doll, where is the half and half?" asks Steve.
"Try the dairy case, it's usually in there," you say.
Steve grabs the half and half, and looks at the price.
"I don't remember it being THAT much," Steve says.
"Steve, prices have gone way up thanks to several decades of inflation," you say.
You hear a loud noise, and start to feel the walls closing in. You immediately feel your heart rate rise. You start to feel shortness of breath, and you feel dizzy. Steve asks if your okay, and he immediately sees that your not. Steve guides you to the ground, and tells you that you're okay.
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"Can you tell me five things you see?" asks Steve. You name five things you see.
"Can you name four things that you can touch?" asks Steve. You name four things that you can touch.
"Can you name three things that you can hear?" asks Steve. You name three things that you can hear.
"Can you name two things that you can smell?" asks Steve. You name the two things that you can smell.
"Can you name one thing you can taste?" asks Steve. You name the one thing that you can taste.
A small crowd has gathered, and Steve's PTSD is triggered by that. He just wants you to be okay. Steve doesn't really like crowds, and hearing the noise of a man yelling at his wife also triggered his PTSD. Any loud noise triggered it, and Steve was trying to keep himself together for you.
Steve instinctively ran towards the noise. It's a man who is screaming at his wife for not putting an item on the list, and then misspelling a word on the list. He's screaming and belittling her, and you're having a flashback from the time you were in an abusive relationship. That triggered your PTSD.
You're still sitting on the ground, hugging your knees, and trying to self-soothe. Tears are stinging your eyes, and you are now shaking and you don't even realize that your body is now having a reaction. With shaky hands, you try to reach for your purse to take a Valium, only you can't seem to unzip your purse.
"Oh, doll. This isn't about you. This is about him," says Steve, who has his arms wrapped around you, and pulls you close to him. Steve helps you unzip your purse, and gives you the pill bottle. You take the pill, and Steve let's you take a sip of water from the small water bottle that you keep in your purse.
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Steve helps you up when you feel like you can. You grasp onto your cart, and standing feels strange right now. Steve holds you until the feeling passes.
"Steve, I'm sorry. I....I....I....," you say.
"Shh, doll. This is about him," says Steve.
You realized that it was this wasn't your abusive ex. After the Avengers confronted your ex, they helped get him jail. It took a while just to go out to do simple tasks. At first, you could barely make it out the front door without having an anxiety attack. Steve gave you time. Tony arranged for you to see a therapist. Sam was right, talking about what happened was the first step towards healing.
Steve was just there. He wouldn't let you go anywhere without him. Tony was making sure that you stuck to a normal routine at work. Natasha and Wanda and Pepper often had a girls night with you, where you guys would end it with a spa night and a sleepover. Everybody did their part in order to make you feel some sense of normalcy.
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After, you and Steve head over to the produce and fruit section. You guys get the basics, and then it's off to the bakery section. You want to get some bread, and Steve got some cupcakes. Steve was amazed at the selection of cupcakes. There were only two flavors when he was growing up-chocolate and vanilla-but today, there's red velvet, coconut, mint chocolate, strawberry, lemon, key lime, Boston cream, s'mores, orange vanilla, pineapple, matcha, even mixed berry.
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Next up is the bread aisle, and Steve is confused by all the breads available. His mother often made bread from scratch every day because sliced bread wasn't available until he turned 10. Even so, it was still cheaper to make bread from scratch, because sliced bread was expensive then. Steve was amazed at how cheap sliced bread was and the variety of sliced bread available. There was white bread, whole wheat, whole grain, bread with oatmeal on top, cinnamon raisin bread, hearty grain, Hawaiian bread, egg bread, potato bread, Italian bread, pumpernickel bread, rye bread, bread without the crusts, pita bread, and even pretzel bread.
You get some whole wheat and some white, and Steve gets two packages of white bread. You then move onto the meat section, and Steve is amazed. He gets some packaged bacon and packaged sausage, hamburgers, hot dogs, and some lunch meat. You get some meatballs, some ground beef and some ground turkey, some lunchmeat, and some hot dogs.
You then move on to the soup aisle, and you get several cans of soup. You get some tomato, some chicken noodle, some chicken tortilla, and even some lentil soup. Steve is looking for the Campbell's condensed version, which is still available. But, when he sees your carts with the Progesso soup, he asks what it is.
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"Doll, what's that?" asks Steve.
"It's soup, Steve. You just open the can, pour it in a pot, and then let it simmer until it's hot. The water is already included, so it saves you a step," you say.
"How is this possible? And why does it cost this much?" says Steve.
"Its decades of inflation," you say. "Add competition into the mix, and that's what you get, companies competing for prime shelf space," you say.
"For decades, it was Campbell's. Now, Progresso has upped the canned soup game, there was competition. Add in gluten-free soups, soups made with organic ingredients, and soups that are low in sodium and soups that offer healthier options, that increases the competition for shelf space," you say.
Next up is the pasta aisle, and you buy some penne, some campanelle pasta, some spaghetti, and some macaroni. Steve is amazed that pasta is still cheap.
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Steve also gets some rice, and he's amazed that rice can now come in individual sizes. You explain that you don't have to make a lot of it, when you just want a little of it. It's easier, and saves a bunch of time and clean up.
Next up is the baking aisle. Steve is amazed that there are boxed mixes of cakes, brownies, cookies, and even muffins. You explain that the mixes are just dry ingredients that have been mixed and measured for you, and you just add in the wet ingredients. You also explain that you only need one bowl to make it, and you just need to preheat the oven, pop it in, and let it bake. You still made your cookies and cakes from scratch.
Next up is the cereal aisle, and Steve gets some oatmeal. He's amazed at the selection of flavors, and that you don't have to buy a huge thing of it. You just add warm milk or boiling water, and Steve remembers when that's all him and his mom had to eat at times.
Steve goes to the coffee aisle, and gets his favorite brand of coffee. You get some, and he's amazed at the kinds of coffees that are available, he's also amazed that it's already ground. You explain that it's easier, and that this saves space, and saves time. There is still whole bean coffee available, but very few people own a coffee grinder nowadays. Most own a pot, or a Keurig. Steve is confused.
You explain that a Keurig is an individual coffee maker, but you need to buy the pods of coffee.
"Pods?" asks Steve.
"Yes, pods. It's easier, but they're expensive. Not everyone owns a Keurig. I own a $20 coffee maker, and I prefer it," you say.
Steve looks at you in amazement.
"Wait, you own a regular old coffee maker?" asks Steve. Steve owns one, too.
"Yes, it's just cheaper," you say.
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You go to the cookie aisle, and get the store brand of Oreo's. Steve is confused at the prices, and you explain that the store brand tastes no different than the name brand. You and Steve go to the chip aisle, and he's amazed by the selection and the flavors. Steve had chips as a rare treat, but now it's an every day food. You explain that they're cheap, and it's a a cheap appetizer at parties. Chips are convenient when you have a sandwich, a hot dog, or a hamburger, you explain. Plus, there's low sodium, salt and vinegar, barbecue, sour cream and onion, sour cream and cheddar, kettle chips, ruffled chips, even tortilla chips. Steve has curious about Mexican food, and has always wanted to try tortilla chips.
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"Chips?! We only had regular," Steve says.
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Next up is the frozen foods, and you get some ice cream. Steve is amazed at the all of the flavor selections that isn't chocolate, vanilla, strawberry, and even mint chocolate chip.
"Wow, ice cream is expensive," says Steve.
"It really isn't when you factor in individual servings. Plus, competition between companies. The store brand has some really good flavors, and factor in lactose free, ice cream made from coconut milk and oat milk, almond milk, sugar-free ice cream, and even brands such as Graeter's and Haagan-Dazs, and Ben and Jerry's, ice cream makers are competing for space in the frozen food section. It's not about the product, it's about the brand," you say. Ice cream was a rare treat for Steve.
Next up is the frozen dinners, followed by the frozen pizza. Steve is amazed by all of these culinary revolutions. You explain that you can either make the frozen dinners in the microwave or in the oven. Most will just have microwave instructions, and there those such as Stouffer's or Banquet that will have oven instructions. You explain that frozen dinners became a thing when he was still frozen in the ice.
He looks at the pizza. He's confused by the pizza. You explain that frozen pizza is cheap, and that there are several brands. Each brand has improved upon quality.
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You and Steve finish. You have everything in your carts. The cashier is scanning the purchase, and the bagger is bagging the groceries. He loads everything back in your cart, and you call for Tony. One of Tony's driver's arrives, and waits for you in the parking lot, in the line where they have cars waiting to pick up passengers, and shoppers getting into their taxis.
You wait for Steve. Steve is amazed that the cashier is scanning his groceries, and not entering them in by hand. The cashier explains that this way is much quicker, and the only things that get entered in by hand are items that are weighable. He might have to enter in a discount by hand at times, but that's rare.
The bagger bags Steve's groceries, and he's amazed that everything is placed in plastic bags. The bagger says that he'll still have a job in a year, it's just that everyone will now have to purchase reusable bags because it's a way to help the environment. Steve is amazed because he explains that the corner grocery store always used paper bags when he was growing up.
Steve is finally done, and Steve and you load your groceries into Tony's car. Tony's driver, Happy, gladly takes you both back to Stark Tower, and gets the available security guards to help you both take your groceries back to your apartments.
Happy also explains that you can arrange for a grocery delivery.
"Wait, we can have our groceries delivered?" asks Steve.
"Yeah, Tony has it available for all of his employees. I had to use it a few weeks ago when I had a migraine, and it was grocery day. You just put in for delivery on the store's site, and they'll take it from there," you explain. Steve remembers when his mom used to get their groceries delivered, and when Steve was in his teens, him and Bucky worked as delivery boys for the local grocery store.
You and Steve kiss, say your goodbyes, and you and Steve go back to your apartments to unpack your groceries. Steve then calls you to say good night, and you can't wait for tomorrow.
Shopping with Steve was surprisingly easy.
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thefinewinecompany ¡ 2 years ago
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The Prosecco Wine Guide (Drink Better!)
When it comes to sparkling wines, Prosecco has gained tremendous popularity in recent years. Its light, refreshing taste, and affordability make it a favorite choice for celebrations and casual gatherings alike. The Fine Wine Company Ltd, understands the allure of Prosecco and strives to provide our customers with the best sparkling wine options available. In this Prosecco wine guide, we will explore the world of Prosecco, including its origins, types, serving suggestions, and more. So, let's raise a glass and delve into the wonderful world of Prosecco!
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I. The Origins of Prosecco
A. The Prosecco Region
Prosecco is a sparkling wine that originates from the picturesque region of Veneto in northeast Italy. Nestled between the Adriatic Sea and the Dolomite Mountains, this region provides the perfect climate and terroir for growing the Glera grape, which is the primary grape variety used in Prosecco production.
B. Prosecco's History
Prosecco has a rich history that dates back centuries. It was first mentioned in writings from the late 16th century, but its popularity soared in the 20th century when it became an affordable alternative to Champagne. The introduction of the Charmat method, a fermentation process that enhances the wine's effervescence, further propelled Prosecco's reputation.
II. Types of Prosecco
A. Prosecco Spumante
The most common type of Prosecco is Prosecco Spumante. It is a fully sparkling wine with vibrant bubbles that dance on your palate. This type of Prosecco is versatile and pairs well with a variety of dishes, making it an excellent choice for celebrations and special occasions.
B. Prosecco Frizzante
Prosecco Frizzante is a semi-sparkling wine with a softer effervescence compared to Prosecco Spumante. It offers a gentle fizz and a lighter mouthfeel, making it an ideal choice for casual get-togethers and everyday enjoyment.
C. Prosecco RosĂŠ
Prosecco RosĂŠ is a newer member of the Prosecco family. It blends the traditional Glera grape with a small percentage of Pinot Noir, resulting in a beautiful blush-colored wine. Prosecco RosĂŠ offers a delicate balance of fruity aromas and crisp acidity, making it a delightful choice for those seeking a touch of elegance.
III. Serving and Pairing Suggestions
A. Serving Temperature
To fully appreciate the flavors and effervescence of Prosecco, it is essential to serve it at the right temperature. Ideally, Prosecco should be served chilled between 7 to 9 degrees Celsius (45 to 48 degrees Fahrenheit). This temperature range ensures that the wine retains its freshness without becoming overly cold.
B. Food Pairings
Prosecco's versatility extends to food pairings as well. Its bright acidity and gentle bubbles make it an excellent match for a variety of dishes. Prosecco pairs exceptionally well with seafood, light salads, soft cheeses, and fresh fruits. It can also be enjoyed on its own as an aperitif, setting the mood for a delightful dining experience.
IV. The Fine Wine Company Ltd - Your Source for Premium Prosecco
At The Fine Wine Company Ltd, we take pride in offering our customers the finest selection of Prosecco wines. Our team of experts carefully curates a collection of premium wines, including the best sparkling wines and sparkling rosĂŠs. Whether you are looking to celebrate a special occasion or simply enjoy a glass of bubbly, our Prosecco offerings will delight your taste buds and elevate your experience.
ConclusionProsecco, with its effervescence and charm, has become a beloved choice for wine enthusiasts around the world. The Fine Wine Company Ltd invites you to explore the world of Prosecco and discover the perfect bottle to enhance your celebrations and everyday moments. From Prosecco Spumante to Prosecco RosĂŠ, there is a sparkling wine to suit every taste and occasion. So, indulge in the magic of Prosecco and savor the moments that matter. Cheers!
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honourablejester ¡ 1 year ago
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Okay, I know nothing about Hozier, so I’ve no idea if this is something he’d do, but that pair of lines:
“You treat your mouth as if it’s Heaven’s gate, the rest of you like you’re the TSA.”
Is that a direct reference to the Heaven’s Gate cult? The one that believed you had to give up all vestiges of human life, sex, food, etc, to live on pure sunlight, in order to elevate your consciousness to a new state of being and enable yourself to leave the planet? The one that committed mass suicide in 1997?
Because, um. That does change the tone a bit, yeah.
The TSA too. Because, yes, initially it scans just as gate guardians, a security organisation to protect the ‘gateway to heaven’ that is the partner’s mouth. Their body is a temple, and that temple is guarded to prevent the wrong things from getting in. But, well. The TSA was formed as a direct response to 9.11. So there’s definitely an implication of fanatical self-protection in there too, the aggressive refusal to admit dangerous elements, the fear of allowing attack.
Combined, if it is a direct reference to Heaven’s Gate, then the imagery here is very much of a very regimented individual who is pursuing an inhuman, self-destructive purity, at least partly out of fear of the world outside their boundaries. Not a pursuit of happiness, but an attempt to escape and stave off attack, to be good enough and pure enough to escape the world and be taken somewhere better.
“You keep telling me to live right, to go to bed before the daylight. But then you wake up for the sunrise, you know you don’t gotta pretend.”
“I aim low, I aim true, and the ground is where I go. I work late where I’m free from the phone, and the job gets done. But you worry some, I know, but who wants to live forever babe? You treat your mouth as if it’s heaven’s gate, the rest of you like you’re the TSA. I wish I could go along, babe don’t get me wrong. You know you’re bright as the morning, as soft as the rain, pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape. If you can sit in a barrel, maybe I’ll wait.”
If it is a Heaven’s Gate reference, a suicide cult, then ‘I aim low, I aim true, and the ground is where I go’ is possibly a bit a refutation of the ‘heaven’ promised if they live right. The ground is good enough, and death is real, not just a step towards promised heaven. The ground is where we go. Who wants to live forever, babe? And “If you can sit in a barrel, maybe I’ll wait”, could just be, yeah, if you grow up a bit, maybe I’ll wait until then, but in this context, a suicide cult, it could also be: if you survive, maybe I’ll wait.
“You keep telling me to live right […] you know you don’t gotta pretend.” “I wish I could go along, babe, don’t get me wrong.”
There is some implication that the narrator thinks it’s a cult. He thinks they’re pretending to their purity out of fear, and he doesn’t want to be dragged in. Partly because he’s already embraced some of the ‘threats’ they see even in tiny things, like coffee and whiskey and bad sleep cycles, and it hasn’t had the consequences they seem to be afraid of.
“I work late where I’m free from the phone, and the job gets done. But you worry some”.
The job gets done. But they worry anyway.
Yeah. I think I would read this song, not necessarily as a straight exaltation of a bad lifestyle, whiskey and coffee and shitty sleep, but more as just a warning of going too far in the other direction, a life of purity based on fear and worry about other people’s rules. Rules that he thinks the partner does know are false. ‘You don’t gotta pretend’, vs ‘I aim low, I aim true’. Plus ‘you treat your mouth as if it’s heaven’s gate’. Heaven’s Gate was also built on a false prophecy, and their belief system had to change several times when elements of that prophecy were proven untrue. The rules change because the rules aren’t real. They’re externally imposed, and they build off your fear. So relax a little bit, embrace some of the small evils, live as a human some instead of attempting to be a higher life form, and see if it’s really everything you were afraid of.
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i found the tenth circle of hell: it's where your fave blows up on tiktok
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radobjectdreamland ¡ 3 days ago
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Fruit Wine Market Overview: Examining Global Demand and Shifting Consumer Alcohol Preferences
The global Fruit Wine Market is gaining significant traction as consumers across demographics shift towards more diverse, flavorful, and health-conscious alcoholic beverages. From berry-rich blends to tropical fruit infusions, the appeal of fruit wines is expanding beyond niche markets and entering the mainstream alcohol segment, thanks to evolving lifestyle choices and growing awareness of low-alcohol alternatives.
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Growing Popularity Driven by Health-Conscious Consumers
Health and wellness trends are significantly influencing beverage choices across global markets. Consumers, especially millennials and Gen Z, are actively seeking products that align with their preferences for moderation, natural ingredients, and functional benefits. Fruit wines, often perceived as more natural and lower in alcohol than traditional grape wines or spirits, are ideally positioned to benefit from this shift.
In addition, the increased interest in plant-based and organic diets has boosted the appeal of fruit wines that use clean-label, non-GMO fruits. These wines often contain antioxidants, vitamins, and lower sulfite levels, making them attractive to health-aware drinkers who seek indulgence without compromising wellness.
Expanding Flavor Profiles and Product Innovation
One of the core strengths of the fruit wine category lies in its versatility and variety. Unlike grape wines that largely depend on vintage and terroir, fruit wines can be made year-round using apples, cherries, peaches, plums, strawberries, blackberries, and more. This enables wineries and craft beverage producers to create unique, seasonal flavors that cater to changing consumer tastes.
In recent years, innovation has surged with the introduction of sparkling fruit wines, fruit-infused sangrias, low-calorie options, and ready-to-drink fruit wine coolers. These variants are especially popular among younger consumers who value convenience and flavor diversity. Moreover, fruit wine producers are experimenting with fermentation techniques and aging processes to improve complexity and shelf life, further elevating the market potential.
Global Market Expansion and Regional Trends
The Fruit Wine Market is experiencing robust growth across several regions, each contributing unique dynamics:
North America: Driven by a strong craft beverage culture and the health-conscious consumer base, the U.S. and Canada are witnessing rising demand for artisanal fruit wines. The local and sustainable sourcing of fruits also adds appeal in this market.
Europe: Traditional fruit wine consumption in countries like Poland, Germany, and the U.K. is evolving with a new wave of premiumization. Eco-conscious packaging and organic certifications are growing in popularity.
Asia-Pacific: This region is emerging as a lucrative market, particularly in countries like China, Japan, and South Korea, where fruity alcoholic drinks and novel flavor profiles resonate well with younger urban consumers.
Latin America and Middle East & Africa: While still nascent, these markets are seeing growth through hospitality, tourism, and an increasing presence of global fruit wine brands on retail shelves.
Shifting Alcohol Consumption Patterns
Global alcohol consumption is undergoing a transformation. There is a notable pivot away from high-alcohol, spirit-based beverages toward lighter, more palatable alternatives like hard seltzers, low-alcohol beers, and fruit wines. This shift is partially fueled by a growing demographic of "sober-curious" or occasional drinkers who still desire flavor-rich social drinks without the heaviness or intoxication associated with traditional alcohol.
Furthermore, the COVID-19 pandemic accelerated the shift to home-based consumption, prompting a surge in online alcohol sales and the demand for aesthetically packaged, premium-quality beverages like fruit wine. As e-commerce continues to grow, fruit wine producers are leveraging digital platforms for direct-to-consumer sales and brand storytelling.
Challenges and Market Barriers
Despite the growth trajectory, the Fruit Wine Market faces certain challenges. Consumer education is crucial, as many still associate wine solely with grapes. Clear labeling, in-store sampling, and targeted marketing campaigns are essential to overcome skepticism and promote fruit wine’s unique identity.
Regulatory frameworks can also hinder market penetration. In some regions, fruit wines are subject to different taxes or labeling requirements than grape wines, creating complexity for producers and importers. Inconsistent standards across countries can be a hurdle for global expansion.
Another barrier is shelf competition. As more beverage categories fight for retail space—including kombuchas, canned cocktails, and functional drinks—fruit wines must consistently innovate and differentiate to maintain visibility and consumer loyalty.
Future Outlook and Opportunities
Looking ahead, the Fruit Wine Market is poised for sustained growth driven by rising consumer experimentation, premium product lines, and global expansion. Strategic partnerships between fruit growers, wineries, and retail platforms can further streamline supply chains and support product diversification.
Sustainability is expected to become a dominant theme. Consumers are showing increasing interest in eco-friendly packaging, low-waste production processes, and socially responsible sourcing—all of which can be leveraged by fruit wine producers to strengthen brand reputation.
As awareness grows and consumer palates evolve, the fruit wine category is transforming from a specialty segment into a vibrant, competitive space within the global alcoholic beverage landscape.
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bandfwinesblog ¡ 3 days ago
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Ireland’s Wine Sector: Exploring Distribution, Imports, and Local Demand
Expanding Reach Through Wine Wholesalers Cork Businesses Trust
The demand for diverse wine portfolios continues to grow across Ireland, particularly in the southern region. Wine wholesalers Cork are playing a vital role in connecting global producers with local markets, helping retailers and hospitality venues in Cork meet consumer expectations. These wholesalers support regional growth by offering flexible purchasing options, tailored selections, and consistent delivery services.
The Essential Role of Wine Distributors in Ireland
Whether catering to fine dining establishments or independent retailers, wine distributors in Ireland provide the critical infrastructure that enables access to both everyday table wines and exclusive labels. Their experience in supply chain logistics and category management ensures clients receive the right stock, at the right time, and in optimum condition. These partnerships are vital to maintaining quality and variety across the country.
How Irish Wine Importers Influence the Market
Ireland imports the vast majority of its wine, making the role of Irish wine importers especially significant. These importers maintain relationships with top producers across Europe and the New World, ensuring Irish consumers have access to a wide range of regions and vintages. Their ability to forecast trends and understand local preferences shapes the retail offerings available throughout the market.
Strategic Growth Among Ireland Wine Importers
The competitive landscape of Ireland wine importers is defined by agility and innovation. These companies are not only sourcing traditional varietals but also championing emerging wine regions and sustainable winemaking practices. Their diverse portfolios and close attention to shifting consumer behaviour allow them to respond to new demands and maintain relevance in a crowded market.
Promoting Native Identity Through Wines From Ireland
Although best known as an importer, Ireland is also home to a small but growing domestic wine scene. Wines from Ireland include meads, fruit wines, and select grape-based offerings crafted in microclimates suited to viticulture. These locally produced wines highlight regional character and support the broader move toward artisanal, sustainable products.
Elevating Local Appreciation for Irish Wine
Consumer interest in provenance and authenticity has led to a renewed focus on Irish wine. While still a niche category, Irish-made wines are gaining recognition for their quality and storytelling. With continued investment in local viticulture and production, this sector offers exciting opportunities for both producers and forward-thinking retailers.
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rabbitcruiser ¡ 1 year ago
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Louis M. Martini Winery, St. Helena (No. 2)
In the 1930s Martini purchased a mountainside wine ranch in Sonoma County and named it Monte Rosso for its red soil. At the time high-elevation vineyards were unusual, but the site he bought had been a winery since the 1880s, and Martini had purchased fruit from the ranch for years. For a time the wines from these vineyards—elevation 700 feet (210 m) to 1,300 feet (400 m)—were marketed with "Mountain" or "California Mountain" in their name, but after many other wineries started using the "Mountain" descriptor, Martini's were changed to "Monte Rosso", and wines from those vineyards are still sold under that name.
In 1946 the patriarch, Louis M. Martini, was succeeded by his son, Louis P. Martini, a UC Berkeley graduate with a degree in food science. He also studied enology at UC Davis. He introduced innovations like cold rooms and wind machines, and worked with the Napa Technical Group to improve Napa winemaking and grape growing practices. His son Mike Martini joined the family business in 1974. His innovations included increased maceration time (leaving the wine in contact with the skins) and eliminating redwood tanks.
Source: Wikipedia
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zoepillustrationoff ¡ 25 days ago
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Checking out the Globe of A Glass Of Wine: A Trip With Taste and Custom
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Red wine is a lot more than simply a drink; it is a cultural artifact that has been commemorated for hundreds of years. From the rolling wineries of France to the sun-drenched hills of The golden state, every bottle of red wine narrates soaked in practice and workmanship. The process of wine-making, referred to as viticulture, encompasses whatever from the selection of grape varieties to the aging procedure in oak barrels. With a myriad of flavors, fragrances, and appearances, wine uses a sensory experience that can enhance any kind of dish or celebration. As lovers and newbies alike explore the nuances of various varietals, they uncover a world abundant with background, location, and personal expression.In current years
, red wine culture has actually experienced a renaissance of types, with a growing passion in organic and biodynamic red wines, along with a rise in tiny, artisanal producers. Red wine sampling has actually evolved right into an innovative art type, with specialized occasions and celebrations commemorating the diversity of wines available today. As consumers end up being much more adventurous, they are eager to match red wines with a selection of cuisines, try out vibrant mixes that test standard norms. Whether you are enjoying a durable Cabernet Sauvignon or a delicate Pinot Grigio, the journey of discovering wine is among exploration and enjoyment, inviting every person to elevate a glass and commemorate the beauty of this timeless drink.
Read more here personalized wine labels
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grapesinnovations ¡ 1 month ago
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HMS Software: Streamlining Healthcare Operations with Grapes Innovative Solutions
In the competitive healthcare environment, precision, efficiency, and speed are not optional they are mandatory. This is where HMS software (Hospital Management System software) plays a crucial role. Designed to simplify administrative, operational, and clinical functions, HMS software ensures that hospitals deliver top-quality care while maintaining streamlined internal processes. One of the notable names in this space is Grapes Innovative Solutions, offering their outstanding product, Grapes IDMR, an intelligent and scalable HMS software built to meet modern hospital needs.
How Grapes Innovative Solutions Sets a Benchmark in HMS Software
When choosing HMS software, reliability, scalability, and support are paramount. Grapes Innovative Solutions is committed to delivering these through Grapes IDMR. Their expertise in healthcare IT solutions ensures that the software adapts to hospital-specific needs, whether for a small clinic or a multi-specialty hospital. Their support team provides seamless onboarding, regular updates, and continuous assistance to help healthcare facilities extract maximum value from their HMS system. Grapes Innovative Solutions prioritizes data security, ensuring that patient information is protected through robust encryption and access control mechanisms. Hospitals using Grapes IDMR have reported improved workflow efficiency, reduced operational costs, and elevated patient satisfaction levels a testament to the power of a well-designed hospital management system.
Why HMS Software is Vital for Modern Hospitals
Hospitals today manage vast volumes of data   from patient records to billing and facility management. Traditional methods are no longer enough to cope with growing demands. Here's where HMS software makes a critical difference:
Centralized Information: It consolidates all hospital-related data into a single system.
Operational Efficiency: It speeds up administrative workflows, minimizes errors, and reduces redundancy.
Patient-Centric Care: Staff have instant access to accurate patient data, improving diagnosis and treatment.
Financial Management: From billing to insurance claims, HMS software automates processes to ensure error-free transactions.
Grapes IDMR by Grapes Innovative Solutions delivers all these functionalities in one integrated platform, making it the preferred choice for hospitals looking to optimize their services.
Core Capabilities of Grapes IDMR HMS Software
1. Patient Management Made Simple:
Managing patient information manually can lead to mistakes and inefficiencies. Grapes IDMR streamlines patient registration, appointment scheduling, electronic medical records management, and discharge processes, ensuring accuracy at every step. With real-time updates, doctors and administrative staff are always informed about patient history, treatments, and ongoing procedures.
2. Optimized Resource and Inventory Management:
Hospitals must efficiently manage their resources such as medicines, equipment, and beds. Grapes IDMR offers detailed inventory tracking and automated alerts for low stock, reducing wastage and ensuring that critical resources are always available when needed. This intelligent system supports procurement management, supplier information, and stock auditing making hospital operations smooth and predictable.
3. Financial and Billing Automation:
Manual billing is prone to human error and delays. Grapes IDMR automates billing for outpatient and inpatient services, ensuring timely invoicing, insurance claim generation, and payment tracking. The financial dashboard provided by the system allows hospital administrators to maintain transparency, boost profitability, and forecast future expenses.
Conclusion
Choosing the right HMS software is not just about managing today’s operations; it’s about preparing for tomorrow’s challenges. Grapes IDMR, crafted by Grapes Innovative Solutions, is the strategic choice for hospitals aiming to achieve seamless operations, superior patient care, and financial excellence. If you are seeking a trusted partner to modernize your healthcare facility, Grapes IDMR offers the right blend of technology, support, and customization.
Contact Us: [email protected] Visit Us: Best hms software in india
Call: +91-7510330000
FAQs 
What is HMS software and why is it important?HMS software (Hospital Management System) helps hospitals automate, manage, and streamline their administrative, financial, and clinical operations, leading to better patient care and operational efficiency.
Can small hospitals or clinics use Grapes IDMR HMS Software?Yes, Grapes IDMR is scalable and customizable, making it suitable for small clinics, mid-sized hospitals, and large healthcare networks.
How secure is patient data in Grapes IDMR? Grapes IDMR prioritizes data security with encrypted databases, role-based access, and regular security updates to ensure complete protection of sensitive information.
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winerytourcanberra ¡ 1 month ago
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Discover the Charm of a Wine Tour in Canberra
Canberra, known for its vibrant cultural scene and political significance, also offers an incredible wine experience. Nestled within the picturesque landscapes of the Canberra Wine District, wine tours here promise not only exceptional wines but also breathtaking views and memorable experiences. Whether you're a wine aficionado or just looking to enjoy a relaxing day out, a wine tour in Canberra is an experience like no other.
Journey Through Scenic Vineyards
The Canberra Wine District is home to some of the finest vineyards in Australia. The region's cool-climate conditions create ideal growing conditions for high-quality wines, offering visitors a chance to experience world-class varieties such as Shiraz, Pinot Noir, and Riesling. During your wine tour, you will have the opportunity to stroll through the lush vineyards, witnessing the meticulous care that goes into each grape harvest. The passion of local winemakers and the beauty of the landscape come together to create an unforgettable experience.
Enjoy Tasting Experiences at Wineries
One of the highlights of any wine tour in Canberra is the chance to taste a variety of wines directly from the source. Each winery offers its own unique approach to winemaking, and the tasting rooms are the perfect setting to explore these diverse flavors. Many wineries also provide food pairings that complement the wines, allowing you to enjoy local delicacies while savoring your favorite varietals. Whether you’re a novice or a seasoned connoisseur, the knowledgeable staff will ensure you learn something new with each sip.
Stunning Views and Relaxing Ambiance
Canberra’s wine region is not just about the wine; it’s about the experience. The area is renowned for its stunning vistas of rolling hills, serene lakes, and expansive vineyards. These views create the perfect backdrop for a relaxing day out, whether you are enjoying a tasting session or sitting down for a leisurely lunch. Many of the wineries feature outdoor picnic areas where you can unwind and soak in the beauty of the surroundings.
Local Flavors and Pairings
A wine tour in Canberra is a sensory journey, and the local food offerings are just as exceptional as the wines. Many wineries feature collaborations with local chefs to create delicious food pairings, ensuring the perfect complement to each glass of wine. From gourmet platters to hearty meals, the combination of fine wine and fresh, locally sourced ingredients elevates the whole experience.
Tailored Wine Tour Packages
For those looking to make the most of their wine tour in Canberra, a variety of tour packages are available. Local tour operators offer guided experiences that include transportation, allowing you to relax and fully enjoy the day without worrying about logistics. Whether you prefer a private tour for an intimate experience or a group outing to share the fun, there are plenty of options to suit your preferences.
When to Visit for the Best Wine Tour
The best time to embark on a wine tour in Canberra is during the harvest season, which typically spans from late February to early April. During this time, the vineyards are at their most vibrant, and many wineries host special events to celebrate the harvest, such as wine tastings and food festivals. However, Canberra’s wine region is stunning year-round, with spring and summer offering perfect weather for outdoor activities and wine exploration.
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