Tumgik
#it’s fine it’s just below 50 degrees inside
samwisefamgee · 1 year
Text
finally got a second heater and it doesn’t work 🙃
#it’s fine it’s just below 50 degrees inside#not like that wasn’t most of last winter anyway but#man I was hoping to not have to deal with this#and this is like the fourth time in two weeks I thought it was done. FULLY taken care of#just to have circumstance or SOMEONE I KNOW fuck me over. fuck ME over!!!! I’M ALREADY FUCKED OVER!!!! 24 fucking 7!!!! fuck someone else!#I’m ace anyway 😡#I’m just so exhausted it’s like Murphys’ law has seeped into every single aspect of my life from personal private or social to familial#like it’s just all been so bad lately#but despite all the many ways my life has been pretty literally crumbling away or apart#right now the worst thing was expecting#again#to be able to get out of bed not shivering or walk in from outside and be comfortable#and having it wrenched away at the last second. again. rough stuff bro#‘Sam get a job’ my companion in christ I live in a rotting box and every time I try to make it better something else get so much worse#I cannot get a job if I’m just barely surviving but thanks#and MAYBE if I didn’t have to move out so I wouldn’t kms I may have a job 🤷 so maaaybe don’t tell me to get once since I’m here cause of YOU#it’s fine I’m fine with it#I’m not vagueing it’s not personal I’m fine#😒😞#all I’m saying is if 13 year old Sam could see what 23 year old Sam looks like and lives like he def woulda just killer himself#like it was bad then and I thought I’d be good now but MAN#MAN COULD THAT NOT HAVE BEEN MORE WRONG BUD. pretty much been a straight downward slope since#holdin out wasn’t worth it so far man. maybe we’ll get lucky with a few more years of agony and suffering tho 🤷#killer himself ffs good thing this is a shitty cringe vent post
3 notes · View notes
headspace-hotel · 2 years
Text
The day before yesterday I got to try a ripe pawpaw for the first time.
Someone else was supposed to come in at the center, but I was in the mood to be alone, so I fucked off into the woods at the earliest available opportunity, looking to collect more hickory nuts.
I hiked about two miles down the trail, seeking to find a little-used path as far from the center as I could reasonably make it. I was five or ten minutes down a fork in the path heading down a valley when I unexpectedly smelled something familiar: the scent of ripe pawpaws. I only knew that scent from having come upon a rotten one several days back on the trail.
I had seen pawpaw trees on the way up, but I looked around and saw nothing. I indulged a beast-like impulse: I sniffed. I turned until I was facing the direction of the scent and moved towards it. And I saw, about 50 feet away down the hillside below...a pawpaw grove
Some interesting facts about pawpaws:
The pawpaw is the largest fruit native to North America, known for its "tropical" flavor. Despite being reputed to be delicious, it is not found in grocery stores due to the fruits being far too delicate to ship without spoiling. A few people farm them, but otherwise the only way to get one is to come upon one growing wild, which is rare, because the opossums love them.
Pawpaw trees are hard to grow and take 10-15 years to produce fruit, but you can see wild ones in mature and well managed woods of Kentucky. They are small, barely trees, only about 15-20 feet tall, with trunks only a bit bigger around than a circle you can make with your index finger and thumb. They almost always grow in clonal colonies, groups of many trees that are all clones of each other due to being propagated from the roots of existing trees. They are also strictly understory trees, growing in the shade of much larger trees.
Now, an interesting fact about Eastern Kentucky: At the fringe of Appalachia, and even into parts of the Outer Bluegrass, the terrain frequently turns into very steep rolling hills.
It's hard to notice if you are in more cultivated areas that have been leveled out more, but in wilder parts you can seldom just casually walk in a straight line through the woods. Unless you are following the contour of the hills, you are either sliding and gripping saplings to slow your descent or you are climbing on all fours.
Such was the hill below me, descending at roughly a fifty-degree angle into the pawpaw grove.
I was going to get me some fucking pawpaws.
I climb down the hill by a combination of scooting, sliding, and scrabbling. After a few minutes of struggle I am standing in the pawpaw grove, alone, scanning the branches with my eyes.
The ground is littered everywhere with pawpaws, some very rotten. I see only two or three fruits remaining in the trees, and I walk around giving each tree a good shake, thinking to myself about how this is certainly an experience shared by millions of years' worth of primate ancestors before me.
After nearly ten minutes of (literally) fruitless tree-shaking, I start to eye the fallen pawpaws on the ground around me.
Some of them are perfectly fine-looking. The skin hasn't even been broken into. I pick one up.
It is very soft, but not squishy like something rotten. It is about as long as my index finger (my hands are small) and oblong. Its smooth skin is pale green and spotted with brown like a very ripe banana. I tear the skin back and give the creamy orange insides a test lick.
Friends.
It was transcendent.
Imagine the most perfect ripe mango, but with a flavor that is more banana-like, mellow and creamy and mild instead of tangy. The texture is perfectly smooth and soft unlike any other fruit. You can lick it and it will just melt in your mouth.
I am autistic and a very picky eater due to the difficult textures of many foods, and this fruit has the perfect texture. Mangos are already one of my favorite foods and this is somehow even better. I remember, deliriously, that farmers are seeking to improve pawpaws for possible commercial production, and it seems like the height of foolishness there in the pawpaw grove. There is no possible way wild pawpaws could be improved. All of creation is tainted by the Fall of Man, except for fucking pawpaws, because they are beyond the earthly tier of fruits.
I lick it like a dog going crazy on a Kong full of peanut butter until it falls apart in my hands and start scanning the ground for another.
They are all perfectly ripe and mostly untouched by bugs or creatures. I start just squishing them in my hands and licking the creamy insides. I am just planting my face in these fruits like some kind of animal. My face and hands are covered in pawpaw squish.
I go through like ten of them before returning to my senses. I've been thoughtlessly wiping my hands on my pants, and they are now more soiled than the clothes of the messiest toddler. I feel primal and connected to my ancestors. I have truly earned my Primate Card.
My mom said in the car that I smelled very strongly of something (pawpaws) so it's safe to say that literally every person I passed on the way back down the trail got a good whiff too, and likely connected it to the Pawpaw Squish that was basically all over me.
Regrets: None
7K notes · View notes
wintersoldiersoul · 6 months
Note
hey dear ❤️ I maybe thought of an imagine with Bucky where you're on a mission in the mountains but due to the weather you need to stay in a little cabin for the night but it's terribly cold. He lights a fire but then he offers you his sweater. You're both getting closer (you have a crush as well on each other), so you kinda forget about the mission and just enjoy the time together as you also share a meaningful kiss?
Keep Me Warm
A/N: I changed up the timeline of this a tiny bit but the main idea is still there! I hope you enjoy!!
Tumblr media
The mission had been long and grueling. You and Bucky have spent nearly a week in the mountains trying to take down the enemy. You were exhausted, both physically and mentally. Finally, you had gotten the call that you could come home. You were so excited to be back home in the compound, sleeping in your own comfy bed.
“Excited to go home, Y/N?” Bucky asked. 
You rubbed your hands together, trying to keep warm while you waited for the jet. “Can’t wait. I’m looking forward to a nice hot shower and sleeping in my bed.”
He smiled. There was no better thing in the world than him smiling. You tried to keep your crush on him at bay, knowing he’d never feel the same way about you, but damn was it hard. His blue eyes were so mesmerizing and his smile could wake a goddamn army. He was just so perfect.
You smiled back, hoping that he assumed that the blush on your cheeks was from the cold and not from him.
His phone rang and he answered, hoping it would be an update on how far the jet was. “Hey Steve,” Bucky said into the device. “Shit, really? Yeah, yeah, that’s fine,” he sighed. “Yup. I’ll check back when we’re there. Bye.” He hung up and looked at you. “Bad news. There’s a bad storm coming and the jet can’t fly. We’re gonna have to stay here another night.”
“Fuckk,” you threw your head back in frustration. You had spent the entire mission hiding in safe house to safe house, all of them in secluded areas where you couldn’t be found. Sometimes if you were lucky, you got to stay in nicer places with actual beds and furniture. But due to the sensitive nature of this mission, that hadn't been the case. The thought of spending another night in one of those places nearly made you cry. 
“Good news is that Steve said there’s a cabin not too far. It’s still nothing fancy, but he said its an upgrade to what we’ve been in. We should be safe now that we’ve, you know, taken down the enemy,” he smiled warmly, trying to get you to stay positive. 
“Oh, that's good,” you responded. “Let’s go, then.” 
The two of you had to trudge through the snow to get there. The walk ended up being nearly 2 hours and you couldn’t feel your body by the time you arrived. The cabin was small, with only one bedroom, a living room, a small kitchen, and a bathroom.
“Shit, you’re shivering,” Bucky noted when you got inside.
“Yeah, how are you not?” 
He shrugged. “It’s the serum. I’m still cold, don’t get me wrong, but it makes it a lot harder for me to be cold. Even in freezing weather.”
“Must be n-nice,” you mumbled through chattering teeth. “I get cold so easily. Any time it’s below 50 degrees I can’t f-feel my t-toes.”
“Go take a hot shower, okay? I’ll try to see if there’s any food I can make for us.” 
You nodded, going to the bathroom to take a shower. You took your time, rejoicing in the hot water as you washed all of the dirt off of your skin. When you got out, you rummaged through your bag trying to find a sweatshirt but it seemed to have disappeared. “Fuck,” you whispered. You must have left it at the last safe house. You threw on a t-shirt and sweats, still shivering as you made your way into the kitchen.
“Is the heat on?” You asked Bucky.
“I think it’s broken. I was playing around with it but it doesn’t seem to be doing anything.”
You rubbed your hands over your arms, trying to get warm. “Shit, I think I left my sweatshirt at the last safe house.” 
 “Doll, you’re gonna freeze,” he said sympathetically. “Here.” In one fell-swoop he ripped off the gray cable knit sweater that he had on. “I just put it on when we got here so it’s clean.”
“Buck, I don’t want you to be cold, though,” you protested, despite how cozy the sweater looked. 
He swatted a hand. “Remember, I don’t get too cold. Don’t worry about me. You’re gonna turn into an ice block soon.”
You smiled, graciously. “Thanks.” You pulled the sweater over your head, immediately enthralled by his scent. The fabric smelled like musky vanilla and pine, the scent that you had come to associate with him. It smelled like home. 
“I was able to find some soup,” he said, holding out a bowl for you. “Maybe it will help warm you up.” 
“Thank you, Buck.” You sat down and began to eat.
“Lemme see if I can get a fire started,” he got up and walked over to the fireplace. You watched him as he threw wood into a pile, entranced by his muscles flexing each time he picked up another piece. Between the serum, the metal arm, and the fact that he was just so in shape, he did it all with ease, not even flinching at the weight. How could you not fall for the guy just a little bit? 
“You alright over there?” He smirked at you, noticing your eyes on him.
Shit, get it together, Y/N, you thought. “Oh, sorry, just zoning out,” you tried to cover. 
Within a few minutes, he had a roaring fire emanating heat throughout the room. But it still wasn’t enough to keep you warm over by the table you were still sitting at. 
“Come over here,” he encouraged. “It's nice and warm by the fire.”
You stood up and made your way over to the couch so that you could feel the heat of the fire better. “Oh, that’s nice,” you hummed, feeling the embers warming your body. Bucky crept up beside you sitting down and rubbing his flesh arm over yours.
“You’re fucking freezing. I can feel how cold you are through the sweater,” he whispered. He was so close to you. “Lemme hold you. Warm you up a bit.”
“Um,” you cleared your throat, heart rate speeding up. “O-okay. Yeah, sure.” 
He laughed quietly before pulling you so you were laying back against him. “Damn, I feel bad that you’re so cold,” he said, voice holding sympathy and care.
“It’s not your fault, Buck. You’re already doing a lot to try to help.”
The next words he said were something you never thought you’d hear. “Maybe I should never let you go. Just keep holding you like this forever.”
“What?” Did you hear him right? Did he really just say that? He laughed lightly. “Would you like that?”
“Bucky, I-um…” you felt so flustered. Was he just messing with you?
“Come on, Doll,” he smiled. “I don’t know how much more obvious I can make it that I’m kinda in love with you. And I think…” he said, putting his mouth close to your ear. “You might feel the same way about me.”
“Bucky,” you whispered, the feeling of him speaking into your ear sending chills through your body. 
“If I’m reading it totally wrong that’s okay. But I can’t hide how I feel anymore, Y/N. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. I couldn’t even talk to you for like 3 months because I got so flustered around you. Then we did start talking and I found out that you were also the most interesting, intelligent, kind person I’ve ever met. So tell me, please. Do you feel the same way?”
Your heart pounded. How was this happening? “Yes, Bucky. I-I feel the same way.”
He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Can you turn around so I can kiss you?”
You quickly flipped your body so you were lying on him, face to face. He pulled your mouth to his, quickly inserting his tongue into your mouth. It was so much better than you had imagined, and you had spent a lot of time fantasizing about kissing him. 
“Y/N,” he said, resting his forehead against yours. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” He ran his hand up and down your back as he spoke. “You’re so amazing.”
“I’ve been dreaming about that for a while too, Buck,” you laughed, enjoying his embrace. “You know,” you spoke, voice in a teasing tone. “There’s only one bed in here. We might have to put it to good use.”
Within a second, Bucky picked you up and carried you to the bedroom.
488 notes · View notes
Note
So, winter storms are headed my way. I'm worried about the power getting knocked out and having no heat. If that happens, what is the best way to keep my bp's warm?
(And if you have any advice on how to keep small geckos warm, that would help a lot too)
We're bracing for a winter storm where I'm at, too. I've got a bunch of grumpy snakes on my hands because we skipped feeding day this week just in case our power gets knocked out!
Right, so if you're in the US in the path of this storm, they're forcasting some absolutely horrific wind chills. We're looking at -35 where I'm at and apparently we're going to be getting off easy. If your power goes out with these temperatures, it can get very unpleasant very fast. Here are my top tips for how to keep your reptiles safe if you lose power in this weather! They'll be tips for all reptiles, not just snakes.
First things first, a reassuring note: reptiles, as a rule, tolerate temporary too-cold temperatures much better than they tolerate too-hot temperatures. If your power goes out and your snake's enclosure stays above at least 55 degrees Fahrenheit for a day or two, they will be absolutely fine. Below 75 is when we start to see regurgitations, so be aware of that (that's why it's best to avoid feeding if there's a risk of your power going out in winter weather), but as long as temperatures don't drop below the low 50s, your reptiles will be okay in the long term.
Wrap heavy blankets around your reptile enclosures as soon as the power goes out, especially if you have a glass tank and/or a screen lid. This will help keep some of the warm air in there.
For short outages, hold your reptiles and share your body heat! Be mindful of your reptiles' comfort level, but sharing body heat can be wonderful for short outages to keep your reptiles warm and comfy.
If you're looking at an outage that's going to last a few days, move your reptiles to a smaller container. I always recommend keeping smaller travel bins for purposes like this! This is especially true for glass enclosures with screen lids, which will bleed heat. Get your reptiles into smaller containers wrapped in blankets, which will be easier to keep warm. Make sure they have small holes to breathe!
Shipping heat packs or, in a pinch, handwarmers. Shipping packs are best because they're designed to keep reptiles warm, and they last longer and stay at safe temperatures, but handwarmers can work in a bind. Don't put an emergency heat source inside the enclosure or directly on your snake. Instead, place them on the side (never the bottom, the side) of the enclosure.
If you don't have either, hot water bottles wrapped in a towel and propped against the enclosure can do nicely. Just always be sure never to put an emergency heat source in direct contact with your snake.
Good luck, and if the power does go out, try not to panic! Reptiles by and large tolerate temporary cold very well.
252 notes · View notes
NiMy First Content Writing Instagram and Treads Kwork
✓  Chocolate baking
Eating chocolate is pure joy, cooking with it a delight, even smelling it bewitching, but buying it shakes my faith in human nature. 
The best chocolate is wonderful, but most is not worth buying and most People buy terrible stuff.
Good quality plain or dark chocolate will taste smooth not greasy, bitter not raw, intense not oversweet, with a long finish, not a cloying aftertaste.
But how do you know good quality?
Price is not a reliable guide - in fact supermarkets’ Own brands are usually excellent and are a good bargain when buying in bulk for cooking.
✓ The  quality and taste of chocolate is détermined by the quantity and quality of the Cocoa solids- the dry solids plus the added Cocoa butter- used in its production. 
The quantity of solids, at least, IS indicated on the packet.
Couverture chocolate, used for fillings and icings, usually has around 55 per cent Cocoa solids, bitter chocolate around 65 per cent, and Super amer or extra bitter, best for puddings, fine cakes and eating, is just over 70 per cent.
Some chocolates labelled’ for cooking ‘ Can contain as little as 30 per cent Cocoa solids: the rest is sugar, fats and flavourings.
✓  The raw material for Chocolate is the Cocoa bean, found in the large yellow-green fruits of the Theobroma cacao tree which grows only within 20 degrees north or south of the equator.
Each tree yields enough beans to make around 2,5 kg of chocolate each year.
The best chocolate is made From a blend of beans- each type has its Own individual character and colour ranging From pale coffee through to dark mahogany Brown.
Store chocolate well away From other foods in an airtight container in a cool,dry place, because it Can easily be tainted by other Flavours.
✓  Avoid storing chocolate below 13°C, or in the fridge, as beads of moisture will form when you bring it to room temperature.
Don’t store in a hot kitchen(30°C or above) or it will développant a White bloom as the Cocoa butter Comes to the surface. 
The bloom does not affect its taste however- it Can still used for cooking.
Chocolate begins melting at 30°C(that’s why it melts in the mouth) and Burns AT 110°C.
Melt it slowly and gradually as it easily becomes overheated and scorched, and turns into an unusable solid mass.
Chop it into evenly sized pieces so it melts at thé same rate. 
✓ Place in a shallow, heatproof bowl set over a pan of streaming hot, not boiling, water.
The water must not touch the base of the bowl, and no drop of water or Steam should touch the chocolate or it will seize up. 
Stir frequently, and remove from the heat as soon as it melts.
Chapitre 2
Chocolate Cakes:
Almond Chocolate Kugelhopf :
400 g strong white bread flour
½ teaspoon sea salt
15 g fresh yeast
60 g golden caster sugar
200 ml skimmed milk, lukewarm
3 medium eggs, beaten
100 g unsalted butter, softened
50 g slivered or flaked almonds
60 g plain chocolate, roughly chopped
Nut Coating :
25 g unsalted butter, very soft
50 g slivered or flaked almonds
icing sugar, for dusting
one 23 cm Kugelhopf mould
Makes 1 large Cake
To use easy-blend dried yeast, mix one 7g sachet with 140 g of the flour. Mix in the sugar and milk and let rise for 30 minutes.
Make a well in the remaining flour, add the salt, add the yeast liquid and eggs and proceed with the recipe.
✓ To make the nut coating, thickly butter the inside of the  Kugelhopf mould with the very soft butter, then press the almonds all around. Chill while preparing thé dough.
To make thé dough, mix the flour and salt in a large mixing bowl, then make a well in the centre.
Crumble thé yeast into a small bowl, then cream to a smooth liquid with the sugar and milk. Pour into the well, and work in enough flour to make a thick batter.
Cover with a damp tea towel, and leave at normal room temperature for 30 minutes. 
The batter should look bubbly.
Add the eggs to the yeast liquid, stir until combined, then gradually beat in the flour to make a soft and very sticky dough.
Beat the dough in the bowl with your hand or with the dough hook in an electric mixer for about 5 minutes or until it becomes firmer, smooth, very elastic and shiny.
Work in the soft butter until thoroughly incorporated, then the almonds and chocolate.
When evenly mixed, carefully spoon the soft dough into the prepared mould(it should be half full).
Cover the mould with a damp tea towel and let rise at normal room temperature until the dough has almost doubled in size and has risen to about 2.5 cm below the rim of the mould-about 1 hour. 
Bake in a preheated oven at 200°C(400°F) Gas 6 for about 45 minutes, or until the Cake is golden brown and a skewer inserted into the dough midway between the outer edge and inner tube comes out clean.
Leave to cool for 1 minute, then carefully unmould on to a wire rack and let cool completely.
Serve dusted with icing sugar.
Store in an airtight container and eat with 3 days or freeze for up to 1 month.
It can also be lightly toasted under a grill.
Variations:
Marbled Kugelhopf
Replace 50g of the strong white bread flour with 50 g sieved cocoa powder and 25 g sugar. 
Replace the 60 g plain chocolate with a similar quantity of white chocolate, roughly chopped. Proceed as in the main recipe.
My First Content Writing Instagram and Treads Kwork
✓  Chocolate baking
Eating chocolate is pure joy, cooking with it a delight, even smelling it bewitching, but buying it shakes my faith in human nature. 
The best chocolate is wonderful, but most is not worth buying and most People buy terrible stuff.
Good quality plain or dark chocolate will taste smooth not greasy, bitter not raw, intense not oversweet, with a long finish, not a cloying aftertaste.
But how do you know good quality?
Price is not a reliable guide - in fact supermarkets’ Own brands are usually excellent and are a good bargain when buying in bulk for cooking.
✓ The  quality and taste of chocolate is détermined by the quantity and quality of the Cocoa solids- the dry solids plus the added Cocoa butter- used in its production. 
The quantity of solids, at least, IS indicated on the packet.
Couverture chocolate, used for fillings and icings, usually has around 55 per cent Cocoa solids, bitter chocolate around 65 per cent, and Super amer or extra bitter, best for puddings, fine cakes and eating, is just over 70 per cent.
Some chocolates labelled’ for cooking ‘ Can contain as little as 30 per cent Cocoa solids: the rest is sugar, fats and flavourings.
✓  The raw material for Chocolate is the Cocoa bean, found in the large yellow-green fruits of the Theobroma cacao tree which grows only within 20 degrees north or south of the equator.
Each tree yields enough beans to make around 2,5 kg of chocolate each year.
The best chocolate is made From a blend of beans- each type has its Own individual character and colour ranging From pale coffee through to dark mahogany Brown.
Store chocolate well away From other foods in an airtight container in a cool,dry place, because it Can easily be tainted by other Flavours.
✓  Avoid storing chocolate below 13°C, or in the fridge, as beads of moisture will form when you bring it to room temperature.
Don’t store in a hot kitchen(30°C or above) or it will développant a White bloom as the Cocoa butter Comes to the surface. 
The bloom does not affect its taste however- it Can still used for cooking.
Chocolate begins melting at 30°C(that’s why it melts in the mouth) and Burns AT 110°C.
Melt it slowly and gradually as it easily becomes overheated and scorched, and turns into an unusable solid mass.
Chop it into evenly sized pieces so it melts at thé same rate. 
✓ Place in a shallow, heatproof bowl set over a pan of streaming hot, not boiling, water.
The water must not touch the base of the bowl, and no drop of water or Steam should touch the chocolate or it will seize up. 
Stir frequently, and remove from the heat as soon as it melts.
Chapitre 2
Chocolate Cakes:
Almond Chocolate Kugelhopf :
400 g strong white bread flour
½ teaspoon sea salt
15 g fresh yeast
60 g golden caster sugar
200 ml skimmed milk, lukewarm
3 medium eggs, beaten
100 g unsalted butter, softened
50 g slivered or flaked almonds
60 g plain chocolate, roughly chopped
Nut Coating :
25 g unsalted butter, very soft
50 g slivered or flaked almonds
icing sugar, for dusting
one 23 cm Kugelhopf mould
Makes 1 large Cake
To use easy-blend dried yeast, mix one 7g sachet with 140 g of the flour. Mix in the sugar and milk and let rise for 30 minutes.
Make a well in the remaining flour, add the salt, add the yeast liquid and eggs and proceed with the recipe.
✓ To make the nut coating, thickly butter the inside of the  Kugelhopf mould with the very soft butter, then press the almonds all around. Chill while preparing thé dough.
To make thé dough, mix the flour and salt in a large mixing bowl, then make a well in the centre.
Crumble thé yeast into a small bowl, then cream to a smooth liquid with the sugar and milk. Pour into the well, and work in enough flour to make a thick batter.
Cover with a damp tea towel, and leave at normal room temperature for 30 minutes. 
The batter should look bubbly.
Add the eggs to the yeast liquid, stir until combined, then gradually beat in the flour to make a soft and very sticky dough.
Beat the dough in the bowl with your hand or with the dough hook in an electric mixer for about 5 minutes or until it becomes firmer, smooth, very elastic and shiny.
Work in the soft butter until thoroughly incorporated, then the almonds and chocolate.
When evenly mixed, carefully spoon the soft dough into the prepared mould(it should be half full).
Cover the mould with a damp tea towel and let rise at normal room temperature until the dough has almost doubled in size and has risen to about 2.5 cm below the rim of the mould-about 1 hour. 
Bake in a preheated oven at 200°C(400°F) Gas 6 for about 45 minutes, or until the Cake is golden brown and a skewer inserted into the dough midway between the outer edge and inner tube comes out clean.
Leave to cool for 1 minute, then carefully unmould on to a wire rack and let cool completely.
Serve dusted with icing sugar.
Store in an airtight container and eat with 3 days or freeze for up to 1 month.
It can also be lightly toasted under a grill.
Variations:
Marbled Kugelhopf
Replace 50g of the strong white bread flour with 50 g sieved cocoa powder and 25 g sugar. 
Replace the 60 g plain chocolate with a similar quantity of white chocolate, roughly chopped. Proceed as in the main recipe.
Sultana Kugelhopf 
Replace 50g of the strong white bread flour with 50g sieved cocoa powder and 25 g sugar. 
Replace the 60 g plain Chocolate with a similar quantity of sultanas or raisins. Proceed as in the main recipe.
Note: both cocoa variations of this recipe are delicious toasted and spread with peanut butter.
This pretty, yeast coffee-time cake is made in a traditional earthenware mould, a tube pan or non-stick ring mould. Serve it either plain or toasted.
Sultana Kugelhopf 
Replace 50g of the strong white bread flour with 50g sieved cocoa powder and 25 g sugar. 
Replace the 60 g plain Chocolate with a similar quantity of sultanas or raisins. Proceed as in the main recipe.
Note: both cocoa variations of this recipe are delicious toasted and spread with peanut butter.
This pretty, yeast coffee-time cake is made in a traditional earthenware mould, a tube pan or non-stick ring mould. Serve it either plain or toasted.
2 notes · View notes
oldmanbayou · 1 year
Text
getting through a cold spell with chickens
Wow, the discourse on chicken facebook has gotten heated this week! We're getting 2-day cold spell starting early tomorrow morning and the temperature is supposed to dip down to -15 degrees with a record breaking windchill of up to -50 degrees. YIKES. There's a mix of people, mostly newbies, who are unsure if they should bring their chickens inside or give them supplemental heat during this cold spell, and then there's the other extreme: the grizzly tough love old-timer types who say they've never lost a chicken to cold in their 800 years of chickenkeeping, they'll do just fine, and they have to go off on their lecture: "You stupid fools! You'll just kill them if you bring them inside! They can't survive the drastic temperature shifts! Rarrr!!" Seemingly few middle-ground folks, but I suppose that’s the internet. 
For my own personal flock, I've always taken the side of the second group with the old folks, and have found myself in many irritating arguments with people who don't even have chickens but feel a need to call me cruel for refusing to provide heat in the coop or refusing to bring them indoors during cold spells. My chickens are cold hardy as fuck, why on earth would I ever risk burning their coop down or pampering them to death with heat when they were bred specifically for the cold?! And truth be told, they've always done just dandy even on the coldest days. They cope far better with winter cold spells than they do with summer heat waves. (I would like to be perfectly clear though -- I do not judge or fault people who do use heat in their coop. People have their reasons and their own unique circumstances that differ from my own. The reason why this discussion gets so heated in the chicken community is because is NO correct one-size-fits-all answer to this dilemma.)
But this upcoming cold spell is exceptional...While it’s teetering on extreme even for Massachusetts and it might be a record for my birds, we do always get some freak cold spell like this every year and it’s not exactly new to them. And they are pretty well protected from the asinine windchill in their coop. Nonetheless, despite having a few winters now with the hens and having a decent enough understanding of the types of weather extremes they’re capable of enduring, I'm finding myself agreeing with the newbs this time around and vehemently disagreeing with the veterans. 
Do the old folks not know how to do math? Or maybe they haven't gone outside in few months and don't realize it's been fucking March? Cold hardy breeds first need to acclimate to winter before they achieve their cold hardiness points in the winter. They cannot just suddenly have a heavy dose of extreme winter and expect to be as hardy as ever. It was 45 degrees out this afternoon, and has been in the 40s for virtually this entire winter. My fucking hydrangeas have had leaves on them and my mother’s daffodils are blooming. Even people as old as time have NEVER experienced a winter quite like this. You would think the ladies would be well acclimated to winter by February, but no. Doubtful. This year they are acclimated to...40s. Spring. Would the old folks feel concerned if it dropped to -15 degrees in say, September? Just because they’ve survived harsh winter weather before? Let’s not make the mistake that so many chickenkeepers in the midwest made when it was -30 in late fall. My feed was just flooded with gnarly pictures of frostbite that week and grief over dead chickens. We've had a few days here and there where it was in the 30s. That's genuinely the coldest it's been. We've had more days in the 50s than the 30s this winter! It’s been so unseasonably warm that I’ve had a winter layer for the first time ever. Very few nights, possibly none even, have dropped below 20. Going from 45 degrees to say, hypothetically, a 65 degree home for a couple of days (and this is rather generous for a New England home, I think most of us suffer with the thermostat on 55 just to keep the pipes from bursting) -- That's a 20 degree difference. They're perfectly capable of coping with that. But going from 45 degrees to fucking -15?! 60 degree difference. Last I checked, 60 > 20. Shouldn't these old timers who are soooo concerned about other people killing their chickens with temperature shifts in their homes, shouldn’t they be concerned about their chickens dying of shock in this cold?!
So anyway, I’m probably not going to bring them inside, but I am swallowing my pride and resorting to a panel heater in their coop for the first time. JUST to get them through this wicked cold spell. The temperature is going to swing straight back up to 45 on Sunday and stay in the 40s again until the end of time. A panel heater is NOT like a heat lamp (another thing the olds like to wail about any time someone mentions heat for the coop) -- the fire risk is extremely minimal/almost nonexistent as it doesn’t get nearly hot enough to be a concern. It’s just designed to provide radiant heat. It will bring the coop up by 5-10 degrees depending on setting, and the hens need to be near it to even feel the heat so the risk of shocking them is pretty nonexistent even if the power were to go out suddenly.  It sort of feels like an electric blanket to touch. I would not spoil them with this throughout the winter as you really do need to give them some tough love so they can achieve winter hardiness. But, it being February...I’m not really concerned about prepping them for winter at this stage. They’re as prepped as they’re going to get, which unfortunately, I don’t imagine is very impressive...
Whatever happens, whomever is right or wrong, if that even matters....I just really hope my feed isn’t flooded with gross frostbite pictures again in a few days....
4 notes · View notes
nukenai · 1 year
Text
So my horses live outside 24/7, I really don't blanket them unless it goes below 20, but this winter we had so many weird "50 and raining during the day, then drops to 15 overnight" days, so they've had their blankets on pretty much always. They keep them on and don't destroy them so I figured why not!
I took them off yesterday because it seems like we're through the worst of winter, it's gonna be upper 40s and even 50s so they're fine. They both get coats twice the length of all the others at the barn. Even with Rain being 22.
And like no offense but so many people are such weenies about their horses. I mentioned to another boarder that I took their blankets, and she goes "but wait, isn't it supposed to rain tomorrow?" and this woman is very sweet but is also extremely neurotic and absolutely freaks out when her slightly goofy 14HH gelding "acts up". He sniffs for treats and she goes "oh he's being a monster, he's being so bad, don't let him bite, oh my god" then I take him for her and he's. Fine. Calms down instantly. Someone get this lady a Xanax rx please 😆
Anyways I was like. Yeah but it'll also be like 50 degrees. They are outside 24/7 when most of the other boarders are stalled and people put 3 heavy weight blankets on them when it's 20 degrees out. Like. Sorry just, Lmao. This is why domestic horses are so prone to injury and illness, because owners pamper them like they're toddlers made of glass. They're fuckin farm animals. My girls were outside in the -20 wind chill storm we had and SURPRISE they were fine bc they had hay and a shelter from the wind.
Tl;dr my horses are much tougher and healthier than most others bc they're outside all the time and I don't lock them inside a box during every light drizzle. And I won't apologize for that.
Not that I'm judging (I definitely am) but the "barn manager" has a shitload of horses that get extremely minimal turnout and thus extremely minimal direct contact with other horses. Then she complains constantly about how they're neurotic assholes and can't lunge calmly and play rough during the 2 hours a day they get to play out in a paddock. Oh but their papers make them fancy I guess 🤪
1 note · View note
Text
The "Fix" for 6v6
"6v6 this, 5v5 that. How do we fix this? Can it be fixed? I long for the days of OW1-"
Tumblr media
Alright! Alright.
Fine.
I am a shameless 6v6 advocate (an Oldhead, if you will) and miss the days of double Tank that expressly allowed me to work with a Teammate to keep my squishies alive-
-or feed my brains out charging the front lines as a giant 9f armoured mess of a german yelling "Beer!" just before I'm flayed by focus fire.
That very specific feeling is a microcosm of all that it meant to Tank in a game like Overwatch. It is a feeling that celebrated the comforts and joys of limited engagement onto the enemy, so that you could provide maximum protection and safeguarding for your team.
There's nothing quite like pulling off a Winston Bubble-Nuke, Earthshattering a nano'ing Genji in your backline for the split second he's forced to touch the ground, or Halting some poor schmuck off the map as Orisa (the only vaguely enjoyable mechanic out of her Overwatch 1 kit).
And when I say "There's nothing" I genuinely mean, nothing.
None of that made the transfer over to Overwatch 2 for a variety of reasons. Damage Mitigation resources just can't be spent in those flashy ways anymore, while Support abilities make a mockery of every Earthshatter you might throw out there.
And Halt? Well that's just not in the game anymore.
sigh
This is Nostalgia, mind you. Nothing to be done there, beyond reminisce. A bit of the old ways while I dribble around looking for my first rocking chair and the inevitable shotgun to be wielded against future zombies/mutants/guvernmints on my lawn-
Tumblr media
-except that would just keep my awake for the next few years trying to appease the Neurodivergence, screaming about pattern recognition and Game Design using as many firing neurons as possible.
So!
How to Build out a proper 6v6 Foundation:
The following is a small list of foundational changes from which, a Development Team could easily explore a re-structured 6v6 format that would also account for re-works and re-designs of varying quality.
(Or at least, the sorts of re-designs and re-works I would personally love to see but, would require this foundation to be possible.)
Each of these is meant to work in conjunction with one another, relaxing the more restrictive elements of the game to return a lot of the design potential needed to make really creative and engaging hero designs. Too much of that potential is locked up in large health, healing, and (potential) damage values.
(Note: Beyond the below changes, removing any and all Role Passives while reverting the Season 9 changes, except for the projectile sizes, would be necessary for any of this to work as intended.)
Let's get stuck in:
1 - Decrease Hitboxes for Hero models
This one is fairly simple. Reduce visual clutter by decreasing the over all volume of hitboxes within any given match. This would include not just the hitboxes of the Heroes themselves, but also any deployables and visual effects for abilities they would have.
It would not need to be drastic.
5% for Supports, DPS, and Junkerqueen (except for those whose hitboxes are already small I.E - Kiriko, Baby Dva, Illari, and Tracer).
10% for all other Tanks.
Maintaining the projectile size increase from Season 9 + reducing overall Hitboxes, allows for body shot potential to remain relatively easy, while increasing Critical Shot difficulty slightly.
2 - Provide all Heroes with 'Squishy' Health
Rather than attempt to reduce Tank Health (which promotes a lopsided degree of survival across individual Tanks), all Heroes in every Role should be given somewhere between 50 - 250 standard health
Tumblr media
This sets a firm, reflexive, understanding whenever a hero is vulnerable; either by operating in a vulnerable state to begin with in the case of many DPS and most Supports?
Or by damaging a Tank enough to put that Tank into their vulnerable or 'Squishy' health.
If all heroes can be measured inside the Squishy range, then every player in a given match has the potential to calculate the use of resources and values necessary to secure an elimination. Tanks are no longer relegated to such an extreme separation in Health states that they require their own separate calculations from enemies and allies.
With standard health universalized, Tanks are now free to be Tanks based on what type of Damage Adjustment Health they have (Armour, Shield, Overhealth, etc.)
Turn Overhealth into a Damage Adjustment Health type as well (call it Resilience or something) and give it to any Tank that uses Healing as a sustain mechanic (Roadhog, Junkerqueen, Mauga, any future Tanks with Healing Sustain).
Give Damage Adjustment Health different sound effects for when they take damage (metallic pings for Armour, digital 'woops' for Shields, etc.), to easily tell when dealing damage switches between the Tank's protective health and their Squishy health.
What this accomplishes:
Healers use less resources to get their Tanks back into their Damage Adjustment Health, increasing independence for Tanks and Supports both.
Tanks have significantly more Damage Adjustment Health, but, overall, less total Health (Rein would be 200 Health + 250armour = 450 Total Health).
Damage Mitigation design can be strengthened, improving Tank's active survival mechanics, rather than the boring/sustain of high health pools
Increased health consistency across all Roles, improves both player understanding and learning of the game's basics.
Reduced need for heavy handed CC/Debuff effects to punish Tanks.
3 - Universalize AoE Healing with Single Target
All Healing should have a percentage decrease, depending on how many Heroes are receiving healing from the same source.
Single Target healing will always receive 100% of the healing source
Ex. Ana Biotic Rifle or Mercy Healing Beam will always do 100% of their healing, before modifiers.
If a source of healing would affect multiple heroes, the source is reduced by 15% per target included in the Area of Effect.
Ex. Baptiste's Regenerative Burst would do 100% of the healing if no one but Baptiste is in the Area of Effect. It would do 85% with one(1) other Teammate in the AoE, and 70% if two(2) other teammates were in the AoE.
The lowest any healing could go (before modifiers) would be 50%.
Ult charge would remain largely unchanged, making AoE Healing's benefit fixed more on building more ult charge off of multiple heroes affected, while single target healing would benefit from higher healing output at source.
What this accomplishes:
Reflexive counterplay embedded in Damage vs. Healing values, further prioritizing of targets for both sides, that rewards good choices, positioning, and resource management.
Promotes the use of utility, alternative sustain mechanics, and survivability effects and their executions in non-Tanks.
Alleviates the stat creep of Healing, both in speed of application and total amount delivered.
And lastly (DPS players, the spoiled brats that they are, will probably hate this, but it's necessary):
4 - Turn Critical Modifiers into a Percentage based on Range (maybe, Travel Speed as well)
Critical hits will now be measured based on where a Hero's fall off range begins and provided a certain percentage based on that range (adjusted based on kit and Design Structure).
Falloff below 20 metres = 30 - 50% critical modifier
Falloff between 20 - 40 metres = 50 - 75% critical modifier
Falloff between 40 - 60 metres = 75 - 90% critical modifier
All damage output with Critical Option, will now be subject to the range at which the Hero doing the damage, operates at across all Roles.
Close ranged DPS (Reaper, Tracer, etc.), benefit from a larger critical hitbox on their opponent and do not need excessive critical damage to be a threat.
Longer ranged DPS, must hit a smaller critical hitbox on their opponent, rewarding higher critical damage for successful shots.
(Note: Projectiles will always be 100% of damage, due to travel speed and the more inconsistent nature of their application, though it might be worth testing this out using the above values as a range measurement)
What this accomplishes:
The lowering of Potential Damage, rather than Base Damage, strengthens access between lower level and higher level play, rewarding better positioning, game-sense, and non-mechanical knowledge, much earlier in the rankings.
Skillful play is segregated based on value extracted across Heroes (and Players) and their preferences, rather than on general optimization. Hero skill expression is much more rewarding, rather than Hero selection.
One-shots are heavily reduced to only the highest ends of Hero/Kit expression, allowing for significantly improved Kit Design for those heroes who relied on them to be useful (Widow, Hanzo, Roadhog, etc.)
Non-critical option Heroes no longer need excessive Damage output to compensate for the missing Potential Damage (Junkrat, Pharah, etc.).
Base Damage can be balanced across a wider range of numbers from patch to patch, hero to hero (no more 0.5 adjustments).
Damage Modifiers are now universalized with Critical hits as a total percentage, easing the calculations needed during fights.
Damage Amplification effects are far more tolerable for all heroes and can be much more easily balanced
Whew! A lot to work with, but overall, the above should be codable based on a variety of other examples that have already been included in the game at one point or another in it's history.
As a foundation, this would serve to place the entire cast into a baseline state of
"Everyone can be vulnerable, everyone can be healed, every can do damage, but it's up to the Player to execute for the win."
All while maintaining their Role's preference for How to execute.
1 note · View note
mbb-project-entity · 1 year
Text
Chapter 34
Tracey pulled her Mercedes into the garage next to her daughter’s Audi and hit the button to close the garage door. The rattling of the shutter announced to her Saint Bernard, Max, that she was home. As soon as she walked through the door, he jumped up and showered her with kisses.
“Down, boy,” Tracey laughed. “Go find April!” Max turned and ran off towards the living room.
Hanging her keys on the hook by the entrance, Tracey flipped through the mail that April had left for her in the mail slot below the keys. There was a bill from Saks Fifth for a suit she’d bought the other week and a letter from her alumni group. Thanks to her daughter, Tracey hadn’t seen a piece of junk mail in years, she’d almost forgotten that it existed.
Heading through the breakfast nook and into the pristine white kitchen, Tracey picked up the watChloeg can off the marble counter top, and filled it up in the kitchen sink. She watered the the plants on the kitchen windowsill, then went back into the breakfast nook and watered the flowers sitting in the middle of the table. A couple of leaves had started to brown and Tracey delicately pulled them off.
She glanced at Max’s water dish to make sure he still had some. There was a couple of hairs floating on the surface, so Tracey took it into the kitchen with her and dumped it out. She rinsed the dish in tap water a couple of times, then opened her refrigerator and got out the pitcher of filtered water. She filled Max’s dish and returned it to its spot, then put everything else away.
Her chores finished, Tracey headed into the living room, where she found her daughter, April, doing her homework. She was sitting on the floor and using the coffee table as a desk. Max was laying next to her with his head in her lap. The 50″ plasma screen TV was off as usual. Tracey wasn’t even sure why she had bought it. The two of them so rarely used it.
April was still in her school uniform, her legs were folded up inside of the long skirt. She had undone the buttons on her cuffs and rolled up the sleeves some. Her brown hair was tied up behind her head with a black scrunchy. She looked so studious.
As if she sensed Tracey’s presence, April greeted her mother without looking up. “How was you day, mom?”
“Not bad, lunch was a little weird.”
April put her pencil down and looked up. “Oh?”
“Yeah, the Asia branch had a horrible mishap and thousands of orders got mixed up. They’re usually the best branch. I don’t know what happened.” Tracey had a weird feeling that that wasn’t what was so troublesome about lunch.
“I’m surprised you made it home on time.”
“Well, I left my other projects half finished. I was just so tired from the whole Asia deal that once we got everything sorted, I just headed home. I’ll go in early tomorrow to finish the other stuff up.”
“You left something unfinished?”
Maybe that’s what was eating at her. Tracey hated the thought of tasks left being half done. “Well, I just wanted to get home to my baby.”
“Aww, thanks mom.”
“I wasn’t talking about you, I was talking about Max.” The two women laughed at Tracey’s joke. “How was your day?”
April pulled out several pieces of paper and handed them to her mom. “Another biology test, another 100.”
“That’s my girl!” Tracey handed the test back. “What are you working on now?”
“I’ve got a calculus test in two weeks and I’m studying up on it.”
“Good luck. Let me know if you need any help. Is there anything in particular you want for dinner?”
“Whatever you feel like making is fine with me.” Candice cocked her head, “And what are your plans, darling?”
“I was probably going to go home and do some studying. I have a test tomorrow.”
Candice laughed, “No, no, I mean your plans. You know, for the future. What are you wanting to do with your life?”
“Well, I’m majoring in criminal justice but I really want to continue with an advanced degree and see where it leads me. Maybe a judge or a federal agent?”
Candice rolled her eyes, “Geez, I’ve dealt with plenty of those in the past.” Gina didn’t know what that meant but she continued to listen. “Alright, look. I’d love to really spend some time with you and fuck your life up good, but I’m really busy with your fat aunt and she kinda distracted me with you and your slut mom over there.” Hannah grinned at the mention of her name. Candice turned back to Gina. “You’re done with college. It’s time to drop out.” Gina nodded. She figured it was time to let it go. “You have zero ambitions from now on. You’re as lazy as your fat aunt over there. In fact, you’re going to apply to McDonald’s tomorrow and work there until you retire. Sound good?” Gina nodded, curling her lip. Working anywhere sounded horrible but she knew she had to make some money. “Do you have any hobbies?”
Gina nodded, “Sure, I did competitive cheerleading in school. I like bike riding and spinning. I love reading and watching romantic comedies.”
Candice shook her head, “Forget all of that. Not anymore. In fact, you now hate all of those things. You like video games and that really it. You sit on your ass all day and play video games like a lazy little bitch, don’t you?”
Gina nodded, really wishing her Aunt Candice would wrap this up so she could go home and fire up her PC. She had lots of games she wanted to download.
“Oh, and, hey Hannah?” Candice called. Hannah looked up. “Who’s that guy I stopped out there in the driveway? He should still be waiting.”
Hannah peaked out the window. “Oh that’s Kaz. He’s one of our creepy overweight programmers that I can’t stand.”
“Perfect. Gina, Tony is your new boyfriend. He’s waiting outside to take you to his apartment. You’re completely in love with him. And, Hannah, he’s the son you’ve never had. You think he’s perfect for your darling daughter.” Hannah and Gina beamed, both thinking of Tony. “You’re going to get in the car with him and suck his little dick all the way home, sound good?”
“Of course!”
“Good girl. Now, whatever Tony likes, you like. Clear?” Gina nodded enthusiastically. Her life was improving by the minute. “He probably likes all that anime shit and comic books. If he likes it, you love it. He probably watches tons of porn too. You love porn.” It was true. Gina lived for Internet porn.
Candice figured her work was done. “Alright, say bye to your slut mommy. She’s gonna take the care home and book some more parties, are you?”
Hannah nodded, “Yeah, I’m gonna talk with some of the guys at my old job about making me a website with my stretched out pussy right on the front page!”
Candice laughed, “Wow, too much info! Shut up and leave.” Hannah turned and left. Gina said bye, but Hannah had orders and she shut the door behind her without responding to her daughter. Candice turned to Gina, “Your Prince Charming is waiting.”
As Gina skipped out to Tony’s beat-up old car, she called out to him, “This is Gina, your new girlfriend. Take her home and fuck her in the ass!” Tony made plans to do that. Gina ran up to him and wrapped her arms around him. Candice heard her saying something to him about pulling his dick out so she could suck it as she went around to the passenger side. Gina’s head disappeared below the window to blow the cock that had been in her mother’s ass less than an hour ago and Tony drove off.
0 notes
p-redux · 2 years
Note
It's has been that cold. Bullshit. We've been hiking and surfing. Stop with your lying. He looks terrible. Maybe was sick.if he wasn't positive he has no valid reason for postponing NZ and screwing over Graham and the crew there, except for his own screw up on travel which his production company not Starz is responsible for or he just wanted another vacation after 5 he's already had this year . He's suck, an idiot, or the usual narcissist. take your pick.
I just watched the move “Being the Ricardos” about Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz, so let me ‘splain some things, oh frothy one. 
Los Angeles finally got some sun the last few days, but up until then, for the past two weeks it was COLD and rained most days. Granted, when I say cold, I mean cold by L.A. standards. Most native Angelinos break out the parkas, wool scarfs, beanies, and mittens if it gets below 65, myself included. Having said that, the last few weeks have been in the low 50s AND raining. So, unless you’re from the Midwest, the East or a country with cold winters, NO ONE in L.A. has been hiking or surfing in the RAIN. Actually, let me take that back, the only people surfing are hard core surfers. And they wear wetsuits, when the freaking Pacific water is below 50, ya dope. I cannot stress enough how COLD and RAINY the last few weeks have been in L.A. I don’t remember a Christmas that actually felt like a Christmas and this one did, weather wise. We’re always saying “Aw, man why can’t we get a white Christmas like they write about in all those songs, it’s annoying that Christmas here is 75 degrees and sunny.” Well, THIS year it wasn’t your typical L.A. Christmas. 55 degrees and raining is practically snow here, okay. Have I made it clear how unseasonably cold it felt? 
So, don’t come to MY blog to call me a liar. The weather is nice NOW, but it was not for a few weeks. And that’s a FACT. Unless you’re from a place where it actually snows on Christmas, then by all means wear your bikini and go surfing and hiking in 50 degree rainy weather, ya freak. Everyone else was COLD and stayed inside. Capisce?
Tumblr media
As for Sam looking “terrible,” um, pretty much every man on this planet would kill to look this ☝ “terrible.” Sam looks great. Baby just has chapped lips, because as I said up above, it’s COLD in L.A. AND L.A. is extremely DRY right now. I’m lathering myself in cocoa butter, olive oil, and 30 year old Crisco, and barely making a dent in keeping my skin from cracking. So, no, Sam doesn’t look sick, he just needs someone to dab some Chapstick on those beautiful lips and some lotion on his angel face, and he’ll be juuuust fine.
And this 👇 pic was just posted a few hours ago, does Sam look “sick” to you? Or maybe you’re just proving that Extreme Shippers and disgruntled Ex-Shippers have bad eyesight and little working cognitive function, and they CONTINUE TO MISCONTRUE REALITY.
Tumblr media
Sam obviously had a GOOD REASON for postponing his trip to New Zealand and given he stayed in Los Angeles aka Hollywood aka the entertainment capital of the world, it would seem logical it was WORK RELATED. And had nothing to do with him being a “Covid-ridden idiot narcissist who needed another vacation” to paraphrase you. Trust me, anyone who came to L.A. the last few weeks looking for a warm, sunny holiday was sorely disappointed. 
Anon, if you think so badly of Sam, then WHY pay any attention to anything he does? You and yours are SO bitter and miserable. Find a fandom and a celeb that makes you HAPPY. 
So, I propose a New Year’s Resolution... take the stick out of your ass, step away from anything having to do with Sam, and go find something that puts a smile on your face. Novel idea, I know. 
47 notes · View notes
csykora · 3 years
Text
Suits and more polos that have flashed by me at inexplicable speeds today
The NHL has flung 31 outfits into the air to see what sticks the landing. Let us begin.
Tumblr media
1. Hampus Lindholm
Tumblr media
If The Mighty Ducks had never existed, this might be concept art that inspires the character of the popular mean kid in a teen sports movie. Is that intriguingly recursive, or exhaustingly self-referential? Does the journey matter, when either way the result is...kinda fine?
I will say it fits him well. I like a slightly loose, upper-third t-shirt sleeve. My likes and dislikes are many and minute.
2. Oliver Ekman-Larsson
Tumblr media
Now it begins. Listen, I can see what they're seeing: the fabric looks shiny, the cut looks slim, the shirt is not the shirt one expects under a suit coat.
I'll say the cut is...fine. It looks slim, because his body is quite slim, but it's cut enough bigger than his body that there's enough space in the shoulders, elbows, and from what I can tell at the hip and thigh as well for him to move inside it. The cuffs are just a smidge below where I like, but he may have done that on purpose because there are now shirt cuffs sitting below them.
I do not like that there are no shirt cuffs.
I do not like a sharply upturned lapel much, which is minor, but bothers me more because of the shine. This is almost certainly a high silk-content blend that I would appreciate on its own, I just think it should be allowed to drape and bend instead of making sharp points. Whatever. The real reason I am annoyed is the contrast between the rough-shine of the silk-wool woven and the sticky-matte look of the navy, probably cotton-polyester knit polo. The lightning isn't his fault so I won't dig into the color contrast, but I think the guys think tossing a polo under a suit jacket looks simpler, while I think it introduces new visual complexity.
3.
Tumblr media
has worn a color.
4. Vincent Trocheck
Tumblr media
Someone has de-aged Jay Beagle.
The fit is probably fit. I have no complaints about any of the fabrics or how they fit together. There is an overall effect. Is it a good one?
5. Max Domi
Tumblr media
Doesn't understand why the rest of your college creative writing workshop doesn't like his roman à clef about a young man who has oral sex with and gets dumped by a young woman and then has oral sex and falls in love with a young woman whose fashion sense is, like, alternative
6. Elias Lindholm
Tumblr media
50/50 between also looking like the guy in your creative writing workshop and looking like the guy who beats up that guy. Is it bad? No. Is it good? I think it's fine.
7. Nikita Zadorov
Tumblr media
The fit is fine, I guess. Big windowpanes are just hard to work with! I do think the shape of the lapel is a degree of difficulty move you maybe didn't need to make, because it introduces more lines running at wonky angles. A strict black-and-white feels less forgiving of that than if this were in muted colors. The combination of the big windowpane and the tiny tie pattern, and the unavoidable difference in the two shades of black which are both set against stark white, isn't bad. I mean, I don't like it, but it feels either dated to a specific time or a specific sub-genre, so I feel like it should go to a more goth official for review.
8. Gabriel Landeskog
Tumblr media
Physically, there's a nice amount of space in all those layers. Everything but the tie is solidly proportioned.
Otherwise, the layers are close in a way I find a bit visually busy. I don't love the number of different shades of black and different textures--the shiny jet black shirt seems...fine, but a little extraneous against the matte blue-black overcoat. A white shirt would look lovely.
9. Jamie Benn
Tumblr media
I am not going to insult people's looks just because they act like cocks. You might look back at #5 and quibble, but he insulted himself with that outfit.
The color combination here is fine. There's just one shade of charcoal and one shade of black, which aren't super close and don't conflict. The t-shirt isn't the worst, although maybe if he had tried on a suit shirt, he would have noticed that the suit does not fit.
The cuff is pretty big. I do not think it should be that far down his hand, especially when his elbow is bent. The shoulder pads and sleeve caps are doing something--my best guess is that the padding looks a bit bulkier than average now and the sleeve caps are both tightly angled vertically and set wider than the bones of his actual shoulders, so the seam is hanging off him. I think the project--trying to "compensate" for natural round shoulders--is a poor one, but he also might have been somewhat more effective in what he was trying for if the shoulder pad and sleeve seam were sitting on a suit shirt sleeve cap that was close to the same shape, instead of a structureless t-shirt.
We'll head to intermission tied at "sure, fine."
62 notes · View notes
lumosinlove · 4 years
Text
Coast To Coast
part iv
(Takes place just before Sweater Weather part xiii’s trip to Florida...and everything else.)
Gryffindor, 2019
Finn knew that it was natural, to be homesick. He remembered being homesick, calling his brother before he had any real friends on the team, just to have another, familiar voice to listen to while he heated up some take-out leftovers in the microwave. But it was different, watching Leo go through it.
“It’s just the cold,” Leo always said with a little shrug, gathering his sweatshirt in his hands, but Finn knew that wasn’t just it. They were about three months into the season, right when the newness had started to ware off for him, too, and Finn could tell that, even if Leo was enjoying himself, he got down at night. He’d go out onto their balcony, bundled to all hell despite it being what Finn considered a relatively mild 50 degrees, as if to recreate some heat, and look up.
Finn usually sat inside, but tonight he followed him.
“Big city, huh?” he said, handing Leo a cup of hot chocolate. At Leo’s suspicious look, he laughed. “I can make this! My brother taught me when I was little.”
“Why do I feel like you had this for dinner sometimes before I came along to cook for you,” Leo smiled into the mug, and took a sip. “Hm. Alright, it’s good.”
“Damn,” Finn said, leaning against the railing, “Nut approved. Knapproved.”
Leo winced, murmuring a, “Please no,” but he laughed anyway and took another sip.
The sound of the city below them seemed far away just then. The lights reflected up and into Leo’s blond hair, flashing red and blue across his face. Finn could only just make out the small patch that was streaked with gray in the dim light. Not for the first time, Finn wanted to reach out and brush his fingers through it.
“Can’t see the stars here,” Leo said suddenly. He glanced down at the lights below them, then back up to the sky. “Not like you can at home.”
Finn looked up. “Guess I never thought about it. Can’t see them in New York really.”
Leo didn’t reply, and Finn looked over at him. His brows were drawn together and he was clutching his cup close to his chest.
“I used to have those those little stars, though,” Finn said quickly. Suddenly, he would do anything to get rid of the hurt etched on Leo’s face. “You know, the ones you stick on the ceiling that glow in the dark? Had those when I was a kid.”
That drew a small smile from Leo, and the knot growing in Finn’s chest loosened a little. “Yeah?”
Finn moved closer to him. Even upset, Leo radiated a stable sort of force that Finn felt at home in.
“Yeah,” Finn said softly. “We could get those. In your room, I mean. Or anywhere. Or, like, string lights. Live your best college life and get string lights. I swear to God, there were more string lights in me and Tremz’s frat house than there were, like, dishes. People. One night stands. Those are…sort of star-like.”
Finn watched Leo nod slowly, eyes still on the sky. He blinked a few more times, as if considering the stars, and then turned to Finn.
“I’d like that, Harzy.”
The knot loosened further, and Finn smiled, putting a hand to Leo’s shoulder over his sweatshirt. “We’ll get them tomorrow. After practice.”
“Bringing the stars to me, eh?”
“I’d get you some real ones if I could,” Finn said immediately, and then clamped his mouth shut. That sounded too—too close to what was really happening inside of him.
Leo looked at him, too, eyebrows drawn together.
“What?”
“Like—” Finn turned to face forward, eyes flicking over the city. “Like real stars? Like—gas. But in a safe way.”
Leo stared at him for another second, and then laughed, nose scrunching. “Safe gaseous stars, huh?”
“Yeah,” Finn drummed his fingers against his cup. “I mean, supernovas are pretty, too.”
“You’re not wrong,” Leo leaned against the railing, staring down.
Finn hesitate only a second, watching the tense curve of Leo’s shoulders rise as he took a large breath, and then leaned beside him, shoulder to shoulder.
“Want to talk about it?” Finn said quietly.
Leo raised a shoulder. “Just hard sometimes. Don’t get me wrong, I love it here. Gryffindor, the Lions, living with you. I don’t know what I would be doing right now if I was just in some hotel room by myself.”
Finn laughed. “Yeah, that’s not a fun part of this. I’m glad I could help you skip that. I…” Finn shrugged. “I don’t know what I’d be doing all alone, either.”
Leo was silent, brows scrunched like he was thinking about something, trying to figure something out. Finn watched carefully, using the view of the city as an excuse. Through the reflecting lights, he noticed the fine strands of grayish hair that mingled with the blond, right at the front of Leo’s forehead again.
“You hit your head?” Finn asked before he could stop himself.
Leo looked at him. “What?”
“Here,” Finn reached up and brushed his fingers over the hair near one temple. It was soft, like he had thought it would be.
“Oh,” Leo nodded minutely. “I fell on our boat when I was five. It was pretty bad.”
“You have a boat?” Finn said. He was close enough to feel Leo’s soft breathing now. He hadn’t known when they had moved, or who had moved first, but Leo’s eyes were flicking between Finn’s eyes and his mouth, drawing Finn’s to do the same.
“Yeah,” Leo whispered.
Finn’s mouth felt dry. “Can I come on your boat?”
“Yeah,” Leo smiled a little, but his eyes were serious, curious. “Finn…”
“Yeah?” Finn whispered back.
He watched Leo swallow, wetting his lips as he chose his words. “Are,” he began. “Are you going to kiss me?”
Even as he said it, Leo ducked down a little, like he couldn’t help it, and their lips brushed. It sent a strange mixture of emotions through Finn. Guilt and want turned into confusion, which was pushed away by Leo’s blue, comforting eyes, reflecting brightly in the dark.
“Can I?” Finn asked, and even then, Leo’s hand was curling around the back of his neck.
“Yes,” Leo managed to breathe out before their mouths were pressing together, Finn’s heart leaping. Leo kissed soundly, like each one of his movements had a purpose.
Finn couldn’t help but think of Logan, who kissed with a burning fever. The two mingled together in his brain for a moment, but the more Leo kissed him, the more he felt a calm wash over him. It was nothing like he’d ever felt before, and it was something Finn only associated with Leo. If Logan was a hurricane, keeping him close, Leo was a steadily rocking boat, lulling him and pulling him like a tide.
Finn craved—both.
Fuck.
How does a hurricane meet a tide, and what did that make him?
Finn made a noise when Leo’s other hand pressed around his back, making Leo gasp in return. Finn pressed his free hand to Leo’s chilly cheek, and licked into his mouth, letting himself be pressed against the railing by Leo’s lean body. He could smell the chocolate rising with the steam from their cups, and he didn’t think he’d ever smell that scent the same way again. Chocolate, once meaning snow and skating, meant Leo now. The same way that rum and sugarcane meant Logan.
“Finn—” Leo gasped. “Finn.”
“Is this a lot?” Even as he said it, they pressed together for a last kiss. “Sorry, fuck.”
“No, no, this is amazing,” Leo laughed, running a hand through his hair. “Fuck me, I’m kissing Finn O’Hara, but…”
Finn’s stomach flipped. “But?”
“Logan,” Leo said simply.
Finn’s eyes widened. “You like Logan?”
Leo raised an eyebrow, confused. “You like Logan.”
“Oh.”
Leo blinked at him. “Right?”
“I…It’s more—it’s…more complicated than that. Hang on, how the fuck?”
“What?”
“How the fuck did you know?”
“You…I don’t know I just,” Leo shrugged, setting his drink on the railing. “Maybe it’s because I’m gay, too, I see the way you look at each other.”
“I’m not gay,” Finn said.
Leo looked at his mouth, still red from making out.
“No, no,” Finn laughed. “I mean like—you’re hot, but June’s hot. Kasey’s hot, and Natalie’s hot…everyone’s really hot.”
Leo’s eyes widened. “June.”
“No, no, no,�� Finn shook his head. “That’s different.”
“What?”
Finn groaned, rubbing a hand over his eyes. He set his drink beside Leo’s, turning to face the city for a moment, and then looked at Leo again. “June’s not my girlfriend.”
Leo shook his head slowly. “Um. Okay, we’ll come back to that later but, you might want to let some people know that. Like Logan. Like—”
Leo swallowed. Like me. He couldn’t help but feel like a weight had been lifted and placed on his chest at the same time. Finn kissed him. Finn wanted him? He didn’t know.
“I know, that’s why I’m stupid.”
Leo took a step back, out of Finn’s reach. “Why did you kiss me?”
Finn’s cheeks flushed in the darkness. “It’s—complicated.”
Leo stared at Finn, his blue eyes confused and a little guarded now that they were talking rather than kissing.
“This is a lot of information,” Leo said slowly, and Finn nearly whined.
He clutched at his chest. “Yeah, well it’s a hell of a lot of feelings, too.” He paused, staring at Leo. “I don’t know what’s going on. My brain’s a lot. So is my—” Finn blinked, and suddenly his eyes were shining, voice cracking. “So is my heart. Leo, I—”
Leo looked at Finn. Finn reached out, and then moved to pulled his hands back to his chest.
But Leo caught them. “Just talk to me, Harzy.”
Finn’s hands squeezed his own, a surprised little pulse. “Logan never wants to talk about it.”
Leo’s heart pounded as he held Finn’s hands in his own. “If he’s scared…of course he doesn’t.”
Finn nodded and then looked down, eyes searching. “In…in college, we sort of…yeah.”
“Are either of you out to anyone?”
“I’m not,” Finn sighed. “Well, you two. I don’t think Logan is either.”
“You don’t know?”
“Like I said,” Finn said. “We don’t talk about this stuff.”
Leo nodded slowly. “Well…yeah, then all he’s got is the scary stuff, right? Coming out? Scary. Talking about it from one NHL player to another? Scary as fuck.”
“But you can talk about it.”
Leo smiled, small and endearing. “My family knows.”
Finn stared up at him. “How did you know they’d…”
“I didn’t,” Leo shook his head. “Even when they had the best fucking reaction in the world I still didn’t believe it. But they proved it to me, you know?” Leo glanced at his bracelet, and Finn’s eyes followed. “And suddenly it didn’t matter so much that I would have to hide going into the League. I felt like I could make it happen one day, coming out, even if it isn’t while I’m an eighteen year old rookie,” Leo’s eyes were serious and he squeezed Finn’s hands. “My point is…the people who will be horrible…they’re one sort of demon when you’re alone. It’s a different story when you know, like, sure fucking fact know, that people love you.”
“Lo…” Finn nodded slowly. “Lo doesn’t know?”
Leo shook his head. “Harzy…you don’t know, either.”
“Me?” Finn said. “I—I mean, I…” Finn cleared his throat. “I want to talk about it.”
“And you haven’t been able to,” Leo took a step closer, hand on Finn’s shoulder. “And—you know, I understand if…if you’re just frustrated with Logan and…” Leo took a breath, heart squeezing painfully. “Yeah, like, Harzy, I’m always here to talk to.”
Leo could be an outlet for Finn. He could do that.
Finn looked down at Leo’s hands cradling his. “Logan and I, there are years there. We’ve been skating around each other for…God. Knutty,” Finn looked up at him. “I’ve been in love with Logan for seven fucking years. I thought something was wrong with me when I started…” Finn just looked at Leo, eyes pleading, as if needing him to understand something.
Leo nodded silently, aching. That was history. That was history that had bones, history that had gears that ran one way and one way only. Finn’s it’s complicated kiss to Leo was nothing more than Finn being fed up. Leo didn’t blame him. Everyone needed someone.
“Right,” Leo managed. “Have you told him that? That you love him?”
Finn shook his head. “Not—Fuck, only barely and when we were fighting about it.”
“You need to tell people you want them, Harz, if you want to be with them.”
Finn chewed on his bottom lip. “Yeah, I do. Yeah. You’re right.”
Leo wanted to pull away then. This was exactly what he had always been afraid of, only worse. He didn’t just like a teammate, he liked two teammates who liked each other. Not him.
“Well, maybe while we’re in Florida or something, huh?” Leo tried to laugh and stepped back. He wanted to go inside. He wanted to close the door of his room. He could make an excuse, that he had to pack for the roadie to Florida tomorrow. Maybe cry for a little and then go to sleep. Maybe call his mom, just let it out.
He sighed, thinking about that call. Hi mama, yeah, remember my home and roadie roommates? Well, I really like them. They love each other. I did exactly what I said I wouldn’t do. Doubled. Isn’t that fantastic?
“It’s cold,” Leo rasped out, ducking away from Finn. “We should go inside.”
“Leo—”
“I’ll take our cups in,” Leo snatched the mugs from the railing, before disappearing through the sliding glass door.
Leo dumped them in the skin, hearing Finn walk carefully into the house behind him and close the door. He watched what was left of the dark chocolate seep down the drain for a moment, and then turned around. Finn was staring at him with a funny expression on his face. Leo, with the tears threatening in his throat, couldn’t stick around to figure it out.
“Night, Harz,” he said, and turned away. “Thanks for the stars.”
Leo’s bedroom felt chilly as he closed the door. He sat on his bed and pressed his elbows to his knees.
He had wanted to help his friend. That’s all this had to be. He let out a long breath, cheeks blowing out as his eyes burned. Blinking hurriedly, he picked up his phone. He pushed his hair back from his forehead and found his mom’s contact. He could be quiet. Finn wouldn’t listen, Finn wasn’t nosey like that—
There was a knock on his door and Leo froze, thumb still hovering over the call button, tears in his eyes. He felt seconds away from breaking down, and even the thought of speaking right now made him choke up with tears.
“Um,” his voice wavered and he let out a shaking breath. Fuck. “Just a sec.”
“Nut?” Finn’s voice came through the door.
“Yeah, hold on,” Leo wiped his face with the hem of his sweatshirt and sniffed. He looked at the mirror on his way to the door, but what was he suppose to do about his red eyes? He turned off his overhead light and flicked on his dimmer bedside one instead. He opened the door.
“Hi,” Leo said, and cleared his throat.
Finn walked right in and sat on the edge of his bed. He looked possibly more freaked out than he had before.
“Can you—sit?” Finn asked, looking at him carefully.
Leo wiped a hand over his nose in a way that he hoped wasn’t obvious and sat beside Finn, trying to ignore the way his heart pulled towards him.
“What’s up,” Leo said softly.
Finn didn’t speak for a few moments. He was rubbing his hands against the thighs of his sweatpants, and chewing on his lower lip.
“You said—” he began, and then laced his fingers, looking down at them. “I should tell the person I like, that I like them…”
Leo nodded. He tried to focus on anything but the heat radiating off of Finn through his sweatshirt.
“What if…” Leo heard Finn swallow before continuing. “What if it’s…persons. What if I like…persons?”
A sort of chill ran through Leo’s body, goosebumps raising on his neck. He could have shivered, if not for Finn.
Finn turned towards him. “Knutty.”
Leo didn’t look. He couldn’t look. He kept his eyes on the ground, eyebrows drawing together in attempt to fight off his suddenly growing hopes.
“Leo,” Finn said again, and then his hand was on Leo’s cheek, turning his face towards him. “Leo, do you understand?”
Leo looked at him, barely daring to breathe.
“Is that even allowed?” Finn sucked in a breath. “Is that horrible of me?”
Leo felt shaky. “Me?” he whispered.
Finn nodded hurriedly, hand moving to the back of Leo’s neck. “You.”
“Me and Logan?”
“Yes,” Finn whispered again, and then his hands dropped away. “God, that’s so…fuck, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, what the fuck do I expect you to do with that?”
“Yes,” Leo said. The word felt like it tore from his lungs, and Finn looked up. They stared at each other.
“What?” Finn said.
“I—yes.”
“You mean…Logan? You like Logan?”
Leo couldn’t help but laugh at the question, even if it was choked off. He pressed his thumb and forefinger to his eyes briefly before nodding. He thought of Logan, asleep in the bed beside his on the road, permanent crease between his brows. He thought of his bright smile, rare lately, and the way he leaned into Leo, fitting into his body so easily on nights out when he’d had too much to drink. He thought of that strange, almost kiss, not three nights ago. He thought of watching Logan and Finn, sometimes from afar, sometimes from just across the table. He thought of the confusion that came with being pulled in two directions at the exact same time.
“Yes,” he said. “Fuck, I thought I was just…I felt so stupid. I told myself I wouldn’t get attached to any teammates ever. It would just be too hard. I knew it was hard, I’ve done it, and I never wanted to feel like that again.”
“Nut…” Finn said softly.
“But then you and Logan just show up and…Jesus, Harzy,” Leo shook his head. “What am I suppose to do?”
Finn’s eyes were wide, and then he let out a laugh. “What? Knutty, are you fucking kidding me?”
Leo laughed, too, shaking his head, tears back in his eyes.
“Oh my god, Nut,” Finn breathed, and then he had Leo’s face between his hands. “Oh my god…”
Finn’s kiss was bruising, and Leo held on tight for it, feeling every inch of tension uncoil from his shoulders.
FinnFinnFinnFinnFinn—
And Logan. Logan, hurting and not with them. Leo wanted him there.
“What if he says no?” Finn said suddenly. “Lo always said—he always said he never wanted to hide.”
Finn’s nervousness made Leo jumpy all over again. Now that they’d said it aloud, he ached for them. Both of them.
“You’ve seen him lately,” Finn said. “One second it’s like it has always been and the next…he can’t even look at me.”
“June,” Leo reminded Finn with a raised eyebrow, and Finn groaned, forehead against Leo’s shoulder.
“Fuck me,” Finn sighed. “How do I even begin to explain it to him, he’s going to murder me. In French.”
Leo laughed softly, and then, realizing that he could, wrapped an arm around Finn and pressed a lingering kiss to his forehead. Finn practically melted into it, and so Leo did it again, this time against his temple, then again on his cheek. Finn made a little noise that Leo swore was going to turn his heart inside out. He laughed as Finn all but burrowed against his chest, basically forcing himself into Leo’s lap. Leo pet a hand through his hair, Finn’s head resting in the crook of one of his elbows, the rest of him splayed the wrong way on the bed, feet by Leo’s pillows.
“Sweetheart,” Leo whispered before he realized, but he’d do it again to see the way Finn practically swooned. Finn reached a hand up, tracing Leo’s jaw lightly.
“I see the way he looks at you,” Finn said softly, fingers brushing Leo’s mouth. “Broke my fucking heart for a while. At least until—until I started looking at you that way, too. Fuck me, I didn’t understand it at all. Who does this? Who wants two people at once?”
Leo raised a shoulder. “We do. Who cares about the rest?”
Finn stared up at him. “We—we can do this? We can be together.”
Leo nodded, smiling. “We can.”
“I just—We need to talk to him.”
“I think you should talk first,” Leo said, leaning into Finn’s touch. “Like you said. You two have a lot of history. That means a lot of conversation. And…that first part doesn’t really involve me.”
Finn chewed on the inside of his cheek. “He could still say no.”
“Well…I know he loves you, and…and I also know he very nearly kissed me the other night.”
Finn’s eyes widened. “Oh, man. Logan is a specialist in almost kissing. Fuck.”
Leo laughed and ducked for a kiss of his own. “I thought it was just you two taking your frustration out on someone else. But…maybe not.”
“Maybe not? Nut, come on.”
“You gotta explain that you don’t have a girlfriend—I’d also like an explanation by the way, like, I really like June, but she also sort of stomped on my heart and dick.”
A sly smile curled at one corner of Finn’s mouth. “Dick, huh?”
Leo looked away, grinning. “You sure are sweet, Harzy. Doesn’t help that I get to see you swinging around the locker room every day while you strut around naked.”
Finn sat up a little, hand curling around the back of Leo’s neck. “Oh yeah? Says the guy with the mile long fucking legs. Nut. Come on. How am I suppose to think away a hard-on while staring at those things?”
Leo snorted. “I thought I was an octopus.”
“You are,” Finn whispered, and then pulled Leo down and kissed him, then laughed into his mouth, letting his head fall back against Leo’s thighs and staring up at him. “Well, this is not what I expected when I brought you hot chocolate.”
“What, you don’t ask someone out every time you bring them a Starbucks or something?”
“Knowing me, you’d think I might,” Finn reached for Leo’s hand, holding it against his chest. “But no, that’s just you.”
“And Logan,” Leo smiled as Finn did. “Maybe you should bring him a coffee, or something.”
“You mean a sickly sweet—whatever he drinks. It’s not fucking coffee, that’s all I know.”
Leo pushed his hand through Finn’s dark red hair. “Harz, I hope this…I really want this.”
Finn closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into Leo’s touch, before he was sitting up suddenly. Leo laughed as Finn pushed him back against the bed, thighs on either side of Leo’s hips. Finn kissed him, hands on his chest, and Leo sunk into it.
“Me too,” Finn mumbled against his mouth. He trailed his mouth down to Leo’s jaw, lips soft. “Imagine if he was here.”
Leo couldn’t help the sigh, breathy and needy, that escaped as he fisted the back of Finn’s sweatshirt.
Finn pressed his hand to the other side of Leo’s neck, rubbing his thumb over the tendon softly. “There’s more of you to be kissed, huh?”
The thought of both Finn and Logan, kissing him, touching him—
He felt Finn laugh into his mouth as he pressed their hips together against Leo’s stiffening cock. “Hi, there.”
Leo groaned. “It’s been like— forever, okay? Forever. Once the NHL was interested I didn’t wanna risk—” Finn pushed down against him then, making Leo’s mouth drop open. “And you’re Finn O’Hara and you’re kissing my neck…”
Finn sucked gently on Leo’s throat. “Maybe we should end that forever.”
Leo let out a laugh that was half moan. Leo could feel Finn getting hard, too, and he was suddenly dizzy with him.
“Aw, Knutty,” Finn sounded a little breathless. “I like you turned on. That’s something I haven’t seen before.”
Leo’s cheeks were hot. “Yeah?”
Finn’s smile was soft. “Hey, kiss me again.”
Leo leaned up and tugged gently on Finn’s bottom lip with his teeth, watching his eyes widen with their noses brushing.
“Leo,” Finn’s voice was high with surprise and pleased sounding, muffled by Leo’s mouth.
Leo kissed him once, then rested his head back on the bed. “I…do you…” he glanced down at their hips where he could see the outlines of their cocks against their sweatpants.
Finn, poised on top of Leo, swallowed. “I’ve never…I mean, twice with Lo, but it was always—you know. Hands only. Kissing. Either we didn’t talk about it, or…I left for Gryffindor after the second time. It was,” Finn looked down at his hands, pressing a little on Leo’s chest. “I don’t know, we never even really took our clothes off and we were both sort of crying…”
Leo pressed up onto his elbows. “Finn…”
“I want to,” Finn said, looking at Leo with a small smile. “I want us to show him that it doesn’t have to be rushed and—silent.” Finn licked his lips, holding the one that had been between Leo’s teeth in his mouth for a moment, and then leaned forward, pushing Leo back down again and planting his hands on either side of his head. “Show me.”
A shiver went up Leo’s spine. He nodded, running his hands up and under Finn’s sweatshirt, palms smooth over the warm skin of his back.
“I am sort of half off the bed here,” Leo smiled.
“Huh?” Finn glanced behind him, at Leo’s legs still over the bed from when they had been sitting side by side. “Oh shit.”
Finn snorted as he scrambled up, landing with his back against Leo’s pillows. Leo stood, and looked. Finn’s mouth was kissed red, his hair was a mess. He would have looked sweet, if not for the fact that Leo could see his cock, tenting his sweatpants obscenely between his splayed thighs.
“Fuck, Harzy,” Leo said, rubbing a hand through his hair, pressing it over his hot neck.
“Can I…” Finn plucked at his sweatshirt.
“Let me,” Leo said, kneeling on the bed and walking himself slowly over and between Finn’s thighs. He sat back on his heels, coaxing Finn into a sitting position to. He leaned in and kissed him slowly.
“We have all night,” Leo reminded him softly, and then pulled away to lift Finn’s sweatshirt above his head. He had a gray Lions t-shirt underneath, and Leo bent to kiss what skin of Finn’s neck the sweatshirt had revealed, just above his collar, before pulling the t-shirt over his head, too.
Finn made a questioning noise, his hands on the hem of Leo’s sweatshirt.
“Yeah,” Leo said.
Finn pulled his lip between his teeth again. Leo’s t-shirt came with his sweatshirt, getting stuck for a moment and making them laugh, before they were both staring at each other, bare chested.
“You’re too tall like this,” Finn smiled, hands finding Leo’s bare waist and tugging. “Come closer.”
Leo eased Finn back against the pillows, balancing himself over him. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the center of Finn’s chest, letting his lips drag, and pressing another one over his sternum. He glanced up. “Better?”
Finn nodded hurriedly, hand going to Leo’s hair. “Better.”
Leo kissed his way down Finn’s chest, feeling it rise and fall quicker as he went. He kissed the strong flex of his abs, the light dips between his ribs, and finally, his hips, just above the band of his sweatpants. Leo looked back up at Finn and raised his eyebrow.
“Yes, I’m, oh fuck,” Finn was flushed down to his chest. “I might come in like—point two seconds, okay?”
“Be my guest,” Leo said, and began to tug Finn’s sweatpants down—no underwear. “Fuck, Harz.”
“I was being relaxed.”
Finn’s cock bobbed free, the head swollen and leaking. The sight made Leo’s throb. He let out a breath, and so did Finn.
Leo reached out and smoothed his hand around the base, watching Finn’s hips stutter at the almost contact. Finally, Leo wrapped his hand around him, and gave a single, dry, pull.
Finn groaned softly from the head of the bed. “Fuck, baby.”
Leo’s eyes snapped to him, but Finn didn’t look surprised or embarrassed. His mouth was dropped open and he held out his arms. Leo went willingly, surging up to kiss him hard while Finn yanked at Leo’s sweatpants and underwear, shoving it down his legs far enough to kick them off.
Then, it was just them. Their cocks pressed together and Finn’s eyes practically rolled. Leo bent to suck a bruise into the tender skin below his ear as he rutted down against Finn, spurred on by the feeling of Finn’s blunt nails digging against his back.
“Yes,” Finn’s voice punched out of him and Leo felt his heels on the back of his thighs.
“What do you want?” Leo asked, breathless. He pulled back some and kissed Finn. “We can do whatever you want.”
“This,” Finn said against Leo’s cheek, mouth falling open again and hand tightening in his hair. “I want this.”
“C’mere,” Leo said, and pulled at Finn’s hip.
“What, you’re tired?” Even turned on as all hell, Finn managed to joke.
Leo only got them onto their sides, legs tangled, before Finn was pressing them together again and moaning. It was all Leo could do to think clearly.
“You said to show you,” Leo panted. “I’m showing you that we have all night. That we can do whatever we want, that you have me—”
Finn pressed against him, cocks wet together, with a gasp.
“I’m going to come,” Finn whispered, voice shaking as he gripped Leo’s ass to press them together harder. It Leo groan as his hand slipped close to his entrance. Finn blinked at him, eyes dazed and bright.
“You—do you like—”
Leo nodded.
“Jesus.”
Leo pressed a lingering kiss to Finn’s mouth. “Would you do that for me, Harzy?”
Finn’s hips stuttered, eyes squeezing shut and he came between them with a cry, stripping Leo’s chest thickly.
The sight, Finn’s sloppy kiss, and his hand brushing over his crease, had Leo following. Leo reached between them and closed a hand around them both, working them through their orgasms. He swore Finn’s nails would leave marks tomorrow. He felt Finn’s hand press against his lower back, and had a sudden thought of a broader heat there—Logan. Logan’s deep voice in his ear, pressed all along his back, maybe even slipping inside of him—
Leo’s hips twitched as his cock valiantly spurt out nothing, pleasure wracking him all the same.
Finn was breathing hard, eyes closed and head fallen back against Leo’s arm on the pillows. Leo smoothed a hand up his chest, uncaring of the mess, and leaned over him, limbs heavy, to kiss his bared throat.
This was what Finn never had. This is what he and Logan never thought they could have. The very best part. Being together, sated and loving and close. Leo caressed his hip, and his strong shoulder, lips gentle all the while. He did it until Finn’s breathing slowly began to even out, until a tear appeared at the corner of his eye, and trailed slowly down his temple.
Leo kissed that, too.
“‘M—” Finn began, and his voice cracked. “Just relieved,” he rasped out. “Just, so…” he let out a breath, and opened his eyes, glassy and golden brown. “Leo.”
“I know,” Leo said, nodding quickly. “Believe me, I know.”
“I loved that,” A sleepy, almost loopy smile crossed Finn’s face and he laughed, another tear appearing. “Fucking Christ.”
Leo laughed, nudging his forehead into the warm space of Finn’s neck and closing his eyes. “Me too.”
He felt Finn’s arms wrap around him, squeezing tightly like Leo saw him sometimes do to other players during a celly on the ice.
“Can we snuggle?” Finn asked sleepily.
“We better,” Leo kicked the blankets out from beneath them, Finn reached for his sweatshirt, mopping their chests before throwing it away into the room. They stayed like that, Finn on his back, Leo nestled against him, ankles tangled.
When they woke up the next morning, Leo was still in Finn’s arms, his back to Finn’s chest, and Finn was kissing his neck.
“Two things on the to do list,” Finn whispered against his skin once Leo had hummed happily and pressed against him. “Get you some stars…”
Leo laughed and Finn’s arms tightened around him.
“And knock some sense into Tremzy.”
Leo smiled, looking at the empty space in front of him. They were leaving for Florida today. Leo could wait to see Finn and Logan in the sunlight.
322 notes · View notes
tchallasbabymama · 3 years
Text
M’Baku’s Love- Chapter 2
Sorry, had to repost it. For some reason it was all blacked out on mobile? Idk, it’s weird and I’m still trying to understand tumblr.
Anywho, here’s Chapter 2 of M’Baku’s Love. Check out my masterlist HERE to read chapter 1 if you haven’t already, and take a look at my other stories as well. As always, let me know what you think or if you want to be tagged in anything. Enjoy!
Word count: 2689
Tumblr media
M’Baku pulled up to the Outreach Center a little earlier than necessary on Tuesday. He got out the automated car and leaned against it, crossing his arms as he scanned over the building and its surroundings while reflecting on the mission at hand. If they were successful, thousands of Black children, millions if they expand, would be given a better education and connected to their old, pre-colonizer ways.
He smiled at the thought and turned to grab his things, when he noticed a small rainbow dash from the other side of the parking lot into the building. It took him a moment to process what he saw, but he realized it was Miss In a Hurry, rushing yet again. He smiled fondly and shook his head before heading towards the Outreach Center, opening the door and heading inside the cool, air conditioned building.
Once the chief settled in his office he went over the assistant files one more time, preparing for their interviews. He went over his upcoming day in his head and remembered that his meeting with the head of the Arts Department was at 11. He smiled to himself, dreamily, at the thought of her bright teal hair and her deep dark eyes, but shook himself out of it when he was interrupted by a knock at the door.
“Mr. M’Baku?” a tall, slender man who looked to be in his early twenties stood in the doorway dressed in slacks and a button-down.
“Yes, who is asking?”
“Deontae Greene, I’m here for my interview,” the young man introduced himself. They shook hands and the interview began. Truthfully, M’Baku didn’t need to interview the other candidates, he had already decided on hiring Deontae the moment his interview ended. He went through the motions of the second and third interview, focusing on the clock more than the interviewees. As soon as his third interview ended, he called Deontae to offer him the position, then went for a quick walk around the center to stretch his legs.
M’Baku found himself outside one of Shuri’s STEM courses, watching as the middle school aged children learned coding languages. She waved him in, and he tentatively stepped inside.
“Everybody, this is M’Baku. He’s the leader of the Jabari tribe in Wakanda.”
A chorus of “Hi M’Baku” erupted from the room, and he smiled before greeting them back.
“Mholo, children. What are you working on today?”
A little girl in the back with braces and pigtails was the first to answer.
“Princess Shuri is teaching us how to make computers work by telling it what to do in different computer languages.”
M’Baku looked at Shuri in confusion and she waved it off to explain later.
The large chief walked around the room to get a look at what they were doing, but quickly made it back to the front of the room when he caught a glimpse of the clock on the wall.
“I have a meeting, or I would stay longer princess.”
“Go, and don't be a stranger to this side of the center. Technology isn't all bad,” Shuri said with a wink as he left and shut the door behind him.
M’Baku’s long legs carried him back to his office in record time, where he was met with the sight of the head of the arts department sitting cross-legged in the chair outside his office, writing in a notebook.
“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, I wandered down to the STEM wing and lost track of time,” M’Baku rambled on until she looked up at him. Today she had on gold wire-rimmed glasses instead of her red cat-eye frames from the day before, and he liked that he could see her eyes better with this pair. When their eyes met his heart thumped a little louder and his skin felt a little warmer. He watched a small smile brighten up her face as she set her notebook down before unravelling her legs to stand up.
“I wasn’t waiting long. Plus it was your turn to be running late this time,” she responded. M’Baku gestured for her to enter the office first and she obliged before perching cross-legged in the chair across from him. He rounded the desk and sat down, looking into her eyes.
“I do not believe we were properly introduced to one another,” he held out his hand to her, shaking it from across the desk. “I am M’Baku, as you already know from yesterday.”
“Monae Johnson. It’s nice to officially meet you, M’Baku. And my apologies about the other day, I accidentally took a nap and woke up with barely enough time to- I’m rambling, my bad, I do that sometimes.” She rubbed the back of her head..
“It is no problem, really,” more than anything, M’Baku found her adorable.
“So did you end up trying the place I suggested?”
“Yes, I am actually glad you ran into me. I loved The V Spot. It was an excellent recommendation, thank you.” M’Baku had to give props where they were due and this woman definitely knew food. “You must tell me, what else is good in the area?”
“There’s so much! What do you like?”
“I am new to most cuisines, but I am open. Our meeting ends around lunchtime, would you care to accompany me and show me something I might like?”
Monae’s chest tightened up at his seemingly unintended double entendre. The man before her was fine as aged wine and she was having a very difficult time concentrating on the conversation, instead wishing she could see how soft his lips are. She looked down at the ring on her left ring finger and sighed, knowing she’d regret her decision.
“I’d love to.”
______
“You’re a vegan, right?”
“Vegetarian, but vegan is fine.”
“Ever tried Indian food?”
“I cannot say that I have.”
“Come on, there’s a place around here with some really good lunch specials. I hope you like it.”
“Well your last suggestion was superb, so I trust you,” he said with a wink. Monae blushed and turned away, but not before he noticed. M’Baku fought to contain his smile and cleared his throat. “So are you from Oakland?”
“Nope, I’m from Nashville. A southern girl at heart,” she said with her best southern debutante affectation. “I came to Cali for college and just never left.”
“What made you stay?”
“Honestly? It never gets cold here, not the type of cold that seeps into your bones anyway. The worst I’ve felt here is chilly. I’m not made for anything below 50 degrees.”
“As chief of the Jabari I must say I am a little offended, Miss Johnson.”
Monae’s face twisted up, but then softened when she saw the glint in his eye. Was he flirting?
“My apologies, your highness,” she said with a curtsey. “But I’ll admire it from afar.” Her ring flashed in her line of vision, but she shook it out of her mind.
“Besides, you are wrong. Anything over 40 degrees is unfit for habitation. The weather here makes me want to crawl into my refrigerator.”
Monae shivered at the thought.
The two of them arrived at Bombay Palace and since he trusted her judgement, she ordered for the table. The waiter took their menus and quickly brought their waters with lemon slices.
“Are you a vegetarian as well?”
“Um sometimes. I don't eat red meat, but I still eat fish and poultry on occasion. I’m mostly plant-based though. I read that the Jabari are pescetarian, what made you switch over?”
“You have been reading about us, eh?”
“Well I like to know who I’m working with, and I imagine that over the next few months we’ll be seeing a lot of each other, so yes I read about the Jabari.”
“Yes, I would hope so,” M’Baku said before taking a sip of his water while watching her. He noticed her shiver under his gaze and adjust herself in the booth and he smirked, knowing he was getting to her. “And I just do not like the taste of fish very much. Earlier you mentioned having a dance background, do you still dance?”
“I’m so busy I barely have enough time nowadays outside of teaching a class at the center here and there.”
The waiter returned with their samosa appetizer and Monae danced in her seat a little, making M’Baku crack a smile at her endearing antics. They both dug in, M’Baku immediately thanking Hanuman for the food he had received. The familiar yet unfamiliar tastes swirled around in his mouth like a gold medal ice skater at the winter olympics, and he couldn’t get enough.
“Mmm, what is this?”
“Samosas.”
“I could eat this for the rest of my life and die a happy man.”
Monae giggled and almost choked on her food, “This is just the first course, wait until you taste the paneer.”
The two of them continued to talk as more food came out, not watching the time at all.
“How does your family feel about you living so far away?”
“Well my little sister is in college at NYU, living her own life, and my parents died six years ago in a car crash, so they don't feel much of anything anymore.”
He was torn between laughing at her joke and feeling a deep sadness for her loss.
“What’s your family like?”
“I am the oldest of ten-”
“Ten?!”
“Yes.”
“Your poor mama...”
M’Baku’s laughter roared through the restaurant and forced a laugh out of Monae as well. Of course his laugh was as big as he was, and her mind briefly wondered if everything about him was proportional to his size before she was pulled out of her daydream by a ringing telephone. She looked down and her face dropped when she read the name on her screen. “Shit. Uh, sorry I have to answer this- Hi honey...yeah of course...uh-huh...no, just out at lunch with a colleague-”
He couldn’t believe his ears. He knew for a fact that she was flirting with him, yet here he was talking to her “honey.” He wanted to roll his eyes, but instead returned them to his bowl and kept eating.
“Hey, D, can I call you back? We’re just about done here...Ok, bye.” She hung up the phone and cleared her throat.
“Boyfriend?”
“Fiance actually,” she said, showing off the ring on her finger.
“Interesting…”
“What is?”
M’Baku leaned back in his chair and looked into her eyes as he spoke.
“I was not aware you were already spoken for.”
Something about the tone of his voice made her face heat up and she crossed her legs tighter.
“I have my ring on, what would make you think otherwise?”
“That right there,” he gestured to her flushed skin and fidgeting lower half. “You are awfully flirty for someone who is betrothed.”
Monae had hoped he wouldn’t notice and they could carry on like earlier, but the moment was ruined.
M’Baku looked at his watch, realizing they spent almost two hours at the restaurant. “We should get back to the center, I am sure we are missed.”
“M’Baku, I’m sorry to lead you on, but that wasn’t my intention, I just-”
“There is no need to explain, Monae.” He flashed her his gap-toothed smile and called for the waiter to bring their check. He paid, not without plenty of arguing on her end, and they headed back to work.
Shortly after he made it back to his desk the king and prince barged in.
“Soooo…?” N’Jadaka tried to get the conversation going, but M’Baku wasn’t following.
“How did it go?” T’Challa added.
“How did what go?”
The cousins looked at each other in exasperation, and yet again the hot headed prince pushed the issue further.
“Your date nigga! We saw you and Monae walking all close and shit.”
“It was not a date,” He loved the Udakus dearly, but Hanuman, they could be an annoying and intrusive bunch. “She is engaged.”
“Barely,” the cousins said with an eye roll.
“What do you mean ‘barely’?”
“My friend, she has been engaged for three years now with no wedding plans in place and he is almost never home. Like we said: barely.”
M’Baku would never knowingly break up a happy home, but he saw her body language on the phone and she didn’t seem to be as into her fiance as she was into him. Yes he was shiny and new, but the exasperation in her voice at his interruption told him what he needed to know.
“Far be it from me to advocate for adultery, but-”
“It ain't far from me, cuz,” N’Jadaka butted in. “Bak, that beautiful fairy of a woman likes your big ape ass for some reason. Fuck that nigga, she was looking at you like you’re already daddy.”
M’Baku looked over to T’Challa who was nodding in agreement. He had watched her during their department head meeting and every time M’Baku spoke she perked up and the tension fell from her shoulders. She was definitely feeling him.
“I have met this fiance just once and did not get a good vibe from him. I am not sure what it is yet, but there is something-”
M’Baku cut him off before he could even finish. He knew if he let them continue they would end up hatching a plan and roping him into it, so he nipped it in the bud.
“Do not worry about it, I would prefer to remain unattached for the short while I am here, anyway. Now if you know someone who would like something more casual, I would not mind meeting them at some point.”
“I’ll keep an eye out, brother”
“I think the newest history teacher is single, or at least there's no ring on her finger. I can’t remember her name though, is it Keisha? Naima? Whatever it is, she’s fine as hell,” N’Jadaka’s hands outlined her voluptuous body for him, which caught his interest. “I’ll see what I can do. We gon get you some pussy bruh, on Bast.”
T’Challa simply nodded in agreement again.
“Thank you both for your concern,” M’Baku responded dryly. “Now if you gentlemen would excuse me, I have to meet with the social studies department head in a minute.”
“We understand when we are not wanted, but please at least let N’Jadaka set you up. You need to get back out there again, it’s been more than enough time,” the king patted his friend’s shoulder before leaving the room, his cousin doing the same.
______
M’Baku’s last meeting didn’t end until 5 pm, and he was more than ready to get home, cook dinner, and watch a little more Fresh Prince. He packed up his things and headed out towards his car, when out of the corner of his eye he spotted Monae on the other side of the parking lot struggling with several boxes. He jogged over and took them from her hands.
“Here, let me.”
“How are you everywhere?” She laughed.
“You are just lucky, I guess.” He flashed her his million-dollar smile and she was hooked again. Derrick be damned.
“Yeah, I guess I am...um, thank you M’Baku...well uh, I should go. Busy day tomorrow with the open house and all.”
“Ah yes, what exactly is an open house?”
She chuckled at his naivety.
“Basically people from the community get to come here after hours to see what we offer. Think of it like a mass tour.”
“Interesting, well since I have nothing to show them on this tour I am sure I will have time to help if you need it.”
“Thank you, M’Baku, I just might take you up on that.”
“Good. Well, you should go home and rest for the big day ahead. I will see you tomorrow Monae.”
“Get home safe!”
It warmed his heart to hear her caring about his safety, even if it's something she said to everybody. A dreamy smile parted his lips and he felt as if she had just kissed his cheek and sent him on his way.
“You as well, Monae. You as well...”
Next Chapter
67 notes · View notes
Text
Stark Spangled Rebirth
Tumblr media
Chapter 1: Flowers In The Window
Summary: Steven Grant Rogers, the dumb kid, too stubborn to run away from a fight, was never gonna allow a bunch of no-good low-lives to hassle a dame in the street, even if it was going to lead to him getting his ass kicked. For once, however, the ass kicking has an upside as the dame in question seemed particularly grateful, a fact she displays a few days later at the Stark Expo.
But it wasn’t the only encounter that night that seemed set to change his life when Dr Erskine throws him a bone, meaning Steve can finally do the one thing he’s been desperate to do for years.
Join the army.
Warnings: Bad Language words. Nothing much… Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark
A/N:  As part of SSB’s 1st Birthday, @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ sent me and ask asking what would have gone down so to speak should Katie have been part of the CA: TFA timeline. So here it is, my take!  I’ll be trying to keep this fic as accurate to the time period and the movie as possible, just like with the other SS fics. I’ve gleamed the dates and timeline from good old google and a wonderful post that flipped up on my timeline which can be found here.
I really hope you enjoy this, there will be some creative license because, let’s face it, what is Fan Fic other than self-indulgence? I’ve been dying to write something like this for ages. All of it will be written from Steve’s point of view because…well, just because.   Huge thanks to my beta readers @southerngracela​ and @icanfeelastormbrewing​ who both found time in their hugely hectic schedules to check this over. That said, any mistakes are my own. I’ll probably spot them once posted but, whatever!
HAPPY 1 YEAR BIRTHDAY to STARK SPANGLED BANNER!!!! 
SSR Masterlist // WIYPT Masterlist 
Tumblr media
June 1943
It started just the same as any normal Friday morning for Steven Grant Rogers. He unlocked the back of the Grocery Store on the corner of Berry Street in Brooklyn, using the entrance down the alley way reserved for staff. Once inside he grabbed his beige coloured linen apron off the hook and smiled at the items he had to work with today. Fridays, were always a treat as they took the rare delivery of freshly cut flowers ready to be sold for the weekend. This week there were boxes of bright white gardenias with their waxy petals and shiny, leathery dark green leaves, bunches of bright purple heliotrope which always reminded him of one of his mother’s scarves, and plenty of white, blue and purple asters. Steve bent down to take in the strong, vibrant fragrance of the gardenias, closing his eyes. It was easy to imagine he was in some garden somewhere, or even the middle of central park…not some little shop in Williamsberg.
“Don’t be inhaling enough of that to set your asthma off!” Mr Tromley, a kindly faced, portly man in his 50s greeted, and Steve turned to look at him, smiling a little shyly.
“I won’t Mr T.” he assured him. “They’re just so darn pretty…”
“Well set yourself a few aside.” Mr Tromley smiled “You can take them home and sketch them.”
“Oh, I couldn’t” Steve protested, the way he always did when Mr Tromley tried to slip him something for free be it scraps of meat he couldn’t sell from the counter that would be given to dogs, bread that wasn’t as soft as it had been in the morning and would be fed to the birds, milk that was going to turn, cheese that was slightly past its best. Mr Tromley ignored all his protests though, usually threatening to sack Steve if he didn’t take it. The man knew what it was like to come from a hard background, which was part of the reason he’d taken a shine to that sickly, 22 year old orphan with a degree in fine arts that had come begging for a job some 3 years ago. He couldn’t pay him much but he could do other things to make sure he got by.
“Well if you don’t take ‘em Steve they’ll just end up withering and a-dyin’, so reckon you’d be doin’ em a kindness.” Mr Tromley shrugged “Now, my Ada has some coffee going, you want a cup before we open the doors?”
Steve glanced at the clock above the counter, more out of habit than anything as he knew full well that he arrived with an hour to go.
“Mr T that’d be swell.” He smiled.
“Okay, you get started and I’ll fetch it down.”
Steve began in the usual way, pulling some simple bouquets together, varying in size and price, ready for the busy men to pick up on their way home from work, a nice present for their dame’s for the weekend. Once the stalks and lower foliage were trimmed and stripped, he fastened and tied them in simple brown waxy paper using plain brown string. Steve always insisted on using plain wrapping as anything else would detract from the beauty of the flowers. He placed the finished bouquets into one of the green buckets of water Mr Tromley fetched from the back, before he then carefully and delicately trimmed down the remaining flowers before placing them loose in their own buckets according to type, ready for the ladies, and occasional gentleman, who had the time and desire to create their own bunches.
Impeccably organised, as ever, Steve finished his work 15 minutes before the store was due to open. He then set about helping Mr Tromley as they arranged the buckets outside the shop window on the sidewalk, before they set up the other stalls of seasonal vegetables. There wasn’t much fruit to go by at the moment, but that was a sign of the times really. But what they did have, namely a selection of apples and oranges, they set those out ready too. Once that was done, Mr Tromley handed Steve a thick wedge of fresh bread which had been delivered that morning from the local bakery, along with some of his wife’s home-made jam which was sold from their shop. Steve took his breakfast with a mumbled thanks, averse to taking the daily handouts as ever, and Mr Tromley sighed.
“Steve, when are you going to realise that a piece of bread and jam for breakfast ain’t gonna bankrupt me?”
“I just don’t want to appear to take advantage, that’s all.” “Ah quit it.” Tromley waved his hand, shaking his head “If I didn’t want you to take advantage of it, I wouldn’t offer it would I? Now, eat that and get behind the counter.”
The morning passed much the same as they always did. A flurry of activity at opening, a steady stream of locals and regulars through to the usual peak of activity just before lunch. Like clockwork, Mr Tromley closed the doors bang on midday for an hour and Steve gathered his sketchbook along with the brown paper bag which contained his cheese and bread, and headed outside into the sun. At Mr Tromley’s instruction he selected an apple from the display and crossed the road avoiding the yellow cabs and cyclists and trams, taking up seat on the bench which sat directly opposite the shop front.  He chewed his lunch, washed it down with the tin bottle of lemonade that Mrs Tromley had filled for him earlier, and then once he had finished his apple he tossed the core over to a pigeon who instantly began pecking at it. He then untucked the pencil that was behind his ear, opened his sketchbook and resumed the detailed landscapes he was doing of the buildings surrounding the shop front. Drawing was his escape, something he did any chance he got. He dreamed one day of travelling the world, drawing all the different sights he could, but that was out of the question. Well, until he finally got into the army. With 4 failed attempts under his belt already, most men would have given up but not Steven Rogers. Stubborn, tenacious and plucky to a fault, he was already planning his next attempt at enlisting, this time he was going to hail from New Jersey. Well, as good a place as any.  
Steve glanced up, checking the detail of the window to the cobblers next door, and that was when he saw her, just walking down the sidewalk. She wore a red high-collared, cap sleeved tea-dress which flared out slightly from her hips and finished just below her knee. It was cinched in at the waist with a black belt, and was detailed round the hem and sleeve edges with pretty white lace. On her feet she wore a pair of simple, elegant black block heel courts with a T-bar buckle. Her hair was a silky, shiny chestnut which hung around her face in bouncy waves and she had a soft, gentle profile with high cheekbones, slightly flushed cheeks and ruby lips. She stopped outside the shop, examining the flowers with a smile, and then she looked up at the shop door and saw the CLOSED sign in the window. She can’t be from around here, Steve thought to himself, everyone in the neighbourhood knew when Tromley closed his doors and opened them, you could set your watch by it. Still, she hung around, softly picking up a gardenia and holding it to her nose, smiling to herself as she inhaled.
Steve found the innocent act breath-taking. He felt a little, well, shameful in a way, to be watching her so, intruding on what was clearly a private moment but he couldn’t help it. She was beautiful, grace personified, and he felt a little sad as she replaced the flower, gave the buckets one last look, before she continued on her way. Steve sighed, wishing to God that the shop had been open, it would have given him an excuse to maybe see her a little more closely. Perhaps talk to her. Or not as the case maybe, Bucky was always telling him how useless he was when it came to striking up conversations with ladies. But, for now, he had to settle for watching her walk away. Only he wasn’t the only one.
“Hey pretty thing…” Steve heard a voice and turned to his left where a group of men, most likely in their late teens or early twenties, had spotted her. As Steve watched he saw one of them push himself off the lamppost he’d been leaning on and cross the street towards her. The lady stopped, looking at him with her eyebrow raised. He spoke to her again, Steve couldn’t hear the conversation but a smile tugged at his lips as the lady looked the boy up and down, disdain etched all over her pretty face before she shook her head and laughed. She made to move past the kid but he reached out and grabbed her arm.
And Steve just couldn’t help himself.
“Hey…” he called, jumping up and hurrying across the street “Let the lady go.”
“Back off, this has nothing to do with you.” The man rounded on him, looking at him before he snorted at Steve’s stature. “Besides, what you gonna do about it anyway?”
Steve took a deep breath, he was used to people looking down their noses at him, both figuratively and literally. That was part and parcel of being only 5 foot 4 inches tall. He also knew that at 100lb give or take, he didn’t cut a formidable figure either, but he was damned if he was going to let this bully manhandle a dame in the middle of the street.
The woman wrenched her arm away from the man’s grip and glared at him, furious green eyes bored into his as she snorted and looked the guy up and down. “He’s clearly twice the gentleman you’ll ever be. Didn’t your mother ever teach you basic, good manners jack ass?”
“What did you just say?” a sudden darkness crossed the man’s face as he looked down at the woman who stood, un-yielding, clutching her purse as it hung around her shoulder.
“You heard me, well unless you’re deaf as well as ugly.” she shrugged slightly. At that Steve really couldn’t hold his face straight anymore and he felt the side of his lips curl up into a smirk. He was sure the pretty dame’s eyes flickered to his but he must have imagined it as when he stole a glance back at her she was staring straight back at the man who’d been giving her the trouble.
“Mouthy little broad you ain’t ya?” he snarled.
“Show some damned respect.” Steve shot out, and this time the man rounded on him. Steve stood stock still, his mother’s words echoing clearly in his head- you start running, they’ll never let you stop and he was aware in his peripheral that the other 2 men who’d been observing until now were starting to circle like sharks who had just had their first taste of blood.
He braced himself, ready for the inevitable fight, legs slightly apart, hands balling into fists by his side. But it was no use. He was never going to be fast enough or strong enough for one of these guys, let alone 3, and as the fist connected with his face he heard a scream and a yell as he fell backwards into the display of oranges and apples which he had lovingly helped Mr T prepare before.
Steve staggered to his feet, readying himself for another hit but it didn’t come. Instead one of the guys was sent sprawling to the ground besides him, shortly followed by the other. He wheeled round to see Bucky had the one that was left standing pinned up by the collar against the brick wall to the side of the shop and Mrs T was on the door step brandishing a broom handle, a string of Italian expletives leaving her mouth.
“Get outta here…” Bucky shoved the one that he was holding harshly into the road where he narrowly avoided colliding with the side of a yellow cab. Then turns to Steve and pulls him up.
“Seriously?” Bucky groaned and Steve shook his head, dusting himself down “You pick a fight with 3 at once?”
“He didn’t pick a fight with any of them.” A soft voice spoke and both Steve and Bucky turned to look at the dame in the red dress who was dusting herself down as her eyes flitted from Bucky, to Steve, then back again. “He came to help me when one of those bozos was getting a little too familiar.”
“That’s Stevie, a regular Knight in shining armour…” Bucky ruffled Steve’s hair as he gave an exasperated sigh, pushing himself away from his best friend. “Especially when there’s a beautiful dame involved.”
 The lady looked at Bucky, arching an eyebrow slightly before she looked back at Steve and he gulped slightly as for the first time he took her in properly.  She was gorgeous. Deep green eyes that sparkled like emeralds in a coal mine looked back at him from a heart shaped face, nose speckled with freckles which twitched a little as she smiled revealing a row of perfectly straight, white teeth
"I guess I should thank you Stevie." She spoke, and Steve felt the heat rise in his cheeks.
"It was nothing...I just.." he stopped dead as she reached out and straightened his tie, long eyelashes blinking against his cheeks as she smoothed over his shoulders and dropped a kiss to his cheek.
"My hero"
Steve swallowed and looked at the woman as she stepped back, smiling at him.
“I err, it was…my pleasure.” Steve stuttered and the lady arched an eyebrow, a grin on her face.
“Interesting choice of words.”
“I mean, not pleasure, obviously. No one likes seeing a beautiful dame getting hassled, I mean woman, not that…” he shook his head, as Bucky nudged him. He was rambling, as per usual. “I err, I should…”he gestured to the shop as Mr and Mrs Tromley were now looking at the mess of fruit all over the floor.
“I’m sorry about that.” She turned to the shopkeepers who looked at her, Mrs Tromley waving her away.
“Not your fault dear.”
“Can I at least buy some of the flowers?”  She asked, a little shyly “That is what I actually wanted to do after all.”
“Of course, Steven, can you…” Mr T nodded to Steve and then his eyes fell on Bucky “James Buchanan Barnes, what are you doing here?”
“Got a week or so’s furlough, Mr T and Ma sent me for some stuff, I gotta list.” he nodded, fishing it out of his pocket.
Tromley took it from him, scanned it and then turned to walk into the shop, beckoning for Bucky to follow him. Steve’s eyes followed his friend’s broad back as Bucky paused in the doorway and stopped, turning back to the woman. Steve groaned inwardly, he knew that face, Bucky was about to turn on the charm and she was no doubt going to fall in a pool at his feet, just like most of the other girls in the neighbourhood.
“You’re not from round here, right?” Bucky asked.
“What makes you say that?” she countered with a question of her own, looking Bucky up and down as she spoke.
“Never seen you before.”
“Know all the girls in Brooklyn, do you James Buchanan Barnes?” she asked, and Bucky gave a chuckle as she repeated his name to him and winked.
“Only the pretty ones.” “Well I suppose with most men joining the army the moment, even the pretty ones can’t be choosers.”
At that Steve let out a snort of laughter as Bucky blinked in surprise. “Ouch.” He gave a little scoff and shake of his head before he turned to walk into the shop.
“He always like that?” the lady looked at Steve who took a deep breath and smiled a little.
“Yes Ma’am. And to be honest it normally works.” Steve glanced at Bucky before he looked back at the woman who was looking at him, her eyes twinkling “Most girls just can’t say no!”
“Well, I’ll let you into a secret.” She grinned and leaned closer to Steve. “I’m not like most girls.”
Steve swallowed again, nervously brushing a hand through his hair as she straightened up and smiled at him. “I’m Katie by the way, seems only fair you know my name seeing as I know yours.”
“I err, that’s a pretty name.” Steve smiled and then inwardly cursed himself again. He really had no idea how to talk to dames.
“Thank you.” She giggled, and then she turned to the buckets “So errr, do you wanna make me a bouquet Steve? Something pretty for my room.”
Glad of the distraction, Steve nodded and turned to the various bunches of flowers. “I err, I noticed you were admiring the gardenias, so…” “You were watching me?” she spoke and Steve looked at her, ready to start protesting that wasn’t what he’d been doing when he spotted the glint in her eyes and he shook his head giving a sigh. She grinned “I love gardenias, lilies are my favourite but gardenias are pretty too.”
“Yeah we don’t have any lilies, unfortunately.” Steve shrugged “They were my Ma’s favourite too.”
If she noticed the use of the past tense verb when speaking about his mother she didn’t say anything, but really what would she say? They’d met literally about 5 minutes ago. Steve set about gathering a generous bunch of flowers as she instructed him to make it a large bouquet and then she followed him into the shop where he wrapped them in brown paper and string as Bucky was leaning against the counter, chatting to the Tromleys, Mrs Tromley laughing loudly at something he’d said.
“You are a cad Bucky Barnes!” she look at him, shaking her head “Isn’t it bad enough you joined the army? You’ll give your ma a heart attack one of these days.”
Bucky shrugged “It wasn’t so bad, he never caught me. Even on a bum ankle I was faster.”
“You been caught in places you shouldn’t be again Buck?” Steve looked at him and he shrugged, grinning.
“You know me Stevie…”
“Yeah, yeah I do.” Steve rolled his eyes before he tied off the bouquet with the string and then handed it to Katie. She smiled.
“You have talented hands.” She spoke gently and Steve flushed once more, rubbing the back of his hands.
“Yeah, he’s good with them.” Bucky spoke and Steve glared at him. Katie turned to look at Bucky again, a smirk playing on her lips.
“Makes a change, in my experience most men don’t know the first thing about how to use them.”
Mrs Tromley choked a little on her coffee as she looked at the younger woman, flashing her a wink. Katie bit her lip, her mouth curling up into a small smile as she rummaged in her purse, pulling out a small leather wallet.
“How much do I owe you?”
“No charge.” Mr Tromley spoke suddenly but Katie shook her head.
“I insist, I was responsible for your display getting trashed, least I can do is pay for these.”
“Oh trust me.” Mr Tromley smiled, “Seeing you put that toe-rag into them was worth it.”
“Yeah, you had some pretty vicious moves for a dame.” Bucky looked at her and she shrugged as Steve frowned.
“Wait, you…” “Don’t look so surprised.” Katie smiled “A girl should always know how to defend herself. But if I’m honest, it’s always nice to have a man do it for you.”
At that she smiled and slapped some money down on the counter, stepping back. “Keep the change in insist.”
Mr Tromley looked at her, then at the note, his mouth falling open a little.
“Thank you again Steve.” She picked up the bouquet. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”
“I hope so, I mean…yeah…come back soon.”
She smiled and with a final look in his direction she left, the bell ringing as the door opened and shut behind her. There was a pause until Bucky turned to Steve.
“Come back soon?” he looked at him “Really? That’s the best you could do?”
Steve groaned. “Piss off Bucky.” He shot, giving a yelp as Mrs T swatted at his head.
“Language Steven!” she scalded, as Mr T chuckled and slid the money she’d left to Steve across the counter. Steve blinked and looked at it, before he shook his head. Mr Tromley glared at him.
“You don’t take that you’re fired.”
With a groan Steve folded the $5 note up and slid it into the pocket of his slacks. Mrs Tromley muttered something about going to check on her scones which were in the oven upstairs and Mr Tromley headed into the back, leaving Steve and Bucky alone.
“You know, that dame was practically begging for you to ask her out on a date.” Bucky picked up the paper bag containing the groceries he had come for and Steve looked at him, snorting.
“You’re joking right?” the smaller man shook his head “Dame’s like that don’t want a guy like me.” “Clueless.” Bucky shook his head “Absolutely fucking clueless.” Steve watched him head to the door, before he stopped and turned back. “Oh that reminds me. Ma’s expecting you about 6 for dinner. She’s making meatloaf and told me that if you refuse she’s gonna, and I quote.” Bucky cleared his throat and spoke in a light, airey impression of his Ma “march round to his house and drag him outta that apartment by his ear.”
Steve rolled his eyes well naturedly. He hadn’t been to the Barnes’ for dinner for a week so he wasn’t surprised Winnie had sent Bucky with an invitation that was more of an instruction than anything. “Okay, thanks Buck.”
Bucky gave him a salute before he headed out of the store, whistling to himself. Steve took a deep breath, shook his head and turned back to his work, pushing all thoughts of the stunning young woman in the red dress out of his mind.
Tumblr media
“You just don’t know when to give up, do you?” the taunting voice of his opponent rang in Steve’s ears as he staggered to his feet. This wasn’t how he’d planned his trip to the movie theatre going, not one iota. But when the loudmouthed asshole had done nothing but show total disrespect to those fighting overseas as the infomercial was showing, his temper had gotten the better of him and once more had led to him getting into a fight. As far as Monday’s went, this one was pretty crappy.
Which of course he could never walk away from.
“I can do this all day.” Steve huffed, swinging his fist at the guy again. The jerk easily blocked Steve’s feeble punch with his arm, delivering a huge jab with his left which sent Steve sprawling straight into the side of the trashcan from which he’d picked up the lid before. As Steve lay dazed, he heard a familiar voice breaking through the fog.
“Hey! Pick on someone your own size.” Bucky yanked the guy backwards by his jacket, shoving him a little down the alleyway. The guy swung at Bucky who dodged it almost lazily, before delivering a punch of his own, placing a firm boot up the guys ass as he retreated hurriedly. Watching as he scooted away, Bucky turned to Steve who was stood with his hands on his knees, steadying himself.
“Sometimes, I think you like getting punched.”
“I had him on the ropes.” Steve replied, pressing the heel of his palm to the cut above his eyebrow, wincing a little from the various blows he’d taken.
Bucky said nothing, instead he bent down to pick up the enlistment form that had fallen from Steve’s pocket and with a sigh he glanced at it.
“How many times is this?” his eyes scanned the information and he arched an eyebrow “Oh, you’re from Paramus now? You know it’s illegal to lie on the enlistment form. And seriously, Jersey?”
Steve ignored him, and then for the first time looked up at his friend to see him stood tall in his full army uniform. Which could only mean one thing. “You get your orders?” he frowned a little.
“The one-o-seventh. Sergeant James Barnes. Shipping out for England first thing tomorrow.”
Steve sighed, great. Just what he needed to hear. “I should be going.” He shook his head dejectedly.
Bucky looked at him sympathetically before he smiled, and looked an arm round his shoulder, pulling him closer in a friendly gesture as they both began to head back down the alley towards the main road.
“Come on, man, it’s my last night! Gotta get you cleaned up.”
“Why? Where are we going?”
“The future.” Bucky handed Steve the newspaper he was holding. Steve opened it to see the ad for the World Exposition Of Tomorrow.
“Buck…” he began to protest but Bucky stopped him.
“Seriously? My last night before I ship off to bust Nazi’s and you’re already tryin’a bail?”
“No, I just…” “Stevie!” Bucky whined. “Since I got my draft last September, I’ve hardly seen you other than when I’ve been home…”
“I know, but…” “No buts, man! I mean who knows when I’m gonna see you again now I’m actually being sent into combat and not just back to Camp McCoy. You know, London is a little further afield than Wisconsin “
“I’m well aware of that.” Steve rolled his eyes.
“So come on! Let’s go, have some fun. Cut loose a little. It’ll do you good.”
Steve looked up to see Bucky’s eyes shining with mischief, his handsome face grinning at him and he rolled his eyes “Fine, but you’re buying the hotdogs.”
“What else is new?” Bucky grinned, grabbing Steve in a headlock and ruffling his hair a little.
“Jerk.” Steve said furiously, pushing him away.
Tumblr media
A couple of hours later the 2 of them entered the Expo, Steve taking in the sights around him. It was crazy busy, a buzz of excitement around the air and it was hardly surprising. Howard Stark, the guy at the centre of it all was somewhat of a celebrity. He’d founded his company some 4 years ago at the age of 22 and it had grown from strength to strength, with numerous pioneering technological advances to his name. Steve would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little excited to see the latest and no doubt flamboyant invention the guy had come up with, but his mind was still on his failed Army application, the feeling of inadequacy exacerbated even more by the fact Bucky was going to be leaving him behind to serve his country, something that Steve felt he should be doing right along with his best pal.
Sensing his brooding nature, Bucky nudged him and opened his mouth no doubt to make some wise crack, but Steve shook his head.
“Buck, just don’t”
“I don’t see what the problem is.” Bucky shook his head as they wandered down the steps towards the main pavilion area “You’re about to be the last eligible man in New York.” Bucky grinned, and Steve sighed heavily. Yup, there it was. “You know, there’s three and a half million women here.”
“Well, I’d settle for just one.” Steve muttered and Bucky grinned, Steve allowing a little smile to spread across his face at his own joke.
“Good thing I took care of that.” Bucky grinned and waved to two girls, a blonde and a brunette, who stood a few feet away and Steve stopped dead as one of the girls waved back, calling out to Bucky.
Great, here we go again.
“What did you tell her about me?” Steve groaned. “Only the good stuff.” Bucky smirked as they walked towards the girls, Steve brushing his hand through his hair, making sure it was as tidy as he could.
Bucky introduced the girls as Connie and Bonnie. It was obvious from the start that Connie was the one Bucky was trying his luck with, although to be fair Bonnie might as well have been with Bucky too for all the attention she paid to Steve. As they wandered into the Pavilion, Steve stopped to purchase a bag of sweets before he followed on behind the other 3, glancing around at the various exhibits.
“Welcome to the Modern Marvels Pavilion and the World of Tomorrow.” The expo announcer spoke “A greater world. A better world.”
There was a little bit of murmuring from people in front of them as they stopped, glancing at the large stage in front of them which was currently dark, but then there was movement, music struck up and Connie grabbed Bucky’s arm in excitement.
“Oh, my God! It’s starting!” she squealed and yanked on Bucky’s hand, pulling him closer. As Steve stood behind them he saw the stage light up to reveal a row of women all dressed in black and white striped waistcoats, short jackets and top hats. One of them walked across the front of the stage, smiling as she spoke into a microphone
“Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Howard Stark!”
Smooth and cool as a cucumber, Howard Stark strode onto the stage, taking off his top hat, whilst he smiled, handing it to the announcer before kissing her as the crowd cheered. Howard smirked a little, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket which he used to dab at his mouth before he addressed his audience.
“Ladies and Gentlemen!” at that point Steve held the small paper bag over towards Bonnie who looked at it, then him, almost scathingly as Howard continued his speech. “What if I told you that in just a few short years, your automobile won’t even have to touch the ground at all?”
“You know…” a vaguely familiar voice spoke and Steve looked up from where he had been examining his bag of bonbons, wondering what was wrong with them, to see the woman from the shop a few weeks ago, Katie stood to the side of Bonnie. She was dressed in a simple grey dress which sported a pencil style skirt, with a light blue cardigan covering her shoulders. “When a gentleman offers you a sweet and you don’t want one, there’s really no need to be such a rude bitch about it.”
Her eyes were narrowed as she gave Bonnie a scathing look. Bonnie floundered a little as Katie reached out, dipping her red nailed, manicured hand into the paper bag and taking a sweet. In doing so she jostled Bonnie forward a little with her elbow, and turned to the stage, popping the bonbon in her mouth, giving Steve a little wink. Steve felt his cheeks flush a little as Bucky turned a little, his attention drawn to the slight scuffle behind him. He saw Katie stood next to Steve and he grinned.
“Hey Dollface.” Katie turned her head and looked at Bucky as Steve rolled his eyes. However, just like at the shop, she payed Bucky no attention other than a flick of her eyebrow, before her eyes flicked back to the stage, Steve doing the same to see that Stark was now stood by some sort of podium.
“With Stark robotic reversion technology, you’ll be able to do just that.” Howard spoke, and with that he turned to fiddle with a few switches on the podium and the car started to hover ever so slightly off the ground. Steve felt his mouth drop open in awe as in front of him Bucky let out an astonished mumble.
“Holy cow.”
But he spoke too soon, as the robots making the car hover suddenly malfunctioned and the car fell back onto the stage with a loud crash, sparks flying out round it.
Bucky turned to look at Steve, smiling as Steve’s eyebrows raised, and besides him, Katie gave a snort.
“I did say a few years, didn’t I?” Howard laughed, leaning on the bonnet of the car.
“Few years my ass.” Katie mumbled and Steve looked at her.
“What?”
“Nothing, doesn’t matter.” she shook her head. “Listen, I gotta go-”
“Oh, ok.” Steve tried not to sound disappointed but Katie smiled at him softly, cutting him off.
“Meet me at the Cider cart in an hour.”
“I err…” Steve stuttered, before he frowned “You sure, you wanna meet me?”
“If I didn’t I wouldn’t have said so.” Katie grinned,  “1 hour, don’t you dare be late.”
“Yeah, an hour, got it…”
Not quite able to believe his luck, Steve watched her go, smiling to himself before he glanced around and his eyes stopped on the familiar Uncle Sam poster pointing at him, with an arrow directing him to a recruitment centre. What the hell, he had nothing to lose…and an hour was plenty of time. Decision made, he followed the signs and jogged up the steps into the building, pausing to take a look around as people were milling in the carpeted hallway.
“Come on soldier!” a woman giggled at her male company, pulling him away from a mirror making him look like a soldier. Once he was gone Steve stepped in front of the mirror but he was too short to fill out the face. His shoulders slumped and then suddenly, a strong hand gripped his right and Bucky chuckled.
“You’re kind of missing the point of a double date.” He said, shaking his head as Steve stepped away, turning to face him “We’re taking the girls dancing.”
“You go ahead. I’ll catch up with you.” Steve replied, hands dropping into his pockets.
“What, you had a better offer? From Doll face?”
“Her name is Katie.”
“Oh my God I’m right!” Bucky laughed “Good for you, Punk!”
Steve rolled his eyes and then watched as a man strode past him in an Army Uniform and when Steve looked back at Bucky, his friend’s face now sported an exasperated expression as he’d clearly realised what Steve was planning. “You’re really gonna do this again?”
“Well, it’s a fair. I’m gonna try my luck.” Steve answered with a little shrug.
“As who? Steve from Ohio? They’ll catch you. Or worse, they’ll actually take you.” Bucky’s voice was frustrated and Steve gave a little smile.
“Look, I know you don’t think I can do this, but I’m more-“
“This isn’t a back alley, Steve. It’s war!” Bucky cut him off.
“I know it’s a war. You don’t have to tell me that-“ “Why are you so keen to fight? There are so many important jobs.” “What am I gonna do? Collect scrap metal-“
“Yes!”
“-in my little red wagon?”
“Why not?”
“I’m not gonna sit in a factory, Bucky.” Steve argued, shaking his head.
“I don’t…” Bucky protested once more and Steve cut him off.
“Bucky, come on! There are men laying down their lives. I got no right to do any less than them. That’s what you don’t understand. This isn’t about me.”
“Right. Cause you got nothing to prove.” Bucky said gently and Steve took a deep breath. But before Bucky could say anything else Connie called out to him.
“Hey, Sarge! Are we going dancing?”
Bucky turned back to the girls, his arms held out to the side. “Yes, we are.” With that he turned back to Steve, shaking his head a little, his shoulders slumped in resignation. “Don’t do anything stupid until I get back.” He instructed as he started to walk away.
“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.” Steve shot back and Bucky shook his head, giving a snort.
“You’re a punk.” He walked back towards Steve and hugged him goodbye.
“Jerk” Steve said gently slapping Bucky’s back. “Be careful.”
With a pang of sadness, Steve watched his best friend walking away, not quite sure when they’d see each other again, if indeed ever. He licked his lips and then called out to Bucky once more. “Don’t win the war till I get there!”
Bucky stopped and saluted him before he strode down the steps, “Come on girls. They’re playing our song.”
With a deep breath, Steve headed into the recruitment centre, past an older gentlemen in a brown suit. He was given the usual forms to fill out, this time going with Ohio as his place of birth-thanks for that one, Buck- and he was shown to the medical examination room. After the short physical was over, he was just fastening the sleeves of his long shirt up again when a nurse walked into the room and whispered something inaudible to the doctor.
“Wait here.” The Doctor turned to him, moving to the curtain.
“Is there a problem?” Steve asked, frowning a little.
“Just wait here.” The doctor repeated his instruction before he walked out.
Steve paused for a second, glancing over his right shoulder at a sign warning against lying on enlistment forms before he glanced at the curtain, cold dread filling him. Shit, Bucky was right, they’d caught up with him. Jumping down off the bed he sat heavily in a chair and began to pull on his shoes when someone entered the cubicle. He glanced up and saw a Military Police officer looking at him and he swallowed a little nervously. But before he could say anything another man entered, the man Steve had walked past about forty minutes or so previously in the foyer, and he was clutching a file in his hands.
“Thank you.” The man spoke to the Police Officer who left, pulling the curtains closed behind him. Steve watched as the man turned to face him, his hands behind his back. “So, you want to go overseas.” The man pulled the file from behind him, opening it “Kill some Nazis.”
“Excuse me?”
“Dr. Abraham Erskine.” The man closed the folder and walked over as Steve stood up, shaking his hand “I represent the Strategic Scientific Reserve.”
“Steve Rogers” Steve nodded, noting the man’s accent as he placed the file on the medical bed and started to look through it. “Where are you from?”
“Queens. 73rd Street and Utopia Parkway. Before that, Germany.” He adjusted his glasses as he glanced at Steve “This troubles you?”
“No.” Steve replied honestly, shaking his head.
“Where are you from, Mr. Rogers?” Erskine asked, resting both his hands on the bench “Mmm? Is it New Haven? Or Paramus? Five exams in five different cities.”
“That might not be the right file.” Steve began to try and get out of whatever trouble he was in but Erskine was quick to cut him off.
“No, it’s not the exams I’m interested in. It’s the five tries.” Erskine closed the file, picking it up “But you didn’t answer my question.” He strode over and stopped in front of Steve “Do you want to kill Nazis?”
Steve glanced to the side before he looked at Erskine “Is this a test?”
“Yes.” The man replied bluntly and Steve took a deep breath, before he answered as honestly as he could.
“I don’t wanna kill anyone.” He shook his head, raising his eyes to meet Erskine’s “I don’t like bullies. I don’t care where they’re from.”
“Well, there are already so many big men fighting this war. Maybe what we need now is the little guy, huh?” Erskine smiled before he turned to leave “I can offer you a chance” he said, whipping the curtains open “Only a chance.”
Steve couldn’t believe his ears. Was this Doctor guy actually telling him he’d done it, that he’d finally made it into the army? He had no idea what the Strategic Science Reserve was, or why Erskine had questioned him so, but right now he didn’t care.
“I’ll take it.” He said, hastily grabbing his belongings and following Erskine out.
“Good.” Erskine placed the file down on the desk and picked up a stamp, before replacing it and reaching for another “So where is the little guy from, actually?”
Steve smiled “Brooklyn.”
Erskine smiled back, stamped the form before closing the file and handing it to Steve. “Congratulations, soldier.”
Steve hastily opened it up and did a double take as he saw the stamp was a 1A this time, not 4f. He let out a deep breath and glanced up to thank the man, but he’d already left.
“You’ll be sent your papers and instructions shortly” Another man spoke to him, taking the file off him and handing him back the recruitment slip. Steve nodded. “Be ready, the SSR are on a schedule.”
Steve nodded, before he was shown out of the room. Still in a daze he clutched the piece of paper in his hand and wandered back to the area where he’d left Bucky before. And then he remembered Katie.
Shit.
He hastily made his way outside the building and headed back to the pavilion, weaving his way through the crowds. One bonus to being small was that it made it easy to do so. He found the cider cart and saw her waiting, chatting to the man behind the counter, her brown hair hanging round her shoulders, rouged lips which curled up into a smile as she spotted him approaching.
“You’re late.” Katie looked at him and Steve flushed. “I was beginning to think you’d stood me up.”
“I wouldn’t do that, my ma taught me better.” He gave her a small smile “I was just...” he waved his enlistment paper at her and she frowned a little
“You enlisted?”
He nodded “Yup.” “Wow.” Katie blinked, “Erm, congratulations, I guess. Is that the right word?”
“It is when you’ve tried and been rejected several times already.” Steve shrugged before he snorted “Story of my life.”
“That girl before was fuckin’ rude.” Katie’s eyes narrowed and Steve blinked at the profanity coming from her mouth before she rolled her eyes “Don’t look at me like that!”
“Like what?”
“Like the fact I swore means I’m gonna go to hell.” She snorted “If it does, then I got that particular ticket a long time ago.”
“Sorry, I was…” he took a deep breath “For such a pretty woman you certainly…er…”
“Have a filthy mouth?” she asked and Steve snorted, shrugging as he looked away, his lips curling up into a crooked smile as he raised his eyebrows. She leaned closer to him, her lips brushing his ear as she whispered “You have no idea.”
Steve swallowed at the blatant innuendo causing her to laugh at him even more before she nudged him with her elbow “Come on soldier, what do you want to drink?”
Soldier…that was the second time in 10 minutes he’d been called that, and Steve liked it much more coming from her. He watched her for a second before he realised he was staring and she jerked her head towards the stall.
“Cat got your tongue Stevie?” she grinned and he took a deep breath “What do you want?”
“Erm, an ale…please…hang on.” he began fishing in his pocket but Katie gently wrapped a hand around his wrist.
“No need.” she smiled, as the man behind the counter held out the ale for Steve along with a cup of cider for her. She took it with a thanks and smiled, taking a sip. “Put it on the tab, will you?”
The stall attendant snorted and nodded “Whatever you say, Katie.”
She turned away and started walking slowly over to an exhibit, Steve falling into step besides her.
“How does he know ya?” Steve asked. Katie looked at him as she swallowed a sip of her cider
“Because I work here…well, I do at the moment.” She smiled as Steve looked at her blankly “I helped organise this.” She waved her hand around.
“You work for Howard Stark?”
“Kinda.” Katie shrugged “Now come on, I’m not working now and I wanna see how everything looks.”
They walked around the expo grounds, taking in the sights and various attractions. Steve was surprised to find his awkwardness ebbing away with each minute he spent in Katie’s company. She was down to Earth, easy to talk to and made him feel comfortable about himself…although his good spirits might have also been due to the fact he’d finally made it into the army. His meeting with Dr Erskine had baffled him a little, all truth be told, but he’d liked the man. There was something about him that told Steve he could trust him, and Steve was normally a pretty good judge of character.
By the time they’d done pretty much a lap of the main area of the Pavillion, stopping to examine The Synthetic Man in great detail, Steve was surprised to find that he’d spent over an hour with a woman who hadn’t been seeking to lose him at the first opportunity, quite the opposite in fact. On more than one occasion he noticed men looking in her direction, then to his with puzzled expressions on their face, and he had to admit was it the other way round he’d also probably be slightly surprised to see them together. She was a good 2 inches taller than him, but he was used to that, she was pretty, vivacious…well out of his league all things considered. But she was good company, and he was thoroughly disappointed when they seemed to be heading back towards the place they’d started, signalling their time together was likely coming to an end.
“So, do you need to find Barnes or…” she looked at him and Steve chuckled.
“Er no, no. He’ll be…busy.” Steve shrugged
“What he just ditched you for those girls?” Katie frowned.
“No, not entirely. I ditched him, well, I went to join the army. He doesn’t approve.” Steve finished, explaining slightly.
“Approve of what?”
“Me signin’ up.
“Why not?”
“Doesn’t think I can cope.” Steve shrugged “I wasn’t exactly a healthy kid so…”
“Well they let you in so you can’t be that bad.”
Steve wrinkled his nose and shook his head slightly “Some doctor in there offered me a chance, what can I say? Said that there were so many big guys fighting, maybe they needed a little one.”
At that Katie stopped walking and looked at him. “Wait, it was a doctor that accepted you?”
“Yeah,” Steve frowned
“You mean one of the Medical Recruitment Officers?”
“No, I don’t think so.” Steve’s frown deepened “He was with some Scientific Division” he looked at Katie, who was looking right back at him, her eyes wide “Wait, is there something wrong?”
“No, nothing…just surprised me a little, that’s all.” She looked around, as if she was searching for someone and Steve watched her, a little confused as she chewed her lip with an air of contemplation before she looked back at him, her green eyes locking onto his with a softness in them that made him go weak at the knees, well, weaker than normal “Thank you for keeping me company tonight Steve, I had fun.”
“Me too.” He said earnestly “Hey, if you want, I mean only if you want, we could maybe meet up again, you know, before I get my posting?” At that Katie’s face fell and Steve sighed, he’d blown it. She’d only asked him to accompany her round he expo out of politeness, duty even as a thank you for his intervention on the street a few weeks back, and now he’d put her on the spot. “It’s ok.” He started to back track “I get that you’re probably busy and get asked that all the time…”
“No, it’s not that.” She shook her head “I’d love to go out with you Steve, but I leave town tomorrow. I’m needed back at…well, my other job.”
“Oh, ok.” Steve popped a shoulder up, trying to hide his disappointment. “Well, I err…good luck. With whatever that job is.”
Katie laughed “It’s me who should be wishing you good luck, trust me.” She cocked her head before she took a deep breath “Just remember Steve, the world needs men like you, be a shame if we lost you all in the war.”
At her compliment he felt himself once more flush, and the heat in his neck rose even more as she leaned down and pressed her lips softly to his cheek. She pulled back a little, locking her eyes onto his and he swallowed, the lump in his throat now only rivalled by the one he was starting to feel in his slacks. And then, he had no idea how it happened but her lips were suddenly pressed to his. He froze momentarily, but then he went with his instinct and mirrored her movements, his eyes fluttering closed. Her hands gently curled over his shoulder, his automatically falling to her hips, shaking a little against the fabric of her dress as the kiss deepened slightly, the warm edge of her tongue flicking at his lips. He parted his mouth a little, allowing her to curl her tongue against his, a movement that made him shudder and he was beyond disappointed when she pulled away. She smiled against his mouth, her nose bumping his slightly as his cheeks felt hotter than the sun. He knew he was blushing, furiously, having just had his first proper kiss in the middle of a huge exhibition, but Katie seemed completely nonplussed as she smiled at him.
“For luck.” She whispered, stepping back slightly, before she turned and headed away, casting a glance back over her shoulder at him, flashing him another cheeky little wink. “See you around.”
Steve floundered a little, mouth gaping as he watched her disappear into the crowd, and with a final shake of his head and a deep, steadying breath he headed for the exit.
Tumblr media
 As it turned out Steve didn’t have long to wait for his posting at all. The following day he received his papers assigning him to Camp Lehigh in New Jersey as part of his recruitment to the SSR’s “Operation Rebirth” programme, whatever that was. He assumed he’d receive more details upon arrival. It wasn’t that which surprised him the most however, it was the date upon which he was ordered to report. Wednesday. As in, tomorrow. Whilst it didn’t give him much time to prepare, it didn’t bother him too much. He had meagre belongings anyways and anything he didn’t want to take with him he packed up into smaller boxes with the help of Bucky’s teenage sister Rebecca, Buck’s dad promising to keep it safe for him until he got back.
Winnie was beside herself when Steve broke the news that he too was enlisting, but she wished him well and made him promise to write. As did the Tromleys, who both took the news even worse than Bucky’s family had. Ada having first burst into tears then hugged him so hard he thought she was going to crush him half to death, whilst Mr Tromley had shook his hand and warned him that if he didn’t come back alive, with all 4 limbs, he’d kill Steve himself.
The morning rolled round ridiculously fast and both the Tromleys and Mr and Mrs Barnes insisted on seeing him off.  Once more Ada and Winnie hugged him tightly before Mr Tromley and Mr Barnes shook his hand, the latter promising Steve he would sort out everything with his landlord, taking the key to his small apartment in the tenement building where Steve had lived in all his life. Steve felt a little pang of emotion at that point, this was the last physical tie he really had to his mother but he took a deep breath letting it go slowly. She’d been dead now for 7 years and anything that remained of hers in the building was all safely stored.
No, Steve had absolutely no doubts about what he was doing. This was all he had ever wanted, to follow in his father’s footsteps and so, at 6am on the 16th June 1943 Steve Rogers boarded the Army bus that arrived at the bus station to take him and a number of other recruits to New Jersey, leaving the place he’d called home for his entire life behind.
104 notes · View notes
whatdoesshedotothem · 2 years
Text
Saturday 21 December 1839
9 ½
12 ¾
fine morning F53 ½° and R -9 ½° on my bedroom table now at 9 ½ and breakfast at 10 ½ at which hour F about 51° and R -8 ½° in the salon – A- ½ staved to death – I complained and told Grotza to tell Mrs. Howard something must be done – we really could not bear the cold of the rooms – after breakfast (having sent André to the post-office and finding the English post goes Saturdays Tuesdays till 12 at noon) sent off by Gross my letter (at 11 1/2) to be forwarded by Mr. Marc to ‘Robert Parker Esquire solicitor Halifax Yorkshire England’ my letter being all written on p. 3 and A-‘s letter to Mr. Adam taking up pp. 1 and 2 of the sheet – and my letter to ‘Mr. David Booth Langleys’ farm Hipperholm Halifax Yorkshire England’, my letter taking up (filling) pp. 1 and 2, and A-‘s letter to him taking up p. 3 and the ends – A-s’ letter to her aunt Mrs. AW. Cliff hill – sent by a Gross a 50 rouble note to pay for the 3 letters and received back two ten-rouble notes and a two zolotin. piece and a five kop. silver piece, and a 5 kop. copper piece =
Post from Moscow to England Tuesdays and Saturdays till 12 at noon
then A- seeming not quite satisfied with her letter to Mr. Adam having ordered all her rents after paying expenses to be paid over to the Yorkshire district bank to my account  both this Christmas and next midsummer if she did
not in the meantime ordered otherwise   we had another talk I said I had made up my mind she should leave me for I really could not manage her  she got frightened I think at the thought of being without me and promised to do better and to do all I wished
in fact I had hardly slept last night my mind being seriously intent on helping her to get rid of me as well as I could
advised her lying down which she did at twelve and a quarter I wrapped her up and then wrote the above of today till now 12 40/.. – I had given up the thought of our journey and meant to go home   now all this is reversed and we are really to go onwards – what ups and downs  how will it all end?  she will never resolve to leave me? then paid the washerwoman the 3 last weeks etc. etc. till now 1 5/.. – out at 1 35/.. (alone) took 3 turns on the boulevard in an hour and home at 2 40/.. – had my St. P- thermometer on the boulevard, sent André back for it – against a tree with the sun shining on it R -13° and laid on the snow just out of the sunshine (towards the square at this near end of the boulevard) – R -19 ½° or F -11° i.e. 43° degrees of F below the freezing point – took A- with me and off at 2 55/.. to Mr. Jacksons’ about arranging our kibitka – to send it to him on Monday morning – for a box to be made to go in front 2ft.x1ft. and 18in. deep – the doors to be made to open inside and lock with chain and padlock outside – a net to be put up to carry our bread – and the mattress to be buttoned up against the back and also at the bottom of the seat so as not to slip off – he himself to be chez nous at 12 on Tuesday to go with us to make the necessary purchases for the journey – advises us to get off as soon as possible to have the benefit of the moon and to be at Kasan [Kazan] during the Xmas – advises red morocco pillows – and for me according to my own opinion a fur cap and a chelat (like a large folding robe de chamber) lined with black lambs wool = about 30/. – shewed us a nice pair of reindeer skin boots but not certain if they could be got here – or if they could be got if bespoke – a brace of pistols – a wolf skin? to throw over us in the carriage good one for 70/. put hay at the bottom of the kibitka and over that a common carpet 8/. or 10/. – we can get portable soup and meat – nothing to be had at the [Sarepta] shop but knitted woollen shirts and such sort of things – thought a kibitka for the servants would cost 100/. or 110/. – I said no! 40/. would be enough to give and I could have one at that prince – advises our never sleeping on the sofas we meet with – shall be devoured – but always put our mattress in the middle of the floor the vermin will then be some time in reaching us – to get a common mattress 15/. for the servants and shubes – 20 minutes going and as long returning from Mr. Jacksons’ and home at 4 ½ - dressed – wrote the last 25 lines till dinner now at 5 50/.. in 35 minutes – A- and I then walked about the rooms a little – then reading Dictionnaire géographique de la Russia till tea at 8 in 20 minutes and afterwards reading the same till now 9 50/.. pm. – while I was out walking this morning old princess Orousoff left her card – very fine day
A- sat up sewing for me (lace holes) till 12 ¼
5 notes · View notes
thumbgarden · 3 years
Text
Tips for caring for blackberries in the fall
Tumblr media
Blackberry is similar to raspberry except that its fruit first turns red and then charcoal black. To me, they have a more interesting taste than raspberries, but the seeds are more visible on the teeth. Thanks to the work of plant breeders and the completely thornless varieties they have produced, and thanks to travelers and tourists who have brought new foreign varieties with high-quality fruit to our continent, blackberries are becoming more and more popular and can be seen more and more often on garden plots. However, blackberries tend to grow well only on a trellis, which must be erected in the second year of planting on the plot. The trellis can be placed in the most primitive place. If you have a dozen varieties of blackberries on the plot, plant them with a distance of 6.5 feet (2 meters) between rows so that they do not interfere with each other.
At the edge of the rows, hammer in ordinary metal tubes of 5-6inch (12-15 cm) diameter, make holes in them, and stretch strong wire through them. From the second year on, you can hang blackberry shoots from the wire or twine. Throughout the summer you will be harvesting blackberries and when autumn comes you will be wondering what to do next and how to caring for blackberries! Don't worry: before you remove the blackberry from its stand and place it on a bed of soft leaves or wrap it up with it, you need to prune it hygienically and fertilize it, combined with hydration and moisturizing.
PRUNING BLACKBERRIES There are many subtleties here. You must prune in such a way as to ensure the full growth and development of your blackberry plants later on. Of course, the first order of business is to remove all broken, dry, diseased shoots (no doubt about it), but what's next? Next, you need to relentlessly cut off all shoots that have already borne fruit this year. However, if you are a lucky resident of the southern United States, it is possible not to cut them off completely, but to shorten them to a height of 5 feet (1.5 meters).
All other blackberry shoots, in the current season, unfortunately, our harvest did not satisfy us and you need to prune, removing about 6-8inch (15-20 cm). Most likely, this immature part, even under mulch, will start to behave badly: it may freeze, start to rot, and decay. Naturally, after such an event, all the cut blackberry shoots must be taken out of the area and be sure to burn them, the ashes can be put in a bag: it will come in handy. Let her eat a little, but it (we do not tire of repeating) contains potassium and trace elements that can be fed to, for example, houseplants.
FERTILIZING AND WATERING BLACKBERRIES In what order to do these necessary procedures does not matter at all. Fertilize first and then water, or water first, and then spread the fertilizer on the moist soil - the way you think best.
WATERING BLACKBERRIES Watering well is really just hydrating and moisturizing. If someone tells you he doesn't water his blackberries at all and he has a luxurious yield every year, he is either lying or he has never seen a luxurious yield of blackberries at all. In the first year after planting, when there is no trellis yet, you can only pour 3-4 buckets per square meter of soil. This is best done at the beginning of October when the soil is definitely not frozen yet and it is best to loosen it slightly beforehand. But remember, it should only be loosened slightly. The roots of blackberries must not be touched, and if the roots are damaged then they will start to grow and regrow shoots from the ground (usually with thorns, even if the original shoots did not have any thorns at all). Plants that are still on the trellis, that is, the second and later years after planting, will of course need to be watered twice as much. This is fine. The water will soak deep into the soil and freeze slowly, without causing any damage to the roots. And, if there is a provocative winter thaw, the roots are unlikely to respond to it, and this thawing of blackberries will not cause any damage.
FERTILIZING BLACKBERRIES After watering (let's decide to do just that) fertilize. 50 grams per square meter of dry calcium superphosphate and 25 grams per square meter of potassium sulfate have proven to be the best for blackberries in the fall. You can also cover them with humus about 1 inch thick.
Important! Nitrogen fertilizer should not be applied in autumn, as this will stimulate the growth activity of the shoots and all of them will freeze, maybe even in the quilt.
The easiest thing is done, now it is necessary to carefully remove and cover the blackberry bushes from the trellis.
Important! Alas, but absolutely no damage to the blackberries can withstand frosts of a few tens of degrees Fahrenheit without exceeding a few tens of degrees Fahrenheit. Then already begin negative changes in the tissue, especially at the tips of the shoots. There have been cases where temperatures have dropped sharply from above 32°F (0°C) to slightly negative values, but within a very short period of time, e.g. within a few hours, resulting in death or severe frostbite of uncovered blackberry plants.
THE RIGHT TIME TO MULCH BLACKBERRIES The most appropriate time is often the end of October (in the middle of the US) when it has started to freeze and you can't wait for the warmth to arrive. The most dangerous thing is if the mulching will be followed by a week or even two weeks of really high temperatures or even rain, which can lead to blackberry rooting. For annuals, this is not fatal: from the root buds, the branches rejuvenate again like a bird's "phoenix". Of course, the gardener will lose the whole season, and if he makes repeated mistakes, he will lose the second season. Here we must be guided by the indications of the weather stations, which sometimes tell us exactly when a steady cold spell is coming. And while we wait for the cold, you can treat blackberries with a 3% Bordeaux solution to rid the plants of winter stage pests and diseases.
As long as the temperature goes down below 32°F (0°C) and doesn't even rise above 32°F (0°C) during the day, blackberry mulching is very possible. As we have already said, the period for mulching blackberries is usually in late October or early November in the central part of the U.S. However, this is in the middle of the country. If you live farther south, you may not need mulch at all, or even be prohibited (shoots will be prohibited because inside, under mulch, a lot of completely unnecessary moisture accumulates, and if there is too much moisture, you can even start rotting the roots, and then the blackberries will die completely). If you live in the north, then you can start mulching a whole month earlier. Therefore, before you mulch, you need to remember some important rules.
Rule #1: Blackberries can be ruined not only by a winter with no snow at all but also by a provocative thaw where frost suddenly turns to rain. In this case, the buds will freeze to death, so try to use extra, such as dried leaves, in addition to the main shelter, which can "take the hit". Rule #2: Do not rush to cover blackberries and wait for a light but steady frost, otherwise both roots and buds will simply uproot. As we have already mentioned, if you rush to cover, a lot of water will accumulate under it; in fact, a greenhouse effect will occur, which will damage the above-ground parts of the plant and the root system. In addition, due to the excess of water, various fungi and bacteria develop very actively. In this case, the shrub will regrow in spring, only if the above-ground part dies or if the top is a bit podgy, but if the roots are affected, the site will have to be laid again. Rule #3: If you live in a western area where the thermometer doesn't go below 14°F (-10°C) in the winter, forget about mulching or use a single layer of agricultural fabric, which "breathes".
Those who have mulched their grapes will find it easier, while those who have not will find it more difficult. Blackberry branches, very carefully so as not to break, should be removed from their supports, wire, and placed on the surface of the soil that has been taken by frost, and gently pinned to them. If the bush is large, tie them together with twine before laying. To exclude the blowing of blackberries, or at least minimize it, it is necessary to cover the shoots already laid on the surface of the soil with dry leaves (or lay branches on top of them, sprinkled with leaves in advance), and afterward with a soil mulch film, something that should be fixed and not tear the wind. This can be bricks on the edge, crates, plywood, etc.
Tumblr media
THE PERFECT MULCHING MATERIAL Gardeners have debated, are debating, and will continue to debate what is the best mulching material for blackberries. Some try to mulch with film, others use agricultural fabrics exclusively, but trust me, whichever way you choose, it still has pros and cons. Take film for example: if you live in the middle of the country, that's fine, but if you're near the south, obviously the temperature changes in the winter can create condensation under the film, leading to the consequences mentioned above. If you have decided to use film, or if you don't have anything else handy, you can use a layer between the plants and the film, for example, a mulch, as in a layer of moss - with double protection: against moisture and against frost. Then there are agro textiles, a relatively new non-woven material that has perfect permeability to water and air (they "breathe"). Even during the thawing period (which occurs in autumn and winter), agro textiles show their good side: they let water pass through and allow it to evaporate.
However, if there is too much water (i.e. active snowmelt in mid-winter), it cannot cope with the evaporation of excess water and it thaws. Therefore, in areas where thawing is active, you better warn yourself and use fir wood, corn, or at least dry leaves covered with twigs or branches. If you have to choose between light and black wool, it is better to choose light wool, because black wool gets very hot in spring (if you live in the city and your blackberries are in a country house, when you go to the country house it will be cooked under black wool). It is recommended for northerners to use sintepon synthetic mulch film, but it should not be placed on the plant, but on pre-layered leaves, dry and free from all kinds of diseases. However, in warm winters with low snow, plants in northern areas may suffer under this type of mulch.
MISTAKES WHEN MULCHING BLACKBERRIES The first mistake: is not appearing under the cover of the poison of mice (believe me, they eat all the buds). The second mistake: is using sawdust as insulation for blackberries. They absorb moisture very quickly, turn into just a block of ice, and then melt very slowly. I personally found a piece of ice as late as July in a pile of sawdust. What's wrong with that? Blackberries don't warm up in the spring, they slowly wilt under the ice and rocks instead. The third mistake: is using straw for mulch. Straw actively attracts rodents, who settle in it, build "apartment buildings" and live there, eating blackberry buds and nibbling on shoots, and in spring it is not easy to remove all the semi-digested winter straw from the site.
The fourth mistake: is delaying the removal of mulch material. Remember to run to the site as soon as the snow melts and the temperature rises to remove the mulching material: a strong frost will not, but a thaw may occur. Make sure you remove the mulching material before the buds on the blackberries swell. Basically, there is nothing particularly complicated: a dozen shrubs, primitive trellis, no less primitive shelter, and the main thing - all the time and at the same time, do not forget the rodents.
#ThumbGarden #Fruits #Blackberries #Blackberry #Garden #Orchard #Mulching #Tips #UrbanGarden #SmallGarden #OutdoorGarden #PlantCare #Care #Inspired #Fertilize #Watering #Pruning #Autumn #Fall
Author: Ms.Geneva Link: https://www.thumbgarden.com/caring-for-blackberries/ Source: ThumbGarden The copyright belongs to the author. For commercial reprints, please contact the author for authorization, and for non-commercial reprints, please indicate the source.
6 notes · View notes