#Canada Bag Production

[bagmanufacturerusa]

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[stenoodie]

Too Good To Go Hauls - June 2023

Too Good To Go Hauls - June 2023. #bingzcrispyburgers #saintgermaincakes #cupcakes #chinesesoup #persianflatbreads #lotsofsaladbags

Too Good To Go hauls in July 2023 Here are my Too Good to Go hauls (31 surprise bags) from stores and restaurants in the Markham, Richmond Hill, Scarborough, and Toronto surrounding areas in June 2023. (Where there is a clear price tag of the goods, surprise bags that meet or are above the minimum value are marked with a green checkmark and surprise bags that do not meet the minimum value are…

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

“Sugar Hoarding Charge Is Made,” Montreal Star. March 18, 1942. Page 3. ---- Board Official Says Farmers Are Getting 100-Pound Lots ---- Farmers from the outlying districts of Montreal have been coming to market here twice a week of the sugar and returning with 100-pound bags of sugar, in violation of rationing regulations, it has been learned by officials of the Wartime Prices and Trade Board.

A preliminary investigation has already been made, L. C. Robitaille, local prices and supply representative of the board, stated today. He added that steps are being taken to put an end to this practice which, he pointed out, carries stiff penalties.

It has been a a long-standing custom, Mr. Robitaille pointed out, for farmers coming to market to exchange their produce with jobbers and wholesale merchants various necessities. It was a convenient arrangement for the farmers, but inquiries have shown that a large proportion of them have been coming to Bonsecours, Maisonneuve or other markets in Montreal and regularly returning with nothing but sugar in quantities from one 100-pound bag to several.

According to the sugar rationing regulations, the allotment of sugar is three-quarters of a pound per person per week, he said, so it is quite apparent that many farmers have been hoarding sugar.

"In our inquiry, we we obtained the names of a number of the merchants and farmers who have been dealing in illegal amounts of sugar," he said, "and have given warning that unless the practice stops immediately, severe action will be taken invoking the penalties provided for such offences."

[derekalexandergroup-blog]

4 Top Summer Bag Trends 2023

There are many types of bags that are perfect for summer, depending on your needs and personal style. Here are some top bag options for summer and when the best time to utilize this summer! read more here

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

The Final Quest

Luke Castellan x Apollo!Reader

Requested by: @reader-bookling123: hiii I had a request for Luke where it kinda takes place in the past but he was dating reader and they were deeply in love but on their quest somehow reader sadly dies and Luke is just heartbroken and angry and he’s mad that everyone just moved on from her and maybe some cute reuniting moment

Summary: How a quest with the love of Luke's life turned him away from the gods

Warnings: Angst, major spoilers for series, graphic description of death, suicide (technically), anger, resentment, pain, fluffy ending, Dionysus and Apollo slander

Word count: 5.5K

Masterlist

Later A/N So I'm just now rereading Titan's Curse for the first time in like four years so I forgot that the Garden of Hesperides is west in the books. However, when I was researching the myth it was said to be some place north so I chose Canada. So that's why it doesn't reflect the book.

“Happy birthday, Luke,” my girlfriend smiled. Our lips were so close our noses were already touching. But just as I could feel the fleeting touch of her lips on mine, there was a flash of light, making her jump away from me in surprise. Looking over to the source of the light, I found my father standing three feet from us on the dock.

Neither of us had time to react before Hermes was speaking. “Hi Luke! Happy birthday. I have a gift for you.”

“Uh… th-thank you,” I tried to sound grateful but I was a little caught off guard and annoyed he ruined the moment.

“Oh, sorry!” he laughed, noticing my girlfriend who was still half in my lap. “How are you Y/N?”

“I- I’m well, Lord Hermes. How are you?” she asked nervously, awkwardly scooting away from me, moving her legs so their weight no longer rested on mine.

“Oh, no need with the Lord stuff. I may not be the god of prophecy but I am the god of gambling and I’m betting you two will get married. We’ll be family!”

“Father,” I tried to interrupt him as the embarrassment coursed through my veins, bringing heat up to my face. I didn’t even want to see Y/N’s reaction I was so nervous and embarrassed.

“Oh, right. Sorry kid. I forgot how much you teenagers hate sharing your feelings. But uh I’ve heard your prayers and offerings Luke and I have a quest for you.” My eyes widened. Finally. All my training would pay off. I could prove myself and go down in history as a hero. “I need you to get me the golden apples in Hesperides’ garden. Hera is getting a little too insufferable these days y’know?”

Y/N and I sent each other looks, our mouths open in hesitation. Our next words had to be careful. If we agreed to the wrong thing we’d be insulting Hera and I was sure she’d strike us down right here. She didn’t like demigods, to her we were an offense to marriage. Especially the ones that were a product of offense to her own marriage. “Thank you for the quest,” I carefully dodged his last comment.

“Of course, kid. Here, you’ll need this.” He snapped his fingers and in another blaze of heavenly light, a duffle bag appeared in his hands. “Well, good luck. I’ll see you back here when you bring me my apples,” he smiled, handing me the bag. “Uh, avert your eyes,” he warned. Waiting for us to cover our eyes, he disappeared in a golden spray of light.

When the world dimmed again I turned to Y/N. “Oh my god!” she yelled excitedly. She stood up, throwing her arms around me, almost knocking us both into the water. I laughed, hugging her tightly in return. “Luke, you’re gonna be a hero!” she gushed, pulling away so she could look at me.

“We’re gonna be heroes,” I assured her, placing a hand on her face. “Come with me,” I requested. My heart was thumping quickly in my chest out of excitement and nervousness. “We can be the Greek Bonnie and Clyde. Hundreds of years from now demigods will read our myths and say, ‘We can be like Y/N and Luke.’”

She looked at me, confused. “Luke, they were criminals and died tragically,” she laughed a little at the ridiculousness of it all.

“Okay wrong analogy but you get the idea. Please, I can’t do this without you.” As much as I wanted my glory, I knew the Daughter of Apollo wanted it too. And I’d be damned if I couldn’t give it to her.

“Okay, okay,” she laughed. “I’ll go with you.”

“Yes!” I cheered, hugging her so tightly I ended up lifting her off the wooden docks. She laughed as I began to spin, even almost spinning us into the cold water.

~

After talking to Chiron and getting my prophecy, Y/N and I were off in a car that Mr. D had somehow acquired. The only reason we were allowed to take it was because I was 17 and had a little driving experience from when I would take my mom’s car when she was too out of it to even get groceries. I shook off the thoughts as Y/N once again went through our supplies and plan. She seemed nervous even though I assured her numerous times we’d be fine.

“Drachma, cash, ambrosia, passports, drivers license, an enchanted map, and a bow and arrow,” she repeated the contents of the duffle bag. “The Garden of Hesperides is in northern Canada,” she mused, looking at the map. “Heracles defeated Ladon with a bow and arrow by piercing each head through the eye.”

“Yeah, we’ll be fine,” I assured, reaching across the center console to place a reassuring hand on her thigh. I left it there, rubbing calming circles on the skin of her leg with my thumb. “Heracles did it before…” I said, the words slowly dying as they came out. Heracles already did it. I tried to shake off the thought that I was just redoing a quest. They were so uncommon nowadays it was an honor to be chosen for one. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself to chase the doubt away. Besides, Heracles technically failed his quest, he didn’t bring them to Eurystheus. I would succeed in bringing them to the person who had requested them.

“What was the prophecy again?” she asked, still looking at the map.

I swallowed nervously. The prophecy was not optimistic for us. I couldn’t possibly imagine what we’d find out about each other on this trip that would cause us to lose our love for one another. “You shall go north to fruits, rare / Liar to liar, a father’s heir, / Loves will be lost in Ladon’s lair,” I repeated.

“‘You shall go north to fruits, rare,’” she repeated. “Obviously that means we’re going north to find the golden apples. “‘Liar to Liar, a father’s heir.’ Hermes is the god of lies. And I guess stealing makes you deceitful. Ergo, a liar… ‘Loves will be lost in Ladon’s lair,’” she repeated. I could hear the dread infiltrating her voice.

“Hey,” I interrupted her thinking with a squeeze to her thigh, “that could mean anything. Prophecies are just a guide. A starting point. It was so short and vague that we don’t even know if it’s talking about us. We’ll be fine,” I promised again.

“Yeah, of course,” came her voice. I glanced away from the road, finding a weak smile on her face.

“What kind of music does Dionysus have?” I asked, trying to change the subject. She opened the glove compartment, several things falling out of it.

She began to go through them. “Um, a concerning amount of Weird Al Yankovic.” I laughed as she continued to look through. She then gasped. “Oh my gods.” She held up something next to me that I took. I nearly slammed on the brakes as I glanced down at it.

I couldn’t stare at the CD in my hand too long so we wouldn’t crash but every time I glanced down at it I found a new horrifyingly wonderful detail on the album cover. It was Mr. D with the weirdest haircut I had ever seen. He was lying down on a cheetah print rug, his shirt was a zebra print and had the first several buttons undone so the viewer could see all of his glorious chest hair. That wasn’t even the most outrageous part. Mr. D was lying down next to a tiger with a gold chain around its neck. Hanging from the chain was presumably Mr. D’s stage name, “Dionomite” written in gold cursive and studded with diamonds. “We have to listen to this!”

“Already ahead of you,” she said, punching buttons on the dash. She took the CD from me and put it in. Once it was ready, our ears were immediately assaulted with the sound of various horn instruments being poorly played. “Did he play all the instruments himself?”

“Probably,” I answered as Mr. D’s voice came on. “Oh…” was all I could say as the squeaky singing made my eardrums bleed.

It was funny for a couple songs but then it just got annoying so we switched over to a single Beatles album.

~

We reached the Canadian border in only a couple hours. Thanks to the Mist we could drive as fast as we wanted without fear of mortal cops.

As we pulled up to the gate, the guard switched. Must have been a shift change. I thought nothing of it as I rolled down the window. “Passports?” the guard tiredly asked. His eyes were shielded by sunglasses despite the fact that he was under shade. I became wary but handed him the documents anyway. “Any plants, animals, dairy products, or drugs in the car?” he asked.

“No,” I answered.

“What’s the nature of your quest, demigods?” The customs officer removed his sunglasses, revealing a single eye. He then grew about three feet, revealing a cyclops.

“Hit the gas!” Y/N yelled beside me. I did, taking off. Now we had both a cyclops and the Canadian border police after us as I crashed through the plastic gate that went up and down. I swerved around guards and other cars, getting up on sidewalks and surely ruining the paint job.

But up ahead I could see them closing a heavy looking gate. Gods on our side or not we weren’t getting through that gate. So I swerved into the trees. “Hold on!” they were sparse enough that the car could fit in between the trees. Glancing in the mirror, I could no longer see border guards. But there was a 9 foot tall cyclops following us in the distance. Which would be fine, he’d never catch up to the car but the woods were getting thicker and now I didn’t know which way was the road.

Nature made its decision for me as I heard Y/N’s scream. “Luke look out!” But it was too late. A violent force stopped us and the car was suddenly still. There was so much force I was half afraid the cyclops had a friend but I just found a tree in the middle of the hood where the engine used to be. “Run!” I told my girlfriend, frantically unbuckling my seatbelt.

I ran to the other side, finding her struggling with the seatbelt. She threw the duffle bag at me before pulling out her knife and cutting the seatbelt away. When she hopped out, I took her hand. We ran further into the trees, the cyclops’ thunderous footsteps right behind us.

“Luke, we can’t run forever,” she breathed. She was right. We’d run out of energy before that thing did.

I thought for a moment, thinking of how we’d kill this thing. “At that big tree,” I pointed to a huge pine tree right in our path, “split up. Then we’ll circle back around and hit him from the side.” She nodded in understanding. We ran full speed at the tree until we each turned on the balls of our feet, dashing out of the cyclops’ path. The plan worked better than expected because he ran face first into the solid pine tree.

He crumpled to the ground, giving me time to retrieve my sword from the duffle bag. By the time I looked up, Y/N was already dancing around the beast, cutting him up with her knife. I jumped in, giving him the same treatment. We worked as a flawless team, striking and giving the other space as needed. Until finally, she cut the thing’s heels, forcing him to the ground. I took the opportunity to stab him in the eye, leaving behind only a pile of shimmery ichor.

When he was gone, I immediately pulled Y/N in my arms. Even at the relative safety of camp, I always needed her in my arms to calm down after battle. To assure myself that she was still there and I was still alive. The sound of her breath in my ear helped ground me. “Are you okay?” I asked.

“Yeah, you?” Her face was still buried in my shoulder.

“Yeah. Sorry I crashed the car.” She chuckled, pulling away from me.

“You’re forgiven. C’mon, let’s go see what supplies we can save and start walking.”

While the car was unsalvageable, all of our stuff was fine. So we grabbed out backpacks full of winter clothes and started following the map. It wasn’t that bad now but it’d be cold by the time night fell so I forced Y/N to put on sweatpants over her shorts.

I was kind of hoping the map would take us to civilization where we could rest for the night but it just seemed to bring us deeper into the forest and we had no flashlight. As it got darker and colder I got more nervous. “We have to find some sort of shelter for tonight.”

“I know it’s dark but it’s not that-” A pack of wolves howling cut her off. “Okay, yeah,” she agreed. She began looking around. “Any chance you could climb one of these trees? I don’t really want to be on the ground.”

I shook my head. “Even if I could get up high enough I don’t think any of the branches would support us.”

She huffed. “Shelter it is, I guess.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the wolves,” I teased. She had just killed a literal cyclops but she was afraid of some dogs.

“Hey, I don’t mess with wolves,” she said sternly. “After I saw that one movie about the kids stuck on the ski lift. You wouldn’t catch me in the woods at night yet here we are.”

“What about Capture the Flag?” I asked as we started collecting stuff to make a shelter.

“Well that’s different. There’s like 30 of us out there.”

“Do you want me to start sticking with you during the games? You know, if a wolf wanders in?” I teased.

“I’ll make my own shelter for tonight, thank you very much,” she said matter o’ factly.

“No, no, no. I’m sorry,” I apologized, tugging her back to me as she tried to storm off to get supplies. “Besides, we need each other’s body heat to keep us warm,” I whispered teasingly.

“Not a chance out here,” she scolded me.

“Worth a try,” I shrugged. “Everyone knows you can better preserve body heat if you’re not wearing clothes.” She just gave me an exasperated look before walking off again. “I’m joking!” I yelled after her.

By the time we had the shelter built up only about an hour had passed. We used pine needles to try to protect out bodies from the cold ground. And we used our winter coats as a blanket since we zipped them together. We laid down in the shelter, still shivering despite our best efforts. I held her close as she curled up against my chest, her head tucked under my chin. “Get some sleep,” I told her. “I’ll keep watch.”

“Okay,” she agreed. “Wake me in a few hours and I’ll take over.” I agreed with absolutely no intentions of waking her up. Judging by how fast her breathing evened out despite her constant shivers, she needed the sleep more than me. In the morning she’d yell at me for not waking her but it was worth it.

~

We had only been walking for a few minutes when we came across sled dogs. Ten siberian huskies all laying around patiently, harnessed to a sled. “Maybe these were the wolv-”

“Shut up,” she warned, giving me a light smack against the shoulder. I laughed as she hesitantly approached the dogs. “Hey guys, you waiting for someone?” She slowly reached her hand out to one of the dogs who calmly sniffed it before licking it eagerly. She gave him some scratches behind the ear in return. “Awe you’re such a good boy.” The dogs were now all up, wagging their tails and whining for pets.

I went up to the sled, finding a satchel tied to it. Opening it I found dog treats and a note. “All good huntresses need a pack of wolves.” Underneath it was a crescent moon. I clenched my jaw, recognizing the sender of the gift. Her aunt, Artemis. Last year, during the winter solstice, Artemis and her hunters had visited briefly. One of the hunters, Zoe, befriended Y/N. And even after she had told them she had a boyfriend, they still tried to recruit her. It never sat right with me, the way Artemis seemed so okay with breaking up a relationship.

“It’s for you,” I told Y/N, handing her the note. I handed her the note and she took it. She just sighed before stuffing it back into the satchel. “I don’t know why she’s so determined to recruit you.”

“I don’t know either,” she said, already tying our stuff to the sled. “But she’s gonna be disappointed because I’m kind of really into this one guy. I don’t know if you know him but he’s the son of Hermes. He’s gonna be a great Greek hero.” Her praise was enough for me to let go of my anger. Stooping down, I pressed a kiss to her lips.

The pack of sled dogs was perfect for the Canadian wilderness except for one problem. There was no snow. Still, they managed to pull us so smoothly it was like snow.

Soon enough, we pulled up to a garden. If it weren’t for the fact that they were literally in the middle of nowhere, this garden would be unassuming. It had a white picket fence and looked to be about an acre. Thousands of different types of plants grew, enchanting us with its smell. Off in the distance, in the middle of the garden, I could faintly see the golden fruits, the sun glinting off of them.

“The nymphs never gave Heracles a problem,” Y/N shrugged. I nodded, cautiously opening the gate, sword in hand. She held the bow up, an arrow already knocked. A quiver of them were slung over her back.

We crept in quietly, watching for signs of danger. She would watch our surroundings and made sure no nymphs attacked us while I kept an eye on the multi-headed dragon, making sure he didn’t stir.

Once we were about 20 feet away, he still wasn’t stirring. Y/N kneeled down behind some greenery, lining up her arrow. She took aim and fired. The arrow bounced harmlessly off one of the many scale covered head. The beast didn’t so much as stir. She looked back at me, as if seeking assurance. I nodded, telling her to try again. But rather than just take aim again, she crept a little closer. I almost told her to get back but I was afraid the dragon would wake up at my yelling. I held my breath, heart pounding as she tried again. This time she sunk it right through the eyelid but before either of us could react, another head moved. It snapped at her, jaws clenching around her waist. My blood turned to ice as I heard her pained scream. It was so horrifying to hear my body seemed to turn to lead.

I needed to save her. I forced my body into a run. I slashed at the neck that was currently holding my girlfriend in the air. Ladon dropped her, not without a claw slashing at me in turn. I managed to dodge it, scrambling over to Y/N. I wasn’t even comprehending whether or not she was conscious or if she was alive. I was too busy trying to tug her away. Golden fucking apples be damned.

I reached her, grabbing her by her shoulders and trying to tug her to safety. But before I could make much progress, the beast’s claw was in my face again. But I noticed it too late this time, too focused on my girlfriend’s very pale face. The claw hit me in the face, sweeping me to the side. I couldn’t feel the pain but I could see the blood seeping into my vision. I tried to wipe it away but it just kept coming. With my non-blinded eye I could see Ladon going back to his prior position as if we were nothing. Like he wasted no energy maiming us. Nonetheless, it allowed me to grab her by the shoulders, shaking her awake.

“Y/N, we need to go!” I said frantically, worried he’d come back for round two if we didn’t get out soon. “Can you walk?” I looked down at her body and knew the answer. Her shirt was covering the extent of her wounds but teeth marks, each a few inches across, tore through her shirt and there was blood. So much blood.

“With help,” she said in a strangled voice.

“Okay, good,” I nodded. Her assurance eased me slightly. I slung her arm across my shoulder before pulling her up. She screamed as I raised her off the ground but nevertheless gritted her teeth and bore it.

“No!” she cried as I tried to wrap my arm around her to support her weight. I realized that in doing so I’d be pressing into her wounds. She sobbed in pain the entire time we slowly stumbled out of the garden. It pained me to hear her cries but I had to get her out of here. If I could just get her to the sled I could give her some ambrosia and she’d be fine.

When I finally got her outside the gate, I laid her down. I’d get her onto our transportation once she wasn’t in such a critical condition. “Hold on, I’ll get you some ambrosia,” I told her, moving toward the sled. But the weakest tug held me back.

I looked down at her, finding blood, sweat, and tears covering her face. “No,” she cried. Tears were pouring down her face as sobs wracked her body. “Ambrosia won’t help.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” I held her face. Oh, her beautiful face. My heart clenched seeing it twisted in agony. “You’re gonna be fine. I promised you. I’m not a liar…” Tears were falling down my face now. She’s not fine. I realized that I’d become an unknowing liar.

Her hand reached up to my face, her thumb swiping over my blood covered cheek. “You’re not a liar. We were doomed from the start.” She took a labored breath and deep inside, I knew it was the end for her.

“Come on, no. Don’t leave. Please don’t leave,” I cried. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her into my lap. As if physically holding on to her would keep her from slipping through my fingers like the wind. “Just hold on until I can get you to a hospital.”

“We don’t have time.” A small smile tugged at her face and I knew she was smiling through the pain for my sake. “I love you, Luke. Promise me you’ll move on?”

“What? No. You know I won’t. You’re the love of my life,” I insisted.

“Please, at least try?” she asked. “I don’t want you following me too soon,” she tried to joke. But her laugh turned into pained sobs as the movement hurt her body.

I cried harder seeing her in so much pain. Her breathing was getting shallower and more labored. “Fine, I’ll try,” I swore. Lie. “I love you. So much.”

“I’ll see you in Elysium,” she said through a peaceful smile. It would be a welcome sight if it weren’t for the blood bubbling up out of her mouth. I turned her to the side slightly so she wouldn’t choke on it but it wasn’t enough. The blood was coming faster and her body was shutting down. “I love you,” she whispered before her eyes fluttered shut.

“No, wake up!” I cried, shaking her slightly. “Wake up!” Her breaths were getting shorter and I was getting more desperate. “Do something!” I yelled up at the sky. Her father. My father. Anyone! But no one came. Her wounds didn’t stitch themselves together and her eyes didn’t open. I held her tightly, sobbing into her shoulder long after she stopped breathing. Even the dogs started howling at the gods when her heart stopped beating.

~~~

“That’s why I hate the gods,” I murmured to Percy, watching the scorpion slowly creep up his leg. “They finally granted me a quest. It was all I ever wanted. But it was a joke. All my father wanted to do was piss off Hera and he was okay with using me and my girlfriend as collateral damage. And her father, Apollo,” the name came out of his mouth like venom, “the god of prophecy and healing let his daughter die. He knew she was going to die, even before the quest. And when he had the opportunity to save her, he ignored her.”

“I’m sorry she died but-”

“No!” I cut Percy off. “It would be one thing if she just died but she died over a fucking prank war. She died an agonizing death. Her aunt, Artemis, intervened in our quest but she still let her niece die a slow, painful death. They didn’t even help me bring her back to camp so she could be buried properly. I had to bury her in the woods like I had killed her and was covering up a crime.” I swiped away a tear as I noticed it slip down my face. I still couldn’t decide what was worse. Feeling her die in my arms or leaving her out there in the woods to rot. “And to make matters worse, no one seemed to care that she died. When I finally got back to camp a month later, they just pitied me. I begged Chiron to let me and some others go get her so we could give her a proper funeral but he refused. And when I tried to get others to join me to convince him, no one would go. After a couple days no one seemed to care that Y/N L/N was dead. A week later, another Apollo camper was claimed and they just gave her bunk away to him. Like she meant nothing.”

“But why Kronos? I’ve never heard of a demigod turning away from the gods. Even when horrible things happened.”

I sighed in contentment, remembering the projection he showed me. “Because he can bring her back. We’ll be immortal and without pain forever. He showed her to me. He said she’s happy in Elysium but she misses me,” I smiled softly. “But she misses camp too,” I laughed bitterly. “Annabeth, Grover, she probably would’ve missed you had you two met. But she never got the opportunity. But now, with Kronos, I’ll get to give her everything she wants.” I looked over at the kid. He seemed so deep in thought I wasn’t sure he’d heard me. “Goodbye Percy,” I said as I stood.

“I’ll tell everyone at camp about you!” he called after me.

“If you make it. Pit scorpion venom will kill you in 60 seconds. Even if you do make it, I’ll still be long gone.”

~~~

I sunk the blade into my Achilles heel, destroying Kronos’ life source inside me. I laughed as I could feel him leaving me. And continued to laugh as I fell to the ground and felt my own life draining out of me. Looking up, I found Annabeth above me, her curls hanging in my face. “I’m gonna see Y/N,” was all I said.

Tears welled in her eyes as I felt her comforting hand stroke my hair. “Yeah you are. I know how much you missed her.”

“I’ll see you there too,” I promised her, just like Y/N promised me.

~

I stood in front of the Judges of the Underworld. I knew I messed up in my life but my sacrifice had to amount to something. And I had to get to Elysium. “Luke Castellan,” Minos read my name. “You are charged with… starting a war against the gods?” he read in disbelief. “Why were you not immediately sentenced to the Fields of Punishment?” If I still had a heart it’d be in my feet right now. I couldn’t go to the Fields of Punishment. “You should have cut your losses and taken the express line to the Fields of Asphodel.”

“Keep reading,” Rhadamanthus said, not even looking up from the papers.

Minos rolled his eyes but kept going. “Oh, you sacrificed yourself, killing Kronos and saving Olympus and all of humanity. Hmm. Well, you did still start a war with the gods.”

Aeacus leaned over. “Minos, this really is more of a formality than anything. All the gods have already given him a pass.”

Minos huffed. “Fine,” he picked up a gold gavel, “Elysium!” he declared.

Before I could even thank him I was transported into what looked like the Apollo cabin. It was strange, I knew this was supposed to be the Apollo cabin but it didn’t have all the bunks. It looked like a normal house but something about it felt so familiar. I looked around, realizing I was standing in the living room. This must be Y/N’s house, it even smelled like her. Decorating the walls were pictures of her and her friends and siblings. But on the mantle and side tables were pictures of us. I picked one up, noticing the fingerprint markings all over it. She must pick it up a lot.

Looking around, I found glass French doors in the kitchen that led outside. The view was breathtaking. Mountains rose up on either side of the bluest lake I had ever seen. I went outside, intending to enjoy the view. As I stepped outside I could smell fresh air and feel a perfect breeze. “Hey stranger,” a voice came from beside me. I turned, immediately letting out a choked sob as I saw her sitting there. She stood, coming to me and I immediately snatched her into my arms. She shushed me, stroking my back as I sobbed in her shoulder. “You came way earlier than I wanted but I’m glad to see you.”

I pulled away so I could see her face. The blood, sweat, and tears were gone. It was just her beautiful, perfect face. “You’re actually here,” I said, reaching a hand up to her face. I was terrified she’d disappear again just like she did when Kronos showed her to me in my dreams.

“I’m here. And so are you,” she smiled. “We’ll be immortal and without pain forever,” she swore.

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Luke.”

~

Decades later we were opening our door to see Percy and Annabeth standing there. “Y/N!” Annabeth cried, jumping into my wife’s arms.

“Hey Annabeth!” she laughed, clutching the woman in a hug.

I looked over to Percy, finding him with smile lines and salt and pepper hair. “Hey cuz,” I smiled, extending my hand. Percy shook it and pulled me into a hug which I returned. I patted him on the back as I pulled away. “You know you can look any age you want here? You don’t have to be an old man.”

“I’m not an old man,” he insisted. “I was 80. Just anything older than 16 year old me looks old to you.”

I shrugged, he wasn’t wrong. I turned to Annabeth, giving her a hug too.

Y/N took Percy’s hand. “Percy, it’s so nice to finally meet you. Everyone from camp whose already here has said great things.”

He smiled at her. “I’ve heard the same about you,” he returned, glancing at me. “Well we brought blue cake for dessert.”

Masterlist

A/N Omg this is quite possibly the angstiest thing I've ever written. But it also has one of my favorite endings. Thanks for requesting this, I really enjoyed writing it

[newsfromstolenland]

What other disturbing things do interracial couples have to deal with in Canada? Those sound awful.

I mean. I'm not going to list everything but I'll tell you a bit about it. I'm not really interested in describing my extremely traumatic experiences in detail, but I'll give you general idea

I'm the product of an interracial marriage and am in an interracial relationship myself. canada is...sucks about this kind of thing.

despite the carefully cultivated image of "multiculturalism" that the colonial state maintains, canada is very racist

a significant aspect of racism is the simultaneous fetishization and rejection of interracial relationships

by fetishization, I mean the way white people think it's acceptable to objectify people of colour based on race. they can get off to porn of women of colour being abused, or that paints black men as violent and abusive, they can talk about asian and latin american making good "submissive" wives (which. lol. they clearly don't know much about us)

and as long as we're sexual objects, the broader white canadian society doesn't seem to object very much. but a happy healthy interracial relationship is met with disgust

my gf is mixed but very much white passing, and often white guys who mistake her for a fellow white guy will try to talk about how she bagged a (and this is a quote) "thick brown chick"

because this fantasy allows them to see me as her property, there is very little hesitation to talk about it- even to congratulate her on it

however, my parents (a brown muslim immigrant man and a white woman) are constantly met with disgust. them being married, in their 50s, and having multiple grown up children leaves little room for classic fetishization tropes. so instead, white people default to disgust.

I think of all the times I've witnessed my mom being asked if she "feels safe" with my dad, if he hits her, if he tries to make her convert Islam, if he tries to make her wear a hijab (we're Ismaili...)

a lifetime of micro-aggressions carries a heavy weight.

and then of course there are the systemic issues:

Until 1985, women with Indian status who married someone without status lost their status rights. Men, on the other hand, did not lose Indian status in the same way.

and the "Indian" status of Indigenous people's parents continues to impact their status and thus access to land claims

racial segregation in canada had a huge impact on people's ability to form interracial relationships. while not explicitly illegal, segregation made the expectations for relationships and marriages abundantly clear- and segregated schools existed in canada until the 1980s

^ this impacted black people specifically, and it was known that their safety was at risk should they go against the set expectations

[thecheekyblog]

How to invest into yourself

In the past 15 years, there as been so many tools and new age techniques to change yourself. All of them more and more complex than the one before. Either it is weird diet, or wall Pilates, there will always be new ways to improve yourself.

However, i had to look back into old traditional beauty tips that have proven effective and helpful. The beauty of those tips is that most of them can be done at home at a very low cost which i love.

So here is a list of things that i do to invest in myself.

Let’s start by the physical investement.

The biggest investment i did was with my teeth. I did Invisalign and now i have a million dollar smile. I understand that teeth are expensive but if you have a chance to do so, it is a long term change that you will not regret. Also Try to go to the dentist at least once a year for a clean up.

My new smile actually even changed my face and i love it.

If you cannot do invinsalign, you can definitely ensure that your teeth are white at all times. I used white strip ( the best one is crest Hollywood white stripe ) with whiting toothpaste! Do it twice a week and within a month your smile will look amazing.

After investing in my teeth, it came time to take care of my skin.

I needed to update my skin care but honestly , with time I realize that the real trick was to be constant and have a simple routine that is easy to follow. It is important to have good product but if you are not committed to the routine there is no point into investing in pricey skincare.

You need to start by understanding what kind of skin you have and base on that RESEARCH the type of product that will work for it.

I double wash my face, than toner, serum, moisturizer than face oil. While my face still look like a glazed doughnut, I will gua sha the fuck out of my face and luvvs Gua sha keeps my skin tight and young. So do not sleep on that.

I not only take face of my face skin but also my whole entire body. I will turn my bathroom into a spa once a week and do a good hammam session to my self. I will take a warm bath for a good 20min just to make sure that the scrubbing is smooth sailing. I would use Moroccan black soap to exfoliate my body. After the exfoliation, i would be taking a warm shower and moisturized my skin with natural shea butter. If you live in Canada, you can find great one at your local Marshall with body oil.

Making sure that i look good, i started getting those cutes fits that would make me feel like that girl, invest in quality product because i now wanted the best of the best for myself. I don’t mean to break a bag but definitely not being cheap with my self. So instead of being the cheapest option, let’s say i will be looking into things that match my budget but still are good. I will take more time researching for things instead of just getting the product that was just cheap.

There will be always many option of the same things so just taking an extra sec to look into those options is you investing into yourself. You cannot be the best version of yourself by doing the same thing and buying the same thing as before. You wont change by doing the same!

Now let’s talk about investing to our mental and confidence!

It all fun and game to look good but if you do feel good about yourself. All of this will be worth nothing.

If you can afford it and if needed, talking to a professional or life coach can be life changing. Learning new skills and making yourself some goals will build your confidence so fast.

Something that really help me feel better about myself was podcast. I would listen to a shit ton of self improvement podcast and it really help me see things differently and broaden my perspective on life. READING too was game changer. So far, since the beginning of this year, i have read 4 books so far and reading my 5th right now. I never felt so smart ! But you know what i mean. Keep learning , reading , journaling , it will keep your brain sharp!

Honestly the best kind of investment you can do for yourself is to invest TIME INTO YOURSELF. Whatever you decide to do, take time doing. Make time when you do your skin care, make time when you talk to yourself, make time for your workout, shopping, hair care, body care.

Just invest time into everything you do. Every time you will try to cheat and go the easy way, you will never win. YOU ARE REBUILDING YOURSELF AND IT WILL TAKE TIME!

Invest time into your budget, finance and you will be able to reach your goals!

Believe me when i say that i am a living proof of investing time into yourself will change/better the person that you are. The more i worked on my self the more i became the woman of my dream and I know you can do it too.

Xoxo cheeky

[1000-silverfish-in-a-hoodie]

Trans Tips for Camp Staff

(This is going to be long)

General tips:

Bring a small bag/backpack to carry throughout the day. Bring a large water bottle. Use more sunscreen than you think you need. Focus on your campers and have fun!

Cabins/bathrooms:

Camps will have different policies about accommodations. Some will offer gender neutral opinions. Some cabins may also have change rooms. Check the kind of accommodations your camp offers, and voice your cabin preferences as soon as possible. If you’re worried about privacy, you can request to change in a bathroom or practise inside a sleeping bag.

Binding/tucking:

You will likely be working long hours and exercising. It will be uncomfortable and unsafe to bind/tuck for the full work day. Do not put yourself at risk. It sucks, but your safety is a top priority. You can keep a binder/gaff in your bag and change in bathrooms. If you put a binder on at the beginning of the day, put a sports bra in your bag to change later. If you use (safe) tape, make sure you follow product instructions and slowly remove it with oil (vegetable oil is a cheap option).

Breast forms/packers:

You will sweat more in the summer, this could make packers or breast forms uncomfortable. If you’re using prosthetics, make sure to wash them often and follow care instructions. A shower or single stall washroom is the best place to wash. You can keep them in a ziplock bag, inside a backpack or suitcase pocket for cleanliness and privacy. Socks might be a better choice for camp as they are more discreet and can be washed with your laundry.

HRT:

Camps will have different policies on staff medication. Check with the healthcare team about where staff meds will be kept. If you’re staying in cabin and use injections, you may need to request some time in a private area to do your injections.

Showers:

Showers will likely be inconvenient for all staff. Your camp may or may not offer gender neutral showers. Dry shampoo is great if you don’t have time/too dysphoric too shower, but is not a replacement. The shower is probably the best area too shave.

Swimming:

Some camps require all staff to be on the water with campers (with exceptions for accessibility concerns). This is a matter of camper safety. Avoid cotton swim shirts, they increase the risk of hypothermia, an old non-cotton exercise shirt can be a good option. Some camps will have dress codes for swim wear.

High Challenge:

Some camps will offer high challenge courses. These may require staff to wear a belay harness. Harnesses can induce dysphoria, especially for people with penises.

Managing dysphoria:

Try to make friends with people who will affirming your gender. If comfortable, you can wear a pronoun pin. Bring clothes/hygiene products you enjoy. Camp will be busy, try to focus on having fun with your campers! If you’re struggling with mental health, tell a trusted supervisor as soon as possible.

Kids:

Kids will probably have a lot of questions, some might be about your gender. You only need to answer whatever your comfortable with. Otherwise you can just say “that’s private” or something similar. If a parent is concerned about trans staff, direct them to a supervisor, that shouldn’t be your responsibility.

Bullying/discrimination/harassment:

If you experience any of this, report it as soon as possible. Your camp should have an anti bullying and/or anti harassment policy, refer to it for next steps.

Feel free to ask anymore questions!

Disclaimer: this is based off my experience as a white, able bodied, openly trans man working at a fairly progressive overnight camp in “Canada”/turtle island. I have worked there for 4 years (one year round) in counselling, programming, and leadership/supervising positions.

[allthecanadianpolitics]

Ontario Superior Court fined the Canada Bread Company $50 million on Wednesday after it pleaded guilty to price-fixing. It is the highest price-fixing fine in Canada ever, according to the Competition Bureau of Canada. Canada Bread pleaded guilty to four counts of price-fixing under the Competition Act, admitting that it arranged with Weston Foods, a competitor, to increase the prices of various bagged and sliced bread products. Those included sandwich bread, hot dog buns and rolls. The price-fixing resulted in two price increases — one in 2007 and one in 2011. The Competition Bureau previously alleged that Canada Bread and Weston Bakeries, which is owned by George Weston Ltd., the parent company of grocery chain Loblaw, had agreed to increase bread prices over a 14-year period. The two companies are the largest bread makers in Canada. [...]

Continue Reading.

Note from the poster @el-shab-hussein: Pete Buttgieg anyone?

Tagging: @politicsofcanada, @vague-humanoid

[codename-adler]

first snowstorm of the winter here in Montréal, Canada so…

Foxes vs. the great white shitstorm

Kevin: PTSD from the-skiing-accident-that-never-was bc that’s how far his trauma goes BUT will brave the snow if accompanied bc Exy is an interior sport thank u mom for that one. chances are he also probably bunkered down at the Foxhole court beforehand so he wouldn’t have to witness a single snowflake nor be separated from his one true love. bunker supplies include a shit ton of OJ bc the man is fighting away the flus and the colds like it’s The Plague Part II: 1347.

Matt: has to be stopped by Dan, once again, from buying a snow plow to fix in front of his truck. like every place where winter = snow, the PSU campus is severely unprepared for the onslaught, it’s like they’ve never seen this shit before and if I could just help out the community that way it would be a win-win for everybody Dan don’t you get it? it’s still a no, so Matt proceeds with unleashing his energy outside, alone, grumbling and building snowmen (and snowphalluses once Nicky joins in)

Nicky: DECKS THE HALLS EVERY-FUCKING-WHERE, FA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA. it’s tradition for him to wait until the first snowfall before decorating for Christmas, as a compromise (if it truly were up to him, 1st of November would be Christmas Tree Day, but he made a deal with the twins who, despite despising their birthday, would absolutely not have Jingle Bells and and holly on November 4th). the thing with Nicky is, he exhausts himself very, very fast and loses focus/productivity in the blink of an eye, so all you see is a path of garlands and pine needles leading to a zoned out Nicky munching on frootloops in a beanbag. the Foxes will have to finish what he started.

Allison: during daytime? fab as ever, hyped to get out her winter outfits and order another 3k of winter gear, boots, scarves, gloves etc. for herself. then she shops some more for the Foxes, some genuine bougie shit, some wtf shit to make fun of this season's chosen victims (see: Kevin always, a little bit Neil to chase away the nightmare of the past year, and this year's winners: Dan and Aaron). but once nighttime hits? it's war time. it's UGLY time. thermo one-piece suit, the old 3XL PSU Foxes men's sweatshirt Seth bought himself in his first year, tight braid shoved under a tight camo sports balaclava, spy goggles slapped on her naked-bar-fake-lashes face, heavy duty boots, and snowballs. yes, snowballs. starting this year, she's initiating the Yearly Foxes Snowball War. she's got her Santa bag ready and full of compact snowballs as she goes down the hall, breaking and entering every Fox dorm and obliterating them unprovoked. queen behavior. conquering among the squeals of Matt Aaron Kevin the vanquished!

Renee: hater mode activated. it's only for the first snow, it's only for one day, but it's brutal. her smile is tight, her socks are fucking wet by noon and she's had it. the little gremlin dives under a pile yay-high of blankets, destroying one or two of her advent calendars and eating 25-50 pieces of chocolate to sate her ire. she's the only one safe from Allison's assault, she's only asked if she'd like to join in the snowball fight instead, which is a hard no from Renee. next year, though, Allison's provided her with the same tech-gear and she's ready to unleash her anger on her unsuspecting teammates. but only after the chocolates.

Dan: nope. nope nope nope. she's so cold. so cold. she's craving warmth wherever she can, making the Foxes jump when she shoves her iced hands or feet into them. she's bundled up in layers upon layers of clothes. she's drinking coffee and tea by the gallon. she's scrambling for every lip balm she can get her hands on. she's making soup, and soup, and more soup. spicy ramen, three beans, lipton, chicken cream, veggie mix. she's got 2 thermos at all times, one hot drink, one hot soup. soup mama.

Aaron: first victim of cold season. if there's a snowflake, Aaron's got snot. no amount of ginger shots, garlic nostrils, citrus slices or soup can prevent the inevitable. man down by sunset, congested af, broody and pitiful. everybody makes fun of him, most of all Neil. look at the hot shot doctor bested by a lil cough-cough. the one year he didn't get sick so early, he had to get the new flu shot bc he's premed. needless to say, man down again.

Neil: ultimate x-games galore, here he comes! for the first time in his life, he's allowed to indulge, and try out every winter sport under the sun. Exy's still his wife, but man is snowboard up there with snowshoes-running and ice-skating and sledding. he's monstrously good at hockey, to Kevin's great disappointment. he thinks he'd have quite liked being a hockey player hadn't it been for Exy. and the mafia. anyways, he's unstoppable, he's exhausting, he's everything. he's Barbie.

Andrew: tiny emo beef man is fucking-A-ready. winter tires ON, tire chains ON, windshield cover ON, broom and shovels ACQUIRED, hot chocolate cupboard FULL, cleated boots SHARPENED, hotshots warmers STACKED. and then he just- doesn't move. not one iota. absolute pillow princess without any fucking involved. that man is not getting out there, despite the Foxes' wailings of needing a ride, needing groceries, needing a hand. he is ready, doesn't mean he's involved. c'mon, the dude's got multiple plans for a zombie apocalypse, you think a little snow's gonna stop him? yes, actually.

and that's all folks... for now. fuck /yeah/ snow!

[bagmanufacturerusa]

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[stenoodie]

Too Good To Go Hauls - May 2023

My Too Good To Go Hauls from May 2023. #29surprisebags #customerservicefrustration #delayedresponses #somanyundervaluedbags

The hauls I got from Too Good To Go in May 2023 Download and use the free Too Good To Go app to help restaurants, grocery stores, and convenience stores save food from going to the waste for a one third of the original price.  Here are my Too Good to Go hauls in May 2023 (29 surprise bags) from the Greater Toronto Area.  Continue reading Untitled

[yimra]

Rate the gift bag my Italian boss gave me for Christmas(keeping in mind we're in Canada)

I haven’t had any of these products but that’s a fucking nice boss

[dissociationdude]

MEET THE ARTIST - 24TH EDITION

Hi everyone, my name is Milos, and I felt it was time for a new introduction. 

I’m a 24 year old neurodivergent nonbinary queer multimedia expressionist artist. 

Wow, a lot of labels I know! I just feel these are the most important ones for me.

I’m based in Ontario, Canada.

My work is a very personal part of me. I use art for therapeutic reasons most of the time, and the expressionism is a very important aspect of that. Most of the time I do not think of the final product of what I am making, just focus on what I’m feeling while I create and evoking those emotions with my art. I have a lot of work based on traumatic events, but the reason for these creations was never to evoke the feelings of being alone, unwanted, etcetera; they were created to make the viewers who deal with the same emotions to feel less alone in those things. It is for those who have survived trauma to know it’s hard to have that trauma and carry it, and there is safe spaces to put it down. My art is aiming to be a safe place to survivors who are struggling, to provide a place to weep, to provide a place to be seen. Many of my works are graphic, talking about the trauma I went through in ways others find grotesque. And to that I say: Why should I have to carry something so grotesque, alone? Why can’t I put it down somewhere, and put the appropriate context warnings? My work is not to promote the grotesque in a way that is profiting, but to show that this is what some people endure in life. I want to be allowed to show my darkest vulnerabilities with my art, because I shouldn’t have to feel shame for what others have done to me, and nobody else should hold onto shame caused by others harming them, in my eyes. My work is a conversation starter about how trauma manifests in people. I want it to be that way. Other times, my work is very bright, happy, storytelling. It depends on what I’m going for in the respect of the piece being about the trauma events, or the trauma recovery. I basically just make a lot of work based on different trauma. I tend to pull inspiration from musicians I like as well. Many people knew me for my Crywank album series, I did art for almost every song of every album they have made. 

I always want to evoke emotion with colour and narrative, and I do that with various tools. Digitally I work on an iPad Pro 4th gen 12.9 inch and an Apple Pencil that I bought used off a friend. I also have a Wacom bamboo tablet for my computer and when I use adobe products for university. I have a variety of magazines, books, paper, that I use for collage works. I often paint with acrylic paint on canvas for paintings, but sometimes wood boards as well. When I work in sketchbooks they’re usually max size 5x7inches for travel purposes, but my pencil case is huge and loaded with supplies. I always have a bag of words handy for collage poetry.

I am really not into talking about myself in regards to my personality, but I feel like I’m a very anxious but always trying their best kind of guy. I don't have other socials I'm sharing on because I have grown to hate social media. I don’t really do much for work aside from lawn care because my disabilities, but I am in university full time pursuing to be an art therapist, and I’m doing my best to adapt to living in a safe, non traumatizing environment. 

Thanks for enjoying my art in the process of me learning to love myself fully, and accept my trauma. 

Love to everyone,

Milos / Dissociationdude 

[maximumwobblerbanditdonut]

THINK HE IS NOT TELLING THE WHOLE TALE.

The whisky, released in 2020 by Sam Heughan, has taken on a different narrative by late 2024, as Heughan himself pointed out in an article for THE ARBUTURIAN.

It’s important to clarify that although the author mistakenly referred to him as a whisky distiller, Heughan does not own a distillery and is not a whisky distiller himself. A whisky distillery is a facility where whisky is produced, and all the distillation processes for Sassenach whisky take place at Loch Lomond Distillery.

For four years, Heughan has been developing a version through interviews, articles, podcasts and other media why he chose the name Sassenach. But, In a cynical world, this information changes the equation a wee bit, for an individual using their success in another field to allow themselves to carve out a little new version of his whisky name is not easier to be sympathetic.

Sam Heughan named his whisky brand "The Sassenach" after the nickname his Outlander character gives his English wife, Claire. The Gaelic word "Sassenach" simply means “English” (man or woman) and does not translate to ‘outsider.’ Heughan has mentioned in previous interviews that the whisky is named “The Sassenach” in honour of his show's love interest. Now that the Outlander series has come to an end, Heughan needs to enhance the name "Sassenach" with another version to market his products effectively.

Why would he want to brand a Scotch whisky with a Scottish word which means “English person��? It’s a curious name for a Scotch whisky! He selected the brand "Sassenach" for economic and business reasons, aiming to attract the attention of his Outlander fans, particularly those drawn to his character, Jamie Fraser. Many female fans of Outlander began to embrace the term Sassenach, encouraged by Sam Heughan himself, even though the term is often considered derogatory towards English people. Sassenach brand includes a wide range of products sold by Sam Heughan, such as drinks, hip flasks, whisky glasses, tartan items, scarves, tote bags, and more.

Understanding that JAMMF is a ghost and Outlander filming is over. I'm not too sure at which consumer market a whisky of that name would be targeted. After the series finale. Outside the U.S 🇺🇸 and Canada 🇨🇦 (just Ontario) In the European Union 🇪🇺 his name brand Sassenach was refused and lost his legal battle, or further afield I presume?

Perhaps he doesn’t want the Sassenach brand to appear ruined this festive season, so he’s begun using his creativity to boost sales. So his whisky is named his mother now. After a barrage of adverts on his Instagram urging his fans to shop more and more, it seems he is manipulating perceptions to change the original reason behind the whisky's name. This adjustment appears to stem from his internal desire following the end of the Outlander series, as he attempts to craft a new narrative filled with magical memories. However, in reality, this approach may not be adding joy for his fans; rather, it is distracting from it.

Consider, for just a moment, how this new version he wants you to accept might be detracting from your holiday joy. This year, don’t let him ruin your festive season. Instead, wait for his public relations team, marketers, and advertisers to refine his new story. While they may try to embellish his whisky's backstory to suit his needs, this could ultimately detract from the genuine joy of the season.

Posted 24th December 2024 🎄

@emel98 Great Glen Company commissioned Sassenach Tartans for Alex to dress as a Scot in a kilt, a traditional Scottish garment. Why didn't Sam wear his Sassenach First Love tartan instead of Alex to the awards night? That night was important for his Sassenach whisky? Sam is getting so confused.

[injaws]

d'pharaoh woon-a-tai, twenty-three, he/they   ⟡   —   is that BRIAR SUTTON i just saw walking around kilmer’s cove? i heard they’re a RESIDENT who’s been here for TWENTY-ONE YEARS. it slipped my mind, since they just tend to hang out at THE BOARDWALK. at face value, they’re said to be CHARMING and PLAYFUL, but i don’t know… some people have said they can be quite IMMATURE and AIMLESS. just don’t get on their bad side, i guess! don’t tell them i told you this, but i’ve heard they DO believe in all the ghost stories around town. who knows what the future holds for them! 

BASICS:

full name: briar sutton nickname(s): bri, b  age: twenty-three  gender: non-binary pronouns: he/they  sexuality: slut date & place of birth: december 04 in toronto, canada  occupation: piercing apprentice at eternal ink & part-time student at makah community college  faceclaim: d'pharaoh woon-a-tai notable characteristics: shaggy hair down to his shoulders, baggy shirts and even baggier jeans, a plethora of piercings (his ears, their tongue, his eyebrow, their bottom lip), a helluva puppy dog face, skin that's way too clear for the amount of junk he eats, constant need for movement (drumming on desks, tapping his foot -- shoutout adhd) traits: charming, juvenile, mischievous, playful, so unserious holy shit, aimless similar to: rodrick heffley (diary of a wimpy kid), percy jackson (percy jackson & the olympians), yu nishinoya (haikyuu), kurt wagner (x-men), naruto uzumaki (naruto) aesthetics: skateboarding down the beach boardwalk, a bag full of spray paint, grinning after you've gotten a bloody nose, torn up vans, high-top converse

BULLET POINTS — TW POSTPARTUM DEPRESSION, DRUG USE, DEALING, & GENERALLY ROUGH FAMILY DYNAMICS

– born to a single mother in toronto, canada, briar never knew his father. he was the product of a frat-party-fueled one night stand months before, and their mother wanted nothing to do with the man after that. a woman who believed she could take on the world, she thought she could handle a baby, too – even at the ripe age of 20. – what she couldn't have expected was the postpartum depression that would wrack her body when briar was born. she managed to push through, but it wasn't easy. he was colicky, then he was needy, then so hyperactive she couldn't catch up with them. this was around the first time she'd realized she'd bitten off more than she could chew (and around the time briar would tell you she began to resent them, if you asked) – constantly exhausted and barely out of the throes of mental illness, briar's mother knew she couldn't do this alone anymore. finally, she took up her family's offer to help raise briar, and moved them both to kilmer at age two – and god, did it take a village to raise them. briar never did particularly well in school; not for lack of smarts, because he had plenty. but he didn't learn the way other kids did, and no one was willing to stop and figure out why. they fell behind quickly, and in order to keep him from falling through the cracks, constant tutoring sessions began to replace the sports he'd liked to do, all for what he deemed useless because he just didn't get it.  – briar became kind of a "lost cause" to schools quickly, but never to his mother. she moved him from school to school, whenever he'd get in trouble at one – he'll tell you this only made the resentment worse. – briar falls into the wrong crowd fast. feeling outcast by the authority figures at his school, he finds his own community. late nights skating, tagging, and doing some type of drug are frequent. so are the pained looks from their mother when they come home as the sun rises once again. – they move out of their mother's house at age 17 after a blowout fight. they were going nowhere fast, she worked so hard for him and he's throwing it away. his grandparents, his aunts & uncles all tried to get him to stay, but he couldn't do it. – briar couch surfs for a while before crashing with his older cousin & their boyfriend, two of his best friends. he had no clue what he was going to do, but the couple struck a deal; he stays in school and actually tries to do the work, and he can stay with them. so, he finished up high school (c's get degrees – or diplomas – friends!). now, he's got a job at the skate shop on the boardwalk and is part-time in school...doing something. 

HEADCANONS:

– part time weed dealer, too but it’s to raise money ‼️‼️ at the end of the day, briar tells himself he can't keep disappointing everyone in their life. even if they dig their hole deeper. – kind of Known throughout the town as a “mina's burnout kid”, a “lost cause”, or “misunderstood”, depending on who you ask – also known as a sweet kid, because they were still helping little old ladies cross the street and carry in their groceries even though he was probably high while doing it – he's a ridiculous flirt. owns several pieces of merchandise with "i <3 milfs" on it. really annoying. – WHACKED with a case of severe adhd that does in fact affect every area of their life. diagnosed like as of four years ago. don't talk to them. they're medicated. (muns interpretation of this is based off of my own but pls let me know if anything i'm saying sounds wrong or fucked up etc etc)  – loves spray-painting & tagging. adrenaline junkie. his tag is "makwa", which means bear (specifically the black bear) in the ojibwe language. it was the nickname his mother and relatives called them growing up. tags rich houses and big company buildings often -- "eat the rich" in a person – always doing something with their limbs; tapping their fingers, bouncing their leg, fiddling with their hair. like the energizer bunny on crack – practices "california sobriety". is high often, says it calms him (someone take that shit away from him thanks) – doesn't really like alcohol, though, because he "doesn't like how it makes him feel" – will drink ten virgin pina coladas in one sitting, though – doesn't drive, prefers to just skate everywhere or take the bus. economic king – will never cut his hair beyond a trim. either wears it down or up in some kind of ponytail/bun combo. braids are rare; he enjoys wearing them, but doesn't love the work of doing them – very close with his grandparents (especially his grandmother) still. calls her at least three or four times a week. many of his fondest memories are connected to her. – talks to his mom maybe once a month. neither of them want to unpack what happened. – almost always able to talk his way out of anything. boyishly charming to an annoying degree. – enjoys an occasional crop top.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

– guh. check back l8r