#Supermarkets Awnings

[sunboki]

WHEN SKZ REALIZE THEY WANT TO MARRY YOU

including; ot8

notes; in conclusion, this is a collection of things i’ve daydreamed abt in class.. enjoy

*lowercase intended

BANGCHAN’s favrorite thing is when you cuddle him. that’s it. just kidding. perhaps it’s the way you look at him, eyes filled with so much love. he usually has to look away in order to maintain his sanity, which doesn’t last long anyway. “you’re so pretty Chan.” your voice, soft and saccharine sweet as you admire—gently holding his cheeks in your hands. he giggles like a lovestruck kid, the tips of his ears flushing a pretty pink. then his mind wanders. wanders to what he would give to experience this with you every day, wake up next to you every day, listen to your voice every day. he wouldn’t be surprised if one of these days he explodes from all the torture his heart puts up with because of your antics. it floors him. no less Hannah teases him about how whipped he is on FaceTime and continuously tells you that she would treat you better. jokingly, of course. or..?

MINHO bids you goodbye, already missing your presence even though you’re simply getting snacks from the supermarket down the street. he’d never admit it, as always. that is until the gentle lull of rain greets him from outside. then it hits him. it’s raining? you don’t have an umbrella with you, do you? cue a worried Minho racing through the downpour in search of you, the last thing he wanted is for you to catch a cold. it’s straight out a kdrama when you step from the entryway with your bags in each hand, gazing at your exhausted boyfriend drenched in rain. without a care you skip towards him, ignoring his obvious distress whilst he shouts a warning to wait for him under the awning. “Baby.. i was gonna bring the umbrella to you. you better not catch a cold.” he scolds, quickly opening the umbrella currently sheltering you two. “you’re so cute Min.” you kiss his nose thoughtfully. he’s blushing red.

CHANGBIN lives for your happiness. he’s accepted his role in life wholeheartedly or whole-chestedly without complaint. the story goes all the way back with Changbin, back when you’d just began dating and he was nervous wreck. before he’d shove his socks in your face just to get playfully slapped, giggling regardless. at the time you sat in their recording studio, listening to a few in-progress tracks 3racha was testing out. but it was when he was recording live, composing in front of you. he was beyond anxious that you wouldn’t like his rapping; until he made eye contact with you. that look. he can’t describe it. was it admiration, awe? whatever it was, he loved it. no, he’d die for you to look at him like that—look at anything like that for the record. such pure and raw happiness he treasured so deeply. that’s when Seo Changbin’s mind flipped a switch to a ‘i need to be with you forever’ mode.

HYUNJIN took you ice skating. not the sweet and romantic ice skating where it looks like you’re both floating on ice, hand in hand. but the ice skating where you’re basically clawing down him like a disoriented cat. granted, Hyunjin isn’t the best skater either, but you make him look like a pro. “tell me why i ever agreed to this.” you grumble, cursing your balance. “hold onto me, love.” your boyfriend instructs, mitten clad hands holding your own with a reassuring squeeze you can’t help but feebly return. slowly but surely he maneuvers you along the ice, guiding your movements oh so carefully. having Hyunjin beside you makes ice skating not as miserable. “i’m gonna be so bruised later.” you mumbled from the bench, watching him untie your skates calmly. and when he looks up to respond? bang. his heart shattered. your face is hidden in his red scarf, cheeks and nose a rosy pink and toboggan adding to the sweetness. he’s gone. oh to tattoo this adorable moment into his eyelids. easily clarification he wants your hand in marriage.

HAN sits on the windowsill. the soft thrum of raindrops hum against the pane, creating a peaceful ambience. he hears you move from your place snuggled in bed, searching for his absent presence. but for the busy Quokka, this is his napping time. he’d arrived home at an ungodly hour last night from the studio, gaze heavy from sleep deprivation as he stumbled into your sheets—still exhausted into the morning. as if for a moment his mind drifted elsewhere, subtly relaxing till his eyes snap back open from a minty smell wafting beside him. there you stood; his big t-shirt that hung off your shoulder lopsidedly, holding two mugs of warm mint tea. taking the cup happily, you watched him stare at you, apparently waiting for something. “c’mere, i’ll always sing lullabies for you.” you laugh at his pout, ushering him to lay down. that saturday he plopped his head onto your lap, listening to you hum him a quiet lullaby like a child. he’d never make it without this, without you. he preferred it that way.

FELIX had been chasing you down the street for 20 minutes, well, because of his own doing. why you were running? because you’d both made a bet that whoever got to the playground down the street from the convenience store faster got $20, and Felix was not one to back down. running as fast as his legs could take him, he just barely stepped foot into the sand when you screamed “i won!” which led to a very begrudging $20 being slapped in your hand. “not fair.” your boyfriend huffed, flopping onto one of the swings nearby to watch you dance around. “or maybe..” you got closer, leaning in with a menacing smile, “—not fast enough.” being sure to wave the crisp bill right in front of his face. “yah.. stop rubbing it in.” he dramatically deflated, hunching over. “ahh i’m just kidding.” you giggled, sitting beside him now as you reached your hand out for him to take the money. “buy us something with it, something fun.” and of course the ginormous rubber duck in the mall had came home with him the next day. something he called the “most fun in his life.” with freckles basically twinkling.. how could you resist.

SEUNGMIN peered over your shoulder, watching the numerous words be typed up on the screen. being the nice guy he was, Seungmin decided to help work on your paper with you. “this?” you pointed to the screen, then glanced back in his direction—not expecting your boyfriend to be wearing his glasses and all. you had to admit, it was beyond charming. he nodded quickly in reply, appearing more focused than you. however, the way your shoulders trembled with laughter didn’t go unnoticed, Seungmin cocking a playful brow. “what?” he teasingly hovered in front of your screen, dissolving you into louder a fit of laughter. “you’re just so handsome with glasses, Mr. Seungmin.” the title earned a snort from him, shaking his head. “or should i say, my husband.” the room got quiet. “..are we engaged?” another burst of giggles from you, he was so serious and it was breaking you. “no, but one day.” you promised softly, watching a big smile tug at his lips. so pretty now that he didn’t conceal that beautiful smile. “one day.”

JEONGIN didn’t waste time when he heard the smash of glass against your tile flooring echo along the halls. “i’m okay!” you call out quickly, but Jeongin was already there. and despite your assurance, you still had multiple cuts scattered along your now bloodied hands. “Don’t move.” your boyfriend gently instructed, carefully maneuvering around the glass to scoop you off your feet with ease—funny that the ‘baby’ of the group was so much stronger than expected, sitting you on the bathroom counter to patch up. “you shouldn’t just tell me you’re okay, you could’ve gotten really hurt.“ his knitted brows and jutting lip told you he was worried, and it utterly melted your heart. “let me take care of you sometimes. i love to take care of you.” he lied. he wanted to take care of you all the time, not just sometimes. to be the one putting bandaids on for you and sitting by your bedside when you were sick to kiss your forehead. god, did he mention you’d look stunning in wedding attire?

taglist — @starlostseungmin

all rights reserved for @sunboki

[verawhisk]

wait wait wait hold awn because astarion would love having an asian partner… if you go to any chinese supermarket or any vietnamese corner store you can almost certainly find tubs of pig blood just. there. in stock. ready for purchase. and there’s a LOT of it. they’d be buying him buckets literally every week and he’d be in there with a straw like SCHLUURRRPP!! he’d be so excited too he’d be like darling did you get groceries for this week ^u^ and they’d be like yup :) and just take out their regular ass ingredients and then astarion’s ten tupperware containers of pork blood sloshing around inside and he’d be so happy

[21stcenturyschizoidcat]

I have weird feelings about my hometown

Like, it's weird saying I'm from a smaller town, a permanent population of around 10,000 people, and a summer population of about 110,000 people. So many people who live there don't live there. Instead it's like, they have secondary homes there and live on the mainland.

And like, despite being overwhelmingly white and solidly at least middle class when I was young, it somehow become gentrified? Like, it's damn near impossible for any kind of housing there that's under a million dollars.

There used to be a kinda medium sided food market across the street. Not quite a Bodega, but not a supermarket. After heavy snow took down their awning, they closed for good, and now 5 matching duplexes were built on the land, each occupied at most three months out of the year.

And just like, it's all so soulless. The island isn't conducive to life and living. Despite being just 8 miles long, it feels unwalkable and extremely car dependant.

And these motherfuckers are protesting windmills being built off the coast. Despite their yearly Beach replenishments.

Ocean City NJ is a neoconservative hellscape

[nenchuu]

Grocery Store ⏤ (OC Only) Takashi Tachibana & Hiro Otsuka.

I wrote this one last year to better understand the relationship between my two characters and navigate Hiro's "voice." I figured I might as well share it with y'all!

“Cool, right?” Hiro gestures out to a large supermarket awning built into the corner of a gray building. “This place has foreign stuff!”

“Yeah, that’s cool.” Takashi stands with Hiro, significantly less impressed, but not disinterested. “Do you need groceries?”

“Just a few things, I promise. I won’t take up too much of your precious time.” Hiro replies with a hint of ribbing in his voice.

Takashi isn’t really even sure why he’s here. Hiro randomly decided to text him earlier that day to ask if he wanted to check out this grocery store near him and on a whim, Takashi agreed. He didn’t have much else to do that day, anyway.

“Anything specific you’re looking for?”

“Ehhhh… Not really. I just figured I’d look around and get ideas, y’know? Freestyle it.”

“Got it… ‘Freestyle.’”

They step on the rubber mat, the glass doors sliding open to accept them in. Hiro takes a hand basket and is immediately greeted by a display of produce. Takashi watches as Hiro swiftly takes three containers of already cored pineapple. He must really like pineapple, he thinks.

“I wonder if they have South-American food…” Hiro wonders out loud.

“Do you like foreign food, Hiro-kun?”

“Oh, yeah, I guess so… I grew up somewhere with a lot of foreigners, so I got used to seeing different kinds of food.” Hiro’s face drops the usual smarminess as he thinks about his upbringing.

Takashi bites his lip, knowing they grew up in the same town, but Hiro doesn’t know that.

Hiro approaches an older woman in uniform, clearly an employee. “Excuse me, ma’am, do you sell any South-American foods here?” They exchange a few words before he thanks her for her time and walks back toward Takashi. Takashi raises an eyebrow at Hiro with a stunned expression. “What? I’m a gentleman.”

“Sure…” Takashi shakes his head, slightly taken aback by Hiro’s out-of-character manner of speaking. “You should talk like that with women your own age.”

“What? No way, girls don’t like that. Makes them feel ugly.”

“And you know this how exactly?”

“Oh, my poor, sweet, naïve Takashi-kun. You just don’t get women like I do.” Hiro pats Takashi’s shoulder in misdirected pity. “Also, they only have European crap here. Aw well.”

“Sorry, I guess?” Takashi replies specifically about the lack of South-American food, trying to ignore the first part.

Hiro, however, interpreted this as about Takashi’s lack of experience with women. “It’s cool, you don’t know any better.”

They pass an aisle of different European brands of alcohol, but none of them seem to interest Hiro, even the ones that are discounted. “I would think you’d get some of the alcohol here.”

“Nah, trust me, I drink plenty at work. I don’t need any more of it.” They move on to look over the packaged meats glowing under the LED lights. “Nice, they have pork on sale! And it’s the organic stuff too!”

“I didn’t know you liked that kind of stuff.”

“I mean… It’s supposed to be better, right? I dunno. It’s cheaper, that’s all I care about.” He takes the marbled meat and drops it in his basket, his fingers creasing the shrink-wrap.

As they move through the aisles, Hiro suddenly stops in his tracks to gasp and cover his mouth, feigning shock. “Oh no, Takashi-kun…!”

Takashi follows his gaze to a cooler with bags of oranges inside and next to it, a machine with the words “100% Fresh Juice” in English letters printed above. The sign shows a cartoon anthropomorphic orange touting a full cup of fresh juice.

“They’re juicing you!” Hiro turns his head back and forth between the juicer and Takashi, his mouth agape. Hiro’s clearly trying to amuse Takashi, exaggerating his movements.

Takashi can’t help but snicker under his breath, trying and failing to stifle a laugh. Hiro looks back at him with a big, satisfactory grin. “See, you like me!” “No, I hate you, actually,” Takashi quips back, his smile betraying him.

“You think I’m charming~” Hiro teases in a sing-song voice with a toothy grin. It’s reminiscent of a proud child. Takashi narrows his eyes, biting the inside of his cheek.

Takashi does like Hiro… Sometimes. When he isn’t being completely inappropriate or egotistical. Which is most of the time.

There are times, however, when he’s a quarter less obnoxious. Takashi likes when he’s just being goofy, like right now. Or those rare moments of sincerity that accidentally slip out.

Takashi rolls his eyes half-heartedly. “That was such a dumb joke, dude.”

“You don’t have to be so tsundere, y’know. Just be honest and say you want me.” Hiro punctuates his sentence with a smug hair flip. “I mean, I don’t blame you. Look at me.”

Yep… That’s Hiro.

Takashi walks up ahead, leaving Hiro to be caught up in his own little world until his proverbial bubble pops and he awkwardly scrambles to catch up with Takashi. “Come on baby, don’t be like that!” Hiro whines a little too loudly behind Takashi, making the man ahead of him furrow his brow with a grimace. “Would you forgive me if I bought you a snack or somethin’? A peace offering snack?”

Takashi looks over his shoulder, Hiro finally catching up. “That depends. How much are you willing to spend for my forgiveness?”

“Uh, I mean, not anything too expensive–” Takashi starts walking away again, causing Hiro to stumble. “Okay, okay! Whatever you want, man!”

Takashi smiles triumphantly. “Sounds good to me.” Hiro finally catches up with Takashi, walking beside him at a steady speed. “You’re kinda sexy when you’re being bossy.”

Takashi immediately frowns. “Can you stop talking, please?”

“I’m just sayin’ you should be more confident! It’s a good thing!”

“That is NOT what you were saying.”

“Okay, you got me there.” Hiro just shrugs with a half-smile, picking up some pre-made meals along the way. Takashi can only sigh in response.

“Do you need anything else?” Takashi asks a little impatiently.

“Hmmmm…” Hiro rubs his chin with a bit of flourish. “I guess just whatever you want. And a drink. I’m thirsty.”

Takashi ignores the way Hiro wiggles his thick eyebrows as he says this, looking through the aisles to pick something out. A bag of foreign chips catches his eye, not really knowing what exactly he’s getting, but the flavor looks interesting. “Is this okay?”

“Whatever you want, man, you have my word.” Takashi gently places the bag in Hiro’s basket while Hiro grabs a bottle of green tea.

They walk up to the cash registers together, checking out and getting the items bagged. Hiro thanks the clerk for their help before getting ready to leave, walking out into the sunny Tokyo streets.

Once they’re outside, Hiro rustles through the plastic bag to give Takashi his promised snack. “Thank you,” Takashi replies, the plastic crinkling in his hand.

“Hey, uh… Takashi-kun?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for, y’know, coming with me…” Hiro scratches the back of his neck sheepishly. “It’s kinda nice doin’ chores and stuff with somebody else… I guess.”

There it was. One of those rare genuine moments. Takashi looks at his bashful face, reminding him of when they were both teenagers.

Yep. That’s Hiro.

[thatseventiesbitch]

would you do a jackie/hyde one? 🥺 how about 18

Thanks for the ask! Prompt Ask Game

18. "Dance with me in the rain"

The sky had been overcast all morning, but the forecast called for it to hold off until after Mr. Forman's annual BBQ. But in the time it had taken Jackie and Hyde to drive to the Piggly Wiggly and hunt down some more hotdog buns, the sky had opened up. Torrents of rain came down, soaking the parking lot as they emerged from the store.

"Ugh. Steven - " Jackie jumped back under the safety of the store's awning, lest she damage her cute new shoes in a puddle.

"Shit." He stepped out into the downpour, sticking his palm up towards the sky to gauge the velocity. What he found sent him back to Jackie. "We'll have to wait it out, man."

They stood with their backs against the brick wall of the supermarket. Jackie handed him the plastic bag with their purchase inside, and he slung his other arm around her back.

"These shoes are velour, Steven," she grumbled. She was unhappily eyeing the river of water that was winding its way downhill towards them.

"So take 'em off."

She scoffed. "And go barefoot in a parking lot? I don't think so." Honestly - did he forget who he was talking to?

Hyde shrugged. "I'll carry you."

"You expect me to - what?" She stopped mid-complaint, genuinely stunned.

He shrugged again, and nodded towards the sky. "I don't think this is letting up any time soon, Jackie."

"Okay," she whispered, still in shock.

Jackie bent down to remove her shoes, and cradled them protectively against her chest as Hyde scooped her up.

"Ready?" he whispered in her ear. "I'm gonna go as fast as I can."

She nodded, and he took off into the storm. After just a few steps, they were both drenched. Hyde glanced at her nervously, but he didn't need to be worried. She was laughing - loud and free - and he started to do the same.

They reached the El Camino in a few more of Hyde's long strides, but when he set her down Jackie didn't reach for the car door. She reached for his hand, and started to tug him back towards the middle of the parking lot.

"Jackie - " he shouted to be heard over the downpour. "What are you -"

"Dance with me in the rain. Steven!" she shouted, a blissful, elated gleam in her brown eyes.

He chuckled at the sight. Jackie Burkhart, dancing barefoot in a parking lot. Water was streaming down her face, matting her hair and causing her make-up to run. She'd never looked more beautiful to him.

"What about your shoes?"

"Forget about the shoes." She tossed them to the pavement, throwing her arms wide behind her as she started to spin. "And get over here!"

If it were anyone else, he'd have scowled and gotten into the car. But she was willing to throw caution to the wind for him - so he did the same for her. Hyde grabbed her hips and joined her carefree twirl, and she scream-laughed.

Yeah. The Formans would need to wait awhile for their hotdog buns.

[joonggphilia]

🩷🤍Best Boyfriend🤍🩵

———————————————————————

pairing: Keeho x Theo (idol au) Genre: Fluff Cw: None A/n: I think Keeho and Theo are soooo cute. I’m really excited about this fic and I hope the anon who requested this enjoys it to <3

———————————————————————

“You suck at rock paper scissor. You got us stuck with grocery shopping.” Keeho complained, walking side by side with Theo. “You’re the one who refused to participate, you could’ve played instead of me.” Theo retorted, smacking the taller males arm. The both made eye contact, hatred pooling in their eyes. Laughter suddenly filled the air. “You’re my best friends how could I stay mad at you. Even though you suck ass at easy games.” Keeho said, swinging his arm over Theo’s shoulder. They both took a deep breath and looked out into the darkness. They enjoyed each other’s presence, whether they were laughing, talking, or sitting in silence. Keeho and Theo just click, like they were made for each other. Soulmates. “Take a left. The supermarket is right here.” Said Theo, directing his friend around. The two grabbed baskets and began to shop, grabbing yummy snacks and healthy meals.

———————————————————————

“Fuck, it’s pouring.” Keeho pouted, standing under the awning that was infront of the market. “I just got my hair done.” Added the shorter male, as he fixed his bangs. “Let’s run for it.” Keeho burst out, putting his hood up. “What harm could a little water do?” And so they did. He grabbed Theo’s hand and pulled him out into the downpour. The cold of the rain and the warmth of their bodies created a comfy feel. A feeling that felt like home. The excitement wore off and became more of a comforting sensation. The two still held hands as the walked back to the dorm. Theo loves being close to Keeho, he felt as if he was safe. “We should do stuff together more often. Like, just you and me.” Theo hummed, closing his eyes as rain fell on his face. “Really? I didn’t know you liked me.” Keeho responded sarcastically. “I do. I really do.” Theo whispered, stopping to look at the taller male. He leaned in, feeling the tension break. Their lips fit together perfectly. The freezing burn from the weather was completely gone, replaced by the warmth of love and friendship. “I like you a lot too.” Keeho said, dropping his usual sassy act.

———————————————————————

Theo quietly opened the door to their dorm, as keeho ran in grabbing a towel to dry his hair. Theo sat down at his desk, opening his phone and starting a live. People began flooding the comment section with questions. “Why are you soaked?” Or “are you ok!? Dry off, you’ll catch a cold!”. He chuckled at the questions and sudden panic. “I’m ok p1ece! Just got caught in the rain while running an errand. Thanks for the concern.” He said, eyes scanning over the comments once again. Suddenly the comments blew up, causing him to whip around. Keeho walked In, no shirt. “IM LIVE!” Theo blurted, getting flustered at the sight of his best friend half naked. “Sorryyy” He stammered, sliding a hoodie on, that happened to be Theo’s. “Couple sweatshirts!?!?” Read one of the comments. “Well…” Keeho started, teasing his band mate. “Shut up. You guys Keeho and I are best friends!” This statement made Keeho roll his eyes. The two continued their live, making comments about each other every now and then.

———————————————————————

Theo ended the live and took a deep breath. “Keeho I wanna be more than your best friend.” They sat in silence for a minute. Staring at each other, relaxing to the sound of rain. “Then be my best boyfriend.”

[deltaruminations]

7 and 10 for Alphys?

thank you!!!

7 ended up being like. a short improvisational fic. i didn't intend for that to happen but. it did lol. so i'm putting it under a cut because lemgth

7 - food/cooking

she had a friend for a while, not too memorable as a person, apparently, since even his name evades her now, but she remembers he liked to take her places, interrupting her weekend staycations to drag her off to the light rail station and into the City, the terribly big City with its too-cool bourgeois bars and loud, crowded basement shows and crosswalks crawling with humans and monsters who wore and walked a swagger that made her feel infinitesimal in her already diminutive frame. her friend (what’d he look like, again? tall?), tall and cosmopolitan amidst the chaos, seemed oddly at ease there, radiating a patient peace from his palm into hers as he coaxed her along, pointing out curiosities as they walked — historical-place plaques, architectural oddities, trees in funny shapes.

she had to admit it was fun once she’d shivered off the overwhelm, and she quickly found her favorite spots: the central library, the biggest she’d seen since her grad school days, where they’d pick through heavy textbooks and study antique maps with subdued glee; Third Thursdays after-hours at the science museum, where they’d grab grown-up drinks and indulge their inner kids with planetarium shows and ancient bones, riding the earthquake simulator as many times as they could stand; the two-story Japanese bookstore, where she’d pull him around manga shelves and chatter about Mew Mew and Hacksaw Guy and Horodehoro, where he’d read her snippets of poetry from the untranslated books and share in her awe at the Perfect Grade Fundams her schoolteacher salary could never justify buying; and, of course, the Ramen Shop, tucked under a faded awning in an alley a few blocks away, that dished out fragrant bowls of springy noodles entirely unlike the drab instant cups of her day-to-day. the best trips always included a dip into sticky tonkotsu or bright yuzu shio and cups of sake, cloudy-sweet or dark and mushroom-dank, as she relayed the funnier stories of failed experiments from her university lab, her friend (the smile. right. the smile.) flashing crooked grins between sips.

it's been years since her friend seemingly vanished, taking with him the City trips and, most tragically, the Ramen Shop. she finally decides to try it on her own, stepping out shakily onto the International District platform, only to find herself rocked again by the bustle of it all, lacking reinforcement and convinced she’ll crumble. she huddles on a bench until her brain stops buzzing and some semblance of strength returns to her knees, and then she books it onto the next train to Hometown, looking up instant ramen hacks on her phone to pass the time, to imagine something filling the aching emptiness suddenly groaning below her chest.

she browses blankly through college recipe blogs and listicles before something catches her eye: How to Make Perfect Tonkotsu at Home, from a website claiming brazenly the seriousness of its eats, and indeed the article is obsessive – scientific, even – in its approach. the author tests and documents, comparing cuts of bone for optimal yields of collagen, gelatin, and fats, boiling spaghetti in alkaline solutions to replicate the texture of authentic noodles, charting the moisture loss of pork belly under various cooking methods, even cooking bagged slices in a precise bain-marie and finishing them perfectly Maillard with a blowtorch. a freaking blowtorch!

so enthralled is she by methodology that she hardly thinks twice before exiting at an early stop, Awaytown, home to Hometown's nearest full-sized supermarket, through which she winds with laser focus and fills a basket with things she’s never before thought to buy. who knew they sold bags of pork trotters in the same aisle as the frozen dumplings?

it isn’t until she’s in her little apartment kitchen, looking over the ingredients occupying every inch of counter space, that she remembers she’s never cooked anything in her life more advanced than jarred sauce over pasta, and again comes the quake.

she steels herself this time, hugging her arms around her chest, trying her best to think calmly through the steps before her. first, blanch and clean the bones…

the bones. she squeezes her sides, reminded of her ribs, her spine, her structure rattling inside while still retaining her shape.

“Impressive seismic engineering,” he said, gently shaking her shoulder as they wobbled off the simulation. “Strong material, to start. Counteractive damping. Fluid sockets for shock absorption and shearing. We are not all so durable or flexible, you know.”

She laughed. “I’m surprised they even let you on that thing.”

“I suppose they leave such concerns to the waiver,” he replied through an impish smile, removing his hand from her shoulder before reattaching it, nonchalantly, to his other arm.

…he did what? that can’t be right. brains find strange ways to fill in gaps.

what was she doing, again? she glances at the article open on her phone. a new experiment. that’s right. she rolls up her sleeves with trembling hands and sets herself to work.

10 - sleep

she’s been a bad sleeper since she was a kid, thrashing and mumbling frantically, kicking her parents while sleeping between them, scaring the shit out of superstitious kids at summer camp, getting chewed out by dorm-mates for making so much noise the night before finals.

she hardly has nightmares, far as she can tell upon waking. it doesn't work like the familiar anxiety of the light, the stumbling, jumbled-up thoughts, the catastrophic ideation and trembling prey-animal flush.

the fear in the dark is a more primal possessor, fearful and dumb and unable to express itself except through whimpers and the clumsy puppeting of limbs. it has no words to describe itself, no images it can present to her. it hides deep in her gut, her muscles, her throat, biding time for dreams to distract her mind before it tries to claw its way out.*

the first morning she wakes up with undyne is the first morning in years that she wakes up rested, the bedsheets untangled, her palms dry of clammy sweats, the demon in her seemingly eased by the gentle squeeze of powerful arms, the warm lips against her shoulder, the deep, rhythmic push of the breathing body against her back. as she nestles into calming compression, she feels the tickle of an idea.

i bet she'd love the Ramen Shop.

*this is about somaticized complex stress to be clear LMAO she's not actually possessed by chara undertale or whatever. ok

[selvaobscura]

I see Liza shot by Warhol down at belem on a day the air smells like heat.

An afternoon spent in the white box makes me ravenous. The line for a portugese tart is too long, tourists in visors wrapping round the block. I walk away and they blur into dots, ants scurrying about under the faded green awning.

I get one for €0.40 at the supermarket and eat it amongst the masses waiting for the train. It takes three stops to tunnel us back into the city built on 7 hills.

I wake up at 3am in my middle bunk, you’ve texted me about the time we went to see cabaret. Synchronicity.

Cabaret is my favourite movie, blue is my favourite colour. I have a list of a million trinkets in my journal which have made me think of you

[tseneipgam]

“With a cheap little camera I took photos I later felt ashamed of. When I looked at them, it felt almost in- decent to keep in my room these fragments of other people's existence, images of a fleeting gesture, a wan- dering gaze, skulking figures, snippets of the lives of strangers who knew nothing of the persistence in my possession, for the time being, of a fragment of their life. Two black women in brightly coloured trainers and striped jackets turned up in several pictures. They are seen choosing some fish that look golden under the red glow of the awning, but will be yellow and dull at home in their kitchen. They linger over a display of white lace presided over by a yawning saleswoman in a brown an- orak. In one picture a hand reaches indecisively towards a pale-looking banana plant, its fingers wrinkled with cold craning like timid necks; the blurred stripy pattern of the sleeve shows the hand belongs to one of the two women.”

“Nowhere between Springfield Park and the mouth of the river Lea was the sky as vast as it was here. wisewhere, if the sky seemed a uniform whitish-grey, you knew that here there would be distinct clouds, if the wind elsewhere were gentle, here it would be boisterous. And here, too, the clouds constantly changed their shape and stratification; they were sea clouds, drifting in from or towards the Thames Estuary, and it was here, above this strip of land, that they would turn about. Between the willow copse and the railway embankment a cor- ridor had opened, a strip of land that did not succumb to use, an undesignated, vulnerable patch in the city through which something had entered that undermined the ruthlessness of all regimes. Under a bigger sky than anybody with an orderly life could possibly need, this place lay under the aegis of the willow copse, which, in an unusually clear light under gaily coloured autumn clouds scurrying east, I suddenly recognized as the epit- ome of the boundaries common to every childhood: a sparse grove inconspicuously dividing two worlds one must inevitably choose between.”

“Among the ashes, which still stank of burnt plastic, was a charred doll. Its hair had melted to a clump of blackness and its arms and legs were eb- onized stumps, but the sleepy blue eyes were unharmed and stared from its soot-covered face into the sky. It was a very ordinary doll, pulled off the shelf of some budget supermarket by a tired mother or grandmother on her way home from work on the eve of a child's birthday. She was just one doll among the many variously posi- tioned dolls on a shelf, but this little woman in her sequin gown and long eyelashes, who had sneaked a wink at the mother or grandmother and taken her straight back to childhood, obviously had to be the one. Nobody could have foreseen her ending this way, neither the cashier at the budget supermarket nor the mother or grandmother nor the birthday girl with her brothers and girlfriends. And yet, who does not recall those tiny and entirely reckless sacrificial altars of childhood, after which noth- ing will ever be the same again?”

“reminded of paths through similar spaces of pointlessly disturbed wilderness that were gradually succumbing to weeds and neglect, alien to beauty of any kind. There had been such prematurely tarmacked paths to nowhere in my childhood too: pending the erection of housing between the river and the village, along the railway embankments, through dank subways, and in the trem- bling shadows cast by pointy trees, fringed by rampant undergrowth, places for the furtive activities of strang- ers, which one wanted to forget straight away. There were weed-infested work-tracks around gravel pits in sight of the crater's edge, between the lean remains of sand and gravel piles. Such paths were harbingers of landscape upheavals, which sometimes were no more than rumours, forerunners of the dream of the Great Straightening of the World.”

“Whenever the word 'river' came to mind, I imagined panoramas, views, images from childhood - the post- cards memory had sent me. I ran these views and images by countless rivers, holding them up to each river land- scape as if to interrogate it for something specific. For distinct shades of blue both in the sky and in the sky's reflection on both sides of the river? For its capacity to make magic with mist, its seaward promise and pledge of a greater brightness? The comparative allure of its unknown opposite bank? I could not have said myself what it was.”

“The wind was a lesson every newcomer to the city had to learn. There were storms that would suddenly well up at night, filling the air with a cacophony of rattling. ending, clashing and clanking as all manner of objects began to detach themselves, lurching to and fro in the gusis, then tearing from their moorings completely. trundling down the streets, until eventually the paths of the wind crossed and its booty snagged and snarled. and all the plastic bottles, letterbox lids, exercise books, satellite dishes, window handles, cigarette lighters, items of washing and clothes pegs, photographs and careless- Iv hidden burglar's tools came to a halt and collapsed in a heap at a bend in the road or on the pavement. Then there were the long storms, which announced their ap- proach with a high-pitched howl caused by the friction of differently fast and differently coloured layers of cloud, storms which would tail off as night fell only to start afresh at the first sign of dawn, as if they were de- termined their effect on the world should be witnessed. Among the most extraordinary phenomena were the tornados, which could touch down briefly and turn whole areas of town topsy-turvy, assailing rows of hous- es and leaving their upturned roofs thrashing about in clouds of dust, while the storm itself lifted and made a clean getaway.”

“One windy day I was out looking for some useful ar- tile that might give me a sense of order and settledness and encourage me to lead my life in a more organized fashion, an object that might lure me away from living In hope of some beneficial, fortuitous event, to embrace instead the equanimity inhabited by those whose lives are shielded by habit and convention.” 

“with these snapshots of lives so remote from my own that I had been granted unsolicited access to them solely through some petty burglary or disappointing inheritance or ill-starred coincidence? I could not even think of names to give the two women who turned up in all of the photographs. I asked myself the unanswerable question of what name some other person might give me if they happened upon my photo. The notion that such a stranger, beholding my face, might find no name for me at all filled me with such anxiety that I quickly went through a few names for these randomly encoun- tered women: Liza and Harriet, I thought, Kathleen and Joyce. From Dalston? Homerton? Hackney Wick? But as I tried out the names, not a twinkle did I see in their red-tinged, blurry eyes.”

“The smoke produced by burning photographs is acrid and pungent. It has a te nacious smell and is difficult to air or wash out. It can provoke a cough that will last for weeks. It is said that when faces on colour photographs slowly crumble to form a stringy, viscid ash, they can impress themselves indelibly on the beholder's mind, taking on new names and a life of their own.”

“after years of larval sleep these insects all hatch at the same time, spreading scaly-looking wings whose surfaces are iridescent with countless, tiny splashes of colour, and for a few minutes, at most for a couple of hours, they un- furl a radiant magnificence we call their life".

“travellers whose sole destination in life, Once they had got the day out of the way, was the night. There they sat, dozing, reading, or looking out of the window, in full knowledge that the bailiff was knocking on their door, their sweetheart was meeting a different sweetheart in their home, somebody entrusted to their care was vainly whining for warm milk or the daily paper, the rain was coming in through the roof and ceil- ing, carefully arranged containers had long overflowed and the patterned carpet, like a meadow in springtime, was gurgling with wetness. Some spent the entire day of travel engrossed in the same novel, or pored over last Sunday's inexhaustible newspapers. Others gazed into space, or slept, or, like me, kept wiping the window beside them to get a better view.”

“One day I noticed the trees were in blossom. In the part of town the bus was passing through, blossoms bil- lowed white and bright pink around twigs that were yet to sprout leaves, and everything in the whitish morn- ing light - trees, blossoms, houses and the softly defined vanishing points of the streets - came together to form an image whose yearning to last was so intense that the few passers-by who were out and about at that hour, even the cats and birds, stopped in their tracks for a moment or two, as if following instructions to be at their most receptive in committing something unforgettable to memory.”

“The man was a collector of bricks. He claimed to know where every brick in his warehouse came from. London stock, he said with a sweeping gesture at his store. They were all made of London earth, all fired and stamped here. He knew how to tell the various yellow coloured bricks apart, also the red, brown and mauve-black ones. He knew which ones had been used for church- es, which for hospitals and schools, which for houses and which for the boundary walls of cemeteries. There were government office bricks, factory bricks, front gar- den bricks and backyard bricks, bricks for almshouses, where two families shared three rooms, and bricks for blocks of flats with white stone dressings and mouldings and servants' entrances. He drew the tips of his fingers over the bricks in his arches and showed me the dust that had collected in his skin lines. He gave me a short lec- ture on London bricks and the reasons for their great variety. Write that down, he added. When you've got a moment....The great city of London is built on a network of countless rivers of varying age. They rise in landscapes characterized by very different kinds of rock and flow 1o the sea bringing sediment from those rocks. The mud of each underground river has a different colour and is the repository of a different history. That is why London bricks have a greater variety of colours than those of any other city in this world.”

[hostageofeurope]

Bombarded by relentless rain on November 30, 2024, I sought refuge beneath the adjacent supermarket’s awning, enduring an 18-hour ordeal in icy darkness. 🌧️ Dawn’s faint light exposed debris needing painstaking cleanup with borrowed tools, the cold piercing my only cover—a towel. By noon, hunger gnawed, echoing April’s demolished seventh shelter—a stark testament to resilience amid unyielding adversity. ⛺

[limoteecheap]

Santa Grinch I hate people but I love my Nottm Forest 2024 shirt

Santa Grinch I hate people but I love my Nottm Forest 2024 shirt

A likely decline in the Christmas TV lineup. Even when trapped in the Santa Grinch I hate people but I love my Nottm Forest 2024 shirt for days on end, most people have enough devices to avoid having to interact in this archaic way. If the economy picks up, more people will travel. And of course the end of Christmas high street/main street shopping, in-person retail just won’t survive, unless there’s a physical need to go to a store. Less and less people attend family services, a trend that has been going on for decades. Municipal councils can stem the tide of decline by bringing in parades, rides, markets, beer gardens, outdoor skating, a petting zoo, fireworks, street dj nights, park concerts etc and after Christmas, they can create central places to recycle trees, paper, boxes, and sales for unwanted toys, charity drives etc Bring those leftovers to the homeless, and failing that, the municipal composting program. The holidays are a good time for groups to suspend their normal rules, let some hair down and make a real difference to people, the excuse, it’s Christmas. One of the UK supermarkets turned their awning into a light tunnel that received tens of thousands of visitors, and got lots of good press. Staff are usually willing to make the effort, and management are keen to do something, it’s a matter of co-ordinating and making it happen. Rather than indulging in more selfish office practices, you could actually boost the community and get more people through the door instead. For private firms, open days are a brilliant idea too, you can combine it with recruitment to create an informal jobs fair, very handy at the holidays as lots of people become unemployed at this difficult time.

Santa Grinch I hate people but I love my Manchester City 2024 shirt

Santa Grinch I hate people but I love my Man City 2024 shirt

Santa Grinch I hate people but I love my Fulham 2024 shirt

Raven Colvin 7 Purdue Boilermakers Signature t shirt

[limoteesese]

Brisbane Lions AFL Premiership Champs Shirt

Brisbane Lions AFL Premiership Champs Shirt

A likely decline in the Christmas TV lineup. Even when trapped in the Brisbane Lions AFL Premiership Champs Shirt for days on end, most people have enough devices to avoid having to interact in this archaic way. If the economy picks up, more people will travel. And of course the end of Christmas high street/main street shopping, in-person retail just won’t survive, unless there’s a physical need to go to a store. Less and less people attend family services, a trend that has been going on for decades. Municipal councils can stem the tide of decline by bringing in parades, rides, markets, beer gardens, outdoor skating, a petting zoo, fireworks, street dj nights, park concerts etc and after Christmas, they can create central places to recycle trees, paper, boxes, and sales for unwanted toys, charity drives etc Bring those leftovers to the homeless, and failing that, the municipal composting program. The holidays are a good time for groups to suspend their normal rules, let some hair down and make a real difference to people, the excuse, it’s Christmas. One of the UK supermarkets turned their awning into a light tunnel that received tens of thousands of visitors, and got lots of good press. Staff are usually willing to make the effort, and management are keen to do something, it’s a matter of co-ordinating and making it happen. Rather than indulging in more selfish office practices, you could actually boost the community and get more people through the door instead. For private firms, open days are a brilliant idea too, you can combine it with recruitment to create an informal jobs fair, very handy at the holidays as lots of people become unemployed at this difficult time.

[limoteesjr]

Brisbane Lions AFL Premiership Champs Shirt

Brisbane Lions AFL Premiership Champs Shirt

A likely decline in the Christmas TV lineup. Even when trapped in the Brisbane Lions AFL Premiership Champs Shirt for days on end, most people have enough devices to avoid having to interact in this archaic way. If the economy picks up, more people will travel. And of course the end of Christmas high street/main street shopping, in-person retail just won’t survive, unless there’s a physical need to go to a store. Less and less people attend family services, a trend that has been going on for decades. Municipal councils can stem the tide of decline by bringing in parades, rides, markets, beer gardens, outdoor skating, a petting zoo, fireworks, street dj nights, park concerts etc and after Christmas, they can create central places to recycle trees, paper, boxes, and sales for unwanted toys, charity drives etc Bring those leftovers to the homeless, and failing that, the municipal composting program. The holidays are a good time for groups to suspend their normal rules, let some hair down and make a real difference to people, the excuse, it’s Christmas. One of the UK supermarkets turned their awning into a light tunnel that received tens of thousands of visitors, and got lots of good press. Staff are usually willing to make the effort, and management are keen to do something, it’s a matter of co-ordinating and making it happen. Rather than indulging in more selfish office practices, you could actually boost the community and get more people through the door instead. For private firms, open days are a brilliant idea too, you can combine it with recruitment to create an informal jobs fair, very handy at the holidays as lots of people become unemployed at this difficult time.

[paletalegear]

Trump Supreme Court Supreme Court Supreme Court Shirt

Trump Supreme Court Supreme Court Supreme Court Shirt

A likely decline in the Christmas TV lineup. Even when trapped in the Trump Supreme Court Supreme Court Supreme Court Shirt for days on end, most people have enough devices to avoid having to interact in this archaic way. If the economy picks up, more people will travel. And of course the end of Christmas high street/main street shopping, in-person retail just won’t survive, unless there’s a physical need to go to a store. Less and less people attend family services, a trend that has been going on for decades. Municipal councils can stem the tide of decline by bringing in parades, rides, markets, beer gardens, outdoor skating, a petting zoo, fireworks, street dj nights, park concerts etc and after Christmas, they can create central places to recycle trees, paper, boxes, and sales for unwanted toys, charity drives etc Bring those leftovers to the homeless, and failing that, the municipal composting program. The holidays are a good time for groups to suspend their normal rules, let some hair down and make a real difference to people, the excuse, it’s Christmas. One of the UK supermarkets turned their awning into a light tunnel that received tens of thousands of visitors, and got lots of good press. Staff are usually willing to make the effort, and management are keen to do something, it’s a matter of co-ordinating and making it happen. Rather than indulging in more selfish office practices, you could actually boost the community and get more people through the door instead. For private firms, open days are a brilliant idea too, you can combine it with recruitment to create an informal jobs fair, very handy at the holidays as lots of people become

[lindsaystravelblogs4]

16-19 March Camperdown

Saturday

We left Portland and drove to Camperdown today.  Heather took us via some interesting back roads – much more interesting than barrelling down the highway with sixty tonnes of truck barking up our tailpipe.  We took it slowly, calling in at a couple of lakes along the way and stopped in at the Mortlake pub for lunch.  We really like pub lunches even if they are rarely gourmet meals.  Especially in country areas, they are almost always welcoming, often quaintly decorated, with people wanting to chat, and the meals are always enormous.  We love them.

We were soon at Camperdown where we have stayed a few times before, including in our old van at least twenty years ago.  That time, there was a huge gale blowing and we were parked on the site behind where we are at present and we just about got blown off the mountain in the gale.  I had to tie the van to the tree next door and moved the car to try to form a windbreak, but it was certainly a wild and very scary night, wondering if we would survive until morning or simply be blown away.  It has been a bit windy this time too, but nowhere near as bad as that time so long ago.  I have still had to wind the awning in each night to keep the noise down and to avoid possible damage to it, or the caravan itself.

The site we are on is a shocker.  It is seriously sloping, and we have had to use every block of wood we have to jack the front of the van up at least a metre and there is still a slight downward slope threatening to catapult us down into bed every time we move around inside.  It took us ages to get set up and I was quite nervous that the van could fall off our little mountain of blocks and hurl us further down the hill.

Once all was secure, we went for a drive to refresh our memory of the town and its surrounding lakes.  The whole area is dotted with lakes, presumably all volcanic in origin many millennia ago.  We drove around a couple of the closer ones and noted their respective birdlife before refuelling at the local BP station.  We have a BP app that gives us points when we make a purchase, but there was a sign outside the servo offering four cents per litre off with any receipt from a supermarket.  We needed a few things so went to the supermarket to get a receipt before purchasing our fuel.  Alas, they declined to give us the discount because they said we hadn’t spent enough at the supermarket (although the sign stated ANY receipt and they didn’t know how much would have been enough anyway!) and then declined to give us our points because they said they were not part of that BP deal.  Needless to say, we didn’t buy any more fuel from them.

Sunday 

We had an interesting day today: lots of driving, but lots of stops along the way too.  We were away a little earlier than usual and headed for Port Fairy about seventy kilometres away, but we went via lots of back roads so it was quite a bit further.  We called in at a couple of lakes (along this route, as well as along the coast on our way back home again) looking for birds.  We identified forty species today, including seven that we had not previously seen on this trip, bringing our trip total to 104 – eventually 118 for the whole trip!

Our first stop was at the lovely Lake Cartcarrong at Winslowe – how have we not discovered this gem before? – where we saw lots of birds and a good variety at that.  A really delightful place to stop and explore - we will allow more time next time.

We stopped a few more times before we reached Port Fairy but virtually drove through the town to the beach and back along the Moyne River.  We followed the river out to Lough Belfast and ate our lunch on the edge of the lough at the very end of the airport runway.  We went on to Killarney Beach, past another small lake (part of the Moyne Lagoon, I think) with a surprising variety of birds – including at least three more species of waders that took a lot of research to identify.  Heather took us to several other lakes, including another rich variety of birds at a creek and ‘dampland’ just out of Warrnambool – quite close to the beach, but all freshwater birds.

We stopped at a café in Warrnambool for a coffee – something that is extremely rare for us, but neither of us had slept well last night and I thought it might be good to spark up my system with a burst of caffeine/adrenaline before heading for a drive through Tower Hill and home.  Tower Hill was a bit disappointing.  Parks Victoria has sanitised it to the extent that there is very little accessible that is of any interest to us - at least without a long walk.  We drove through it but stopped only momentarily a couple of times.

Then we drove home to Camperdown and wonderful showers – for one reason or another it had been a few days, and showering was a delight.

Monday

We did another big loop today, out to Apollo Bay and back through the Otways to the main highway and back to Camperdown.  We started by driving south through Cobden and Timboon to Port Campbell where we explored the clifftop, taking care not to be blown into the sea – a veritable gale was blowing most of the day.  We then followed the Great Ocean Road along the coast, calling in at Loch Ard – much of which is now closed.  We were unable to get to any of the areas we used to enjoy, and it is a longer walk than in the past to see anything much at all.  We live in a ridiculous Nanny State where anything of interest is fenced off in case one of us idiots should be stupid enough to walk off the edge.

We drove straight past most of the other ‘vantage points/tourist traps’ along the coast.  Anywhere around the Twelve (currently Eight) Apostles was decidedly cringeworthy.  There were so many tourists there that the carparks were full and even both road verges were parked solid for a kilometre each side of the visitor’s centre.  And there was a flood of pedestrians dashing across from side to side of the road, making driving past a challenge in itself.

We drove on to Apollo Bay and out to the Cape Otway Lightstation.  The Lightstation is currently closed due to a recent earthquake that caused the spill of some mercury inside the station, making it unsafe until the cleanup is complete.  We went for a longish walk along part of the Great South West Walk to catch a glimpse of the lighthouse – but I remain unconvinced that it was worth it. 

When we were turning back, we were overtaken by a couple of German tourists who were quite agitated, having just encountered what we think was a baby black snake on the path.  We calmed them down but they still left us in their dust as we all returned to the carpark.  We called back in at the Information Centre to buy a cold drink and got into conversation with the ticket collector (was it $30 concession? to walk around the outside of the Lighthouse – reduced because the building was closed).  He was quite a character who hailed from the Western Australian eastern goldfields, and we had a few things in common making it very difficult to escape his exuberance.  Fortunately, a group of tourists arrived and we encouraged him to deal with them while we headed for the car.

We then cut north again through some heavily wooded country and into some forest where we seemed to twist and turn a hundred corners before reaching Highway One at Colac and thence back to Camperdown.

Tuesday

We spent most of the day in the van today.  We did a big load of washing in the morning but despite the constant wind, it was a cold day and nothing got completely dry.  There was also a bit of rain from time to time, just spots that ensured our washing still needed a bit more drying inside the van overnight.

Later in the day, we went for a walk in the nearby Botanic Gardens.  In fact, the gardens cover about a hundred acres, including the entire caravan park that the trustees hope to reclaim as soon as they can persuade Council to move the park from its current illegal occupation to somewhere else in town.  We got into conversation with the woman who does most of the gardening, as well as running the Friends Group.  Victoria has quite a few of these country town gardens and is apparently unique in the world for them.  She told us a lot about the history, not just about these gardens but also about other country gardens where she is often a guest speaker.  We could have talked for ages, but after 30-45 minutes, we were all getting cold and retreated to warmer places – for us, our caravan and dinner.

[rjmarxwi]

6 Popular Outdoor Signs in Green Bay and Fond Du Lac, WI

Visitors often drop into stores on their way and buy many things that may not be essential. While some may call it a sheer waste of money, the business owner and/or sellers are elated to add to their profits. The concerned store must be identified by the prospective buyers and visitors first. Welcoming them into the store or showcasing the products only ensues after that. This makes it necessary to put up attractive outdoor signs in Green Bay and Fond du Lac, WI, that draw the attention of the passersby.

It suffices to know that an apt outdoor sign indicates professionalism that drags the buyers to the concerned shop. The signs are as diverse as the types of business products. Moreover, the location of the sign is all-important as well. These signs tend to cost a little more than pasting a sign on the window front of the store. However, they are also more effective and serve as local advertisements aimed at the individuals residing there. The seller would do well to check the following signs that happen to be most popular today and pick the right one:

1. Channel Letter Signs - These are 3-D letters that are customized to form the name of the brand or the shop. It is commonly used at the front of the store or its entrance, thus capturing instant attention. It is important to select the right shape and style of individual letters to create a sense of harmony without losing focus.

2. Monument Signs - This is a low-profile sign that is usually installed at the ground level. Previously used to identify a heritage or public building, the signs may be used to mark the entrance of a commercial building that houses multiple stores, too.

3. Pylon Signs - The sign is freestanding and is supported with poles on one or both sides. Often erected at a considerable height, the sign may contain two separate messages on either surface. This is most useful to grab the attention of people driving past.

4. Banner - This is the best way to announce an upcoming event or a new product introduced in the market. It may be installed on walls or at the crossroads to catch immediate attention. The user can reveal their creativity by playing with words and graphics alike. Its cost-effectiveness drives its popularity, with many users preferring to use banners in addition to other outdoor signage.

5. Awnings - Although not signage in the conventional sense, the awnings over store entrances and windows often double up as an area for the promotion of products. The retail store owners are happy to prevent advertising expenses without losing out on customers.

6. Wayfinding Signs - Stores that are located within giant supermarkets or shopping malls often install these signs to direct their customers to the right store. Such signs may also be put up within the shop to help the customers find their way around different sections.

Many companies hand out souvenirs at events to promote their brand. Custom shirt printing in Green Bay and Appleton, WI, is in demand for its unique advantage that enables the business to advertise its product on the go.