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#june: blood orange soda
hightro · 2 years
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2022!!
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eskandarrohani · 4 months
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(tried something different because it's been hard to think)
June oozes with waves of disorientation fat hot wiggles floating off the asphalt And the syrupy fly trap of a confession to the girl I like outside our middle school cafeteria
The one who likes to yell and I like to tease and let boss me around
Because her mouth makes that funny rubber band shape when she’s pissed And she walks with me on my way to detention And sits next to me in science her eraser shavings gray trophies always on the table because scribbling bad words in the margins of her notes when she’s not looking tempts with victory
Because soda bubbles fizz in my head at the sturdiness of her spine Unafraid of the flashes of my bee sting rage how I will fight until I die
We stay friends and she still walks with me to detention Scrawls bad words on my notes after removing them from hers
.
June shimmers beneath tireless sun yearns for the ice cream truck siren crooning temptation the heat heavy beneath the petals of a blanket fort the press of a hand on my shoulder by the boy I like
The one whose mouth tastes of blue raspberry ice pop whose touch is warm and known because we’re best friends best friends who keep secrets
And uncover new ones all the time in his room mine school bathrooms the shadows behind buildings
Hoard a treasure precious with mattress creaks eyebrow twitches words shattered by a gasp
I’m greedy
Not only for the thrilled mess at the end sticky as the air between us hands and knees in the carpet not sujood but no less holy
But for his shyness as his lies there shining Heart cloud soft and eyelids drooping
We blend together boneless sweating
His skin against mine my hearing smoothed away as I worship his breathing
.
June crashes overhead with hard blows of water hurricaning down on the shingles desperate to break the roof in punches with the laugh of the boy I like
The one with the hungry Ramadan grin blood in his teeth because I always hit back His body made of angles that puzzle piece with mine even the gaps between his fingers because he isn’t afraid of asteroids and he’s hit boys twice his size over and over until they pissed themselves on the concrete
I get stupid When those hands grip me pulsing veins plucked cello strings his fingerprints beneath my clothes and his spit on my skin When those hands share cigarettes pawned off a friend of a friend nicotine fingerprints on my lips and the orange ember glowing in the mirror of his eyes When he squeezes shoves explores detonates because everything with him feels best when we’re braced for a fight
.
June dreams in cricket love poetry its short black nights waft with pirouetting fireflies and the whine of emaciated mosquitos
It chirps and swoons thick over uneven concrete over the bench where I sit beside the person I like the person I will someday love
A friend whose favorite weapons are been the silver sparks in their brain and the sharpness of their tongue
A friend who wrestles on the role of an enemy once in a while to see if it fits them us better
But not right now
Right now we sit on a bench together waiting for the bus home from a friend’s party
Our knees don’t touch because they haven’t yet worked out the colors of what I think or feel but I know what they’re wading through whenever our eyes meet feet sticking with every labored step
Hey, they begin
The words taper off Possibilities wait to unfold newly emerged butterfly wings still wet and crumpled fresh from the chrysalis
I think about butterflies and moths and caterpillars How I used to watch them squirm crush them on the blacktop to see what color their insides were How they prepare their own shrouds and go to God in liquid oblivion How they reemerge
We sit on a bench together
Hey, they say again and the firmed line of their mouth looks so nice even if it isn’t puckered into a crumpled shape or sweet with blue raspberry ice pop or flashing teeth glazed by blood
Do you ever wonder if you might be
And my knee taps theirs and they fall silent
Because the bus is here
And we sit on the bus together
knees touching thighs touching saying nothing
They stare out the window into the night the tips of their ears pink Because if they don’t look outside they might look at me and find me staring
So they gaze out the window
And I watch them and imagine
what the view from their bedroom window is from their mattress how the star patterned curtains sway in the summer breeze
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honeyweaselcandles · 2 years
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That's right, you heard it here first!
Homestuck Candles now for Sale!
Purchase here, list of current stock and their scents below the read more. Tealights now available!
Aradia Megido: Black cherry, graveyard dirt, and petrichor
Sollux Captor: Honey, sage, citrus, and apple.
Karkat Vantas: Black coffee, maraschino cherries, and warm cotton sweaters
John/June Egbert: Blue razzberry gushers, fresh air, coconut, and bright lime.
Eridan Ampora: Sea salt, violets, ozone, and damp scarves.
Nepeta Lejion: Fallen leaves, fresh dirt, chamo-meow-ile, mint, and a bit of patchouli.
Gamzee Makara: Lime, baked goods, cannabis, and sea salt.
Vriska Serket: Blood orange, grapefruit, lemon, and ginger.
Roxy Lalonde: Cotton candy, orchids, and sea spray.
Jake English: Pine, cedar, cut wood, woodsmoke, and caramel popcorn.
Jade Harley: Fresh snow, tomato leaf, dirt, and light musk.
Rose Lalonde: Roses, lilacs, clean rain, and old books.
Dirk Strider: Teakwood, orange soda, amber, with a hint of steel, motor oil, and sea salt.
Jane Crocker: Cupcakes, vanilla, and tobacco smoke.
Calliope: Old books, brown sugar, lime, and fresh linens.
All currently $11 each with a minimum of $6 shipping per order. If you don't see your favorite character, I have a suggestion form here, and a commission form here if you just can't wait. I can do just about any fandom or character as long as you're willing work with me!
Dave Strider: Crisp apple, thyme, sandalwood, jasmine, and a hint of vinyl.
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the slight  amrap list  comparison of  songs, 
i  will compare this  song  list , to the   most played  songs  of  2022
Tasman Keith
Sampa The Great
1300
Ninajirachi
Barkaa
Yawdoesitall
Dry Cleaning
Teether
Sudan Archives
Jamaica Moana
e4444e
Julia Jacklin
FKA Twigs
Party Dozen
Becca Hatch
Body Type
Shygirl
Alex G
Chakra Efendi
Mike Akox
romaeo
Hatchie
PANIA
Flowertruck
Moktar
Loose Fit
Loraine James
Soccer Mommy
Chanel Loren
Library Siesta
Mall Grab
SAULT
hyche
Genesis Owusu
Shady Nasty
King Stingray
Miiesha
PinkPantheress
BOY SODA
LSDXOXO
Elsy Wameyo
Mali Jo$e
Ashli
Scruffs
Flume
Weyes Blood
Cousin
Moonchild Sanelly
Saba
Two Shell
Budjerah
Anieszka
Gold Fang
June Jones
dameeeela
Show Me The Body
Lupa J
Jockstrap
ELIZA
Kobie Dee
Nick Griffith
MUNGMUNG
Lara Andallo
Kelly Lee Owens
BLESSED
Skeleten
Ms. Thandi
Charli XCX
SPEED
Milan Ring
SOLLYY
HAAi
Dallas Woods
Greentea Peng
Thelma Plum
DJ Plead
Wu-Lu
A.GIRL
Club Angel
Ngaiire
Obongjayar
Wet Leg
Mulalo
Blood Orange
Carla dal Forno
Nilüfer Yanya
Eyedress
Death Bells
700 Bliss
Sweetie
Caroline Polachek
Gloomie
DSP
Rainbow Chan
Nardean
Mouse
Billymaree
BAYANG (THA BUSHRANGER)
198archie
Kelela
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guess who’s on her Percy Jackson shit again, this time with camp half-blood headcanons, post last olympian:
I imagine some of the year round campers can’t stand the bright orange shirts, so at some point the Iris cabin starts making different colored shirts for all the campers
The Aphrodite cabin gets wind of this and takes it one step further, with different styles, hoodies, seasonal wear, and more
The Hecate cabin enchants some of these items (I like to imagine an introverted daughter of hecate with a black camp hoodie that works like Annabeth’s hat. She turns invisible whenever she puts the hood up)
summer campers bring all kinds of contraband every June, candy, soda, comic books, you name it, there’s basically a camp black market every summer
a few years down the line they get another child of the big 3, who unfortunately has to live with an empty cabin, which they hate
So some kids get permission from Chiron to have sleepovers at their cabin once a week
They also convince Chiron to let them mix up the tables every once in a while, so this kid isn’t always eating alone
The Iris kids throw the biggest pride party every summer
And the Hades & Hecate cabins work together for halloween, obviously
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, when the Poseidon cabin inevitably gains more than 2 campers they start a sea shanty group, which of course leads to a battle of the bands with the Apollo kids
Some of the other cabins get in on this, including Ares with a heavy metal band, Hecate with a Florence + the machine cover band, and Aphrodite with a spice girls cover band
Dionysus’s kids perform Cult of Dionysus by the Orion Experience, much to their father’s dismay
I have no idea where they get all the instruments, and I don’t care,I just want this
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deadvolce-a · 2 years
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15 muse associations!
Tagged by: @animatronicabundance
Tagging: the girl person reading this. [ i just... don't know who to tag and everyone I have followed has already been tagged so... ]
under a read more bc I did 4 of my main muses, whoops. chosen by my partner for funsies.
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WILLIAM AFTON.
ANIMAL: Rabbit. (Lol) Alternatively, a hyena.
COLOR(S): Purple, Yellow, Red.
MONTH: October.
SONG(S): It's Been so Long - The Living Tombstone, Hayloft II - Mother Mother, Are You Satisfied - Marina and The Diamonds, Bird Song - Florence + The Machine.
NUMBER: 87
DAY OR NIGHT: Day.
PLANT(S): Chrysanthemum.
SMELL(S): Chocolate cake, gasoline.
GEMSTONE: Onyx.
SEASON: Fall.
PLACE(S): Pizzerias, 80s arcades, Diners, Basements
FOOD(S): Pizza, Candy, Pancakes.
ASTROLOGICAL SIGN: Gemini.
ELEMENT(S): Earth, Fire.
DRINK(S): Vodka, Orange Soda.
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JACK BRIGHT.
ANIMAL: Fennec fox.
COLOR(S): Red, Grey, Brown.
MONTH: December.
SONG(S): Body - Mother Mother, TWISTED - Missio, My Ordinary Life - The Living Tombstone.
NUMBER: 100
DAY OR NIGHT: Night.
PLANT(S): Yellow carnations.
SMELL(S): Coffee, Mint, Dark chocolate.
GEMSTONE: Ruby.
SEASON: Fall.
PLACE(S): Site - 19, Offices, Cafeterias, Library.
FOOD(S): Croissants, Wasabi.
ASTROLOGICAL SIGN: Leo.
ELEMENT(S): Fire.
DRINK(S): Black Coffee.
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ALTO CLEF.
ANIMAL: Grizzly Bear
COLOR(S): Green, Blue
MONTH: June.
SONG(S): Sex with a Ghost - Teddy Hyde, Little Pistol - Mother Mother, Hayloft - Mother Mother, A Sadness Runs Through Him - The Hossiers.
NUMBER: 56
DAY OR NIGHT: Night.
PLANT(S): Red roses.
SMELL(S): Sweet Tea, Cigaratte Smoke.
GEMSTONE: Jade.
SEASON: Spring.
PLACE(S): A bar, a concert, a grandparent's house.
FOOD(S): Cupcakes.
ASTROLOGICAL SIGN: Libra.
ELEMENT(S): Air, Earth.
DRINK(S): Whiskey.
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HENRY STEIN | art by @/doberart.
ANIMAL: Panda.
COLOR(S): Beige, Yellow, Black, Brown.
MONTH: July
SONG(S): Build Our Machine - DAGames, Epoch - Savlonic.
NUMBER: 20
DAY OR NIGHT: Day.
PLANT(S): Forget-me-not.
SMELL(S): Ink, Fresh blood, Smoke
GEMSTONE: N/A, I can't associate him with any.
SEASON: Winter.
PLACE(S): Studios, A grandparent's house, a desk, a classroom.
FOOD(S): Hamburgers.
ASTROLOGICAL SIGN: Taurus.
ELEMENT(S): Earth.
DRINK(S): Espresso.
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kookie-doughs · 4 years
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Y/N L/N AND THE HALFBLOODS
Percy Jackson X Reader
-Y/N L/N met Percy Jackson and everything was now ruined.
CHAPTER 15: Spiders Aren't Water Proof
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The next afternoon, June 14, seven days before the solstice, our train rolled into Denver. We hadn't eaten since the night before in the dining car, somewhere in Kansas. We hadn't taken a shower since Half-Blood Hill, and I was sure that was obvious. "Let's try to contact Chiron," Annabeth said. "I want to tell him about your talk with the river spirit." "We can't use phones, right?" "I'm not talking about phones." We wandered through downtown for about half an hour, though I wasn't sure what Annabeth was looking for. The air was dry and hot, which felt weird after the humidity of St. Louis. Everywhere we turned, the Rocky Mountains seemed to be staring at me, like a tidal wave about to crash into the city. Finally we found an empty do-it-yourself car wash. We veered toward the stall farthest from the street, keeping our eyes open for patrol cars. We were four adolescents hanging out at a car wash without a car; any cop worth his doughnuts would figure we were up to no good. "What exactly are we doing?" Percy asked, as Grover took out the spray gun. "It's seventy-five cents," he grumbled. "I've only got two quarters left. Annabeth?" "Don't look at me," she said. "The dining car wiped me out." I fished out my last bit of change and passed Grover a quarter, which left me two nickels and one drachma from Medusa's place. "Excellent," Grover said. "We could do it with a spray bottle, of course, but the connection isn't as good, and my arm gets tired of pumping." "What are you talking about?" He fed in the quarters and set the knob to FINE MIST. "I-M'ing." "Instant messaging?" "Iris-messaging," Annabeth corrected. "The rainbow goddess Iris carries messages for the gods. If you know how to ask, and she's not too busy, she'll do the same for half-bloods." "You summon the goddess with a spray gun?" Grover pointed the nozzle in the air and water hissed out in a thick white mist. "Unless you know an easier way to make a rainbow."
Sure enough, late afternoon light filtered through the vapor and broke into colors. Annabeth held her palm out to me. "Drachma, please." I handed it over. She raised the coin over her head. "O goddess, accept our offering." She threw the drachma into the rainbow. It disappeared in a golden shimmer. "Half-Blood Hill," Annabeth requested. For a moment, nothing happened. Then I was looking through the mist at strawberry fields, and the Long Island Sound in the distance. We seemed to be on the porch of the Big House. Standing with his back to us at the railing was a sandy-haired guy in shorts and an orange tank top. He was holding a bronze sword and seemed to be staring intently at something down in the meadow. "Luke!" I called. He turned, eyes wide. I could swear he was standing three feet in front of me through a screen of mist, except I could only see the part of him that appeared in the rainbow. "Y/N!" His scarred face broke into a grin. "Is that Annabeth and Percy, too? Thank the gods! Are you guys okay?" "We're... uh... fine," Annabeth stammered. She was madly straightening her dirty T-shirt, trying to comb the loose hair out of her face. "We thought—Chiron—I mean—" "He's down at the cabins." Luke's smile faded. "We're having some issues with the campers. Listen, is everything cool with you? Is Grover all right?" "I'm right here," Grover called. He held the nozzle out to one side and stepped into Luke's line of vision. "What kind of issues?" Just then a big Lincoln Continental pulled into the car wash with its stereo turned to maximum hip-hop. As the car slid into the next stall, the bass from the subwoofers vibrated so much, it shook the pavement. "Chiron had to—what's that noise?" Luke yelled. "I'll take care of it.'" Annabeth yelled back, looking very relieved to have an excuse to get out of sight. "Grover, come on! "What?" Grover said. "But—" "Give Percy the nozzle and come on!" she ordered. Grover muttered something about girls being harder to understand than the Oracle at Delphi, then he handed me the spray gun and followed Annabeth. Percy readjusted the hose so we could keep the rainbow going and still see Luke. "Chiron had to break up a fight," Luke shouted to me over the music. "Things are pretty tense here, guys. Word leaked out about the Zeus—Poseidon standoff. We're still not sure how—probably the same scumbag who summoned the hellhound. Now the campers are starting to take sides. It's shaping up like the Trojan War all over again. Aphrodite, Ares, and Apollo are backing Poseidon, more or less. Athena is backing Zeus." In the next stall, I heard Annabeth and some guy arguing with each other, then the music's volume decreased drastically. "So what's your status?" Luke asked us. "Chiron will be sorry he missed you." We told him pretty much everything, including Percy's dreams. It felt so good to see him, to feel like I was back at camp even for a few minutes, that I didn't realize how long I had talked until the beeper went off on the spray machine, and I realized I only had one more minute before the water shut off. "I wish I could be there," Luke told me. "We can't help much from here, I'm afraid, but listen... it had to be Hades who took the master bolt. He was there at Olympus at the winter solstice. I was chaperoning a field trip and we saw him." "But Chiron said the gods can't take each other's magic items directly." "That's true," Luke said, looking troubled. "Still... Hades has the helm of darkness. How could anybody else sneak into the throne room and steal the master bolt? You'd have to be invisible." We were both silent, until Luke seemed to realize what he'd said. "Oh, hey," he protested. "I didn't mean Annabeth. She and I have known each other forever. She would never... I mean, she's like a little sister to me." I wondered if Annabeth would like that description. In the stall next to us, the music stopped completely. A man screamed in terror, car doors slammed, and the Lincoln peeled out of the car wash. "You'd better go see what that was," Luke said. "Listen, has the knife come in handy?" "Very..." I smiled. "The knife is really perfect." "And Percy, are you wearing the flying shoes? I'll feel better if I know they've done you some good." "Oh... uh, yeah!" Percy tried not to sound like a guilty liar. "Yeah, they've come in handy." "Really?" He grinned. "They fit and everything?" The water shut off. The mist started to evaporate. "Well, take care of yourself out there in Denver," Luke called, his voice getting fainter. "And tell Grover it'll be better this time! Nobody will get turned into a pine tree if he just—" But the mist was gone, and Luke's image faded to nothing. We were alone in a wet, empty car wash stall. Annabeth and Grover came around the corner, laughing, but stopped when they saw our face. Annabeth's smile faded. "What happened, Percy? What did Luke say?" "Not much," Percy lied. "Come on, let's find some dinner." A few minutes later, we were sitting at a booth in a gleaming chrome diner. All around us, families were eating burgers and drinking malts and sodas. Finally the waitress came over. She raised her eyebrow skeptically. "Well?" I said, "We, um, want to order dinner." "You kids have money to pay for it?" Grover's lower lip quivered. I was afraid he would start bleating, or worse, start eating the linoleum. Annabeth looked ready to pass out from hunger. I was trying to think up a sob story for the waitress when a rumble shook the whole building; a motorcycle the size of a baby elephant had pulled up to the curb. All conversation in the diner stopped. The motorcycle's headlight glared red. Its gas tank had flames painted on it, and a shotgun holster riveted to either side, complete with shotguns. The seat was leather—but leather that looked like... well, Caucasian human skin. The guy on the bike would've made pro wrestlers run for Mama. He was dressed in a red muscle shirt and black jeans and a black leather duster, with a hunting knife strapped to his thigh. He wore red wraparound shades, and he had the cruelest, most brutal face I'd ever seen— handsome, I guess, but wicked—with an oily black crew cut and cheeks that were scarred from many, many fights. The weird thing was, I felt like I'd seen his face somewhere before. As he walked into the diner, a hot, dry wind blew through the place. All the people rose, as if they were hypnotized, but the biker waved his hand dismissively and they all sat down again. Everybody went back to their conversations. The waitress blinked, as if somebody had just pressed the rewind button on her brain. She asked us again, "You kids have money to pay for it?" The biker said, "It's on me." He slid into our booth, which was way too small for him, and crowded Annabeth against the window. He looked up at the waitress, who was gaping at him, and said, "Are you still here?" He pointed at her, and she stiffened. She turned as if she'd been spun around, then marched back toward the kitchen. The biker looked at me. I couldn't see his eyes behind the red shades. Who did this guy think he was? He gave me a wicked grin. "So you're the unclaimed kid, huh? No wonder they're arguing over who your parent is." I squinted at him, "The hell does my parents have to do with this?" "Well, which ever stuck up your parent is, the big guys upstairs are angry for interfering with your life." He said and placed his dirty boots on the table. "Your parent raised you with your mortal idiots, that's why no one can smell you." I could tell Annabeth wanted to say something but she probably was processing what this guy said. "Don't call my parents idiot. And I only have two parents, it's M/N and D/N L/N." I glared. I was confused as to why an Olympian would raise me and it'd hide my scent. Shouldn't it make worse? "Sure thing." He then turned to Percy who was beside me. "And old seaweed's kid." "What's it to you?" Percy spat. Annabeth's eyes flashed him a warning. "Percy, this is—" The biker raised his hand. "S'okay," he said. "I don't mind a little attitude. Long as you remember who's the boss. You know who I am, little cousin?" Then it struck me why this guy looked familiar. He had the same vicious sneer as some of the kids at Camp Half-Blood, the ones from cabin five. "You're Clarisse's dad," Percy said. "Ares, god of war." Ares grinned and took off his shades. Where his eyes should've been, there was only fire, empty sockets glowing with miniature nuclear explosions. "That's right, punk. I heard you broke Clarisse's spear." "She was asking for it." "Probably. That's cool. I don't fight my kids' fights, you know? What I'm here for—I heard you were in town. I got a little proposition for you." The waitress came back with heaping trays of food—cheeseburgers, fries, onion rings, and chocolate shakes. Ares handed her a few gold drachmas. She looked nervously at the coins. "But, these aren't..." Ares pulled out his huge knife and started cleaning his fingernails. "Problem, sweetheart?" The waitress swallowed, then left with the gold. "You can't do that," I told Ares. "You can't just threaten people with a knife." Ares laughed. "Are you kidding? I love this country. Best place since Sparta. Don't you carry a weapon, punk? You should. Dangerous world out there. Which brings me to my proposition." He turned to Percy, "I need you to do me a favor." "What favor could I do for a god?" "Something a god doesn't have time to do himself. It's nothing much. I left my shield at an abandoned water park here in town. I was going on a little... date with my girlfriend. We were interrupted. I left my shield behind. I want you to fetch it for me." "Why don't you go back and get it yourself?" The fire in his eye sockets glowed a little hotter. "Why don't I turn you into a prairie dog and run you over with my Harley? Because I don't feel like it. A god is giving you an opportunity to prove yourself, Percy Jackson. Will you prove yourself a coward?" He leaned forward. "Or maybe you only fight when there's a river to dive into, so your daddy can protect you." I wanted to punch this guy, but I knew he was waiting for that. He'd love it if I attacked. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction. But by the gods I want to smack him. Maybe some other time. "We're not interested," I said. "We've already got a quest." Ares's fiery eyes made me see things I didn't want to see—blood and smoke and corpses on the battlefield. "I know all about your quest, punk. When that item was first stolen, Zeus sent his best out looking for it: Apollo, Athena, Artemis, and me, naturally. If I couldn't sniff out a weapon that powerful..." He licked his lips, as if the very thought of the master bolt made him hungry. "Well... if I couldn't find it, you got no hope. Nevertheless, I'm trying to give you the benefit of the doubt. Your dad and I go way back. After all, I'm the one who told him my suspicions about old Corpse Breath." "You told him Hades stole the bolt?" "Sure. Framing somebody to start a war. Oldest trick in the book. I recognized it immediately. In a way, you got me to thank for your little quest." "Thanks," Percy grumbled. "Hey, I'm a generous guy. Just do my little job, and I'll help you on your way. I'll arrange a ride west for you and your friends." "We're doing fine on our own." "Yeah, right. No money. No wheels. No clue what you're up against. Help me out, and maybe I'll tell you something you need to know. Something about your mom and Y/N's parents." "Our parents?" He grinned. "That got your attention. The water park is a mile west on Delancy. You can't miss it. Look for the Tunnel of Love ride." "What interrupted your date?" I asked. "Something scare you off?" Ares bared his teeth, but I'd seen his threatening look before on Clarisse. There was something false about it, almost like he was nervous. "You're lucky you met me, punk, and not one of the other Olympians. They're not as forgiving of rudeness as I am. I'll meet you back here when you're done. Don't disappoint me." After that I must have fainted, or fallen into a trance, because when I opened my eyes again, Ares was gone. I might've thought the conversation had been a dream, but Annabeth and Grover's expressions told me otherwise. "Not good," Grover said. "Ares sought you out, Percy. This is not good." I stared out the window. The motorcycle had disappeared. Did Ares really know something about our parents, or was he just playing with me? Now that he was gone, all the anger had drained out of me. I realized Ares must love to mess with people's emotions. That was his power—cranking up the passions so badly, they clouded your ability to think. He does not lie. He knows about your parents. "It's probably some kind of trick, Y/N," Percy said. "Forget Ares. Let's just go." "We can't," Annabeth said. "Look, I hate Ares as much as anybody, but you don't ignore the gods unless you want serious bad fortune. He wasn't kidding about turning you into a rodent." "Why does he need us?" "Maybe it's a problem that requires brains," Annabeth said. "Ares has strength. That's all he has. Even strength has to bow to wisdom sometimes." "But this water park... he acted almost scared. What would make a war god run away like that?" Annabeth and Grover glanced nervously at each other. Annabeth said, "I'm afraid we'll have to find out." The sun was sinking behind the mountains by the time we found the water park. Judging from the sign, it once had been called WATERLAND, but now some of the letters were smashed out, so it read WAT R A D. The main gate was padlocked and topped with barbed wire. Inside, huge dry waterslides and tubes and pipes curled everywhere, leading to empty pools. Old tickets and advertisements fluttered around the asphalt. With night coming on, the place looked sad and creepy. "If Ares brings his girlfriend here for a date," I said, staring up at the barbed wire, "I'd hate to see what she looks like." "Y/N," Annabeth warned. "Be more respectful." "Why? I thought you hated Ares." "He's still a god. And his girlfriend is very temperamental." "You don't want to insult her looks," Grover added. "Who is she? Echidna?" "No, Aphrodite," Grover said, a little dreamily. "Goddess of love." "I thought she was married to somebody," Percy said. "Hephaestus." "What's your point?" he asked. I suddenly felt the need to change the subject. "So how do we get in?" "Maia!" Grover's shoes sprouted wings. He flew over the fence, did an unintended somersault in midair, then stumbled to a landing on the opposite side. He dusted off his jeans, as if he'd planned the whole thing. "You guys coming?" Annabeth, Percy and I had to climb the old-fashioned way, holding down the barbed wire for each other as we crawled over the top. The shadows grew long as we walked through the park, checking out the attractions. There was Ankle Biter Island, Head Over Wedgie, and Dude, Where's My Swimsuit? No monsters came to get us. Nothing made the slightest noise. We found a souvenir shop that had been left open. Merchandise still lined the shelves: snow globes, pencils, postcards, and racks of— "Clothes," Annabeth said. "Fresh clothes." "Oh my gods yes." "Yeah," Percy said. "But you can't just—" "Watch us." She snatched an entire row of stuff of the racks and offered me a hand which I graciously took, together we disappeared into the changing room. "I need a shower." I groaned, while I changed. "We all do." She pointed out. A few minutes later we came out in Waterland flower-print shorts, a big red Waterland T-shirt, and commemorative Waterland surf shoes. A Waterland backpack was slung over our shoulders, obviously stuffed with more goodies. "What the heck." Grover shrugged. Soon, all three of us were decked out like walking advertisements for the defunct theme park. We continued searching for the Tunnel of Love. I got the feeling that the whole park was holding its breath. "So Ares and Aphrodite," Percy said, to keep my mind off the growing dark, "they have a thing going?" "That's old gossip, Percy," Annabeth told us. "Three-thousand-year-old gossip." "What about Aphrodite's husband?" "Well, you know," she said. "Hephaestus. The blacksmith. He was crippled when he was a baby, thrown off Mount Olympus by Zeus. So he isn't exactly handsome. Clever with his hands, and all, but Aphrodite isn't into brains and talent, you know?" "She likes bikers." "Whatever." "Hephaestus knows?" "Oh sure," Annabeth said. "He caught them together once. I mean, literally caught them, in a golden net, and invited all the gods to come and laugh at them. Hephaestus is always trying to embarrass them. That's why they meet in out-of-the-way places, like..." She stopped, looking straight ahead. "Like that." In front of us was an empty pool that would've been awesome for skateboarding. It was at least fifty yards across and shaped like a bowl. Around the rim, a dozen bronze statues of Cupid stood guard with wings spread and bows ready to fire. On the opposite side from us, a tunnel opened up, probably where the water flowed into when the pool was full. The sign above it read, THRILL RIDE O' LOVE: THIS IS NOT YOUR PARENTS' TUNNEL OF LOVE! Grover crept toward the edge. "Guys, look." Marooned at the bottom of the pool was a pink-and-white two-seater boat with a canopy over the top and little hearts painted all over it. In the left seat, glinting in the fading light, was Ares's shield, a polished circle of bronze. "This is too easy," I said. "So we just walk down there and get it?" Annabeth ran her fingers along the base of the nearest Cupid statue. "There's a Greek letter carved here," she said. "Eta. I wonder..." "Grover," Percy said, "you smell any monsters?" He sniffed the wind. "Nothing." "Nothing—like, in-the-Arch-and-you-didn't-smell-Echidna nothing, or really nothing?" Grover looked hurt. "I told you, that was underground." "Hey Percy, that wasn't nice." I glared. "Okay, I'm sorry." Percy took a deep breath. "I'm going down there." Pulling out my knife, "There isn't any monsters." "I'll go with Percy." Grover didn't sound too enthusiastic, but I got the feeling he was trying to make up for what had happened in St. Louis. "No," Percy told him. "I want you to stay up top with the flying shoes. You're the Red Baron, a flying ace, remember? I'll be counting on you for backup, in case something goes wrong." Grover puffed up his chest a little. "Sure. But what could go wrong?" "I don't know. Just a feeling. Y/N, will go with me—" "Yeah, I can go with." "Didn't take you as a romantic Seaweed Brain." Annabeth smirked. "What?" Percy's face was burning now, too. It made me laugh at how adorable he was. He turned to me and blushed even more. "Fine," he told us. "I'll do it myself." "Percy, I didn't say i don't want to come with!" I giggled. He started down the side of the pool, I followed, I hear him muttering about how this wasn't how its supposed go. Then I realized how we would've been surrounded by water. "Arthur Curry, if I drown I will beg Hades to have you." He paused and turned to take my hand and we continued walking. We reached the boat. The shield was propped on one seat, and next to it was a lady's silk scarf. I tried to imagine Ares and Aphrodite here, a couple of gods meeting in a junked-out amusement-park ride. Why? Then I noticed something I hadn't seen from up top: mirrors all the way around the rim of the pool, facing this spot. We could see ourselves no matter which direction we looked. That must be it. While Ares and Aphrodite were smooching with each other they could look at their favorite people: themselves. Percy picked up the scarf. It shimmered pink, and the perfume was indescribable—rose, or mountain laurel. He smiled, a little dreamy, and was about to rub the scarf against his cheek I frowned ripped it out of his hand and stuffed it in me pocket. "No." "What?" "Just get the shield, Arthur Curry, and let's get out of here." The moment he touched the shield, I knew we were in trouble. My hand broke through something that had been connecting it to the dashboard. A cobweb, I thought, but then I looked at a strand of it on my palm and saw it was some kind of metal filament, so fine it was almost invisible. A trip wire. "Wait," I said. "Too late." "There's another Greek letter on the side of the boat, another Eta. This is a trap." Noise erupted all around us, of a million gears grinding, as if the whole pool were turning into one giant machine. Grover yelled, "Guys!" Up on the rim, the Cupid statues were drawing their bows into firing position. Before I could suggest taking cover, they shot, but not at us. They fired at each other, across the rim of the pool. Silky cables trailed from the arrows, arcing over the pool and anchoring where they landed to form a huge golden asterisk. Then smaller metallic threads started weaving together magically between the main strands, making a net. "We have to get out," Percy said. "Woah I didn't know!" I said. Percy grabbed the shield and holding my hand we ran, but going up the slope of the pool was not as easy as going down. "I'm going to drown again aren't I? "Come on!" Grover shouted. He was trying to hold open a section of the net for us, but wherever he touched it, the golden threads started to wrap around his hands. The Cupids' heads popped open. Out came video cameras. Spotlights rose up all around the pool, blinding us with illumination, and a loudspeaker voice boomed: "Live to Olympus in one minute ... Fifty-nine seconds, fifty-eight ..." "Hephaestus!" Annabeth screamed. "I'm so stupid.' Eta is H.' He made this trap to catch his wife with Ares. Now we're going to be broadcast live to Olympus and look like absolute fools!" We'd almost made it to the rim when the row of mirrors opened like hatches and thousands of tiny metallic... things poured out. It was an army of wind-up creepy-crawlies: bronze-gear bodies, spindly legs, little pincer mouths, all scuttling toward us in a wave of clacking, whirring metal. "Spiders!" I said. I kicked these pests. Percy pulled me up and dragged my back toward the boat. "I am not staying here! I am so going to drown again!" The things were coming out from all around the rim now, millions of them, flooding toward the center of the pool, completely surrounding us. I told myself they probably weren't programmed to kill, just corral us and bite us and make us look stupid. Then again, this was a trap meant for gods. And we weren't gods. Percy and I climbed into the boat. Percy started kicking away the spiders as they swarmed aboard. I was swatting away some that I could. "Thirty, twenty-nine," called the loudspeaker. The spiders started spitting out strands of metal thread, trying to tie us down. The strands were easy enough to break at first, but there were so many of them, and the spiders just kept coming. I kicked one away from Percy's leg and its pincers took a chunk out of my new surf shoe. Annabeth was frozen from where she stood trying to keep away from us as much as possible. Grover hovered above the pool in his flying sneakers, trying to pull the net loose, but it wouldn't budge. Think, I told myself. Think. The Tunnel of Love entrance was under the net. We could use it as an exit, except that it was blocked by a million robot spiders. "Fifteen, fourteen," the loudspeaker called. Then I saw them: huge water pipes behind the mirrors, where the spiders had come from. And up above the net, next to one of the Cupids, a glass-windowed booth that must be the controller's station. "Annabeth!" Percy yelled. "Get into that booth! Find the 'on' switch!" Snapping out of her trance she turned. "But—" "Do it!" Annabeth was in the controller's booth now, staring at the buttons. "Five, four—" Annabeth sighed and started pushing every button, then looked up at us hopelessly, raising her hands. She was letting us know that she'd pushed every button, but still nothing was happening. "Y/N, I won't let you drown, just hold on!" I didn't think twice on nodding. Percy closed his eyes. "Two, one, zero!" Water exploded out of the pipes. It roared into the pool, sweeping away the spiders. He pulled me into the seat next to us and fastened me seat belt just as the tidal wave slammed into our boat, over the top, whisking the spiders away and dousing us completely, but not capsizing us. The boat turned, lifted in the flood, and spun in circles around the whirlpool. He held my hand tight afraid I'll drown the moment he lets go. The water was full of short-circuiting spiders, some of them smashing against the pool's concrete wall with such force they burst. Spotlights glared down at us. The Cupid-cams were rolling, live to Olympus. Percy and I held tight, both of us screaming as the boat shot curls and hugged corners and took forty-five-degree plunges past pictures of Romeo and Juliet and a bunch of other Valentine's Day stuff. Then we were out of the tunnel, the night air whistling through our hair as the boat barreled straight toward the exit. If the ride had been in working order, we would've sailed off a ramp between the golden Gates of Love and splashed down safely in the exit pool. But there was a problem. The Gates of Love were chained. Two boats that had been washed out of the tunnel before us were now piled against the barricade—one submerged, the other cracked in half. Jump. We have to jump. "Unfasten your seat belt," I yelled to Percy. Who already had his belt unfastened. "Jumping?" "We're going to have to jump for it." My idea was simple and insane. As the boat struck, we would use its force like a springboard to jump the gate. I'd heard of people surviving car crashes that way, getting thrown thirty or forty feet away from an accident. With luck, we would land in the pool. Hopefully not drown. Percy nodded. He gripped my hand as the gates got closer. "On my mark," I said. On mine. Jump when 'I' say so Perseus Jackson. He looked at me reluctantly. "How?" "What?" You'll know when I say so. "Fine." He shouted. "Jump when I jump!" "How would I know?!" "You'll say it!" "What?!" "Just tell me when to jump!!" "Now!" I yelled. I was about to jump when Percy pulled me closer. "Not yet! You didn't say it yet." Jump Hero. Percy jumped. I followed him. Crack! He was right. If we'd jumped when I thought we should've, we would've crashed into the gates. He got us maximum lift. Our boat smashed into the pileup and we were thrown into the air, straight over the gates, the pool was getting closer. I was going to drown again. Something grabbed me from behind. I yelled, "Ouch!" Grover! In midair, he had grabbed Percy by the shirt, and me by the arm, and was trying to pull us out of a crash landing, but we had all the momentum. "You're too heavy!" Grover said. "We're going down!" We spiraled toward the ground, Grover doing his best to slow the fall. We smashed into a photo-board, Grover's head going straight into the hole where tourists would put their faces, pretending to be Noo-Noo the Friendly Whale. Percy and I tumbled to the ground, banged up but alive. Ares's shield was still on Percy's arm. "Are you okay?" Percy panted. "Yeah... I didn't drown." Once we caught our breath, Percy and I went over to help Annabeth who was getting Grover out of the photo-board and thanked him for saving our lives. I looked back at the Thrill Ride of Love. The water was subsiding. Our boat had been smashed to pieces against the gates. A hundred yards away, at the entrance pool, the Cupids were still filming. The statues had swiveled so that their cameras were trained straight on us, the spotlights in our faces. I walked closer, "You guys suck." I blew blasphemy at the camera. Percy pulled me away. "Show's over!" Percy yelled. "Thank you! Good night!" The Cupids turned back to their original positions. The lights shut off. The park went quiet and dark again, except for the gentle trickle of water into the Thrill Ride of Love's exit pool. I wondered if Olympus had gone to a commercial break, or if our ratings had been any good. I hated being teased. I hated being tricked. And I had plenty of experience handling bullies who liked to do that stuff to me. Percy hefted the shield on his arm and turned to us friends. "We need to have a little talk with Ares."
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@gayer-than-the-gayest-gay @the-natureofme @booknerd-3000 @katara720 @ynfics
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sp00ks-odyssey · 4 years
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Gangster/Mafia Fresh Sans (Cross between Fresh Sans and Mafia Sans)
(NOT A SHIP CHILD!! AND NO RELATION TO THE ORIGINAL FRESH AND MAFIA SANS!!)
Name: StarkFresh
Also known as: MobFresh, BloodStain or FreshMafia (For AU titles)
Nickname: B.S 
Age: 24
Birthday: June 5th 
Year of birth: Unknown
Species: Mafia/90s Skeleton
Gender: Male
Height: 7ft 8
Voice: I'm thinking a lazy Tenor
Quotes by StarkFresh: 
"Shinizzle" 
"Let's Boogie" 
"Histile pistol baby"
(reasons for these quotes/why he says them is unknown)
Likes: 
Sleeping,
Watching Old Detective TV shows,
Hanging out with his pet.
Fav food/drinks: 
Churros, 
Doritos, 
Oreos, 
Butterscotch Soda,
Root-Beer,
Cream Soda.
Personality: 
Lazy, 
Scary at times,
Major Flirt,
Chill.
StarkFresh's Looks:
Head/Skull:
He has an all white Classic Sans skull,
A little bit of chub on cheek bones like original Mafia Sans.
Face:
His mouth is always open in an opened-fanged smile, 
He does not do the Classic Sans perma-smile,
His teeth and top canines are shown,
One of his bottom teeth is missing leaving a gap,
He has a half purple half dark blue tongue,
Both of his eye sockets are neon green,
His pupils are dark blue oval shaped in both eye sockets,
Inside of his nose bone glows orange all the time.
Body:
His bone are all white, (No other color)
He has Thick/chubby bones (Like original Mafia).
Legs:
He has short thick legs.
His legs are also white bones, (No other color)
He has a bit of chub/thickness in his legs as well,
(The rest of him should be like any other Sans, white bony feet, white bony arms, white boney fingers, etc)
Clothing: 
He wears a Purple and red fedora, 
A Neon bow-tie,
Pink overalls, 
A white long sleeved tuxedo with a left breast pocket in the front,
Some red fancy mafia dress shoes with wheels (NOT HEELYS THOUGH)
A black trench coat, 
Some black jeans,
And normal brown sun-glasses/shades with no words written on the lenses. 
Appearance:
His black trench coat goes all the way down his form and a little ways past his knees,
He does not wear pants when wearing the trench coat, (such a flirt XD)
If he does not have his trench coat on he wears black jeans,
His pink overalls go over his white tux,
If he doesn't have his shoes on he walks around in black fuzzy socks.
Weapons/Abilities: 
A brown wooden baseball bat, 
Green magic,
Both eyes can flame up while using magic, 
He can't teleport.
(more tba)
Accessories: 
A Silver Pocket Watch: 
It is always in his front left pocket of his white tux, 
A black chain is attached to it,
The outside of the watch says GHETTO on it in dark blue lowercase writing, 
Inside has a floating, cracked upside-down white soul in it leaking white blood, 
He never opens the watch cause he wants no one to see the soul or let the blood pool out,
It really doesn't have the time.
A Dark Blue Pipe: 
No tobacco or smoke, "That's Un-cool for the Rad-Mafia"
He blows bubbles out of it instead,
He rarely uses the pipe though, 
It stays in his trench coat pocket.
His Pet:  A furby-dog
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pastchased · 4 years
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ANIMALS  :  lion  ,  dog COLORS  :   yellow  ,  gold  ,  green  ,  black ASTROLOGICAL SIGN  :   gemini MONTHS  :   april  ,  june  ,  july SONGS  :   war crimes  /  waterparks  ,  playground  /   unlike pluto  ,  novacaine  /  fall out boy   ,  where did the party go   /   fall out boy  ,  thanks for the memories  /  fall out boy  ,  gasoline  /   halsey  ,  the boy in the bubble  /  alec benjamin  ,  doubt  /   twenty one pilots  ,  +  200 more NUMBERS  :  5  ,  6  ,  16 DAY OR NIGHT  :  mornings   &   late nights PLANTS  :   sunflowers  SMELLS  :   fresh laundry  ,  hair dye  ,  blood  ,  sweat  ,  tears  ,  the city SEASON  :   summer FOODS  :   russia sushi  ,  fast food  ,   junk food  ,  anything he puts in a bento DRINK  :   orange soda  ,  various sodas  ,  juice ELEMENTS :   earth  ,  air
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freakypanther · 5 years
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Fixing a hole.
There’s an inch of fat on my upper inner thighs that wasn’t there a month ago. I’ve had a little jones for pad thai. I’ve been eating it in amounts that are way beyond what’s advisable throughout all of June and some of July. I now affectionately refer to my legs as  “pad thighs” (hold for applause). It’s more than just a craving though, it’s a hunger. I often find that consumption is my answer to confusion—not always in the form of noodles. I get that itch and I try to run it off, drink it off, sex it off, travel it off, shop it off, sing, bike, sweat and surf it away- pick your poison. Rather, pick mine. 
I have all this energy. All this crazy fizz that’s shook up in me like a glass Coke bottle. I think it’s been there for as long as I can remember. This fear in me that I am too much, too fat, too crazy, too pointy, too big, too small, too emotional, too embarrassing, not smart enough, not beautiful enough, not interesting enough, not good enough, doing it wrong, upsetting everyone, ruining everything. Those are hard things to hear that you think about yourself, even harder to write them down. And they’re hard things to keep bottled up. No matter how tightly you try to contain them, they never really go away. They greet you every morning, and sleep with you every night. They doubt everything good that ever happens to you, and say “I told you so” in the midst of something bad.
So for a very long time I just put the Coke bottle in the back of the fridge. Hell, I don’t even think there was a fridge. It was in a shoebox, in the back of a pantry, in the corner of a garage, in a house I didn’t live in anymore. And if anyone ever asked about bottles or soda or sugar or fizz I said “What do you mean?” and I walked down the street every day and said “I”m fine—let’s talk about YOU, or THAT, or HIM.” And I smiled in a way that said I’m so so so great. And stepped in a way that said, check this shit out. And on some level, I was great. It was a pretty good system.
And I did all the things. And I went to all the therapists. And meditated all the meditations. And got all the money. And controlled all the narratives. And kept all the secrets. And held it all together. And fixed all the problems. And entertained all the people. And bothered no one. And most importantly kept my mouth shut —because I knew that nobody could argue with that, and consequently everyone would love me. And everybody did. And I was happy. And life was good. 
And then one day without warning, someone I hardly knew looked at me in the eyeballs and casually said “So what’s the deal with that Coke bottle?” and I froze. 
Because for all my whining, and pining, and dining, and doing, and going and growing, and working, and improving, and being the best, the first, the most, the only—I still couldn’t beleive or accept the existence of a girl I had shoved in the back of a fridge, and left alone to deal with whatever problems she was causing for simply existing. 
In fact, I had buried her so deep, for so long, I wasn’t even really sure I knew her anymore. So I sat in that stew, and confused myself over and over. And I called out to her, and ordered a lot of pad thai. And took a lot of personality tests. In case you’re wondering, I’m an INFP. I’m an enneagram 4 wing 3. Aries sun. Leo moon. Cancer rising. Fire rabbit. My blood type is AB positive. My aura is crystal, magenta, orange, and red. My akashic records are “chill”. My life line is very pronounced. I’m choleric, rather than sanguine. I’m a carrie. I’m a 90′s kid. And my ancestry is 100% all over the place. 
But none of it mattered. And I shouted “Jesus! Who even are you!?” And she said “Pshhhh. Please...don’t act like you don’t know.” 
I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. I’m intense and exciting. Playful, sexual, and powerful. Creative, intelligent, deep and wide. Confident, charismatic and independent. Intuitive, ferocious, and made to move. I am not an island, but you like to pretend that I am. I work hard, but I could work better if you were nice to me. I’m patient, especially with you. I’ll try anything once. I’m excited by possibility. I think most things are possible. I see myself in everyone, it’s easy for me to connect. I’m good in a kitchen, and behind a camera. I have a way with words and instruments. I love strange things. Odd things. Old things. Quirky things. Magic, Mississippi, and marbled tomatoes. Art made by adults that looks like it was made by kids. Summer rain and slide guitar. Etta James and the East River. Blood oranges and my bare feet out as much as possible.
And I said, Okay. “Well what the hell do you want from me?”
Then she leaned in and whispered “Bitch—let. me. out. of. this. mother. fucking. bottle.”
So for the millionth time in my life I have an extra inch of fat on my thighs that I’ll spend a month working off. But for the first time in my life, I don’t consider myself garbage because of it. And that’s the best way I can think to describe my summer so far. And if you don’t get it—well, for the first time I don’t really give a damn. 
J
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MER Week Day 2 - Memories
Summary: What happens during shore leaves stay on shore leave. And your skin if you’re drunk and/or spiteful enough. After enough soda to kill a horse, sometimes the dumbest ideas are the best ones. 
(Just a short one, I’m not feeling too well)
---
Alistair Shepard, 23:57: Please kill me.
Alistair Shepard, 23:59: I've drank my weight in Sprite and they tried to get me a lap dance.
Alistair Shepard, 00:10: I left, they're going somewhere dumb. Meet me at that coffee place?
Fucking finally.
Bo sighed in relief as she left the loud noises and annoying people of the club behind her. The door next to her proclaimed it to be ladies night and that certain acts would be performing right when she should have been inside. Instead, out she went, feeling like she was sloshing around from large quantities of orange soda and regret.
Really, it wasn't as if she hated shore leave. She enjoyed it as much as any marine did, she supposed. It was more being dragged to watch men in not much clothing remove more of it that had garnered her distaste. That and the fact the only good looking girls were probably at the club Alistair had been suffering in.
They should've just swapped places but nobody had asked.
At least the coffee shop was quiet given the time of night. There were only a few people of various species in there, quiet and not bothering anyone. She stopped off at the counter for something other than orange soda and looked around in order to find her friend.
“Over here.”
Alistair waved her over from his spot by the window. He was picking quietly from a half eaten doughnut, his fingers covered in icing. From the looks of it, it had been some low blood sugar munchies that had come a calling.  Amazing, considering he probably drank just as much soda as she did.
Bo slid in, head still pounding a little. “Enjoy the lap dance?”
Alistair's cheeks turned red as he looked down towards his doughnut. “Very funny. I politely declined. She was more your type than mine.”
Damn, of course.
“You would've liked the one guy they had one stage. He was this Salarian guy who really knew how to work whatever they have down there.” She picked at her ear. “Or at least that's what Jones screamed in my ear before I left.”
Hopefully she got that hearing back soon.
Both marines quietly picked at their late night snacks, staring out the window as they did. Outside, there was a lot of people like them: soldiers on shore leave, trying to get some fun out before they had to go back to their ships and the great darkness of space. Most of them were heading for the local bars, and in the morning they would be hung over as shit with hopefully only photos and hangovers to remind them of their night. For others... well, that wasn't their problem.
Bo took a piece of Alistair's doughnut and munched on it before she spoke. “So, where was the idiot trio heading that you didn't want to go? Another strip club?”
She had passed one advertising some great new act that had honestly piqued her interest for all of two seconds. The population of goers was pretty much male and horny, so that had killed any chance of her actually going in. Besides, you know, not really big on people. That was a thing too.
Her friend snorted as he took some of her doughnut in revenge for her thievery. “No, they mentioned something about wanting to have a permanent reminder of our last tour. Hopefully they spell it right.”
Ah, yes. Bo had seen plenty of shore leave tattoos already. Not many of them were even halfway decent, and those were the ones done sober. The rest... well, the less said about them the better. Bad was putting it mildly.
Still... her eyes drew to the clock on the wall behind Alistair's head. It was currently set  to 00:34 local time. A quick glance at her omni-tool told her that it had just rolled over to June 1st if she was counting right. Who knows what that would be on Earth.
Didn't matter, it was June.
“Not a bad idea, actually.”
Alistair almost spit out his drink. “Excuse me?”
Bo popped another piece of doughnut in her mouth. “Getting a tattoo, I mean. Look what day it is.”
She turned her wrist towards the other marine and it took him a few seconds to read it thanks to his missing eye. Still, the details slowly started to piece together in his mind like it had in hers, and they would hopefully reach the same conclusion.
“You want to get something for Pride?”
Bingo. Bo allowed a rare grin as she took her wrist back to finish her snack off. “Maybe it'll remind people not to take us to the wrong strip clubs?”
It was fun to watch the gears work. Alistair didn't answer for a while. Instead, he kept munching at his doughnut as if it might give him the answers to the universe. Once it was gone, all he had left to do was give his answer.
Please say yes, please say yes, please say...
“You know what? Fuck it, I'm in.”
Bo beamed just this once. “Excellent. Let's go.”
And both stood at the same time, getting ready to throw their trash out and leave for the night's misadventures. However, as things so often go, a similar expression rolled over both their faces, brought on by their earlier stops. Eyes rolled around the coffee shop before settling on their goal.
“Bathroom break.”
It was a mad dash to the finish, brute force matched against speedy flexibility. In the end, Bo grumbled as she waited for Alistair to finish in the shop's only bathroom, annoyed and yet somehow enjoying herself as she stood there, arms crossed and looks ready to kill.
Maybe she wouldn't remember the night in the years to come, but this? Something about all this dumb shit would stick.
And, hopefully, they would kick everyone else's asses in the morning when it came to tattoos. After all, it was only fair to win during Pride.
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craftcoffee · 6 years
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Our Single-Origin Coffee Program
Each month we feature one stunning, light-roasted single origin coffee via our coffee subscription program. With our new four-bag coffee subscriptions, you can get these beans at the unbeatable price of $12.99 per 12oz bag ($1.08/oz), with free shipping and no tax! 
Here’s the stellar Colombian coffee we’re roasting through April 13...
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These are coffees that retail for $19.99 with our individual-bag coffee subscriptions, and you’d typically need to pay at least $20 ($1.67/oz) to get coffee of this quality and style anywhere else. So at $12.99 per 12oz bag, we’re really excited to make it easier than ever to drink truly amazing coffee at super low prices.
At these low prices, it’s hard to know exactly what kind of quality we’re talking about here, so we want to walk you through how we source these coffees; because you won’t believe it...
HOW WE SOURCE COFFEE
In order to source coffees at this quality level, we work very closely with a small group of importing partners who have traveled the world for years (often decades) building relationships with farmers and coffee growing communities.
We pay 3x to 4x fair trade prices for our single origin coffees, so they are on a different level.
Our single-origin coffees are often such small microlots that perhaps only 500 to 1,500 lbs are available in the US. We often contract for these coffees many months in advance of their arrival in the US, so that we can lock them in for you -- because they'll sell out before they even arrive.
Sampling
Our importing partners regularly provide us with small samples of the best lots, typically 200 grams. We "sample roast" dozens of coffees every month in our Brooklyn office. Then we brew them to evaluate each coffee for quality and character.
All the coffees we consider for our single origin offering are super clean and sweet, so that's necessary but not enough. What we look for in these coffees is a distinctive character -- that special something that makes us wake up the next morning excited to brew another cup.
Profiling
When we find a coffee we love from the sampling process, we purchase it immediately. Then, the next challenge is determining how we'll roast it for you. The goal is to bring out each coffee's best expression of itself. This process is called "profiling" -- it's a mix of art and science.
Our importers will ship us 1 kg of the coffee we purchased, and we'll roast four different "profile roasts" of about 200 grams each, trying different variations with each roast to see what we can pull out of the bean. How can we focus the distinctive characteristics and deliciousness that made us decide to buy this coffee? That's the profiling challenge.
To assess each profile, we brew each one for the better part of a week. During profiling weeks, our profile roasts are often the only coffee we'll drink all week. We get to know it inside and out.
Production Roasting
The results of the profiling process lead us to decide how to approach roasting the coffee for you in production. We work very hard to replicate our chosen profile in your production roasts.
Our quality control process includes brewing every batch we roast, and we also use technological tools to analyze each batch against our profiling targets. We tweak and adjust our single origins as needed to make sure they're always delicious.
SINGLE ORIGIN COFFEES WE SHIPPED OVER THE PAST TWELVE MONTHS
We source these seasonal coffees as fresh crops arrive in the United States. Around April/May the best Ethiopian, Kenyan and Guatemalan coffees start arriving in the US, and we fill our menu with those coffees. Then we see the best Colombian, Peruvian and Rwandan coffees starting to arrive in the US around September/October, and we feature the best of those origins. Other promising origins you might see on our menu in the future include Honduras and Burundi.
If you had found us a year ago, this is what your last year of coffee would have looked like ...
March 2018 - Cusco, Peru A sugary sweetness is balanced by a distinctive pink lady apple flavor. Notes of caramel and baking spice highlight the creamy body.
February 2018 - Kercha Woreda, Guji, Ethiopia A sweet, juicy cup with flavors of mango, butter cookie, sweet almond, perfumed florals and hints of cantaloupe and chocolate malt in the cooling cup.
January 2018 - Nyeri, Kenya Sugary fruit aromas welcome a vibrant, sweet and complex cup with a pink lemonade acidity balanced by a deep, starchy sweetness. Flavors of blueberry and melon linger through the sweet, bright finish.
December 2017 - Agaro Region, Jimma, Ethiopia A clean and sugary sweet cup with flavors of watermelon and sweet tea. Every cup left us wanting more.
November 2017 - Kibirizi, Nyamagabe, Rwanda Sweet, spicy and citrusy aromas welcome this dynamic cup with a distinctive lime soda acidity balanced by a starchy, butter cookie sweetness. Juicy honeydew and sweet spice in the cooling cup.
October 2017 - Santa Barbara, Huehuetenango, Guatemala Aromas of cooked berries and brown sugar introduce this flavorful and sugary cup. A refined white grapefruit acidity provides structure, supporting notes of strawberry, tart plum, lemon verbena, caramel and clove.
September 2017 - Kericho County, Kenya Malty, sweet aromas welcome a bright, sweet and juicy cup with a mixed citrus acidity of limes, oranges and lemons, flavors of plums and red fruit and a sweet chocolatey finish.
August 2017 - Aleta Wondo, Sidamo, Ethiopia Aromas of stone fruit and sweet tea introduce this sugary sweet cup with flavors of cooked stone fruit reminiscent of peach cobbler. Highlights of blood orange and red apple emerge in the cooling cup that ends with a deep caramelly sweetness.
July 2017 - Chimaltenango, Guatemala Sweet, juicy and clean with flavors of purple grape highlighted by a lime acidity that mingles with sweet spice notes to create a cola-like experience. As it cools, its sugary base flows between malty milk chocolate, nougat, and a cookie-like sweetness.
June 2017 - Keffa Zone, Bita Genet District, Ethiopia Melon aromas welcome a juicy cup with a delicious cantaloupe flavor that intermingles with delicate florals. Very nice clarity and structure through the end of this syrupy, sweet cup.
May 2017 - Gera Woreda, Agaro Region, Jimma, Ethiopia Sweet, tart flavors reminiscent of orange marmalade and lemon candy welcome a complex cup that evolves as it cools into flavors of passionfruit and then creamy tropical fruit flavors like soursop. The cup finishes sweet, creamy and bright.
April 2017 - Incahuasi, Cusco, Peru A sweet, creamy body with malty flavors combine with an orange acidity for a creamsicle experience. As it cools, some of our brews remained deliciously consistent, while others evolved into the flavors and mouthfeel of a European-style hot chocolate highlighted by caramelized hazelnut notes. Either way, creamy and sweet til the last drops.
Whew, a lot goes into sourcing the world’s most incredible coffees for you. Coffee at this quality doesn’t come easy, but now with our bulk coffee subscriptions you can get this amazing coffee for less money. 
So if you want get started with our single origin coffees for only $12.99 per 12oz bag, try it out today with a four-bag coffee subscriptions. You can mix & match with some other blends too, starting at just $6.99! 
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blatherkatt · 7 years
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Title: The Calm Is Terrifying When The Storm Is All You Know [Homestuck]
Chapter 21: Ambiguity 
Summary: There were two kinds of trolls who went to Earth: rich shitheads with too much money and free time, and desperate assholes who couldn’t survive on Alternia, even with the best efforts of the young Condesce. Karkat hated the planet almost immediately, but with his home planet too dangerous for mutants, he really didn’t have any choice but to hide out on this weird little diurnal planet. At least he’d be safe. Or so he thought, right before blundering his way into an accidental friendship with the son of an anti-troll terrorist.
Rating: M
Chapter Warnings: Mentioned/implied abuse, arguably disordered eating/you know how Dave hides food? yeah that; Pesterlogs 
FIRST | PREVIOUS | NEXT
gutsyGumshoe [GG] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT] at 10:28 PM 07/06/2015  
GG: Good grief, I thought Roxy was exagerating about how late you stay up! Isn’t it past midnight at your house?
TT: I mean, yeah, but this is nothing.
TT: Was up til four yesterday. Ain’t no thing.
GG: >:B
TT: Not my fault there’s not enough hours in the day.
TT: I got shit to do. Robots to build, commissions to draw, asses to kick.
TT: Whole big schedule to sort through on the daily.
GG: Might one even say that you have some irons in the fire?
TT: Got so many burning irons, you’d think I’m a blacksmith.
TT: Enough swords, too, so really it’s
TT: Shit, hold on.
GG: ?
TT: God dammit.
TT: Be right back. Gotta deal with something. Ugh.
GG: Uh oh. It’s not a repeat of what happened last month, is it?
TT: Sorry about that. No, it turned out to be nothing.
TT: Again.
GG: Well, that’s a relief, I suppose.
GG: Um, what did you have to deal with, though?
TT: God, uh. Let me think.
TT: About a week or so after that bullshit last month went down, Dave heard a raccoon in the garage, and thought it might be someone trying to take him away again.
GG: Oh, goodness!
TT: No big deal, right? False alarm, everyone freaks out at first but it’s just something totally normal for out here.
GG: I remember you mentioning an adventure with one in your room last year, right?
GG: Roxy chronicled the whole event with photos from her cell phone.
TT: Yep.
TT: The thing with this is, though, that Dave keeps hearing things.
TT: That raccoon is so far the only time it’s actually been another living thing.
TT: A couple times, it was a fucking tree branch banging against a window. Most of the time it’s literally nothing.
TT: But he freaks out at the slightest noise from outside, and, well,
TT: I’m glad he’s telling us, at least?
TT: But.
GG: How often has this been happening?
TT: This was the third time this week. So, you know, pretty frequently. Always at night, so Mom can’t deal with it, because she doesn’t wake up easy.
GG: Shucks, Dirk, I’m sorry. That does sound like something of a hassle.
GG: Maybe you could ask Dave to try and be a bit brave?
TT: Can’t risk it.
TT: The old man’s quiet as hell. What if the one time I don’t check, it is him?
TT: I’d never forgive myself.
TT: Still, it’s frustrating. Especially because Dave won’t actually come down to my room himself.
GG: He won’t?
TT: No. He wakes up Rose and has her do it, so she’s always in a bad mood, too, but neither of us has any desire to take it out on Dave.
TT: It’s not his fault he’s scared of his own shadow.
TT: Fuck, if this keeps up, I’m gonna just build a bunch of security cameras and…
TT: Shit, no, that won’t work, Dave’s not allowed to use phones or computers. He’d still need someone else to check the feed for him. God dammit.
TT: Fucking house arrest bullshit.
GG: Hm.
GG: I’m…a bit loathe to suggest, this, but…
GG: You don’t suppose he’s jumpy because he’s hiding something again, do you?
TT: I mean, that’s a reasonable worry.
TT: He’s been talking to Rose a lot more, though, and he really did seem like he regretted what happened back in June.
TT: I think this is genuine paranoia, unfortunately.
GG: Gosh.
GG: I wish there was some way I could help, but I’m drawing a blank.
TT: Don’t sweat it, I mostly just needed to vent.
TT: Shit is ten kinds of stressful.
GG: I bet!
Karkat had no doubt about it now: Kanaya was up to something.
For the past week or so, he’d kept catching her speaking in hushed tones over her palm husk, usually visibly excited, but when he’d asked her what was up, she’d just grinned and informed him that it was “a surprise.” On the one hand, it was probably something totally harmless. On the other, Karkat knew his friends pretty well and he didn’t trust any of them with any ‘surprises’. Terezi’s idea of a ‘surprise’ had once resulted in him literally hanging upside down from her tree hive back on Alternia, one ankle snared in a rope. He didn’t even remember how things had lead to that, just that one moment she’d told him to come over to her house, and the next, hello, why is the world the wrong way up, what the fuck is this hoofbeast shit.
So, yeah, he was kind of wary, especially when Kanaya had asked that he and Rose (Dave ended up tagging along, too, out of curiosity) wait downstairs in the main room.
“Well?” Kanaya said, grinning widely as she stepped off the stairs.
It took Karkat a long moment to realize what had changed, but when he did, his jaw dropped.
“Holy shit, you’re not glowing!” he said, and heard a muffled “oh, fuck” from Dave next to him.
“How…?” Rose said, standing up.
“Turns out,” Kanaya said, “I did already actually know another rainbow drinker, who has been one far longer than I have, and she actually, you know, knows how it works. And she was able to teach me how to turn the glowing off, so!”
“So it’s not permanently gone, or anything?” Rose said. “I’d grown to like it so much, I’d hate to think you’d lost your spark so soon.”
Kanaya giggled over a pair of groans from Karkat and Dave. “Personally, I’m just glad someone finally shone a light on the ins and outs of this whole busine-”
Before Karkat could rightfully shout at the girls for the egregious punnage, a loud crashing noise from the basement made all four of them jump.
“What the fuck?!” Karkat yelped.
“Everything’s fine,” came a very muffled shout from Dirk. Rose darkly grumbled something about how Dirk was “going to set the house on fire one of these days if he wasn’t careful,” and just after she did, something even more surprising happened.
Dave, of all people, started laughing.
Karkat had heard Dave almost-laugh once or twice, but this was bordering on hysterics. He was doubled over on the couch, shaking with one of the most joyful sounds the troll had ever heard, if not a particularly attractive one. It was definitely an ugly laugh, and yet, a deeply contagious one, and Karkat had to fight to keep the corners of his mouth from curling up. (Especially because, even if he wasn’t sure what the joke was, seeing Dave this happy was doing things he didn’t want to admit to his blood pusher. Stupid pale crush, ugh.)  
“What on Earth is so funny?” Rose asked, visibly fighting a smile of her own.
Dave tried to answer a few times, failed, and just pointed at Kanaya, who had…apparently started glowing again.
Looking at her hands, she sighed, and said, “Oh, damn it. Maybe I don’t have as much control as I had hoped, hm…”
Wheezing for breath, Dave finally managed to choke out, “She’s — fucking, hahhaha, holy shit, she’s a — she’s a fucking clapper!”
Rose’s hand flew to her mouth to stifle a snort as Dave curled into a ball under another wave of laughter. “Dave,” she said, her own shoulders shaking, now, “that’s mean!”
“A what now?” Karkat said.
“There’s — God dammit, Dave, stop laughing — there’s a, a device, a sound-activated light switch, basically, that allows you to clap twice to turn the lights on or off,” Rose sputtered. Her request seemed to only spur Dave on more.
“That’s…why?” Karkat said.
“I don’t know,” Rose heaved.
“Oh, well,” Kanaya said, “He’s not exactly wrong, in that case.” She clapped her hands twice and the glow turned off, and everyone absolutely lost it, Karkat included. Kanaya had just looked so fucking proud of herself as she did it, God damn it —
“I mean, that’s not how it actually works,” Kanaya said, in between helpless giggles, “But I — the punchline was right there, I had to!”
Dave fell off the couch, actually fucking wheezing.
And then, he stopped, suddenly sitting up straight, staring at the kitchen. Karkat composed himself as best he could, and followed Dave’s gaze.
Dirk was standing by the fridge, a freshly opened bottle of orange soda in hand, silently watching. Noticing that he was now the center of attention, he shrugged, and said, “Well, don’t stop having fun on my account.”
Dave swallowed hard enough for Karkat to hear.
“I was just about to go down and check on you,” said Rose, folding her arms and turning towards him. Judging by the hints of laughter still sparkling in her eyes, she hadn’t noticed how rigid Dave had gone. “What are you doing down there?”
“Nothing unusual,” said Dirk. “Just dropped something, is all.”
“What, an entire train? A beam of the house? Dirk.”
“It’s fine, Rose, really,” he said, taking a sip of his soda.
“‘M gonna go,” Dave mumbled to Karkat, and slipped away before he could respond. The next sound anyone heard was that of the door to his block clicking shut.
Dirk frowned. “Aaaand there he goes,” he muttered. “Should’ve waited to open the fuckin’ soda til I was downstairs, I guess. Jesus.” He, too, departed, albeit at a reasonable pace. The room was left with the very air feeling heavy, an awkwardness settling in almost painfully.
Rose broke the silence, thank fuck. “I’ve had just about enough of this,” she said. “Kanaya, I’m sorry my brothers ruined what was supposed to be your moment of triumph, I really am happy for you.”
“It’s alright,” Kanaya said, nervous.
Somehow, Karkat wasn’t so sure.
There wasn’t much Dave remembered about living here before. One of the things that had always stuck out, though, was this…this presence, a presence with a face attached to it that Dave had eventually figured out was Dirk, and it was a thing that had always given him a sense of safety when he was little. Like, whatever he was doing, playing in the woods or what the fuck ever, if that sort of shadow was somewhere in the background, everything was okay, he was safe and could just keep doing whatever.
Dave sure as shit didn’t get that feeling off of Dirk now.
He wasn’t sure what had changed over the years he’d been gone, but now when the guy was around, the only sense he got was one of danger. Which was stupid, and he knew it. Dirk had literally done nothing to him, he had no reason to think that he was going to, and Rose had made it pretty fuckin’ clear that this wasn’t a house that was prone to ambush-based training or really any sort of fight practice that wasn’t fully voluntary. And also, he was still under house arrest and couldn’t use a sword anyway, so there was that too. Still…
There was just…something about his face, about the slope of his eyebrows when he was frustrated and the way he held his shoulders, about the way he’d breathe in real slow while visibly pissed off (or maybe he was just frustrated? God, he was so fucking hard to read), something that set off every internal alarm bell Dave had, bellowing an internal ‘GET THE FUCK OUT’ at the most obnoxious pitch and volume ever. He’d be sitting there like, geez, did we really have to do a fire drill today? It’s fuckin’ raining outside, come on! But nope, every time Dirk came in, there they go, the twitchy-ass wailin’ sirens shoutin’ at him to evacuate.
And, if Dave was honest with himself, the knowledge that Dirk probably wasn’t gonna hurt him sort of made everything worse. Because if this wasn’t all the long-term build up to a sword fight on the roof, then why the fuck was he…Why was he being so weird?
Weird in ways that were familiar enough, mind. Showing up at weird moments, sometimes giving off the danger vibe more than usual, and yet sometimes acting almost out of character —Bro did that sorta shit all the time, and Dave knew what the idea was there. It was just mind games. Probably to keep Dave on his toes and ready for anything, teach him to be suspicious or whatever. Sometimes the games had a specific goal and usually Dave could figure out what that was. But with Dirk? He had no fucking idea.
Especially since the most out of character shit seemed to happen when Dirk was actually pissed at him — like that time with the cat on the roof, how he’d been so fuckin’ gentle even while practically scowling (well. He’d looked mildly irritated, but. Same thing, right?). Or how about that fuckin’ fiasco back with the botched rescue attempt? He’d obviously been angry, he and Rose had nearly gone for each other’s jugulars right there in the fuckin’ kitchen! But he’d never directed anything worse than a fuckin’ heavy sigh at Dave, so what the fuck? Same with the fuckin’ sounds he kept hearing at night — every time another one happened, Dirk reacted a little less serious and a little more annoyed (and…yeah. That was fair. Dave wasn’t sure why he was so jumpy, lately, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched, somehow. Eyes burning holes in his back, and he couldn’t shake them, no matter where he went), but every few times he’d say that same thing again, that he’d rather go check on a false alarm than have Dave not try and give them a warning. And he’d say it that same way, too — his eyes serious and fuckin’ scary intense, but his voice soft, like he was talkin’ to a crying toddler. Dave couldn’t figure out what to make of it.
Part of him…that little whispery part that was always so contrary about this shit, the same one that had talked himself into admitting what was going on back in June, kept hoping that maybe Dave was misinterpreting shit, that the gentleness and the nice shit was genuine, but. He couldn’t buy it. Not whenever Dirk was in the room, being stoic and unreadable and fuckin’ scary.
Another part of him, one that had been steadily growing bolder ever since it had really sunk in that no one was gonna hit him, but had existed for longer than Dave had realized it was there, wanted him to fight back. Fuckin’ puff himself up and snap at Dirk, get him to either back off or push him over the edge to strike out — whatever it took to get rid of the terrifying goddamn ambiguity of this whole mess.
What held him back from acting on that bit, for now, was the memory of that fight between Dirk and Rose. That had been some scary shit, and it’d just burst in out of nowhere. One minute, all’s quiet, and the next, Dirk was fuckin’ lunging at Rose like a man on a mission. A death mission. Fuckin’ hell.
Dave didn’t want that. He really didn’t want it to come to that. The thought of having to fight Dirk, armed or no, made his gut twist and contort itself into all sorts of fucked up shapes.
But then again, so did the not knowing.
Something was gonna give, and Dave wasn’t sure he wanted to be around when it did.
The next time Rose saw her eldest brother was  once again in the kitchen, this time with an expression of suspicious confusion etched on his face. He was looking intently in the pantry, finger tapping out an agitated tune against the counter.
“That’s certainly a severe expression to fix on a bunch of innocent food. Are you having a fight with the ramen noodles?” Rose said, crossing her arms.
Dirk flicked an eye over to her, back to the pantry, and then leaned back. “Be a little tricky to have a fight with something that isn’t there,” he said. “Which is more my actual problem.”
“What?” Rose said, stepping over to the pantry herself. “But you just went to the store three days ago. I saw you bring in enough cup noodles to last you a good two weeks.” Yet, as she stood next to him, she could see for herself that he was right — there was just one left.
“Karkat’s been at them, for sure,” Dirk said, “But I don’t think that’s enough to account for them disappearing so fast. Have Dave or Kanaya been eating any, do you know?”
Rose thought for a long moment. “Kanaya tried them once,” she said, “but I don’t know that she cared for them much. As for Dave, I…” She frowned. “Actually, I don’t know that I’ve seen him eat anything in quite some time. Normally, he just takes food and retreats to his room.” She sighed. “Well, it probably is him, though. It’s what makes the most sense, unless our mother’s suddenly picked up a taste for them, which I doubt.”
“It’s not just cup noodles, though,” Dirk said. “That’s not that big of a deal. There’s other food that’s been disappearing. A whole packet of crackers disappeared last night, along with a half-full jar of peanut butter.”
“That’s…strange, sure,” said Rose, “But I doubt it’s anything serious.”
“That’s because you’re not in charge of groceries,” Dirk said. “I am, and I don’t like that things are disappearing almost as fast as I can buy them.”
“So buy more,” Rose said, exasperated. “We’re not exactly on a tight budget, here.”
“Hmph,” Dirk grunted, closing the pantry.
That really should have been the end of things, but things were never simple with Dirk. The mystery was solved that evening, as it turned out. While in her room with Kanaya, Rose heard a soft yelp from the kitchen. Flicking a worried glance to Kanaya, she stood, leaving her room just enough to get a glimpse of what was going on downstairs.
Dave was in the slightly-hunched, deeply tense pose she’d learned to recognize as his version of cowering, a bag of chips that she knew to be about a quarter full held half-hidden behind his back. Dirk was standing near him — dangerously close to cornering him, actually. He probably didn’t mean to do so, but Dave was already on edge, that much was clear.
Dirk calmly reached into a cabinet, and pulled out a small bowl, handing it to Dave. “You know,” he said, “you can just use one of these, and that way there’s enough for everyone —”
Something in Dave seemed to snap. His voice was terse and defensive, almost frantic, as he answered, “I know, okay?! I know it’s stupid and weird and — I can’t explain why, I know there’s plenty of food here, thank fuck for that because I don’t know where I’d get it on my own, but if I — if I don’t have enough stashed away, I wake up in the middle of the night in a cold fucking sweat, and it doesn’t matter how much I tell myself everything’s gonna be fine, I can’t turn it off, okay?”
It was almost uplifting to watch, in a way, as he seemed to puff himself up and half-spit his response — not great in terms of making amends, perhaps, but she’d learned to recognize her brother’s fear responses well enough to realize that he was standing up for himself, defending himself against the one person in the house he still found frightening, and even as she found herself saddened by his actual words, she was proud of him for having the courage to say them.
Dirk seemed thunderstruck. He was silent for a long moment, and in that moment, that rush of courage seemed to drain right out of Dave. His stance slipped back into a cower, as he mumbled an even more frantic, stuttery apology, promising to put the food back, that it wasn’t actually a big deal, he was fine —
“No, it’s — it’s okay, you can have it,” Dirk said. “I didn’t realize…It’s not that big of a deal, I’ve just. Been wondering where some of the food’s been disappearing to so fast. None of what you’ve taken needs to be in the fridge, so you’re…fine.”
Dave mumbled another sorry. Dirk didn’t answer, suddenly unable to meet Dave’s gaze. Rose didn’t wait to see if the conversation would continue; Dave looked enough like he was about to bolt for her to duck back into her own room. Moments later, she heard the Dave’s door slam shut.
“What was…” Kanaya started. Rose had already pulled out her phone.
“I’m texting Roxy,” Rose announced. “I’ve had about enough of this. She’s wrangled Dirk’s stubborn ego into cooperation before. If she can’t find a way to fix this, no one can.”
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Rules: Repost and fill in the answers you most associate your character with to each question. 
 I’m gonna tag @blogteas, @tinibellbeanie, @kalecgos, and @shimmerbee but everybody should do it, count this as a tag for everyone! ;)
Sula Adaar
1. ANIMAL: Dragons, bears
2. COLOR(S): Purple, red
3. MONTH: September
4. SONG(S): Goodnight My Someone, Being In Love, So This is Love, Candle on the Water, The Trolley Song, A Million Miles Away Behind the Door, That Would Be Enough, I Fall in Love Too Easily, When You Were Young
5. NUMBER: 4
6. DAY OR NIGHT: Sunrise and sunset
7. PLANT(S): Morning glories, (there's more)
8. SMELL(S): Cinnamon, salt air, rain (creosote), soft clean flower smells (jasmine?)
9. GEMSTONE: Gold, pearls, silver
10. SEASON: Fall and Spring
11. PLACE(S): Storm Coast, Wounded Coast, Kirkwall, The Free Marches
12. FOOD(S): Earthy flavors, sweets, soups, roots
13. ASTROLOGICAL SIGN: Sagittarius (I think Tenebrium, maybe Silentir?)
14. ELEMENT(S): Fire (negatively), earth
15. DRINK(S): does magic poison wisdom water count as a drink?
The rest of. everybody behind the cut!
Mariah Hawke
1. ANIMAL: Dragons,
2. COLOR(S): Red
3. MONTH: August
4. SONG(S): They Call the Wind Mariah, Kickdrum Heart, Die Young, Wandrin' Star, Overkill, Middle Distance Runner, Piano Man, Winter in My Heart, Born to Run
5. NUMBER: 6
6. DAY OR NIGHT: Day, like, noon.
7. PLANT(S): Hydrangeas, hibiscus
8. SMELL(S): Fireplace, carved wood, fresh tilled soil, sweat, that nice way a sunny summer day smells like
9. GEMSTONE: Ruby, Jasper
10. SEASON: Summer
11. PLACE(S): Wounded Coast, Kirkwall, Lothering, Roads
12. FOOD(S): Sandwiches, pizza(but that doesn't exist in thedas..), quick meals, jerky
13. ASTROLOGICAL SIGN: Aries (Kios and Eluvia on that dragon age astrology thing I think)
14. ELEMENT(S): Air, fire
15. DRINK(S): Water, beer, anything that can be carried in a flask
Setah Mahariel
1. ANIMAL: Hare, fox, sparrow hawk
2. COLOR(S): Green, brown, black, gray
3. MONTH: November
4. SONG(S): She Keeps Me Warm, History Has Its Eyes on You, Good Life, Shut Up and Dance With Me,
5. NUMBER: 8
6. DAY OR NIGHT: Evening
7. PLANT(S): Daisies 8. SMELL(S): Grass, pine, leather, the air just before it rains, clay
9. GEMSTONE: Emerald, bloodstone
10. SEASON: Fall
11. PLACE(S): Kicari Wilds, Forests,
12. FOOD(S): Mint, sunflower seeds, pumpkin, root vegetables, rabbit,
13. ASTROLOGICAL SIGN: Taurus I think (Equinor)
14. ELEMENT(S): Earth
15. DRINK(S): Cider
Mena Aeducan
1. ANIMAL: Blue birds, sparrows, doves
2. COLOR(S): Blue, silver, yellow
3. MONTH: January
4. SONG(S): I Get Along Without You Very Well, Good Life, Last Beautiful Girl
5. NUMBER: 2
6. DAY OR NIGHT: Night
7. PLANT(S): Lilies, carnations
8. SMELL(S): Perfumey things, lavender, jasmine, roses,
9. GEMSTONE: Diamond
10. SEASON: Winter
11. PLACE(S): Orzammar, Denerim, Ostagar, Kirkwall, Western Approach
12. FOOD(S): Fine dining, tarts, wine soaked mushrooms and vegetables, quail eggs
13. ASTROLOGICAL SIGN: Capricorn (Silentir)
14. ELEMENT(S): Water, air
15. DRINK(S): Wine
Fern
1. ANIMAL: Wolverine, badger
2. COLOR(S): Gray blue, brown, mud red, forest green
3. MONTH: June or October
4. SONG(S): ?? 5. NUMBER: 7
6. DAY OR NIGHT: Night
7. PLANT(S): ferns, weeds, dandelions, buttercups
8. SMELL(S): Smoke, sweat, blood, oil
9. GEMSTONE: Onyx, Quartz
10. SEASON: Fall
11. PLACE(S): Alley ways, side streets, Minrathos, Tevinter, Kal'Sharok, Orzammar, underground passageways, The Fade
12. FOOD(S): Bread, oats, stew, fish
13. ASTROLOGICAL SIGN: Scorpio (Satinalis)
14. ELEMENT(S): Fire, earth
15. DRINK(S): Ale
Tess Shepard
1. ANIMAL: Dog, condor, albatross
2. COLOR(S): Dark blue, red, black, silver, pastels
3. MONTH: April or February
4. SONG(S): Moondance, Blue Moon, Orion & Dog, Chateau Lobby # 4, I and Love and You
5. NUMBER: 6
6. DAY OR NIGHT: Night
7. PLANT(S): Forget-me-nots
8. SMELL(S): Steamy shower, gunpowder, sweat, pine
9. GEMSTONE: Opal
10. SEASON: Winter or Spring
11. PLACE(S): The Normandy, the Citadel, Vancouver, the Mako
12. FOOD(S): French fries, chips, pretzels with cheese dip, chili
13. ASTROLOGICAL SIGN: Aries
14. ELEMENT(S): Water or Space
15. DRINK(S): Coffee, vodka, beer
Dot Ryder
1. ANIMAL: Ferret, mouse, dog
2. COLOR(S): Orange, yellow, white
3. MONTH: June or July
4. SONG(S): Shut Up and Dance with Me, Wild Night, Mr. Blue Sky, Diane Young, Shake it Off, Blinded By the Light, Call Me Maybe, Fools Gold, Honor Amongst Thieves, Ghost
5. NUMBER: 9
6. DAY OR NIGHT: Day
7. PLANT(S): Strawberry, Orange blossoms, palm trees
8. SMELL(S): Orange, oil, sweat,
9. GEMSTONE: Pearl
10. SEASON: Summer
11. PLACE(S): Kadara, The Tempest, the Citadel, Elaaden
12. FOOD(S): Oranges, candy, noodles, popsicles
13. ASTROLOGICAL SIGN: Leo
14. ELEMENT(S): Fire, light
15. DRINK(S): Soda pop, syrupy drinks, fruity alcohol, vodka, cheap crap beer
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un-enfant-immature · 5 years
Text
New THC and CBD infused beverage company, Cann, joins the race to replace booze
Cann, a Los Angeles-based purveyor of CBD and THC-infused intoxicants, is rolling out its first major distribution through the venture-backed delivery service Eaze as it begins to hit the streets in California.
The company founded by two former Bain consultants is the latest to take on the growing market for non-alcoholic intoxicants that use a combination of chemicals traditionally found in the marijuana plant to make their drinks.
First dreamed up by Jake Bullock while attending business school at Stanford, Cann launched earlier this month at MedMen and is now selling its $30 multi-flavor six packs both in stores and through Eaze .
The beverages come with 2 milligram dose of THC and 5milligrams of CBD per can.
Bullock and his partner Luke Anderson met while both men were at Bain Consulting — and both have a background in consumer retail businesses. Bullock initially worked at the investment bank, Allen & Co., before moving over to Bain for consulting and finally settling in to a job at Bain Capital investing in the firm’s San Francisco-based private equity shop.
Anderson remained at Bain Consulting until Bullock pulled him away to start Cann.
Combining low doses of THC and CBD isn’t a new concept. K-Zen Beverages has raised $5 million from the investment firm DCM to roll out its line of intoxicants and California Dreamin is a Y Combinator backed intoxicant containing a whopping 10 milligrams of THC.
Marijuana soda startup California Dreamin’ wants to replace booze
Bullock graduated from Stanford in 2018 and convinced Anderson to quit his job, the company raised cash through the fall and collected a cool $1.5 million for their venture.
Unlike other brands that are going for more fruity flavored beverages, Bullock and Anderson chose more herbaceous and floral flavors for their drinks –grapefuit and rosemary,  lemon and lavender and blood orange and cardamom (honestly, it seems they’d go well with alcohol rather than replace it).
“We’re really proud of it being an innovative flavor profile and really interesting with the microdose on THC,” says Anderson.  
Cash came in from tNavy Capital, a cannabis-focused hedge fund, and strategic angel investors like Bonobos co-founder, Brian Spaly, and Elizabeth Spaulding, the head of Bain & Co.’s digital practice.
For Eaze, which has stayed away from cannabis beverages, Cann seems to be a literal gateway for consumers who have been unwilling to try higher dosage drinks.
Cann co-founders Luke Anderson and Jake Bullock. Image courtesy of Cann
“They see this big blue ocean of future cannabis users that they haven’t accessed yet,” says Bullock. 
Younger consumers seem more willing to experiment with intoxicants other than traditional spirits these days and venture capital firms are buzzed by the possibility of returns like the ones reaped by the George Clooney-founded spirit company Casamigos (which sold for $1 billion).
Kin Euphorics, backed by KBW Ventures, Canaan, and Fifty Years is using chemicals other than cannabis to get that buzz, but most investors are looking at cannabis for the high and euphoria of intoxicating returns.
Cann, did a soft launch in June with a limited release across four MedMen stores in Los Angeles. “You start really small and notice what people are purchasing and what’s driving repurchasing,” says Anderson. “We had this fortunate problem of it flying off of the shelf with its packaging and flavor differentiation.”
And the company’s founders are also aware of the blatant injustice inherent in their ability to launch a drug distribution and delivery business in 2019 in Los Angeles when the city’s minority communities have been ravaged the criminal justice system for doing the same thing.
So far, the company has taken the step of reaching out to 4thMVMT, the organization founded by Karim Webb to bring entrepreneurialism and investment to communities that have been damaged by the “War on Drugs”.
“We talk to them pretty frequently,” says Bullock. “We’re hoping that their first class will take over all their dispensaries… But we have a standing offer for anyone who they send over to us.”
For both Bullock and Anderson their involvement in the cannabis industry also ties in to their own identities as gay men. “The role that cannabis played in the AIDS crisis, when the process to decriminalize was driven by the real need for that medicine,” says Anderson. “We’re early and it’s young, but part of the reason we launched the business was to make an impact in communities with our company.”
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mondaygrapez · 5 years
Text
My Experiences Within the Prison Complex that is the Mental Institution; A Novel
Abstract: Northwell May-June 2019
“Quality time to find out about each other,” the tv chimed in.
It’s day 3 and I broke my forearm on my right side on Day 1 by trying to break in to the corvette headquarters. Rather, trying to break into the head nurse headquarters. There’s a pungentte smell to the air; it’s one of feces marinating in piss, the smell if grand. 
Missed my best friend foreverest’s graduation party to be here. I was the chicken and I crossed the road the day before *the night before DAy 0. “ are you feeliing suicidal?”, I answer “no.” A light goes on in a room not mine. We’ve been here before.
Sitting precariously atop the heater’s case, I am hollered at, “Miss, be careful.” The corvettes aren’t red with flame designs tonight. Tonight I simply remember, I was the chick, I crossed the road, I lucked out at the busy 6 lane. The pomeranian that is god dog hands me a lollipop they’ve unwrapped for me. My flavor is yellow and it’s not bigger than a dime size.
Dragging one bended knee after the other, I let the knotted talisman hit one side of my back then the other. I owe the Big Guy for this one. “1 o’clock, 2 o’clock, 3 o’clock. Rock” How could I repay the favor. How not what I’m getting at, she’s only the sweetest like like like most of the time. “It’s a pregnancy test.” I declined the third blood test for the first time after two days of blood testing.
It’s day 3 and I miss the ant I found on my hand four days ago. I ruined my sisters night by staying out to party, again. The air stinks. Someone, who resembles the Lynch killer in T Peaks, laughed but I didn’t. My boo doesn’t pick up 8/10 of my calls. I’m starting to feel it strongly indicative of how things are going with them; I should never call again; I may never call again.
It’s all boring but something’s got to do when the t.v. won’t. It’s Day 4 now. I’m a shower. And eat vegan breakfast and lunch on a tray plus call bae. I put on a big orange wig and plastered a smile on me face; therapist say we all have problems. Nutritionist on tv says eraserheads are good for you. I eat one an hour. 
I used to hijack For V8s at the Shanghai headquarters; I tooke a shower. BLew dry my hair and my childs hair. Went grocery shopping bought the three types of wine my wife likes. Opened the tissue box. We all have problems she said. It’s true I know. I tried to relax but my eye just twitched and the inside of my ear tickled. But it was a weird ear there an earring which read “ dc, nvr cared.” From the key chain rack I pick up the keys to corvette I’m going to hijack.
“Hi, I’d like to order,” I begin, “yes, one cheeseburger with bacon, Large order of fries and a Largge fountain soda.” It’s the end of Day 4 and I drank the whole soda after scarfing the fasty foody. It’s the Dawn of Day 5 and my pencil’s not more sharpened. It doesn’t write anymore. From the led container bleeds soggy confetti; a poor excuse for what once was a fine working pencil (Dixon Ticonderoga).
I didn’t eat vegan breakfast: I indulged in the pleasures of a scrambled eggs, sausage (2). It went well with the vegan staples of potatoes with french toast buttered of syrupped or pancaked. The orange juice wash did fine fine too. I wasn’t alone for it, roomate Onfire was in company. So was another but regrettably I no longer remember exactly whom.
Day 5 goes and it’s infinite as this bell toll; just a small town gyal living with a tummy ache. Day 5 goes. I ate half. Wrote a nurse a poem: 
“carribean baby blue” 
you check for us 
we botff here an we tell each other
we are
boff
heree.
I didn’t used to understand what was going on here. And I don’t care.
Music Note: it be hard for me to pick a thot: Music Note. Halioperdd. Ativan. Beny. 300 a week divided by 7. Approximateley 10 a day is 70 which is one fourth about what is really needed. 35 a day times 7 is 
35 x 7 = 245. 
Forty a day times 7: 40 x 7=280. 
5ifty a day is 50 x7= 350. Circle that.
Fifty a day. And all the small things; you can be leather or cashmere but not linen. You’re a cooler or a Fridge. A trunk organizer a milk crate.
Sex doesn’t make you more someones.
Day 6 began. “that’s the worst part” I canceled. I’ve been here for days; was transfered out of the Lo unit to here. It’s Day 6 and my menstrual is days in. I took a nap and the day was.
It’s Day 7 and I only been listening to the redio. The same 3 songs played. Deelite plays. Many sleep. i’m sleepy. i’m okay. i’m softly incarcerated. bulrgh. took adderax for the first time. Working on a bag of chips and mixed fruit cup. i took the adderax and he said i’d be sleepy now. i em sleepy. i slept. i rose. i go watch movie and be angel. i slept more. i listen to tunes overhead.
Day 8 grabbed Mackned’s butt in my dream.woke up to a back turned. Noticed Patient Bill of Rights #3 was violated by the Unit I was transferred from; The old unit smelled of filth. Bryson on redio. New room-mate she is nice. I had desert. I see clearly. It is bright. the colors. the words. “I get goosebumps when I look at it.” It’s never ok to just do w/o thinking.. He looked &. He said goosebumps. I said you wanna fanta?
Day 9 is about now. I’d like to   say that Rest in Peace to all the souls and bodies harmed. Especially by those harmed by T.B.. I find the acts atrocious despite my having made light of them. It’s Day 9 and I’m still awake from Day 8 of hitting a nerve. Day 9 is bad but not the worst. no sleep; red some of All I want is Everything by Cecily von Ziegesar. I’ma have  some lunch. I had a donut. I’m going to sleep.
Day 10. “ sorry I ain’t got no money I’m not trying to be funny  I left it at home today.” Today is desperate; someone wants to be transferred to a rehab facility because they don’t have the strings for their Judaism. It’s Day 10 and I’m reading books I started reading days ago. It’s remarkable how in 10 days you get along and do’t get along with people. Decided on making a phone call next week.
Day 11: it’s almost over. I’m on my 5th room-mate. Lunch was a burger I forgot about my special order vegan burger. “i’m loosing my mind just a little, why don’t you just meet me in the middle.”
Day 12: “ everywhere you go: i’ll follow you down. I’ll follow you down but not that far” the music got old and so did my problems. My so minute problems. “oh baby, you’re driving me crazy, ertime I look around” Some one said I’m quiet the other day.
Day 13: “girl i be shaking  i love it when you go crazy.” The playlist here is wild. Got implied at that I ought be more social. I D K. 
i tried and socialize. so it went. All in all  I’ve been in this unit 10 days or so. Remembering currently how at one point in 2002 I hadn’t an idea what the anarchy symbol meant. My leg shakes sometimes, my left leg. I’m in the present. I feel my inches of hair. I have my book open. M, L, C, M. a white thread knotted falls on my left leg.
Day 14. never was the type to something. i used to always watch a movie through. I may be leaving tomorrow. At most, the day after. I’m throwing a birthday party for myself. I’m inviting everyone I wanna invite. Which is a handful. I’m leaving tomorrow or Wednesday. My party will be a picnic. God let me see them; girls girls girls. What does sheepishly mean. It’s minutes before Day 15 and the eight dots above the water fountain tap are. They vary in shades from blue to red. At either end they’re large buttons. One for more cold one for more heat. A center button for water.
Day 15. what does harried mean. It’s early today but no one but the new guy is up. . what does augur mean. Found out in Sherry Teurkle’s Alone Together that Milo is a robot. What is the Rip Van Winkle it’s mentioned in Caitling Macy’s novel. Put Babe the movie on. Walked on the beach away from it. I’m filling out what must be my 8th “Inpatient Behavioral Health Satisfaction Survey.” I’m excited to leave. I plan on foreal never coming back: it’s mot enough fun. Had a memory of getting in here. I arrived, at first, on a stretcher. I;m leaving with my mom picking me up. I passed gas in front of a MHW who is fond of me. Woops.
Day 16. today the hospital cord is cut. :hiccup: IDEA: make diptych toys. Watch Toy Story this morning. Stealing a book & admitting it. Book: How 2 hold a Garagge Sale not How to Hold A Grudge Forever. 
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