#pepsi cup

[ganyuplushadventures]

Ganyu in a cup

[starry-bi-sky]

fast food is the best course of action after causing a scene. ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀɴʏᴀʟ ᴀʟ ɢʜᴜʟ ᴀᴜ

(First Post Here and Second Post Here

--------

Danny finds Sam easily.

She's right where she said she was over the phone: standing outside on a balcony, in Gotham, at Father's many charity functions. 

("Would you still be willing to fly over to Gotham, Danny?" She asks, her voice ringing clear through the speakers. Danny is already climbing out his window before she even finishes her sentence. He was just about to settle down for the night, his ghosts would know better by now than to disturb him at this time. The Box Ghost not included.)

("Of course." He says, sounding more confident than he feels. Sam was one of his best— closest friends, he would do anything she or Tucker asked. Even if it means stepping foot into his Father's city. He drops down silently, and walks through the house's ghost shield. "Would you like me to bring you anything?")

(Sam sighs through the phone, relief leaking through. "One of the veggie burgers from Nasty Burgers would be great, with their new ecto-fries. Extra salt. I'm sick of all this rich people food.")

(A small smile pulls across Danny's face, tilting at the corner as his living form falls away to his ghost self. "Alright," he says, and kicks himself off the ground, "I'll be there in a few minutes.")

("Thanks, Danny.")

He had the bag of food with him, stored in a container he had to run back to the house to get that would prevent the food from cooling during his flight over. Clutching it in hand, he floats down behind Sam and sheds his invisibility.

Being visible and being invisible always felt different, but in a way Danny can never describe, no matter how many times he tries to think about it. It's like a gut-feeling, a sixth sense, he always knows when he's visible and when he is not.

His ghost form burns away like steel wool being lit, and Danny drops the last foot to the ground silently. In his other hand lies his thermos, but filled with plain ectoplasm — lazarus water. "I have your food." 

(He brought the thermos for himself — his side was still healing from his last fight with Technus. The ghost impaled him with a broken pipe, and Danny returned the favor by wedging his sword into his chest. Technus had been quite offended by him ruining his favorite coat.)

Sam jumps a foot into the air, and her hand slams across her mouth to muffle the shriek she lets out as she whirls around. "Danny!" She hisses, her voice rising in pitch, and her eyes narrow at him into a glare. "Freaking-- Tucker's right, we seriously need to put a bell on you."

"You have been saying that for years," Danny grins, sharp-toothed and jack-knifed, and passes the container over to her. "And yet I've yet to see any kind of bell." He was going to start getting disappointed at this rate.

As Sam takes the container, Danny hops up onto the railing and looks around. He hadn't seen any of Father's other children lurking around the building before he revealed himself, but that doesn't mean they aren't there. He wasn't going to fool himself into thinking that their stealth skills were poor.

He wasn't that arrogant.

...Anymore.

"Oh you will." Sam threatens, unzipping the container and grabbing the takeout bag. "I'll get you a collar and everything, we can start calling you Catwoman." When she pulls out her fries, Danny snaps forward and steals one from the box, ignoring her indignant yell as he pops it into his mouth.

"I spent my own money on these fries, Sam." He sniffs, leaning away from her with a stifled huff of laughter as she swats at him. "So they are technically my fries. And also, Catwoman would be a poor thief if she wore a bell."

Sam grumbles at him, and takes a bite out of a handful of fries. "I'll venmo you money." She says past a mouthful of food, Danny would have been disgusted in the past, when he was still new. But he's gotten used to this... normality. So he makes no reaction to it. "How does three hundred bucks sound?"

Danny immediately frowns.

"Did you have a fight with your parents?" He asks, eyes glancing to the doors. Doors that are covered heavily by curtains and blurred heavily, decadent music passing through in muffled sounds. He shifts himself away from the light. "You only spend that much money when they've pissed you off."

Sam's chewing stops, and her annoyed expression falters into one Danny knows well -- hurt, furrowed brows, a small frown, disappointment -- and she turns her head away from him. She swallows. "Yeah." she says, quiet.

Oh.

Danny knows that tone too.

Guilt settles like a rock in his chest. He leans forward, "Was it about me again?" He wasn't blind to the disdain Sam's parents had for him, far from it. This wasn't the first time Sam had gotten into a fight with them over her friendship with him and Tucker. But especially him. He unsettled people, even after years of observing his age-mates and trying to mimic their behavior, and anyone who knew him in middle school knew it was an act.  

Sam's silence gives him all the confirmation he needs, and the guilt heavies itself with the weight of the sky. Danny's never much cared about others' opinions of him -- he is (was?) an Al Ghul, they never heed to mind what the weight of a simpleton's thoughts.

But.. he cares a little a lot when it hurts his friends like this. He presses his lips together into a thin line, and forces the words out through his teeth. It sounds robotic. Al Ghul's do not apologize. "I... am sorry." But this one does. It doesn’t come easy. 

Sam sighs through her nose, and turns to roll her eyes at him. "Don't apologize on their behalf when you won't even apologize for your own; their assholes." She says, and goes reaching for more fries.

It's a sign, a signal. A silent word for the conversation to move on, to change. A distraction. Danny grasps it with both hands, and makes an offended noise in the back of his throat. And like he has learned, puts a hand to his chest like a scandalized American southern lady. "I apologize! I apologize plenty."

She snorts. "Only when you think it matters." And pokes him in the ribs sharply with her fry. He withholds a wince and snatches it out of her hands. "You're about as unapologetic as they come, Danny J. Fenton. I've seen you look more sincere when you're trying to drive your sword between Vlad's ribs."

"Stabbing Masters is a very important task for me, Sam." Danny says in only partially faux-seriousness. Masters has yet to realize that Danny had no interest in becoming his son, but he had to (reluctantly) admire his persistence. "Of course I will apply myself to it as best as I can."

He grins triumphantly when Sam laughs, and she reaches over to shove him square in the chest. He barks out a laugh of his own as he grips onto the balcony railing and catches himself at an angle.

"Quit with your method actor talk," Sam retorts, grinning sharply while Danny twists himself back up elegantly. "I know you can talk like a normal person, I've literally seen you do it."

Danny sniffs, and snatches more fries from the carton as revenge. "I'm not entirely sure what you mean, Miss Sam." He says, grin-twisting when Sam rolls her eyes. "My speech has always been this way. This 'normal' you speak of, I do not know it."

She waves her hand dismissively at him. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. But if you keep talking like that, I'm pushing you off the balcony."

"Such violence, Sam."

He gets a laugh again, full of disbelief without any of the annoyance. "I'm gonna be the one that stabs you, oh my god. Pot meet kettle." She looks at him again, smiling.

Danny smiles back, and with a flick of his wrist pulls out a kunai from his sleeve. It was one of the few weapons Mother was able to pass on to him whenever she made her scarce visits. He cherishes it well, along with anything else she was capable of giving him. 

He holds the handle out to her, and watches her face shift from disbelief to shock, then back to disbelief. "Then you're gonna need a weapon to do that." 

"Of course you have a pointy object on you." She mutters, and takes the kunai and puts it in her purse. Danny makes a pleased hum, it resonates low in his core, and drops his hand. "When do you not have a pointy object on you?"

As if to make her point, Danny's hands twist near his side, and he holds his palms up to her, revealing the shobo he had also hidden on him. He gives her a shit-eating grin. "Never." He lowers his hand, and pockets the small weapon once again. 

Sam huffs, "Of course," she repeats, "thanks. I was gonna bring a knife but..."

Danny finishes the sentence for her, kicking his feet idly and knowingly. "The security at the door?" He'd seen them on his flight over the building. It wouldn't do much in the face of the Rogues, but at least they were good at keeping appearances and keeping out the smaller threats.

He rolls his eyes and turns his head away, looking up to the ugly, smog-covered skies. There was no bat signal in the air, and while that was a good thing, Danny almost wished there was. He wanted to see it. "I saw, and I would’ve called Father foolish if he hadn’t hired help. He attracts trouble almost as badly as I do."

"Maybe it's hereditary," Sam jokes, laughing under her breath. With her fries finished, she started on her veggie burger. "At least your dad isn't a vigilante like you are."

Danny smiles wryly. It felt nice to be able to talk more freely about this. That he didn't have to hide the fact that his father was Bruce Wayne, now that Sam knew it from her own accord. Maybe he could have conversations like these more often. Even if it was limited to Bruce Wayne only.

(Even if it felt a little terrifying to know that his father was so close by, close enough that Danny could reach out and touch him. To speak to him. But how would he explain that? And with an audience?)

(He’s wanted to see him since he was a kid, and he still does. It clings onto him like a cough that doesn’t go away after the cold already has, and while it has faded over the years, it clings. His mother’s words still ring in his ears however; it’s not safe. It’s not safe.)

(And isn’t that why he faked his death in the first place? So that his little brother would be safe? Why he gave up the heirship, his home, his Mother, Damian, and his chance to meet his Father? Going to see Father, even now, would be throwing that all away. He has to stay away.)

(Why is Damian with Father if staying with Father was unsafe?) 

He just needed to tell Tucker. Danny wouldn’t keep him out of the loop, he was just as much as his friend as Sam was. His eyes draw towards the door, where the golden glow of lights was still pouring through, where music was playing loudly. "Yeah, fortunately." 

They fall into a comfortable silence after that, and Danny finally cracks open his thermos. The pipe Technus impaled him with was covered in a goo that Danny didn’t recognize, but whatever it was, his injury was taking its time healing. The ectoplasm was speeding it up. 

He isn’t sure what the difference between the ectoplasm that Drs. Fenton collected and Grandfather’s Lazarus pools is, but there’s a difference. He swirls the thermos slowly, watching as the ectoplasm inside twists into a small whirlpool sluggishly. 

When left alone, it thickens into a consistency similar to egg whites, or perhaps a thick smoothie, but reverts back into a water-like substance when moved and swirled. It was strange; unexplainable. He can understand, to an extent, why the Drs. Fenton are so obsessed with studying it and the dimension it comes from. 

Sam watches him idly as he brings the thermos to his lips and drinks from it. The effect is instantaneous, a sense of relief washing over Danny as if someone had put a soothing balm onto an injury. It buzzes down to his fingertips, and when he lowers the thermos, he licks his lips and watches the tips of his fingers burn green like frostbite. 

“Your hair turned white again.” Sam comments, her hand reaching out and touching the hair on the nape of his neck. While it’s not the first time Sam’s touched his hair, it still makes him tense up with her hand so close to his throat. Instinct. dan

He ignores the urge to bat her hand away, humming thoughtfully. “I’ve noticed it does that.” He says, pulling down his bangs to see if they’ve also turned white. No, still black. He lets go. “Let me guess; my eyes are green too?” He lifts the thermos again and peers into the chrome casing. 

Sam nods, “Yep, but it’s only the, uh.” She makes a circle around her eyes with her finger. “The iris part. Everything else is fine.” 

Danny can see that. The faint reflection on the chrome casts back an intense green. He takes another sip. It chills the back of his teeth, and he can feel his canines warp and sharpen. He runs his tongue over them, and swallows. 

Sam is still watching him, her fingers drumming against the balcony railing. “What’s it taste like?” 

“Carbonated.” He says dryly, before taking a large swig. He couldn’t name a specific flavor if he tried, it changed every time he took a sip. The only thing that stayed consistent was that it tasted carbonated. And slightly sweet. When he pulls the thermos away, Danny twists his body towards her and offers it out, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “Want to try?” 

Her reaction is immediate. Sam’s nose scrunches up and her mouth twists into a smile, and she makes a huffing-laugh sound. “No, thank you.” She pushes it away lightly with her fingers, “I don’t know how to explain to my parents why my hair is white.” 

Right. Danny pulls the thermos away and puts it down beside him, straining his eyes to see if the rest of his hair has changed colors. Even just his first sip would take half an hour to fade back to its normal black, and he was a halfa. He had no idea how long it’d take to fade on Sam, who was human. 

There’s movement from the corner of his eye, and Danny snaps his head towards the source. There’s a figure, small, a boy, trying to hide behind one of the curtains at the door. His form just barely peeking out from the angle Danny was sitting at. He wouldn’t have seen him if the boy hadn’t moved. 

His fingers curl tightly into the railing, and he breathes in sharp. Sam’s smile crumbles away and she turns to see what he’s looking at. “I should go.” He says, and reaches for his thermos. “There’s someone spying on us. Don’t say anything, just look at me.” 

Sam’s expression warps, twists. Her eyes widen, her jaw starts to drop before fixing itself into place, and her shoulders curl up and tense. She forces it all to smooth over, and she leans casually against the railing. There’s a tick in her jaw. “I see.” Her voice comes through teeth. “Do you think they saw you?”

“I am not sure.” Danny says. He keeps an eye on the figure as he twists himself over and grabs the Nasty Burger bag and the container. He tries not to look like he’s rushing. He is. How long has that boy been there? How much did he see? Did he hear anything? 

“Father, fortunately, has privacy films on the glass. Nobody should have seen me unless they’re specifically trying to peep through the door.” He says. The boy seems to realize that Danny was starting to leave. And, his heart beginning to sink, instead of leaving, moves to grab the door handle instead.

No. No, no, no, no, no.

Danny’s breath catches in his throat, he’s hoping that isn’t who he think it is. But how else would he have not noticed an eavesdropper on their conversation unless it was someone who was capable of bypassing those skills? He told himself that he wouldn’t fool himself into thinking that his siblings’ had poor stealth. He got distracted. 

Five years, five years. He refuses to let that go down the drain. He zips up the container and throws his legs over the other side of the railing, his back facing the door. He hears the doorknob click, and without a word to Sam, slips off down the side and down to the ground below.

Just in time. The once muffled music now sounds blaring as the door presumably is thrown open and the pull of invisibility washes over him like a second skin. He doesn't stay to see who it is.

[paintbrushnebula]

I love how when Gwen slammed that water tower it went

BWOMMM

And when Miles hit it it went

Ting!

another thing I think is funny is that I'm thinking about how Gwen's slam probably sent down a reverberating rumble throughout the entire building that tower is sitting on and probably had the people inside thinking a literal earthquake was happening and Miles just gingerly slaps it only the necessary amount for the funzies, like it's. it's so *them* idk how to explain it I just. really love this detail.

[valleyfae]

lee bodecker as a dad? 🥹🙏🏻

“Aww,” Lee huffs as your sweet little girl launches herself into her father’s open arms. “Hi baby girl, Daddy missed ya.”

Lee engulfs Cecelia — or as you and Lee call her, Cece — in his arms, propping the four-year-old on his hip, he ducks his head and makes his way into the cozy home you two have created.

The sweet scent of cherry pie floods the kitchen when you look up to find your husband cradling your daughter and grinning at her giddily chirping about her day.

Lee finds your eyes and gives you a soft smile of admiration. His pale blue eyes, glimmering sapphires holding an abundance of compassion.

“And! And! After I read, I helped Mama cook and make your pie!” Cece beams with pride.

Finally reaching the kitchenette, Lee kneels and places Cece back down. “I’m so prouda ya, honey. Just so sweet to your Daddy, ain’t ya?” Lee pecks her forehead. “How ‘bout you go and set the table now so we can eat?”

Hastily nodding, she chirps a ‘Yes, sir’ and skips off, leaving you and Lee to yourselves.

Lee grunts, standing up and smirking. “Hi, sugar.” He sneaks his hands tightly around your waist, withholding your capability to respond by pressing his flushed pink lips to yours.

Sinking into Lee’s warm, towering embrace, you reciprocate the kiss, slow like honey, as you savor the taste of your husband before you pull away, coyly grasping the collar of Lee’s button-up.

“Hi, Sheriff,” you reply, looking up at Lee with a sheepish smile. “How was work?”

“Nothin’ new. Was thinkin’ bout the beautiful wife of mine all day.” Lee cups your cheek, deliberately scanning you up and down, his grin evolving into an alluring smirk.

Taking in your cream-colored dress and the frill-trimmed apron that hugs your waistline, Lee groans under his breath. He briskly dips down for another kiss, which is abruptly interrupted by an impatient Cece tugging on his trousers.

“Alright, alright. Daddy’s comin’.” Lee chuckles, pressing one last kiss to your lips before following Cece to the table.

[dudja]

Never forget #cups #memes #pepsi #classic

[coimbrabertone]

Bottlegate and Cola Wars, I Can't Take it Anymore!

A few weeks ago, I wrote a blogpost about the Viceroy rule in NASCAR, and one thing I cut from it was a brief discussion of the Cola Wars in NASCAR. This week, I'm tackling that issue, along with its sports drink offshoot: the bottle wars between Gatorade and Powerade.

So, to review from the Viceroy blog, while NASCAR banned sponsors that clashed with series sponsors, it did not ban competing sponsorships among different teams - in fact, it encouraged it. Thus, Pepsico got involved with Hendrick Motorsports quite famously, initially with a number of Jeff Gordon Pepsi cars, and more recently with Mountain Dew cars from the likes of Dale Earnhardt Jr. and Chase Elliott.

That came to an end after 2020, and come 2023, Chase Elliott would be scooped up by the competition: the Coca-Cola Family of Drivers.

Peaking in the late 90s/early 2000s, the Coke family once consisted of (circa 2003/2004) Steve Park, Dale Earnhardt Jr., Michael Waltrip, Bobby Labonte, Tony Stewart, Bill Elliott, Ricky Rudd, John Andretti, Kyle Petty, Kevin Harvick, Dale Jarrett, Elliott Sadler, Greg Biffle, Kurt Busch, and Jeff Burton.

That's the entire three-car lineup of Dale Earnhardt Inc., both JGR cars, both Petty Enterprises cars, both Yates cars, the Wood Brothers car, Kevin Harvick who succeeded the late Dale Earnhardt at RCR, and 60% of the Roush Racing lineup.

Coke wasn't fucking around.

Unfortunately, Pepsi had Jeff Gordon.

Well, they also sponsored Jeremy Mayfield with Mountain Dew at this time, plus Pepsi/Gatorade had deals with Jeff's Hendrick Motorsports teammates (most prominently Jimmie Johnsons) as well as the other two Roush drivers in the form of Matt Kenseth and Mark Martin, plus Ryan Newman of Penske, but Jeff Gordon is the most relevant one for the first part of this story.

That's because the Cola Wars in NASCAR came to a head at Daytona International Speedway on July 3rd, 2004 for the Pepsi 400.

Coca-Cola was promoting their new Coca-Cola C2 (essentially a soda halfway between Coke and Diet Coke by the sounds of it) brand, and they sponsored an armada of cars in this race:

John Andretti in the DEI #1 Chevy,

Greg Biffle (who won the 2003 Pepsi 400) in the Roush National Guard #16 Ford.

Tony Stewart in the Joe Gibbs Racing Home Depot #20 Chevy.

Ricky Rudd in the Wood Brothers #21 Ford.

Kevin Harvick in the RCR GM Goodwrench #29 Chevy.

Kurt Busch in the Roush Sharpie #97 Ford.

Bill Elliott in his self-owned #98 Dodge.

and Jeff Burton in the Roush #99 Ford.

Coke had eight bullets in the gun to steal the thunder right out from Pepsi's flagship race - in what Pepsico pointed out was a blatant marketing stunt - however, like I said...Pepsi had Jeff Gordon.

John Andretti would crash out, Greg Biffle would end up a lap down, Jeff Burton in twenty-sixth, Bill Elliott eighteenth, Ricky Rudd seventeenth, Kevin Harvick fourteenth, while Tony Stewart in fifth and Kurt Busch in fourth were closest to pulling off Coke's marketing upset.

Unfortunately, none of them could stop Jeff Gordon from winning from pole in his DuPont/Pepsi #24 for Hendrick Motorsports.

It was the biggest moment of the Cola Wars, but 2004 had another Pepsi vs. Coke battle going on at the same time: Bottlegate.

You see, despite the Viceroy rule normally stopping this kind of stuff, in 2004, NASCAR decided to have Gatorade (Pepsi) sponsor victory lane, while Powerade (Coke) bottles would be placed on the roof of the winning cars. How the hell was this allowed to happen? Well, despite the France family running both NASCAR and the International Speedway Corporation, at this time, NASCAR had a deal with Coke and ISC had a deal with Pepsi - the same people in the guise of two different companies signed deals with two rival brands. Of course this was going to cause issues.

Pepsi did not want their drivers in their victory lane photographed with bottles of a Coca-cola owned sports drink.

Thus, Bottlegate began.

Matt Kenseth, Mark Martin, Ryan Newman, Jeff Gordon, and Jimmie Johnson were all sponsored by Pepsi, thus, as soon as they got out of the car in victory lane, they would punch and/or sweep the bottles off the roof, instantly getting Coke products out of the pictures...which pissed off Coca-cola a lot.

They were paying good money just to see drivers knock over their product!

So, after the Pepsi 400, with the aforementioned embarrassment of Coca-cola, NASCAR made a rule banning drivers from punching the bottles off the cars.

Coke drivers won the next two races with Tony Stewart winning at Chicagoland and Kurt Busch winning at New Hampshire.

But then Pepsi's Jimmie Johnson won at Pocono on August 1st.

Well, instead of punching the bottles, Jimmie calmly got out of the car, received a giant cardboard Lowe's sign from someone on his crew, and placed it in front of the Powerade bottles.

I love this stuff, this is generational pettiness over here, the Coke guys and the Pepsi guys each trying to make the other brand look bad, it's great!

Unfortunately, Coke and NASCAR didn't seem to think so, because Jimmie Johnson was fined $10,000 over the sign incident.

So yeah, this was NASCAR in the 2000s, where corporate money was everywhere and there were enough sponsorships going around that the drivers, the tracks, and the series all had separate deals to have to worry about. Hell, three Roush drivers were with Coke and the other two were with Pepsi - compare that to nowadays where the vending machines at RFK Racing are from Fastenal.

How the hell am I supposed to drink a wrench?

[sturnioloho]

someone pls get chris some pineapple juice n adequate water lmfao ik his shit tastes like battery acid

[buckgasms]

Oooooh

OOOOOOOOOH

Cop Bucky????? I've done one before

But maybe we should explore this more??

I also have some top tier asks in my inbox that are sending me reeling. God I'm really all over the place horny at the moment 😬

[karda]

eating a chicken strip and mac and cheese sandwich in a parking lot this is the most patriotic thing ive ever done

[messifangirl]

Fic Rec

Summary:

Pep isn't just competitive. Every manager wants to win, but Pep wants more than that. He wants to make a mark. He doesn't want to be limited to the same cups in the same leagues. He wants to win every competition in every league and if he can do it twice, all the better. That kind of drive, it requires certain choices. Sacrifices. He cuts contact with everyone from Barcelona the second he packs up his office and walks out the door.

Rated: G, pairing: Pep/Leo, status: complete, words: 11k

I rarely read this pairing, and there are not that many fics with it anyways, but this is fantastic. It begins with Pep leaving Barcelona and continues until Leo's at Miami, full of angst and guilt and anger and misunderstandings. I'm underselling it, because I'm still digesting how good it was lol. (Special mention of bestie Kun bc he was amazing in this fic!) Give it a try, and don't forget to leave a review :)

[onionnstinks]

SIMON POSTHN ilove this kid

*tap 4 better quality

igave him heterochromia for funsies heheheh was unsure abt his hair @ firs but I really like it now YEAH😈😈😈😈

just wanna say that A home for Flowers(Tulip) from the omori ost reminds me of Simon.

also iwanted to show jacks expression, thas why he has no face paint on hereJSJS… AND IM TRYING TO FIGURE OUT HOW TO DRAW HIS HAIR???? genuinely am strugglin dawg

I cant explain why i did this, just here it is… anyway ahahhaa goodbye 🤓

[vintage-tech]

People: Not very thirsty? Business owners: Horribly cheap with soda?

Here are some 8 ounce waxed paper Pepsi cups. The logo shown was used from 1973 to 1987, so that should tell you how old these are.

[dirtymaidpanties]

I'm low-key having a stroke on what to draw so im using references more than anything now lol

This is kinda ugly but kinda not so I'm low-key living for it

[wizardyke]

ive been trying to spend less money on shit i dont need but ive also been trying to hype myself up to go to a local takeaway to have a fuckass burger or hot dog. one to beat the agoraphobia allegations and two i need this energy in my life.

[jcriwm]

食べ物 🍔

みなさんは甘いもの好きですか？

甘いものはあまり好きではないのですが、この間

ダイエットをしていて半年ぐらい経った時にシュークリームを食べて、

あまりのおいしさに驚愕しました

某社のハンバーガーやフライドチキンも似たようなもので

久しぶりに食べると

とてつもなくおいしいですよね

定期的に食べたくなる味ですね

[faggotstump]

The nature of this system is that every so often someone will drink a shit ton of soda, turn on a Playlist and then Leave