you're in the habit of denying yourself things.
if someone asked you directly, you would say that you love a little treat. you like iced coffee and getting the cookie. you drink juice out of a fancy cup sometimes, and often do use your candles until they gutter out helplessly.
but you hesitate about buying the 20 dollar hand mixer because, like. you could just use your arms. you weren't raised rich. you don't get to just spend the 20 dollars (remember when that could cover lunch?), at least - you don't spend that without agonizing over it first, trying to figure out the cost-benefits like you are defending yourself in front of a jury. yes, this rice cooker could seriously help you. but you do know how to make stovetop rice and it really isn't that hard. how many pies or brownies would you actually make, in order to make that hand mixer worthwhile?
what's wild is that if the money was for a friend, it would already be spent. you'd fork over 40 without blinking an eye, just to make them happy. the difference is that it's for you, so you need to justify it.
and it sneaks in. you ration yourself without meaning to - you don't finish the pint of ice cream, even though you want to. the next time you go to the store, you say ah, i really shouldn't, and then you walk away. you save little bits of your precious things - just in case. sometimes you even go so far as putting that one thing in your shopping cart. and then just leaving it there, because maybe-one-day, but not right now, there's other stuff going on.
you do self-care, of course. but you don't do it more than like, 3 days in a row. after that it just feels a little bit over-the-edge. like. you can't live in decadence, the economy is so bad right now, kid.
so you don't buy the rice cooker. you can-and-will spend the time over the stove. you can withstand the little sorrows. denial and discipline are practically synonyms. and you're not spoiled.
it's just - it's not always a rice cooker. sometimes it is a person or a job or a hug. sometimes it is asking for help. sometimes it is the summer and your college degree. sometimes it is looking down at scabbed knees and feeling a strange kind of falling, like you can't even recognize the girl you used to be. sometimes it is your handprint looking unsteady.
sometimes it is tuesday, and you didn't get fired, and you want to celebrate. but what is it you like, even? you search around your little heart and come up empty. you're so used to denying that all your desires draw a blank.
oh fuck. see, this is the perfect opportunity. if you had a mixer, you'd make a cake.
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i cant get over the ball being so CLEARLY all for crowley i can't get over aziraphale trying to woo him with a WHOLE FUCKING BALL because that's what he knows that's what romance IS for him because he's been wanting to dance with crowley ever since dancing was invented and he's so stuck in time with the way he dresses and talks and he still thinks a dance is the high of romance AND HE MADE A WHOLE ENTIRE FUCKING BALL FOR CROWLEY JUST SO HE COULD DANCE WITH HIM like now it's so fucking obvious he gave away his BOOKS without a second thought and it was all for crowley he organised a whole JANE AUSTEN THEME BALL just so he could have an excuse to finally dance with the love of his life and i can't get over this i'm shaking my fists and pacing up and down he did not give a single fuck about anything other than dancing with crowley and HE BARELY TOUCHED OTHER PEOPLE'S HANDS WHILE HIS WHOLE FUCKING PALM WAS PRESSED TO CROWLEY'S AND i need to lie down
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fucking incredible art by @chernozemm (full on ao3)
flawless (E) (35k) (1/5)
When Crowley had snaked himself across the bar top, half purring, half snarling for Aziraphale to live a little, this wasn’t exactly what he meant by it. Not exclusively, anyway. If there was a list of possibilities, it may have been on there somewhere; scrawled as a hasty afterthought, perhaps under a subheading of Things That Would Surely Never Actually Happen.
But the sight of Aziraphale lying naked and debauched in the middle of his black satin sheets was not something he was about to hesitate over.
(If there was a second list, one surreptitiously scribbled on a napkin in the dark corner of a crowded bar, it would be titled Things Crowley Had No Right To Crave As Much As He Did, and it would start and end with this single bullet point)
@goodomensafterdark
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Giving you a kiss from my cat, I have many to spare.
STAWWP
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i think it's really funny how director li haoling mentioned how the leads of link click couldn't be a male and a female because then 'matters of the heart would make it more complicated for them to work together' SIR YOUR MALE LEADS ARE RIPPING THE LITERAL SPACE TIME CONTINUUM TO STAY TOGETHER I THINK THEIR HEARTS ARE PRETTY FUCKING INVOLVED ?? 😂😂☝️
edit : okay let me just say this to clear doubt or anything, i truly do not believe the director views them platonically. given what he's directed in the past and currently, i highly doubt he isn't aware of what he's making, this is just a light tease over what he's said in an interview! keep in mind, censorship is most definitely a real thing, and he's already walking a tight as hell rope
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HOLY FUCKING SHIT, AARON- he just keeps on giving with these photoshoots
Aaron Taylor Johnson for Calvin Klein's spring campaign, 2023
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