probably time for this story i guess but when i was a kid there was a summer that my brother was really into making smoothies and milkshakes. part of this was that we didn't have AC and couldn't afford to run fans all day so it was kind of important to get good at making Cool Down Concoctions.
we also had a patch of mint, and he had two impressionable little sisters who had the attitude of "fuck it, might as well."
at one point, for fun, this 16 year old boy with a dream in his eye and scientific fervor in heart just wanted to see how far one could push the idea of "vanilla mint smoothie". how much vanilla extract and how much mint can go into a blender before it truly is inedible.
the answer is 3 cups of vanilla extract, 1/2 cup milk alternative, and about 50 sprigs (not leaves, whole spring) of mint. add ice and the courage of a child. idk, it was summer and we were bored.
the word i would use to describe the feeling of drinking it would maybe be "violent" or perhaps, like. "triangular." my nose felt pristine. inhaling following the first sip was like trying to sculpt a new face. i was ensconced in a mesh of horror. it was something beyond taste. for years after, i assumed those commercials that said "this is how it feels to chew five gum" were referencing the exact experience of this singular viscous smoothie.
what's worse is that we knew our mother would hate that we wasted so much vanilla extract. so we had to make it worth it. we had to actually finish the drink. it wasn't "wasting" it if we actually drank it, right? we huddled around outside in the blistering sun, gagging and passing around a single green potion, shivering with disgust. each sip was transcendent, but in a sort of non-euclidean way. i think this is where i lost my binary gender. it eroded certain parts of me in an acidic gut ecology collapse.
here's the thing about love and trust: the next day my brother made a different shake, and i drank it without complaint. it's been like 15 years. he's now a genuinely skilled cook. sometimes one of the three of us will fuck up in the kitchen or find something horrible or make a terrible smoothie mistake and then we pass it to each other, single potion bottle, and we say try it it's delicious. it always smells disgusting. and then, cerimonious, we drink it together. because that's what family does.
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"there could be two beds and they will still only one bed trope their way into your heart somehow" exactly! gojo doesn't know what personal space means at aaaaaaall
satoru wouldn’t know the definition of personal space if it smacked him in the forehead, he needs to be close all the time always.
the “actually, there are two beds” trope with him is so funny esp in a f2l setting because for every night of your trip, he finds some excuse to be in your bed instead of his. actually, he would give up rooming by himself on a group trip if it meant he got to share a room with you, because he’d find a way to share a bed with you.
the first night, he dumps his entire suitcase on his bed, then showers, and you’re asleep by the time he comes back. and now he’s clean and moisturized and he wants to go to bed and oh no! all his stuff is still on his bed! guess he’ll have to share with you for tonight 😇
the second and third nights he fakes having a nightmare to crawl into your embrace, and then feeling sick so you’ll coddle him to sleep.
the fourth night, he showers first and falls asleep on your bed instead of his. you’re the respectful one who takes his bed instead, but ofc he wakes up once you’ve fallen asleep to slide in next to you, and when you groggy and confused he just hushes you back to sleep with a cheeky, “you were in my bed, don’t worry about it.”
the fifth night, he turns the AC all the way up and says you “looked cold” so he “came to cuddle you” while you were asleep.
he could find an excuse for every single night as long as you share a room together, but the moment you invite him in, ask him, “satoru, do you wanna share?” his brain short circuits and his face goes all red and you offering does bad bad bad things to him and now he actually has to sleep in his own bed because this is gonna keep him up all night
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-the bookshop-
crowley: *lounging in a chair*
aziraphale, watching him, casually: nina seems to think you're in love with someone
crowley, glances at him: oh *pauses* why?
aziraphale, raises an eyebrow: so it's true?
crowley, splutters: what? no! *waves a hand* you know what humans are like. making stuff up
aziraphale, doubtful: she seems quite convinced
crowley, rolls his eyes: yeah, well, you know me better *holds his breath* what do you think?
aziraphale: *looks at him*
crowley: *waiting*
aziraphale, sighs: I can't feel anything
crowley, relieved: well, there you are, then. if you can't feel it, I can't be in love with anyone, can I?
aziraphale, smiles briefly: I suppose not
crowley: exactly
crowley & aziraphale: ...
crowley & aziraphale: *both miserable*
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something something about dead boy detectives what edwin's and charles' friendship is actually works in show so half of fandom won't even care if they end up romantic or stay friends. (almost won't care. we all love queer stuff. can't judge.) I, personally, just love their whole dynamic and for me it's totally understandable that charles went into hell for his friend and stayed on earth as a ghost so he can be with edwin. and I think edwin actually meant it when he said "he did not feel the same way but i think we're better friends because of it".
idk for me they're just love each other so purely. what's even a difference between romantic and platonic love?
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