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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This always got me laughing for three whole years straight since I first read it
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transgenderism poll
*i cant fix poll text. by Yourself i mean you as a kid
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getting shy and covering your face while lando puts you in missionary, but he just LAUGHS AT YOU and peels your hands away, claiming that he wants to see your beautiful face when he’s fucking you
the first thing you ever noticed about lando norris was how beautiful his eyes were. the second thing you noticed about him was how intense those eyes were when they’re looking directly at you.
you thought it was hard enough to be on the receiving end of his unrelenting eye contact when you were simply having a conversation, but then you truly learn how hard it is when you sleep with him.
the both of you are certainly experimental, but lando loves nothing more than putting in all the work in order to make you feel good, so missionary is his go-to position, surprising as that may be. and you have yet to be fully okay with the way he stares at you like you hung the moon and the stars while he’s fucking you. not that you don’t like it— you’re just shy, and those gorgeous eyes of his can be overwhelming. lando thinks it’s funny that you still try to hide.
it’s gotten to the point where he can’t contain his laughter, bordering on condescension, every time you try to hide from his gaze when he has your back on the mattress, hips grinding against yours and eyes mapping every inch of your face like it’s the first time he’s looking at you. you still have the audacity to cover your face, and he won’t have it.
“i don’t think so, pretty,” he’ll laugh, wrapping one large hand around both of your wrists and lifting your hands from your face to above your head. “if you wanna come tonight, you have to look at me.”
you whine in response, face heating up both from his words and overwhelm at how he’s looking at you.
“need to see your beautiful face,” he continues, movements picking up to a faster pace. “no hiding, yeah?”
at this, you’ll make a feeble attempt to free your wrists from his grasp. to no avail, of course. he’ll just laugh more, leaning down to kiss you, and if you don’t open your eyes when he pulls away, then he’ll stop everything he’s doing and wait until he gets his way.
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Mayhaps some Zosan featuring little chopper, maybe they’re fighting but then chopper gets sad so now they’re all just hanging out to appease the little babey!!!
this is how i imagine they ended up like this:
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