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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Insomniac Dazai and heavy sleeper Chuuya my beloveds.
Dazai and Chuuya where they're at the stage of not quite being together, but not-not together either, they have feelings for each other yet they still won't admit it, so they just keep having 'moments' that they deny afterwards.
And them having to share a bed.
They grumble about it, argue that someone should sleep one the couch or the floor, anywhere except together, until they settle on sleeping with their backs facing each other.
Dazai remains there, at the edge of his side of the bed, but Chuuya, as soon as he's asleep, he rolls onto his back. Mouth open, little snores escaping him, his arm and leg spreads out over the space of the bed. A finger touches Dazai's ribs, Chuuya's foot kicks at his calf as slowly but surely, in true mutt fashion, Chuuya takes over the entire bed.
Now, Dazai's on his back too, lay pin straight, shoulder as close to the edge of the bed as he dares to be without falling off. Every now and again he keeps having to shove Chuuya's arm and leg back over to his side of the bed. It started gently, he didn't want to wake the other up and be accused of messing with him whilst he slept. As the night wears on and Dazai's eyes get heavier he becomes more irritable as he pushes Chuuya back. At one point he said his name and tried to shake him awake, only to receive a incoherent sleepy mumble.
Dazai accepts his fate, rolling away from Chuuya once more with a huff. He didn't need space, or comfort. It was fine. He wasn't going to get any sleep anyhow, not with the noises of Chuuya moving around so much. He closes his eyes to fight the irritation in them.
And he's not sure when, but he must have drifted at some point, not quiet asleep, but not really awake either. The warmth of the blanket must have relaxed him. As he hums and re-adjusts his position to get comfy again, he realises his back presses into something. Something warm and soft, something that nestles back against him in reaction to his movement. He feels Chuuya's arm squeeze him closer around his middle and his heart leaps into his throat.
With how heavy a sleeper Chuuya is, he should be fine trying to move away. He can just spend the rest of the night on the couch. Even as he thinks this, the disobedient muscles of his limbs relax. His breath without realising it had slowed to match Chuuya's, and he suddenly feels quite weightless. Dazai couldn't move if he wanted and deep down he doesn't.
For the first time in a long while Dazai fall asleep with ease.
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Despite his best efforts to be silent, Will wakes up as soon as Nico opens the door.
“Neeks?” he mumbles, squinting at the sliver of light bleeding into the bedroom. Nico hurries to close the door behind him, padding forward to the bed and dropping a kiss onto Will’s hair.
“Yeah, baby.”
Will sighs, curling up, leaning into Nico’s touch. “Good.”
Nico feels his tired eyes follow him as he putters quietly around the room, hanging his sword and his jacket, shucking off his torn jeans, tossing his shirt in a corner somewhere.
“Y’hurt?”
Nico smiles. He loves the heavy drawl of Will’s y’s that he gets when he’s sleepy or passionate, as much as he teases. It always makes him fluttery, makes the hairs on the back of his arms stand up.
“No.”
“Promise?”
Nico digs around until he finds a pair of Will’s flannel pyjama pants, tugging them on and rolling the waistband until he can wear them without tripping. He doesn’t bother with a shirt.
“Yes.”
“C’mere.” The blankets shift and whisper as Will peels them slightly back, lifting his arms around the empty space next to him. “Can practic’ly see ya shiverin’. Y’r g’na turn blue inna min’t.”
Nico can’t stop a giggle. He curls into Will’s hold, pressing a kiss to the sun on his chest and muttering something about cowboys and bull-wranglers. He’s well-used to the playfully stern pinch Will nicks on the curve of his thigh, and snickers more.
“Y’r not funny.”
“Y’r’n’funny,” Nico mocks, exaggerated. He clears his throat, and says with exaggerated deepness: “Y’ain’t from ‘round these here pards, pardner.”
Will pinches him again, but does nothing to hide the curve of his smile as he presses a kiss to Nico’s neck, his bare shoulder.
“M’gonna bite you.”
“Y’would’nt —”
Will does bite him, and Nico smacks him in revenge, although he doesn’t really care. If anything he kind of relishes it.
“Freak,” Will says fondly, knowing exactly what Nico’s thinking. He drags his head up to press a long, lingering kiss to Nico’s cheek. “Sleep. Warm up. Talk in the mornin’.”
“Mornin’,” Nico mocks tiredly, but settles in too, presses a last kiss to Will’s jaw before settling against him, breaths evening out to join him in dreamland.
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Older!Husband!Price with a Younger!Wife who lovingly calls him "old man" whenever he calls her "little girl".
Older!Husband!Price who comes back from deployment early to his Younger!Wife asleep while watching true crime podcasts. He doesn't understand the new generation and how they think murder is entertainment. Especially since his precious girl worries every time he has to leave and makes sure he leaves his actions at the door.
Older!Husband!Price who huffs and puffs and complains whenever his Younger!Wife wants to go on young people dates. What the hell is a ramen conveyor belt and why are you trying to convince him its better a classic home cooked meal.
Older!Husband!Price who has fought the worst of the worst, but can't stand his ground against puppy eyes and a cute stuffed animal.
Older!Husband!Price who reminds you that he is, in fact, nearly old enough to be your father whenever you "jokingly" call him Daddy.
Older!Husband!Price who makes you sit in his lap and catch him up on all the drama after a long deployment he'd rather just forget. Yes, of course your ex-bestie was out of line for calling him a GILF. He was still DILF age, thank you very much. What a lovely girl you are for defending his honor.
Older!Husband!Price who loves how young you make him feel, but hates that he understands the damn internet lingo you've taught him. Hates that he understood what Gaz meant when he said he was craving a "glizzy" while they were knee deep in mud and hours away from civilization.
Older!Husband!Price who thinks about letting you make him a father more often than a man of his position should.
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zolu is maybe one of the easiest ships i've ever liked. they're dating, except when they're not, they're best friends even when they're kissing and they're still captain and first mate when they aren't. they hold hands, they hug. they have sex. they don't.
Luffy can hold Zoro's katanas and Zoro can hold Luffy's strawhat and no one bats an eye. one says "You're so cool!" and the other says "You're strong" and it's just another way to say "I see you, this is why I follow you/this is why I trust you". it's not seeing each other for a long time and still knowing how the other's steps sound like against wood and sand. the captain runs and the first mate follows. it's always "Zoro and the others" and "Where's Luffy?"
if they're just friends, if they're something more, if they don't have a label for it, at its core, it's just about how they get each other. they understand how the other's mind works. however you view them, it doesn't erase they fact that they love each other in a way they don't love other people.
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