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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Ok I would stak £200 pounds on that everyone in my block is at least 21yrs old so WHY THE HELL did i just have to spend forty-five fucking minutes cleaning out the maggots from our kitchen because NODBOY EMPTIES THE FUCKING BINS
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De-aged Danny wandering the street of Gotham as a five year old:
Batfam: hello child are you alright?
Danny: Yup! :D
Batfam: where are your parents buddy?
Danny: don’t need em. Tried to kill me
Batfam: *concerned* how about you come with us for a little while?
Danny: no thank you mister Batman, I don’t trust adults
Batfam: oh no
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Wait, did you put a photo of Vil and Neige as kids in Eric’s office??
oh good, I was afraid that wasn't going to read properly and people would just be like "what is this supposed to be". :') but yeah! I like to think Eric was pretty fond of Neige as a kid! single dad sees orphan child approximately the same age as his own son and goes "hmm. okay, you guys are going to be friends now." (this did not go as well as he'd hoped.)
(also I do love how it's kind of a running joke that everyone loves Neige except for Vil, who's standing over in the corner and just seething with furious irrational hatred. someday maybe he'll find someone who doesn't think Neige is the best thing since cinnamon rolls.)
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i don't know what it is about your art that makes me so motivated. i think it's the way you depict wild animals in the most unassuming, americana settings. i've always felt as if i'm not fully meant to be here, some sort of detached - perks of being korean-american and southern - and looking at your art makes me feel seen.
looking at your art makes me feel at home, which is something i don't usually feel. if this makes any sense, it feels like i am the jaguar at the top of the staircase, the stag leaping rooftop to rooftop, the girl with the face of the wolf, that's me.
every time i'm scared that maybe i won't make it, i trot on over here and feel comforted.
i hope you have a great night (or morning, or afternoon, or whatever else it may be in your world), because after looking through your pieces, i know i sure am :)
What tremendously kind things to say — I genuinely used to fantasize that someday my art might make someone feel this way. Messages like this blow my mind. Thank you!
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as we enter the start of a semester and the dreaded Hour of Making Friends us upon us... if ur ever at a loss for what to say in one of those weird social situations where you only vaguely-know people, one of my favorite questions to ask is "what is your favorite food crime." a food crime is like the food combination that you love that other people find revolting. press them to take it further than pineapple on pizza, that's rote. food crimes is a good topic that has many benefits as it turns out all people are degenerates and also it will give you some cool ideas to try out later in the privacy of your own degenerate kitchen
the other good thing to ask is "okay but has anyone here ever been someplace haunted" bc it turns out if you ask most people directly they don't believe in ghosts, but many people are like "oh yeah i lived in a haunted house. ghosts aren't real tho"
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I'm obsessed with the idea of a mischief maker Astarion. Like, that man has spent so long without autonomy that he uses all of it just to be a chronic little shit.
Imagine this: Astarion, bored, simply needs to cause mischief. His hands are twitchy and he simply cannot keep them to himself.
So he randomly gets up, walks over to where (probably Wyll) is like preparing vegtables for the night while Karlach stands beside him giving him terrible cooking advice. And Astarion just. Nonchalantly walks over, picks up a carrot, and walks away with it. Bites into it, too. Makes sure they see him do it. They know he doesn't need to eat it. He knows they know he doesn't need to eat it. He's a fucking vampire. But he does, and they can't do shit about it.
Or like. He just walks up to Gale, plucks the book from his hands, and starts reading. Stretches out, gets comfy, makes sure to make use of all of Gale's one pillow (because you know Gale is the type of man to have only one pillow) And just. Doesn't say anything.
And what's Gale gonna do about it?? Get mad? Astarion doesn't care. It's funny.
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i should. stop abandoning tumblr for long periods of time. anyways i think everyone should play hades at least once in their life
this is exactly how my first meeting with thanatos went i was saving my nectars for him but then he just started yelling at me and didnt let me give him a nectar. i was devastated.
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