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.
52K notes
·
View notes
Hey guys, I just want to let yall know that starting tomorrow, I probably won't be super active in questioning asks for the next three days.
They're shutting off the Wifi bc we're moving, but I will have my parents hotspot. You may see me active on here, but trust me, that source of internet will not hold up the amount of words I put into my responses.
I dont want any ask or post flaking out on me after I out so much thought and love into it.
I will probably get back to yall on Sunday after I've got my stuff settled! I'm so excited to go back to my home city after being in this southern dump for 2 years.
Praying for you though @aesopsdolly
You're gonna hate it down here. Trust me, unless you're in a big city like Houston or something, there's literally NOTHING TO DO and most of the the people are shitty asf.
Just try to find the right friends and don't let no bitch try to fuck with you :) they genuinely don't care abt anyone's wellbeing down here, so be careful.
1 note
·
View note
You're the only Argentinian communist I know, so I thought I'd ask you: what's up with Messi and China right now?
the communist party of china is being closed down unless xi jinping can throw the biggest footbal match the multipolar world has ever seen and hes hiring messi for help
666 notes
·
View notes
“This reminds me of playtime back home,” Diana’s smile is pearly and smudged with blood, and Bruce struggles not to stare.
He won’t point out that she just ripped an alien apart with her bare hands and way too little effort.
He wants to. Anyone would have words faced with gods, but he doesn’t trust his conversation skills.
“Hn.”
“Boy, you’re a chatty one,” Green Lantern is positively insufferable.
He’s whip-smart, dangerously brave, selfless and tactical when needs be, but insufferable all the same, “ Also, cool boomerang.”
Defensive, Bruce grips the gadget a little closer to his hip, “It’s a batarang.” And it was my son’s idea. Of course it’s impressive.
The brunette snorts, Diana chuckling alongside him, both entirely too bright for the gore on their clothes, “Oh yeah, that sounds so much better. But you obviously know how to handle it, I’ll tell you that much,”
inwardly, Bruce frowns. Why would he design a weapon he couldn’t use?
“Yes, your combat skills are impressive! You must do your tribe proud,”
Involuntarily, his head lowers in embarrassment. The cowl feels ten times hotter now, and he wants to snarl at Superman for tugging at the pointy ears. His smile just blinds him too much, that’s all.
Aquaman picks body matter out of his hair, beach sand blonde, sending The Flash a smirk Bruce assumes is teasing.
He can’t quite tell. They’ve known each other for 10 hours, 20 minutes, and 32 seconds, and an odd, familiar energy had settled. “At least you’re not the only nerd in class.”
The Flash is young; Bruce notes the eagerness in his footsteps, the reckless courage, the perseverance to fight for the world and against it;
More than anything, he notices pride sparking a light in his chest.
“Not a nerd!"
"Whatever, speedy,"
"This nerd saved your well-conditioned ass! But anyway, DUDE, – I mean, can we talk about the tech? Just, – I need to know how you designed that utility belt, because holy FUCK, -,”
There’s a full minute of just animated hand gestures, plentiful explanations, queries, and Bruce of course pays attention to all of it.
The Flash, – Barry, as he accidentally revealed five minutes in, too lost in excitable rambling to notice, – stops, frowns,
“Uh, dude? I mean, obviously, the whole,” he gestures to the entirety of Bruce, “Man Bat thing, that rocks, but isn’t it easier to just use your powers?”
Superman’s fingers snap, “I was wondering about that! Why didn’t you?”
But there’s an underlying hint that the man already suspects it; It makes Bruce’s teeth grind anxiously, looking around expectant, curious eyes,
“I don’t have superpowers,” the truth spills in a rush, and Bruce doesn’t take it back in time.
They share stunned looks between them, but sky-blue eyes, peppered with a ring of brown in the left one, those stay on him. He’s uncomfortable with the appreciative gleam.
Superman smirks, “We should do this again!”
2K notes
·
View notes