#mexican street snacks | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Total funding amounts to $125.3M.

#mexican street snacks

jamietarttsnorthernattitude · 5 months

Text

Trader Joe’s Everything and the Elote dip is very good.

#that is all #writing snack #Mexican street corn is one of my favorite things

2 notes · View notes

elotesdemivida · 2 years

Text

Elotes de La Pulga Río.

Mis favoritos de toda la vida. Iba a clases de inglés en una escuela a lado de la pulga, iba dos veces a la semana a clases y dos veces a la semana pedía que me compraran uno de esos elotes (obvio no siempre era un sí). Me atendían una señora y un señor, ahora me atienden los hijos. Hace poquito me atendió el señor y me recordó, me dijo que yo era la niña que iba de la escuela y que tenía tiempo de no verme.

Con todo y chile que pica, pero que no le pongan mucho porque pica bastante. Me gusta que le ponen mucho queso panela y son los de mi infancia, siempre saben igual.

#elotes #mexico #comida #food #street food #mexican snacks #mexican corn #corn

8 notes · View notes

emilyphanster · 10 months

Photo

Mexican Street Corn Dip This straightforward Mexican street corn dip is a must-have at your next gathering thanks to the charred corn, zesty jalapeno, and bold cotija cheese.

#appetizers and snacks #jalapeno #clove garlic #cotija cheese #mexican street corn dip #heat #street corn

0 notes

cumikering · 2 months

Text

Neighbour Ghost x reader 3

2.9k | fluff To him, nothing existed outside the walls of his favourite flat (part 1) (part 4)

When was the last time Simon was this on edge about meeting someone? Probably when he first met his captain when he joined the SAS, about to take the CQB test.

What was he even nervous about this time? This was no first impression - he already scared you the first time you met. He was lucky you still wanted to talk to him after. If he were you, he probably would avoid the huge, grim-faced bloke with the horrible dad jokes.

That Sunday evening, wearing a crisp button down, he knocked on your door and waited. He had his sleeves rolled up his forearms, trimmed his scruff that morning, even put on some cologne, but as he stood there he realised he never explicitly stated this was a date.

Did he need to? He wanted it to be without having to say it. He knew assumptions were the leading cause of misunderstandings, but would you still want to go if it was?

You emerged from your flat with a sweet smile, wearing a cute dress and pretty heels, all dolled up for the evening. You looked like you were ready for a date. Was this a date?!

He blinked, the fabric of his shirt strained slightly across his chest as he breathed in. “You look lovely.”

Your smile widened. “Thanks. You look nice yourself.” Your gaze lingered, but he hoped not because you thought he was trying too hard.

In front of his car, he silently offered you his arm. He wasn’t even looking at you, but he heard your faint chuckle when you took it to walk up to the restaurant.

“I’ve got a reservation for 2 under Simon Riley,” he answered the young host.

“Mr. Riley…” He repeated as he went through the tablet. “I’m sorry, perhaps a different name?”

Simon pulled out his email confirmation.

The host squinted at the phone and upon realisation widened his eyes. “Oh, I’m so sorry, sir. There must be a mistake on our end. Your name isn’t on the list.” He blinked. “We’re uh- we’re fully booked tonight.”

“Can you please check again? Or is there a way you can squeeze us in?”

The host winced, and at this point he reckoned it was more from scrutiny of his stare rather than the unfortunate error.

“I’m terribly sorry, but we’re booked solid, sir.” He swallowed. “May I let you know if something opens up?”

No, no, no. His first night out with you wasn’t going to be ruined. Did he have to intimidate someone into giving up their table? He knew he could.

“It’s okay, Simon, we can go elsewhere,” you reassured, your hand still on the crook of his arm.

No, he didn’t want to go anywhere else! He wanted this. You wanted this.

You thanked the host and led the defeated soldier out, rubbing his inked forearm. On the pavement, absolutely gutted, he turned to you, shoulders sagging.

“Hey, isn’t that famous taco shop nearby? Just down the street, I think?” You looked up at him. “Been meaning to try it. Do you like Mexican?”

It didn’t matter what he liked. “We can get anything you want.”

Your warm hand remained on him the short walk to the place. Unfortunately, it was packed, leaving no table left so you got the meal to-go. He felt terrible - you got all dolled up for his plans to go sideways, only ending up with tacos in the car.

You nudged him with your elbow. “Don’t look so sad, Simon. We can pretend this is round two, the late-night snack because the fancy dinner wasn’t filling enough.”

He glanced at you, your smile bright as you looked up the sky, your hair danced to your steps. He smiled to himself. At least the weather was nice, and most importantly, you were there. His for the evening.

“Oh, those are humongous!” you gasped, steps coming to an abrupt stop.

He followed your line of sight to the bright display of a tucked away cookie shop. You tugged on his hand as you made your way there. He chuckled lightly as you revelled in the selection, leaving with four hefty cookies roughly the size of his palm (which you fought him to pay for).

You beamed up at him when he took your hand which fitted perfectly in his. He wished the walk to the car was further so you didn’t have to let go so soon.

While dinner delighted you, Simon was trying his best to pretend the coriander in his mouth didn’t taste like soap. His eyes closed as he breathed in deeply.

“Simon, you should have told me you don’t like tacos.” You grimaced.

“At least you’re enjoying yours.”

“I am, but it’s no fun if you don’t! You eat each in two bites, and chew like you’re trying not to throw up.

“’m fine.” He’d had far worse in the field.

“You need to tell me if you don’t like something next time, okay?”

He hoped there would be a next time.

“Should we get you something else? You can’t tell me you’re full.”

He sighed and gave you a sheepish smile. “Maybe Chinese near the flat?”

You laughed. “You’ve got good taste.

While Simon got the takeaway, you headed to your flat. He figured he might as well get changed into more comfortable clothes to enjoy his dinner in, still annoyed by how the evening turned into another mediocre night in.

His mum popped out of his kitchen with a mug of steaming hot tea, grinning. “Si, the cookies are mint. You should have taken me there!”

Oh? You’d raved about them, but the two you saved were for his mum? Why did you have to be this kind? So generous, even after the lame evening.

When he made his way to yours, you’d left your door unlocked. You lounged on the couch, your hair still damp, watching a baking show.

“What’s this?” He sat next to you.

“Great British Bake Off. Have you seen?”

He shook his head. “Don’t watch a lot of TV.”

“The cookies put me in such a baking mood.”

He scarfed his meal down in silence, simply grateful this round didn’t taste funny. When he was done, he brushed against your arm as he placed the empty takeaway box on the coffee table. He casually stretched his arm along the back of the couch, and you scooted closer, pressing against his muscled thigh. The couch didn’t feel so small anymore, but he needed it to be even smaller.

The steak dinner might have failed, but this wasn’t bad at all - staying in, enjoying your quiet company like this. Maybe you didn’t mind his presence after all.

While this sort of show was not his first pick at all, to his surprise, the calmness mesmerised him. Despite the tense nature of a competition, the show was serene and kindly. You were right - it was quite inspiring. Although he couldn’t help but laugh when the sweet Merry Berry earnestly said ‘soggy bottom’ when judging the contestants’ pies.

Simon peered at you. He’d never learnt to cook beyond turning things edible, let alone bake anything, but watching deft hands peeling, slicing, rolling and braiding was hypnotising to say the least. He wondered when you we’re going to bake again because he’d love to watch you and your delicate hands again.

Should he get the apples? Would you knock on his door with another pie if he did? If he could do it all again, he’d have leant in to kiss you instead of leaning against the doorframe to scare you.

When the episode came to an end, he excused himself for the night. It was later than the time he usually left, but losing a little sleep over your company was worth it.

“Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask where you got your hoodies. They look so thick and comfortable.”

“They’re from this shop near the base. Would you like one?”

“I’d love that! Could you take one of mine for size reference?”

He nodded and you went to retrieve your hoodie from your room.

“Please don’t judge! It’s my favourite.”

With a small smile, he took the old and faded hoodie from you, knowing it had the most soul. “They’re the best when they’re worn, yeah?”

Back at base, Simon placed your possession carefully in his wardrobe. It felt oddly intimate to be trusted with your clothing, especially your favourite, like it didn’t belong in his cold and dark room. But as he lay in bed, he wondered why he didn’t kiss you on the cheek, or anywhere you allowed him, really.

He turned to his wardrobe. You wouldn’t mind terribly if he kept your hoodie on his bed, would you? He stifled a smile when he laid it next to his pillow. He thought of the movies you watched wearing said hoodie, the teas you sipped. He wondered if you’ve danced in it alone in your kitchen, and to which songs, and what you were cooking.

That night, in the silence he didn’t want to break, he sighed softly. Things could be alright after all.

While Simon had been busy that week, he could leave base on time that Friday and arranged dinner with you (and his mum too, of course). He even had some time to drop by the hoodie shop to get you one (you didn’t need to know he got the exact same one for himself), although he was a little gutted that he didn’t have an excuse to have your hoodie with him anymore.

He picked you up from work before driving to his mum. He was excited to present you the gift which sat in his backseat, but he figured he’d do it later at the end of the night at yours. You patted his forearm when you got in the car, and he just couldn’t look away from your smile. Your hands lay idle on your thighs during the drive and he itched to grab one. He prayed for a moment, an excuse, an opportunity.

But when he pulled up at the bakery, from the large window, his eyes narrowed at the scene in the usually peaceful shop. His mum stood behind the counter, hands clenched over her chest, next to an elderly man who was shouting at another man in front of the counter.

Rage flared in the lieutenant. He slammed his door shut and stormed into the shop, throwing the door against the wall.

The man in question turned at the interruption. It was the devil of Simon’s nightmares, Mr. Riley, eyes wide as he registered the sight of the livid 6ft 4 soldier. Simon strode across the room and took a huff of breath before pulling his fist back. The blow knocked his dad straight onto the floor.

“Simon!” his mum gasped.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he spat at his dad who cowered from him.

“I’m- I’m just trying to apologise. I know I was wrong for what I did.” He held his skinny hands up, as if they could protect him against his son’s wrath. “I’m a changed man, Simon.”

A changed man? Yeah, right.

“What you’ve done is unforgivable, and the least you can do is leave her alone,” he said through gritted teeth. He pulled his fist back again, and his dad closed his eyes in resignation.

“Si, no. He’s made enough of a scene.” His mum pulled him by the shoulder. “Come on, Si. Don’t get yourself in trouble for him.”

He heaved, pausing, but his fist didn’t relent. Still pulled back, like the string of a bow more than ready to snap, the tension in his arm aching. But he remembered you were there, witnessing everything, how the illusion that he was an ordinary man crumbled.

It was a rude awakening that even when the pain in his life was out of sight, he was still the Simon with all his baggage. That day, the disgrace clawed its way out of the ground like the undead. Because this, his history, was never dead to begin with. He was cursed with the shame of being related to such a man.

“You don’t want to find out what I’m going to do if I see your face again.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll leave her alone.” He held his trembling hand up, scooting backwards before scrambling out the door, bumping into you as you watched in stunned silence.

“Melanie, you can go,” the elderly man behind the counter said.

She let out a shaky breath and disappeared to the back before emerging back with her belongings.

The room was tense, and with a tight smile, you only nodded at who he assumed to be the owner of the bakery. You went to his mum, rubbing her arm as you led her out. Simon hadn’t said a word since, his fists in his pockets, telling himself to not run after his dad and bash his face in once and for all.

Though on the outside it looked business as usual with Simon, always quiet with an icy stare, he was seething at dinner. The meal didn’t taste any better than MRE as his fork stabbed the pieces of whatever-it-was on his plate.

His mum seemed unaffected too, chatting and laughing with you, patting your forearm. As if she’d expected it, like her husband was a sentence that haunted wherever she went, waiting to strike. Thankfully, you were nice enough to not ask anything about the incident, preventing the evening from being even more shameful.

While you went to your flat to settle in, Simon and his mum went to his.

“What did he do to you?” he asked as soon as the door closed.

She sighed softly. “He was grovelling, asking me to come back.”

“How did he even know you work there?”

“I’ve got no idea, Si. But he always finds a way to get what he wants.”

He stared at her, wondering what that meant - if she was folding. He looked away before letting out a deep breath, running his fingers through his overgrown blond hair.

“I’ve been thinking about it. I’m arranging a meeting with a divorce lawyer.”

His lips quirked into the tiniest smile. It was about time.

After a shower, Simon knocked on your door. You didn’t seem to lock it anymore when you were expecting him. From the couch, you looked over your shoulder with a smile.

“I figured it was an Earl Grey kind of night.”

You had the kettle on the table, next to two mugs – one empty.

His eyes flicked to you, standing by the couch. “You must be wondering what the fuck that was.”

“Oh, you don’t need to tell-“

“That was my dad. My mum came here to get away from him.”

You gave him a sympathetic nod, patting the seat next to you.

He dropped himself onto the couch. “He hasn’t been nice to my mum to say the least. Hasn’t been to any of us in fact.”

“Must have taken a lot of courage to walk away, leaving everything she’s ever known.”

He turned to you, brows raised. “She told you?”

“No, but it’s not hard to see. She’s got no one here except you. Something must have happened back home.” You paused. “I know it’s just… difficult to do two people’s work.”

His gaze stayed on you, watching how yours cast down. He didn’t know what possessed him, but he asked, “How do you deal with guilt?”

“Accept that sometimes it’s not your fault.” You scooted closer, your hand on his. “That sometimes there’s nothing you can do even when you desperately want to. That you’re not always the good guy in everyone’s story.”

He leaned into your shoulder, his nose brushing against the smooth skin of your neck as he let out a long sigh.

You wrapped your arms around him. “I told you I’ve only got my dad now. He kept forgiving my mum, but it just didn’t work when your heart’s not there. It might have not been my fault things fell apart, but I wanted to have a hand in rebuilding what’s left. I like to think we’ve been having a pretty good time.”

Simon could tell you were smiling from the climb of your voice.

“You’ve still got your mum. There are still nice things to be had.”

His thick arms slipped around your waist. The TV droned on as the last half of your tea went cold, but you didn’t let go, fingers running through the hair above the nape of his neck.

His shoulders were still heavy. His dad wasn’t out of their lives yet, but with you like this, it was easy to forget it all. That anything else existed outside your quiet flat – his favourite flat.

He sat back and pulled you to him, an arm around you. You put on another episode of GBBO and lay on his chest. As the both of you stayed wordless, he contemplated if he could let himself stay - the couch or the floor would be fine. He wouldn’t leave if you asked, but you didn’t.

Near midnight, he excused himself to his flat - his first time staying there since his mum came. At the door, he braved himself to kiss you on the cheek.

“See you at breakfast.”

@tiredmetalenthusiast @shadofireshinobi @keegansshark @two-gh0sts @rowanyaboats @mangoguy @eve-lie @luvecarson @ghostslittlegf @gluttonybiscuits @jaguarthecat @nocturnalreader106 @devils-dares @sparrowgalaxy

356 notes · View notes

visit-new-york · 6 months

Text

What are some of the popular dining options or food vendors in or around Brooklyn Bridge Park?

Nestled against the stunning backdrop of the iconic Brooklyn Bridge and overlooking the Manhattan skyline, Brooklyn Bridge Park offers not only breathtaking views but also a diverse culinary landscape that caters to every palate. Whether you're craving a leisurely brunch, a quick snack, or a romantic dinner, the area surrounding Brooklyn Bridge Park has something for everyone. In this article, we'll explore some of the popular dining options and food vendors that enhance the overall experience of visiting this picturesque location.

Van Leeuwen Ice Cream:

If you're strolling through Brooklyn Bridge Park on a warm day and craving a sweet treat, make your way to Van Leeuwen Ice Cream. This artisanal ice cream shop, located nearby, is renowned for its high-quality, made-from-scratch ice creams. With a commitment to using natural and organic ingredients, Van Leeuwen offers a delectable range of flavors, from classic vanilla to unique options like honeycomb and earl grey. Enjoy a cone or cup as you take in the stunning views of the park and the surrounding waterfront. The irresistible combination of creamy textures and distinctive flavors makes Van Leeuwen a favorite among locals and tourists alike.

Juliana's Pizza:

Situated just a stone's throw away from Brooklyn Bridge Park, Juliana's Pizza is a beloved establishment with a rich history. Known for its coal-fired brick oven pizzas, Juliana's serves up delicious pies with a perfect balance of crispy crust and fresh, high-quality toppings. The cozy ambiance and friendly staff make it an ideal spot for families and friends to gather and enjoy a classic New York slice.

Gran Electrica:

For those seeking a taste of authentic Mexican cuisine, Gran Electrica is a must-visit restaurant located near the park. With a vibrant atmosphere and a menu featuring traditional dishes prepared with a modern twist, Gran Electrica offers a unique dining experience. From flavorful tacos to handcrafted cocktails, this eatery seamlessly blends Mexican flavors with a contemporary flair.

Smorgasburg:

Food enthusiasts and adventurous eaters alike will appreciate the diverse culinary offerings at Smorgasburg. This open-air food market, located in DUMBO, features a rotating selection of food vendors offering everything from international street food to innovative and Instagram-worthy desserts. From crispy Korean fried chicken to decadent ice cream sandwiches, Smorgasburg is a food lover's paradise just a short stroll from Brooklyn Bridge Park.

Grimaldi's Pizzeria:

Another pizza gem in the vicinity, Grimaldi's Pizzeria, is known for its coal-brick oven pies with a thin crust and fresh mozzarella. This legendary pizzeria has been serving up classic New York-style pizza for decades. With its prime location under the Brooklyn Bridge, diners can enjoy their meal while taking in the scenic views of the bridge and the Manhattan skyline.

Time Out Market:

For a curated selection of the best local eats, head to Time Out Market in DUMBO. This food and cultural market features a variety of stalls offering gourmet dishes from some of the city's top chefs. Whether you're in the mood for artisanal burgers, sushi, or artisanal pastries, Time Out Market provides a one-stop culinary adventure for foodies.

Conclusion:

Brooklyn Bridge Park not only offers a serene escape from the hustle and bustle of the city but also serves as a gateway to a culinary journey through some of Brooklyn's finest dining establishments. From historic pizzerias to modern food markets, the area around the park presents a diverse array of flavors and experiences for locals and visitors alike. So, the next time you find yourself in the shadow of the Brooklyn Bridge, be sure to explore the gastronomic delights that make this waterfront neighborhood a true epicurean destination.

73 notes · View notes

cupofmilkyway · 3 months

Text

I saw some people putting the dunmeshi gang in their own country/region and thought it was a fun idea! So here's some art and thoughts on a mexican setting:]

We have Marcille enjoying a cup of arroz con leche (rice and milk dessert), divorced dad Chilchuck eating chapulines (fried/cooked crickets) and the Touden siblings representing me and my sister when we get esquimos (icy milkshake)

More rambles + extra Chilchuck doodle under cut <3

Basilisco con tenis :)

I'm from the mainly urban part of México (basically next to the capital, if you know you know) so I didn't have a lot to draw from when it comes to traditional or regional clothing in my area, so I avoided it. But I put them in outfits I see around me commonly so I think it counts.

Chilchuck says early on that he actually enjoys eating coin bugs, so I think he'd like chapulines and other bug snacks too! He's also wearing a paliacate that he sometimes lifts up to his head when it's too hot.

All of them probably get sunburnt a lot from the climate, but I think Laios suffers the most from it since he doesn't like to put on sunscreen.

Senshi (not pictured here) has a very shady looking but delicious street food stall near Marcille and Falin's school, they met when Laios forced convinced them to try it's menudo (a soupy dish made with animal innards). He changes locations regularly but prefers to sell near universities and other schools.

Falin has hiked up the Popocatepetl at least 3 times and everytime she brings home some sort of bug for Laios to stare at.

#Latino dunmeshi fans come tell me your thoughts #basilisco con tennis shirt my beloved #arek draws #gonna post a spanish version too:)#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #tragones y mazmorras

28 notes · View notes

trivialbob · 3 months

Text

During our vacation Sheila hired a guide to take us to really local places to try some food and drink. Ours was a walking tour. Golf cart and bike tours are available too. Next year I want to try the bike version.

We started the evening taking a taxi from our place at the north end of Isla Mujeres to the La Gloria neighborhood. We met up with our guide, Jose.

(much more after the cut)

First stop: Dessert! Jose explained that people were getting too full by the end of the tours and skipping dessert. So now he likes to start with that. I don't like sweets and desserts a lot, so this was definitely the way for me to eat some -- on an empty stomach.

We entered a small courtyard in front of a home. There was a stove and griddle and one four-top table under a tin roof. Our hosts served us flan. It was excellent. This is probably the first time I've finished any dessert in years.

Second stop: This was at a food cart parked in the street. A handwritten sign said "Hay Tamales," which I think means "Here are tamales."

We were served elote, a Mexican street corn salad. The portion was decent-sized and the elote was like comfort food. Had Sheila or I made this at home, it would be the sort of thing I would have left on the stove so I could snack on it all night long.

Had there not been five local people waiting in line, I probably would have broken open the foam cup to lick the bottom after I'd spooned out everything else.

Third stop: Panaderia Emmanuel Bakery. Jose explained that Mexican bakeries are open in the evening, unlike the American ones that open early in the morning. We had our choice of various fresh buns, donuts, and pastries. Sheila and I each selected an item. They were tasty and large. Thank goodness we were able to take home what we couldn't eat. Had we finished the bakery items, we would have been too full to go to the next four stops. (Here is the bakery in a Google Maps picture.)

Fourth stop: This was at a small, outdoor kitchen under a canvas roof. Two women were cooking food. We were served pork carnitas on a fresh bakery roll. I really liked this place. The sandwich was huge, and for real I started to wonder if I could keep eating at the remaining sites. I brought home half of the carnitas that night.

Fifth stop: We entered a small, private bar. It was beautiful inside; my phone just didn't capture a decent shot of it. The pandemic killed business here. The place now is open only for small, special events.

We were here for a mezcal tasting. First we sipped Fandango, accompanied by lime and salt. I loved it. Next we sampled some house mezcal, infused with honey, vanilla, and cinnamon. Here's where things get more interesting. We drank this one with some pinches of a mixture of black pepper, salt, and crickets.

Some might think eating crickets would require a healthy dose of mezcal first. But our drink portions weren't of a size that could make me abandon all caution and agree to something like bungee jumping or swimming with great white sharks. Sheila and I didn't hesitate to try the black, powdery mix.

I would have been fine ending the tour right here, assuming I could keep drinking mezcal with the sides, including the non-vegan one.

Sixth stop: This was at a small, yet traditional bar and restaurant named Chile & maíz. The night we did our tour was the start of Carnival. Many people had gone to the north end of the island for the celebration, leaving this restaurant empty for the evening.

The cook prepared for us chicken tinga sopes. Could the food keep getting better that night? So far, yes. The chicken stew on a fried tortilla was delicious. And filling. Sheila and I got a to-go box for some of it.

Apparently Chile & maíz is fairly new. I checked Google Maps to get a daylight picture (below). The logs that will eventually support a sloped roof are visible, but nothing else indicating a restaurant is being constructed. What we saw last night was very well done.

Seventh stop: Jose brought us to Daria's Delivery. The chef is staring up a new business. So far it is a kitchen on the second floor of a building. There is a commercial cook top, a table with four chairs, and one green bird in a birdcage. As we entered, the chef's adorable young daughter (maybe 4-years-old) came out from the living quarters right behind the table and greeted us with a big smile.

Our final dish of the night was chile relleno which is one of my favorite Mexican foods. Daria's didn't let me down. Very tasty.

During the tour we got to know more about Jose, his restaurant experiences, and his family. At the end he walked with us for a bit. He explained how the food tour supports the local cooks.

The tour was really fun because there's no way at all Sheila and I would have found all these small places on our own. It's not like they all had neon signs.

We ended up quite full. Walking around the La Gloria neighborhood helped burn off a few of those calories. I'm sure I'll return to Isla at some time, and this will be on my to-do list.

47 notes · View notes

billetwoes · 6 months

Text

Food! Headcanon Smoke (Tomas Vrbada)

Just some food headcanons that have been "stewing" in my head for our Friendly Neighborhood Wholesoome Sidekick!

Rated: PG-13, mentions of alcohol and "Sex on a Beach" drink

Words: 932

-As an Earth Realm Protector, Tomas had been billeted by different hosts from all over our world during various missions that take place in different parts of the world.

-Tomas is always appreciative of homecooked meals prepared by his billet hosts because he understands that it takes valuable resources, time and effort, especially if it is evident that the billet family is poor. There’s nothing more delicious than a homecooked meal made with love.

-He eats a lot of vegetables and loves them! Tomas appreciates vegetables prepared in different ways: salads, roasted vegetables, pureed as a soup, battered and fried, as snacks, you name it. Authentic Mexican tortillas and nachos with a lot of salsa with juicy chunks of tomatoes, bring on the vitamin C!

-Tomas also eats a lot of fruits, his favourite ones being apples, oranges, grapes, stone fruits, pineapple, mangoes, and any fruits that are both sweet and tart, especially if crunchy. He doesn’t mind bananas, melons, berries and local fruits from different countries and will eat them when offered.

-Tomas doesn’t mind smoothies, but doesn’t normally consume this, since they weren’t available during his time in the Lin Kuei, and currently in the Shirai Ryu.

-Tomas’ favorite thing to eat is stew. It reminds him of his childhood days as a hunter, as his mother often cooked stews for him and his sister. Got a pot roast in the slow cooker, he’s game! Make sure that there are a ton of veggies in that Crockpot, and he’ll appreciate that. Happen to have a large Dutch oven of Osso Bucco in the oven, he’s inwardly drooling and counting the minutes until he can get his mitts on a bowlful of that tender beef shank on top of creamy polenta and topped with gremolata! Got some chicken or pork adobo and rice, he’ll take seconds! Got a big bowl of Caldo de Res (yes, I know it’s a soup), it’s gone in no time. In a mood for some comfort food, he’ll gladly accept a bowl of scouse made with lamb. Got butter chicken on coconut rice, yes, please! :D

-If a billet host can or is well off, Tomas loves being treated to different restaurants. If a billet host has recommendations and is enthusiastic to take him to a popular spot, Tomas is always happy and appreciative to go with. From a popular hole-in-a-wall noodle shop to a lively gastropub on a game night to a Michelin Star restaurant in an upscale part of downtown, he loves being exposed to different culinary experiences. Tomas always has a great time bonding with his billet families this way, and they always enjoy hearing about his stories and adventures.

-Tomas won’t eat anything that isn’t well-cooked or under cooked, not out of rudeness but for his own safety. If there is anything that is pungent in a bad way, he’ll try it once in small quantities, but that’s it. If an animal that is being butchered is illegally acquired and slaughtered in an inhumane way, Tomas wants nothing to do with it.

-It only takes only a few occurrences for Tomas to learn to have a sack of snacks or MRE’s, courtesy of Johnny Cage’s connection with the US army.

-Just because Tomas must keep a certain physique doesn’t mean that he can’t enjoy any foods and beverages that are “less” healthy. Having been to different parts of the world has made him acquainted to the popular fun foods. If he’s in Canada, he must have some poutine with those squeaky cheese curds! If he’s in the Southern US, bring on the fried chicken with biscuits and gravy! If he’s in a Southeast Asian country, the street food offers a ton of options: try the fish balls on sticks, various fresh seafood cooked fresh, and shaved ice desserts, to name a few! If he’s in the Middle East or in the Balkan region, Baklava is a must!

-Tomas can generally hold his liquor and knows his limits. His alcoholic beverage of choice is beer, specifically the beloved pilsner. It must be the Czech in him or the fact that men can generally metabolize alcohol faster, or both, that he’s able to put away a lot of beer. In fact, Tomas is one of the few that can out drink most of the Earth Realm protectors.

-If Tomas is offered wine or Prosecco with some dinners, he will accept 2-3 glasses. He rarely drinks hard liquor, but if with a culture where it is customary and polite to accept a drink from a billet host, he will. He’s had quite a few tequila shots in his life.

-At one point, Tomas had been curious about Jello Shots at one point. Tomas enjoys them if he’s with younger members of billet families that offer them, especially when he can enjoy the more adventurous drinks like Sex on a Beach, Long Island, AMF (Ooof!), Ceasar, and other creative concoctions with no names. Tomas has also taken a liking to Baileys, by itself or in hot chocolate.

-Tomas has a sweet tooth. Ice cream, gelato, and popsicles are consumed in large quantities. He likes mini fruit tarts and cakes in general, especially Japanese sponge cakes with strawberries and light whipped icing. Anything matcha will always be welcomed, be it as tea, in cakes, ice creams, and anything creatively sweet.

-Tomas loves chocolate bars and protein bars. He also loves cookies and Nutella on fresh bannock. Have options of snacks in a basket, and that completes his billeting experience with you :D

#tomas vrbada #mk1 tomas vrbada #mk1 smoke #smoke #mortal kombat #mk1 earthrealm #mk1 #food #foodie

28 notes · View notes

ms-nesbit · 1 year

Text

Sugar and Spice

a jason todd x reader fanfic

Rating: 18+ (minors dni)

word count: 5.4k

warnings/notes: mention of trauma and abuse, Jason Todd isn't Red Hood, explicit content, smut, panic attack

summary: jason is a baker with cake, and y/n a horticulturist with a chance to sow her wild oats.

AO3

“And would you like that for here or to go?”

The streets of Gotham buzzed with citizens despite the imminent crime, visitors entering and leaving famous Zia’s, a bakery home to Gotham’s finest breads and pastry sweets. Inside the confined space displayed an array of baked goods, its floor littered with customers clutching their tong and red plastic tray.

In a rouge apron dusted with crumbs and splotches of icing and egg, Jason tended to the confectionery inventory, carrying a large metal pan holding marranitos (Mexican cookies baked in the shape of a pig) on one hand, and a smaller metal pan containing sourdough bread on his other. The dark, robust waft of molasses and ginger filled the air, catching the attention of some of Zia’s more loyal patrons.

“That fresh?!” one blurted.

Jason vaguely smiled behind him before attending to replacing the pan on its designated shelf. “Always.”

As much as Zia’s advertised its pastries, certain Gothamites - single ones with more time than they should have been allotted - spread merry news of eye candy in the shop, drawing more attention than Zia’s owner, Aurelio, expected.

One, a man named Ed, passed a whisper to y/n, who worked nearby at the Gotham Nursery as a horticulturist: “You know, y/n, if you’re ever looking for a snack for your sweet tooth, you could just stop by.”

His expression faltered, as if he was holding something back, but y/n disregarded it as she loaded his plants onto the trunk of his 4x4, and sent him on his way with a brief, “I’ll be sure. As always, thank you for coming, Eddie.”

She hadn’t given the recommendation much thought until on her lunch, when she stopped by Zia’s and stepped into the bumbling bluster of business. Then, as Jason emerged from the kitchen of the bakery with hands full of crumbly tricolor polvorones and loaves of rye bread, his bottom lip tucked in between his teeth in concentration and tee shirt sleeves rising up just enough for all to see his toned biceps, y/n understood Ed’s undertones.

“Excuse me.” a voice from behind snapped y/n’s attention, causing her to turn around to a stern, tight-lipped woman blinking at her. “Would you mind moving over so I could go in there?” she pointed to the shelves y/n blocked, her question seeming more of a kind demand rather than an inquiry.

Nodding feverishly as she stepped aside, y/n bumped into a sturdy tall figure, a string of apologies leaving her lips before her eyes met a pair of hazel, a mix of greens and grays swimming in his irises.

“I’m-I’m so, so, sorry.” y/n was captivated, distracted by the baker’s face shape as he stared down at her with an understanding grin.

“It’s okay, it happens all the time.” the man swiped loose sugar granules from his apron, prompting y/n to take her gaze away from his face and onto the mess of cinnamon sugar on the floor.

“Oh, jeez, do you need me to—”

The man waved a hand in y/n’s direction to calm her down. “Again, it happens a lot. Are you new here?” He used his free arm to catch Aurelio’s attention, who passed him a broom and dustpan to begin cleaning the faint piles of sugar.

Y/n shook her head. “Yeah, I’m not used to this kind of foot traffic.” She squatted on the ground and helped collect particles off the ground with her hands.

Brushing her pile into the maroon dustpan, he glanced at her work uniform. “I didn’t know that Gotham had a botanical garden.” He looked at y/n, his thick, pearl strands of hair falling from his hair net. Y/n felt the stare, and had to bow her head to hide the passing blush tickling her skin.

“You should stop by sometime.” Y/n shrugged when she and the man stood on their feet, disregarding the crowd staggering impatiently around them. “I could analyze your soil’s pH, or even recommend some plants depending on your living situation.”

Y/n watched the man’s adam’s apple bob before he spoke. “And what about a five-hundred square feet flat?”

“There are ways to accommodate the situation if you’re willing. It just takes the right pair of hands and mindset.” y/n gave the man a smile, to which he reciprocated, his soft skin forming ripples from it.

She swallowed the warmth she felt in her stomach, an unfamiliar sensation she whisked away as she followed the man to the checkout counter. His back turned to her, y/n was able to take in his other features: his broad shoulders, appearing almost heavy on his torso, and the merlot tee shirt lazily tucked under the waistband of his washed jeans, which were partially ripped along parts of his left knee and right ankle. Y/n blinked away her urge to follow the natural curvature of his legs up to his ass, though she would admit that her id was pleased with the crumbs of image it viewed.

“Do you think you could show me what I could do? Doc has told me that I need to, uh, spruce up my space.” The man rested his hands on the counter, marginally leaning over it to inch closer to y/n in flirtation.

Y/n couldn’t meet his hazel eyes, unwilling to be enchanted by whatever undertones he was trying to communicate; though, to her dismay, he did attract her, even with the hair net clumping his seemingly soft hair in place, and the poorly executed pun. So she obliged, just a bit. “I work today till six, if you’re able.” one of her shoulders bounced, as if she felt apathetic about his advances.

But he, unbeknownst to y/n, was stubborn. “I can manage.” he wrinkled his nose playfully at her, eyes flickering between her blank stare and her suppressed grin. “My name is Jason, by the way.”

Jason. Like the killer. “Nice to meet you. Here’s the address.” y/n slid a business card across the counter in Jason’s direction, back beginning to turn. “I’ll see you there.”

“Wait, I didn’t catch your name.” Jason called out across the store to her, unbothered by the several customers stopping to look for y/n.

With a hand to the door handle, pushing the heavy door open, y/n looked over her shoulder, said flatly, “I guess you’ll have to find out.” and left with a few strides, disappeared from Jason’s sight.

“I’m gonna find out alright.” Jason murmured, a corner of his lips turning into a grin.

—

The Gotham Nursery began winding down in visitors, employees cloaking its temperature-sensitive annuals with thick tarp as they prepared for the chilly night ahead. Y/n checked her watch, then the nursery’s entrance, a habit she built as the day passed. Was I too passive? She thought as she hauled mulch across the store lot. Did he forget about me? She mused as she jotted down plant observations in the greenhouse.

Y/n indulged the information about her encounter with Jason to her coworker, Xoe, who was more than enthused about it. Each passing hour, Xoe would cross paths with y/n, bugging her about whether or not she had seen Jason.

It wasn’t until five minutes until closing when Jason arrived, parking his sleek, rumbling motorcycle in a compact spot. A couple of the employees noticed him, and rolled their eyes in frustration, mistakenly thinking that he was a customer, not y/n’s visitor.

Y/n locked herself in the nursery’s greenhouse with her choi sum mustard leaves, using a dainty stick to lift the heavy leaves of the plant. She wrote down the subtle changes in the plant’s behavior, noting the thickness of the leaves after incorporating iron-rich soil.

“Y/n?” Xoe asked, peeking through the polycarbonate door, evoking y/n to look up from her work. “Someone named Jared is here to see you.” Xoe then gave y/n a wink, intentionally mistaking Jason’s name.

“Sure, he can come in. Thanks, Xoe.”

“No problem.” Xoe said, opening the door fully for Jason to allow entry, before throwing y/n a suggestive look and shutting the door.

Distracted by the array of plants both on the ground and overhead, Jason tread carefully through the path of the greenhouse. He raked his fingers through his hair as he stopped to observe the vine dangling from a hanging planter, avoiding touching it in fear that he would somehow kill the plant. Y/n gawped at his actions, amused by the conscientiousness of his every move in spite of his tall, muscular frame.

Jason, appearing diverted, used his peripherals to glance at y/n, who sat on a wooden chair on the other side of the greenhouse. Her attire was similar to their first encounter, except she rolled up the sleeves of her forest long-sleeved top, and wore patterned leather gardening gloves. He admired the contrast of her head to the overhead vines coming down around her, the hearty heart-shaped leaves forming a convex halo. She was breathtaking in her relaxed state, and it was clear to him that the greenhouse was a sanctuary, a treehouse she escaped to when she sought solace.

“Didn’t think you’d make it, Jason.” y/n held her notebook and pen in her hands as she spoke, still working at her scientific examination notes.

“Uh, yeah,” Jason mumbled, peering at a distant crimson flower in bloom. “I had to clean up after close. This is where you work?” He looked up at the opaque ceiling of the greenhouse, in awe of the varieties of plants with which he surrounded himself.

Y/n nodded. “Most of the time, yeah. It’s my job to basically make sure the plants are at an optimal growing point so that we could use the info to pass on to customers or vendors.”

Jason sensed the formality in her tone, humbling his ego before he returned, “And you like it?”

Y/n crossed her arms at the question, obviously peeved. “Of course. I don’t know why I would be here, or go through all the schooling, if I didn’t.”

Jason pressed his lips together, remorseful of the offense she took at his inquiry. “Sorry, I should have figured.”

“No, I…I get it all the time, honestly. People are so surprised when I tell them I like it, as if it’s some boring thing.” Y/n rambled, full of thought as she flipped through vague memories of conversations she had with others. “I’ve always loved nature, but not aesthetically, if that makes sense. It’s a science to keep these plants alive and thriving after all the damage we’ve done, and I don’t think I have to keep justifying it.” she clicked her tongue at the end of her statement, eyes looking off to the side in vexation.

Jason rubbed the back of his neck in discomfort. “I get the same comments about my baking. I mean, don’t get me wrong - it’s not nearly as lengthy as the schooling you went through - but I find happiness punching the fuck out of air bubbles in the dough.”

The joke emitted a chuckle from y/n, breaking the tension in the space that could have been otherwise excused by the high humidity. Humor was a strength of Jason’s, and he used it to his advantage in times like these when he found his foot in his mouth, or his tongue in a knot. He wanted to start over, rerun his words smoothly through his head so he could properly express himself without offending y/n again.

Instead, he offered baguettes. “I brought something we could both have in here, if we can have it.” he pointed to the backpack strap on his shoulder, and began to maneuver his backpack to his hands so he could unveil the crispy logs of cooked dough. He handed one baguette to y/n, who removed her gloves to accept the gift, before he took a bite out of one himself.

“You make these?” y/n asked, chewing on a piece. Mouth full of bread, Jason simply nodded. “I have to say, as much as I like plants, I think I would gain a lot of weight if I could bake this well.”

The compliment made Jason beam, squirreling chewed bread in his mouth causing his cheeks to round. After he swallowed, he responded, “Yeah, I get that a lot. Though I don’t think you’d look any bit different with more.” his eyes scanned y/n’s body evocatively.

Y/n’s cheeks tinted, covering her mouth respectfully as she spoke. “It’s really fresh for stale bread.” she gestured to an empty seat beside her. “You wanna sit here?”

Jason shook his head, plopping himself down on the seat before he turned his body to face her. “Oh, I made it before I left.” Jason remarked nonchalantly, taking another bite out of the bread.

Y/n stared at Jason as he ate his workmanship, giggling at him. He gave her a doe-eyed expression, confused by her mirth. “What?”

“Nothing, I’ve just never seen someone so passionate about eating bread.” Her eyes gleamed at him, smile radiant as she spoke. Jason’s chest burned when she passed him the look, mesmerized by her appearance. He grew accustomed to the constant comments about his looks from Gothamites - and the unfortunate harassment or assault that would take place by a select few - but he followed his instinct when he felt something different about y/n; whether it was the way she presented herself, or the way her eyes shaped into crescents as she smiled, he was absolutely enamored by her, and wanted to explore all that made her content so he could replicate it for her.

They sat together, knee to knee, gazing at each other. Y/n placed her bread on the table and her hands on her lap, drawing Jason’s attention away from her face. His eyes snapped up, though, unwilling to be perceived as perverted, or his intentions impure. Y/n suppressed her temptation to cave in to him, fingernails digging into the skin of her thighs as she desperately tried to keep them to herself.

But his skin was as firm as his voice, five o’clock shadow scattered across his cheeks and jawline; his skin creased as he grinned, even the slightest, a wrinkle forming along the edges of his mouth. Y/n wondered what his lips tasted like - were they as tender as they appeared? Or were his kisses all-encompassing, conveying what words couldn’t describe?

Y/n wanted to find out, but she hesitated: she didn’t want to hurt again; she didn’t want to wither at her roots like the neglected plants she studied, slumping over in her seat as she felt the remaining cells in her body seize. Had the encounter with Jason been years ago, y/n would have already been all over him, straddling his lap - she was much more daring then, naive of the darkness that could ensue.

Instead, she glued her hands to herself. Jason noticed her stare plummet from joyous to cold, her eyes glossy as she blinked away what dark thoughts laid behind them. He placed a hand over hers, thumb stroking the underside of her palm in an attempt to bring her back to the present.

“Sorry.” her voice sobered up, ignoring the display of affection Jason committed.

Shaking his head once, he responded, “Am I doing something wrong? I’ll scoot my chair back and keep my hand away if you want—”

“No, no.” y/n hastily said, unaware of what she presented with her response. “It’s not you, don’t worry.”

“Is it okay if I kiss you?”

The question caused y/n’s heart to rise, excited by the thought. She nodded and leaned forward, cupping his neck as they closed the gap between them and pressed their lips together softly, y/n’s nose filling with a mixture of the leather of his jacket and clean yeast from the bread. Jason instinctively brought his hands to y/n’s face, holding it as he sharply inhaled into the kiss. He was pleasantly surprised by the action, parting his lips as he wanted to deepen the kiss.

But y/n pulled away, and then turned her body from Jason, attempting to conceal the blush creeping up her neck.

Initially worried about crossing a boundary with y/n, Jason noticed the tint in her skin, and grinned, cupping her chin and turning her head to look at him. “You don’t need to hide from me, hun. I don’t know what you went through, but I won’t hurt you like that.” he assured y/n, tone warm and disarming. His thumb brushed her cheek, eyes distracted by her beauty.

“It’s y/n.” she informed him distractedly. “Sorry, I forgot to tell you.”

“Y/n.” he repeated, captivated by her eyes as she grinned softly at him. “I can make you a pinky promise that I won’t be a threat, but I’m not sure if a ten year-old’s logic resonates with you.”

It did. Y/n held her pinky out in between them. “I need something to ground me.”

Jason linked their pinkies, pulling them to his chest. “Y/n: I swear I won’t hurt you. Pinky promise.” y/n’s eyes searched for his other hand, which laid on his knee. No crossed fingers. Good.

“Can we go back to kissing please?” her brows furrowed, slightly embarrassed by her request. It was Jason’s turn to answer with a kiss, this time heated and impatient. His lips nibbled on hers before dragging a tongue along her bottom lip, evoking a moan from y/n. Jason’s hand held y/n’s as they deepened their kiss, mouths opening in an attempt for Jason to draw another moan from her. He used his free hand to tangle in y/n’s hair, pulling her closer than she already was.

When y/n mimicked his actions, she tugged lightly at his hair, causing him to groan and shiver. She tore her lips from Jason’s, noticing how his were already swollen despite the little contact she had with them. “You like that?” She quirked a brow.

“A little more than I should.” Jason smirked back, biting his bottom lip. He hissed when y/n tugged at his hair again, this time harder and deliberate. “Keep that up, doll, and I’ll have you bent over on this table.”

Y/n chuckled, allowing her id to take over. “Oh really? And what else would I have to do to be blessed with that opportunity?”

“I don’t think you want to know.” Jason pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, biting down hard. His eyes ran over y/n’s body slowly, taking in the view as y/n uncrossed her legs. He wondered if he should just take her here - an image of y/n in pleasure, her brows knitted and mouth agape, clouded Jason’s attention, blood rushing to his dick. It took a moment for him to notice that y/n’s hand was trembling in his hair, and when he did acknowledge it, the corrupt thoughts disappeared completely. “Are you okay?”

Y/n stopped herself, pulling her hand away from his hair and chewing on her lip. “Yeah, sorry. Dunno what got into me.” she laughed humorlessly.

“You know,” Jason started, hand rushing back to her cheek, “we could just go to my place and talk. We don’t need to do anything sexual, if you’re not up to that.”

The proposition nearly brought tears to y/n’s eyes. It was eons since someone considered her that much - she usually had to hold her ground herself. All she could release from her clogged throat was a faltered affirmation, and she rose to her feet, collecting her work and returning them to their designated area.

Extending an elbow for her to take, Jason guided them through the greenhouse and back outside, holding the door open for y/n as she strolled through. His eyes were glued to her, watching her reaction to all of the plant life around them; he was in awe of how much knowledge she had of them, informing him of pieces of trivia about random plants they passed.

When they reached his motorcycle parked in the lot, his shoulders slouched. “Sorry, I forgot to tell you that I ride.” Ride, y/n thought to herself, eyes examining the vehicle. “Do you still want me to take you, or do you want to take your car, or…”

Y/n wriggled her lips in apathy. “I take the bus, so I think this would be the more logical option.”

Without skipping a beat, Jason offered y/n his helmet, lifting a leg over the bike seat to straddle it and waiting for her to secure her helmet before seating behind him. She snaked her arms around his waist, locking her fingers together over his navel, the touch producing heat on Jason’s stomach. He looked back, waiting for a response from y/n; when she gave him a simple thumbs-up, he turned the key to the ignition and shifted into neutral, manually backing out of the parking space with his legs before taking off from the lot with a thunderous roll, the reverberation heard from miles away.

Although it was y/n’s first ride as a passenger on a motorcycle, she was tranquil, snug behind Jason with her fingers barely tracing what she assumed to be muscle lines along his abdomen; although it wasn’t Jason’s first time having a passenger on his bike, he was particularly cautious, downshifting early and even stalling his engine trying to do so.

Once they arrived at y/n’s apartment - with directions from y/n - Jason parked the bike on the street adjacent to the complex. He helped y/n off of her seat, and held her hand as she led them to her space on the second floor.

“And this is it.” y/n announced half-heartedly when she opened the door, entering into the kitchen of the grand apartment. Jason was silent as he inspected the decor, stopping occasionally at framed anatomical prints of plants. As he wandered into the living room, he spotted a wooden tube radio resting on the nightstand beside the couch. He observed its specifications, murmuring incoherently as he studied the device.

“You like it?” Y/n asked, handing Jason a can of sparkling water before she sat down on the leather couch.

Jason nodded. “I haven’t seen one of these in forever. Makes me feel kind of nostalgic, to be honest.”

Y/n tucked her legs under her knees, taking a sip from her can. “That’s why I bought it. M’not much of an audiophile, but I like the crisp sound of these. Plus, usually when guys are over, they think I’m some old lady, and eventually leave me alone.” Her final comment made her chuckle, and Jason grin.

“I guess we’re both old.” he added, winking back at her. Y/n patted the empty space beside her, offering him to sit. “Do you listen to a lot of music on here, or just the AM talk shows?”

Y/n’s smile widened. “A bit of both. If I have the free time, I prefer podcasts or audiobooks, which I can project through there, but y’know.”

“But what?” Seated next to y/n, Jason nudged her playfully.

She shrugged. “I dunno. Kinda gets busy sometimes.” her response was sad, as if she had no control over the time she spent, but Jason understood that it was relatively normal for an adult.

He dropped his grin in response, acclimating to the shift in tone. “I’m like that too. Though I don’t remember a time when I didn’t have a lot to take care of.”

Y/n’s forehead creased in worry. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Jason breathed deeply, contemplating whether or not he should elaborate. “I didn’t really have the parents of the year growing up, and once I was adopted, I still had a bunch of responsibilities. When I think back to it, it feels like I missed out on a lot.”

Y/n nodded in agreement. “I get that. I…something happened, and I basically had to grow up quicker than some other people my age. I can’t really…” her voice trailed off, drowning in emotion. “It’s hard for me to feel normal.”

Hands beginning to tremble, y/n balled them into fists. Jason placed his hands over hers, squeezing them lightly to draw attention away from her thoughts. “Hey, I’m here. It’s okay.” he uttered, lavender softness in his voice. “Is it okay if I held you?” he asked, to which y/n nodded. Jason wrapped his long arms around her, pulling her tight to his chest. There, y/n felt guarded, safe, as if his arms were hardy tree branches that couldn’t be easily torn; she detached his heartbeat, steady but firm. Each of his features soothed her, rocked her back to the present, as he’d hoped.

He kissed her head, watering her otherwise malnourished body; Jason’s face focused on her, a tall, broad sunflower in need of nutrients facing the sun. She replenished him somehow, something neither of them could quite pinpoint, but enjoyed nonetheless.

Fingertips following the veins along Jason’s arm, y/n discerned a wanting similar to what she experienced at the greenhouse. She looked up at Jason, who was already gazing down at her, and gave him a look: please kiss me.

And for all that he could, Jason enthusiastically obliged, dipping his head to crash his lips to y/n’s. They both breathed into the kiss, hands fumbling to secure themselves in their embrace as their kiss rushed, tongues meeting briefly before disappearing again. Jason was the first to moan into the kiss this time, almost a whimper of desolate desire.

Y/n’s fingers spread, palms flat against Jason’s chest as she pushed him down onto the couch, readjusting to straddle his lap without breaking the kiss. His hands slipped underneath y/n’s top, nails grazing against her skin. He pushed the top up to her chest, breaking the kiss to allow her to pull it overhead and toss it aside.

Before returning to the kiss, Jason gawked at y/n’s chest, surprised by her bare breasts. “Holy shit.” he whined, licking his lips. He tilted forward to flick his tongue on her sensitive nub before kneading her breasts with his hands, occasionally leaning in to suck and lick her nipples. Y/n relaxed her shoulders and let out a soft moan and grind her hips against his, causing Jason to buck his up instinctively.

Their movements were restricted by their clothing though, and y/n knew that as she hopped off Jason to shimmy her pants off, panties down with it, and shook Jason’s jeans off as well before returning back to her stance on him. “Condom?” she murmured nervously.

Jason pointed to his jeans. “Here, lemme put em on.” he reached over to his pockets, pulling one out and tearing open the wrapper. Y/n watched, eyes dark with wanton, as he rolled the condom onto his thick, hard erection.

Y/n repositioned herself on his lap, lowering herself on him. She hissed at the contact, unfamiliar with the girth stretching her walls. When her hips were flush with his, y/n remained still, acclimating to the sensation; Jason, however, tremored underneath y/n, using all of his strength to restrain himself from thrusting up into y/n. He craved the noises she emitted, and anything that would drive her to ecstasy, but had to wait. His hands moved to her thighs, grasping at them and awaiting her signal for him to move.

Instead, y/n’s hips rose and fell, rocking slowly. They both moaned at the motion, unsatisfied by the gradualness of her hips. One of Jason’s hands moved to her ass, guiding her hips to angle itself perfectly.

“Oh, god.” Y/n gasped, the different angle granting Jason’s cock to brush against the base of her cervix. Jason’s grip on her thigh and ass tightened, letting out a guttural moan.

“Can I…?” Jason asked between pants, self-control wavering. Y/n nodded feverishly, barely containing herself as she steadied herself on Jason’s chest. He began thrusting up into her in the same angle, both hands gripping her hips as his pace quickened.

“Fuck, you’re so good.” Jason whimpered, eyes laser-focused on y/n. The sounds of skin-on-skin slapping, along with pants and intermittent, pornographic moans, escaped them and into the room. Jason wanted more, more, more as he continued to pistol his hips up, quickly popping a thumb into his mouth to moisten it before rubbing it on y/n’s clit in hasty yet intricate circles.

The motion evoked y/n’s orgasm, her core hot as she let out a silent scream. Her nails dug into the fabric of Jason’s shirt, sharp enough to leave marks on his bare chest, as he guided her through her high. Before she could calm down though, Jason picked up his pace, this time chasing his own high as he relentlessly thrusted up into her pussy. In moments, y/n was thrown into another orgasm, body tingling as she whined loudly into the air.

Her walls, like velvety petals, tightened around Jason’s cock, which was already begging for release. Every moan and word barely leaving her lips was as gospel to him, bringing him closer, higher, until-

“Y/n, I’m gonna come, fuck.” Jason sobbed, neck red and forehead covered in beads of sweat. His hair stuck to his head, stray strands bouncing with his thrusts as they grew sloppy, desperate, frantic for him. “Y/n, y/n,” he repeated as hell broke loose, his vision blurring as he sharply thrusted up into y/n, coming with a loud cry. His hips stuttered, grip on her hips loosening.

Y/n rode the high with him, watching as his brows furrowed, eyes fluttered shut, and swollen pink lips form into an ‘o’ shape. Each profanity that left his lips were a secret he could no longer hold, and she was so happy to indulge in them.

Minutes passed before Jason picked y/n up, laying her on the couch as he stood up. “Do you know where the bathroom is?” he asked innocently, cheeks azalea. After y/n pointed to the nearest ajar door in the hall, Jason disappeared for a moment before returning, towel in hand and condom disposed of.

He kneeled beside the couch, gingerly patting the towel on y/n’s thighs, cleaning up any residual juices that were released. The sight of her wet pussy made his cock twitch again, but he knew better than to entertain the thought, gently wiping away the wetness on the crevices along her ass and thighs. Y/n glanced down at him, heart warm as he finished cleaning up. “Is there anything I can get you, hun?” Jason smiled, eyes glistening. If her legs weren’t tired, y/n would have sat up and smooched him right there.

But she shook her head. “I think I’m okay. Thank you.”

Jason took her hand in his, holding it up to his lips before he placed a tender kiss to her knuckle. “Of course, Princess. You’re a flower, too, y’know.”

The compliment made y/n blush, skin rising with goosebumps. She hadn’t been pampered like this…ever. It was foreign, and the realization triggered a sympathetic nervous response.

Y/n sat up in worry, drawing her hand quickly from Jason. He frowned at her, apprehensive that he caused any offense. “I’m sorry - do you need some space? I can get going, if you need to.”

First waiting for a response, Jason noticed y/n’s eyes darting from side to side, spiraling into the dark trench. He scooted closer, pulling y/n’s head to his, their foreheads pressed together. “Deep breath, doll.” he cooed, “I’ve got you.”

And he did. His hands held y/n’s delicately, thumb brushing her skin as they breathed together in the apartment, his voice shining light onto her focus like a spring sunrise after a seemingly interminable winter.

The words pollinated her soul, bringing her to life in ways she hadn’t felt before. Jason’s skin was calloused, wrinkled, with scarring near the knuckle and palms, but y/n felt comforted by them. And she emerged from the dark trench, opening her eyes to find the sunflower staring back at her with a soft expression and a softer grin to welcome her.

And y/n finally felt like she found home.

71 notes · View notes

hyperref-lex-ia · 6 days

Text

lost of common reactions i get as a mute person

all the following are peoples reaction when they assume i am deaf, the most common assumption

- flustered and lifts hands to try and sign and then lowers them when they realize they dont know ASL

- flustered and starts to sputter and talk before settling on mouthing things at me

- mouths “can you lip read”

- talks really loud at me (which wouldnt do much if i was deaf so idk)

- goes to find something to write on

- sometimes if i type on my phone in my notes when i need to say something other than yes or no people will go to literally take my phone from me to type back instead of literally anything else

- signs some of the more common sign, i get thank you a lot (especially in customer service situations, which is where most of these happen)

- if it is someone on the street saying something and they assume im deaf when i sign at them they usually just disregard me which is actually really nice

these next ones are when people dont assume im deaf, which is rarer

- talks to me normal

- talks to me like im dumb

heres a few nice incidents

- guy asked me if i was mute in spanish and i nodded and he asked if i knew spanish and i was like not really lol (live in a heavily hispanic area so i picked up on enough to understand) and he switches to english and shares about a talk he had gone to recently about mutism

- girl working at sonic assumed i was deaf and ran inside just to grab her phone to help me which i thought was really sweet so i just didnt correct her

- just today i was using the self checkout at a gas station and the guy behind the register sees me getting frustrated with the card reader and slides over a piece of receipt paper that says “tap works better” and i am like “i dont have tap” and o decide to just cancel the self checkout and move to him cause hes got good vibes and he holds the bag up and raises an eyebrow allowing me to have a choice in it which i dont often get. when i am leaving he signs “have a good day” super slow and obviously practiced a lot, and i thought the fact that he obviously learned that just in case this happened made me really happy

- every time someone has happened to know ASL in public, its always surprising how many hearing/verbal people know ASL, almost always because they are CODA

- the enthusiastic gay man at my eye doctor who got so excited when he saw i signed even thiugh he doesnt know it, because he thought it was so cool

- every person who goes “oh you speak ASL” and then immediately thinks about thay sentence and kind of 404 errors out as they realize you cant speak ASL

- the tiny middle aged mexican woman who has worked the store at my school the entire time ive been going there who knows me because i always go there for caffeine and snacks, and manages to always communicate with me despite a couple language barriers and will often berate me if i dont get water with my caffeine or if i dont get food, and who also wishes me happy holiday for every holiday that comes around, and was also very visibly worried when i had to rely on a cane for a few months

- my painting professor who always takes so much pressure off because hes so blunt, when i came in with a cane everyone danced around asking about it and he walks in and goes “what the hell happened to you??”, the most recent thing that made me laugh is we were talking and i was using TTS and as we are walking into the studios he goes “im gonna go talk with Ronnie, give your thumbs a break” and then we both started laughing

the worst interaction ive had

- had one of my professors numbers which happens sometimes because it makes life easier and she texted me out of the blue saying she “had a dream she was at my wedding and i spoke my vows” with heart emojis and i did not know this woman at all and i was like…what the fuck…not only is that unprofessional but also ableist

lastly shout out to my friends who translate for me purely off lip reading who dont know ASL

#long post #mutism #selective mutism #just getting thoughts out honestly

8 notes · View notes