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lostin-thesos · 11 months

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Mami? Sorry. Mommy? Sorry

Neron "Creeper" Vargas x AFAB!Reader

Summary: You find our you’re pregnant in a fairly interesting way.

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy symptoms (esp. vomiting), mentions and slight descriptions of anxiety/panic attack, slight language/cursing

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: No use of y/n or pronouns, but given the context they do have a uterus, but that is it. Oh and some feminine nicknames.

Multiple text notifications back-to-back were what woke you up. You still couldn’t figure out if it was your or Creeper’s phone. In all honesty you did not have the energy to check. If it was important, they could wait a few more minutes. You felt your boyfriend’s side of the bed but found it empty. Another round a ‘pings’ caused you to groan because it was your phone. You blindly searched for it on your bedside table and sleepily checked who was blowing up your phone so early.

The answer was the bar girls groupchat. They were all talking about today’s plans to make tamales. It had been decided that it would be fun to have at Nail’s baby shower. You were getting together today so they would be ready for the party tomorrow. This was the first time they were doing something like this and needless to say a few of the girls were excited. Right now, you were somewhat regretting agreeing to help. Only because you hated being woken up this early. It was a small price to pay to ensure that the tamales would finish cooking at a decent hour. According to the texts everyone was already at the clubhouse, except you and Jess. This info had you scrambling out of bed and frantically getting dressed. You sent a quick reply saying you’d be there in a bit and headed to the kitchen to grab a quick breakfast.

Creeper was watching in the living room eating a niño envuelto (Mexican Swiss roll) with his coffee. As quietly as you could, you crept up to him to try and grab his food. Just as you were reaching to grab it, he shoved the rest in his mouth. You playfully smacked his arm and called him a cabrón. He huffed before silently lifting his coffee to offer you a sip. The second the smell hit your nose a wave of nausea washed over you. You gagged a little before covering your nose and backed away from the couch. Neron was quick to move the cup away and placed it on the coffee table.

He apologized. “Shit. Sorry, Mami. I forgot coffee has been messing with you.”

After you no longer felt like puking, you reassured him. “It’s okay, babe, really. I didn’t even get sick this time.”

You squeezed his shoulder before heading to the kitchen to find some breakfast. You felt him watching you to make sure that you were actually good. His concern was comforting and valid because recently your nose had been extra sensitive. All it took was a decent whiff of certain odors to send you running to the bathroom. This sensitivity seemed to pop up out of nowhere and you were hoping it would pass soon.

Once your cinnamon tea was finished brewing, you joined Neron in the living room. You sat on the opposite end and stretched out to rest your feet on one of his thighs. Instinctively his arm came off the back of the couch and loosely grabbed your ankle. His thumb absently rubbed the patch of skin above your socks, while you sat there eating and lightly chatting. You filled him in on how the girls woke you up and needed you at the clubhouse asap. He snorted at their impatience and agreed to leave once breakfast was over. His shift at the junkyard started soon anyway so it was fine. All too soon breakfast was cleaned up, you finished getting ready and headed out.

Creeper’s bike slowed to a stop in its usual spot outside the clubhouse and you removed your arms from around him. He helped you get off, though it was not necessary at this point in your relationship, but it still made your heart flutter. It was the little things that made you feel the most loved. You put your helmet in his saddlebag and grabbed your bag that had some spatulas that were perfect for spreading masa, as well as your usual stuff. Neron, who had slung his work shirt on already, waited until you were situated before pulling you in for a quick kiss. You exchanged “love yous” and you fixed his collar before finally starting to make your way toward the clubhouse. Neron softly smacked your butt as you walked away. You turned back to him in fake shock, all he did in return is wink at you and headed toward the junkyard office.

You enter the clubhouse through the side door and went straight to the small kitchen hidden there. It was alive with chatter and the clattering of dishes as everyone made sure everything was almost ready. There was also music coming from a small speaker somebody bought. True to the group text they were all here although some not looking too happy about being up so early; Letty mostly. A quick survey let you know that the corn husks were already soaking and the meat was cooked, which were the arguably the most time consuming in terms of prep. Everyone was scattered around cooking the chili sauces, preparing the masa, and dicing cheese. There was a table set up in the middle where you would all prepare the tamales. It gave you an odd sense of déjà vu and stirred up memories of a similar scene in your grandma’s kitchen when you were younger.

You made your way over to Letty, who was finishing up the green chili, to ask if she needed help. She just held up a spoon to taste if the green chili was ready The small taste you took was honestly perfect, it wasn’t too spicy that it would overwhelm your taste buds but it had the necessary kick. You told her as such and excused yourself to go put your bag down and wash your hands. Jess and another girl were working the bar right now, since someone needed to be there to help the prospect. Small greetings were exchanged before you returned to the kitchen.

Hope was moving all the different bowls to the table when you walked in. You were quick to help her set them up in a way that you could work like an assembly line. This was proven to be the most efficient way. She sent you a thankful smile in return. Once everything was set up, you all stood around the table ready to begin, Letty delegating specific duties to each of you. The pairs were you and Sofia on masa spreading, Hope and Nails were on adding the fillings, which left her and Cielo on folding and adding to the pot. As you were about to start scooping when Nails spoke up.

“Wait. Before we start, I gotta ask. Neither one of you is pregnant, right?” She asked gesturing to you and Sofia.

It got impossibly quiet in the small kitchen. To say you were all surprised by her question is an understatement. Why was it relevant? You glanced at the others and saw that they looked just as confused as you. The silence was slowly becoming unbearable. Sure, you were close to these girls but normally you worked up to talking about your sex lives. You didn’t know what to do or say so you just started awkwardly laughing. Sofia joined in but you both stopped when you saw the serious look on Nail’s face. Oh, she really wanted to know.

“Maybe I should explain.”

“Yeah, that would be helpful.” Letty muttered.

“The reason I asked is because of an old superstition my abuela used to tell us about. She always said that pregnant women under no circumstances should touch the masa. They can help but the masa is off-limits. There’s something about being pregnant that causes masa to not cook for some reason. I don’t know much about it,” She paused letting us process. “I know it’s a silly wives’ tale but I figured it is better to be safe, ya know?”

Another silence filled the room while you took in what she said. Again, you were at a loss for words, but the more you thought about it, you kind of remember your grandma saying something similar when she hosted the annual tamalada (tamale-making party). You didn’t pay much attention then because you were young, and thought there was no way it could be true.

“Oh please. For all we know this could just be a rumor some pregnant lady started so she didn’t have to help.” Letty argued.

“I know that, but it feels safer asking. Just in case,” Nails reiterated.

Letty just rolled her eyes and held her hands up. “Whatever.”

You were quick to try and cut any remaining tension. For whatever reason lately Letty had been bitchier than usual, with everyone. When anyone tried to ask her about it should would just mutter “I’m fine” or “fuck off” before walking away. Hope speculated that it was boy trouble on your double date last week.

“Well in any case. I know for sure I am not. EZ and I are not quite there yet.” Sofia commented. She was semi-new to your group since she had just started talking to EZ. She and Nails have been friends for awhile as well.

“Yeah. Creeper and I are safe every time. Not even sure we are ready for a kid.” You assured Nails with a smile. If you learned anything growing up is that there was some truth to old superstitions. “Now let’s get started or we will be here all day.”

Once that was settled, the work began with some light chatter. It didn’t take long for a system to develop where Hope filled your husks and Nails filled Sofia’s. No topic was considered off-limits given how connected most of your lives were. You dished out a fair amount of dirt about your old men, coworkers, and even rude strangers. Although you still couldn’t get Letty to spill on what has been going on with her. Which was understandable she was the youngest of the group, not to mention that her dad’s girlfriend was here. Laughter filled the room after a story about how Neron claimed you were cheating the last time you played Loteria with your nieces and nephews; he was just upset he kept losing. You may have disclosed that some of the cards went “missing” when he was close to winning.

After the first bowl was empty and the first batch was on the stove to steam. It was unanimous decision that it was time for lunch. A timer was set but it felt irresponsible to leave the pot unattended, so a small group was sent to go pick up food. The once noisy kitchen had gone silent as you all munched on your food. There was not much you could do now, so unlike this morning there was no rush. It was nice and in a weird way took you back to making them with your family before you moved. In some way these girls here were your family. Why else would you be making tamales out of season for a baby shower?

Someone’s hand grabbing your burrito from behind made you jump. An arm wrapping around your waist told you it was Neron. Although, you could not relax because before you knew what was happening, he pulled your food out of your grasp and taking a bite. A small gasp left your mouth at his blasphemous actions. How dare he still your food. You may love him, but sharing your food was testing that love.

“Oh, so now you wanna share food?” You joked turning around to face him, snatching your food back.

All he did was grunt in agreement as he also took a sip of your soda.

“Aye, Güey. Get your own!” You bleated swatting his hands away.

He tightened his grip around your waist before kissing the crease between your brows. You felt your face soften almost instantly. His lips were so damn soft. He held eye contact as he took another sip of your drink. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion and he set the cup down.

“Is that root beer?”

You nodded your head in answer. “Why?”

“Nothing, just curious. Anyways I came over to tell you my shift is over and I’m gonna hit a meeting.”

You nodded your head in understanding. You were proud of him and his dedication to staying sober. His presence clued you in that he wasn’t here just to inform of this; he would’ve just sent a text. He was here for a good-bye kiss. It was routine in your relationship given how dangerous his life could be. You just wanted to see if he would ask for it or not.

“Okay. Depending how this batch goes, we might be done soon. I’ll probably stay and work the bar, if you are going to come back after.” You told him, walking with him toward the back door.

“Sounds good. Let me know if anything changes, kay?”

“Will do. Love you, chulo.” You cooed, draping your arms around the back of his neck. His hands rested on hips and pulled you closer. You didn’t move to kiss him, you kind of wanted him to ask. A playfully smirk made its way on your face as you raised your eyebrows challenging him He sighed and placed his forehead on yours; partially because he did not like being called chulo in public. Not enough to ask you to stop, he just knew his brothers would rag on him if they heard.

“Love you too, mamas. Dame un beso,” He whispered. This was one of the few phrases in Spanish he pronounced perfectly.

You were quick to peck his plush lips for longer than necessary. The kisses were just that much sweeter whenever he asked in Spanish. A round of whoops and hollers from the kitchen broke you too apart. Heat slowly spread across your face. You had forgotten there was other people here. You flipped the girls off and gave Neron one last kiss.

The girls were still giggling when you returned. You just rolled your eyes at them and tried to finish your lunch. Unfortunately, you hadn’t gotten two bites in when Hope called your name. Something was bothering her and she was not sure how to bring it up. She was playing with her fingers and avoiding eye contact. This caused a knot to form in your stomach. You swallowed your food and waited for her to continue.

“Since when do you like root beer?” She finally asked after what felt like forever.

It was a valid question, that you for some reason could not answer. There was no clear reason. Most of them knew of your distaste for root beer. Yet here you were willingly drinking it. So, you just shrug your shoulders before answering.

“Don’ t know. I’ve just had a hankering for it recently.” As if to further prove your point, you took another drink.

“Hankering?” Letty snorted, “You sure you aren’t pregnant?”

You all but chocked on your drink at her joke. Again, it took you a bit to compose yourself as the weight of her words fully hit you. Logically you knew she was just messing around, but that did not stop the wheels from turning in your head. Could you be pregnant? There were definitely a few signs that pointed to yes. To say that you and Neron had a healthy sex life would be an understatement. But that did not erase the fact that you were safe every single time. Sure, there was a couple of times where you forgot to take your birth control or were in too much of a rush to wrap it. But it rarely happened.

Before you could spiral to deep, a small ‘umm guys’ from Sofia pulled you out of your thoughts. All your heads snapped to look at her… standing by the now open pot… checking on the tamales. Sofia’s wide eyes and furrowed brows, told you something wasn’t right. But there was no way that it could be what you thought it was. Your palms immediately started to sweat as she opened and shut her mouth a few times.

“So uhh. The masa for some of these doesn’t seem to be cooking right. “It might be nothing, but…” She trailed off.

You felt your stomach drop and anxiety wash over you. This triggered bile to rise in your throat, and you ran to the bathroom with your hand covering your mouth. Clearly God or whatever higher power out there was playing a cruel joke on you. After getting acquainted with the club porcelain, all that could be heard was you repeatedly mumbling ‘no,no,no,no,no”. This could not be happening, this wasn’t real. You couldn’t be pregnant, not right now. Right? There was only one way to find out for sure.

You rinsed your mouth and wiped the small tears away before heading back to the kitchen. Careful not to make any eye contact with whatever members were in the main area. The last thing you needed was one of them to bother you and then tell Creeper. The girls were sporting grim looks when you re-entered. You noticed that Cielo was missing from your little group. Before you could ask, Hope told you that she went to go get a test.

Waiting for the stupid test was the longest two minutes of your life. You sat on the closed toilet seat with your head in your hands, unable to stop the erratic bouncing of your leg. All you could do was think about how there were multiple signs, but you chose to brush them off. How could you be so blind? How did this even happen? Well, you knew how, but still. You had no idea what you were going to do if it was positive. Also, where did Neron stand on the whole subject? This wasn’t exactly a topic you two discussed at length. Having kids was always a ‘maybe one day’ scenario to you, and it was starting to look like one day might be here. No. You needed to find out before you started to panic. Which is easier said than done.

The sound of your phone’s timer going off pulled you out of your head. This was it, the moment that could change your life forever. With shaking hands you grabbed the stick off the counter and then closed your eyes. After taking a deep breath, you finally looked at the test in your hands. Pregnant.

Tears welled in your eyes and a flood of conflicting emotions hit you. You gingerly placed a hand over your stomach unable to fully wrap your head around everything. It was like you were trapped in a dream and nightmare at the same time, but there was no waking up from it. You stayed in the bathroom a little while longer to regulate your emotions.

Nails was guarding the broken bathroom door to make sure no one interrupted. All it took was for you making eye contact for her to know. She was literally in your position a few months ago. She understood the emotions you were feeling, how close you were to spiraling. No words were needed as she pulled you into a hug, softly rubbing your back. The pressure of her belly oddly comforting. And thankfully you were calmer once you pulled apart. The clubhouse was definitely not the place to try to deal with this news. You thanked her as you walked back to the kitchen. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Angel send you guys a questioning look.

“Lady troubles.”

“Mind your business.”

You replied at the same time.

The girls swarmed you the second you stepped foot in the kitchen. It was expected because they were almost just as anxious as you.

“Who knew that masa superstition was correct?” Hope joked trying to break the tension.

“Hope!” You exclaimed before laughing.

“I’m just saying.”

You all laughed about it and tried to get the day back on track. The plan was to let the “baby batch” steam longer and see if they cooked. There was still some masa left so you guys could make more if needed, you and Hope would switch tasks.

You left the clubhouse a little while later. Cielo refused to let you stay and work behind the bar like you normally would. Conversations thankfully did not revolve around your newfound situation for too long. The girls were more excited for Nails’ baby shower, and making sure everything was ready. Creeper eventually returned to pick you up so you guy could have dinner together. Giving him some excuse on why you didn’t want to stay.

Exhaustion hit as soon as you walked through the door. Today had been a lot and it wasn’t even over yet. You planted yourself face down on the sofa after turning on a random movie. Creeper had dropped you off to go pick up the food you ordered, which gave you some much needed alone time. Despite how brief it would be. It gave you just enough time to start processing the fact that there was life growing inside you. The initial panic had seemingly run its course, but you were still unsure how you felt overall. Is this something you actually want? Would Neron want this too? Are you guys even ready for kids yet? You also wondered what it would be like to have a mini version of you and Neron running around. Picturing what they might look like and who they took after most. If you were to have it, would you guys be good parents?

It was a lot to think about, and now there was a deadline, which made every answer that much more crucial. You also had to decide when and how to tell your boyfriend; that was step one. Though that was not going to happen until you knew how you felt.

The rumble of Creep’s bike pulling into the driveway caused you to finally sit up. No need to worry him right as he walked in. A wave of panic washed over you again, but you shook it off. What if he figured it out? What if… Before you had more time to get in your own head, the front door was unlocked.

“I’m back,” Neron gruffly greeted as he slipped off his kutte and boots leaving them by the door.

He kissed your temple before plopping down next to you and placing the takeout on the coffee table. Silence filled the space between you as you two ate. No words were needed for the time being. You were busy pretending to be invested in the movie currently playing. It was entertaining enough and allowed you to relax for the first time today.

“So how was the rest of your day, mamas?” Creep asked. How true that nickname was now.

You tensed up slightly at this, you just hoped he didn’t notice. You took a second to think about how to answer. This wasn’t the time to tell him you decided.

“Oh, uhh well. It was,” you paused pretending to think of the right word. “Interesting.”

He hummed in response and waited for you to continue. You told him about some of the pregnancy stories Nails had imparted on the group throughout the day. It felt like you were cutting it a little close, but for now it was the only option.

One week. You have managed to keep the secret from Creep for one week. It wasn’t so much a secret as it was just trying to figure out what you wanted. Fortunately, a little trick of vaporub under the nose, that Nails told you about, kept your morning sickness at bay for the most part. Unfortunately, now that you knew the pregnancy symptoms hit you full force, you didn’t know what was worse: fatigue or mood swings. It was definitely the mood swings. Everything was okay one minute the next you were either crying or angry beyond belief. You could tell it was getting to Creep as well and it was probably about time to rip the band aid off. That and because you did not know how much longer you could keep this to yourself.

It happened one night as you two were eating dessert in the living room. You were sitting next to each other, but you might as well been in separate rooms with how tense it was. You had gotten snippy with him earlier so the only sounds were your chewing and the game he was watching. You knew you weren’t being fair by giving him the silent treatment, but you didn’t care. Your secret was now creating distance between the two of you and it was time to do something about it. You just did not know how to start this conversation. It turns out your mouth knew though.

“Neron, we got to talk,” you started setting your food down. “Do you remember last week when I told you tamale making had been interesting?” You turned to face him.

“Yeah,” he replied mimicking you, sensing that this was important. Hoping you were finally going to tell him what has been bothering you. He knew something was wrong but he couldn’t figure it out. Which was surprising because normally he could read you like a book.

You took a deep breath and waited for him to make eye contact. It was now or never.

“Guapo, I’m pregnant,” you confessed.

He did not react for a couple of seconds; all he did was drop his gaze to your stomach than back to your eyes. The look of bewilderment on his face might have been adorable in any other situation. But before you could start to panic, he nodded his head a couple of times.

“You’re right mami, that is interesting. How are you feeling? Have you thought about what you want to do?” He asked clearly interested in the answer.

“I’m still not sure, honestly,” you shrug in response. “I’ve been spending the last week trying to wrap my head around the whole thing. But I wanted to tell you, see how you felt.” You bit your bottom lip.

He reached to smooth it with his thumb, before cupping your cheek. His brown eyes bore into yours and held nothing but adoration, tenderness, and love. A smile creeping its way on his face.

“I mean I’m not opposed to the idea. It’s kinda like you said, a lot to process, but I am here for you. I will support your decision either way, okay?”

You nodded as tears welled in your eyes. How did you get so lucky to find someone so supportive. You just wanted to kiss him, and you did. You surged forward and planted your lips on his, cupping the back of his head. He pulled you closer, wrapping an arm around you. The kiss was desperate and passionate. It was like you were trying to pour all your stress, anxiety, hope, and trust into it, while he was soaking it up and reassuring you that everything was okay.

“You don’t gotta cry, baby. We’re alright. Everything will be okay.” He reassured you after you pulled apart. “What do say we sleep on it and talk about it more tomorrow? Huh?”

You wiped your eyes and nodded.

“Sounds good.”

“Shoulda fucking figured it out sooner, with how crazy you’ve been acting.” He teased.

“Shut up.” You laughed smacking his arm. He wrapped his arm around you and kissed the top of your head. You snuggled closer and returned your attention back to the tv. The weight on your shoulders felt lighter already and you trusted that Creep was right. It was going to be okay. No matter what you choose to do, as long as you had each other.

A/N: fun fact this idea has been mulling around my brain for a few years now and I finally got a round to finishing it. In the earlier drafts reader was Angel and Ez’s little sister… So thanks for taking the time to read it. Comments and reblogs greatly appreciated! I DO NOT CONSENT TO MY WORK BEING PUBLISHED ELSEWHERE!!

#creeper vargas x reader #neron vargas x reader #mayans x reader #mayans imagine #mayans mc #creeper vargas

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14carrotghoul · 4 months

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Finally home and getting more than a moment's rest after a surprisingly good christmas!! Between back injuries (not mine this time!!) and rampant covid, it was not looking like it was going to be a good one, so I was really hoping my little tree messages would cheer me up. What I was NOT counting on was having a good cry because of how touched I was by all of your lovely words 🥹🥹🥰🥰🥰🥰

Thank you to all of you wonderful, incredible friends in my phone for being so beautiful and nice and supportive of not just me but everyone that takes a leap and puts themselves out there in our little pink book fandom! I am sending you all much love and a little virtual empanada, bowl of pozole, and a tamal so you can eat at my virtual table bc I'm very much a freak for food as a symbol of love 🫶🫶🫶🫶

@cultofsappho @ghostwithatophat @jroseley @dumbpeachjuice @suseagull04 @cha-melodius @daisymae-12 @tintagel-or-cockleshells @orchidscript @raysletters @happiness-of-the-pursuit @littlemisskittentoes @firenati0n @kiwiana-writes @love-has-a-way-ofgrowingbackward @gayrootvegetable @indomitable-love @xthelastknownsurvivorx @ssmtskw @read-and-write- @inexplicablymine

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tropes-and-tales · 1 year

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Nothing is Certain

CW: Heavy angst (character death); unrequited love; idiots in love; drunken confessions

Word Count: 3664

Other Pieces: The final installment. The first part is here, the second part is here.

A year passes. Marcus doesn’t see you, doesn’t hear from you, and he tries to be okay with that. He tries to accept that he was never a real friend to you and that you’ve made your choice to move forward in your life without him.

He tries to be okay with it. He often fails, and he is tempted all the time to reach out, to find where you live, to accidentally run into you. He knows that’s stalking territory, creepy behavior territory, so he doesn’t. When the FBI needs an art expert and when they reach out to you, he always passes the communication off to another agent. He refuses to cross that boundary.

He goes to therapy. He gets a rescue dog he names Rothko. He dates casually, but he finds the desperate drive to not be alone has died down a little. He can be alone and be okay. He doesn’t need to fall into one bad relationship after another.

He hopes you’re not alone. He hopes you’ve found someone who recognized your worth the minute they saw you, and he hopes they cherish you every single day.

He considers that growth: to pray fervently every night for your happiness instead of his own. For the first time in his life, he’s considering someone other than himself.

-----

A year passes, and Marcus calls home every Sunday night to talk to his parents, but mostly his mother.

When his mother calls in the middle of the day on a random Tuesday, he knows it can’t be good news. He answers, hears his mother say your name.

“Her dad died,” she says, and Marcus can hear the tears in her voice over the line. “Just this morning.”

He sits down at his desk, hard. He listens to the rest of it—how it was sudden, unexpected, a likely heart attack. How there’s no arrangements yet, obviously, but how you’re already on your way home to Texas to be with your family.

“Mom, what should I do?” he asks, bereft. He has no idea what to do. Should he go home to Texas too? Or should he leave you alone as he has been?

“Oh, honey,” she says. “You know her best, but I can tell you: moments like these make all the petty stuff fall away.”

Breaking your heart and mistreating your love for him hardly seems petty, but Marcus books the ticket home the moment he hangs up with his mother.

-----

He knows he’s made the right decision the minute he finally sees you.

He goes with his mom over to your childhood home, his mom bearing a tray of tamales and him carrying a small flower arrangement. Despite being friends as kids, Marcus rarely ever went to your house—you always went to his. Your family was a step lower on the socio-economic ladder, and you had seemed embarrassed as a kid by how much smaller your home was, how much shabbier. How your mom worked while his was able to stay home and keep their house clean and make homemade meals each night.

Your older sister answers the door, hugs his mom. Takes the tray and the flowers with a murmured thanks, then calls your name.

He knows he’s made the right decision to come to Texas to be with you: the moment you catch sight of him, you run straight to him. Straight to his arms.

And for the first time in his life, he’s there to catch you.

-----

Marcus doesn’t have much experience with funerals. Two of his grandparents are still alive; the other two died before he was born. His parents are still alive. He’s never lost a coworker in the field.

The closest he has is the death of his childhood dog, and that hardly qualifies.

When he sees you that moment at your house, he only holds you. He murmurs against you that it’s okay, but then he stops because of course it’s not okay.

He says he’s there, that he’s got you, that whatever you need he’s there for you, and that seems better.

He leads you through the house and takes you outside into the backyard, and he urges you to sit on the steps of the back porch beside him. He puts a tentative arm around your shoulders and you sag against him, grateful.

“No one saw this coming,” you tell him, your voice hoarse with tears. “He just had a checkup. Clean bill of health.” You pause. “They think it was a heart attack.”

“I’m so sorry.”

You start to cry again, quiet, as though you are exhausted. You must be, Marcus figures. Your world’s been upended, you probably threw together hasty travel plans, and now you’re in your childhood home, surrounded by your siblings and their young, noisy children. Now you have to say goodbye and bury your father.

He sits with you like that for a long while. He keeps his arm around you, takes your hand in his. He keeps you tucked against him, safe, and he lets you cry until you can’t anymore.

-----

If Marcus has learned anything in therapy, it’s this: he’s not always the main character of a moment. Sometimes he has to step back, content himself with the role of a supporting character.

Which is what he does now.

Old Marcus would have forced himself into your family’s inner circle, pushed his well-intentioned kindness onto you and everyone else. Which is why it was a tough thing to learn in therapy—because his intentions are always so well-meaning.

New and Improved Marcus thinks of himself as being on standby. Of waiting in the wings for his cue.

At the wake, for example: he stays off to the side with his parents, but he keeps an eye on you. When you seem to reach a point of…something, he pulls you out of the receiving line, takes you to the private room for family, and presses a glass of water onto you.

“You doing okay?” he asks, and you nod. You drink your water and hand him the empty cup, then fix him with a grateful look.

“Thank you, Marcus.”

At the luncheon, for example: he doesn’t get in the middle of it when you and your sister start to bicker. There’s old resentments there; she stayed in your hometown while you went away for college. There’s accusations of snobbery, of thinking you’re better than your family from her. From you, there’s accusations of martyrdom, of thinking your sister is the heir to the family matriarchy.

Old Marcus would have stepped in. New Marcus only goes to you when you and your sister part, exasperated with each other. He only waits for you to make the first move, and when you turn to him with a look of despair on your face, he hugs you, tells you that everyone is just spread thin and grieving, emotions roiling near the surface.

And at the graveside service: Marcus notices that your family is paired off. Your mother sits with your older brother, your sister is with her husband. Your other sister is paired off with her fiancée. Only you sit alone, your hands clasped in your lap, your head bowed.

Marcus doesn’t sit beside you. He hasn’t earned that right, but his heart breaks to see you alone, sealed off from any comfort.

He sits behind you, his chair right behind yours. He leans forward, puts his hand on your shoulder, and you startle, turn and see him.

“I’m here,” he says, his voice low, and you nod.

Then you unclasp your hands and reach one out to him. You reach back and he reaches forward, and he holds your hand tight while your father is laid to rest.

-----

Afterwards, the two of you go for a walk. You’re restless—relieved for the ceremony of burying someone to be over, but exhausted from the grieving…and dreading the grief to come.

“What can I do to help?” Marcus asks, and you shake your head.

“Just being here…it means more than you know.”

“It was the least I could do.”

You start to say something, then shake your head. You walk another few blocks in silence before you finally offer, “I’m sorry about how I left it with you. At the coffee shop. After the Jerzy painting.”

“Hey, no, don’t even—”

“I was mean about it,” you interrupt. “You were trying to tell me about Theresa—”

“And you didn’t need to hear it,” he cuts in. “You weren’t mean at all. You were standing up for yourself.”

“No, I—”

“Stop.” Marcus stills, and when you do too, he puts his hands on your shoulders and turns you to face him. “You gave me the kick in the ass that I needed. I stopped feeling sorry for myself. I started therapy.” He pauses, then adds, “I finally realized how badly I’ve treated you.”

“Marcus—”

“No.” He shakes his head, squeezes your upper arms. “You did a good thing that day.”

You look skeptical. “It doesn’t feel like it was good.”

He smooths his hands down your arms, then takes your hands in his. It makes his stomach flip: all the times he touched you in the past—the hugs and incidental touches—and it was never like this.

“I needed to hear it. I took you for granted for so long. You are…were my best friend, and I treated you terribly.” He pauses, sighs. “I’m sorry for never being there for you. For all the things you’ve done, amazing things, and I wasn’t there to celebrate you.”

You squeeze his hands and offer him a soft smile. “You’re here now. That counts for something.”

-----

Your father’s death and its aftermath…it’s the beginning of your reconciliation.

You return to your friendship, each of you different than you were before. You’re sadder, still grieving—but more willing to speak up, to not blindly follow him. He’s more self-aware, more deferential to your needs.

Back in D.C., you rekindle your friendship. You text each other; you get lunch together. You ease into it, but before long, the two of you are going to galleries together. Going for walks with his dog. Exploring the touristy stuff in D.C. that you both had missed before.

It’s the most miserable Marcus has ever been.

You loved him as a teenager and carried that love well into adulthood. It had been a precious gift he squandered as he chose women like Chloe, like Theresa. You had loved him, then mourned him, then moved onto a true friendship with him.

It’s a tragedy, then, to Marcus—how he falls in love with you far too late. How he only falls for you long after that bright light you carried for him has been extinguished and replaced by a chaste camaraderie.

And worse than being miserable, he’s trapped—because now that you’re friends again, he can’t go anywhere. He can’t ghost you, he can’t fade away. Every lunch, every text is the same: the same fluttery feeling in his stomach, his chest…then the sinking feeling, the sick-to-his-stomach feeling.

Now he finally knows what you had gone through, all those years before. Karma can be cruel in her neat simplicity, Marcus finds.

-----

Six months pass. A year. You return to Texas for the one year anniversary of your father’s death, and Marcus stays in D.C. He stops by your townhouse every day to feed your cat, bring in your mail.

Alone in your space, he allows himself to wallow a bit. Your home is so perfectly you: warm and cozy, neat. You have, unsurprisingly, an excellent eye for color, for lines, for the art you hang on your wall.

Marcus goes from room to room, checks the place out. The bedroom smells like you, the light coconut scent of the lotion you wear. The giant, ragged sweatshirt you wear around the house hangs over a chair, and he scoops it up, takes in the cozy scent of you.

It’s easy to pretend that this is his home too, that you’re only at work and will walk through the door at any moment. That you’ll make dinner together, eat together, swap stories about work. That maybe you’ll crash on the couch, put the T.V. on and he will rub your feet or you’ll pull his head into your lap, finger-comb through his curls.

He doesn’t even allow the fantasy to extend to the bedroom. He never lets it get that far. It’s difficult enough to even imagine the mundane, day-to-day intimacies. To imagine loving you like that, taking you to bed and being joined to you…then surfacing to his sad reality…it’d be too much. It’d break his heart entirely.

-----

Marcus knows you go on dates. You mention them obliquely sometimes; you pass on plans with him because you have “a thing” or are “meeting up” with someone. You never say the word “date,” and he wonders if you can guess his feelings for you and are trying to spare him the pain of knowing you’re going out with other men.

He goes a single date. It’s a friend of a coworker, and she’s lovely and funny…but the date goes miserably. Marcus can’t summon up his usual charm. He can’t stop thinking of you, in your townhouse with your cat, curled up on your couch. Probably reading, in your pajamas and your ragged, oversized sweatshirt, bare feet tucked underneath you—

Marcus is as miserable as he’s ever been.

-----

He’s trapped. He has no idea what to do other than suffer as he has been.

It’s a sweetly torturous suffering, because he has you back in his life. His oldest, dearest, best friend. The girl who sat beside him in art class, who grew up to be a woman who makes him laugh, who bolsters his flagging spirits. Who gives him a soft place to rest when he’s tired or heart-sore. Who cooks her signature buffalo chicken mac and cheese when he needs a comfort meal. Who sketches ridiculous little caricatures of him and tucks them into his coat pockets, the glove compartment of his car to find days or weeks later.

-----

He resigns himself to a lifetime of this: of being your friend, of never having you completely.

Isn’t friendship better than nothing? Isn’t a half-life better than none? Aren’t washed-out watercolors better than no color at all?

He settles into the sweet pain of this life, and he succeeds for months. The pain becomes familiar and loses its sting. He learns to live with it.

But ultimately, he fails. Of course he does. The heart wants what it wants, and Marcus wants nothing so much as he wants you.

-----

It happens that you both spend the holidays in D.C. It is unplanned, but his unit is shorthanded and he can’t spare the time to go home to Texas. You have a project you’re working on and can’t leave either and besides—the coolness between your sister and you remains, and you don’t feel especially welcome in her home for the holidays.

“We should do our own thing,” you suggest, and of course he agrees. There’s no plausible reason why you shouldn’t—hell, even his dog and your cat get along, curling up together after chasing each other when he brings Rothko over.

You plan a sleepover on Christmas Eve. Marcus packs an overnight bag, brings Rothko. It’s so similar to those nights when he was getting over his divorce and you were working through your thesis. He slept over a lot back then, slept on your couch and woke up to you making him breakfast.

For Christmas Eve, the two of you keep it simple, homey. You make a big pot of spaghetti, split a bottle of red wine for dinner. After dinner, Marcus does the dishes and you mix a pitcher of tequila sunrises. Then the two of you retire to the living room to watch old movies together by the light of your Christmas tree.

Marcus can blame any number of things. There’s the atmosphere—dark except for the colorful lights of your tree and the light of the television. The room is warm, and he’s in comfortable clothes. You’re in your pajamas (and old sweatshirt), curled up on the opposite end of the couch from him.

There’s the movies themselves. You both love old movies, the old black and white screwball comedies and romances and thrillers. Hitchcock mysteries. Cary Grant, Katherine Hepburn, Bette Davis, Jimmy Stewart.

There’s also your pitcher of drinks. You always pour with a heavy hand, and when added to the wine from dinner, Marcus finds himself well on his way to being drunk without even meaning to.

But the evening is a perfect representation of his deal with you now: close, but so far. You’re within arm’s reach, and yet you may as well be miles away.

He gets through most of “Sabrina.” He watches Audrey Hepburn fall for William Holden, then Humphrey Bogart, watches Bogart fall for Hepburn and think himself too old, unworthy. Getting more and more drunk, Marcus makes it all the way to near the end, when Bogart tells Hepburn to suppose he was younger, suppose he was his brother, suppose he had the courage to ask her to join him in Paris—

He doesn’t even realize he’s crying until you look over at him in alarm.

“Marcus, what—” You untuck your legs from under you and shift to kneel by him, your hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

He can’t look at you. He’s ashamed and depressed, and a year’s worth of misery and desire come spilling out in equal measure.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he says, and he tries to keep his voice level but he knows he sounds hysterical, a man standing at the edge. He knows he sounds drunk too, slurring his words just enough to be noticeable.

“Can’t do what?”

“This. Us. I l-love you, and I fucked it all up, and I thought…thought I could just go back to being friends again, but I f-fucked it up so bad and if I hadn’t been so fucking s-stupid, we’d already be m-married. I would have married you, not Chloe, not wasted time with Theresa, and now I’m miserable all the fucking time—”

“Jesus,” you breathe out, but you put your hands on his face, cup his cheeks and steer his face to look at you.

“Marcus, you’ve been miserable?” you ask, and your voice sounds so sorrowful, your eyes look so sad that his own eyes fill with tears again.

“You’re my dearest friend,” he tells you. He hooks his hands on your wrists, and he can just feel your pulse under his thumb, fast and solid. “You…you mean more to me than anyone. I’m just…I’m just sad. That I messed it up and can’t f-fix it.”

“Oh.” You gaze at him; you brush your thumbs softly against his cheekbones. “Marcus, I never went anywhere.”

“Huh?”

“I’m right here.” You sigh, then shift one hand to stroke through his hair, finger combing through his curls just as he imagined. “You’re pretty drunk, aren’t you?”

He grumbles, “you use too much tequila.”

He’s too drunk to understand the look on your face. He’s too deep in his feelings, too far gone in his fear of losing you. You sigh again, then take your hands from him.

“How about I get you a glass of water, and then we can start a new movie, okay? And maybe we can pick up this conversation once you’re feeling more like yourself.”

-----

You switch off “Sabrina” and put on “Blazing Saddles,” and as Marcus rapidly sobers up, he works out how he’s going to escape this horrifying, mortifying evening.

He’s FBI. He could, say, throw himself out of your living room window to escape. Do a neat roll on your front lawn, then spring to his feet, take off running for shelter. He’d have to leave Rothko behind but after his humiliating admission, it’s every man and dog for themselves.

The reality is more mundane. He sits forward on the couch, his hands on his knees, and he mutters that he should get going.

“You aren’t staying?” You sound surprised, and a little hurt too.

He can’t even look you in the eye. He stares forward, off to the side, at your tree. “I don’t think I can stay.”

“If you…if you only said those things because you were drunk, we can just forget it, okay? Nothing has to change.” Your voice wobbles on the last word, and he glances back at you to see your eyes wide, shiny with tears.

Well, shit. Now he’s made you cry. Again. Who knows how many times you’ve cried over him in the course of your life, and here he is again…making you cry on Christmas Eve.

“I meant those things,” he say solemnly. “Of course I meant them.”

“And you think I don’t feel the same way?”

He raises his hand, drops it in a gesture of helplessness. “Why would you?”

“Oh, Marcus.” You reach out, take his hand in yours. “Do you really think I just stopped loving you after that day in the coffee shop? Really?”

He snorts, shakes his head. Bitter. “I would have.”

“Well, I’m not you, then.” A long pause, and he chances to look at you—you’re gazing back at him with the same big doe eyes, shiny with tears.

“I never stopped, Marcus Pike. I don’t think I could if I wanted to. Even when I hated you, even when I very much disliked you, I still loved you. Still love you.”

What other choice does he have? He leans forward and kisses you: the girl who sat beside him in art class who became his dearest, oldest friend who became the love of his life.

#marcus pike #marcus pike imagine #marcus pike x reader #the mentalist #tropes-and-tales

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cricketnationrise · 2 months

Note

500 Followers! Congratulations!!!

Oooh .. for a ficlet . .

a time stamp - 1:30 pm

location - a panaderia somewhere in NYC (maybe https://donpacolopez.com/pages/press-don-paco-lopez-bakery - since its in Brooklyn?)

character - Alex Claremont-Diaz

a song title/lyric for vibes - Many the Miles ( Sarah Bareilles) https://youtu.be/L-0uUSHa8wY?si=oHzEPF8AprRM4fcB

Rating - leaving it up to your discretion

Hi hello first of all I fucking love Sara Bareilles and this song in particular is one of my favorites :D second of all writing this made me want conchas really badly. that being said - all Spanish mistakes are my own, so if anyone notices any, please let me know and I'll correct them 💜🦗

read the rest of the ficlets here

❤️🤍💙❤️🤍💙

1:30pm, nyc panadería

Don Paco Lopez, Panadería, established 1991, in the heart of Brooklyn, New York, smells absolutely fucking amazing.

The air is thick with the smell of dough and cinnamon and chocolate and something about the mix of aromas has Alex’s choking up a little – caught in the memories of his abuelas kitchen. The place reminds him so much of summers and Christmases in Mexico that he has half a mind to book a ticket down there right now, the nostalgia is so powerful.

Through the window, Alex can see illuminated baking cases — almost empty at this hour — and a man and woman dancing and laughing behind the counter, each covered in both wrinkles and flour. He can just make out the sound of Selena through the glass door.

Without a second thought, without any regard for his carefully structured schedule, Alex steps inside, the bell over the door jingling merrily.

The dancing couple breaks apart at the noise, smiles still firmly in place, and moves to their stations before freezing in place, mid-greeting, as she recognizes him as the son of the President.

“¡Hola! Bienvenido a— ¡Dios mío, eres tú!”

Alex slips into Spanish as easily as breathing. “Culpable de los cargos,” he says, a sheepish grin on his face. “Huele increíble aquí. Al igual que recuerdo la cocina de mi abuela.”

“Muchas gracias.” They both still look stunned he’s in their shop. “Estamos horneando para la próxima orden de catering.”

The knowledge that this panadería does catering has Alex’s brain going a mile a minute. He scans the cases, searching for his favorites. Pan de muerto chico, tamales dulces, rosca de reyes, churros, cuernito, niditos—and there, in the far corner, Alex’s favorite: conchas.

“Bueno, quiero esa última concha de chocolate, pero también voy a hacer algunos pedidos de catering.”

“¿Algunos? ¿Cómo en múltiples?”

“Sí,” Alex says, letting his grin go a little wicked. “No puedo dejar que los niños del Refugio Okonjo tengan todas las golosinas, ¿verdad?”

The Lopezes laugh, albeit a little hysterically, as a timer goes off in the back. Paco excuses himself to the ovens with a gesture to his wife. “Mi esposa puede ayudarle con su pedido, Sr. Claremont-Díaz.”

“¡Llámame Alex!” he calls after Mr. Lopez. He lowers his voice back to normal volume as he turns to Mrs. Lopez. “Por favor, insisto.”

“Bueno… Alejandro. ¿Qué podemos hacer por ti?”

He chuckles, visions of piles of pastries dancing in his head. “¿Tienes un bolígrafo y papel a mano?”

Mrs. Lopez’s eyes crinkle with amusement as she clicks her pen and hovers over an order pad. “Estoy lista.”

Alex lets the words fly, making up the order for the shelter on the spot. Día de los Muertos is coming up, and there’s enough kids at the shelter who haven’t gotten a proper celebration of the holiday in a while that will practically die with happiness when he drops the baked goods off.

For his own order, he’s been homesick for Mexican baking for a while. He can make a mean mole, throw kick-ass enchiladas in the oven, even put together a salsa that June said was on par with their abuelo. But Alex doesn’t have as much time, or frankly the patience, to turn out conchas and other sweet breads that his abuela still makes once a week. He orders way more than he’ll ever be able to eat before it goes stale, but he doesn’t care. Henry will at least try each variety, and Alex can always bring any extras to class or his review session.

Mrs. Lopez won’t hear of him paying full price, and Alex can’t fathom paying anything less. Mr. Lopez finally interrupts their standoff with a suggestion of thirty percent off for the shelter. That, Alex will accept—he’ll do anything for Henry and Pez’s dollars to stretch further to help queer kids. Mrs. Lopez still looks grumpy, but she concedes to Alex paying full price for his own order as well. (Alex will leave a big tip when he picks up both orders, whether she likes it or not.)

He thanks them again, setting a pick up time for both orders and leaves with his chocolate concha and a wide smile on his face. Henry and the rest of his family are going to make so much fun of him for the sheer volume he ordered, but in Alex’s defense, he was left unsupervised.

Translations: Hello! Welcome to— Oh my God, it’s you! Guilty as charged. It smells amazing in here. Just like I remember my grandma’s kitchen. Thank you so much. Well, I want that last chocolate concha, but I'm also gonna place some catering orders. Some? As in multiple? Can’t let the kids at the Okonjo Shelter have all the goodies, now can I? My wife can help you with your order, Mr. Claremont-Díaz. Call me Alex! Please, I insist. Okay, Alex. What can we do for you? Got a pen and paper handy? I’m ready.

#cricket writes #bitbybitwrites #ficlet fest 500 #rwrb

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paranoidwriter · 1 year

Text

"I miss you"

“How was Hannukah?” Asked Enid, pulling up some of her blankets to rest under her chin.

Wednesday tilted her head to remain upright even as Enid laid down. Even through Enids laptop screen, she knew Wednesdays hands were probably fiddling with something. Enid just knew from all the time “It was good. Except, Pugsley nearly lit himself on fire when we were lighting the mennorah.” Enid felt herself frown, a slight dip of concern poking her heart. “Oh, did he ruin it?” Wednesday pursed her lips, actually laying down so that she needn't tilt her head to speak to Enid, the two of them now laying in their beds as they talk. “Just about, it disappointed me when he didn't even burn his hair” Enid began to laugh at such a *Wednesday* thing to say. “What else happened?” Enid inquired, feeling her smile only grow looking at Wednesday through her Computer screen.

“We ate some Kugel, and Sufganiyot.” Wednesday gestured to a plate of doughnuts next to her bed, piled up high. “We're not permitted to fast on Hannukah, so my Mother—” Wednesday and Enid scoffed in unison, causing a giggle fit to overtake Enid, placing her painted fingers against her lips to quiet herself. It was, after all, past midnight. “My mother,” said Wednesday again with a hint of tilted lip, “has been stuffing me full of every single food we have. My Father as well” Wednesday moved her new phone, revealing on her dresser and desk multiple plates of food. Tamales, Challah, Latkes, Brisket, Tres Leches, so much food. Enid could barely hold back a very ungraceful snort at the sight. Wednesday turned the camera back to her face, cheek pressed against her pillow. “You should see Pugsley's room.” “I'll bet it's not nearly as black and dreary as your room is” Wednesday moved her head slightly to shake her head, braids falling across her chest carelessly. “Definitely not. His room is full of fish and octopus.” Enid didn't even want to know, though it definitely sounded on point for the Addams family. “I should come over sometime, it sounds fun” Enid mumbled, biting back a yawn. Wednesday crossed her arms across her chest as though she was a corpse. “I agree. I,” Wednesday swallowed. Enid suddenly felt a cold hand grip her heart, nervous tingles resting in her belly.

“I..."

".....I...have missed you, Enid.” Enid let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, a bubbling of a gentle laugh escaping her in relief. “I miss you too” Enid admitted, reaching out to press her fingers against the screen. The stiffer lines of Wednesdays face softened, and she reached out to join hands through the glass, pressing a hand to join Enid's. “Is that dark blue on your nails I see?” Enid hummed curiously with a teasing grin, moving her head just barely to see Wednesdays nails. “Yes.” She admitted, with maybe a tone that lingered bashfully. “For Hannukah.” Enid turned her hand to show off her own nails, a contrasting black from her usual neons. She had put tiny snowflake designs on her nails too for the winter solstice. “I've got my Winter solstice nails” exclaimed Enid in the most energetic voice she could. She was very tired from celebrating today, but she really wanted to talk to Wednesday. Wednesday lowered her own hand but kept it on the screen. Enid pressed her fingers once more against the screen, feeling her heart ache.

“I miss you so much” Enid admitted, pulling her blanket tighter around her. Well, Wednesdays blanket. Right before school let out, they had traded blankets. It was jarring to see Wednesdays wrapped in pink fluff. “I miss you as well” Wednesday said quietly. Enid felt her smile only tilt up at the curve of Wednesdays lips. And before she knew it, they were both asleep.

Enid awoke to a bright light shining against her head. She hissed, squeezing her eyes even tighter shut from the assault against her. But when she finally did open her eyes, she felt her cheeks blush. Wednesday was still on the call, asleep right next to her through the screen. And with further examination, Wednesday noticed that their hands still remained pressed against the screen in a virtual touch. And when Wednesday awoke to Enid's face on her screen with a sleepy grin, Enid knew she wouldn't mind waiting a bit longer to see Wednesday for real

(A/N): Hiii! Sorry I haven't posted for awhile, I've been sick for a while and my home life is shaky. Another rewrite of a fic close to my heart! Posting more soon :)) )

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jungle-angel · 1 year

Text

Early Risers (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: Christmas morning under your roof is nothing short of special

It had been one hell of a Christmas, a blizzard having started on the way home from church the night before while you, Bob and the rest of the Dagger family had gathered at the ranch in Montana to celebrate.

The kids had been quiet on the morning of Christmas Eve, playing round after round of beanbag toss in the large expanse of basement while the grown ups were left to take care of business. That was where the real craziness had ensued.

It had all begun when Coyote, Rooster and Hangman had been sent on a liquor run, only to return with a truck bed containing half the store. Bob, your beloved and most patient of husbands, ran his hands over his face in exasperation despite the good intentions.

Fanboy and his grandparents had shown up an hour later with Abuela Alma taking charge of the kitchen. You and her had the time of your lives as you cooked away, the house filling with a whole different array of smells that attracted the boys quite easily. Unfortunately, they were met with Alma’s swift hand and a dishtowel when Javy, Mickey and Rooster tried to sneak a taste of the tamales that had just come out of the oven.

The kids had done the same thing, imitating their uncles and their grandfathers, though Alma was a bit softer with the children, shooing them away to the basement and warning them that if they didn’t wait they’d spoil their dinners. The both of you however, started to lose patience pretty quickly when Tank, Bob’s two year old Rottweiler sat close to the kitchen counters, pawing your thigh for a little taste of the food.

Getting the kids ready for Christmas Mass was a nightmare in and of itself. Auggie, Nicky, Pete, Danny, Thomas, TJ, Sebastian, Roddy, Tiago and Gabe all complained about having to wear nice clothes, chasing each other through the house and whipping each other with their ties before their fathers all grabbed them to keep them from getting out of hand. The girls were a little easier, but keeping them from getting their clothes messed up? Phoenix and the guys all thought piloting through the canyon on the Uranium Plant mission was much easier than that. Finally, they decided to let the kids curl up in the living room to watch “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” if it would help keep them quiet.

Christmas Mass went off without a hitch, everyone going early in the evening while the food warmed at home. It was so crowded that you, Bob and the rest of the squad all had to stand at the back, the kids resting on the floor for the time being while Father Gonzales officiated. Joe and Irene pulled their truck around after all was done, you and Bob loading up Auggie, Patrick, Deidre and Baby Rudy so that their grandparents could take them home. You and Bob on the other hand, rode home with Maverick, Penny, Amelia and the boys, all of you totally caught off guard by the blizzard that started before you had gotten up the driveway.

Twelve hours and ten million reruns of “A Christmas Story” later, you, Bob and the rest of the family poked your heads into the living room to find all the kids asleep on top of the huge pile of unopened presents under the tree. No one could resist the thought of snapping pictures of the kids all asleep in their plaid Christmas jammies, some of them snoring away from having woken at three in the morning to see if Santa came.

The kids awoke soon enough as everyone opened their gifts, overjoyed at the thought that was put into every one of them. The kids played with their new toys or read through their new books while you and the rest of the squad let breakfast cook in the oven or hauled out the remaining liquor to make mimosas. You and Bob couldn’t have imagined a more perfect day, a day where all of you were together, surrounded by your family and friends and the people who loved you most of all.

#top gun maverick #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #pete maverick mitchell #natasha phoenix trace #jake hangman seresin #mickey fanboy garcia #reuben payback fitch #javy coyote machado #dagger squad #dagger squad christmas

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skellyghosts · 1 year

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NEW YEARS EVE • TF141 HEADCANONS

• Soap brings all the games. Usually it's Uno, Clue, One Night Ultimate Werewolf, and just a deck of cards

• Price brings the "celebratory" cigars for everyone to have when it hits midnight. No one smokes theirs except Ghost

• Gaz is the snacks dude. His go-to snacks are Doritos, Chex Mix, chips w/ bean dip, and he'll even bring desserts (ice cream, cakes)

• Ghost is usually quiet, but he does like the occasional game of One Night and is scary good at lying about not being the Werewolf. He almost always wins

• Alejandro brings the alcohol while Rudy brings food (tamales, pozole, carnitas and tortillas, etc). The two come in a pair so if one is coming, the other is too

• Soap and Rudy get into a heated game of 1v1 Uno at some point in the night. Rudy ends up winning after putting down five +4's and a blue 7

• Price and Ghost end up being the exasperated parents of the group by the time everyone gets drunk. Rudy soon joins them and watches in exasperation as Gaz and Soap drunkly play Mario Kart

• Alejandro joins the Mario Kart gaming after Gaz and Soap play a few rounds. Turns out he's an absolute GOD at the game and beats them every time. The Wii had to be turned off because Soap almost broke a remote

• Gaz learned the entire Spanish library of curses. The rest of the night he just insulted everyone and anything he looked at

• Ghost got on the Wii at one point and played Wii Sports. All of the guys got into a bowling competition and Price ended up winning

• Rudy was the first one to go to sleep. The second was Price

• When 12am hit, those who were left awake drank a shot of tequila to commemorate the finished year and to welcome the new one. Afterwards, all of them passed out on the floor or couch

• Waking up the next morning, Soap found himself cuddling Ghost on one of the couches; Gaz was laying diagonal on the floor with his head on Price's chest; and Rudy was laying on top of Alejandro and being held by him on the other couch

• Everyone of them were hung over. Gaz and Soap ended up vomiting but proceeded to eat more food afterward (did not end well)

• Ghost woke up to drink a glass of orange juice then passed out again on the couch. Price did the same except he drank coffee

• The rest of the day, they either sleep or play more games on the Wii

Happy New Year everyone!

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desertdollranch · 1 year

Photo

Josefina and Tía Dolores are wearing their new skirts that I made for them, using historical reproduction print fabrics by @in-pleasant-company‘s Spoonflower Shop. Josefina’s yellow skirt is based on the one seen in this picture:

I fell in love with this beautiful floral print when I first saw it. I love how well it integrates into the rest of her wardrobe. And it matches the embroidered camisa from her Festival Outfit

Tía Dolores’s skirt is based on not only a similar depiction of a real skirt, but it also makes in appearance in Josefina’s book illustrations!

(I realized too late that the flower print on my doll’s skirt is upside down. Oops.)

Please do check out her Spoonflower shop, because these are only two of 47 different historically accurate fabrics!

I also recently found a piece of Josefina’s retired collection at a thrift store.

It’s her adobe horno (oven)! It was hiding in the housewares section, on a shelf with a bunch of old picture frames.

I made a reproduction of this a few years ago for Josefina, but in most cases I do prefer having the real thing, and I like this more than my version. It didn’t come with any of its accessories, but I’ve already crafted my own.

You can see the hot coals inside when Josefina puts bread into the oven.

Here are some of the other things I’ve made or bought for Josefina’s cocina collection. I’ve got a copper skillet, an iron olla (the black pot), a basket of red chiles, a mano y metate, a clay bowl, a gourd dipper, and a clay tray of tamales that I made with real cornhusks.

#josefina montoya #josefina's collection #handmade doll clothes #doll crafts

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noaltbruh · 2 years

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Hey I saw your requests are open and I enjoyed reading the last Bucci gang fic you posted so much that I wanted to ask one of my own! If you do decide to do this request I want to thank you very much and tell you to take your time 😄❤️

Can I get Bucci gang + Trish with a female petite partner Under 5’2 w/ a small build who’s a surprise glutton? She eats healthy, fasts, only drinks water but when they go somewhere unhealthy once in a while she’ll eat 4-6 plates of food plus dessert. She eats super proper too, excusing her burp, back straight, legs crossed and dabbing the crumbs off the corner of her mouth with napkin, all without ruining her lipstick. If they go for gelato or icecream she’ll get 4 scoops w/toppings. When they eat Mexican food she eats 16 tamales or 13 tacos, chips and salsa w/ a large drink. If they tease her or commend her she gets very bashful and self conscious about it. Their partner is used to shocked reactions but she gets bashful around them because she’s embarrassed that it looks unattractive. If they’re sweet about it she gives them smitten looks.

Thank you so much for your request! Just wanted to let you know that I really enjoyed writing them and you're always welcomed to ask for more 😊

I decided to write small scenarios instead of headcanons, I hope you don't mind! :)

By the way, this reminded me of the time when I went to get sushi and when I found out that "All you can eat" applied to deserts as well, I became a freaking aspirator.

Giorno 🐞

Summer time, such a nice period of the year. The already busy streets of Napoli were flooded with tourists and groups of people hanging out, enjoying a nice break after long months of hard work.

Of course, however, occasions such as these ones were not as common when you're part of the Mafia, let alone, the Boss of it. Don Giorno has always been a responsible person: uptight, mature and dedicated to his job, but at heart, he was still a teenager.

His life pre joining his gang was a rather simple one, aside from...Ahem, scamming innocent strangers, but if there was something one wouldn't expect for the freaky Mafia Don...Was his love for sweet food...And people he deemed as his close ones, especially his found family and lovely darling.

In fact, on those rare situations where the charming boy could afford to put his mind at ease, away from work, he'd make sure to pay back his tesoro for the time he had to be away from her, giving her his full attention.

The two of you were waking down the sea side, accompanied by the music of street players and the sun shining above your heads. As they say...Il sole illumina i belli, and in Giorno's eyes, you were the most beautiful girl in the world.

He loved your petite figure and when you'd rest your head on his soft chest or legs, as he filled your forehead with kisses. He was glad to have found someone so classy and well-mannered as you, you always helped him maintain a professional, high classed image whenever the two of you would be seen in public together.

As such, you can imagine the surprise that awaited him when you went to get a sweet treat together that afternoon. You knew that there was a small gelato stall in the zone you were currently in, it was Giorno's favourite, and the man who worked there would always greet him with a smile every time he stopped by.

"Why don't we get a cono, cara?"

He asked with a soft voice.

"Oh, uhm...Okay, sure!"

You replied, a bit hesitant. It's not like you weren't hungry, quite the opposite actually, you just knew you wouldn't have been able to control yourself, as soon as you saw all those different flavors exposed in front of your eyes. You could already feel the saliva forming in your mouth and your pupils expand like the ones of a puppy, hoping your boyfriend somehow wouldn't have noticed.

You could already predict what he was going to pick: chocolate and pistachio, a classic for him. However, when you were the one who had to speak up and order your own, you just...Felt your usual composure leaving your body, as you just shamelessly ordered one of the weirdest, unhealthiest combinations possible: setteveli, tiramisù, zuppa inglese and amarena, an unusual mix of sweet and bitter, before asking if you could add cream too.

You could see the man smiling lightly, as he handed you over your ice-creams and waved you a good afternoon. Giorno and you sat on the nearest bench you could find, when you noticed he hadn't even touched his own, he was just looking at you, before he patted the top of your forehead and let out a small laughter.

"Hehe, oh my, who would have thought that you shared my same weakness?"

You felt the point of your ears turning red, as you sensed the embarrassment kicking in and the cream already melting a bit in your palm.

"Sorry...I couldn't help myself"

In that moment, however, a delicate kiss was pressed against your cheek.

"What are you even apologizing for? I think it's actually kind of cute"

"Really? You aren't just saying that to make me feel better, right?"

"I suggest we stop worrying about such frivolous things, and actually start eating before it completely melts, it'd be a shame to let something so delicious go to waste"

The shy smile you gave him turned into a huge grin as soon as you bit into it, it felt so refreshing, just what you needed, it had been a while since you've had something outside of your usual, strict diet.

You took the napkin wrapped around the ice-cream and wiped away any sort of stain from the corners of your mouth, Golden boy was genuinely surprised by how you weren't going to forget your well manners even in such an informal context.

"Elegant as always, I see"

Bruno 🤐

Ever since tour first meeting, Bruno gas alzata struck you as a person. He was genuinely kind, self sacrificing, selfless...Sometimes even too much for his own good.

And on top of this, his refined manners just sent you completely in awe. Everything he did, from the way he walked to the way he talked, sometimes it felt like talking to a prince, or someone you just knew belonged to an high-classed society.

And partially, that was true, although a bit different from what one would imagine...Surely, being one of the most influential people in the Mafia was not the first "job" that came to one's mind, when thinking about sophistication.

You knew Bucciarati wasn't a judgmental person, but giù couldn't help big vero like you just HAD to keep up with this image, this reflected very well in your helathy diet and the attention you out into following the etiquette, without ever taking another step.

Or, at the very least, that is what you had shown to your partner so far.

Just like his Boss, Bruno couldn't always be by your side, despite how much he wished he could. He had many errands and duties he had to take care of, and you understood, but always hoping for him to come back to you as soon as he could.

He loved to cook for you and the way you leaned your head against his shoulder, he always thought your small figure only made you look even cuter than you already were, you were adorable.

And when Bruno was finally able to free himself from work, even if it was just for a day. You were having a nice, simple date at the beach, he had showed you how to fish, something he had learnt from his father in the past, and you were now cuddled up in each other's arms, admiring the sky.

Time to get back home was approaching fast, but there was something bothering you in the back of your brain...Or rather, in the middle of your stomach.

You couldn't help but notice a small cafe, not far away from the stone entrance to the beach. Before Bruno could take you back to your car, you asked, a bit bashful:

"Uhm...Amore, how about we stopped there for a minute, before leaving?"

You looked in the direction of the small place with the corner of your eye, to which Bucciarati nodded, smiling at you.

"If you were hungry, you could have just told me sooner"

You let out a nervous laughter, perfectly aware to what was coming ahead. It sounded silly to say, but you partially wished he would have declined.

As you stepped in, you directed your gaze towards the menu, which listed any type of granita you could possibly imagine, while the smell of those fresh, just baked brioches filled your nose.

"What are you going to get?"

Your boyfriend said, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"I'll...Need a moment, you can go first"

"Alright"

Bruno got a simple coffee flavored one, but you, being unable to choose a single thing, thought it was a good idea to mix up chocolate, strawberry and cream, all or this accompanied by a brioche as well.

You sat on one of the small tables outside, as the other gave you a somehow...Concerned look. You couldn't enjoy the sweet, fresh taste of your treat, feeling his eyes stuck on you.

He was surprised, but not because he thought what you had chosen what grotesque, he was just worried.

"Cara..Are you sure you about what you chose?"

You held your hands in one another, after placing a napkin on your thighs.

"Am I embarrassing you? I...I get it...Sorry"

You saw the one in front of you slightly tilting his head to the right.

"Embarrassing me? Don't be silly, I'm nobody to judge you for this, I just...Wouldn't want you to feel sick"

You unconsciously smiled hearing that last bit, had you forgotten who you were talking to? It was impossible he would have thought less of you for something so superficial.

The freshness of the cream, together with the icy chocolate and strawberry felt so sweet, and once the two were done eating, Bruno concluded.

"I'll keep that in mind next time I'll make a nice meal for the two of us, tesoro"

Mista 🔫

One thing Mista would always stand out for, ironically, was the simple and go with the flow way he had been living life since he was born.

Even when he became part of Passione, this boy still enjoyed the everyday things the world around him had to offer. If you didn't know, you probably wouldn't even think he was a mafioso, just some random teen trying to enjoy his youth.

Your dates with him are either incredibly chill, or the most random, unpredictable moments in your life. Most of the time, whenever he asks you to hang out, you can be sure he's going to improvise everything, from what you're going to do to where you will go.

He won't say it out loud, but sometimes he almost feels like he doesn't deserve someone with your elegant manners, like you're just too good for him. He eats way more than he most likely should, doesn't know what napkins are and specifically looks for the places with the most...Questionable cooking, just to see how bad it actually is.

He knows better than to make you come along though, so your stomach has always been safe...Until now, that is.

It was the middle of the night, both of you have had to deal with plenty of missions and duties, and haven't had much time to joke around in the recent times. When you finally got a weekend off, however, Mista decided it was the right moment to absolutely go feral and do the first thing that came in your mind without thinking about it twice.

The two of you were taking a ride on his motorcycle, your boyfriend wasn't following any of the speed limits in front of you, and accidentally crushed against a lamppost thrice in half an hour. You had no idea of where you were going whatsoever, you just wanted to have fun and enjoy the moment.

You arrived in a part of the city far away from your home, neither of you were exactly sure is this area was safe or not, but it's not like it was a problem for the mafioso with a gun in his pants.

You got down and watched him put the vehicle in the first parking lot he could find. As soon as he was done, he placed his elbow on top of your head and smirked. He would always be teasing you for your short appearance, once he even called you "midget". It was annoying, but you were mature enough not to take him seriously and understand that he was just messing with you to see your reaction.

He actually thought you looked adorable, he was just too much of an idiot to tell you in a way that didn't sounds sarcastic.

"Heh, hope you liked the ride, bambola"

"Sure, I hope you're going to like all the fines you're gonna get for driving that way"

"Like I'll ever pay them"

You decided to go for a walk and see if there was anything fun to do, a nightclub to party for a couple of hours, before heading back to your house would have been perfect.

As you were busy listening to his newest idea on why owning a pet pig would actually be a good idea, you couldn't help but feel a hole in your stomach that just begged for you to fill it. You tried to ignore it, as three am. was probably not the best time for a snack... Especially considering what your idea of "snack" was.

To be fair, you weren't really scared he would have judged you for the way you loosened up on your usual strict diet when you would eat outside. The big with the quirky hat surely was in position to tell you to limit yourself.

Still, you hesitated, you've always been used to kind of hide this tendency of your, it embarrassed you, and he was still your boyfriend, after all.

All of a sudden, however, you felt the hand he had placed in your hip as you were walking...Push you a bit closer to the other, as he pointed out to a building not so far away from where you were staring in that moment.

"Oi! Let's go grab some stuff, I'm hungry!"

You raises your head a bit and tried to hide your excited smile when you realized what he was referring to: it was a restaurant. Oh, don't get the wrong idea, not some fancy place, a Mexican one.

"Mexican food? Now?"

You sarcastically questioned, when he started dragging you to the place even before gracing you with an even more sarcastic answer.

"Aw, is your stomach too delicate for that, princess??"

You punched him lightly on the shoulder, before you both burst out laughing. It was in that moment you decided to out your usual sense of decency outside, and show this guy who was the little delicate princess here.

"Be serious!"

"No, no I don't think I will"

The restaurant was surprisingly full of people despite the unconventional time of the day. You sat down at the nearest table you saw and looked at the menu.

"You can always get a glass of water if you don't feel like getting anything, ya know?"

"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine"

The dead inside expression of your waiter turned into one of visible concern when your boyfriend had the shameless idea of ordering 15 tacos all for himself. Just when the girl serving you was going to ask you if you were going to share, you said:

"I'll have what he's having"

Giving him your smuggest smirk, which he reciprocated, accepting your challenge.

"Oh yeah? Still salty from I said earlier?"

"Nah"

You crossed your legs and placed both of your hands on top of your thighs.

"I just felt like it"

As soon as everything arrived, you didn't even have time to blink, before both of you threw yourselves on your food. Mista ended up finishing before you and rubbing in your face, considering that he didn't take any breaks to use a napkin or worry about other "formalities"

He leaned back on his chair, almost falling off, a huge grin slammed on his face.

"I win, but nice try, didn't know you had that in you"

You smiled reassigned, biting into your last taco.

"About that idea you told me about earlier..."

"Yes?"

"Why would I need a pet pig when I already have you?"

"HEY! WATCH IT"

The rest of the night went well, it surely made up for the terrible stomachache the two of you had the day after.

Narancia 🍊

Whenever you felt like things were getting a bit tougher than usual, there were expectations on your shoulders it was hard to keep up with, or just too many responsibilities to handle, you could always count on Narancia to cheer you up, no matter what.

Some would have called him a bit childish, but you just loved that part of him too, his innocence and carefree nature intrigued you quite a lot.

He was used to people looking down on him and considering the kid of the gang, he wasn't as elegant as Giorno, or Bruno, or even Abbacchio, for all that mattered.

He couldn't help but feel self-concious about himself even when the two of you would spend time together, especially if you were to go to a restaurant and have dinner with the rest of the squad.

You could even notice him trying to mimic your body language and refined manners, he genuinely tried to...But he wasn't exactly very good at it. If you ever were to bring it up, he'd deny everything, saying that you're reading way too much in the way he placed a napkin on his legs.

He just wanted to look like some super fancy man in your eyes...When you honestly didn't care, especially since your healthy eating habits were mostly a façade.

And when he found out about it, a part of him finally felt relieved.

It was one of those lazy Sundays afternoon, it was the only day of the week where Fugo wouldn't tutor him, and he always made sure to make the most of it. However, ever since he had met you, just having you by his side made it a day well spent.

The two of you were running down the street, not a care in your mind, as Narancia picked you up on his shoulders to give you a piggy back ride. You almost fell off him a couple of times, but it didn't matter, you were used to it after all.

Your boyfriend loved your petite, slim figure, not just because you looked adorable, but because he loved to carry you like you were as light as a leaf. He'd always spin you around, bridal style carry you...Or, well, what he was doing right now. It was nice to have someone who didn't judge you for your height, he wasn't much better than you, after all.

It felt wonderful to finally get such a nice view of everything around you, but sometimes you'd just stare down at him, his big purple eyes, and his even bigger smile. However, something did catch you off guard: when he abruptly stopped, with not warning whatsoever, you immediately became rigid, already preparing yourself for a possible attack.

"W-What's the matter, cucciolo? Why did you stop?!"

But all worries soon dissipated, when his eyes widened even further, as he had to stop himself from bouncing up and down.

"Dolcezza, look look! That place is huuuge!"

You looked in front of you, and noticed the new supermarket it had just recently opened. You had seen bigger ones before, but you weren't surprised by how something so mundane seemed to have caught his attention like a kid with a toy.

"I wanna get some snacks, come on!"

"W-Wait, Nari, put me down first!"

You said, before you could accidentally bump your head against the wall.

"Whoops! Hehe...Sorry"

As you both walked in, you watched, amused, as Narancia ran from every section to one another, picking chips, chocolate bars, candies, sugary drinks...Thankfully, all the missions he took care of helped him lose weight.

After he was done paying for everything (with a little reminder from you), you spotted a couple of branches under a tree, it was getting pretty hot outside, so a little temporary repair from the sun wouldn't have hurt.

You knew very well that your boyfriend didn't enjoy sharing his food. Not because he was greedy or anything, but the memories of being forced to look in dirty garbage cans, hoping to find anything slightly edible, made him quite "protective" of what he had now.

So, when you saw him hand you one of the boxes of cookies he had just bought, you'd lie if you said a part of you wasn't surprised by that gesture, despite the fact that this boy would have done anything for you, this little act felt...Really special.

"I know they probably don't sit well with your diet and all, but you know, it won't hurt to sgarrare for once, right?"

He said, blinking at you. While you usually tried to avoid sweet food, the smell of those chocolate chips was calling out to you like the singing of a mermaid.

"Hehe, just one, ok?"

"Sure sure, whatever!"

That's what you had in mind, at least, but you realized you might have exaggerated a little, when looking down at the box, you realized that there wasn't a single crumb left.

You sensed your cheeks turning light pink from the embarrassment, when you heard Narancia snorting, before he started laughing out loud, almost dropping a soda to the ground.

You were half expecting him to make fun of you, he loved to tease everybody, after all, and while you weren't exactly his favourite target, it didn't mean you always got away with everything without one of his comments.

But instead, after he was done giggling, he let out a long sigh and placed an arm around your shoulder.

"So you're normal!"

"W-What?"

"Yeah! I don't have to worry about being all fancy dancy around ya, you got a weak spot too, haha!"

You versed some orange juice in a little plastic glass, making sure not to leave any stains on the sides of your lips.

"Well, I suppose nobody is perfect"

You concluded, patting him on the head.

Fugo 🍓

Something that always made you curious about Fugo, was his, for a lack of a better term, "double-faced" nature. His anger issues could be quite...Challenging to deal with from time to time, but when those were nowhere to be seen, strawberry boy was incredibly mature for his age. So much, it almost worried you sometimes.

You could guess that, as he had grown up in quite the strict household, his parents' expectations forced him to only behave in the most perfect, fancy and careful way imaginable. Saying that he "knew one thing or two" about etiquette, as he'd sometimes tell you when you brought the subject up, was an underestimation.

And in return, he appreciated the way you acted, and how you seemed to care, at least even a tiny bit, about your own well-being. As he had gotten used to hang with Mista and Narancia, who did not even know how to spell etiquette, and that would have probably eaten a quiche found under a bench if it looked tasty enough or even if it didn't.

It was nice having someone a bit more like to himself, he was refined by nature, and be was quite sure that, even without his parents' influences, he would have turned out in a similar way.

He was still a teenager though, and you sometimes wondered if he, too, secretly had a more...Uhm, mundane side, to put it simple, that he wasn't really used to show when he was with somebody else.

Surely, however, seeing you show that part of yourself caught him off guard, although not necessarily in a bad way, of course.

The two of you loved to plan your dates and go out together in the middle of the week, because you knew those were the days where less people were free to do the same, it partially felt like having the city all for yourself. When you're part of the Mafia, free or busy days don't really depend on anything, just the amount of missions and paperwork to take care of, which you couldn't really control.

There was an old bakery quite distant from the most crowded streets and areas of the town, not many people knew about it, but it had enough recurrent clients for the family that ran it to keep it open for entire generations by now. You were two of them, the people working then would recognise and greet you with a smile every time they'd see you.

When you entered the place, you were walking arm in arm, Panni could be quite the gentleman, even though you wouldn't really tell at first. You knew he was rather insecure and didn't have much faith in his strengths , and while he was very well aware of the fact that you were strong enough to take care of yourself, he often felt the need to protect you from actually non existent threats.

Maybe it was just because of your look, it was a matter of fact that someone not particularly tall as you would be an easy target for anyone, you couldn't help but think that he worried about you too much, but you did secretly enjoy seeing this more confident side of him, even if it only came out to "keep you safe" when he really didn't have to.

He wasn't one to judge by appearance, but you'd often catch him smiling just looking at your direction, he always thought you looked incredibly tenera, but he wouldn't dare to just blatantly said it out loud, he was pretty shy regarding the subject of "compliments".

The little wooden door swung open, catching the attention of a woman who was standing behind the shiny counter filled with all sorts of homemade pastries and cookies.

"Good afternoon! It's nice to see you again"

She welcomed you. You reciprocated her greeting and were deciding what to get, you would have sworn on your life that Fugo was going to pick something strawberry flavored, he was quite predictable on this matter.

The lady, who had learnt to memorize your taste and usual orders, pointed to a small table for two and smiled.

"We've just added a new recipe to our menu, and since you're recurring costumers, I was wondering if you'd like to be the first one to try it. It's on the house, of course!"

Admittedly, the perspective of free sweets sounded tempting for you, although your boyfriend's reaction soon destroyed your fantasies.

"Thank you for your offer, but I don't think it would be fair for us not to pay for it"

"Y-Yeah, that's right"

You added, feeling a bit disappointed.

"It wouldn't be a problem for us, really "

The woman insisted

"It's a cestino di fragole filled with cream and chocolate on the sides of the dough, I believe you would really like it, young boy!"

You chuckled, Pannacotta's tastes were really too obvious.

"...Alright, we'll try it"

He answered, not being able to resist to the temptation.

"Perfect, I'll be back in a minute"

She followed her words, and the pastry was served in front of you. You split it in two and took a bite, it was the best rendition of this sweet you had ever tried. The cream was fresh, the strawberries were juicy and the additional chocolate only made it tastier. All those flavors mixed up with the crunchy dough...It felt like biting into a piece of Heaven.

"What do you think, caro? Do you like it?"

You asked him, making sure there were no traces of red fruits on your face.

"A lot, not that I'm surprised, this place never disappoints"

"Agreed!"

You happily replied, calling the woman's attention. Up to that moment, whenever the two of you would come to get something in the bakery, you always limited yourself with the amount of pastries you'd get, you didn't want to look overly gluttonous in front of your partner.

However, by the time the waiter reached your table, you had made up your mind. If you wanted to exaggerate for once, so be it.

"Please, you could bring us other...Six of these cestini? We'll pay for them, of course"

"Excuse me?"

She responded, turning into Fugo's direction, to see if he approved of the idea.

"A-Amore, are you sure about this? I'm not really hungry anymore"

"Don't worry Panni, I know you don't eat much"

"I-...Alright, as you wish"

The one in front of you didn't utter a word until the sweets arrived, staring a the tray on the table, and then in your direction.

"I uhm...Didn't know you liked this kind of thing so much"

He commented, surprise filling his voice. You were starting to regret your decision, you shouldn't have left the temptation get to you, you just wanted to loosen up with your diet for once.

"Although...I suppose I can't blame you"

He chuckled, bringing an hand in front of his mouth, this sudden change caught you off guard.

"I admit, if I had the stomach to eat so much, I'd probably do the same"

You smiled, grabbing the first one from the tray with a napkin.

"Really? I really can't see you do that"

"Well, I would have said the same about you up until five minutes ago, but enjoy yourself, I just...Hope you won't end up getting sick from all these"

"I won't...You don't have to worry about me all the time, you know? But thank you for it"

You both smiled at each other.

"You're welcome...And is it okay if I grab another strawberry from one of them"

You giggled and nodded slightly, your legs were crossed and your well composed position gave the idea you were about to try a fancy meal at a five star rated restaurant.

"Of course, Panni"

(For a reference, this is what you had :) )

Abbacchio ⏮️

Admittedly, Abbacchio did not expect to take a liking for such as much as he ended up doing. Clearly, considering the relationship the two of you are in.

He originally thought of your presence as another one of the many bothers him and Bruno had to take care of, in order to make sure you wouldn't act or do something either incredibly reckless or irresponsible.

On the contrary, you soon became a sort of relief to him, as you tried your best to nicely blend in with the other two "adults" of the group. Your way of being reflected, at the very least, a decent level of maturity and refinement to accompany the former.

Abbacchio's table manners were not perfect, surely listening to music with earphones wouldn't be considered a perfect behavior, especially when eating with others. That does not mean that he wasn't able to act high classed, if he meant to, it just didn't come as naturally for him as it was for you... Apparently.

And if he hadn't been forced to maintain an acceptable image of himself, you could swear he would have almost spilled some of his wine during one of your dates, seeing the gluttonous side you attempt not to show very often.

Celebrating the Patron Saint of each city is quite the big occasion in a religious country like Italy, and it is quite easy to guess that Napoli, being the noisy town that it is, would make a great deal out of it.

Plenty of streets were filled with stands selling all sorts of good, from jewelry, to clothes, to food and much more.

Although Abbacchio was not particularly fond of all the noise and people that came with this sort of event, he didn't have much of a choice but to tag along, as most members of the gang were eager to throw themselves in the crowd and the festivity.

Once you got there, however, everybody scattered pretty quickly, all running and walking in compete different directions, leaving you alone to enjoy the atmosphere with your partner.

"Urgh, this is lame. Those guys went their own ways, can't we just go home now?"

The man protested, but the excitement that surround the whole street was too much for you to resist, maybe you could convince the grumpy goth to have fun, even in a place like this.

"Come on caro, don't be so biased"

You said, holding his hand a bit tighter.

"We're already here, we could enjoy it while we're at it, don't you think?"

Seeing your enthusiasm, he decided to let it slide and play along, it wouldn't have been fair to force you to leave, if that's what you really wanted. So, after signing heavily, he reluctantly agreed.

"...Alright, but not for long"

"You won't regret it, you'll see"

You noticed him letting go of your hand, which caught you off guard and saddened you a little. Did he not want people to understand you were together? He did use to act a bit like that during your early dating phase, but this tendency of his had disappeared with time.

However, you soon felt him grabbing you by your waist as he started walking again, making sure you were always close to him. This gesture in a public place left you even more speechless than the previous one, you didn't really understand why he did so, but you decided not to question it and simply enjoy his touch as it was.

It might sound as a bit of a mockery, but one of the reason why he didn't think much of you at first was also for your rather short appearance. He couldn't help but see you as a kid when he first met you, but to be fair, his imposing figure over your small one did intimidate quite a lot back then as well.

Now, instead, it made you feel secure. You were a bit used to people picking on you for your body, and it's not like you couldn't stand up to them, but having someone like Abbacchio to defend you already made them run away even with a glance, which was nice.

And despite how ironic it is, he was low-key scared he could have lost you in the flow of people if both of you were not careful enough. He convinced himself that the only reason why he was holding you like this was merely to keep you safe, not because he liked feeling you so close to himself. Either way, it's not like his excuse was much less cute than the truth.

During almost the entirety of your walk, you did not buy anything, you just enjoyed looking around and taking some time to admire all the goods people had to offer. You could even notice Abbacchio gently smiling at you when he'd see your big eyes getting wider as they fell on a bracelet or something alongside those lines.

However, while your attention would easily and quickly jump from one thing to another, you felt your gaze basically being glued to one of the small "expositions". It was selling a variety of classic Napoletani sweets, one in particular caught your curiosity: there was a tray full of babà, rather simple pastries that stood out for one characteristic. In fact, the recipe includes putting them in a bowl full of liquor before they could be considered done.

Because of this, you were most certain that your partner wouldn't have minded sharing some with you, although of course they weren't as intense as his special wines.

"Don't tell me, you want to get some of those"

Said the Albino. He didn't read your mind or anything, it was written on your face how much you were dying to try them.

You chuckled nervously.

"Is it really that obvious?"

"Yes, yes it is"

As you got closer to the booth, you noticed how there were twenty of them in total, the sugary smell they emitted most definitely did not make you think straight, considering the words that left your mouth in the moment the seller asked how how many you would have liked to have.

"All of them, thank you"

You answered, as it had been the most natural reaction in the world.

"...Excuse me?"

Abbacchio raised an eyebrow at you, but you didn't even look at him, simply handing your money to the other and taking the nicely wrapped babàs, you could tell they were freshly made just by their look.

"Well, we're going to eat them together, aren't we?"

You told your boyfriend, as a way to justify this rather...Impulsive decision. Even if you were going to do so, surely one wouldn't expect two people to share so many of them.

"I suppose I wouldn't mind trying one...But clearly, you can't eat the rest all by yourself, you do realize how bad these things are for you, don't you?"

You felt unable to reply, you should have expected him to commend you for it, but it's not like you did that all the time.

Noticing how you suddenly went quiet, however, Abbacchio couldn't help but feel a bit guilty for his words, he was surprised, that was all.

You could hear him sighing, before an hand was placed on your head. The man rolled his eyes to the sky, but gave you a sympathetic look and smile.

"Fine...It's not up to me to judge you for this, you decide how you want to treat your body"

"Do you mean that?"

"Sure" He added. "I just hope you won't get drunk with all the alcohol in these"

Caught unprepared by his sarcasm, you giggled, taking two of the sweets with a couple of napkins that were laying on the stall, you didn't want to get your hands dirty. You handed one to him and kept the other for yourself, biting into it.

"Aren't you even going to wait to get home to try them?"

"Why should I?"

You shrugged.

"You know that if I do, those guys are going to eat all of them"

As the taller one took a bite from his own, he contained a small laughter.

"Yeah, I can't blame you"

Trish 🎙

Now, Trish was not an humble person. She wasn't narcissistic or anything at such level, but if given the chance to, she probably wouldn't have missed out on an occasion to stand up from the mass, to show her uniqueness. She was quite proud of the person that she was and had become with time, but it was rather...Unexpected, when she started dating someone that just seemed to resemble her so much.

The two of you were a power couple, with a lot in common both physically and personality wise. Trish immediately went over heels for you, she just "loved your vibe", as she likes to say, but even trying and putting all her will power into it, she would never be able to come up with a single trait of you that she didn't find pleasant.

She was a girl with high standards, not a luxury many could afford. After all, it is not hard to guess that being a pop star already puts you in a pedestal, whether you like it or not. But you, despite any negative expectation you might have had beforehand, managed to hit her right on the heart.

She was in love with the way you presented yourself, with your composure, your fine tastes and just your general image, you perfectly reflected the idea of perfection she had created in her mind regarding how a good partner should behave. She had a bit of a teasing side to herself, but there was just nothing negative to even joke around regarding you.

And, of course, she was nothing less than you. She could afford to have high standards because she managed to meet them herself, there was something so gracious about her, it was enchanting, to say the least.

She was appreciative of the fact that the two of you had some very similar eating habitats too, as some members of the gang would sometimes tease her for her "skepticism" and tell her to loosen up once in a while. But that didn't apply to you: both of your diets were incredibly healthy, you stayed away from anything too caloric and with your careful mannerisms, you basically made even something like eating look elegant.

But, of course, your relationship was not simply built about something a bit superficial such as each other's manners, you genuinely respected and cared for one another. In particular, the more time you spend with Trish, the more you were able to see through the facade she maintained being a celebrity, and realizing that deep down, she's just a really sweet teenage girl.

On a certain occasion, in particular, you both unexpectedly dropped one of your walls, this exchange felt extremely casual...And kind of adorable, in its own way.

It had been a couple of months since you saw each other. Trish was a busy person and being celebrity meant having no choice but to move from one place to another basically without any previous warning and in a very short amount of time.

As such, you always made sure to cherish the moments where it was just you and no one, nothing else, they felt so rare...And you treasured them all.

You had no idea she had come back in town at all. Last time you had asked her when she would have been able to come visit you and the others, she simply told you she had no way to know, apologised and asked you to a bit more patient, even if it wasn't easy.

However, after you finally came back home after a quite long mission, you heard your phone vibrating. You picked it up and noticed that your girlfriend had just sent you a message, inviting you to head to the nearby park as soon as you could. When you texted back to ask for an explanation, she didn't answer, simply sending you a smiley with heart eyes.

But you weren't dumb and, not taking long to do 2+2, you wore something nice and did as you were told. You couldn't wait to see your partner again after all this time, and neither could she.

You arrived at the place at light speed and looked around, it was no small park, and many of people of different ages' favourite rendezvous. Soon enough, however, after two or three minutes of wandering around, you found your sweetheart sitting under a tree, a nice picnic set already prepared for the two of you.

"Cucciolotta! I'm so happy to see you!"

She happily exclaimed, getting up and walking up to you, giving you a kiss on your lips. She took a moment to admire your look.

"You look stunning as always"

She added with a sweet smile on her face, before you could even elaborate a decent answer to her greeting.

Needless to say, in fact, that Trish couldn't help but compliment your body each and every time she had the opportunity to do so. She was a bit taller than you, but very much, just barely enough for it to be noticeable. She had always been used to be the shortest among her friends, so that's why she wouldn't have dared do even lightly tease you about it.

She's always loved to get matching dresses due to your similar appearance and would sometimes call you her "little doll", remarking your cuteness every time she'd see you with a new outfit, or just one that she thought looked particularly good on you. On top of this, she had a weakness for patting you on the head, skylight she worried if that was going to mess your hair up.

You reciprocated her smile and greeted her with another kiss.

"How come you didn't tell me you were coming back?"

"Where would the fun have been in that, silly?"

She said, turning around and proudly admiring the picnic set she had nicely organized.

You giggled, admiring all the food lying on it. Everything was full of details and decorations made with sugar and similar toppings, something like this must have taken multiple hours to prepare.

"Don't tell me...You made all this by yourself?!"

"Of course I did, bambolina! It was the least I could do after all the time I had to be away"

She answered, sitting back and patting the tablecloth, as an invite to join her. You took a sit on her right and curled up a bit on yourself, in order not to occupy too much space.

"It wasn't necessary, really...I know that you would have done it sooner if you had the chance to"

You said, watching while she was already handing you over a slice of tiramisù, it was one of those things you'd rarely see her eat, considering how caloric it was, but you did know she had a thing for coffee, so it wasn't that much of a surprise.

"Well, I had fun with it, so who cares?"

She innocently blinked an eye, you were amazed at how much effort she had clearly put in surprising you with all this. Your heart melted a little, noticing how enthusiastic she looked as you took a bite out of the soft cake.

"So? What do you think? Do you like it?"

"I...Do! I had no idea you could cook so well, Trish"

Indeed, it was the first time you ever tried something made by her, you had always assumed that she wasn't very fond of getting her hands dirty with ingredients and such. It only proved to you once more how much you shouldn't judge someone simply based on the way she acts at first glance.

"Well yeah, I did quite often as a kid to help my mother out a little, it wasn't easy to take care of a child all alone, you know?"

"I see...That's very sweet"

You replied in a soft tone. You could see her blushing a little, but she shrugged it off.

"C-Come on...It was nothing special"

"If you say so"

Almost as sweet as the slice in your respective plates. You knew you weren't going to be satisfied with a single, whether because of its delicious taste, of because it almost felt like you could taste your partner's lobe through it, it was like a small piece of Heaven laying in front of you.

You got so absorbed in it, you didn't even realize as your hand naturally went over to cut another one, and yet one more even after that, as you kept on completing the "chef" after try.

You even failed to notice how, at the same exact time, your significant other was doing the same exact thing. Two girls, both always sticking out for their healthy lifestyles and diets, devouring an entire tray of tiramisù together, like it was a bowl of salad.

It wasn't until it went empty, that both of you were snapped back into reality. You looked at the tray in front of you, and then in each other's eyes, the silence was broken by your giggles.

"Don't tell me we just..."

You were suddenly interrupted by the girl, even more embarrassed than you about what she had just done.

"W-What? We didn't do anything!"

She protested, arms crossed as she looked away. You were usually the flustered once when your friends would see what you really were capable of when you were hungry, surely you did not expect the roles to be swapped like that.

"Come on honey, how could we even resist such a deliciousness?"

You tried to comfort her, as she put an hand over her mouth to cover her pink cheeks.

"Out of everything we have in common, I would have never fussed this would have been another one of them"

She sarcastically said, trying to play it cool.

"You're right, I'm surprised too. Guess it'll be our little secret, won't it?"

She went quiet for a small second.

"Fine...But you still ate it more than me"

She added, not looking at you in the eyes.

"Sure thing, cara"

And with that, the two of you went back to enjoy the rest of her cooking, feeling a bit lighter than before.

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orginllazyblog · 4 months

Text

Christmas w/ Ramshackle

Characters: GN Yueme (yuusona), Grim, Mizuki, trio ghosts

Context: Second year semester, Mizuki brought ingredients to make one of Yueme's food back home. They ended up making 50,000 tamales, so they ended up sharing with the others.

Warning: Strict culinary judgment

Also, Happy Early Christmas 🎄

It's that time of year, Christmas is around the corner. The first winter, Yueme and Grim arrived at NRC. They couldn't forget the things they had to fend for self-defense, but with Mizuki along, everything was going to be fine. For once, they were able to have a nice family dinner.

As the morning rises, the heart and spade go to visit their friend as they stop on their track.

A unknown delicious smell

Ace and Deuce arrived at the Ramshackle dorm, the smell getting strong as they knocked on the door, greeted by Grim.

"What do you guys want?" (Grim)

"We came to visit Yuu." (Deuce)

"Say Grim, what is that smell? It's strong, and it smells good. Is Yueme and their friend making something?" (Ace)

"Henchman says they are making something for dinner." (Grim)

"Eh?" (Adeuce)

"I little help here!" (GN Yueme)

"Here you go, Yueme." (Mizuki)

Yep, it was indeed busy as there were a lot of ingredients at the table counter and 10 big pots at the stove counter. The trio ghosts also help as they put the "dough" on the "giant leaf" and then the seasoning chicken, but they couldn't help out as the kitchen was too warm for them. To Ace and Deuce, they have no idea what they were making, but they could tell their friend was in a happy mood as they were finishing with the last batch.

"Aannd~ That should be the last one." As Yueme put the last one inside the big pot.

"Yueme, what is it your making?" (Ace)

"Oh! It's something that I used to eat back to my original world. It's called tamales, a mesoamerican tradition dish. The masa is a dough made of nixtamelized corn, steam with corn husk/banana leaves, either red or green salsa, and for the meat, it can be either chicken or pork." (GN Yueme)

"Wow! Hearing it just makes my mouth water." (Ace)

"By the way, Yueme. Are you and the rest going to finish "all" of that?" (Deuce)

"I might have got a lot of ingredients, but it was worth it. Yueme, we might have to share it with the others as this could be added to the cafeteria menu." (Mizuki)

"Hmm..yes. I don't want to waste all of it. Mizuki, see if we have a wagon to carry out to the Hall of Mirrors." (GN Yueme)

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️☃️⛄️🌨🌨🌨🌨🌨🌨🌨🌨☃️⛄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Heartslybul 🌹❤️♠️♦️♣️

Riddle:

4/10 (ate the red tamale)

One bite, and it was too spicy

He doesn't hate it, tho

Chug a whole cup of water

☃️☃️☃️

Ace:

6/10 (ate the green tamale)

Can handle spicy, but not for long

He ended up liking it 👍🏼

Perfers the red salsa tamale

☃️☃️☃️

Deuce:

7/10 (ate the red tamale)

He absolutely loves it as his tamale had chicken

Would recommend adding it to the cafeteria menu ✅️

Would also ask Yueme for an extra one for his mom

Or at least, share the recipe to recreate at home

☃️☃️☃️

Cater:

10/10 (ate both tamales)

He first ate the red salsa to which he craved for another

Couldn't decide which flavor of tamale was his favorite

Might of ate the other's tamales to those who got spice out

Desperately pleading for the tamales to be added on the cafeteria menu

☃️☃️☃️

Trey:

7/10 (tried both flavors)

Would also ask Yueme for the recipe

Not because he wants to make it for a certain guy 😏

As well for making it for the other heartslybul students who weren't spiced out

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️☃️⛄️🌨🌨🌨🌨🌨🌨🌨🌨☃️⛄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Savanaclaw 🐾🦁🌼

Leona:

6/10 (ate the green tanale)

Tried spicy foods before, maybe even picky

Tho it wasn't bad, so he tried the red salsa tamale

Either way, he likes it because of the meat

☃️☃️☃️

Ruggie:

8/10 (ate both tamales)

"Food is food" finish his first one, then ate his second one

Was in food heaven as he was eating the others tamales

Join with the others for the tamales to be added to the cafeteria menu

☃️☃️☃️

Jack:

7/10 (ate green tamale)

Probably ate some spicy food before

Even secretly eating another one

In the end, he would like to eat one next winter

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️☃️⛄️🌨🌨🌨🌨🌨🌨🌨🌨☃️⛄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Octavanille 🐙🦈🍄

Azul:

3/10 (tried the green tamale)

Weak against spice

Also, chug a whole cup of water

Maybe blackmail asked yueme if they could make more at the Monstro Lounge

☃️☃️☃️

Floyd:

7/10 (ate the red salsa tamale)

At first, he got spice out but gotten used to it

He heard about other students wanting to add tamales to the cafeteria menu, so he joined in

Maybe even threatened the headmage if he didn't allow it

☃️☃️☃️

Jade:

6/10 (tried the green salsa tamale)

Thought that the green salsa would be "less spicy" than the red salsa tamale

Ask Yueme if mushrooms would go well with tamales

"Don't even try." "Oh 😔"

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️☃️⛄️🌨🌨🌨🌨🌨🌨🌨🌨☃️⛄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Scarabia 🦦🐍

Kalim:

10/10 (ate the red and green salsa tamale)

Was happy that it wasn't poison, so he ate as many as he like

His favorite would be the red salsa tamale

Join w/ the others for tamales to be added

☃️☃️☃️

Jamil:

9/10 (ate the red tamale)

Was glad that he wouldn't worry about the food poison as he just wanted to relax for a bit

Tried to hide away the fact that he ate more

"That's okay, Jamil. I know how you feel." "...then could ask for the recipe?"

Both Kalim and Jamil wanted the tamales be added

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️☃️⛄️🌨🌨🌨🌨🌨🌨🌨🌨☃️⛄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Pomefiore💅🏻🍎🏹

Vil:

2/10 (tried the green tamale)

He has never eaten spicy food in his entire life

Got spice out

Doesn't really understand how the others could handle that much spice

"I didn't even add that much spice, Vil." "Then why is it so strong?!"

☃️☃️☃️

Epel:

6/10 (ate the green tamale)

Has eaten some spicy food before

Secretly happy to see Vil got spice out and he wasn't

Ask Yueme for the recipe to make it for his family as his hometown gets harsh winter

☃️☃️☃️

Rook:

6/10 (tried both tamales)

Tried his best to handle the spice

He usually gives 10 10 points, but at least Yueme knows he's honest

"It's okay, Rook. There were other students who couldn't handle the spice."

"Trickster, I would still finish mine to show my appreciation."

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️☃️⛄️🌨🌨🌨🌨🌨🌨🌨🌨☃️⛄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Ignihyde 💀🤖

Idia:

2/10 (tried the red tamale)

F to the chat

One bite, and he was spiced out

Yueme thought that Idia once had spicy food, then remembered that Idia only eats light snacks

☃️☃️☃️

Ortho:

Fascinated ✅️ (can't eat solid food)

Took a picture as he can't eat physical food ever since the rabbit festival

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️☃️⛄️🌨🌨🌨🌨🌨🌨🌨🌨☃️⛄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Diasomnia 🐉🐊🦇🦌

Malleus:

8/10 (ate both tamales)

He was excited to try the Child of Man's home food

Since he is a dragon, he ate plenty of tamales

He did get spice out, but he still ate it with dignity

☃️☃️☃️

Lilia:

7/10 (tried both tamales)

Have tried spicy food during his travels

Was about to make dinner if it weren't for Yueme and Mizuki arrival

Ask for the recipe to recreate for the boys

"Oh, I can do the cooking for you, Lilia." "Hehe. That will be wonderful, Yueme."

☃️☃️☃️

Sebek:

7/10 (ate green tamale)

Was happy that they didn't have to eat Lilia's cooking

He probably never ate spices, so he did get spice out easily

Love it as he ate another tamale

☃️☃️☃️

Silver:

6/10 (tried red tamale)

Was also glad that they didn't have to eat Lilia's cooking

Once tried spicy food during his childhood after Lilia's travel

"Thank you, prefect, for the food." "You're welcome. I can share the recipe, too, if you like."

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️☃️⛄️🌨🌨🌨🌨🌨🌨🌨🌨☃️⛄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Bonus: Ramshackle 👻

Grim:

10/10 (almost ate the entire pot of tamales)

He didn't get spice out since he did eat Jamil's overblot crystal

Yueme was proud of their son for handling spicy food

"Can I yours, Mizuki?" "Oh he'll nah! You had like six tamales. This one is mine."

Fought Mizuki's tamale, then got scolded by Yueme

"*Sigh* That's the last dorm. Let's head back to Ramshackle before Grim finishes the rest of the tamales."

"Say, Mizuki?"

"Yeah?"

"How come the others got spice so quickly? Because I only added a small amount of it."

"Oh...well I don't know? Perhaps they never try spicy food, like Vil and Riddle."

"...Did you add more spice in the salsa, Mizuki?"

"Mm... perhaps?"

"*Sigh* I'll let this slide. Just don't get caught next time."

"You got it, housewarden."

#twst ramshackle #twst ramshackle found family #twst yuu oc #twst grim #twst mizuki abyss #twst ramshackle ghosts #twisted wonderland x reader #twst stories #twst scenarios

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