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#it's either que or queso
hgduo · 1 year
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since the smp is quesadilla smp.... does this mean quackity is queso!quackity?
siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!!!
this is him fr -> 🧀
We could also call this version of the participants que! for short, that one is also kinda funny
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nerynero-so · 7 months
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¡ABOUT ME!
(Eng and esp)
★ My artist name is Nerynero queso.
★ My name is Oliver, I'm a proshipper, selfshipper, I'm from Venezuela and I enjoy activities like: Drawing, reading, writing, playing volleyball. My favorite animals are raccoons and sea otters so I'm likely to say I'm one of those animals (I'm not a bot either 😭). I'm Multifandom, though you'll mostly see me drawing about bsd, VnC I love, as well as Black clover among other animes, like BNHA. If I can help you in any way you can write me in complete confidence<3.
★ OTPS: Fyolai, Fyosiglai, Siglai, Bakukami, Suegiku (I really like any ship involving DOA).
★ DNI: Radical feminists, xenophobes, transphobes, homophobes, racists, sexists, people who make fun of mental ailments, people who are not tolerant and disrespectful, people who say that Aya Koda is the daughter of soukoku (I immediately give them block).
★ My comfort characters are really questionable.
★ Everything here is fiction unless otherwise stated! (Although sometimes I use my experiences to draw pictures with characters I identify with).
★ ABOUT MY SELFSHIPP: I have an Ocsona that I use to shipe it with any character that I like in the FICTITICAL situations that I imagine (it represents me but not in its totality, the character has own shout), his name is Oliver Samuel or if you like Nero.
★I DON'T MIND INTERACTIONS, if you like you can correct me and give me ideas to draw and I will do it (giving the respective credits) in fact you would make me very happy :D.
¡SOBRE MÍ!
★ Mi nombre artístico es Nerynero queso.
★ Me llamo Oliver, soy proshipper, selfshipper, soy de Venezuela y disfruto de actividades cómo: Dibujar, leer, escribir, jugar voleibol. Mi animal favorito son los mapaches y nutrias marinas por lo que es probable que diga que soy alguno de esos animales (no soy un bot tampoco 😭). Soy Multifandom, aunque mayormente me verán dibujando sobre bsd, VnC me encanta, al igual que Black clover entre otros animes. Sí puedo ayudarte de alguna forma puedes escribirme con total confianza<3.
★ OTPS: Fyolai, Fyosiglai, Siglai, Bakukami, Suegiku (Me gusta mucho cualquier ship que implique a la DOA)
★ DNI: Feministas radicales, xenofobos, transfobicos, homofóbicos, racistas, machistas, personas que se burlan de padecimientos mentales, personas no tolerantes e irrespetuosas, personas que digan que Aya Koda es hija del soukoku (Inmediatamente les doy bloqueo).
★ Mis confort characters son de verdad cuestionables.
★ ¡Todo aquí es ficción a menos que se diga lo contrario! (Aunque aveces uso mis experiencias para hacer dibujos con los personajes con los que me identifico).
★ SOBRE MI SELFSHIPP: Tengo una Ocsona que uso para shipearlo con cualquier personaje que me guste en las situaciones FICTICIAS que me imagino (me representa pero no en su totalidad, el personaje tiene grito propio), se llama Oliver Samuel o si gustan Nero.
★NO ME MOLESTAN LAS INTERACCIONES, si gustan pueden corregirme y darme ideas para dibujar y yo lo haré (dando los respectivos créditos) de hecho me harían muy feliz :D.
★X (Twitter): @Nerynero_so
★Instagram: @Nerynero_so
★Tiktok (dead): @Nerynero_so
★Ko-fi: @Nerynero_chesse
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pupuseriazag · 1 year
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Andaba viendo ig y me salio un video de un negocio de alla de los yunais en donde hacen "pupusa donut" y se veia asi
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....I cannot stress enough how that doesnt look like either a donut or a pupusa
Desde el momento en el que elejis usar harina de trigo en vez de maiz o arroz esa mamada AUTOMATICAMENTE ya no es una pupusa. Wey ese solo es un pan con queso 😭 bagel relleno a lo mucho
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atonki · 2 years
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Recetas de gallina pinta
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Recetas de gallina pinta how to#
Recetas de gallina pinta skin#
Recetas de gallina pinta plus#
Es curioso que no contiene este ingrediente. Despus ya que se coci bien la colita, se ponen el maz ya. Desde Tijuan, han solicitado conocer la receta del caldo de gallina pinta. Grab 1 tortilla add it to the sauce put it in a plate add some queso fresco and repeat again as many layers as you want. Alimento Base: Res, Se pone en un sartn agua hirviendo y se pone la colita de res, los frijoles, el ajo, el chile california o chilaca y sal al gusto. Este plato es originario del norte de México de la región de Sonora y a pesar de su nombre, la receta original se elabora con carne de res, generalmente chambarete, cola y aldilla, frijoles pintos y maíz pozolero. Then I add this tortillas between the first ones so they can get some of the oil.(you can fry them if you want) Uno de las comidas más ricas y tradicionales de la cocina mexicana, es la sopa de gallina pinta. Warm up the tortillas, something that I like to do is put some of the oil in the pan ad my tortillas warm them from both sides then the next set of tortillas I don't put any oil I just warm them up. 15K views, 1.3K likes, 95 loves, 140 comments, 156 shares, Facebook Watch Videos from Cocina Tutuli: Gallina pinta, sin Gallina. In a small pan add 1 tbsp of oil, turn on the stove and we are going to add the sauce passing it through a strainer.Īnd let it there for 2 min, turn of the stove. Then after 5 min, we are going to blend the tomatoes the piece of onion the garlic salt the chile guajillo and the 1/3 or so of cup of the chile water. Add water (according to the instructions on your slow cooker). chicken recetas Para Fiestas, dona Aranha, galinha Pintadinha E Sua Turma. Place the beans, hominy, garlic, onion, Anaheim pepper, and coriander seeds in the slow-cooker. Galinha Pintadinha 3, GALLINA, borboletinha, Galinha Pintadinha, Kifaranga. Place the hominy in a strainer and rinse until the water is clear. Turn of the stove put the lid and let them rest there for 5 min. Clean the beans and soak them for 8 12 hours, discard the soaking water and rinse the beans.
Recetas de gallina pinta skin#
In a small pan add some water and take it to the stove add the tomatoes, once the water is boiling and the skin of the tomatoes are coming off, its time to add the chile guajillo already seedless and with out the tail. Como cada semana el Chef Juan Ángel Vásquez nos comparte una de sus recetas deliciosas, en esta ocasión le tocó el turno a un platillo muy regional, sencillo y sabroso, la gallina pinta.
Recetas de gallina pinta how to#
MEXICAN WHITE RICE CHECK THE VIDEO ABOUT HOW TO MAKE QUESO FRESCO AT HOME let me share with you some amazing recipes. Just add a little bit at the time mix it up. Once the foam has been removed, add the beans, the whole onion, green chile, garlic head, bay leaves and cilantro. Adems, se dice que una vez servido el plato, a primera vista, pareciera una gallina pinta. Bring it to a boil and with a spoon remove all of the foam that forms on top of the pot. Esta receta de sopa tpica de Sonora es conocida como Gallina Pinta, aunque en su preparacin no lleva ni pollo ni gallina su nombre refiere ms al uso de los frijoles pintos. (this is my favorite trick of all, when my food is either spicy or salty, this works amazing. Place the beef in a large stockpot and pour in about 16 cups (4 liters) hot water. WHAT CAN I DO IF THE SAUCE IS SPICY FOR MY FAMILY? Yes, this sauce you could even freeze it with no problem for up to a month. GARLIC: as every Mexican meal onion and garlic never can be left out.Se puede usar chambarete o chamorro frijol pinto (se puede usar más para que rinda) nixtamal o maíz precocido ajo cebolla blanca grande mazo de cilantro. so the rule is that for every 3 chiles guajillos that you use, you need 1 tomato. agua cola de res (o 1 cola entera) cortada en trozos de 5 cm pecho de res cortado en trozos de 3 cm.
Recetas de gallina pinta plus#
TOMATOES: i love using Roma tomatoes, they have a good flavor plus they are inexpensive.
but you can half the recipe if you have a smaller family.
CHILE GUAJILLO: this chile you can find it on the aisle where the spices are.I feed a family of 6 so I use 6 chiles.
SOURCREAM: this is an optional ingredient BUT they taste delicious. Como hacer Gallina Pinta facil y deliciosa para disfrutar con toda la familiaINGREDIENTES:-cola de res unas 3 piezas-costilla de res (4 a 5 piezas)-chamorro.
but the traditional enchiladas Montadas are made in a small tortillas.
TORTILLAS: you can use the normal standar sizeif you would like.
This enchiladas montada recipes are so easy to make, is one of those recipes that you can make in minutes and it a very frugal recipe, INGREDIENTS: Calienta la manteca y fríe en ella la carne, una vez que esté dorada añade abundante agua para que la puedas cocer. Saca la cebolla, las hojas de laurel y la cabeza de ajo. Retira la espuma que se forma en los bordes. Aade los frijoles, las hojas de laurel, la pimienta negra, la cebolla y la cabeza de ajo. Are you looking for a frugal easy yummy recipe? this enchiladas montadas recipe is the best recipe for it. VIERTE el agua en una olla express, agrega la cola y el chamberete de res.
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The boys' s/o gets into random interviews on the street and everytime an interviewer ask if they know <insert language>, they flex back saying "nah man idk that language" in that exact language, fluently 🐸
Estaba un día en mi cantón viendo paw Patrol chingandome, unas papitas, pero de repente me dieron ganas de chingarme unas quesadillas con queso el balón, así que fui a mi cocina y me di cuenta de que ya no había tortillas, no0000 dijo eso cada madre me da vuelvo a ir a la tortillería, no me ames, pero ni modo ya me la pelea, así que fui a la tortillería, pero cuando estaba en camino un morrillo, todo Meco bien, picudo, se me pone enfrente de un tome igualatorio. Soy pro, porque juego a car shows Cubas Cubas xD así que yo le dije sea que sea la chingada pinche morrillo, Eneko y como estudie agricultura, le siempre unos buenos, verdad esos xD y le rompí madre entonces llegaron sus compás interespaciales del espacio espacioso y me fui en putiza de allí cuando los perdí de vista compre mis tortillas y me regrese ami cantón, pero me di cuenta que yo no tenía que eso sí que tenía queso Camila y me dice mis quesadillas acá bien sabrosas, entonces me tocan la puerta y pregunto quién es y me doy cuenta que eran los de la Copel que venían a comprarme una madre otra Estos putos que solo andan chingando mejor les parto su madre, así que se las hizo de Pedo y ellos me tiraron una piedra y me rompieron las ventanas de mi casa, así que les grite porque no mejor me avientas a tu hermana jugar, cubas de Cristo y los baratos me pegaron una boutique que todo mareado, así que me emputa y mes hacen los hacks alterando el espacio-tiempo y la realidad misma mientras les digo una putiza mientras me alguna pastilla y me tiro un pedo así alterando el orden natural de las cosas y ahora tengo 6 pichulas 5 cubitos del mar Inca dinosaurio xt1032 después de Chabelo así que después de todo el desvergue que hizo desactivé el chiste me escribió un libro llamado satélite natural de putón que se está vendiendo bien vergas en todos los países de México tales como Culiacán es para comprar sé que te vas a pintar he hablado tu mamá celulítica encarna y te deseo buenas noches, muchas gracias carita. ;)
Sordward
… What the fuck was that? He doesn’t even know what you just said, he only speaks English man. Speak English you poopyhead-
So yeah, he probably just looked at you in a funny way, whether that being you speaking nonsense that he doesn’t even know, or because this random interviewer asked you a question out of nowhere that’s not even important.
I mean, he and his younger brother were probably interviewed a few times. He somewhat enjoys interviews, but it depends what it’s about, either for royalty or celebrity reasons. Or because of their past.
… If an interview was about his past, then things would be pretty ugly since he doesn’t like or wish to be questioned if he’ll do the same thing again. It’s really tiring.
But he’ll probably just stand there in amusement as you continue with your shit. Until the interviewer did something to piss him off, of course. He’ll drag you away from them and call it a day.
Shielbert
This poor man was probably confused by this tomfuckery you were presenting. He just stared at you while trying to figure out what just happened. It was awkward from the start since he barely did anything but stand there.
I mean, whenever the interviewer left, or you guys ran away from whoever the hell that was. He’ll probably ask you about whatever the hell just happened there.
Whether that question be “can you actually speak in ‘said language’?”. But you’ll probably just answer his question in that said language. Which he would barely be fazed at all. He should’ve expected that-
So he’ll just accept whatever this is and move on with his day. He just walks away, pretending all this didn’t happen. Probably going to a church or something.
He and his older brother were probably being interviewed a few times in the past. Mainly for either royalty or terrible past reasons… Those interviews about his past definitely don’t make him happy at all.
Emmet
Honestly, same man. Sometimes you just want to piss an interviewer off by speaking into another language while they ask if you can speak gibberish. He’d do the same thing, really.
The only difference being he’ll ACTUALLY speak in gibberish while pretending that’s the language they asked for. And you speak in a full on language he probably doesn’t know.
I mean, it’s not like people interview him and Ingo much, but they’re both not really a big fan when it comes to those sorts of things. Mainly because of the cameras…
And also because his mind sort of freezes whenever someone asks him questions, even asking for his birthday will make him freeze since he’s just thinking on what to say. So Ingo probably ends up answering that question.
But eh. Do whatever you want fam. He’ll just continue running the subway station normally while you do whatever you’re doing.
Ingo
._. (Okay, for real though, he probably caught on what you just said. Depending on what language it is, of course, since he doesn’t know every single language in the known multiverse.)
And he probably assumes that you were trying to be funny. So he probably ended up breathing out of his nose and committing a facepalm while facing elsewhere.
… Although he’d wonder why you even did this in the first place. Like, why do you keep getting into random interviews on the streets? Doesn’t it get tiring?
He’s not a massive fan of interviews. I mean, he can understand if it's important (like a student trying to learn how the subway station works for a school project). But if it’s over a damn opinion or something useless like that, he couldn’t care much.
So he’ll probably just end up dragging you away if it’s been going on for too long or he deems it to be completely useless. But it’s not like it matters since you’ll just end up being in another interview.
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solennitawrites · 3 years
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The Voice in the Silence, Part I
The pandemic has really been getting to me. I think I’m hearing things—or, really, just one thing. I don’t know what is real anymore.
My favorite time of night is when I can hear the palm trees in the wind, so loud it sounds like rain even if the night is perfectly clear.
First full moon of the year. I’m standing outside, sand in my toes, bathed in the brightest moonlight casting shadows as if it were already dawn. I close my eyes as the waves quietly lap over my feet and let the sound of the palms quiet my mind.
It’s been a tough year for me. Job losses, grandparents succumbed to COVID, parents struggling to keep their restaurant afloat. And it’s just me now. College and business school— that was the plan. I was going to be the one to save all of us. I was going to buy my parents a big house on the beach with a condo close by for Abuela and Abuelo.
Guess I’m too late.
Corporate life was never for me, unfortunately. I tried to suck it up and do the whole networking thing in college but I just couldn’t bear to end up another miserable finance employee...not to mention, the side glares, the derogatory comments, the quiet laughs I got just for being female in these spaces, not to mention an immigrant.
I’d found some decent jobs here and there, but my last one was in the hospitality business and I got let go a few months into the pandemic. So here I am, living at home again, trying not to let my parents’ disappointment kill me.
The beach is my quiet place. My parents still don’t understand the need to isolate, despite their ages and despite my mother losing both parents to COVID. “Estaban viejitos, mija. Cuando Dios los necesita, no hay nada que hacer.”
I tried. I tried to get them to wear masks. To stop letting neighbors over. To get tested. To get the vaccine when it started to become available near us. Nothing was enough to convince them. So I’d escape to a quiet spot of the beach, away from the touristy shores and just let the waves roll over my feet until the wet sand pulled me ankle-deep.
That’s where I am now. But not because of frustrations with my parents about health precautions. Because...something happened, I guess? At this point, it’s hard to tell what is real and what is quarantine brain.
It was just this morning, when I think it all started. I woke up in the early, early hours of the morning, the moon still up and the sun not yet creeping above the horizon. I started on what had become my daily routine—not out of necessity, but because preparing breakfast before we opened the restaurant was the only thing I felt I could do to help my parents.
So it went: cafe brewing in the Greca, arepas warming in the oven, queso guayanes cut into thick slices on a plate, and fresh jugo de parchita on the counter.
“Emilia...”
“Aquí!” I called back, thinking one of my parents was calling for me from their room. “Su madre!” I hissed immediately after under my breath, wincing as I sliced my finger instead of the ham I was preparing.
No response. I waited for a moment, glancing down the hallway towards my parents’ room but all was silent. Shaking my head, I ran to the sink to wash the blood off of my finger. The cut wasn’t deep, thankfully, and I pressed a corner of paper towel to it until the bleeding stopped. I was just about to throw the blood-soaked scrap away and get back to the ham when I heard it again.
“Emiiiiiiliaaaaaa.....”
The voice was quieter now but also felt so much closer. Like a whisper just against my ears making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I looked around slowly but my vision felt like it was blurring, just around the edges, like it was slowly going out. I shivered violently and crossed myself, shutting my eyes tightly and telling myself I was imagining things—pandemic exhaustion, too many early mornings opening the restaurant, too many late nights job hunting and poring over our finances. It was all just getting to me, that was it.
A few minutes later, my mom walked into the kitchen with my dad close behind and I started to open my eyes, slowly at first and then all at once as the bright kitchen lights came flooding in. My vision was back to normal and the voice was, apparently, gone, affirming in my mind that I had imagined all of it—a product of an overworked brain and nothing more.
“¿Que haces, Emi?” My mom was shaking her head in judgment at me while she picked up where I left off slicing the ham.
“Sorry, mami,” I muttered, holding up my finger with the bloody paper as way of explanation. “Got distracted.”
“Esta hija tuya es más despistada...” my mom sighed at my dad, as if I weren’t there. Whenever I screwed up, which was often in her eyes, I was my father’s daughter. As per usual, my dad made no response and simply made his way to the kitchen table to wait for breakfast. Any other day, I would have made a teasing remark about his machismo preventing him from helping serve the food, knowing he’d respond with an exaggerated grumble about his joint pain, which I would laugh off despite knowing his pain was only getting worse each day. Today, however, I said nothing and silently brought the arepas, cheese, ham, butter, and coffee to the table.
I nibbled on some cheese, having lost most of my appetite, and pretended not to notice the heavy silence that hung over the three of us. Glancing out the kitchen window, I saw that the sky was finally starting to lighten and I stood up, still saying nothing, to make my way downstairs and open the restaurant while my parents finished their breakfast.
I moved as if in a trance, like I couldn’t shake that weirdness from earlier, like the gloom of our family life just added to the weight of it all. Before I knew it, I had opened the cash register, checked the inventory, wiped down all ten small tables (which were almost always empty nowadays), and updated our chalkboard easel before placing it carefully out front to list the day’s specials—if you could call them that. It was the same special everyday because we had so few customers, our avocados weren’t going to last. So Reina Pepiada Arepa it would be, again.
I passed my parents on the stairs as they headed down to begin their work. I usually spent the morning job hunting, driving for Uber and Lyft, or whatever odd jobs I could manage until lunchtime, when I would watch the restaurant for a while the give my parents a break. Not that it really mattered—no one was coming.
I didn’t have it in me to deal with strangers today, even though I knew my mom would berate me for not earning extra money later. I just needed to be alone, doing nothing, for once. Grabbing my masks and keys, I took the car and drove to my spot on the beach.
I had found my spot a few weeks into moving back home—far away from the tourists and hotels, past the wanna-be surfers, the boaters, the old-timers. Partly hidden by trees and brush, the shore was often “dirty” with seaweed, more so than the rest of the beach, and so was largely left alone. If anyone ever crossed into my area, they were either like me and sat at a large distance to be alone or had wandered there by mistake and quickly turned around to return to the more populated areas.
Today, it was especially quiet. The silence felt almost oppressive and I kept picking up and tossing seashells just to hear the -plop- in the water. But they sounded like they were coming through a tunnel or something, muted and slightly echoing. I shut my eyes, counted my breaths, opened them again. I did a toe to head meditation to ground myself in the present. Still, the silence grew thicker and there—again—was the blurriness at the edge of my vision, the colors starting to look more and more faded. And then—
“Emiliaaaaaaa...”
It was behind me—or on top of me, I was sure of it. Quiet and close, the voice repeated my name faster and faster, without getting louder but with the silence all around me deafening me so that the voice and only the voice filled my head. I was frozen, staring at the sand in front of me, unable to turn around.
“Emilia...Emilia...Emilia...”
I squeezed my eyes shut again, willing myself to scream, but my mouth wasn’t working. Or maybe it was—I had no way of knowing.
“Emilia...Emilia...”
There was something horrifyingly familiar about the voice but I refused to let myself think about it. I couldn’t let myself think about it. My stomach churned and I thought I was going to vomit out a lung. Still, I kept my eyes squeezed and kept screaming at my brain to send the signals to my body to move, to run, to scream, to do anything but sit there as the voice got closer and closer, making its way around to face me.
“Emiliaaaaaa...”
There. I could feel something like hot breath on my face. My heart was pounding in my ears. Or maybe that was the silence. If I just opened my eyes...if I could just...
“Wake up.”
I bolted upright, my eyes flying open. My mouth was formed in a big “O” and my jade cracked as I shut it. I was in my room. In my room? I looked around to be sure but, yes, this was my room. Or it was the living room since we didn’t have a second bedroom but I had pretty much converted it into my living space. It was dark and I scrambled around, looking for my phone. 9:02PM.
What? Missed calls from my parents, texts from my dad, but only until around 3:00pm. I stumbled to my feet and towards the kitchen sink, needing to wash the sweat away.
“There she is, la bella durmiente!” My mom walked into the kitchen, annoyance written into every creased line of her face. “We tried to wake you up earlier but you were dead to the world...Dios sabe porque ya que no haces nada, no tienes trabajo...”
I couldn’t even respond to her not so passive aggressive commentaries. My stomach was still churning and I felt hot, too hot, too sick to be standing. What had happened? I couldn’t make sense of it, not in this house. Ignoring my mom’s cries of where I thought I was off to, I grabbed my phone, masks and keys (hanging where they always were by the door, as if I had never left...) and drove back to my spot on the beach.
And here we are now. Sitting on the seaweed-infested shore, full moon above me, writing all this out here in the hopes I can make sense of it. Though, now that it’s all out here, I feel even crazier than when I started. I just fell asleep and dreamt it all, didn’t I? At least it’s here now for someone else to read, for someone else to figure out. If anything else happens, I’ll be back though. Count on it.
But it was probably just a dream. Just quarantine exhaustion. Just pandemic brain.
Although...
I could swear the palm trees just went silent again—but they’re still moving and I can feel the wind on my face.
I can’t hear the ocean anymore either...
Oh God. Please. Not again...
I hear it. The voice. It’s back...I’m posting this before I lose myself again, or lose time again. Please help me.
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Peter Parker X Latina!Reader hc
-Because either I'm not looking at the right tags, or there is legit a seriously lacking amount of latina!reader stuff out in the world.
Warnings: Spanish, FLUFF ATTACK,
Where to start?
Peter takes Spanish with you which is great.
As a native speaker, you can help him where he needs it (which is pretty much all the time).
"Como se dice ____?" Is thrown around a bunch.
And when you speak in spanish?
Peter's done for.
Every word flows well and is said with such confidence.
It makes him super self conscious tbh.
He doesn't want you to think he's stupid.
Which, you would never, but he's just scared.
And you can guarantee he'd be at your Quince.
He would totally be your main chambelan.
He may have asked to be it, but you were going to chose him anyway.
Which he takes VERY SERIOUSLY.
When you asked him if he was available for the practice/the actual Quince, he literally devoted all of his free time to it.
Anything to make your special day, special.
But in the end, you're both 15, the dance wasn't perfect, but it was darn close.
Peter apologizing for the rest of the night because he thinks he ruined your night.
Of course, the most important thing, your abuela.
Peter practiced his spanish for WEEKS. He had this full introduction planned out to the dot. He was ready...
Until you lead him to your Abuela.
"Abuelita, ese es mi amigo, Peter."
"Hola, mi llamo es Peter y mucho gusto."
The poor boy blanked after that.
But your abuela loved him.
"Eres muy guapo! Tenga, tamales."
It was this approval of him that gave him confidence to ask you out after the Quince.
As you were eating a piece of tres leche cake, he nervously apprached and hesitantly asked you out.
Obviously, you said yes.
Speaking of food, Peter is so food driven.
Probably because of that pesky high metabolism.
The first time you took him out to have proper tacos, he was on full alert.
The best taco places are in shady places at late at night.
He was ready to go full Spiderman at any moment.
But he felt relieved when the vendor waved you over by name.
"Peter, what kind do you want?"
He was overwhelmed.
"Uh, pollo?"
You got al pastor because AL PASTOR
And when he saw you basically dunk your tacos in limon, he thought he'd do the same.
Big mistake.
The boy couldn't handle it.
But he did LOVE the tacos. (Obviously).
Another fun food activity is the Michoacana.
The best Michoacana was a bit of a walk, but WORTH IT.
When you entered, Peter immediately was drawn to the paletas.
He ended up ordering for himself which shocked you. He definitely practiced before.
"Me gustaría una paleta de fresas."
You opted for a mangonada with extra chamoy.
Peter, obviously asking what it was.
You offered him a taste and you could see his eyes light up at the taste.
Frequent Michoacana visits from then on.
One day during a movie night, you threw out that you wanted an elote.
Peter, in his innocent basicness, was confused as to why you wanted "corn."
When you found out he had never had an elote, you actually freaked out.
So yet again, it was your job to introduce Peter to a delacacy.
The corn was boiling and you got to making the crema.
Peter offered to help, but you immediately denied. Elote was an experience, he needed to be surprised by it.
You pulled the corn out at put it on a palo and began the best part.
Peter watched in confusion as you coated the corn in the crema and dipped it in queso, finally topping off with a bit of chile.
"Boom, elote."
He took a bite and was hooked.
Of course, you'd both end up with a mess of crema and queso (because there is NO way of eating elote and not getting messy.)
One day during an impromptu study session, your mom mentioned a balia for a cousin's birthday that was next week.
Peter was intrigued.
So he ended up as a plus one.
Let me just tell you. This boy jams to a good spanish bop.
MS?
Ka Paz?
Montez?
All of it. He jams, but still is a wallflower.
It wasn't until a slower song, Cuando me Emaroro (Enrique Iglesias), played that you dragged him to dance.
Your arms wrapped around his shoulders,
His hands were gently holding your waist
Perfectamente.
Peter obviously didn't understand the song fully, but you did.
You relected on the words.
It was the moment cuando te enamoraste con Peter.
When the night was over, Peter googled the song and read a translation of the lyrics.
He went red right quick. He danced to a song about falling in love with you.
Three days later, he said it... in an interesting way.
"(Y/n)?"
"Hmm?"
"Pienso que te me quieres."
"Y, como sabes este?"
"Porque yo sé mi corazón."
You were confused at first, but you realized he just had a small grammar error. Instead of saying "I think I'm falling in love with you" he said "I think you're falling in love with me." Instead of calling him out and ruining the moment...
"Te queiro, amor."
He melted then and there. Not only did you tell him you loved him, but also you called him amor.
Peter knew that was a big deal.
He didn't even know what do to next.
"Peter?"
"Hmm?"
"Venga y dame un besito." You tapped your cheek.
He didn't need a translation to understand that.
There, a thing.
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Text
Day 2
Oh I tell you, I started the second day with the same desire to eat yesterday, but as the day went by I calmed down more and more, I did not let my mind dominate me and I focused on other things 🙇🏻‍♀️ When the night came I saw my sister eat a delicious sandwich (she even showed me how to stretch the cheese, in fact it stretched very richly 😭). The worst was when she brought bread to the house, a half piece of a round bread personal size to be exact and that increased my desire a shit, but thanks to I started writing this I was able to calm down. At the end of the day I just ate half a large green apple, raisins (which by the way is a great snack, since they do not have any fats) and tea with sugar, so I can continue with the exercise routine 🏋🏻‍♀️ that I started yesterday, when In fact, my whole weight loss plan began. Thanks to the sugar I can provide energy 🔋 through this to my body, to be honest when doing the exercise routine today, I felt without energy but not exhausted either. I do not know where this will go, but I hope it will go for good.
At the end I ate that little piece of bread with a slice of 🧀 , because I remember that I need calcium to keep my bone strong enough (it was a cheese bread by the way).
~*~
Ay que les cuento, empecé el segundo día con las misma s ganas de comer ayer, pero a medida que iba pasando el día me iba calmando cada vez más, no dejaba que mi mente me dominara y me centraba en otras cosas 🙇🏻‍♀️. Al llegar la noche vi a mi hermana comerse un un delicioso sándwich (hasta me mostró cómo se estiraba el queso, de hecho se estiraba muy ricamente 😭). Lo peor fue cuando me trajo pan a la casa, media pedazo de un pan redondo tamaño personal para ser exactos y eso me incrementó las ganas un chingo, pero gracias a comencé a escribir esto me he podido calmar. Al final del día nada más comí media manzana verde grande, uvas pasas (qué por cierto es un gran aperitivo, ya que no tienen ningún tipo de grasas) y té con azúcar, así podré continuar con la rutina de ejercicios 🏋🏻‍♀️ que empecé ayer, cuando de hecho empezó todo mi plan para bajar de peso. Gracias a la azúcar puedo proporcionar energía 🔋 por medio de esta a mi cuerpo, para serles sincera al momento de hacer la rutina de ejercicios de hoy, me sentí sin energías pero tampoco agotada. No sé para donde irá esto, pero espero que para bien.
Al final me comí ese pequeño pedazo de pan con una rebanada de queso🧀, porque recordé que necesito calcio para que mis huesos se mantengan fuertes (el pan también era de queso).
Estefania se va, Paz.
(Sigan atentos)
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lucanto-fandom · 2 years
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OUATIC: Scene Rewrite
Summary of the "Times Of Uncertainty" chapter: Oscar witnesses his first successful gift ceremony... While also developing paranoias and nightmares. Luckily, Mirabel knows how to cheer him up.
TW: Nothing, really, just ticklish cats and lots of cuddles!
Tagging @featherlight-touches, because tickling!
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"If it was all in our heads, then how did she cut her hand?"
Mirabel, tía Julieta, and I sat in the kitchen as the party continued elsewhere. She was preparing an arepa for her daughter. "Oscar's right. I would never ruin Antonio's night! Is that really what you think?" Mirabel asked her mother.
"What I think is that today was very hard for the both of you—"
"That's not... The entire problem." I cut Julieta off. "We were looking out for the family. And I might not be super strong like Luisa, or effortlessly perfect like Señorita Perfecta Isabela, who's never even had a bad hair day. But..." Mirabel sighed. "Whatever."
I've had bad hair days, but those weren't days when I was in a bad mood. Those would be days where I'm either woken up too early, being scolded for not eliminating pests fast enough, or having to take a bath.
Yeah, I ripped a bag of flour open once. Deal with it.
Casita delivered the arepa to Julieta, who moves closer to Mirabel. She takes a bite from the arepa. "I wish you could see yourself the way Oscar and I do. You are perfect, just like this. You're just as special as anyone else in this family." Julieta said. I nodded.
"Mhm. You just healed my hand with an arepa con queso."
Is she gonna finish that arepa con queso?
"I healed your hand..." Then Julieta got playful like. "With love for my daughter. With her wonderful brain..."
Mirabel tried to wriggle away from her mother's affection. "Agh."
"...Big heart..."
"Stop."
"...Cool glasses..."
"Mamá."
Julieta gave Mirabel a big kiss on her cheek. "Ay, te amo, cosa linda."
Though she tried to snuggle up to Mirabel, she isn't won over. She extricates herself, "We know what we saw."
Julieta sighed. "Mira, my brother Bruno lost his way in this family... I don't want the same for you and Oscar. Get some sleep. You'll feel better tomorrow."
~~~~~~~~~~
Easier said than done, tía Julieta. Now I'm paranoid that I'm gonna have nightmares. I mean, every night, I get at least a little paranoid about having nightmares. Nothing bad has to happen that day, either!
The scene was playing on loop inside my brain; the cracks forming everywhere, and the candle almost going out. It wouldn't go away, no matter how much I wish it would.
"Can't sleep?" Mirabel asked me. "No. I can't. I wish I could. But now I'm scared... Could the house really be in trouble?" I answered, then asked. "I... I don't know, mi amor. I just don't know." Mirabel bent down over her bed to stroke the back of my neck. Ohh... That feels good... "Try to get some sleep, okay? I'll have a plan by morning."
And within seconds, I drifted off to sleep.
.
.
.
Wait... What just happened?
Why am I back in the courtyard?
What's everyone else doing up? Don't they know what time it is?
Why is Isabela's dress a bunch of different colors? Wasn't it a bright pastel purple last I checked?
Why are Mirabel and Abuela arguing?!
"Luisa will never be strong enough... Isabela won't be perfect enough... Bruno only left because you only saw the worst in him!"
¿Que? Is that true? Could it possibly be true?
"Bruno didn't care about this family!"
That isn't true! We just don't know the reason WHY he left!
"He LOVES this family! I love this family! We all love this family! You're the one that doesn't care! You're the one breaking our home!"
It's true! I love this family! More than anything!
"Don't you ever—!"
SILENCIO, LET HER FINISH!
"Our miracle is dying, because of you!"
In that very moment, the biggest crack anyone has ever seen appears on the floor.
Chaos, as Mirabel ran off to try and save the candle.
Everyone urging her to leave it and escape while she still can.
And me, glued to her shoulder. Petrified as too much was happening at once.
Finally, she grabs it. But then the tower comes crashing down. Down... Down... The only direction we could go from there.
We both landed on the cracked floor, candle in hand. We looked up at the debris that was about to fall!
But then...
It all cut to black.
.
.
.
"Oscar! ¡Despierta (Wake up)!"
And wake up I did. With a loud yell that probably would've woken Dolores up... And quite possibly everyone else on this side of the second floor. "Whoa, hey, Oscar, chill!"
My blurry vision finally cleared up. At that moment, I zeroed in on my surroundings. I was back in Mirabel's room. Thank goodness...
Trembling, I leaped into Mirabel's arms, not bothering to hold back the oncoming tears. She put her arms around me. My breathing was shaky and labored. An occasional sob slipped out. Mirabel, the good prima she is, rubbed my back in slow, gentle strokes from head to tail. I just couldn't bring myself to purr right now.
"It's okay. Breathe. I'm right here."
I meant to meow, like a normal cat, but instead it came out as "mama." And Mirabel only hugged me tighter. "Yeah, mamá's right here..."
The sobs eventually turned into small hiccups. It felt like horas (hours) before the trembling came down. She didn't stop stroking my back. Mirabel knows exactly how to calm me down after a nightmare...
As does Camilo. Last week, I dreamt I was being eaten alive by this enormous rope-like creature that humans probably call a serpiente (snake), and I almost bolted out of the room. Believe me or not, all it took for Camilo to calm me down was a tight hug.
All of the nietos (grandchildren), minus Antonio who occasionally draws a blank, have their own ways of getting me to settle down.
This nightmare is different, though... It was almost like I had a future vision. Kinda like...
"¿Pesadilla (Nightmare)?"
I nodded.
"Wanna talk about it?"
I didn't answer at first. Do I wanna talk about it? She's probably gonna think I'm crazy...
"You don't have to if you don't want to, but it might make you feel better—"
"The cracks came back." I blurted out. There was a mix of concern and interest on her face. I guess she believes me. "Tell me everything that happened."
"I don't even know... First, you and Abuela were arguing... Then Casita started to fall apart... I don't know, Mira... It was just a dream. It can't possibly be real..." I've felt unsure about a lot of things, but this would be at the top of the list. "Can it?"
Mirabel pondered on for a few moments, then sighed. "That dream you had, Oscar... It sounds real." She whispered. "I mean... You and I both saw the cracks, right?"
"Sí."
"And you saw cracks in your dream, right?"
"Are you suggesting that I just predicted the future? Because that'd be really cool... And terrifying."
"Your dream sounds terrible. I'm so sorry you had to see all that." Mirabel said, pulling me close again. "It's okay..."
I didn't know how much I had dared to ask. I know Mirabel isn't falling asleep easily, either, and I didn't want to bother her. But on the other hand, *I* knew I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep yet. I let out an exasperated sigh, alerting Mirabel to my mental turmoil.
"Oscar?"
I mentally cursed at how loud my sigh ended up being. "I'm just thinking."
"What about?" Mirabel was concerned. She had calmed quite a bit, but she could still sense something on my mind, the empath she is. I silently gulped, knowing I'd have to answer her.
"I... I was wondering if you could do something for me... and it stay between us?"
Mirabel cocked her brow a bit at the question. "What is it?"
I glanced back, a blush on my face. "Ay... Do you think you'd be okay to tickle me?"
Mirabel's mouth fell open for a moment, before being replaced with a grin. Yeah, back when I was a kitten, I was really ticklish. And there aren't many cats that like being tickled, so... Without giving it a second thought, Mirabel gave me a semi evil smile.
"Oh? You mean, like this?" Mirabel quickly shifted her hands from my waist to my sides, tickling at a moderate pace. I squealed before dissolving into giggles. "Is this what you're after?" Mirabel teased as she tickled the sides of my ribs.
"HEHEHEHEHE Y-YEAH! HEHEHEAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" I giggled wildly, which caused Mirabel to let out a small giggle of her own.
"Or," Mirabel drawled out. "Maybe I should tickle you... HERE!"
Without more warning, Mirabel switched to tickle my stomach, causing the me to wrap my arms around myself and kick my back legs a bit. I even started thrashing from side to side, though the my prima knew it was just a reaction. If I had really wanted her to stop, I'd be pushing her hands away with more force and making it clear for her to stop. Mirabel couldn't help but laugh at how cute I looked, nor how much I was laughing.
"HAHAHAHAHAAH MIHIHIRABEHEHEEHEL!" I squealed as she tickled at a faster pace.
"What's the matter?" she teased. "I thought you liked it when I tickled you there."
I laughed wildly, unable to reply to my cousin's statement. Mirabel took this as a sign to keep teasing and tickling, scribbling her fingers a little faster, until she decided to up her taunting game.
"...Tickle..."
"HAHAHA M-Mirabel!" I half squealed. I knew what was coming. But Mirabel ignored me and slowed her tickling to match the speed of her taunting.
"...Tickle... Tickle... Tickle..." My giggles went up a pitch or two, anticipation spread across my face. While I knew this would tickle a lot and drive me insane, I also knew that I was having fun, and so was Mirabel; she couldn't wipe the smile off her face, no matter how hard she tried. "Tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle..."
And suddenly, with a burst of speed, Mirabel raised the pitch of her own voice super high as she started tickling as fast as she could and teasing rapidly "TICKLETICKLETICKLETICKLETICKLETICKLE!"
I lost it, a slight scream leaving my mouth before deep laughter and thrashing continued. Mirabel broke into a bit of laughter herself at my reaction. It was hysterical to see me react in such a manner.
Sure, we have a miracle to preserve... But might as well have fun while we can.
~~~~~~~~~~
I WAS gonna make this longer, but I grew too tired and called it a night. Hope you enjoyed it anyway!
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dont-doubt-dopple · 6 years
Note
au ask: reincarnation themed: 2. We keep reincarnating as people who speak different languages. w/vanmoo?
AUs
Disclaimer: I do not, in any way, speak the languages included in this fic. I will be relying heavily on Google Translate, which I know may not always be accurate. English translations will be after in parenthesis. Feel free to correct me if anything is wrong. Also, historical details like architecture and speech patterns will most likely be off. I apologize for that. Regardless, enjoy! The languages I use are Hungarian, Polish, German, Turkish, and Spanish.
Everyone gets reincarnated. Souls are simply not made fast enough to correspond with the rate of new babies born. It’s much easier to reuse the souls that already exist after all memories of the previous life are erased. Of course, no system was perfect so occasionally some souls don’t forget about their previous lives. Brock was one of those souls.
The problem to Brock was that he would always see the same soul in all of his lives. He didn’t know the name, and it was hard because he had all these different faces. But every time he looked at the guy, he just knew it was the same soul. The same person from the various versions of himself. It hurt sometimes to see him because of two things. One was that the stranger never recognized Brock, always forgetting that he even existed. The other was that each life they never spoke the same language.
It was first evident back in the 1880s. Brock was fleeing from his homeland of Poland. He‘s lived enough lives already to understand how often humans tend to repeat themselves. And when the czar was assassinated, he knew he was going to blame because he was Jewish and that leaving was the best alternative. America was the best bet, but until he could afford enough money to get there, Austria-Hungary would be a good resting place for now.
He was tired, hungry, and had no money. It was pouring, rain seeping through what little he had. He scrambled for some place to rest, which happened to be under the awning of a little bakery. Brock did not even realize he was drooling at the breads in the window until a voice spoke out at him.
“Mit csinálsz [What are you doing?]” The stranger asked, looking at Brock with a puzzling and pitied look. “Szeretne megvásárolni őket? [Do you wish to buy them?]”
“ Niedługo zniknę. [I will be gone soon.]” He assured, despite any indication the stranger understood him. He didn’t even understand him himself. “Potrzebowałem schronienia przed deszczem. [I needed shelter from the rain.]”
“Nem tudom, mit mond [I do not know what you are saying.]” The growling of Brock’s stomach interrupted them. “Éhes vagy? A méretéhez túl vékonynak látszol [Are you hungry? You look too skinny for your size.]”
“nic mi nie jest. [I am fine.]” Brock insisted, but the words were simply lost in translation. The stranger went inside, quickly coming out with a small loaf.
“Ennek elégnek kell lennie ahhoz, hogy átöleljek [This should be enough to tide you over.]” The man disappeared inside, and Brock was left with the pitter patter of rain against the sidewalk. The brown eyes, swirling with many shade, lay engrained in his head. He’d have to find them again.
And he did. But not until 1912.
Bullets rained around him. He had forgotten where he was at this point, just that he had to fight. He was stuck in this miserable trenches for months now with dwindling numbers and supplies, but he had to fight. For Germany.
“Vorstoßen! [Move Forward!]” The commander yelled. Men began climbing out of the trenches, bracing No Man’s Land like it wasn’t the suicide mission it clearly was.
“Neden geri çekiyorsun? [Why are you holding back?]” The soldier next to him asked, clearly one of the Ottomans helping them to win the war.
“Es ist Selbstmord. Ich will nicht sterben. [It’s suicide. I don’t want to die.]” Brock confessed, looking into very familiar chocolatey brown eyes. “Ich bin verängstigt. [I’m scared.]”
“Keşke ne diyorsun bilseydim. [I wish I knew what you were saying.]
“Was machst du? [What are you doing?]”
“ Dikkat et! [Look Out!]” The man pointed to the sky, spotting a mortar heading straight to the trench. Brock closed his eyes. Knowledge from previous version knew he was going to die now. But he had a mission now. Find and finally talk to the man next to him.
It took a while. Lots of lives and lots of languages. He learned Polish, German, Hungarian, Turkish, French, Russian, Italian, and Mandarin. But one time, he managed to get it right. Well, he just happened to have the right person with him at the right time.
“Perdón. [Sorry]” Brock turned around to the tap on his shoulder, seeing familiar chocolatey brown eyes. In this life, the soul was Asian. Tanned skin and smooth black hair wore a shimmery silver jacket and a plain black shirt underneath with white shoes to match. “¿Pero puedes ayudarme? [Can you help me?]” Brock didn’t have time to answer him, because his friend jumped in instead.
“Sí señor.” Arlan said, talking in nearly flawless Spanish. “¿Que Necesitas? [What Do you need?]”
“¿Dónde hay un buen lugar para comer? No he tenido la oportunidad de explorar la ciudad. [Where is there a good place to eat? I haven’t had a chance to explore the town.]”
“El restaurante a pocas cuadras tiene algunos de los mejores BLT. Eso o el lugar italiano en la próxima esquina. Su mac y queso es increíble. [The diner a few blocks down has some of the best BLTs. That or the Italian place on the next corner. Their mac and cheese is amazing.]”
“I don’t know what either of you are saying.” Brock comments, looking between the two men.
“He’s just asking for good places to eat.” Arlan explained. “Relax.”
“Tu amigo es lindo. ¿Está soltero? [Your friend is cute. Is he single?]”
“Hey, amigo means friend. Now he’s definitely talking about me.” Arlan laughed at Brock’s worry, which he found amusing. “Hey, if I actually tried I know enough to understand this conversation.”
“El es todo tuyo. [He’s all yours.]” The man then turned to Brock, holding out his hand. With hesitancy, the latter shook it.
“Mi nombre es Evan.” Evan. It was nice to finally put a name to a face for once. A name to the face stuck in his name. And he didn’t need a translator to understand that Evan was just as interested in him.
“Me llamo Brock.”
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sakuranko · 3 years
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𝕄𝕀ℕ𝕀 ℝ𝔼𝕍𝕀𝔼𝕎⁣⁣⁣ I decided that since I called myself the crazy ramen I would start uploading small reviews about these. Unfortunately, I was very hungry and I have no photos of the soups you already prepare. However, I will comment on two of these ramens that I show in the photo since two of the three that appear are Korean.⁣⁣⁣ ⁣⁣⁣ - 𝐎𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐢 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐑𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐧: It is a fairly smooth ramen, which has a delicious creamy flavor. I love it because the soup is like a delicious cream cheese. The noodles also seem to be flavored with cheese, which is great.⁣⁣⁣ ⁣⁣⁣ 🌶 3/10⁣⁣⁣ ⁣⁣⁣ - 𝐎𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐢 𝐉𝐢𝐧 𝐉𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐲 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐥𝐞: Something that is difficult to achieve is that taste of seafood, squid, crabs and clams. But this soup does it, it has a very powerful taste of marine products. The soup is not thick but it is not light either, it is like a middle ground. The noodles are very thick and I love them because they are quite delicious spicy.⁣⁣⁣ ⁣⁣⁣ 🌶 7/10⁣⁣⁣ ⁣⁣⁣ ------------------------------------------⁣ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄Ñ𝐀⁣⁣⁣ Decidí que desde que me autodenominé la loca del ramen comenzaria a subir pequeñas reseñas sobre estos. Lamentablemente tenia mucha hambre y no tengo fotos de las sopas ya preparas. No obstante les comentaré sobre dos de estos ramens que muestro en la foto ya que dos de los tres que aparecen son coreanos.⁣⁣⁣ ⁣⁣⁣ - 𝐎𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐢 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐑𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐧: Es una ramen bastante suave, que tiene un delicioso sabor cremoso. Me encanta porque la sopa es como una deliciosa crema de queso. Los fídeos tambien parece que ya vienen saborizados con queso con lo que es genial.⁣⁣⁣ ⁣⁣⁣ 🌶 3/10⁣⁣⁣ ⁣⁣⁣ - 𝐎𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐢 𝐉𝐢𝐧 𝐉𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐲 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐥𝐞:Algo que es difícil de lograr es ese sabor a mariscos, calamares, cangrejos y almejas. Pero esta sopa lo logra, tiene un sabor bastante potente a productos marinos. La sopa no es espesa pero tampoco es ligera, es como un punto medio. Los fídeos son bien gruesos y me encantan porque es picante bastante delicioso.⁣⁣⁣ ⁣⁣⁣ 🌶 7/10 ⁣⁣⁣ ⁣⁣⁣ #ottogi #ramenlove #ramenlover #koreanramen #spicyramen #ramentime https://www.instagram.com/p/CHMYWjSHak_/?igshid=z6siqbf1vuul
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dietgenics · 4 years
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As we enjoy getting  vitamin D from the sun, we also get health benefits that include supporting our immune and cardiovascular systems, improving lung function, and other health benefits.  Low levels of vitamin D are being associated with higher risk to COVID-19 infection.  Now, with the quarantine it is even more important to keep adequate vitamin D intake, either by sun exposure, supplementation,  and/or foods such fatty fish, eggs, and cheese,  So, let’s go enjoy this sunny Saturday, going outside for a walk! #VitaminD #Sun #health #nutritionfacts #bodywellness  #quarantine  #covid-19
Al mismo tiempo que disfrutamos del sol, también obtenemos beneficios para la salud.  El sol es una fuente natural de vitamina D.   Esta nos ayuda a fortalecer los sistemas inmunológico y cardiovascular, así como a mejorar el funcionamiento de los pulmones, y otros beneficios más a nuestra salud.  Niveles  bajos de vitamina D se están asociando con un mayor riesgo de infección por COVID-19.  Ahora con la cuarentena es muy importante mantener una ingesta adecuada de vitamina D, con alimentos como pescados grasos, huevos y queso; con suplementos, o disfrutando de los rayos del sol.  ¡Entonces, salgamos a caminar durante este Sábado soleado! #VitaminaD #Sol #nutritionfacts #saludybienestar #huevos #cuarentena  #covid19
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quepasacafe · 4 years
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Have a quality lunch for a quality day! ☀️ Try our Grilled Kabob Salad! 🍢 Tossed fresh greens in cilantro-serrano honey vinaigrette, topped with roasted corn, fresh avocado, tomatoes, pickled onions, and queso fresco. Order with your choice of Shrimp, Angus Steak or Chicken 🥙. #QuePasaCafe
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lglakgae · 7 years
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wanna one as ur latino boyfriend
this is highkey long so its under the cut guhguh
JESÚS : jisung
calls u nena more than he calls u by ur own name
holds & kisses ur hands in public
eats seconds at ur abuelas ALWAYS even if hes not hungry
ur abuela loves him btw
she likes him more than she likes u tbh nd it shows
always playing romeo santos en su carro
practically a 3rd parent
SANTINO "santi" : sungwoon
short as hell but swears hes the shit
a sweetheart but fights anyone who calls him chiquito (except ur family)
tu familia begged u to marry him once he showed up to ur casa con flores para ti
"vamos bebé, te quiero cantar algo"
tu eres su inspiración
MARTÍN : minhyun
respectful around family & elders
calls all of his compas pendejos y burros in a joking way
loves u more than he loves pupusas
gives u his mamas recipe & u give him urs
tries his very best to cook for u
his family planned out ur wedding the day they heard u were talking they love u SO much
hates pet names but . might call u his angelita here nd there
SALVADOR : seongwoo
"mi reina" "mi alma" "mi hermosa" and 373737 more que tonto
takes u out for long drives playing enrique iglesias when ur sad
knows bailando by heart
giggles if u call him salvi
cant cook but gets his mom to make u tamales
calls his mami to remind her that he loves her every hour
"y que quieres hacer hoy, mi vida?"
JUAN PABLO : jaehwan
he probably snorts salsa
"oye, traiga me mas takis porfa mi corazón"
either calls u mi corazón or mi fea theres no inbetween
makes shitty jokes just to hear ur laugh
hasnt had a novia since the third grade because no one likes him
gives th best & most comforting hugs
also his house is so cozy......
pero el huele a queso
tu payasito
"EL" DIEGO : daniel
EL HOMBRE MÁS SEXY DEL MUNDO todas las chicas te ODIAN!!!!
LIVES and BREATHES despacito
"mami, te ves sexy hoy " this kinda shit but giggles nd loses his mind if u call him papi
inhales elotes y coronas
sits u on his lap and gives u his chaqueta + back hugs
has u saved in his phone as th heart eyes + fire emoji
JAVIER : jihoon
the son ur mama always wanted
calls ur abuela hermosa and kisses her cheek whenever he sees her
SO respectful
sends u soft memes & makes u organic juice
blushes when u call him javi or when he calls u his amor
plays hand clapping games with u when ur bored
ARTURO RAFAEL : woojin
ur hermanito/primitos look up to him so much they think hes so cool
ur mejor amigo tbh
too young to go clubbing so invites u over to bailar en su cuarto even if its just to shakira
plays lotería like his religion nd suggests it ESP if hes around ur fam
flips the tortillas/helps ur mama con la carne asada
calls everyone mija/mijo out of habit
JOAQUÍN "jacob" : baejin
"don't call me joaquín, it's jacob"
embarrassed of his spanish so he speaks english all th time
eats pan dulce for breakfast & brings u some con café si quieres
hums carlos vives songs when hes not doing anything
lets u ride on the basket/the back of his bike
JOSÉ DAVÍD : daehwi
ur primitos LOVE HIM
"¿y josé davíd? ¡quiero jugar con josé davíd!"
genuinely laughs at all ur tíos jokes to the point where he starts repeating them to u
buys u tacos y churros with his lunch money
"uno de estos días te voy a comprar las estrellas"
GABRÍEL : guanlin
from spain ooo fancy boi but moved when he was little
shows up to school with his uniform ironed and his hair gelled everyday
"y mi querida? como estas hoy, mi chiquita?"
LOVES reggaeton & swears hes the next pitbull
mejor amigos con tus tías & talks about u to them .........
sends u selfies of himself with his hair not gelled
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themostrandomfandom · 7 years
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Hey, you probably already addressed it but i have no idea where to find it so I'll ask again. How come Santana's grandma doesn't recognize Brittany in season 6? They spent so much time together and maybe even in Alma's house.. Santana's mentions Brittany when she comes out so even if Alma has never seen Brittany which is so unlikely she knows her
Hey!
So the real answer here is “Because Glee wouldn’t know continuity if it bit them in the ass.” 
It’s just straight up a mistake on their parts—and one that highlights some of the biggest flaws in the Glee writing process overall.
More jabbering after the cut.
WARNING: Here be criticism and saltiness about Glee’s writing. And lots of it.
_____
On well-written shows, they have what is called a “show bible” that helps them to keep track of past plot points and character details, including logistics like how old any given main character is, where they’re from, what their backstory is, etc.
In the rare event that a character is, like Santana, a minor character who suddenly gets elevated to main character status, then the “bible” is updated to include their information once they’re promoted. 
When considering plot points involving the character, the writers consult the “bible” so as to avoid continuity errors.
But that’s not how Glee rolled.
As far as I’m aware, Glee did not have any sort of show bible, and neither did they have anyone on staff whose job it was to keep track of continuity. They basically made up most of their characters’ backstories as they went along—and nowhere is this bad practice more apparent than when it comes to how they bungled the formation of Santana’s family (see here).
On the typical show, a character’s family would be described in the “bible” long before any actors were cast to put those family members on screen. On Glee, they hired the actors first and then tried to fill in details around them—only, in so doing, they forgot that they had already given us SOME details about Santana’s family background in prior episodes, and the fact that they forgot led to blatant contradictions, egregious complications, and just plain embarrassing plot holes in the canon.
For example, in episode 3x07, they listed Alma’s last name as Lopez, implying that she was Santana’s paternal grandmother. However, they later implied—and allowed Ivonne Coll to say in extracanonical promotional materials—that in fact Alma was Maribel’s mother, making her Santana’s maternal grandmother. 
This slip raised questions about Santana’s family history. 
Did Santana have her mother’s last name and not her father’s? Or was Lopez both her father’s name and her mother’s maiden name? 
Later dialogue from episode 6x06 seems to suggest the latter option, as Alma states that not only was her first husband’s surname Lopez, but her second husband’s surname was Lopez, as well, as was (most likely) her maiden name, showing that Glee seems to believe that all Latinx persons who aren’t played by Ricky Martin have the same surname, and that surname is Lopez.
Fuck this racist show.
Glee’s carelessness with Santana’s family canon also raised questions about whether or not the grandmother Santana refers to in episode 3x06, who was apparently verbally and emotionally abusive to her when she was a child, is the same grandmother—Alma—whom we meet in episode 3x07. 
If so, then how do we account for the fact that in episode 6x06, Santana tells us that Alma doted on her when she was a kid? While Alma seems strict and no-nonsense, it nevertheless wouldn’t have been in her character to call her beloved six year-old granddaughter “garbage face” (at least in a serioulsy mean-spirited way). 
Glee’s slapdash approach to fleshing out Santana’s character also made it hard to tell how Brittany figured into Santana’s family life. Did Alma know Brittany or not? How much time had Brittany spent with the Lopezes over the years?  
Whether one is in the “Brittana became friends as children” or “Brittana became friends as teens” camp, the fact is that Alma not knowing who Brittany is in S6 makes no damn sense either way.
Do the Glee writers honestly want us to believe that Brittany was never over at Santana’s house at a time when Alma was visiting, even though we know that both Brittany and Alma are frequent visitors to the Lopez home? Do they seriously think that Alma never attended any of Santana’s cheerleading competitions, where she almost certainly would have met Brittany? 
Even if they do want us to believe that, for whatever reason, Alma has never physically been in Brittany’s presence prior to the events of episode 6x06, it still strains credulity to suppose that Alma has never seen photos with Brittany in them. By Santana’s report, the lady has a Facebook, and, before she disowned Santana, they were undoubtedly Facebook friends. She had to have seen pictures of Santana and Brittany together—as part of Cheerios and glee club and just hanging out as “best friends.”  
I mean, there’s no way that Brittany Pierce’s likeness hasn’t been all over Santana’s walls, both in real life and on the internet, since at least Santana’s freshman year of high school, if not longer, if indeed Brittana have been friends since childhood, fuck you very much, RIB.
Plus, like you say, Santana name-drops Brittany when she comes out to Alma in episode 3x07, so even if Alma doesn’t recognize Brittany by looks in episode 6x06, the name should still be setting off little alarm bells in her head. Brittany is the girl who “took her little nieta away from her.” That name should be branded into her mind. 
Even if she simply plays off the “coincidence”—because, after all, a lot of girls are named Brittany—you would think that she’d still react to the name at least on some level. I mean, unless she has completely psychologically blocked everything having to do with Santana’s lesbianism, you might expect her to maybe wince when Brittany introduces herself or to look away or something.  
So.
All of this rambling is to say that, yes, it is a mistake for Alma not to know Brittany when Brittany shows up on her doorstep in episode 6x06. In all likelihood, she should have met Brittany at some point before or at least seen her in pictures or recognized her name. The Glee writers either just plain didn’t think these issues through, or they did think them through but decided to move forward with the plot they wanted to use anyway.
I mean, the idea of Brittany showing up to Alma’s house dressed as a candy striper and trolling the fuck out of her all for the purpose of perhaps reconciling her and Santana in time for the wedding is pure comedy gold, and I’m sure that once it entered the writers’ collective hive mind, they really wanted to use it, and they weren’t going to allow silly little things like canonicity and common sense to stop them from doing so.
—and because they weren’t, that leaves us, as fans who do care about continuity, to try to make sense of their mistake.
To that end, here are some possible scenarios that could maybe—possibly—account for why Alma fails to recognize Brittany:
Maybe we could believe that Alma did not move to Ohio until just prior to the events of episode 3x07. Maybe it was only once she started having health problems that Santana’s parents wanted her closer to them. Santana talks about spending time with Alma when she was little, yes, but that could have been on occasional visits as opposed to on a more regular basis. It also could imply that maybe Santana didn’t always live in Ohio, either. She may have moved at some point during childhood or adolescence, perhaps once her doctor father finished his residency. In any case, if Alma didn’t move to Ohio until Santana was a teenager, then maybe Alma has only seen Brittany in photos prior to the events of episode 6x06—and maybe whatever photos she has seen Brittany in have also included Quinn and a handful of other blonde cheerleaders, who all bleed together in her mind. After all, it would be Santana’s face she was searching out in those photos anyway, and even in pictures from, say, the ninth grade Sadie Hawkins dance, where Santana and Puck double-dated with Brittany and Mike, Alma, with all her heteronormative biases, would pay attention to Santana’s male date, with his arm around her shoulder, not her female best friend, hanging at her side. In a scenario like this one, we could perhaps imagine that Alma feels a flicker of recognition when home health aid Brittany shows up on her doorstep, but she doesn’t put two and two together enough to say, “¡Claro que sí! This is the same Brittany who is Santana’s best friend (and now girlfriend). I’ve seen her before.”
Since I’m clinging to my “Brittana were childhood best friends, and the Glee writers can step to me if they want to make something of it” headcanon, I can also imagine a scenario where Alma lived in Lima (and perhaps even in Lima Heights Adjacent) when Santana was little and knew Brittany as a child, but then she moved elsewhere, meaning that she hasn’t seen Brittany in several years by the time episode 6x06 takes place. (Remember: In episode 6x06, Brittany and Alma take three bus rides to get from Alma’s house to Brittany’s to film Queso por Dos, suggesting that Alma may live very far away from Lima and perhaps even across state lines.) In this scenario, we can imagine that the all-grown-up Brittany Alma opens the door to no longer resembles the freckle-faced little girl Brittany Alma knew back in the day, so, again, Alma doesn’t really put things together. Of course, Brittany does have very distinctive speech patterns, so even if Alma doesn’t recognize her face, one might still expect her to recognize her voice and way of speaking, even after many years. That being the case, in order to make this scenario work, we also have to imagine some willful ignorance on Alma’s part—as in Brittany shows up, and alarm bells start ringing in her head, and she reacts by going, “No, no, no! It’s not. It couldn’t be. This isn’t the girl who stole my granddaughter away from me and is dragging her down to hell. I have never seen her before in my life. I cannot accept that this is the same person,” and her subconscious basically blocks out the possibility that she has ever met Brittany before.
Of course, if we really want to give our imaginations a work out, we could perhaps imagine that even if Alma has always lived in Lima and that she played a regular role in Santana’s life from birth to age sixteen, she somehow, through a series of complete coincidences, has missed out on ever seeing Brittany either in person or in photographs. I guess we could believe that every time Alma attends one of Santana’s cheerleading competitions, Brittany just happens to be out with a sprained ankle. Maybe all of the photos Maribel has ever posted on Facebook with Brittany in them have for some reason been blurry. Perhaps the week that Alma stays with Santana while her parents take that cruise to Jamaica is also by some turn of fate the week that Brittany’s family drives to Arizona to visit her aunts and uncles. Theoretically, it is possible that Brittany always completely coincidentally manages to leave the Lopez residence about ten minutes before Alma shows up there for family dinners. It is likewise possible that Alma has never been able to make it to any of Santana’s birthday parties or glee club performances, or that, even when she does attend them, Brittany is always somehow detained—off talking to another party guest or her own parents or Mr. Schue. We can, I suppose, imagine a Gleeverse full of near misses and missed connections, wherein Alma hears about her granddaughter’s best friend but never lays eyes on the girl. In that case, it would be understandable for her not to recognize Brittany in episode 6x06. As stated above, Brittany is a common enough name. It would be conceivable that Alma might not leap to the conclusion that her new home health aid is also her granddaughter’s fiancée, same name notwithstanding.
As a twist on the idea above, if we want to go for angst, we could perhaps imagine that, prior to episode 3x07, Santana works hard to keep Alma and Brittany from ever coming into contact with each other. I mean, we know that prior to her outing, one of Santana’s biggest fears is that if her family learns she is gay, they will reject her. Perhaps subconsciously, she dreads the possibility of her grandmother meeting the girl she loves, because, even if she introduces Brittany to Alma as “just” her best friend, Alma could still somehow discern the truth and know what is going on between them. Santana has so many tells around Brittany, and Alma knows Santana so well. It would be hard not to accidentally slip and do or say something which revealed the true nature of her feelings. The risk factor would be too great, so maybe Santana would choose to play things safe and just keep Alma and Brittany apart—and especially considering that even if Alma didn’t figure out Santana’s secret, there would still be the possibility that she might not even like Brittany. For as socially savvy as Santana is, she knows: Alma is no nonsense, and Brittany is whimsical, and that could mean that they’ll clash.While she would like to believe that they’d get along, she worries about what will happen if they don’t, because they’re the two people she loves most in the world, and if she has to choose between them, she doesn’t know what she’ll do. Maybe for that reason, Santana always steers Alma clear from Brittany at Cheerios and glee club events and makes sure that they are never at her house at the same time. Maybe she doesn’t even mention Brittany by name to Alma prior to episode 3x07 because she doesn’t want to jinx things. Again, this scenario would require some mental gymnastics on our part, but we could maybe make it work.
In any case, the bottom line is this:
Glee screwed up when it comes to Alma and Brittany. There’s really no 100% solid explanation for why they don’t know each other prior to episode 6x06. No matter how you slice things—whether you think Brittana have been friends with each other forever or for just six or seven years by the time S6 takes place—it strains credulity to think that Santana’s beloved grandmother and Santana’s beloved soulmate never encounter each other either in person or in likeness during all that time. 
That being the case, the “Brittany shows up at Santana’s abuela’s house and tricks her into coming to WMHS to listen to Santana sing” storyline is one for which you have to suspend your disbelief in a big way if you want to follow along with it.
As always, this show is full of plot holes, and the only way to fix them is with fanfiction, where the writers are much better at keeping track of continuity than RIB and Co. ever were.
Thanks for the question!
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nibaldop · 5 years
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Seguimos aprendiendo. Cada día es una receta, una lección, un bocadillo o un postre, incluso pan. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Hicimos un delicioso y nutritivo pan de zanahoria, que ya sea como bollo o rebanado para sándwiches, sabe exquisito. Lo podemos disfrutar salado, con jamón, quesos, cremas; o dulce, con mermeladas, cremas de chocolate, dulces. En fin, sabe delicioso con  así todo lo que se nos ocurra. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ... ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ We keep learning.  Every day is a recipe, a lesson, a snack or a dessert, even bread. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ We made a delicious and nutritious carrot bread, which either as a bun or sliced ​​for sandwiches, tastes exquisite.  We can enjoy it salty, with ham, cheeses, creams;  or sweet, with jams, chocolate creams, sweets.  Anyway, it tastes delicious with everything that comes to mind. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ... ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ #curso #course #cursodepasteleria #pastrycourse #pastelería #bakery #pastry #reposteria #pastisseria #pan #bread #pandezanahoria #carrotbread #panaderia #fundacionared #fundacioared #ared25 #barcelona #catalunya #cataluña #españa #spain (en Fundació Ared) https://www.instagram.com/p/B060MC-lcGp/?igshid=72113wwnf1qu
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